A HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH A HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH BY WILLISTON WALKER TITTTB 8TREBT PROFESSOR OK ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IN TALK UNIVER8ITT 28361 NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1921 Copyright, 1918, bt CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Published March, 1918 Reprinted May. 1919 A. R To My Wife PREFATORY NOTE In this history the writer has endeavored to treat the vast field of the story of the church so as to make evident, as far as he is able, the circumstances of its origin, its early develop- ment, the changes which led to the Reformation, as well as the course of that tremendous upheaval, and those influences J^ which have resulted in the present situation and tendencies of ^ the life of the church. As far as space would permit he has (f directed attention to the growth of doctrine and the modifica- tion of Christian thought. A He is under obligation to many who have labored in this i^ field before him, but he would express special indebtedness to (jfl Professor Friedrich Loofs, of Halle, whose Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte has been specially helpful in J the treatment of Christian thought ; and to Professor Gustav J Kriiger, of Giessen, and his associates, whose Handbuch der ^ Kirchengeschichte is a mine of recent bibliographical informa- C/l tion. .WiLLiSTON Walker. New Haven, March, 1918. CONTENTS PERIOD I. FROM THE BEGINNINGS TO THE GNOSTIC CRISIS PAGE I. The General Situation 1 11. The Jewish Background 11 III. Jesus anb the Disciples 18 IV. The Palestinian Christian Communities 22 V. Paul and Gentile Christianity 25 VI. The Close of the Apostolic Age 33 VII. The Interpretation of Jesus 35 VIII. Gentile Christianity of the Second Century ... 41 IX. Christl\n Organization 44 X. Relations of Christianity to the Roman Government 48 XI. The Apologists 50 PERIOD 11. FROM THE GNOSTIC CRISIS TO CONSTANTINE I. Gnosticism 53 II. Marcion 56 III. Montanism 57 IV. The Catholic Church 59 V. The Growing Importance of Rome 63 VI. Iren^us 65 VII. Tertullian and Cyprian 67 VIII. The Triumph of the Logos Christology in the West 71 IX. The Alexandrian School 76 X. Church and State from 180 to 260 83 ix X CONTENTS fxax XI. The Constitutional Development of the Church 87 XII. PuBUC Worship and Sacred Seasons 92 XIII. Baptism 93 XIV. The Lord's Supper 97 XV. FORGH'ENESS OF SiNS 100 X\"I. The C0.MPOSIT10N OF the Church and the Higher and Lower Morality 102 X\n. Rest and Growth, 260-303 104 XVIII. Rival Religious Forces 106 XIX. The Final Struggle 108 PERIOD III. THE IMPERIAL STATE CHURCH I. The Changed Situation 112 II. The Arlan Controversy TO the Death OF Const antine 114 III. Controversy under Constantine's Sons . . . . 119 IV. The Later Nicene Struggle 123 V. Arian Missions and the Germanic Invasions . . . 129 VI. The Growth of the Papacy 134 VII. M0NASTICIS.M 136 VIII. Ambrose and Chrysostom 140 IX. The Christological Controversies 143 X. The East Divided 153 XI. Catastrophes and Further Controversies in the East 159 XII. The Constitutional Development of the Church 164 XIII. Public Worship and Sacred Seasons 167 XIV. Lower Christianity 170 XV. Some Western Characteristics 172 XVI. .Ikrome 173 X\'II. Augustine 175 CONTENTS xi PAQE XVIII. The Pelagian Controversy 185 XIX. Semi-Pelagianism 188 XX. Gregory the Great 190 PERIOD IV. THE MIDDLE AGES TO THE CLOSE OF THE INVESTITURE CONTROVERSY I. Missions in the British Islands 195 II. Continental Missions and Papal Growth .... 200 III. The Franks and the Papacy 202 IV. Charlemagne 205 V. Ecclesiastical Institutions 208 VI. Collapsing Empire and Rising Papacy 209 VII. Papal Decline and Renewal by the Revived Empire . 214 VIII. Reform Movements 218 IX. The Reform Party Secures the Papacy 222 X. The Papacy Breaks with the Empire 225 XI. HiLDEBRAND AND HeNRY IV 228 XII. The Struggle Ends in Compromise 232 XIII. The Greek Church after the Picture Controversy . 234 XIV. The Spread of the Church •. . . . 236 PERIOD V. THE LATER MIDDLE AGES I. The Crusades 238 II. New Reugious Movements 245 III. Antichurchly Sects. Cathari and Waldenses. The Inquisition 249 IV. The Dominicans and Franciscans 254 V. Early Scholasticism 261 VI. The Universities 267 VII. High Scholasticism and Its Theology 269 xu CONTEXTS PAOE \III. The Mystics 279 IX. Missions and Defeats 283 X. The Papacy at Its Height and Its Decline . . . 285 XI. Ihe Papacy in Avignon, Criticism. The Schism . . 292 XII. Wycuf and Huss 298 XIII. The Reforming Councils 306 XIV. The Italian Renaissance and Its Popes 313 XV. The New National Powers 320 X\'I. Renaissance and Other Influences North of the Alps 326 PERIOD VL THE REFORMATION I. The LuTHEiiAN Revolution 3-35 II. Separations and Divisions 349 III. The Swiss Revolt 359 IV. The Anabaptists 366 V. German Protestantism Established . ' 370 VI. The Scandinavian Lands 382 \TI. Revolt in French Switzerland and Geneva before Calvin 386 VIII. John Calvin 389 IX. The English Revolt 401 X. The Scottish Revolt 415 XI. The Roman Revival 422 XII. The Struggle in France, the Netherlands, and England 430 XIII. German Controversies and the Thirty Years' War . 441 XIV. SoClNIANISM 451 XV. Arminianism 453 X\I. .\nglicanisu, Puritanism, and Congregationalism in England. Episcopacy and Presbyterianism in Scot- land 457 X\'II. The Quakers 47S CONTENTS xiii PERIOD VII. THE TRANSITION TO THE MODERN RELIGIOUS SITUATION PAGE I. The Turning Point 481 II. The Beginnings of Modern Science and Philosophy 483 III. Deism and Its Opponents. Scepticism 487 IV. Engush Unitarianism 494 V. Pietism in Germany 495 VI. Zinzendorf and Moravianism 501 VII. Wesley and Methodism 507 VIII. Some Effects of Methodism 518 IX. The Missionary Awakening 522 X. The German Enlightenment (Aufklarung) .... 524 XI. Romanticism 529 XII. Further German Developments . 536 XIII. England in the Nineteenth Century 544 XIV. Scottish Divisions and Reunions 552 XV. Roman Catholicism 555 XVI. American Christianity 564 Bibliographical Suggestions 591 Index 605 MAPS Lands about the Eastern Mediterranean in the First Century 28 Europe in the Time of Charlemagne 206 The Crusades 240 Europe during the Reformation 350 PERIOD I. FROM THE BEGINNINGS TO THE GNOSTIC CRISIS SECTION I. THE GENERAL SITUATION The birth of Christ saw the lands which surrounded the Mediterranean in the possession of Rome. To a degree never before equalled, and unapproached in modern times, these vast territories, which embraced all that common men knew of civilized life, were under the sway of a single type of culture. The civilizations of India or of China did not come within the vision of the ordinary inhabitant of the Roman Empire. Out- side its borders he knew only savage or semicivilized tribes. The Roman Empire and the world of civilized men were co- extensive. All was held together by allegiance to a single Em- peror, and by a common military system subject to him. The Roman army, small in comparison with that of a modern mili- tary state, was adequate to preserve the Roman peace. Under that peace commerce flourished, communication was made easy by excellent roads and by sea, and among educated men, at least in the larger towns, a common language, that of Greece, facilitated the interchange of thought. It was an empire that, in spite of many evil rulers and corrupt lower officials, secured a rough justice such as the world had never before seen; and its citizens were proud of it and of its achievements. Yet with all its unity of imperial authority and military control, Rome was far from crushing local institutions. In domestic matters the inhabitants of the provinces were largely self-governing. Their local religious observances were generally respected. Among the masses the ancient languages and customs persisted. Even native rulers were allowed a limited sway in portions of the empire, as native states still persist under British rule in India. Such a land was Palestine at the time of Christ's birth. Not a little of the success of Rome as mistress of its diverse subject population was due to this con- siderate treatment of local rights and prejudices. The diver- 1 2 THE GENERAL RELIGIOUS BACKGROUND sity In the empire was scarcely less remarkable than its unity. This variety was nowhere more apparent than in the realm of religious thought. Christianity entered no empty world. Its advent found men's minds filled with conceptions of the universe, of religion, of sin, and of rewards and punishments, with which it had to reckon and to which it had to adjust itself. Christianity could not build on virgin soil. The conceptions which it found already existing formed much of tlie material with which it must erect its structure. IMany of these ideas are no longer those of the modern world. The fact of this inevitable inter- mixture compels the student to distinguish the permanent from the transitory in Christian thought, though the process is one of exceeding difficulty, and the solutions given by various scholars are diverse. Certain factors in the world of thought into which Chris- tianity came belong to universal ancient religion and are of hoary antiquity. All men, except a few representatives of J philosophical sophistication, believed in the existence of a power, or of powers, invisible, superhuman, and eternal, con- trolling human destiny, and to be worshipped or placated by prayer, ritual, or sacrifice. The earth was viewed as the cen- tre of the universe. Around it the sun, planets, and stars ran their courses. Above it was the heaven; below the abode of departed spirits or of the wicked. No conception of what is now called natural law had penetrated the popular mind. All the ongoings of nature were the work of invisible powers of good and evil, who ruled arbitrarily. IVIiracles were, therefore, to be regarded not merely as possible; they were to be expected whenever the higher forces would impress men with the im- portant or the unusual. The world was the abode of innu- merable spirits, righteous or malevolent, who touched human life in all its phases, and who even entered into such possession of men as to control their actions for good or ill. A profound sense of unworthiness, of ill desert, and of dissatisfaction with the 'existing conditions of life cliaracterized the mass of man- kind. The varied forms of religious manifestation were evi- dences of the universal need of better relations with the spiritual and unseen, and of men's longing for help greater than any they could give one another. Besides these general conceptions common to popular re- GREEK PHILOSOPHY, SOCRATES 3 ligion, the world into which Christianity came owed much to the specific influence of Greek thought. Hellenistic ideas dominated the intelligence of the Roman Empire, but their sway was extensive only among the more cultivated portion of the population. Greek philosophic speculation at first con- cerned itself with the explanation of the physical universe. Yet with Heraclitus of Ephesus (about B. C. 490), though all was viewed as in a sense physical, the universe, which is in constant flow, is regarded as fashioned by a fiery element, the all-penetrating reason, of which men's souls are a part. Here "was probably the germ of the Logos (X0709) conception which was to play such a role in later Greek speculation and Chris- tian theology. As yet this shaping element was undistinguished from material warmth or fire. Anaxagoras of Athens (about B. C. 500-428) taught that a shaping mind (vork) acted in the ordering of matter and is independent of it. The Pythag- oreans, of southern Italy, held that spirit is immaterial, and that souls are fallen spirits imprisoned in material bodies. To this belief in immaterial existence they seem to have been led by a consideration of the properties of numbers — permanent truths beyond the realm of matter and not materially dis- cerned, i To Socrates (B. C. 470?-399) the explanation of man him- self, not of the universe, was the prime object of thought. Man's conduct, that is morals, was the most important theme of investigation. Right action is based on knowledge, and_ will result in the four virtues — prudence, courage, self-control, and justice — which, as the " natural virtues," were to have their eminent place in mediaeval Christian theology. This identi- fication of virtue with knowledge, the doctrine that to know will involve doing, was indeed a disastrous legacy to all Greek thinking, and influential in much Christian speculation, nota- bly in the Gnosticism of the second century. In Socrates's disciple, Plato (B. C. 427-347), the early Greek mind reached its highest spiritual attainment. He is properly describable as a man of mystical piety, as well as of the pro- foundest spiritual insight. To Plato the passing forms of this visible world give no real knowledge. That knowledge of the truly permanent and real comes from our acquaintance with the "ideas," those changeless archetypal, universal patterns which exist in the invisible spiritual world — the "intelligible" 4 PLATO AXD ARISTOTLE world, since known by reason rather than by the senses — and give whatever of reahty is sliared by the passing phenomena present to our senses. The soul knew these "ideas" in pre- vious existence. The phenomena of the visible world call to remembrance these once known "ideas." The soul, existing before the body, must be independent of it, and not affected by its decay. This conception of immortality as an attribute of the soul, not shared by the body, was always influential in Greek thought and stood in sharp contrast to the Hebrew doctrine of resurrection. All "ideas" are not of equal worth. The highest are those of the true, the beautiful, and especially of the good. A clear perception of a personal God, as embodied in the "idea" of the good, was perhaps not attained by Plato; but he certainly approached closely to it. The good rules the world, not chance. It is the source of all lesser goods, and de- sires to be imitated in the actions of men. The realm of "ideas" is the true home of the soul, which finds its highest satisfaction in communion with them. Salvation is the recov- ery of the vision of the eternal goodness and beauty. Aristotle (B. C. 384-322) was of a far less mystical spirit than Plato. To him the visible world was an unquestioned reality. He discarded Plato's sharp discrimination between "ideas" and phenomena. Neither exist without the other. Each existence is a substance, the result, save in the case of God, who is purely immaterial, of the impress of "idea," as the formative force, on matter which is the content. Matter in itself is only potential substance. It has always existed, yet never without form. Hence the world is eternal, for a realm of "ideas" antecedent to their manifestation in phenomena does not exist. The world is the prime object of knowledge, and Arisiotle is therefore in a true sense a scientist. Its changes demand tlie initiation of a "prime mover," who is Himself unmoved. Hence Aristotle presents this celebrated argument for the existence of God. But the "prime mover" iworks with intelligent purpose, and God is, therefore, not only the beginning l)ut the end of the process of the world's develoijment. Man belongs to the world of substances, but in him there is not merely the body and sensitive "soul" of the animal; there is also a divine spark, a Logos (X0709), which he shares with God, and which is eternal, though, unlike Plato's conception of spirit, essentially impersonal. In morals Aris- EPICUREANISM 5 totle held that happiness, or well-being, is the aim, and is at- tained by a careful maintenance of the golden mean. Greek philosophy did not advance much scientifically be- yond Plato and Aristotle, but they had little direct influence at the time of Christ. Two centuries and a half after His birth, a modified Platonism, Neo-Platonism, was to arise, of great importance, which profoundly affected Christian the- ology, notably that of Augustine. Aristotle was powerfully"^ to influence the scholastic theology of the later Middle Ages. Those older Greek philosophers had viewed man chiefly in the light of his value to the state. The conquests of Alexander, who died B. C. 323, wrought a great change in men's outlook. Hellenic culture was planted widely over the Eastern world, but the small Greek states collapsed as independent political entities. It was difficult longer to feel that devotion to the new and vast political units that a little, independent Athens had, for instance, won from its citizens. The individual as an inde- pendent entity was emphasized. Philosophy had to be inter- preted in terms of individual life. How could the individual make the most of himself? Two great answers were given, one of which was wholly foreign to the genius of Christianity, and could not be used by it; the other only partially foreign, and therefore destined profoundly to influence Christian the- ology. These were Epicureanism and Stoicism. -^ . Epicurus (B. C. 342-270), most of whose life was spent in Athens, taught that mental bliss is the highest aim of man. This state is most perfect when passive. It is the absence of all that disturbs and annoys. Hence Epicurus himself does not deserve the reproaches often cast upon his system. In- deed, in his own life, he was an ascetic. The worst foes of mental happiness he taught are groundless fears. Of these the chief are dread of the anger of the gods and of death. Both / are baseless. The gods exist, but they did not create nor do / they govern the world, which Epicurus holds, with Democritus (B. C. 470?-380?), was formed by the chance and ever-changing combinations of eternally existing atoms. All is material, even- "^ the soul of man and the gods themselves. Death ends all, but \ is no evil, since in it there is no consciousness remaining.'''^ Hence, as far as it was a religion, Epicureanism was one of in- difference. The school spread widely. The Roman poet Lu- cretius (B. C. 98?-55), in his brilliant De Reruvi Natura, gave 6 STOICISM expression to the worthier side of Epicureanism ; but the influ- ence of the system as a whole was destructive and toward a sensual view of happiness. Contemporarily with Epicurus, Euhemerus (about B. C. 300) taught that the gods of the old religions were simply deified men, about whom myths and tradition had cast a halo of divinity. He found a translator and advocate in the Roman poet iMinius (B.C. 239?-170?). Parallel with Epicureanism, in the teaching of Pyrrho of Elis (B. C. 360?-270?), and his followers, a wholly sceptical point of view was presented. Not merely can the real nature of things never be understood, but the best course of action is equally dubious. In practice Pyrrho found, like Epicurus, the ideal of life one of withdrawal from all that annoys or disturbs. With all these theories Christianity could have nothing in common, and they in turn did not affect it. The other great answer was that of Stoicism, the noblest type of ancient pagan ethical thought, the nearest in some re- spects to Christianity, and in others remote from it. Its lead- ers wereZeno (B. C.?-264?), Cleanthes (B. C. 301?-232?), and Chrysippus (B. C. 280?-207?). Though developed in Athens, it flourished best outside of Greece, and notably in Rome, where Seneca (B. C. 3?-A. D. 65), Epictetus (A. D. 60?-?), and the Emperor, IMarcus Aurelius (A. D. 121-180), had great influence. It was powerfully represented in Tarsus during the early life of the Apostle Paul. Stoicism was primarily a great ethical system, yet not without claims to be considered a religion. Its thought of the universe was curiously materialistic. All that is real is physical. Yet there is great difference in the fineness of bodies, and the coarser are penetrated by the finer. Hence fine and coarse correspond roughly to the common dis- tinctions between spirit and matter. Stoicism approximated, though it much modified, the view of Heraclitus. The source of all, and the shaping, harmonizing influence in the universe is tlie vital warmth, from whicJi all has developed by differing decrees of tension, which interpenetrates all things, and to which all will return. Far more than Heraclitus's fire, which it resembles, it is the intelligent, self-conscious world-soul, an all indwelling reason, Iy)gos (X0709), of which our reason is apart. It Ls God, the life and wisdom of all. It is truly within us. We can "follow the God within" ; and by reason of it one can STOICISM 7 say, as Cleanthes did of Zeus: "We too are thy offspring."-^ The popular gods are simply names for the forces that stream out from God. Since one wisdom exists in all the world, there is one natural law, one rule of conduct for all men. All are morally free. Since all are from God, all men are brothers. Differences in station in life are accidental. To follow reason in the place in which one finds oneself is the highest duty, and is equally praiseworthy whether a man is an Emperor or a slave. So to obey reason, the Logos, is the sole object of pursuit. Happiness is no just aim, though duty done brings a certain happiness purely as a by-product. The chief enemies of a perfect obedi---;) ence are passions and lusts, which pervert the judgment. S These must resolutely be put aside. God inspires all good^ acts, though the notion of God is essentially pantheistic. The strenuous ascetic attitude of Stoicism, its doctrine of the . all-pervading and all-ruling divine wisdom, Logos (\d709), its insistence that all who do well are equally deserving, whatever their station, and its assertion of the essential brotherhood of all men, were profoundly to affect Christian theology. In its highest representatives the creed and its results were noble. It was, however, too often hard, narrow, and unsympathetic. It was for the few. It recognized that the many could never reach its standards. Its spirit was too often one of pride. Tliat^of Chnstiani ty is one of humility. Still it produced re- markableeffects. Stoicism gave Rome excellent Emperors and many lesser officials. Though it never became a really popular creed, it was followed by many of high influence and position in the Roman world, and modified Roman law for the better. It introduced into jurisprudence the conception of a law of nature, expressed in reason, and above all arbitrary human statutes. By its doctrine that all men are by nature equal, the worst features of slavery were gradually ameliorated, and Roman citizenship widely extended. One may say that the best educated thought in Rome and the provinces, by the time of Christ, in spite of wide-spread Epicureanism and Scepticism, inclined to pantheistic Mono- theism, to the conception of God as good, in contrast to the non-moral character of the old Greek and Roman deities, to belief in a ruling divine providence, to the thought that true religion is not ceremonies but an imitation of the moral quali- c 8 POPULAR RELIGION ties of God, and toward a humaner attitude to men. The two elements lacking in this educated philosophy were those of certainty such as could only be given by belief in a divine revelation, and of that loyalty to a person which Christianity was to emphasize. The common people, however, shared in few of these bene- fits. They lay in gross superstition. If the grip of the old religions of Greece and Rome had largely relaxed, they never- theless believed in gods many and lords many. Every town had its patron god or goddess, every trade, the farm, the spring, the household, the chief events of life, marriage, childbirth. These views, too, were ultimately to appear in Christian his- tory transmuted into saint-worship. Soothsayers and magi- cians drove a thriving trade among the ignorant, and none were more patronized than those of Jewish race. Above all, the common people were convinced that the maintenance of the historic religious cult of the ancient gods was necessary for the safety and perpetuity of the state. If not observed, the gods wreaked vengeance in calamities — an opinion that was the source of much later persecution of Christianity. These popular ideas were not vigorously opposed by the learned, who largely held that the old religions had a police value. They regarded the state ceremonies as a necessity for the com- mon man. Seneca put the philosophical opinion bluntly when he declared that "the wise man will observe all religious usages ^s commanded by the law, not as pleasing to the gods." The - lowest point in popular religious feeling in the Roman Empire corresponds roughly to the time of the birth of Christ. The abler Emperors strove to strengthen and modify the ancient popular worships, for patriotic reasons, into worship of the state and of its head. This patriotic deification of the Roman state began, indeed, in the days of the republic. The worship of the "Dea Roma" may be found in Smyrna as early as B. C. 195. This reverence was strengthened by the popu- larity of the empire in the provinces as securing them better government than that of the republic. As early as B. C. 29, Perganmm had a temple to Rome and Augustus. This worship, directed to the ruler as the embodiment of the state, or rather to his "genius" or indwelling spirit, spread rapidly. It soon had an elaborate priesthood under state patronage, divided and organized by pro\inces, and celebrating not only worship WORSHIP OF THE STATE 9 but annual games on a large scale. It was probably the most highly developed organization of a professedly religious char- acter under the early empire, and the degree to which it ulti- mately affected Christian institutions awaits further investiga- tion. From a modern point of view there was much more of patriotism than of religion in this system. Christian mission- aries in Japan have solved a similar, though probably less diffi- cult, situation by holding reverence to the Emperor to be purely patriotic. But early Christian feeling regarded this worship of the Emperor as utterly irreconcilable with allegiance to Christ. The feeling is shown in the description of Pergamum in Revelation 2*^. Christian refusal to render the worship seemed treasonable, and was the great occasion of the martyrdoms. Men need a religion deeper than philosophy or ceremonies.-^,,^^ Philosophy satisfies only the exceptional man. Ceremonies avail for more, but not those whose thoughts are active, or whose sense of personal unworthiness is keen. Some attempt was made to revive the dying older popular paganism. The earlier Emperors were, many of them, extensive builders and patrons of temples. The most notable effort to effect a revival and purification of popular religion was that of Plutarch (A. D. 46?-120?), of Chseronea in Greece, which may serve as typical of others. He criticised the traditional mythology. All that implied cruel or morally unworthy actions on the part of the gods he rejected. There is one God. All the popular godsL are His attributes personified, or subordinate spirits. Plutarch had faith in oracles, special providences, and future retribution. He taught a strenuous morality. His attempt to wake up what was best in the dying older paganism was a hopeless task and won few followers. The great majority of those who felt religious longings simply adopted Oriental religions, especially those of a redemptive na- ture in which mysticism or sacramentalism were prominent fea- tures. Ease of communication, and especially the great influx of Oriental slaves into the western portion of the Roman world during the later republic facilitated this process. The spread of these faiths independent of, and to a certain extent as rivals of, Christianity during the first three centuries of our era made that epoch one of deepening religious feeling throughout the em- pire, and, in that sense, undoubtedly facilitated the ultimate triumph of Christianity. 10 IVn^STERY RELIGIONS One such Oriental religion, of considerably extended appeal, though with little of the element of mystery, was Judaism, of which there will be occasion to speak more fully in another connection. The popular mind turned more largely to other Oriental cults, of greater mystery, or rather of larger redemp- tive sacramental significance. Their meaning for the religious development of the Roman world has been only recently ap- preciated at anything like its true value. The most popular of these Oriental religions were those of the Great Mother (Cybele) and Attis, originating in Asia Minor ; of Isis and Serapis from Egypt ; and of Mithras from Persia. At the same time there was much syncretistic mixture of these religions, one with another, and with the older religions of the lands to which they came. That of the Great IMother, which was essentially a primitive nature worship, accompanied by licentious rites, reached Rome in B. C. 204, and was the first to gain extensive foothold in the West. That of Isis and Serapis, with its em- phasis on regeneration and a future life, was well established in Rome by B. C. 80, but had long to endure governmental oppo- sition. That of Mithras, the noblest of all, though having an extended history in the East, did not become conspicuous at Rome till toward the year A. D. 100, and its great spread was in the latter part of the second and during the third centuries. It was especially beloved of soldiers. In the later years, at least of its progress in the Roman Empire, Mithras was identi- fied with the sun — the Sol Invictus of the Emperors just before Constantine. Like other religions of Persian origin, its view of ^ the universe was dualistic. All these religions taught a redeemer-god. All held that the \ initiate shared in symbolic (sacramental) fashion the experiences of the god, died with him, rose with him, became partakers of the divine nature, usually through a meal shared symbolically with him, and participated in his immortality. All had secret rites for the initiaterl. All offered mystical (sacramental) cleansing from sin. In the religion of Isis and Serapis that cleansing was by bathing in sacred water; in those of the Great Mother and of Mithras by the blood of a bull, the tau- roboliuffi, by which, as recorded in inscriptions, the initiate was "reborn forever." All promised a happy future life for the faithful. All were more or less ascetic in their attitude toward the world. Some, like Mitiiraism, taught the brotherhood and THE SITUATION IN THE HEATHEN WORLD 11 essential equality of all disciples. There can be no doubt that the development of the early Christian doctrine of the sacra- ments was affected, if not directly by these religions, at least by the religious atmosphere which they helped to create and to which they were congenial. In summing up the situation in the heathen world at the coming of Christ, one must say that, amid great confusion, and in a multitude of forms of expression, some of them very un- worthy, certain religious demands are evident. A religion that should meet the requirements of the age must teach one right- eous God, yet find place for numerous spirits, good and bad. It must possess a definite revelation of the will of God, as in Judaism, that is an authoritative scripture. It must inculcate a world-denying virtue, based on moral actions agreeable to ~^ the will and character of God. It must hold forth a future life " — with rewards and punishments. It must have a "symbolic- — ■ — ■ initiation and promise a reaHorgiveness of sins. It must pos- sess a redeemer-god into umon with whom men could come by certain sacramental acts. It must teach the brotherhood of all men, at least of all adherents of the religion. However simple the beginnings of Christianity may have been, Chris- tianity must possess, or take on, all these traits if it was to conquer the Roman Empire or to become a world religion. It came "in the fulness of time" in a much larger sense than was formerly thought; and no one who believes in an overruling providence of God will deny the fundamental importance of this mighty preparation, even if some of the features of Chris- tianity's early development bear the stamp and limitations of the time and have to be separated from the eternal. SECTION II. THE JEWISH BACKGROUND The external course of events had largely determined the development of Judaism in the six centuries preceding the birth of Christ. Judaea had been, tuider- foreign political control since the conquest of Jerusalem by Nebuchadrezzar, B. C. 586. It had shared the fortunes of the old Assyrian Empire and of its successors, the Persian and that of Alexander. After the break-up of the latter it came under the control of the Ptole- mies of Egypt and then of the Seleucid dynasty of Antioch. While thus politically dependent, its religious institutions were 12 THE LAW AND THE SYNAGOGUE practically undisturbed after their restoration consequent upon the Persian conquest of Babylonia ; and the hereditary priestly families were the real native aristocracy of the land. In their higher ranks they came to be marked by political interest and religious indifference. The high-priesthood in particular became a coveted office by reason of its pecuniary and political influence. With it was associated, certainly from the Greek period, a body of advisers and legal interpreters, the Sanhedrim, ultimately seventy-one in number. Thus administered, the temple and its priesthood came to represent the more formal aspect of the reli- gious life of the Hebrews. On the other hand, the feeling that they were a holy people living under Yahwe's holy law, their sense of religious separatism, and the comparative cessation of prophecy, turned the nation to the study of the law, which was interpreted by an ever-increasing mass of tradition. As in Mo- hammedan lands to-day, the Jewish law was at once religious :-' precept and civil statute. Its interpreters, the scribes, became more and more the real religious leaders of the people. Juda- ism grew to be, in ever-increasing measure, the religion of a vlsacred scripture and its mass of interpretative precedent. For a fuller understanding and administration of the law, and for prayer and worship, the synagogue developed wherever Judaism was represented. Its origin is uncertain, going back probably to the Exile. In its typical form it was a local congregation in- cluding all Jews of the district presided over by a group of "elders," having often a "ruler" at its head. These were em- powered to excommunicate and punish oft'enders. The services were very simple and could be led by any Hebrew, though usu- ally under "a ruler of the synagogue." The}' included prayer, the reading of the law and the prophets, their translation and exposition (sermon), and the benediction. Because of the un- representative character of the priesthood, and the growing im- portance of the synagogues, the temple, though highly regarded, became less and less vital for the religious life of the people as the time of Christ is approached, and could be totally de- stroye Matt. 5". 8 Mark O""". » Matt. 18". 22. '" Mark !!"• ». " Matt. ?"• '*. '^ Mark A'-^^; Luke 17=". '«.\/u». 10", 19", 24"; Mark la^". '* .\I(irk 1". ^^Matt. ll'i. THE MYSTERY OF HIS PERSON 21 and earth should pass away before His words. ^ He called the heavy-laden to Him and offered them rest.^ He promised to those who confessed Him before men that He would confess them before His Father.^ He declared that none knew the Father but a Son, and he to whom the Son should reveal the Father,^ He proclaimed Himself lord of the Sabbath/ than which, in popular estimate, there was no more sacred part of the God-given Jewish law. He affirmed that He had power to pronounce forgiveness of sins.^ On the other hand, He felt His own humanity and its limitations no less clearly. He prayed, and taught His disciples to pray. He declared that He did not know the day or the hour of ending of the present world-age ; that was known to the Father alone.'' It was not His to determine who should sit on His right hand and His left in His exaltation.^ He prayed that the Father's will, not His own, be done.^ He cried in the agony of the cross: "My , God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"^** The mystery of His person is in these utterances. Its divinity is no less evident than its humanity. The how is beyond our experience, and therefore beyond our powers of comprehension ; but the church has always busied itself with the problem, and has too often practically emphasized one side to the exclusion of the other. Jesus substituted for the external, work righteous, cere- monial religion of contemporary Judaism, the thought of piety as consisting in love to God and to one's neighbor — to a God who is a Father and a neighbor who is a brother — manifested primarily in an attitude of the heart and inward life, the fruit of which is external acts. The motive power of that life is personal allegiance to Himself as the revelation of the Father, the type of redeemed humanity, the Elder Brother, and the/^ King of the kingdom of God. What Jesus taught and was gained immense significance from the conviction of His disciples that His death was not the end — from the resurrection faith. The how of this conviction is one of the most puzzling of historical problems. The fact of this conviction is unquestionable. It seems to have come first to Peter," who was in that sense at least the " rock " Apostle » Mark 13". 2 Matt. W^. » MaU. 10»». < Mait. 11" ; Luke 10". «■ Mark 2"-28. « Mark 2i-". ^ Mark IS'^. s Mark 10*«. » Mark 14". w Mark 15'^ " 1 Cor. 15». / 22 RESURRECTION AND PENTECOST on whom the church was founded. All the early disciples shared it. It was the turning-point in the conversion of Paul. It gave courage to the scattered disciples, brought them to- gether again, and made them witnesses. Henceforth they had a risen Lord, in the exaltation of glory, yet ever interested in them. The Messiah of Jewish hope, in a profounder spiritual reality than Judaism had ever imagined Him, had really lived, died, and risen again for their salvation. These convictions were deepened by the experiences of the day of Pentecost. The exact nature of the pentecostal mani- festation is, perhaps, impossible to recover. Certainly the con- ception of a proclamation of the Gospel in many foreign lan- guages is inconsistent with what we know of speaking with tongues elsewhere^ and with the criticism reported by the author of Acts that they were "full of new wine," ^ which Peter deemed worthy of a reply. But the point of significance is that these spiritual manifestations appeared the visible and audible evidence of the gift and power of Christ.^ To these first Christians it was the triumphant inauguration of a rela- tion to the living Lord, confidence in w^hich controlled much of the thinking of the Apostolic Church. If the disciple visibly acknowledged his allegiance by faith, repentance, and baptism, the exalted Christ, it was believed, in turn no less evidently acknowledged the disciple by His gift of the Spirit. Pentecost was indeed a day of the Lord ; and though hardly to be called the birthday of the church, for that had its beginnings in Jesus' association with the disciples, it marked an epoch in the proc- lamation of the Gospel, in the disciples' conviction of Christ's presence, and in the increase of adherents to the new faith. SECTION IV. THE PALESTINIAN CHRISTIAN COMMUNITIES The Christian community in Jerusalem seems to have grown rapidly. It speedily included Jews who had lived in the dis- persion as well as nati\es of Galilee and Judfiea, and even some of the Hebrew priests. By th^ Christiati body the name ^'cburdi" waa vers' early adopted. The d^ignation comes from the Septuagint translation of the Old Testament, where it had been employed to indicate the whde people of Israel as a divinely called congregation. As such it was a fitting title I Sec 1 Cor. 14'-'». i Acts 2". » Acts 2«». PRIMITIVE WORSHIP AND ORGANIZATION 23 for the true Israel, the real people of God, and such the early Christians felt themselves to be. The early Jerusalem com- pany were faithful in attendance at the temple, and in obedi- ence to the Jewish law, but, in addition, they had their own special services among themselves, with prayer, mutual ex- hortation, and "breaking of bread" daily in private houses.^ This "breaking of bread" served a twofold purpose. It was a bond of fellowship and a means of support for the needy. The expectation of the speedy coming of the Lord made the company at Jerusalem a waiting congregation, in which the support of the less well-to-do was provided by the gifts of the better able, so that they "had all things common." ^ The act was much more than that, however. It was a continuation and a reminder of the Lord's Last Supper with His disciples before His crucifixion. It had, therefore, from the first, a sacramental significance. Organization was very simple. The leadership of the Jeru- salem congregation was at first that of Peter, and in a lesser degree of John. With them the whole apostolic company was associated in prominence, though whether they constituted so fully a governing board as tradition affirmed by the time that Acts was written may be doubted. Questions arising from the distribution of aid to the needy resulted in the appointment of a committee of seven,' but whether this action was the origin of the diaconate or a temporary device to meet a particu- lar situation is uncertain. The utmost that can be said is that the duties thus intrusted resembled those later discharged by deacons in the Gentile churches. At an early though somewhat later period "elders" {trpea ^mepoi) are mentioned,^ though whether these were simply the older members of the church,^ or were oflBcers® not improbably patterned after those of the Jewish synagogue, is impossible to determine. The Jerusalem congregation was filled with the Messianic hope, it would seem at first in a cruder and less spiritual form than Jesus had taught.'' It was devoted in its loyalty to the Christ, who would soon return, but "whom the heaven must receive until the times of restoration of all things." * Salva- tion it viewed as to be obtained by repentance, which included 1 Acts 2«. 2 Acts 2". » Acts 6i-«. *Acts ipo. 5 As Acts 15** might imply. « Acts 14". ' See Acts l^. 8 Acts 3". 24 THE COXGREGATTON IN JERUSALEM sorrow for the national sin of rejecting Jesus as the jMessiah as well as for personal sins. This repentance and acknowledg- ment of loyalty was followed by baptism in the name of Christ, as a sign of cleansing and token of new relationship, and was sealed with the divine approval by the bestowment of spiritual gifts.^ This preaching of Jesus as the true Messiah, and fear of a consequent disregard of the historic ritual, led to an at- tack by Pharisaic Hellenist Jews, which resulted in the death of the first Christian martyr, Stephen, by stoning at the hands of a mob. The immediate consequence was a partial scatter- ing of the Jerusalem congregation, so that the seeds of Chris- tianity were sown throughout Judsea, in Samaria, and even in as remote regions as Caesarea, Damascus, Antioch, and the island of Cyprus. Of the original Apostles the only one who is certainly known to have exercised a considerable missionary activity was Peter, though tradition ascribes such labors to them all. John may have engaged, also, in such endeavor, though the later history of this Apostle is much in dispute. The comparative peace which followed the martyrdom of Stephen was broken for the Jerusalem church by a much more severe persecution about A. D. 44, instigated by Herod Agrippa I, who from 41 to his death in 44, was vassal-king over the former territories of Herod the Great. Peter was imprisoned, but escaped death, and the Apostle James was beheaded. In connection with the scattering consequent upon this persecu- tion is probably to be found whatever truth underlies the tradi- tion that tlie Apostles left Jerusalem twelve years after the crucifixion. At all events, Peter seems to have been only oc- casionally there henceforth; and the leadership of the Jerusalem church fell to James, "the Lord's brother," who even earlier had become promhiont in its affairs.- This position, which he held till Ills UKirtyr's death about 03, has often been called a "bishopric," and undoubtedly it corresponded in many ways to the monarchical bishopric in the Gentile churches. There is no evidence, however, of the application to James of the term "bishop" in his lifetime. When the successions of re- ligious leadership among Semitic peoples are remembered, especially the iniportance attached to relationship to the f(juiider, it seems niuch more likely that there was here a rudi- mentary caliphate. This interpretation is rendered the more ' Ada 2". ». ■' Gal. l'» 2^ ; Acts 21>«. TENDENCIES IN PALESTINIAN CHRISTIANITY 25 probable because James's successor in the leadership of the Jerusalem church, though not chosen till after the conquest of the city by Titus in 70, was Simeon, esteemed Jesus' kinsman. Under the leadership of James the church in Jerusalem em- braced two parties, both in agreement that the ancient law of Israel was binding on Christians of Jewish race, but differing as to whether it was similarly regulative for Christian converts from heathenism. One wing held it to be binding on all ; the other, of which James was a representative, was willing to allow freedom from the law to Gentile Christians, though it viewed with disfavor such a mingling of Jews and Gentiles at a common table as Peter was disposed, for a time at least, to welcome.^ The catastrophe which ended the Jewish rebellion in the year 70 was fateful, however, to all the Christian com- munities in Palestine, even though that of Jerusalem escaped the perils of the siege by flight. The yet greater overthrow of Jewish hopes under Hadrian, in the war of 132 to 135, left Palestinian Christianity a feeble remnant. Even before the first capture of the city, more influential foci of Christian in- fluence were to be found in other portions of the empire. The Jerusalem church and its associated Palestinian communities were important as the fountain from which Christianity first flowed forth, and as securing the preservation of many memorials of Jesus' life and words that would otherwise have been lost, rather than as influencing, by direct and permanent leader- ship, the development of Christianity as a whole. SECTION v. PAUL AND GENTILE CHRISTIANITY As has already been mentioned, the persecution which brought about Stephen's martyrdom resulted in the planting of Christianity beyond the borders of Palestine. Missionaries, whose names have perished, preached Christ to fellow Jews. In Antioch a further extension of this propaganda took place. Antioch, the capital of Syria, was a city of the first rank, a remarkably cosmopolitan meeting-place of Greeks, Syrians, and Jews. There the new faith was preached to Greeks. The effect of this preaching was the spread of the Gospel among those of Gentile antecedents. By the populace they were nicknamed "Christians" — a title little used by the followers 1 Gal. 2i2-i«. 26 SHOULD CHRISTIANITY BE UNIVERSAL of Jesus themselves till well into the second century, though earlier prevalent among the heathen. Nor was Antioch the farthest goal of Christian effort. By 51 or 52, under Claudius, tumults among the Jews consequent upon Christian preaching by unknown missionaries attracted governmental attention in Rome itself. At this early period, however, Antioch was the centre of development. The effect of this conversion of those whose antecedents had been heathen was inevitably to raise the question of the relation of these disciples to the Jew- ish law. Should that rule be imposed upon Gentiles, Christi- anity would be but a Jewish sect ; should Gentiles be free from it Christianity could become a universal religion, but at the cost of much Jewish sympathy. That this inevitable conflict was decided in favor of the larger doctrine was primarily the work of the Apostle Paul. Paul, whose Hebrew name, Saul, was reminiscent of the hero of the tribe of Benjamin, of which he was a member, was born in the Cilician city of Tarsus, of Pharisaic parentage, but of a father possessed of Roman citizenship. Tarsus was eminent in the educational world, and at the time of Paul's birth was a seat of Stoic teaching. Brought up in a strict Jewish home, there is no reason to believe that Paul ever received a formal Hellenic education. He was never a Hellenizer in the sense of Philo of Alexandria. A wide-awake youth in such a city could not fail, however, to receive many Hellenic ideas, and to become familiar, in a measure at least, with the political and religious atmosphere of the larger world outside his orthodox Jewish home. Still, it was in the rabbinical tradition that he grew up, and it was as a future scribe that he went, at an age now unknown, to study under the famous Gamaliel the elder, in Jerusalem. How much, if anything, he knew of the ministry of Jesus other than by common report, it is impossible to de- termine. His devotion to the Pharisaic conception of a nation made holy by careful observance of the Jewish law was extreme, and his own conduct, as tried by that standard, was "blame- less." Always a man of the keenest spiritual insight, however, he came, even while a Pharisee, to feel deep inward dissatis-, faction with his own attainments in character. The law did not give a real inward righteousness. Such was his state of mind when brought into contact with Christianity. If Jesus was no true Messiah, He had justly suffered, and His disciples PAUL'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 27 were justly objects of persecution. Could he be convinced that Jesus was the chosen of God, then He must be to him the first object of allegiance, and the law for opposition to the Phari- saic interpretation of which He died — and Paul recognized no other interpretation — must itself be abrogated by divine in- tervention. Though the dates of Paul's history are conjectural, it may have been about the year 35 that the great change came — journeying to Damascus on an errand of persecution he beheld in vision the exalted Jesus, who called him to personal service. What may have been the nature of that experience can at best be merely conjectured ; but of its reality to Paul and of its trans- forming power there can be no question. Henceforth he was convinced not only that Jesus was all that Christianity claimed Him to be, but he felt a personal devotion to his Master that involved nothing less than union of spirit. He could say : " I /' live, and yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me."^ The old"^ legalism dropped away, and with it the value of the law. To Paul henceforth the new life was one of a new friendship. Christ had become his closest friend. He now viewed man, God, sin, and the world as through his friend's eyes. To do / his friend's will was his highest desire. All that his friend had won was his. "If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: ' the old things are passed away ; behold they are become new." ^ With an ardent nature such as Paul's this transformation manifested itself at once in action. Of the story of the next few years little is known. He went at first into Arabia — a region in the designation of that age not necessarily far south of Damascus. He preached in that city. Three years after his conversion he made a flying visit to Jerusalem, where he sojourned with Peter and met James, "the Lord's brother." He worked in Syria and Cilicia for years, in danger, suffering, and bodily weakness.^ Of the circumstances of this ministry little is known. He can hardly have failed to preach to Gen- tiles ; and, with the rise to importance of a mixed congregation at Antioch, he was naturally sought by Barnabas as one of judgment in the questions involved. Barnabas, who had been sent from Jerusalem, now brought Paul from Tarsus to Antioch, probably in the year 46 or 47. Antioch had become a great 1 Gal. 220. 2 2 Cor. 5". 'Some few incidents are enumerated in 2 Cor. 11 and 12. 28 PAUL THE JNIISSIONARY focal point of Christian activity; and from it in obedience, as the Antiochian congregation believed, to divine guidance, Paul and Barnabas set forth for a missionary journey that took them to Cyprus and thence to Perga, Antioch of Pisidia, Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe — the so-called first missionary ' journey described in Acts 13 and 14. Apparently the most fruitful evangelistic endeavor thus far in the history of the church, it resulted in the establishment of a group of congre- gations in southern Asia Minor, which Paul afterward addressed as those of Galatia, though many scholars would find the Galatian churches in more northern and central regions of Asia Minor, to which no visit of Paul is recorded. The growth of the church in Antioch and the planting of mixed churches in Cyprus and Galatia now raised the question of Gentile relation to the law on a great scale. The congre- gation in Antioch was turmoiled by visitors from Jerusalem who asserted : " Except ye be circumcised after the custom of ) Moses ye cannot be saved." ^ Paul determined to make a test / case. Taking with him Titus, an uncircumcised Gentile con- vert, as a concrete example of non-legalistic Christianity, he went with Barnabas to Jerusalem and met the leaders there privately. The result reached with James, Peter, and John was a cordial recognition of the genuineness of Paul's work among the Gentiles, and an agreement that the field should be divided, the Jerusalem leaders to continue the mission to Jews, of course with maintenance of the law, while Paul and Barna- bas should go with their free message to the Gentiles.^ It was a decision honorable to both sides; but it was impossible of full execution. What were to be the relations in a mixed church ? Could law-keeping Jews and law-free Gentiles eat together? That further question was soon raised in connection with a visit of Peter to Antioch.^ It led to a public discussion in the Jerusalem congregation, probably in the year 49 — the so-called Council of Jerusalem — and the formulation of certain rules governing mixed eating.* To Paul, anything but the freest equality of Jew and Gentile seemed impossible. To Peter and Barnabas the question of terms of common eating seemed of prime iniportance. Paul withstood them both. He must fight the battle largely alone, for Antioch seems to have held with Jerusalem in this matter of intercourse at table. ' Ads 15'. ' Gal. 2'"'. ^ Gal. 2"-'«. < Acts 15'-". ^ r PAUL THE MISSIONARY 29 Then followed the brief years of Paul's greatest missionary- activity, and the period to which we owe all his epistles. Taking with him a Jerusalem Christian, of Roman citizenship, Silas by name, he separated from Barnabas by reason of dis- agreement regarding eating, and also by dissension regarding the conduct of Barnabas's cousin, Mark.* A journey through the region of Galatia brought him Timothy as an assistant. Unable to labor in western Asia Minor, Paul and his companions now entered Macedonia, founding churches in Philippi and Thessalonica, being coldly received in Athens, and spending eighteen months in successful work in Corinth (probably 51- 53). Meanwhile the Judaizers had been undermining his apostolic authority in Galatia, and from Corinth he wrote to these churches his great epistle vindicating not merely his own ministry, but the freedom of Christianity from all obliga- tion to the Jewish law. It was the charter of a universal Christianity. To the Thessalonians he also wrote, meeting their peculiar difficulties regarding persecution and the ex- pected coming of Christ. Taking Aquila and Priscilla, who had become his fellow la- borers in Corinth, with him to Ephesus, Paul left them there and made a hurried visit to Jerusalem and Antioch. On his return to Ephesus, where Christianity had already been planted, he began a ministry there of three years' duration (53?-56?). Largely successful, it was also full of opposition and of such peril that Paul "despaired even of life"^ and ultimately had to flee. The Apostles' burdens were but increased during this stay at Ephesus by moral delinquencies, party strife, and consequent rejection of his authority in Corinth. These led not merely to his significant letters to the Corinthians, but on departure from Ephesus, to a stay of three months in Corinth itself. His authority was restored. In this Corinthian sojourn he wrote the greatest of his epistles, that to the Romans. Meanwhile Paul had never ceased to hope that the breach between him and his Gentile Christians and the rank and file of the Jerusalem church could be healed. As a thank-offering for what the Gentiles owed to the parent community, he had been collecting a contribution from his Gentile converts. This, in spite of obvious peril, he determined to take to Jeru- salem. Of the reception of this gift and of the course of Paul's 1 Ads 1536-«. 2 2 Cor. V. 30 PAUL'S IMPRISONMENT AND DEATH negotiations nothing is known ; but the Apostle himself was speedily arrested in Jerusalem and sent a prisoner of the Roman Government to'Caesarea, doubtless as an inciter of riot- ing. Two years' imprisonment (57?-59?) led to no decisive result, since Paul exercised his right of appeal to the imperial tribunal at Rome, and were followed by his adventurous jour- ney to the capital as a prisoner. At Rome he lived in custody, part of the time at least in his own hired lodging, for two years (60?-62?). Here he wrote to his beloved churches our Ephesians, Colossians, Philippians, and briefer letters to Philemon and to Timothy (the second epistle). Whether he was released from imprisonment and made further journeys is a problem which still divides the opinion of scholars, but the weight of such slight evidence as there is appears to be against it. There is no reason to doubt the tradition that he was beheaded on the Ostian way outside of Rome ; but the year is uncertain. Tradition places his martyrdom in connection with the great Neronian persecution of 64. It was not con- joined in place with that savage attack, and may well have occurred a little earlier without being dissociated in later view from that event. Paul's heroic battle for a universal, non-legalistic Christi- anity has been sufficiently indicated. His Christology will be considered in another connection.^ Was he the founder or the remaker of Christian theology? He would himself ear- nestly have repudiated these imputations. Yet an interpreta- tion by a trained mind was sure to present the simple faith of primitive Christianity in somewhat altered form. Though Paul wrought into Christian theology much that came from his own rabbinic learning and Hellenic experience, his profound Christian feeling led him into a deeper insight into the mind of Christ than was possessed by any other of the early disciples. Paul the theologian is often at variance with the picture of Christ presented by the Gospels. Paul the Christian is pro- foundly at one. Paul's conception of freedom from the Jewish law was as far as possible from any antinomian undervaluation of morality. If the old law had passed away, the Christian is under "the law of the Spirit of life." He who has the Spirit dwelling in him, will mind "the things of the Spirit," and will "mortify 1 Section VII. PAUL'S TEACHING 31 the deeds of the body." ^ Paul evidently devoted much of ^ his training of converts to moral instruction. He has a dis- tinct theory of the process of salvation. By nature men are children of the first Adam, and share his inheritance of sin ;^ by adoption (a Roman idea) we are children of God and par- takers of the blessings of the second Adam, Christ.^ These blessings have special connection with Christ's death and resurrection. To Paul, these two events stand forth as trans- actions of transcendent significance. His attitude is well ex- pressed in Gal. 6^^ : " Far be it from me to glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ''; and the reason for this glo- rying is twofold, that sin is thereby forgiven and redemption wrought,* and that it is the source and motive of the new life of faith and love.^ This degree of emphasis on Christ's death was certainly new. To Paul the resurrection was no less important. It was the evidence that Jesus is the Son of God,^ the promise of our own resurrection/ and the guar- antee of men's renewed spiritual life.^ Hence Paul preached "Jesus Christ and Him crucified,"* or "Jesus and the resur- ^ rection."!" The power by which men become children of the second Adam is a free gift of God through Christ. It is wholly undeserved grace.^^ This God sends to whom He will, and withholds from whom He will.^^ The condition of the reception of grace on man's part is faith.^' "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth Jesus as Lord, and shalt believe in thy heart that God raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." " This doctrine is of great importance, for it makes the essence of the Christian life not any mere belief about Christ, nor any purely forensic justification, as Protestants have often interpreted Paul, but a vital, personal relationship. The designation of Jesus as "Lord" was one, as Bousset has pointed out,^^ which had its rise in the Gentile churches of Syria, not impossibly in Antioch, and was the natural expression of those who had long been accustomed to employ it regarding their highest objects of veneration for their devotion to their new Master. To Paul, » Romans S'- ^^ ". » Roinans S'^-'". ' Romana ^8^"^ ; 1 Cor. 16«. * Romans 3"-". f>Gal. 2^. « Romans V. ^ 1 Cor. 1512 1». 8 Romans Q^^K ^ 1 Cor. 2^. JO Ads 171'. 11 Romans 3". '^ Romans 9^-^. " Romans 3»-28. u Romans 10^ " Kyrios Chrislos, Gottingen, 1913. 32 PAUL'S TEACHING it is an epitome of his faith. Christ is the "Lord," himself the ( "slave." Nor is confidence in the resurrection less necessary, as the crowning proof of Christ's divine Sonship.' The Christian life is one filled with the Spirit. All graces are from Him, all gifts and guidance. Man having the Spirit is a new creature. Living the life of the Spirit, he no longer lives that of the "flesh." But that all-transforming and in- / dwelling Spirit is Christ Himself. "The Lord is the Spirit." ^ / If Christ thus stands in such relation to the individual disciple that union with Him is necessary for all true Christian life. He is in no less vital association with the whole body of be- lievers — the church. Paul uses the word church in two senses, as designating the local congregation, Philippi, Corinth, Rome, / "the church that is in their house," and as indicating the whole / body of believers, the true Israel. In the latter sense it is the / body of Christ, of which each local congregation is a part.^ / From Christ come all officers and helpers, all spiritual gifts."* / He is the source of the life of the church, and these gifts are ^ evidence of His glorified lordship.^ Like the early disciples generally, Paul thought the coming of Christ and the end of the existing world-order near; though his views underwent some modification. In his earlier epistles he evidently believed it would happen in his lifetime.^ As he came toward the close of his work he felt it likely that he would die before the Lord's coming.^ Regarding the resur- rection, Paul had the greatest confidence. Here, however, Hebrew and Greek ideas were at variance. The Hebrew con- } ception was a living again of the flesh. The Greek, the im- mortality of the soul. Paul does not always make his posi- tion clear. Romans 8^^ looks like the Hebrew thought ; but the great passage in 1 Cor. IS^^-^^ points to the Greek. A judgment is for all,^ and even among the saved there will be great difi'erences.^ The end of all things is the subjection of all, even Christ, to God the Father.^" ^ Romam V. ^2 Cor. y. *Eph. !"• ='; Col. 1". *Eph. 4"; 1 Cor. 12<-". » Eph. 4'-'". « 1 Thess. 4'3-i8. ' PhUippians 1". "; 2 Tim. 4«-». ^2 Cor. 5'". » 1 Cor. ai"-!*. 10 1 Cor. IS^^-". PERSECUTION AND GROWTH 33 SECTION VI. THE CLOSE OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE The history and fate of most of the Apostles is unknown. Though Peter cannot have been in Rome while Paul was writing his epistles thence, and some scholars of weight still hold the evidence insufficient to show that he was ever there at all, the cumulative force of such intimations as have sur- vived make the conclusion probable that he was in Rome for a short time at least, and that his stay ended in martyrdom by crucifixion in the Neronian persecutions.^ Such a stay, and especially such a death, would link him permanently with the Roman Church. On the other hand, a residence of John in Ephesus is much less assured. The persecution under Nero was as fierce as it was local. A great fire in Rome, in July, 64, was followed by charges un- justly involving the Christians, probably at Nero's instigation, to turn popular rumor from himself. Numbers suffered death by horrible torture in the Vatican gardens, where Nero made their martyrdom a spectacle.^ Thenceforth he lived in Chris- tian tradition as a type of antichrist ; but the Roman Church ^ survived in strength. The destruction of Jerusalem at the close of the Jewish rebellion, in 70, was an event of more per- manent significance. It almost ended the already waning in- fluence of the Palestinian congregations in the larger concerns of the church. This collapse, and the rapid influx of converts from heathen antecedents soon made Paul's battle for freedom from law no longer a living question. Antioch, Rome, and be- fore the end of the century, Ephesus, were now the chief cen- tres of Christian development. The converts were mostly from the lower social classes,^ though some of better position, no- i tably women, were to be found among them. Such were Lydia of Philippi,* and, in much higher station, probably the consul, Flavius Clemens, and his wife, Flavia Domitilla, who suffered the one death and the other sentence of banishment in Rome under Domitian, in 95. To Domitilla, the Roman Church 1 1 Peter 5"; John 2\^^- i^; 1 Clement, 5, 6; Ignatius, Romans, 4'; Ire-* nseus, Against Heresies, 3:1:1; Caius of Rome in Eusebius, Church His- tory, 2 : 25 : 5-7. ^ Tacitus, Annals 15**; Ayer, A Source-Book for Ancient Church History,^ p. 6. M Cor. p6-23. *Actsm'*. 34 RAPID CHANGES owed one of its oldest catacombs. Of this persecution under Domitian (81-96) few details are known, but it must have been of severity in Rome and in Asia Minor.^ Yet though some gleanings can be recovered from this period, the forty years from 70 to 110 remain one of the obscurest por- tions of church history. This is the more to be regretted be- cause they were an epoch of rapid change in the church itself. When the characteristics of the church can once more be clearly traced its general conception of Christianity shows surprisingly little of the distinctive stamp of Paul. Not only must many now unknown missionaries have labored in addition to the great Apostle, but an inrush of ideas from other than Christian sources, brought undoubtedly by converts of heathen ante- cedents, modified Christian beliefs and practices, especially regarding the sacraments, fastings, and the rise of liturgical forms. The old conviction of the immediacy of the guidance of the Spirit faded, without becoming wholly extinguished. The constitution of the church itself underwent, in this period, a far-reaching development, of which some account will be given (p. 44). An illustration of this non-Pauline Christianity, though without evidence of the infiltration of heathen ideas, is to be seen in the Epistle of James. Written late in the first cen- tury or early in the second, it is singularly poor in theological content. Its directions are largely ethical. Christianity, in the conception of the writer, is a body of right principles duly practised. Faith is not, as with Paul, a new, vital, personal relationship. It is intellectual conviction which must be sup- plemented by appropriate action. It is a new and simple moral law.^ To this obscure period is due the composition of the Gos- pels. No subject in church history is more difficult. It would appear, however, that at an early period, not now definitely to be fixed, a collection of the sayings of Christ was in circula- tion. Probably not far from 75-80, and according to early and credible tradition at Rome, Mark's Gospel came into existence. Its arrangement was not purely historic, the selec- tion of the materials being determined evidently by the im- portance attached to the doctrines and ecclesiastical usages which they illustrated. With large use of the collection of » 1 Clement, 1 ; Rev. 2«'. ''; 713. u, 2 James 1"; 2"-2«. THE GOSPELS' 35 V sayings and of Mark, Mattheio and Luke's Gospels came into being, probably between 80 and 95 ; the former probably having Palestine as its place of writing, and the latter coming, there is some reason to believe, from Antioch. The Johannine Gos- pel is distinctly individual, and may not unfairly be ascribed to Ephesus, and to the period 95-110. Other gospels were in circulation, of which fragments survive, but none which com- pare in value with the four which the church came to regard as canonical. There seems to have been little of recollections of Jesus extant at the close of the first century which was not gathered into the familiar Gospels. That this was the case may be ascribed to the great Jewish war and the decline of the Palestinian Hebrew congregations. To the Gospels the church owes the priceless heritage of its knowledge of the life of its Master, and a perpetual corrective to the one-sidedness of an interpretation, which, like even the great message of Paul, pays little attention to His earthly ministry. SECTION VII. THE INTERPRETATION OF JESUS An inevitable question of the highest importance which arose with the proclamation of Christianity, and must always de- mand consideration in every age of the church, is: What is to be thought of the Founder? The earliest Christology, as has been pointed out, was Messianic. Jesus was the Messiah of Jewish hope, only in a vastly more spiritual sense than that hope commonly implied. He had gone, but only for a brief time.'^ He was now in exaltation, yet what must be thought of His earthly life, that had so little of "glory" in it, as men use that term? That life of humiliation, ending in a slave's death, was but the fulfilment of prophecy. God had fore- shadowed the things that "His Christ should suffer.^ Early Jewish Christian thought recurred to the suffering servant of Isaiah, who was " wounded for our transgressions." ^ Christ is the "servant" or "child," (Trat? OeoO), in the early Petrine addresses.^ The glorification was at the resurrection. He is now " by the right hand of God exalted." ^ This primitive conception of the suffering servant exalted, persisted. It is that, in spite of a good deal of Pauline admixture, of the epistle 1 Acts 321. « Acts 31*. 3 Isaiah 53*. * Acts 312. 2« ; 427. 30 « ^4c^s 2^2. 33 J 419. la, 36 THE EARLIEST CHRISTOLOGIES known as 1 Peter (S'^'^^). Clement, writing from Rome to the Corinthians, 93-97, also shares it.^ It does not necessarily imply pre-existence. It does not make clear the relationship of Christ to God. It had not thought that problem out. An obvious distinction soon was apparent. The disciples had known Christ in His life on earth. They now knew Him by His gifts in His exaltation. They had known Him after the flesh ; they now knew Him after the spirit^ — that is as the Jesus of history and the Christ of experience. To super- ficial consideration, at least, these two aspects were not easy of / adjustment. The Jesus of history lived in a definite land, I under human conditions of space and time. The Christ of experience is Lord of all His servants, is manifested as the Spirit at the same moment in places the most diverse, is om- nipresent and omniscient. Paul regards it as a mark of Chris- ' • tianity that men call upon Him everywhere.^ He prays to Him himself.* In his most solemn asseveration that his apostle- ship is not of any human origin, Paul classes God and Christ y^ together as its source.^ These attributes and powers of the Christ of experience are very like divine, it is evident ; and they inevitably raised the question of Christ's relation to the Father as it had not been raised thus far, and in a mind of far subtler powers and greater training and education than that of any of the earlier disciples, that of Paul. Paul knew Hebrew theology well, with its conception of the divine "wisdom" as present with God before the foundation of the world. ^ He also knew something of Stoicism, with its doctrine of the universal, omnipresent, fashioning divine in- telligence, the Logos, that in many ways resembled the He- brew wisdom. He knew the Isaian conception of the suffer- ing servant. To Paul, therefore, the identification of the \ exalted Christ with the divine wisdom — Logos — was not only easy, but natural; and that wisdom — Logos — must be pre- existent and always with God. He is "the Spirit of God,"^ the "wisdom of God.''^ "In Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily." ^ Even more, as in the Stoic conception of the Logos, He is the divine agent in creation; "all things have been created through Him and unto Him." i" Though Paul > 1 Clement, IG. 2 Rumans P. «. M Cor. P. «2 Cor. 12*. ». ''Gal. 1». ^ Frov. S"^. ", » 1 Cor. 2". ". "Ibid., l^*. » Col. 2». ^Col. 1". PAUL'S CHRISTOLOGY 37 probably never in set terms called Christ God,' he taught Christ's unity in character with God. He "knew no sin";' He is the full manifestation of the love of God, which is greater than any human love, and the motive spring of the Christian life in us.^ It is plain, therefore, that though Paul often calls Christ man, he gives Him an absolutely unique position, and classes Him with God. „ If the Christ of experience was thus pre-existent and post- existent in glory for Paul, how explain the Jesus of history? He was the suffering servant.^ His humble obedience was followed, as in the earlier Petrine conception, by the great reward. "Wherefore also God highly exalted Him and gave unto Him the name which is above every name . . . that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." Paul looks upon the whole earthly life of Jesus as one of humilia- tion. It was indeed significant. "God was in Christ recon- ciling the world unto Himself." ^ Yet it was only "by the resurrection" that He was "declared to be the Son of God with power." ^ Paul's Christology combines, therefore, in a remarkable manner, Hebrew and Gentile conceptions. In it appear the suffering and exalted servant, the pre-existent divine wisdom, the divine agent in creation, and the redeemer power who for man's sake came down from heaven, died, and rose again. Within half a generation of Paul's death, however, a differ- ing interpretation appeared, probably representing an inde- pendent line of thought. It was that of the Gospel of Mark. The writer knew nothing of Paul's view of Christ's pre-existence. In his thought, Christ was from His baptism the Son of God by adoption.'^ That He was the Son of God thenceforth, in all His earthly lot, is the evangelist's endeavor to show. There was humiliation, indeed, but there was a glory also in His earthly life, of which Paul gives no hint. He had not to wait for the demonstration of the resurrection. The voice from heaven declared Him the Son at baptism. The man with an unclean spirit saluted Him at His first preaching as "the Holy One of God" (P^). The spirits of those possessed ^ The translations, which imply that, in Romans 9^ and Titus 3i', are for various reasons to be rejected as Pauline. = 2 Cor. 521. 3 Romans 8'', 5^- « ; Gal. 2^". * Philippians 2«-". 6 2 Cor. 5". 6 Romans V. '' Mark P-". 38 CHRISTOLOGIES OF THE GOSPELS cried, "Thou art the Son of God" (3^^). He was transfigured before Peter, James, and John, while a heavenly voice pro- claims : " This is my beloved Son " (9^'*) . The evangelist can only explain the lack of universal recognition in Christ's life- time on earth by the declaration that He charged spirits and disciples not to make Hun known (e. g. P^ 3^-, 5^^, 9^). It is evident that this is a very different interpretation from that of Paul. Mark's view was evidently unsatisfactory to his own age. It had no real theory of the incarnation. It does not trace back the sonship far enough. If that sonship was manifested in a portion of Christ's life, why not in all His life ? That im- pressed the writers of the next two Gospels, Matthew and Luke. Like Mark, they have no trace of Paul s doctrine of pre-exist- ence — their authors did not move in Paul's theological or phil- osophical realm. But they make the manifestation of Christ's divine sonship date from the very inception of His earthly existence. He was of supernatural birth. Like Mark, both regard His life as other than one of humiliation only. Yet for minds steeped in the thoughts of Paul even these could not be satisfying interpretations. A fourth Gospel ap- peared about 95-110, probably in Ephesus, which sprang into favor, not only on account of its profoundly spiritual inter- pretation of the meaning of Christ, but because it combined in one harmonious presentation the divided elements of the Christologies which had thus far been current. In the Gospel which bears the name of John, the pre-existence and creative activity of Christ is as fully taught as by Paul. Christ is the Logos, the Word who "was with God, and the Word was God"; "All things were made by Him" (1^'^). There is no hint of virgin birth, as in Matthew and Luke, but a real, though unexplained, incarnation is taught: "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (1"). The tendency of the earlier Gos- pels to behold glory, as well as humiliation, in Christ's earthly life is carried much further. That life is one primarily in which He "manifested His glory" (2'S see 1^^). He declares to the woman of Samaria that He is the Messiah (4^®). He is regarded as "making Himself equal with God" (5^^). He re- members the glory of His pre-existence (17^). He walks through life triumphantly "^conscious of His high divine mis- sion. In the account of the Garden of Gethsemane no note OTHER CHRISTOLOGIES 39 appears of the pathetic prayer that this cup pass from Him.^ In the story of the crucifixion there is no anguished cry : " My God, why hast thou forsaken me";^ rather, as with a sense of a predetermined work accomplished, He dies with the words : "It is finished."^ Beyond question this Christology was eminently satisfactory to the second century. It gave an explanation, natural to the age, of that lordship which Chris- tian feeling universally ascribed to Christ. It united the most valued portions of the older Christologies. Though much dis- sent from it was to appear, it was formative of what was to triumph as orthodoxy. In spite of this Johannine Christology, traces of more naive and less philosophic interpretations survived. Such were those of the obscure relics of extreme Judaizing Christianity, known in the second century as Ebionites. To them, Jesus was the son of Joseph and Mary, who so completely fulfilled the Jew- ish law that God chose Him to be the Messiah. He improved and added to the law, and would come again to found a Messi- anic kingdom for the Jews. Such, in a very different way, was Hermas of Rome (115-140), who strove to combine Paul's doctrine of "the holy pre-existent Spirit which created the whole creation," * with that of the suffering and exalted servant. The "servant," pictured as a slave in the vineyard of God, is the "flesh in which the holy Spirit dwelt . . . walking hon- orably in holiness and purity, without in any way defiling the Spirit."^ As a reward, God chose the "flesh," i.e., Jesus, "as a partner with the holy Spirit"; but this recompense is not peculiar to Him. He is but a forerunner, "for all flesh, which is found undefiled and unspotted, wherein the holy Spirit dwelt, shall receive a reward." ^ This is, of course, in a sense adoptionist. It was not easy for unphilosophic minds to combine in one harmonious picture the Jesus of history and the Christ of experience; and even in philosophic inter- pretations this contrast had much to do with the rise and wide spread of Gnosticism in the second century. The significance of the Gospel according to John in the de- velopment of Christology has been noted ; its influence in the interpretation of salvation was no less important. With it are to be associated the Johannine Epistles. This literature 1 181-" ; compare Mark 1432-«, 2 Mark IS^*. » John 19»". *Sim.,5\ 6 Ibid. '^ Ibid. K 40 THE NATURE OF SALVATION probably had its rise in a region, Ephesus, where Paul long worked. Its position is Pauline, but developed in the direc- tion of a much intenser mysticism. This mysticism centres about the thoughts of life and union with Christ, both of which are Pauline, and yet treated in a way unlike that of Paul. Life is the _great word of the Johannine literature. He who knows the Christ of present experience has life. "This is life eternal, that tHey should know Thee, the only true God, and Him whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ."^ For the writer, the world is divisible into two simple classes: "He that hath the Son hath the life, he that hath not the Son of God hath not the life." ^ By life, the author does not mean simple existence. To him it is blessed, purified immortality. "Now are we children of God, and it is not yet made mani- fest what we shall be. We know that if He shall be manifested we shall be like Him." ^ This life is based on union with Christ, and this union is a real sacramental participation. One can but feel that there is here the influence of ideas similar to those of the mystery religions. Paul had valued the Lord's Supper. To him it was a "communion" of the body and blood of Christ, ..a "remembrance" of Christ, through which: "Ye proclaim the Lord's death till He come."^ The Johannine literature goes further: "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood ye have not life in yourselves." ^ The Lord's Supper is already a mystical sacrament necessary for that union with Christ which is to procure a blessed immortality. The Johannine literature stands on a spiritual plane of ut- most loftiness. It is instructive to see how some of these prob- lems looked to a contemporary of the same general school, an equally earnest Christian, but of far less spiritual elevation. Such a man is Ignatius of Antioch. Condemned as a Christian in his home city, in the last years of Trajan, 110-117, he was sent a prisoner to Rome to be thrown to the wild beasts. Of his history little is known, but from his pen seven brief letters exist, six of them written to the churches of Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Rome, Philadelphia, and Smyrna; and one a personal note to Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna. They are full of gratitude for kindnesses shown on his journey, of warnings against spiri- » Juhji 173 ; see also S^^. 3«, 6", 10". •^, etc. » 1 John 5"= ; compare John 3^\ s 1 John 32. * 1 Cor. 10'«, 11". ■'". ^John 6". IGNATIUS 41 tual perils, and of exhortations to unity. Their significance for the history of Christian institutions will be considered in Section IX. Ignatius has the same lofty Christology as the Johannine literature. Christ's sacrifice is "the blood of God." ^ He greets the Romans in "Jesus Christ our God." Yet he did not identify Christ wholly with the Father. "He is truly of the race of David according to the flesh, but Son of God by the divine will and power." ^ As in the Johannine literature, Ignatius held union wuth Christ necessary for life : "Christ Jesus, apart from whom we have not true life" ^ — and that life is ministered through the Lord's Supper. His concep- tion of the Supper was, however, well-nigh magical. He says of it : " Breaking one bread which is the medicine of immor- tality and the antidote that we should not die but live forever in Jesus Christ." ^ Ignatius's most original thought was that the incarnation was the manifestation of God for the revela- tion of a new humanity. Before Christ the world was under the devil and death. Christ brought life and immortality.^ "• In the Johannine and the Ignatian writings alike, salvation was life, in the sense of the transformation of sinful mortality into blessed immortality. This thought had roots in Paul's teaching. Through the school of Syria and Asia Minor this became, in the Greek-speaking church, the conception of sal- vation. It w^as one that lays necessary emphasis on the per- son of Christ and the incarnation. The Latin conception, as will be seen, was that salvation consists in the establishment of right relations with God and the forgiveness of sins. This, too, had its Pauline antecedents. It necessarily lays prime weight on divine grace, the death of Christ, and the atonement. These conceptions are not mutually exclusive ; but to these differences of emphasis is ultimately due much of the contrast in the later theological development of East and West. SECTION VIII. GENTILE CHRISTIANITY OF THE SECOND CENTURY By the year 100 Christianity was strongly represented in Asia Minor, Syria, Macedonia, Greece, and Rome, and proba- bly also in Egypt, though regarding its introduction into that ^Eph.l. ^Smyrn.,1. ^Tral.,9. * Eph. 20. 6 Eph. 19, 20. 42 THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS land there is no certain knowledge. It had extended very slightly, if at all, to the more western portion of the empire. Asia Minor was more extensively Christianized than any other land. About 111-113 Pliny, the governor of Bithynia, could report to Trajan that it was affecting the older temple worship.^ It was strongly missionary in spirit, and constantly extending. Common Christianity, however, was far from representing, or even understanding, the lofty theology of Paul or of the Johannine literature. It moved in a much simpler range of thought. Profoundly loyal to Christ, it conceived of Him primarily as the divine revealer of the knowledge of the true God, and the proclaimer of a "new law" of simple, lofty, and strenuous morality. This is the attitude of the so-called "Apostolic Fathers," with the exception of Ignatius, whose thought has already been discussed. These Christian writers were thus named because it was long, though erroneously, believed that they were personal dis- ciples of the Apostles. They include Clement of Rome (c. 93- 97); Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110-117); Polycarp of Smyrna (c. 110-117); Hermas of Rome (c. 115-140); the author who wrote under the name of Barnabas, possibly in Alexandria (c. 131) ; and the anonymous sermon called Second Clement (c. 160-170). To this literature should be added the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles (c. 130-160, but presenting a survival of very primitive conditions). The anonymous Epistle to Di- ognetus, often included among the writings of the Apostolic Fa- thers, is probably later than their period. Christians looked upon themselves as a separated people, / a new race, the true Israel, whose citizenship was no longer in the Roman Empire, though they prayed for its welfare and that of its ruler, but in the heavenly Jerusalem.^ They are the church "which was created before the sun and moon," "and for her sake the world was framed. "^ The conception of the church was not primarily that of the aggregate of Chris- tians on earth, but of a heavenly citizenship reaching down to earth, and gathering into its own embrace the scattered Christian communities.^ To this church the disciple is ad- mitted by baptism. It is "builded upon waters."^ That » Letters, lO^s; Ayer, p. 20. 2 1 ciem., 61 ; Hermas, Sim., 1. 'Hermas, Vis., 2*; 2 Clem., 14. * Teaching, 9. * Hermas, Vis., 3'. CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORSHIP 43 baptism implied antecedent belief in the truth of the Christian message, engagement to live the Christian life, and repentance.^ Services were held on Sunday^ and probably on other days.^ These had consisted from the Apostles' time of two kinds: meetings for reading the Scriptures, preaching, song and prayer;^ and a common evening meal with which the Lord's Supper was conjoined. By the time Justin Martyr wrote his Apology in Rome (153), the common meal had disappeared, and the Supper was joined with the assembly for preaching, as a concluding sacrament.'* The Supper was the occasion for offerings for the needy.^ The beginnings of liturgical forms are to be found before the close of the first century.^ Christian life was ascetic and legalistic. Wednesday and Friday were fasts, which were called "stations," as of soldiers of Christ on guard. ^ The Lord's Prayer was repeated thrice daily.* "Fasting is better than prayer, but almsgiving than both."® Second marriage was discouraged.^" Simple repent- ance is not sufiicient for forgiveness, there must be satisfaction.^^ A Christian can even do more than God demands — works of supererogation — and will receive a corresponding re ward. ^^ Great generosity was exercised toward the poor, widows, and orphans, some going so far as to sell themselves into slavery to supply the needy.^^ The rich were felt to be rewarded and helped by the prayers of the poor.^* Wealthy congregations redeemed prisoners and sent relief to a distance, and in these works none was more eminent than that of Rome. On the other hand, though slaves were regarded as Christian brethren, their manumission was discouraged lest, lacking support, they fall into evil ways.^^ There is evidence, also, that the more well-to-do and higher stationed found the ideal of brotherhood difficult to maintain in practice.'^ For Christians of heathen antecedents it was difficult to deny the existence of the old gods. They were very real to * Justin, Apology, 61 ; Ayer, p. 33. ^ Justin, ibid., 67 ; Ayer, p. 35. ^ Justin, ibid., 67 ; see also PUny, Letters, 10'*; Ayer, pp. 21, 35. ♦ 65, 67 ; Ayer, pp. 33-35. ^ Justin, ibid., 67. ® 1 Clem., 59-61, see also Teaching, 9, 10; Ayer, pp. 38, 39. ' Teaching, 8 ; Hermas, Sim., 5^ ; Ayer, p. 38. 8 Teaching, 8 ; Ayer, p. 38. » 2 Clem., 16. " Hermas, Maud.. 4*. " Ibid., Sim., 7. " Ibid., Sim., 5^- '; Ayer, p. 48. " 1 Clem., 55. " Hermas, Sim., 2. ^^ Ignatius to Polycarp, 4. "Hermas, Sim., 9". 44 SPIRIT-FILLED LEADERS them, but were looked upon as demons, hostile to Christianity.* The Christians of the second century explained the resemblance between their own rites and those of the mystery religions, \.of which they were aware, as a parody by demons.^ Fear, thus of demon influence was characteristic, and led to much use of exorcism in the name of Christ.^ For all men there is to be a resurrection of the flesh, and a final judgment.'* SECTION IX. CHRISTIAN ORGANIZATION No question in church history has been more darkened by controversy than that of the origin and development of church officers, and none is more difficult, owing to the scantiness of the evidence that has survived. It is probable that the de- velopment was diverse in different localities. Not all early Christian congregations had identical institutions at the same time. Yet a substantial similarity was reached by the middle of the second century. Something has already been said of the constitution of the Jewish Christian congregations.^ The present discussion has to do with those on Gentile soil. The earliest Gentile churches had no officers in the strict sense. Paul's letters to the Galatians, Corinthians, and Romans make no mention of local officers. Those to the Corinthians could hardly have avoided some allusion, had such officers ex- isted. Their nearest approach^ is only an exhortation to be in subjection to such as Stephanas, and does not imply that he held office. The allusion in 1 Thess. 5^^ to those that "are over you in the Lord" is, at best, very obscure. Paul's earlier , epistles show that all ministries in the church, of whatever sort, were looked upon as the direct gift of the Spirit, who in- spires each severally for the service of the congregation.^ It is fair to conclude that these bearers of the gifts of the Spirit might be difl"erent at different times, and many in the church might equally become vehicles of the charismatic inspiration. Paul, however, specifies three classes of leaders as in particular the gift of the Spirit — Apostles, prophets, teachers.^ He him- self regarded his Apostolate as charismatic.^ If the Apostles' work was primarily that of founding Christian churches, those ' Justin, ylpo?o^j/, 5. ^ Ibid., &2. ^ Ibid., Dialogue, S5. * 2 Clem., 9, 16. ^ Ante, p. 23. « 1 Cor. IGi". is. J 1 Cor. 12*-'i. 28-30^ 14=6.33, 8 1 Cor. 1228. » Gal. V- ""is; 1 Cor. 14«. RISE OF PERMANENT OFFICERS 45 of the prophet and teacher were the proclamation or interpre- tation of the divinely inspired message. The exact shade of difference between prophet and teacher is impossible to dis- cover. All, however, were charismatic men. The worst of sins was to refuse to hear the Spirit speaking through them.^ Yet Paul undoubtedly exercised a real missionary superinten- dence over the churches founded by him, and employed his younger assistants in the work.^ It is difficult to distinguish this from ordinary supervision such as any founder might employ. It was inevitable, however, that such unlimited confidence as the earliest congregations possessed in charismatic gifts should be abused. The Teaching of tJie Twelve Apostles shows that self-seeking and fraudulent claimants to divine guidance were soon preying on the churches.^ Tests had to be found to discriminate the true from the false. In the Teaching, and in Hermas'^ the touchstone is character. In 1 John 4}'"^ it is orthodoxy of teaching. The prophets long continued. They are to be found in Rome as late as the time of Hermas (115- 140), to say nothing of the claims of those whom the church judged heretical, like Montanus and his followers even later. Such uncertain leadership could not, in the nature of things, continue unmodified. For his farewell message Paul called to Miletus the "elders" {irpea ^vrepot) of the church of Ephesus, exhorting them to "take heed unto yourselves and to all the flock in which the Holy Ghost hath made you bishops" — eVicr/coTrot — overseers.^ These are in a certain sense charis- matic men. They have been made bishops by the Holy Spirit. But they are recipients of a charism which makes them a defi- nite group having particular duties to the congregation. In one of his latest letters Paul speaks of the " bishops and deacons" of the church in Philippi (1^). Even if this be held to mean the discharge of functions only — "those who oversee and those who serve" — the advance beyond the conditions of the Corin- thian epistles is apparent. The gifts may be charismatic, but the recipients are beginning to be holders of a permanent official relation. Why these local officers developed is un- known ; but the interests of good order and worship, and the example of the synagogue are probable suggestions. Absence * Teaching, 11; Ayer, p. 40. 2 E. g., Timothy in 1 Cor. 4i^ le"". 3 11 ; Ayer, p. 40. " Mand., 11. ^ ^cte 20"-29. 46 BISHOPS AND PRESBYTERS of prophets and teachers by whom worship could be con- ducted and the congregation led was certainly a cause in some places. The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles directs: "Ap- point for yourselves, therefore, bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord, men who are meek and not lovers of money, and true and approved ; for unto you they also perform the service of the prophets and teachers. Therefore despise them not; for they are your honorable men along with the prophets and teachers" (15). At Philippi, Ephesus, and in the Teaching, these "bishops" are spoken of in the plural. This is also true of Rome and of Corinth when Clement of Rome wrote in 93-97.* Clement speaks, also, of those against whom the church in Corinth had rebelled as its "appointed presby- ters" (54); and of "those who have offered the gifts of the bishop's office" as presbyters (44). Poly carp of Smyrna, writing to Philippi in 110-117, mentions only presbyters and •deacons and their duties. Hermas, 115-140, would seem to imply that as late as his time there was this collegiate oflSce at Rome. It is "the elders (presbyters) that preside over the church." 2 He speaks only of the duties of "deacons" and "bishops." 3 Ancient interpretation, such as that of Jerome, saw in these collegiate bishops and presbyters the same persons, the names being used interchangeably. That is the opinion of most modern scholars, and seems the probable conclusion. The view of the late Edwin Hatch, as developed by Harnack, holds, however, that presbyters were the older brethren in the congregation, from whom the collegiate bishops were taken. A bishop would be a presbyter, but a presbyter not necessarily a bishop. The subject is one of difficulty, the more so as the word "presbyter," like the English "elder" is used in early Christian literature both as a general designation of the aged, and as a technical expression. Its particular meaning is hard always to distinguish. It is evident, however, that till some time after the year 100, Rome, Greece, and Macedonia had at the head of each congregation a group of collegiate bishops, or presbyter-bishops, with a number of deacons as their help- ers. These were chosen by the church,* or at least "with the consent of the whole church." ^ » 1 Clem., 42, 44. » Vis., 2*. a Sim., 926. ". * Teaching, 15; Ayer, p. 41. '1 Clem., 44; Ayer, p. 37. THE THREEFOLD MINISTRY 47 Contemporary with the later portion of the literature just described, there is another body of writings which indicates the existence of a threefold ministry consisting of a single, monarchical bishop, presbyters, and deacons in each congre- gation of the region to which it applies. This would appear to be the intimations of 1 Timothy and Titus, though the treat- ment is obscure. Whatever Pauline elements these much dis- puted letters contain, their sections on church government betray a development very considerably beyond that of the other Pauline literature, and can scarcely be conceived as belonging to Paul's time. It is interesting to observe that the regions to which the letters are directed are Asia Minor and the adjacent island of Crete, the former being one of the terri- tories in which the monarchical bishopric is earliest evident in other sources. What is relatively obscure in these epistles is abundantly clear in those of Ignatius, 110-117. Himself the monarchical bishop of Antioch,^ he exalts in every way the authority of the local monarchical bishop in the churches of Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, and Smyrna. In four of these churches he mentions the bishop by name. Only when writing to the Romans he speaks of no bishop, probably for the sufficient reason that there was as yet no monarchical bishop at Rome. The great value to Ignatius of the monarchical bishop is as a rallying-point of unity, and as the best opponent of heresy. "Shun divisions as the beginning of evils. Do ye'; all follow your bishop, as Jesus Christ followed the Father, and the presbytery as the Apostles, and to the deacons pay respect." - The monarchical bishopric is not yet diocesan, it is the headship of the local church, or at most of the congrega- tions of a single city ; but Ignatius does not treat it as a new institution. He accepts it as established, though it evidently did not always command the obedience which he desired.' It is evident, however, that the monarchical bishopric must have come into being between the time when Paul summoned the presbyter-bishops to Miletus* and that at which Ignatius wrote. 1 Romans 2. * Smym., 8. ' See Phila., 7, where Ignatius declares it is by charismatic inspiration, and not by knowledge of divisions, that he exhorted : "Do nothing with- out the bishop." * Acts 20"-«. 48 APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION How the monarchical bishopric arose is a matter of conjec- ture. Reasons that have been advanced by modern scholars are leadership in worship and the financial oversight of the congregation in the care of the poor and other obligations of charity. These are probable, the first-named perhaps the more probable. It is sufficient to observe, however, that leadership of a congregation by a committee of equals is unworkable for any protracted time. Some one is sure to be given headship. One further observation of great importance is to be made. Clement of Rome (93-97), writing when Rome had as yet no monarchical bishop, traces the existence of church officers to apostolical succession.^ It is no impeachment of the firmness of his conviction, though it militates against the historic ac- curacy of his view, that he apparently bases it on a misunder- standing of Paul's statement in 1 Cor. \&^' ^^. On the other hand, Ignatius, though urging in the strongest terms the value of the monarchical episcopate as the bond of unity, knows nothing of an apostolical succession. It was the union of these two principles, a monarchical bishop in apostolical succession, which occurred before the middle of the second century, that immensely enhanced the dignity and power of the bishopric. By the sixth decade of the second century monarchical bishops had become well-nigh universal. The institution was to gain further strength in the Gnostic and Montanist struggles; but it may be doubted whether anything less rigid could have car- ried the church through the crises of the second century. SECTION X. RELATIONS OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE ROMAN GOVERNMENT Christianity was at first regarded by the Roman authorities as a branch of Judaism, which stood under legal protection.'' The hostility of the Jews themselves must have made a dis- tinction soon evident, and by the time of the Neronian persecu- tion in Rome (64) it was plainly drawn. The Roman victims were not then charged, however, primarily with Christianity, but with arson — though their unpopularity with the multitude made them ready objects of suspicion. By the time that 1 Peter was written (c. 90), the mere fact of a Christian profes- sion had become a cause for punishment (4^®). How much 1 1 Cot-. 42, 44 ; Ayer, pp. 36, 37. « Ads 18"-". PERSECUTIONS 40 earlier "the name" had become a sufficient criminal charge it is impossible to say. Trajan's reply to Pliny, the governor of Bithynia (111-113), presupposes that Christianity was already viewed as criminal. That already recognized, the Emperor orders what must be deemed mild procedure from his point of view. Christians are not to be hunted out, and, if willing to abjure by sacrifice, are to be acquitted. Only in case of per- sistence are they to be punished.^ From the standpoint of a faithful Christian profession this was a test which could only be met by martyrdom. Trajan's immediate successors, Hadrian (117-138), and Antoninus Pius (138-161) pursued the same general policy, though discouraging mob accusations. Marcus Aurelius (161-180) gave renewed force to the law against strange religions (176), and initiated a sharper period of persecution which extended into the beginning of the reign of Commodus (180-192). Commodus, however, treated Christianity, on the whole, with the toleration of indifference. Always illegal, and with extreme penalties hanging over it, the Christian profession involved constant peril for its adherents; yet the number of actual martyrs in this period appears to have been relatively small compared with those of the third and fourth centuries. No general persecution occurred before 250. The charges brought against the Christians were atheism and anarchy .2 Their rejection of the old gods seemed atheism ; their refusal to join in emperor-worship appeared treasonable.^ Popular credulity, made possible by the degree to which the Christians held aloof from ordinary civil society, charged them with crimes as revolting as they were preposterous. A mis- understanding of the Christian doctrine of Christ's presence in the Supper must be deemed the occasion of the common accusation of cannibalism ; and its celebration secretly in the evening of that of gross licentiousness.^ Much of the govern- mental persecution of Christianity in this period had its incite- ment in mob attacks upon Christians. That w^as the case at Smyrna when Polycarp suffered martyrdom in 156; while a boycott, on the basis of charges of immoral actions, was the immediate occasion of the fierce persecution in Lyons and Vienne in 177.^ It is not surprising, therefore, that the major- 1 Pliny's Letters 10"; Ayer, p. 22. 2 Justin, Apology, 5, 6; 11, 12. 3 Martyrdom of Polycarp, 3, 8-10. * Justin, Dialogue, 10. *Eusebius, Church History, 5\. 50 THE APOLOGISTS ity of judicial proceedings against Christians in this period seem rather to have been under the general police power of magistrates to repress disturbance than by formal trial on the specific criminal charge of Christianity. Both procedures are to be found. To all these accusations the best answer of the Christians was their heroic constancy in loyalty to Christ, and their superior morality as judged by the standards of society about them. SECTION XI. THE APOLOGISTS These charges against Christians, and the hostile attitude of the Roman government, aroused a number of literary defenders, who are known as the Apologists. Their appearance shows that Christianity was making some conquest of the more in- tellectual elements of society. Their appeal is distinctly to intelligence. Of these Apologists the first was Quadratus, probably of Athens, who about 125 presented a defense of Chris- tianity, now preserved only in fragments, to the Emperor Hadrian. Aristides, an Athenian Christian philosopher, made a similar appeal, about 140, to Antoninus Pius. Justin wrote the most famous of these defenses, probably in Rome, about 153. His disciple, Tatian, who combined the four Gospels into his famous Diatessaron, also belonged to the Apologists. With them are to be reckoned Melito, bishop of Sardis, who wrote between 1G9 and 180 ; and Athenagoras, of whom little is known personally, whose defense, which survives, was made about the year 177. Here also belongs the Epistle to Diognetus, often reckoned among the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. There is no evidence that any of these Apologists greatly influenced heathen opinion, or that their appeal was seriously considered by the rulers whom it was their desire to persuade. Their work was deservedly valued in Christian circles, however, and undoubtedly strengthened Christian conviction of the nobility of the cause so earnestly defended. Several of the Apologists were from the ranks of the philosophers, and their philosophical interpretation aided in the development of the- ology. The most significant was Justin, and he may well stand as typical of the whole movement. Justin, called the Martyr, from his heroic witness unto death in Rome under the prefect Rusticus, about 1G5, was born in Shechem, in the ancient Samaria, of heathen ancestry. He JUSTIN INIARTYR 51 lived, for a time at least, in Ephesus, and it was in its vicinity probably that the conversion of which he gives a vivid account took place.^ An eager student of philosophy, he accepted suc- cessively Stoicism, Aristotelianism, Pythagoreanism, and Pla- tonism. While a Platonist his attention was directed to the Hebrew prophets, "men more ancient than all those who are esteemed philosophers." Theirs is the oldest and truest ex- planation "of the beginning and end of things and of those matters which the philosopher ought to know," since they were "filled with the holy Spirit." "They glorified the Creator, the God and Father of all things, and proclaimed His Son, the Christ." By his newly acquired conviction of the truth of their ancient prophetic message, Justin says : " straightway a flame was kindled in my soul ; and a love of the prophets and of those men who are friends of Christ. ... I found this philosophy alone to be safe and profitable." These quotations show the character of Justin's religious experience. It was not a profound and mystical union with a risen Lord, as with Paul. It was not a sense of forgiveness of sin. It was a con- viction that in Christianity is the oldest, truest, and most I divine of philosophies. Justin continued to look upon himself f as a philosopher. He made his home in Rome and there wrote, about 153, his Apology, addressed to the Emperor Antoninus Pius and that sovereign's adopted sons, defend- . ing Christianity from governmental antagonism and heathen /; criticisms. A little later, perhaps on a visit to Ephesus, he composed his Dialogue with Trypho, similarly presenting the Christian case against Jewish objections. A second sojourn in Rome brought him to a martyr's death. Justin's Apology (often called two Apologies, though the " second " is only an appendix) is a manly, dignified, and effec- tive defense. Christians, if condemned at all, should be pun- ished for definite proved crimes, not for the mere name without investigation of their real character. They are atheists only in that they count the popular gods demons unworthy of worship, not in respect to the true God. They are anarchists only to those who do not understand the nature of the kingdom that they seek. Justin then argues the truth of Christianity, especially from the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy, and briefly explains Christian sacraments and worship. ^ Dialogue, 2-8. 52 JUSTIN MARTYR' As a theologian, Justin's convictions were the result of his own experience. His central belief was that Christianity was the truest of philosophies, because taught by the prophets of the Old Testament, and by the divine Logos "our Teacher . . . who is both Son and Apostle of God the Father." ^ This divine Logos he conceives, in true Stoic fashion, as everywhere and always at work, teaching the Greeks, of whom he cites Socrates and Heraclitus, and the "barbarians," such as Abra- ham, so that these, and all who at any time obeyed the same guidance were really Christians.^ His great advance on Stoi- cism is his conviction that this all-illuminating divine Logos became definitely incarnate in Christ, so that in Him is the full revelation of that which elsewhere is less distinctly seen. The content of the Christian message Justin conceives in terms very similar to those of the best contemporary heathen phi- losophy — knowledge of God, morality, the hope of immortality, and future rewards and punishments. Like common non- Pauline Christianity, he views the Gospel as a new law, teaching a somewhat ascetic moral life. Justin's emphasis is on the divine Logos, subordinate to God the Father, yet His Son, His agent, and one with Him in some true, though rather in- definite, sense. This emphasis is really at the expense of the historic Jesus, for though both are identified, the earthly life of Jesus has little interest for Justin save as the great historic instance of the incarnation of the Logos, and therefore the occasion on which the divine philosophy was most fully re- vealed. He does, indeed, speak of Christ's "cleansing by His blood those who believe on Him";^ but such thoughts are not primary. Hence the theology of Justin, faithful martyr though he was, was essentially rationalizing, with little of the pro- foundly religious content so conspicuous in Paul, the Johannine literature, or even in Ignatius. It marks, however, a conscious union of Christian thought with the Gentile philosophy, and therefore the beginnings of a "scientific" theology. » Apology, 12. a Ibid., 46 ; Ayer, p. 72. ^ Ibid., 32. i PERIOD II. FROM THE GNOSTIC CRISIS TO CONSTANTINE SECTION I. GNOSTICISM The later New Testament literature, and at least one of the Apostolic Fathers, strongly combat conceptions of Christ which it is evident must have been widely prevalent, especially in Asia Minor, in the opening years of the second century. These views denied His real humanity and His actual death. He had not come "in the flesh," but in ghost-like, Docetic appearance.^ These opinions have generally been regarded as the beginnings of Gnosticism. It is true that this Docetic conception of Christ was a feature of much Gnostic teaching. It is more probable, however, that these early teachings were more largely based on an attempt to explain a seeming contra- diction between the Jesus of history and the Christ of experi- ence, than on purely Gnostic speculations. That earthly life of humiliation was so contrasted with His pre-existent and post- existent glory, that the simplest solution of the Christological problem may well have seemed to some the demal of the reality of His earthly life altogether. Christ did, indeed, appear. He taught His disciples ; but all the time as a heavenly being, not one of flesh and blood. Gnosticism, properly speaking, was something much more far-reaching. The height of its influence was from about 135 to 160, though it continued a force long after the latter date. It threatened to overwhelm the historic Christian faith, and by so doing brought upon the Christian Church its gravest crisis since the Pauline battle for freedom from law. Its spread and consequent peril were made possible by the relatively weakly organized, and doctrinally undefined state of the church at its beginning. The church overcame the danger ; but at the cost of the development of a rigidity of organization, creed, and government which rendered the condition of the church at 1 1 John P-3, 222, 42. 3 J Ignatius, Trallians, 9-11 ; Smyrn., 1-6. 53 54 GxNOSTICISM the close of the second century a striking contrast to that of its beginning.' Gnosticism professed to be based on "knowledge" (yvwaL^), but not as that word is now commonly understood. Its knowl- edge was always a mystical, supernatural wisdom, by which the initiates were brought to a true understanding of the universe, and were saved from this evil world of matter. It had a fun- damental doctrine of salvation. In these respects it was akin to the mystery religions. Its most prominent characteristic, however, was its syncretism. It took unto itself many elements from many sources, and assumed many forms. It is, therefore, impossible to speak of a single type of Gnosticism. It was prevailingly mystical, magical, or philosophical according to the dominant admixture in its syncretism. Gnosticism was pre-Christian in its origin, and was in existence before Chris- tianity came into the world. There were Jewish and heathen types. It is represented in the Hermetic literature of Egypt. It had astral elements which may be traced back to Babylonian religious conceptions, a dualistic view of the universe, Per- sian in origin, and a doctrine of emanations from God in the "pleroma" or realm of spirit, which was probably Egyptian. Perhaps its most fundamental conception, the wholly evil character of the phenomenal world, was due to a combination /bf the Platonic theory of the contrast between the real spiritual pphere of "ideas," and this visible world of phenomena, inter- preted in terms of Persian dualism — the one good and that to which man strives to return, the other wholly bad and the place of his imprisonment. The world of matter is evil. Its creator and ruler is not, therefore, the high, good God, but an inferior and imperfect being, the demiurge. Man, to be saved, must be freed from this bondage to the visible world, and its rulers, the planetary spirits ; and the means of his freedom is "knowledge" (yva)ai<;), a mystical, spiritual enlightenment for the initiated which brings him into communion with the true realm of spiritual realities. Strongly syncretistic abeady. Gnosticism found much in Christianity which it could use. In particular, the figure of Christ was especially adapted to give a definite and concrete cen- tre to its theory of a higher saving knowledge. He was the re- * U&eful selections regarding Gnosticism may be found in Ayerj pp. 7&-102. GNOSTICISM 55 vealer of the hitherto unknown high and all-perfect God to men. By that illumination all "spiritual" men, who were capable of^ receiving it, would be led back to the realm of the good God. Since the material world is evil, Christ could not have had _ a real incarnation, and the Gnostics explained His appearances;?'"""'^ either as Docetic and ghostly, or as a temporary indwelling of > the man Jesus, or as an apparent birth from a virgin mother without partaking of material nature. The God of the Old Testament, as the creator of this visible world, cannot be the high God whom Christ revealed, but the inferior demiurge. That all Christians did not possess the saving "knowledge," the Gnostics explained by holding it to be a secret teaching im- parted by the Apostles to their more intimate disciples, a speak- ing "wisdom among the perfect." ^ It is true that while Paul was in no sense a Gnostic, there were many things in Paul's teachings of which Gnostics availed themselves. His sharp \ contrast between flesh and spirit;^ his conception of Christ as | victor over those "principalities and powers" which are the "world rulers of this darkness,"^ and his thought of Christ as the Man from Heaven,'* were all ideas which the Gnostics could employ. Paul was always to them the chief Apostle. Gnosticism was divided into many sects and presented a great variety of forms. In all of them the high, good God is the head of the spiritual world of light, often called the "ple- roma." From that world fragments have become imprisoned in this visible world of darkness and evil. In later Gnosticism this fallen element from the pleroma is represented as the lowest of a series of aeons, or spiritual beings, emanating from the high God. To rescue this fallen portion, the seeds of light in thej visible evil world, Christ came, bringing the true "knowledge." By His teaching those capable of receiving it are restored toL. the pleroma. They are at best few. Most Gnostics divided mankind into "spiritual," capable of salvation, and "material" who could not receive the message. Later Gnosticism, es- pecially the school of Valentinus, taught a threefold division, "spiritual," who alone could attain "knowledge" ; "psychical," capable of faith, and of a certain degree of salvation ; and " ma- terial," who were hopeless. Christian tradition represented the founder of Christian » 1 Cor. 2«. 2 Romans 8^2-25 • 1 Cor. 15^. 8 Col. 2»= ; Eph. 612. 4 1 Cor. 15^'. 45 56 MARCION Gnosticism to be Simon Magus,^ but of his real relations to it little is known. More clearly defined leaders are Satornilus of Antioch, who labored before 150 ; Basilides, who taught in Alexandria about 130 ; and, above all, Valentinus, who was active in Rome from about 135 to 165, and w^ho must be re- garded as one of the most gifted thinkers of the age. Gnosticism was an immense peril for the church. It cut out the historic foundations of Christianity. Its God is not the God of the Old Testament, which is the work of an in- ferior or even evil being. Its Christ had no real incarnation, death, or resurrection. Its salvation is for the few capable of spiritual enlightenment. The peril was the greater because Gnosticism was represented by some of the keenest minds in the church of the second century. The age was syncretistic, and in some respects Gnosticism was but the fullest accomplish- ment of that amalgamation of Hellenic and Oriental philosophi- cal speculation with primitive Christian beliefs which was in greater or less degree in process in all Christian thinking. SECTION II. MARCION A special interest attaches to Marcion as one who was the first church reformer .^ Born in Sinope, in Asia Minor, where he was a wealthy ship-owner, he came to Rome about 139, and joined the Roman congregation, making it a gift for its benevo- lent work equivalent to ten thousand dollars. He soon came to feel that Christianity was under the bondage of legalism, and, under the light of the Gnostic teaching of Cerdo, he saw the root of this evil in acceptance of the Old Testament and its God. Never more than partially a Gnostic, his prime in- terest was in church reform. Salvation, with him, was by right faith rather than by knowledge. To Marcion, Paul was the only Apostle who had understood the Gospel ; all the rest had fallen into the errors of Judaism. The God of the Old Testa- ment is a just God, in the sense of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." He created the world and gave the Jew- ish law. Christ, who was a Docetic manifestation, revealed the heretofore unknown good God of mercy. The God of the Old Testament opposed Him ; but in Christ the authority of the Jewish law was done away, and the "just God" became un- ^ Acts S^--*; Irenaeus, Heresies, V^; Ayer, p. 79. 2 See selections, Ayer, pp. 102-103. MARCION AND ISIONTANISM 57 just because of this unwarranted hostility to the revealer of the "good God." The Old Testament and its God are therefore to be rejected by Christians. Christ proclaimed a Gospel of love and of righteousness by faith, though, curiously enough, Marcion was extremely ascetic in his conception of the Christian life. Marcion's endeavor to call the Roman Church back to what he deemed the Gospel of Christ and of Paul resulted in his own excommunication about 144. He now gathered followers into a separated church. For their use he compiled a canon of sacred books, composed of the epistles of Paul (omitting the Pastorals) , and the Gospel of Luke, shorn of all passages which implied that Christ regarded the God of the Old Testament as His Father, or was in any way related to Him. As far as is known, this was the first attempt to form an authoritative collection of New Testament writings. Marcion's movement was probably the most dangerous of those associated with Gnosticism. He sundered Christianity from its historic background as completely as had the more speculative Gnostic theories. He denied a real incarn ation, ^ 4 z: and condemned the Old Testament and its God. All this was the more plausible because done in the name of a protest against growing legalism. For such a protest there was much justification. His churches spread extensively, in the Orient especially, and survived into the fifth century. His own later history is wholly unknown. SECTION III. MONTANISM Unlike Gnosticism, Montanism was a movement distinctly of Christian origin. In most of the churches of the second cen- tury the early hope of the speedy return of Christ was growing dim. The consciousness of the constant inspiration of the Spirit, characteristic of the Apostolic Churches, had also largely faded. With this declining sense of the immediacy of the Spirit's present work came an increasing emphasis on His significance as the agent of revelation. Paul had identified the Spirit and r"" Christ.^ That was not the general feeling half a century later. The Spirit had been the inspiration of prophecy in the Old Testament.^ He guided the New Testament writers.' To 1 2 Cor. Z^\ ^ E. g., 1 Clem. 8, 13, 16; "the prophetic Spirit," Justin, Apology, 13. 3 1 Clem., 47. 58 IMONTANISM Christian thought at the beginning of the second century the Holy Spirit was differentiated from Christ, but was classed, like Him, with God. This appears in the Trinitarian baptismal formula,^ which was displacing the older baptism in the name of Christ.^ Trinitarian formulae were frequently in use by the close of the first and beginning of the second century.^ The Johannine Gospel represented Christ as promising the coming of the Holy Spirit to the disciples: "When the Com- forter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father, ^ He shall bear Witness of Me," (15-''). The second century y was convinced, therefore, not only that the Holy Spirit was in peculiar association with God the Father and Christ ; but that Christ had promised the Spirit's coming in more abundant measure in the future. It was this thought of the special dispensation of the Holy Spirit, combined with a fresh outburst of the early prophetic enthusiasm, and a belief that the end of the world-age was close at hand, that were represented in Montanism. To a considerable extent IMontanism was, also, a reaction from the secular tendencies already at work in the church. Montanus, from whom the movement was named, was of Ardabau, near the region of Asia Minor known as Phrygia — long noted for its ecstatic type of religion.* A tradition, recorded by Jerome, affirmed that, before conversion, he had been a priest of Cy- bele. About 156 INIontanus proclaimed himself the passive instrument through whom the Holy Spirit spoke. In this new revelation Montanus declared the promise of Christ fulfilled, and the dispensation of the Holy Spirit begun. To him were soon joined two prophetesses, Prisca and Maximilla. They now affirmed, as mouthpieces of the Spirit, that the end of the world was at hand, and that the heavenly Jerusalem was about to be established in Phrygia, whither believers should betake themselves. In preparation for the fast-approaching consum- mation the most strenuous asceticism should be practised, 'celibacy, fastings, and abstinence from meat. This vigorous attitude won response as a protest against the growing worldli- ness of the church at large, and to many was the most attractive feature of IMontanism. 1 Mall. 28'". 2 jifis 238. 3 ^. g_^ I ci(,fn, 46, 58; Ignatius, Eph., 9. * See Belections, Ayer, pp. lOG-109. MONTANISM 59 The movement speedily attained considerable proportions. By the bishops of Asia Minor, who felt their authority threat- ened, one or more synods were held soon after 160, which have the distinction of being the earliest synods of church history, and in which Montanism was condemned. Its progress was not easily checked, even by the death of the last of its original prophets, Maximilla, in 179. Soon after 170 it was represented in Rome, and for years the Roman church was more or less turmoiled by it. In Carthage it won Tertullian, about 207, attracted chiefly by its ascetic demands, who thenceforth was the most eminent Montanist. Though gradually driven out of the dominant church, Montanism continued to be represented in the Orient till long after the acceptance of Christianity by the imperial government. In Carthage the followers of Ter- tullian persisted till the time of Augustine. In its ascetic de- mands Montanism represented a wide-spread tendency, and an asceticism as strict as anything Montanism taught was later to find a place in the great church in monasticism. SECTION IV. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH Neither Gnosticism nor Montanism, though extremely peril- ous, were ever embraced by a majority of Christians. The large church remained faithful to historic Christianity. By the latter third of the second century it was calling itself the "Catholic" Church. The word "Catholic" is first used of the church by Ignatius,^ who employed it in the wholly un- technical sense of "universal." It is next to be found in the letter of the Church of Smyrna, describing the martyrdom of Polycarp (156), where it is difficult to decide whether the use is technical or not. Its employment as a technically descrip- tive adjective gradually became common, so that the strongly consolidated church that came out of the Gnostic and Mon- tanist crises is now usually described as the "Old Catholic." This Old Catholic Church developed its distinguishing char-^ acteristics between 160 and 190. The hitherto relatively in- dependent congregations were now knit into an effective union. The power of the bishops was greatly strengthened, a collection of authoritative New Testament Scripture recognized, and a creed formulated. Comparatively loosely organized Christianity 1 Smyrn., 8 ; Ayer, p. 42. 60 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH now became a rigid corporate body, having recognized official leaders and capable not merely of defining its faith, but of shutting out from its communion all who did not accept its creed or its officers. As a recent German writer has epitomized the change : " About 50, he was of the church who had received baptism and the Holy Spirit and called Jesus, Lord ; about 180, he who acknowledged the rule of faith (creed) , the New Testa- ment canon, and the authority of the bishops."^ In a measure, the beginnings of this great change may be seen before the Gnostic and Montanist crises ; but it was those struggles that brought it effectively into being. The character- istic answer of the Catholic Church to the Gnostics may be seen in the argument of Irenseus of Lyons.^ Against Gnostic claims Irenseus, writing about 185, held that the Apostles did not preach before they had "perfect knowledge" of the Gospel. That preaching they recorded in the Gospels — Matthew and John, were written by Apostles themselves; w^hile Mark re- produced the message of Peter and Luke that of Paul. Nothing Gnostic, Irenaeus declares, is found in any of them. But the Gnostic may object that, besides this public apostolic teaching in the Gospels, there was a viva voce instruction, a speaking "wisdom among the perfect," ^ of which Gnosticism was the heir. This Irenaeus denied. He argued that, had there been such private teaching, the Apostles would have intrusted it to those, above all others, whom they selected as their suc- cessors in the government of the churches. In these churches of apostolic foundation the apostolic teaching had been fully preserved, and its transmission had been guaranteed by the orderly succession of their bishops. Go therefore to Rome, or to Smyrna, or Ephesus, and learn what is there taught, and nothing Gnostic will be found. Every church must agree with that of Rome, for there apostolical tradition has been faithfully preserved as in other Apostolic Churches. It is difficult to see what more effective argument Irenaeus could have advanced in the peculiar situation which con- fronted him ; but It was an answer which greatly increased the significance of the churches of real or reputed apostolical foundation, and of their heads, the bishops. Irenaeus went further. The church Itself is the depository of Christian teach- ' Heussi, Kompendium dcr Kirchengeschichte, p. 44. 2 Heresies, 3:1-4; Ayer, pp. 112-114. 3 j (jor. 2\ APOSTOLICAL TRADITION AND CREED 61 ing: "Since the Apostles, like a rich man in a bank, lodged in her hands most copiously all things pertaining to the truth." ^ This deposit is especially intrusted to " those who, together with the succession of the episcopate, have received the certain gift— ^ of truth," 2 i. e. to the heads of the churches. To agree with S the bishops is therefore a necessity. This argument was noty peculiar to Irenseus, it was that of the leaders of Old Catholic teaching generally. While the power of the episcopate and the significance of churches of apostolical foundation was thus greatly enhanced, the Gnostic crisis saw a corresponding development of creed, at least in the West. Some form of instruction before baptism was common by the middle of the second century.^ At Rome this developed, apparently, between 150 and 175, and probably in opposition to Marcionite Gnosticism, into an explication of ^_^ the baptismal formula of Matt. 28^^ — the earliest known form of the so-called Apostles' Creed. What antecedents in Asia Minor, if any, it may have had is still a question in scholarly dispute. Without symbolic authority in the Orient, all the Western churches received this creed from Rome, and it was regarded, by the time of Tertullian at least, as having apostolic authority, that is as a summary of apostolic teaching.^ In its original form it read : " I believe in God the Father Almighty ; and in Christ Jesus, /, His only begotten Son, our Lord, who was born of the Holy/ Spirit and the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate and buried ; the third day He rose from the dead, ascended into the heavens, being seated at the right hand of the Father, whence ' He shall come to judge the living and the dead ; and in the Holy / Spirit, holy church, forgiveness of sins, resurrection of the / flesh." / The development of a canon of New Testament books was, also, the work of this period. By the church from the begin- ning the Old Testament was reckoned as Scripture. The Gos- pels and the letters of Paul were doubtless highly valued, but they did not, at first, have Scriptural authority. Clement of Rome (93-97), though constantly quoting the Old Testament as the utterance of God, was very free in his use of the words of the New Testament, and nowhere styled them divine. 1 Heresies, 3 : 41. 2 j^d., 4 : 262. * Justin, Apology, 61. * Prescription, 13, 36. 62 THE NEW TESTA^^IEXT CANON The earliest designation of a passage from the Gospels as "Scripture" was about 131, by the so-called Barnabas/ and of a quotation from Paul about 110-117, by Polycarp." By the time of Justin (153), the Gospels were read in the services in Rome, together with the Old Testament prophets.^ The proc- ess by which the New Testament writings came to Scriptural authority seems to have been one of analogy. The Old Testa- ment was everywhere regarded as divinely authoritative. Christians could think no less of their own fundamental books. The question was an open one, however, as to which were the canonical writings. Works like Hermas and Barnabas were read in churches. An authoritative list was desirable. Mar- cion had prepared such a canon for his followers. A similar enumeration was gradually formed, probably in Rome, by the Catholic party. Apparently the Gospels were the first to gain complete recognition, then the letters of Paul. By about 200, according to the witness of the Muratorian fragment, W^estern Christendom had a New Testament canon embracing Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Ephesians, Phil- ippians, Colossians, Galatians, 1 and 2 Thessalonians, Romans, Philemo7i, Titus, 1 and 2 Timothy, Jude, 1 and 2 John, Revela- tion, and the so-called Apocalypse of Peter. '^ In the Orient the development of a canon was not quite so rapid. Certain books, like Hebrews and Revelation were disputed. The whole process of canonical development into its precise present form was not completed in the West till 400, and in the East till even later. By the year 200 the church of the western portion of the empire had, therefore, an authoritative collection of New Testament books, in the main like our own, to which to appeal. The East was not much behind. The formation of the canon was essentially a process of selection from the whole mass of Christian literature, made originally by no council, but by the force of Christian opinion — the criterion being that the books accepted were believed to be either the work of an Apostle or of the immediate disciple of an Apostle, and thus to rep- resent apostolic teaching. Thus out of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montanism came the Old Catholic Church, with its strong episcopal organ- ization, credal standard, and authoritative canon. It differed > Barn., 4. 2 pjiH 12. 3 Apology, 06, 67. ■• Ayer, pp. 117-120. THE GROWTH OF ROME 63 much from the Apostohc Church ; but it had preserved historic Christianity and carried it through a tremendous crisis. It may be doubted whether a less rigid organization than that developed in this momentous second half of the second cen- tury could have achieved as much. SECTION V. THE GROWING IMPORTANCE OF ROME The Roman Church had been of prominence since the time of Paul, To it that Apostle wrote his most noteworthy letter. At Rome Paul, and probably Peter, died. The church endured the severest of early persecutions under Nero, and survived in vigor. Situated in the capital of the empire, it early devel- oped a consciousness of strength and authority, which was doubtless increased by the fact that, by 100, it was, it would appear, the largest single congregation in Christendom. Even before the close of the first century Clement, writing anony- mously to the Corinthians in the name of the whole Roman congregation (93-97), spoke as for those who expected to be obeyed.^ The tone, if brotherly, was big-brotherly. This influence was increased by the well-known generosity of the Roman congregation.^ Ignatius addressed it as "having the presidency of love."^ The destruction of Jerusalem in the second Jewish war (135) ended any possible leadership of Chris- tianity that might there have been asserted. The successful resistance to Gnosticism and Montanism strengthened it; and it reaped in abundance the fruits of that struggle. There the creed was formulated, there the canon formed. Above all, it was advantaged by the appeal of the opponents of Gnosticism to the tradition of the Apostolic churches, for Rome was the only church in the western half of the empire with which Apostles had had anything to do. Irenseus of Lyons, writing about 185, represented the general Western feeling of his time, when be not only pictures the Roman Church as founded by Peter and Paul, but declares " it is a matter of necessity that ' every church should agree with this church." ^ It was leadi ership in the preservation of the apostolic faith, not judiciajl supremacy, that Ireneeus had in mind ; but with 3tich estimates 1 1 Clem., 59, 63. * Eusebius, Church History, 4 : 23" ; Ayer, p. 34. 'Romans. * Her^ies., 3:3^; Ayer, p. 113. 64 THE EASTER CONTROVERSY wide-spread, the door was open for a larger assertion of Roman authority. Rather late in developing the monarchical episco- pate, since Anicetus (154-165) seems to have been the first single head of the Roman Church, the prominence of its bishop grew rapidly in the Gnostic struggle, and with this growth came the first extensive assertion of the authority of the Roman bishop in the affairs of the church at large. While Rome was thus gaining in strength Asia Minor was relatively declining. At the beginning of the second century Asia Minor and the adjacent portion of Syria had been the most extensively Christianized sections of the empire. That was probably, also, true at the century's close. Ephesus and Antioch had been, and were still, great Christian centres. Asia Minor had resisted Gnosticism, but it had been torn by Montanism and other sources of controversy, though the Mon- tanists had been rejected. There is reason to think, however, that these disputes had borne hard on the united strength of its Christianity. The quarrel between Asia Minor and Rome arose over the time of the observance of Easter. While there is reason to suppose that Easter had been honored from early in Christian history, the first definite record of its celebration is in connection with a visit of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, to Anicetus, bishop of Rome, in 154 or 155. At that time the practice of Asia Minor, probably the more ancient, was to ob- serve Easter with the Lord's Supper on the evening of the fourteenth of the month Nisan, like the Jewish Passover, re- gardless of the day of the week on which it might fall. The Roman custom, and that of some parts of the East, was to hold the Easter feast always on Sunday. The question was, there- fore, should the day of the week or that of the month be the norm. Polycarp and Anicetus could not agree, but parted with mutual good-will, each adhering to his own practice.^ The problem was further complicated by a dispute, about 167, in Laodicea, in Asia Minor itself, as to the nature of the cele- bration on the fourteenth of Nisan, some holding that Christ died on the fourteenth, as the fourth Gospel intimates, and others placing His death, as do the other Gospels, on the fif- teenth. The latter treated the commemoration of the four- teenth of Nisan, therefore, as a Christian continuation of the Hebrew Passover. » Eusebius, Church History, 5 : 24i'. " ; Ayer, p. 164. THE EASTER CONTROVERSY 65 About 190 the problem became so acute that synods were held in Rome, Palestine, and elsewhere which decided in favor of the Roman practice. The churches of Asia Minor, led by Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, refused conformity. There- upon Victor, bishop of Rome (189-198), excommunicated the recalcitrant congregations. This high-handed action met with much protest, notably from Irenseus of Lyons, but it was a marked assertion of Roman authority.^ These embittered controversies were costly to Asia Minor, and any possible rivalry on equal terms of Ephesus and Rome was out of the question. The collapse of Jewish Christian leadership, the apparent lack at Antioch of men of eminence in the second century, and the decline of the influence of Asia Minor left Rome, by 200, the most eminent and influential centre of Christianity — a position of which the Roman bishops had the will and the ability to make full use. The rise of Alexandria and of Carthage to importance in the Christian thought and life of the third century could not rob Rome of its leadership. Their attainment of Christian significance was far younger than that of the capital of the empire. SECTION VI. IREN^US The earliest theological leader of distinction in the rising Old Catholic Church was Irenseus. His argument in defense of traditional Christianity against Gnosticism has already been outlined.^ Born in Asia Minor, he w^as brought up in Smyrna, where he saw and heard Poly carp. The date of his birth has been most variously placed by modern scholars from about 115 to about 142, chiefly in the light of its possible bearing on traditions as to the authorship of the fourth Gospel. The later part of the period indicated has more probability than the earlier. From Asia Minor he removed to Lyons in what is now France, where he became a presbyter. The great perse- cution of 177, at Lyons, found him, fortunately, on an honor- able mission to Rome; and, on his return, he was chosen bishop of Lyons, in succession to the martyred Pothinus. That post he continued to hold till his death (c. 200). Not far from 185 he wrote his chief work. Against Heresies, primarily ^ Eusebius, Church History, 5 : 23, 24 ; Ayer, pp. 161-165. 2 Ante, p. 60. 66 IREN^US to refute the various Gnostic schools, but incidentally reveal- ing his own theology. Brought up in the tradition of Asia Minor and spending his later life in Gaul, Irenaeus was a connecting-link not merely between distant portions of the empire, but between the older theology of the Johannine and Ignatian literature and the newer "presentations which the Apologists and the "Catholic" movement of his own day were introducing. A man of deeply religious spirit, his interest was in salvation. In its explica- tion he developed the Pauline and Ignatian conceptions of Christ as the new man, the renewer of humanity, the second Adam. God created the first Adam, He made him good and immortal; but both goodness and immortality were lost by Adam's disobedience. What man lost in Adam is restored in Christ, the incarnate Logos, who now completes the interrupted work. " I have shown that the Son of God did not then begin to exist [i. e. at Jesus' birth], being with the Father from the beginning; but when He became incarnate and was made man. He commenced afresh the long line of human beings, and furnished us, in a brief, comprehensive manner, with salvation ; so that what we had lost in Adam — namely to be according to the image and likeness of God — that we might recover in Christ Jesus." ^ The work of Christ, thus described, Irenaeus char- acterizes in a noble phrase. We follow "the only true and steadfast Teacher, the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who did through His transcendent love become what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is Himself." ^ Christ is also the full revelation of God.^ Our union with Him, fol- lowing the teaching of Asia Minor and of Justin, Irenaeus views as in some sense physical, through the Supper.'* Irenseus's theory of Christ's new headship of humanity had added to it a suggestion pf His mother as the second Eve. "The knot of Eve's disobedience was loosened by the obedience of Mary. For what the Virgin Eve had bound fast through unbelief, this did the Virgin Mary set free through faith." ^ In this curious ascription is one of the earliest evidences of that exalta- tion of the Virgin which was to play so large a part in Christian history. In some ways, even for his time, Irenaeus was an old-fashioned man. The belief in Christ's speedy second com- 1 Heresies, 3 : 18' ; Ayer, pp. 137, 138. ^ Heresies, 5 ; Preface. 3 Ibid., 4 : 20^ " Ibid., 4 : 18!^ ; Ayer, p. 138. <> Ibid., 3 : 22^. TERTULLIAN'S LIFE AND WRITINGS 67 ing had been growing faint, and the contest with Montanism was to extinguish it almost entirely With Irenseus it still burned brightly, and he looked eagerly for the time when the earth would be marvellously renewed.^ For Irenseus the New Testament is as fully sacred Scripture as the Old. SECTION VII. TERTULLIAN AND CYPRIAN TertuUian was one of the most individual and remarkable personalities of the ancient church. Born (c. 150-155) of well-to-do heathen parentage in Carthage, he studied law and practised his profession in Rome. He was exceedingly well read in philosophy and history. Greek he had thoroughly mastered. About 190 to 195, he was converted to Christianity, probably in Rome, and now devoted himself with equal eager- ness to the study of Christian literature, orthodox and heretical. Shortly after he returned to Carthage where he became a presbyter, and remained till his death (c. 222-225). At first in fellowship with the Roman Church, a wave of persecution that broke over North Africa in 202 under the Emperor Sep- timius Severus (193-211), strengthened his native Puritanism and brought him into sympathy with Montanism. Its ascetic and unworldly aspects most appealed to him. About 207 he broke with the "Catholic" Church, which he thenceforth bit- terly criticised, and died in continuing protest, apparently, as the founder of a little sect of his own. In 197 TertuUian began a career of literary activity in de- fense and exphcation of Christianity which lasted till 220. He was the first ecclesiastical writer of prominence to use Latin. Even the leaders of the Roman Church wrote in Greek till after his time. His style was vivid, satirical, readable. His method was often that of an advocate in the court-room. He was frequently unfair to opponents. He was not always con- sistent with himself. But he was of a fiery earnestness of spirit that makes what he wrote always impressive. He well deserves the title of father of Latin theology. TertuUian was, primarily, no speculative theologian. His own thought was based on that of the Apologists, Irenseus, and to some extent on other bearers of the tradition of Asia Minor, and quite as much on Stoic teaching and legal conceptions. 1 Ibid.. 5 : 333 ; Ayer, p. 26. 68 TERTULLIAN'S THEOLOGY He had the Roman sense of order and authority. All that he touched, however, he formulated with the clearness of defini- tion of a trained judicial mind, and hence he gave precision, as none had before him, to many theological conceptions that had heretofore been vaguely apprehended. For Tertnllian Christianity was a great divine foolishness, wiser than the highest philosophical wisdom of men, and in no way to be squared with existing philosophical systems.^ In reality he looked upon it largely through Stoic spectacles. Christianity is primarily knowledge of God. It is based on reason — "the soul by nature Christian"^ — and authority. That authority is seated in the church, and only in the ortho- dox church, which alone has the truth, expressed in the creed, and alone has a right to use the Scriptures.^ As with Irenaeus, these valid churches are those that agree in faith with those founded by the Apostles, wherein the apostolic tradition has been maintained by the succession of bishops.^ These are utterances of the still "Catholic" Tertullian. As with Justin and common Gentile Christianity of the second century, Christianity for Tertullian is a new law. "Jesus Christ . . . preached the new law and the new promises of the kingdom of heaven."^ Admission to the church is by baptism, by which previous sins are removed. It is "our sacrament of water, in that by washing away the sins of our early blindness we are set free into eternal life."^ Those who have received it are thence- forth "competitors for salvation in earning the favor of God."^ Tertullian had a deeper sense of sin than any Christian writer since Paul, and his teachings greatly aided the develop- ment of the Latin conceptions of sin and grace. Though not clearly worked out, and inconsistent with occasional expres- sions, Tertullian possessed a doctrine of original sin. "There is, then, besides the evil which supervenes on the soul from the intervention of the evil spirit, an antecedent, and in a certain sense natural evil, which arises from its corrupt origin." ^ But "the power of the grace of God is more potent indeed than nature." ^ The nature of grace he nowhere fully explains. It evidently included, however, not only " forgiveness of sins," ^° ^Prescription, 7. ^Apology, 17. ^Prescription, 13-19. * Ibid., 32. ^ Ibid., r.i. ^Baptism,!. ''Repentance, 6. ^ Aninia, 41. ^ Ibid., 21. ^"Baptism, 10. TERTULLIAN'S CHRISTOLOGY 69 but also "the grace of divine inspiration," by which power to do right is infused to give force to man's feeble, but free, will.* Loofs has shown that this latter conception, of the utmost significance for the theology of Western Christendom, is of Stoic origin." But though salvation is thus based on grace, man has much to do. Though God forgives previous sins at baptism, satisfaction must be made for those committed there- after by voluntary sacrifices, chiefly ascetic. The more a man punishes himself, the less God will punish him.^ Tertullian's most influential work was the definition of the Logos Christology, though he preferred to use the designa- tion Son rather than Logos. If he advanced its content lit- tle beyond what had already been presented by the theolo- gians of Asia Minor, and especially by the Apologists, his legal mind gave a clearness to its explanation such as had not be- fore existed. Here his chief work was one written in his Mon- tanist period — Agahist Praxeas. He defines the Godhead in terms which almost anticipate the Nicene result of more than a century later. "All are of one, by unity of substance; while the mystery of the dispensation is still guarded which distributes the unity into a Trinity, placing in their order the three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit ; three, however . . . not in substance but in form; not in power but in appearance, for they are of one substance and one essence and one power, inasmuch as He is one God from whom these degrees and forms and aspects are reckoned un- der the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."* He describes these distinctions of the Godhead as "persons,"^ meaning by the word not our usage in the sense of personalities, but forms of manifestation. This unity of substance in Tertullian's thought is material, for he was suffi- ciently a Stoic to hold that " God is a body ... for spirit has a bodily substance of its own kind."^ With a similar precision, Tertullian distinguished between the human and divine in Christ. "We see His double state, not intermixed but con- joined in one person, Jesus, God and man." ^ Since both Son and Spirit are derived from the Father by emanation, both are ^ Patience, 1. ' Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte, p. 164. ' Repentance, 2, 9. * Praxeas, 2. ^ Ibid., 12. « Ibid., 7. ^ Ibid., 27. 70 CYPRIAN'S DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH subordinate t(3 Him.* This doctrine of subordination, already taught in the Apologists, was to remain characteristic of the Logos Christology till the time of Augustine. These definitions were far more the work of a lawyer-like, judicial interpreta- tion, than of philosophical consideration. As the first, also, to give technical usage to such expressions as trinitas, sub- stantia, sacramentum, satisfacere, meritum, TertuUian left his permanent impress on Latin theology. Cyprian was, in many ways, the intellectual heir of Tertul- lian, whom he called master. Born probably in Carthage, about 200, he spent all his life in that city. A man of wealth and education, he won distinction as a teacher of rhetoric. About 246 he was converted to the Christian faith, and two or three years later was chosen to the bishopric of Carthage. Here he showed high executive ability, and much practical good sense and kindliness of spirit without the touch of genius that characterized TertuUian. The persecution of 250 he escaped by flight ; but in that of 258 he stood boldly forth and suffered as a martyr by beheading. Few leaders of the ancient church have been more highly regarded by subsequent ages. << i In Cyprian's teaching the tendencies illustrated in the de- velopment of the "Catholic" Church received their full expres- sion. The church is the one visible orthodox community of Christians. "There is one God, and Christ is one, and there is one church, and one chair (episcopate) founded upon the rock by the word of the Lord." ^ "Whoever he may be and whatever he may be, he who is not in the church of Christ is not a Christian." ^ " He can no longer have God for his Father, who has not the church for his mother." ^ "There is no sal- vation out of the church." ^ The church is based on the unity of its bishops, "whence ye ought to know that the bishop is in the church and the church in the bishop ; and if any one be not with the bishop, that he is not in the church." ^ "The episcopate is one, each part of which is held by each one in its entirety." ^ This last quotation has its bearing on a con- troversy still alive as to whether Cyprian regarded all bishops as equal sharers in a common episcopal authority, the posses- sion of each and of all ; or held to the superiority of the bishop 1 Praxeas, 7, 9. 2 Letters, 39-435. ^ md., 51-552^ * Unity of the Church, 6. * Letters, 72-7321. « /fej^/.^ 68-66*. ^ Unity of the Church, 5 ; Ayer, p. 242. RENEWED CHRISTOLOGICAL DISCUSSIONS 71 of Rome. He certainly quoted Matt. 16^^' ^^} He looked upon Peter as the typical bishop. He referred to Rome as " the chief church whence priestly unity takes its source." ^ Rome was to him evidently the highest church in dignity ; but Cyprian was not ready to admit a judicial authority over others in the Roman bishop, or to regard him as more than the first among equals. Cyprian's significance as a witness to the full development of the doctrine that the Lord's Supper is a sacrifice offered by the priest to God will be considered in Section XIV. His concep- tion of the Christian life, like that of Tertullian, was ascetic. Martyrdom is bringing forth fruit an hundredfold ; voluntary celibacy, sixtyfold.^ SECTION VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY IN THE WEST Though the "Catholic" Church was combating successfully the Gnostics, and though the Logos Christology was that of such formative minds as those of the writer of the fourth Gospel, Justin, Irenseus, and Tertullian, that Christology was not wholly regarded with sympathy by the rank and file of believers. Hermas had taught an adoptionist Christology at Rome as late as 140. The Apostles' Creed has no reference to any Logos doctrine. Tertullian says significantly of his own time (213-218) : "The simple — I will not call them unwise or unlearned — who always constitute the majority of believers, are startled at the dispensation of the three in one, on the ground that their very rule of faith withdraws them from the world's plurality of gods to the one only true God." * It was diflBcult for them to see in trinitarian conceptions aught else but an assertion of tritheism. The last decade of the second and the first two of the third centuries were an important epoch, therefore, in Christological discussion, especially in Rome, where the question was in the balance. To some extent this new Christological discussion seems to have been the indirect result of Montanism. That movement had made much of the fourth Gospel, proclaiming itself the in- auguration of the dispensation of the Spirit, therein promised. Some opponents of Montanism in Asia Minor, in their reaction 1 E. g., Unity of the Church, 4. ^ Letters, 54-59i*. 8 Ibid., 76«. < Praxeas, 3. 72 THE DYNAMIC .AIOXARCHIAXS from its teachings, went so far as to reject the fourth Gospel and its doctrine of the Logos. Of these "Alogoi," as Epiph- anius (?-403), writing much later, nicknamed them, little is known in detail, but some of the critics of the Logos Christology who now came into prominence were apparently injSuenced by them. To these opponents in general the name Monarchians is usually given — a title coined by Tertullian^ — since they as- serted the unity of God. The Monarchians fell into two very imlike classes, those who held that Jesus was the Son of God by adoption, the so-called Dynamic Monarchians; and those who held that Christ was but a temporary form of manifesta- tion of the one God, the party known as the Modalistic Mo- narchians. Thus, with the supporters of the Logos view, three Christologies were contesting m Rome at the beginning of the third century. The first Dynamic Monarchian of prominence was Theodotus, called the currier, or tanner, from Byzantium. He was a man of learning, and is said to have been a disciple of the Alogoi, though, unlike them, he accepted in some sense the fourth Gospel. About 190 he came to Rome, and there taught that Jesus was a man, born of the Virgin, of holy life, upon whom the divine Christ (or the Holy Spirit) descended at His baptism. Some of Theodotus's followers denied to Jesus any title to divinity ; but others held that He became in some sense divine at His resurrection.^ One is reminded of the Christology of Hermas (Ante, p. 39). Theodotus was excommunicated by Bishop Vic- tor of Rome (189-198) ; but his work there was continued by Theodotus, "the money-changer," and Asclepiodorus, like their master, probably from the Orient ; but their effort to found a rival communion outside the "Catholic" Church amounted to little. The last attempt to present a similar theology in Rome was that of a certain Artemon (230-40-270), but Dynamic Monarchianism in the West was already moribund. Yet it undoubtedly represented a type of Christology that was one of the oldest in the Christian Church. The Dynamic Monarchian party was stronger and more persistent in the East. There it had its most famous represen- tative in Paul of Samosata, the able and politically gifted bishop of Antioch from c. 260 to 272. He represented the 1 Praxeas, 3, 10. » Hippolytus, Refutation, 7", 10»9; Ayer, p. 172. THE MODALISTIC MONARCHIANS 73 Logos, which he also described as the Son of God, as an imper- sonal attribute of the Father. This Logos had inspired Moses and the prophets. Jesus was a man, unique in that He was born of the Virgin, who was filled with the power of God, i. e., by God's Logos. By this indwelling inspiration Jesus was united in will by love to God, but did not become in substance one with God. That union is moral, but inseparable. By reason of it Christ was raised from the dead, and given a kind of dele- gated divinity. Between 264 and 269 three synods considered Paul of Samosata's views, by the last of which he was excom- municated ; but he kept his place till driven out by the Em- peror Aurelian (p. 106). Much more numerous than the Dynamic Monarchians were the Modalistic Monarchians, who made an appeal to the many for the reason already quoted from Tertullian {ante, p. 71), that in the presence of heathen polytheism, the unity of God seemed a prime article of the Christian faith, and any Logos concep- tion or Dynamic Monarchianism seemed to them a denial of that unity. Cyprian coined for these INIodalistic Monarchians the nickname Patripassians.^ The leader of Modalistic Mo- narchianism was, like that of Dynamic Monarchianism, an Oriental Christian, Noetus, probably of Smyrna. The same controversies in Asia Minor may well have called forth both in- terpretations. Of Noetus little is known save that he taught in his native region in the period 180 to 200, "that Christ was the Father Himself, and that the Father Himself was born and suffered and died." ^ These views were transplanted to Rome, about 190, by a certain Praxeas, a follower of Noetus and an opponent of the Montanists, regarding whom Tertullian, then a Montanist and always a defender of the Logos Christology, said : " Praxeas did two works of the devil in Rome. He drove out prophecy and introduced heresy. He put to flight the Holy Spirit and crucified the Father." ^ A little later two other disciples of Noetus, Epigonus and Cleomenes, came to Rome and won, in large measure, the sympathy of Bishop Zephyrinus (198-217) for the Modalistic Monarchian position. The most noted leader of the Modalistic school, whose name became permanently associated with this Christology, was Sa- 1 Letters, 72-73^ ^ Hippolytus, Against Noetus, 1 ; Aj^er, p. 177. ^ Praxeas, 1 ; Ayer, p. 179. 74 SABELLIUS AND HIPPOLYTUS belllus, of whose early life little is known, but who was teaching in Rome about 215. His theology was essentially that of Noe- tus, but much more carefully wrought out, especially in that it gave a definite place to the Holy Spirit as well as to the Son. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all one and the same. Each is a prosopon — Tr/joVwTroy — (a word of large later ortho- dox use), that is a character or form of manifestation, of the one God, who showed Himself in His character of creator as the Father, in that of redeemer as the Son, and now as the Holy Spirit. Sabellius, though soon excommunicated at Rome, found large following for his views in the East, especially in Egypt and Libya. Nor was he without considerable influence on the development of what became the orthodox Christology. His absolute identification of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit was rejected ; but it implied an equality which ultimately, as in Augustine, triumphed over the subordination of Son and Spirit characteristic of the Logos Christology both of Tertullian and Athanasius. The great advocate of the Logos Christology at this juncture in Rome was Hippolytus (160-170 — c. 235), the most learned Christian writer then in the city, and the last considerable theologian there to use Greek rather than Latin as his vehicle of expression. As a commentator, chronicler, calculator of Easter dates, Apologist, and opponent of heretics, he was held in such high repute that his followers erected after his death the earliest Christian portrait statue known. He opposed vigorously the Monarchians of both schools. The fight in Rome waxed hot. Bishop Zephyrinus (198-217) hardly knew what to do, though he leaned toward the Monarchian side. On his death he was succeeded by Kallistos (Calixtus, 217-222), the most energetic and assertive bishop that Rome had yet seen — a man who had been born a slave, had engaged unsuc- cessfully in banking, and had, for a time, been a sufferer for his Christian faith in the mines of Sardinia. Over Zephyrinus he acquired great influence, and on his own attainment of the bishopric, issued in his own name certain regulations as to the readmission to the church of those repentant of sins of licen- tiousness, which show higher ecclesiastical claims than any here- tofore advanced by a Roman bishop (see p. 101). Kallistos saw that these disputes were hurting the Roman Church. He there- fore excommunicated Sabellius (c. 217), and charged Hippol}i;us VICTORY OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY 75 with being a worshipper of two gods.^ HIppolytus now broke with Kallistos, on this ground and on questions regarding dis- cipline, and became the head of a rival communion in Rome — the first "counter-pope" — a position which he maintained till his banishment in the persecution of 235. Kalhstos tried to find a compromise formula in this Chris- tological confusion. Father, Son and Logos, he held, are all names of "one indivisible spirit." Yet Son is also the proper designation of that which was visible, Jesus ; while the Father was the spirit in Him. This presence of the Father in Jesus is the Logos. Kallistos was positive that the Father did not sufiFer on the cross, but suffered with the sufferings of the Son, Jesus; yet the Father "after He had taken unto Himself our flesh, raised it to the nature of deity, by bringing it into union with Himself, and made it one, so that Father and Son must be styled one God."^ This is, indeed, far from logical or clear. One cannot blame Hippolytus or Sabellius for not liking it. Yet it was a compromise which recognized a pre-existent Logos in Christ, even if it identified that Logos with the Father; it insisted on the identity of that which indwelt Jesus with God ; and it claimed a human Jesus, raised to divinity by the Father, and made one with Him, thus really showing a distinc- tion between the Father and the Son, while denying in words that one exists. This compromise won the majority in Rome, and opened the door for the full victory of the Logos Chris- tology there. That victory was determined by the able ex- position of that Christology which came at the turning-point in this conflict (213-218) from the pen of Tertullian of Car- thage — Against Praxeas (see ante, p. 69), with its clear defini- tions of a Trinity in three persons and of a distmction between the divine and human in Christ. How completely this Christology won its way in Western Christendom is shown by the treatise on the Trinity, written by the Roman presbyter, Novatian, between 240 and 250. That eminent scholar was the first in the local Roman communion to use Latin rather than Greek. His quarrel with the dominant party in the church will be described later (p. 102). Novatian did little more than reproduce and expand Tertullian's views. But it is important that he treated this exposition as the only *tormal and legitimate interpretation of the "rule of truth" — the ^ Hippolytus, Refutation, 9^ ^ Ibid., 9L 76 VICTORY OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY "Apostles' Creed." That symbol had been silent regarding the Logos Christology. To Novatian the Logos Christology is its only proper meaning. Between Father and Son a "communion of substance" exists,^ The Latin equivalent of the later famous Nicene Homoousion — ofioovaiov — was therefore current in Rome before 250. Novatian has even a social Trinity. Comment- ing on John 10^°, "I and the Father are one," he declares that Christ "said one thing (unum). Let the heretics understand that He did not say one person. For one placed in the neuter intimates the social concord, not the personal unity." ^ The most valuable thing in Novatian is that he emphasized what was the heart of the conviction of the church in all this involved Christological controversy, that Christ was fully God and equally fully man.^ Finally, about 262, the Roman bishop, Dionysius (259-268), writing against the Sabellians, expressed the Logos Christology in terms more nearly approximating to what was to be the Nicene decision of 325 than any other third- century theologian.^ Thus the West had reached conclusions readily harmonizable with the result at Nicsea, more than sixty years before that great council. The East had attained no such uniformity. SECTION IX. THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL Alexandria was, for more than six centuries, the second city of the ancient world, surpassed only by Rome, and later by Con- stantinople, in importance. Founded by Alexander the Great in B. C. 332, it was primarily a trading community, and as such, attracted numbers of Greeks and Jews. Its intellectual life was no less remarkable. Its library was the most famous in the empire. In its streets East and West met. There Greek philosophy entered into association, or competed in rivalry, with Judaism and many other Oriental cults, while the influence of ancient Egyptian thought persisted. It was the most cosmopolitan city of the ancient world. There the Old Testa- ment was translated into Greek, and there Philo reinterpreted Judaism in terms of Hellenic philosophy. There Neo-Platonism was to arise in the third century of our era. Of the introduc- tion of Christianity into Alexandria, or into Egypt generally, >Trim<2/, 31. ^ Ibid., 27. ^ Ibid., 11, 24. * In Athanasius, De Decretis, 26. THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL 77 nothing is known, but it must have been early, since when the veil of silence was lifted Christianity was evidently strongly rooted there. The Gnostic, Basilides, taught in Alexandria in the reign of Hadrian (117-138). There the various philosoph- ical systems had their "schools," where instruction could be obtained by all inquirers, and it was but natural that Christian teachers should imitate this good example, though it would appear that the beginnings of this work were independent of the Alexandrian Church authorities. By about 185 a famous catechetical school existed in Alex- andria, then under the leadership of a converted Stoic phi- losopher, Pantsenus. Whether it originated with him, or what his own theological position may have been, it is impossible to determine. With Clement of Alexandria (?-c. 215), Pan- tsenus's pupil and successor, it comes into the light. The course of religious development in Alexandria had evidently differed from that in Asia Minor and the West. In the latter regions the contest with Gnosticism had bred a distrust of philosophy such that Tertullian could declare that there was no possible connection between it and Christianity. That contest had, also, immensely strengthened the appeal to apos- tolical tradition and consolidated organization. In Alexandria these characteristics of the "Old Catholic" Church had not so fully 'developed, while philosophy was regarded not as incon- sistent with Christianity, but as its handmaid. Here a union of what was best in ancient philosophy, chiefly Platonism and Stoicism, was effected to a degree nowhere else realized in orthodox circles, and the result was a Christian Gnosticism. Clement of Alexandria was typical of this movement. At the same time he was a presbyter in the Alexandrian Church, thus serving as a connecting-link between the church and the school. The more important of the works of Clement which have survived are three : his Exhortation to the Heathen, an apologetic treatise, giving incidentally no little information as to the mystery religions; his Instructor, the first treatise on Chris- tian conduct, and an invaluable mine of information as to the customs of the age ; and his Stromata, or Miscellanies, a collec- tion of profound thoughts on religion and theology, arranged without much regard to system. Throughout he shows the mind of a highly trained and widely read thinker. Clement would interpret Christianity as Philo did Judaism, by phi- 78 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA losophj'', Into scientific dogmatics. To him, as to Justin, whom he far surpassed in clearness of intellectual grasp, the divine Logos has always been the source of all the intelligence and morality of the human race — the teacher of mankind every- where. "Our instructor is the holy God, Jesus, the Word who is the guide of all humanity," ^ He was the source of all true philosophy. " God is the cause of all good things ; but of some primarily, as of the Old and the New Testament ; and of others by consequence, as of philosophy. Perchance, too, philosophy was given to the Greeks directly and primarily, till the Lord should call the Greeks. For this was a schoolmaster to bring the Hellenic mind, as the law the Hebrews, to Christ." ^ This training of humanity' by the Logos has been, therefore, a progressive education. So it is, also, in the church. " Faith," that is simple, traditional Christianity, is enough for salvation ; but the man who adds to his faith "knowledge," has a higher possession.^ He is the true, Christian Gnostic. "To him that hath shall be given ; to faith, knowledge ; to knowledge, love ; and to love, the inheritance." ^ The highest good to which knowledge leads — a good even greater than the salvation which it necessarily involves — is the knowledge of God. "Could we then suppose any one proposing to the Gnostic whether he would choose the knowledge of God or everlasting salvation; and if these, which are entirely identical, were separable, he would without the least hesitation choose the knowledge of God." ^ That highest good brings with it an almost Stoic absence of feeling, either of pleasure or of pain — a condition of blessedness in which Clement believes Christ stood, and to which the Apostles attained through His teaching,^ One can readily comprehend that Clement, like Justin, had no real interest in the earthly life of Jesus. The Logos then became incarnate, indeed, but Clement's view of Christ's life is almost Docetic, certainly more so than that of any teacher of orthodox standing in the church of his own day. Clement wrought out no complete theological system. That was to be the task of his even more celebrated pupil and successor in the headship of the Alexandrian catechetical school — Origen. Born of Christian parentage, probably in Alexandria, between 182 and 185, Origen grew up there into a ^Instructor, V. ^ Stromata, P; Ayer, p. 190. ^ Ibid., 1'. * Ibid., 7'«. ^ Ibid., 4". e jt^i^l., 6'. ORIGEN'S LIFE 79 familiarity with the Scriptures that was to render him the most fully acquainted with the Bible of any of the writers in the early church. His study of philosophy must also have been early begun. A youth of intense feeling and eager mental curiosity, he was as remarkable for his precocity as for the later ripeness of his scholarship. The persecution under Sep- timius Severus, in 202, cost the life of Origen's father, and he would have shared the same fate had not his mother frus- trated his wishes by a stratagem. This persecution had driven Origen's teacher, Clement, from the city; and now, in 203, in spite of his youth, he gathered round himself inquirers with whom he reconstituted the catechetical school. This position he held with great success and with the approval of Bishop Demetrius, till 215, when the Emperor Caracalla drove all teachers of philosophy from Alexandria. His instruction had before been interrupted by visits to Rome (c. 211-212), where he met Hippolytus, and to Arabia (c. 213-214). His manner of life was ascetic in the extreme, and to avoid slander arising out of his relations with his numerous inquirers he emasculated himself, taking Matt. 19^- as a counsel of perfection. The year 215 saw Origen in Caesarea in Palestine, where he made friends of permanent value. Permitted to return to Alexandria, proba- bly in 216, he resumed his instruction, and began a period of scholarly productivity the results of which were little short of marvellous. Origen's labors in Alexandria were broken by a journey to Greece and Palestine in 230 or 231. He was still a layman; but, by friendly Palestinian bishops he was ordained a presby- ter, in Caesarea, probably that he might be free to preach. This ordination of an Alexandrian layman, Bishop Demetrius of Alexandria not unnaturally viewed as an intrusion on his jurisdiction, and jealousy of the successful teacher may have added to his resentment. At all events, Demetrius held synods by which Origen was banished from Alexandria, and as far as was in their power, deposed from the ministry. He now found a congenial home in friendly Caesarea. Here he con- tinued his indefatigable studies, his teaching, and to them he added frequent preaching. He made occasional journeys. He was surrounded by friends who held him in the highest esteem. With the great Decian persecution (see p. 86) of 250, this period of peace ended. He was imprisoned and tortured, and died either 80 ORIGEX'S THEOLOGY in Csesarea or Tyre, probably in 251 (254?) as a consequence of the cruelties he had undergone. No man of purer spirit or nobler aims ornaments the history of the ancient church. Origen was a man of many-sided scholarship. The field to which he devoted most attention was that of Biblical text- criticism and exegesis. Here his chief productions were his monumental Hexapla, giving the Hebrew and four parallel Greek translations of the Old Testament; and a long series of commentaries and briefer notes treating nearly the entire range of Scripture. It w^as the most valuable work that had yet been done by any Christian scholar. In the field of the- ology his De Principiu, written before 231, was not merely the first great systematic presentation of Christianity, but its thoughts and methods thenceforth controlled Greek dogmatic development. His Against Celsus, written between 246 and 248, in reply to the ablest criticism of Christianity that heathen- ism had produced — that of the Platonist Celsus (c. 177) — was the keenest and most convincing defense of the Christian faith that the ancient world brought forth, and one fully worthy of the greatness of the controversy. Besides these monumental undertakings he found time for the discussion of practical Christian themes, such as prayer and martyrdom, and for the preparation of many sermons. His was indeed a life of un- wearied industry. In Origen the process was complete which had long been interpreting Christian truths in terms of Hellenic thinking. He gave to the Christian system the fullest scientific standing, as tested by the science of that age, which was almost entirely comprised in philosophy and ethics. His philosophic stand- point was essentially Platonic and Stoic, with a decided leaning toward positions similar to those of the rising Neo-Platonism, the lectures of whose founder, Ammonius Saccas, he is said to have heard. ^ These philosophic principles he sought to bring into harmony with the Scriptures, as his great Hebrew fellow townsman, Philo, had done, by allegorical interpretation of the Bible. All normal Scripture, he held, has a threefold meaning. "The simple man may be edified by the 'flesh' as it were of the Scriptures, for so we name the obvious sense ; while he who has ascended a certain way may be edified by the ' soul ' as it were ; the perfect man . . . may receive edifi- 1 Eusebius, Church History, 6 : 19't ORIGExN'S THEOLOGY 81 cation from the spiritual law, which has a shadow of good things to come. For as man consists of body and soul and spirit, so in the same way does Scripture."^ This allegorical system enabled Origen to read practically what he wished into the Scriptures. As a necessary foundation for his theological system, Origen posited that "which differs in no respect from ecclesiastical and apostolical tradition." ^ These fundamentals of tradi- tional Christianity include belief (1) "in one God . . . the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, [who] Himself gave the law and the prophets and the Gospels, being also the God of the Apostles and of the Old and New Testaments" ; (2) "that Jesus Christ Himself , . . was born of the Father before all creatures . . . became a man, and was incarnate although God, and while made a man remained the God which He was . . . was born of a Virgin . . . was truly born and did truly suffer and . . . did truly die . . . did truly rise from the dead "; (3) " that the Holy Spirit was associated in honor and dignity with the Father and the Son " ; (4) in the resurrection and in future re- wards and punishments ; (5) in free will ; (6) in the existence and opposition of the devil and his angels ; (7) that the world was made in time and will "be destroyed on account of its wickedness" ; (8) "that the Scriptures were written by the Spirit of God"; (9) "that there are certain angels of God, and cer- tain good influences which are His servants in accomplishing the salvation of men." ^ These are essential beliefs for all Chris- tians, learned and unlearned, as taught by the church; and on them Origen proceeded to erect his mighty fabric of systematic theology — that explanation of Christianity for him who would add to his faith knowledge. Origen's conception of the universe was strongly Platonic. The real world is the spiritual reality behind this temporary, phenomenal, visible world. In that world great transactions have had their place. There, as with Plato, our spirits existed. There sin first entered. There we fell, and thither the redeemed will return. God, the uncreated, perfect Spirit, is the source of all. From Him the Son is eternally generated. " His generation is as eternal and everlasting as the brilliancy which is produced from the sun." * Yet Christ is "a second God." ^ a "crea- * De Principiis, 4: l'»; Ayer, pp. 200, 201. ^ /)g Principiis, Preface. » All ibid. * De Principiis, 1 : 2^ ^ Celsus, 5", 82 ORIGEN'S THEOLOGY ture." Christ's position, as Loofs has pointed out, was viewed by Origen as the same as that of the nous — mind, thought — in the Neo-Platonic system. He is the "mediator" between God and His world of creatures, the being through whom they were made. Highest of these creatures is the Holy Spirit, whom Origen reckons to the Godhead, by reason of churchly tradi- tion, but for whom he has no real necessity in his system. All spiritual beings, including the spirits of men, were made by God, through the Son, in the true spiritual world. "He had no other reason for creating them than on account of Himself, i. e. His own goodness." ^ All were good, though their goodness, unlike that of God, was "an accidental and perisha- ble quality."^ All had free will. Hence some fell by sin in the invisible spiritual world. It was as a place of punishment and of reform that God created this visible universe, placing fallen spirits therein in proportion to the heinousness of their sins. The least sinful are angels and have as bodies the stars. Those of greater sinfulness are on the face of the earth, with animal souls, also, and mortal bodies. They constitute man- kind. The worst are the demons, led by the devil himself. Salvation was wrought by the Logos-Son becoming man, by uniting with a human soul that had not sinned in its previous existence and a pure body. While here Christ was God and man ; but at the resurrection and ascension Christ's humanity was given the glory of His divinity, and is no longer human but divine.^ That transformation Christ effects for all His disciple i. "From Him there began the union of the divine with the human nature, in order that the human, by commu- nion with the divine, might rise to be divine, not in Jesus alone, but in all those who not only believe but enter upon the life which Jesus taught." ^ Origen, more than any theologian since Paul, emphasized the sacrificial character of Christ's death ; but he interpreted it in many ways, some of which were not very consistent with others. Christ suffered what was "for the good of the human race" as a representative and an exam- ple.^ He was in some sense a propitiatory offering to God. He was a ransom paid to the powers of evil.'^ He conquered the demons.^ He frustrated their expectation that they could hold 1 De Prindpns, 2 : 9«. "■' Ibid., 1 : G^. 3 Celsus, 3". * Ibid., 3". ^ Ibid , 7" ; Ayer, p. 197. *Cam. on Matt., 12", l(j«; Ayer, p. 197. ' Com. on John, 6". ORIGEN'S THEOLOGY 83 Him by the bonds of death and brought their kingdom to an end.^ Those of mankind who are His disciples are received at death into Paradise; the evil find their place in hell. Yet, ultimately, not only all men, but even the devil and all spirits with him will be saved. ^ This will be the restoration of all things, when God will be all in all. Origen's theological structure is the greatest intellectual achievement of the ante-Nicene Church. It influenced pro- foundly all after-thinking in the Orient. Yet it is easy to see how he could be quoted on either side in the later Christological controversies, and to understand, in the light of a later rigid or- thodoxy, how he came to be regarded as a heretic, whose views were condemned by a synod in his native Alexandria in 399 or 400, by the Emperor Justinian in 543, and by the Fifth General Council in 553. His work was professedly for the learned, not for the common Christian. Because its science is not our sci- ence it seems strange to us. But it gave to Christianity full scientific standing in that age. In particular, the teachings of Clement and Origen greatly advanced the dominance of the Logos Christology in the Orient, though Sabellianism was still wide-spread there, and an adoptionist Christology had an emi- nent representative in the bishop of Antioch, Paul of Samosata, as late as 272. Yet Origen was not without serious critics in the century in which he lived. Of these the most important, theologically, was Methodius, bishop of Olympus, in Lycia, who died about 31L Taking his stand on the tradition of Asia Minor, Metho- dius denied Origen's doctrines of the soul's pre-existence and imprisonment in this world, and affirmed the resurrection of the body. In ability he was not to be compared with Origen. SECTION X. CHURCH AND STATE FROM 180 TO 260 The visible decline of the Roman Empire is usually reckoned from the death of Marcus Aurelius (180), though its causes go back much further. Population was diminishing. Trade and industry were fettered by heavy taxation. The leadership passed more and more from the hands of the cultivated classes. The army was largely recruited from the outlying provinces of the empire, and even from tribes beyond its borders. From the i^ow. on Matt.. 13». « Z)e Principiis, 1 : 8' *; Ayer, p. 198 84 DECLINE OF EMPIRE, GROWTH OF CHURCH death of Commodus (192), it dictated the choice of Emperors, who, in general, were very far from representing the higher type of Grseco-Roman culture, as had the Antonines. The whole administrative machinery of the empire was increasingly inefficient, and the defense of its borders inadequate. From a military point of view, conditions grew steadily worse till the time of Aurelian (270-275), and were hardly securely bettered till that of Diocletian (284-305). In other respects no consid- erable pause was achieved in the decline. Yet this period was also one of increasing feeling of popular unity in the empire. The lines of distinction between the races were breaking down. In 212 the Roman citizenship was extended by Caracalla, not wholly from disinterested motives, to all free inhabitants of the empire. Above all, from a religious point of view, the close of the second and the whole of the third centuries were an age of syncretism, a period of deepening religious feeling, in which the mystery religions of the Orient — and Christianity also — made exceedingly rapid increase in the nuxuber of their ad- herents. This growth of the church was extensive as well as intensive. To near the close of the second century it had penetrated little beyond those whose ordinary tongue was Greek. By the dawn of the third century the church was rapidly advancing in Latin- speaking North Africa and, though more slowly, in Spain and Gaul, and reaching toward, if it had not already arrived in, Britain. In Egypt Christianity was now penetrating the native population, while by 190 it was well represented in Syriac- speaking Edessa. The church was also reaching more exten- sively than earlier into the higher classes of society. It was being better understood ; and though Tertullian shows that the old popular slanders of cannibalism and gross immorality were still prevalent in 197,^ as the third century went on they seem to have much decreased, doubtless through growing ac- quaintance with the real significance of Christianity. The relations of the state to the church during the period from 180 to 260 were most various, depending on the will of the several Emperors, but, on the whole, such as to aid rather than to hinder its growth till the last decade of this period. Legally, Christianity was condemned. It had no right to exist."'^ Practically, it enjoyed a considerable degree of tolera- » Apology, 7. ' Tertullian, Apology, 4. THE ATTITUDE OF THE EMPERORS 85 tion during most of this epoch. The persecution which had been begun under Marcus Aurelius continued into the reign of Commodus, but he soon neglected the church as he did about ev- erything else not connected with his own pleasures. This rest continued till well into the reign of Septimius Severus (193-211) ; but was broken in 202 by a persecution of considerable severity, especially in Carthage and Egypt. Under Caracalla (211-217), persecution again raged in North Africa. Elagabalus (218- 222), though an ardent supporter of sun-worship, was disposed to a syncretism which was not openly hostile to Christianity. Alexander Severus (222-235) was distinctly favorable. A syn- cretist who would unite many religions, he placed a bust of Christ in his private chapel along with images of leaders of other faiths; while his mother, Julia Mamaea, under whose in- fluence he stood, heard lectures by Origen. He even decided a dispute as to whether a piece of property in Rome should be used by its Christian claimants, doubtless as a place of worship, or by their opponents as a cook-shop, in favor of the Christians. A change of policy came under Maximinus (235-238), by whom an edict against the Christians was is- sued, which, though not extensively enforced, thrust both the "Catholic" bishop, Pontianus, and his schismatic rival Hip- polytus from Rome into the cruel slavery of the mines, w^here they soon lost their lives. In eastern Asia Minor and Palestine this persecution made itself felt. Under Gordian (238-244) and till near the end of the reign of Philip the Arabian (244- 249) the church had rest. For that new outbreak Philip was in no way responsible. Indeed, an erroneous rumor declared him to be secretly a Christian. The number of martyrs in these persecutions was not large, as Origen testified, writing between 246 and 248,^ and these outbreaks were local, if at times of considerable extent. Though Christians were deprived of all legal protection, the average believer must have thought that the condition of the church was approaching practical safety. This growing feeling of security was rudely dispelled. The year 248 saw the celebration of the thousandth anniversary of the founding of Rome. It was a time of revival of ancient traditions and of the memories of former splendors. The em- pire was never more threatened by barbarian attack or torn 1 Celsus, 38. 86 THE DECIAN PERSECUTION by Internal disputes. The populace attributed these troubles to the cessation of persecution.^ A fierce mob attack broke out in Alexandria before the death of Philip the Arabian. To the more observant heathens the growth of a rigidly organized church might well seem that of a state within the state, the more dangerous that Christians still largely refused army ser- vice or the duties of public office.^ Nearer at hand lay the plausible, though fallacious, argument that as Rome had grown great when the old gods were worshipped by all, so now their rejection by a portion of the population had cost Rome their aid, and had caused the calamities evident on every hand. This was apparently the feeling of the new Emperor, Decius (249-251), and of a conservative Roman noble. Valerian, with whom Decius was intimately associated. The result was the edict of 250, which Initiated the first universal and systematic persecution of Christianity. The Decian persecution was by far the worst trial that the church as a whole had undergone — the more severe because It had principle and determination behind It. The aim was not primarily to take life, though there were numerous and cruel martyrdoms, but rather to compel Christians by torture, im- prisonment, or fear to sacrifice to the old gods. Bishops Fa- bian of Rome and Babylas of Antioch died as martyrs. Orlgen and hosts of others were tortured. The number of these "con- fessors" was very great. So, also, was the number of the "lapsed" — that Is, of those who, through fear or torture, sac- rificed, burned incense, or procured certificates from friendly or venal officials that they had duly worshipped In the form prescribed by the state.^ Many of these lapsed, when the per- secution was over, returned to seek In bitter penitence read- mission to the church. The question of their treatment caused a long, enduring schism In Rome, and much trouble elsewhere (see p. 101). Fierce as It was, the persecution under Decius and Valerian was soon over; but only to be renewed In some- what milder form by Declus's successor, Gallus (251-253). In 253 Declus's old associate in persecution, Valerian, obtained possession of the empire (253-260). Though he at first left the Christians undisturbed, in 257 and 258 he renewed the at- tack with greater ferocity. Christian assemblies were forbid- 1 Origen, Celsus, S^^ ; Ayer, p. 206. ^ Origen, Celsua, 8"- ". ' Ayer, p. 210, for specimens. THE PERSECUTION OF VALERIAN 87 den; Christian churches and cemeteries confiscated; bishops, priests, and deacons ordered to be executed, and lay Chris- tians in high places disgraced, banished, and their goods held forfeited. Under this persecution Cyprian died in Carthage, Bishop Sixtus II and the Deacon Laurentius in Rome, and Bishop Fructuosus in Tarragona in Spain. It was a fearful pe- riod of trial, lasting, with intermissions indeed, from 250 to 259. In 260 Valerian became a prisoner in the hands of the vic- torious Persians. His son, associate Emperor and successor, Gallienus (260-268), a thoroughly weak and incompetent ruler, promptly gave up the struggle with Christianity. Church property was returned, and a degree of favor shown that has sometimes, though erroneously, been interpreted as a legal toleration. That the act of Gallienus was not. The old laws against Christianity were unrepealed. Practically, however, a peace began which was to last till the outbreak of the persecu- tion under Diocletian, in 303, though probably threatened by Aurelian just before his death in 275. The church had come out of the struggle stronger than ever before. SECTION XI. THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH The effect of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montanism upon the development of the bishoprics as centres of unity, witnesses to apostolical tradition, and bearers of an apostolical succession, has already been seen (Section IV), The tendencies then developed continued to work in increasing power, with the result that, between 200 and 260, the church as an or- ganization took on most of the constitutional features which were to characterize it throughout the period of the dominance of Graeco-Roman culture. Above all, this development was manifested in the increase of the power of the bishops. The circumstances of the time, the contests with Gnostics and Montanists, the leadership of increasing masses of ignorant recent converts from heathenism, the necessities of uniformity in worship and discipline, all tended to centralize in the bishop the rights and authority which, in the first half of the second century had been the possession of the Christian congregation as a whole. The "gifts of the Spirit," which had been very real to the thought of Christians of the apostolic and sub- 88 GROWING POWER OF THE BISHOPS apostolic ages, and which might be possessed by any one, were now a tradition rather than a vital reality. The contest with Montanism, among other causes, had led such claims to be re- garded with suspicion. The tradition, however, remained, but it was rapidly changing into a theory of official endowment. These "gifts" were now the official possession of the clergy, especially of the bishops. The bishops w^ere the divinely ap- pointed guardians of the deposit of the faith, and therefore those who could determine what was heresy. They were the leaders of worship — a matter of constantly increasing impor- tance with the growing conviction, wide-spread by the beginning of the third century, that the ministry is a priesthood. They were the disciplinary officers of the congregation — -though their authority in this respect was not firmly fixed — able to say when the sinner needed excommunication and when he showed suffi- cient repentance for restoration. As given full expression by CjTDrian of Carthage, about 250 (ajite, p. 70), the foundation of the church is the unity of the bishops. The Christians of a particular city had been regarded, cer- tainly from the beginning of the second century, as constituting a single community, whether meeting in one congregation or many. As such they were under the guidance of a single bishop. Ancient civilization was strongly urban in its political consti- tution. The adjacent country district looked to its neighbor- ing city. Christianity had been planted in the cities. By efforts going out from them, congregations were formed in the surrounding villages, which came at first into the city for their worship ;^ but as they grew larger must increasingly have met by themselves. Planted by Christians from the cities, they were under the oversight of the city bishop, whose immediate field of superintendence was thus growing, by the third century, into a diocese. In some rural portions of the East, notably Syria and Asia Minor, where city influence was relatively weak, country groups of congregations developed before the end of the third century, headed by a rural bishop, a chorepiskopos — 'X^peiriaKowo^ — but this system was not of large growth, nor were these country bishops deemed the equals in dignity of their city brethren. The system did not spread to the West at this time, though introduced there in the Middle Ages, only to prove unsatisfactory. ' Justin, Apology, 67 ; Ayer, p. 35. CLERGY AND LAITY 89 To Cyprian, the episcopate was a unit, and each bishop a representative of all its powers, on an equality with all other bishops. Yet even in his time this theory was becoming im- practicable. The bishops of the great, politically influential cities of the empire were attaining a superiority in dignity over others, which those of Rome even more than the rest were striv- ing to translate into a superiority of jurisdiction. Rome, Alexandria, Antioch, Carthage, and Ephesus, with Jerusalem by reason of religious sentiment, had an outstanding eminence, and Rome most of all. Besides these greater posts, the bishop of the capital city of each province was beginning to be looked upon as having a certain superiority to those of lesser towns in his region ; but the full development of the metropolitan dig- nity was not to come till the fourth century, and earlier in the East than in the West. By the beginning of the third century clergy were sharply distinguished from laity. The technical use of the words laikos — XaiKOf; — and kleros — K\ripo<; — was a gradual development, as was the distinction which they implied. The earliest Christian employment of the former was by Clement of Rome.^ The lat- ter occurs in 1 Peter 5^, in wholly untechnical usage. But /c\i]po<{ and its Latin equivalent, ordo, were the common expressions for the "orders" of magistrates and dignitaries of the Roman Em- pire. It is probably from such popular usage that they come into Christian employment. The letter of the churches of Lyons and Vienne, giving a description of the persecution of 177, spoke of the "order" of the martyrs — /cXripov."^ Tertullian wrote of "clerical order" and "ecclesiastical orders."^ By his time the distinction had become practically fixed ; even if Tertullian himself could recall, for purposes of argument, the early doctrine of the priesthood of all believers,^ "are not even we laics priests?" ^ Admission to clerical office was by ordination, a rite which certainly goes back to the earliest days of the church, at least as a sign of the bestowal of charismatic gifts, or separation for a special duty.® The ordinary process of the choice of a bishop by the middle of the third century was a nomination 1 93-97 ; in 1 Clem., 40. 2 Eusebius, Church History, 5 : V. ^ Monogamy, 12. ■* Chastity, 7. * Compare 1 Peter 2* ; Rev. V. ^Acts 6«, 133; also 1 Tim. 41=, 5"; 2 Tim. 1\ 90 IVIAJOR AND MINOR ORDERS by the other clergy, especially the presbyters, of the city; the approval of neighboring bishops, and ratification or elec- tion by the congregation.^ Ordination followed at the hands of at least one already a bishop — a number of episcopal ordain- ers which had become fixed at a normal minimum of three by the end of the third century. The control of the choice of the presbyters, deacons, and lower clergy lay in the hand of their local bishop, by whom they were ordained.^ The presbyters were the bishop's advisers. With his consent they adminis- tered the sacraments.^ They preached. As congregations grew more numerous in a city, a presbyter would be placed in immediate charge of each, and their importance thereby en- hanced, from its relative depression, immediately after the rise of the monarchical episcopate. There was no fixed limit to their number. The deacons were immediately responsible to the bishop, and were his assistants in the care of the poor and other financial concerns, in aiding in the worship and discipline. They often stood in closer practical relations to him than the presbyters. At Rome, the number of the deacons was seven, in remembrance of Acts 6^. When Bishop Fabian (236-250) adopted the civil division of the city as its fourteen charity districts, he appointed seven sub-deacons in addition to the seven deacons, that the primitive number might not be sur- passed. Sub-deacons also existed in Carthage in the time of Cyprian, and quite generally at a little later period. In many parts of the church there was no fixed rule as to the number of deacons. Bishops, presbyters, and deacons constituted the major orders. Below them there stood in the first half of the third century, the minor orders. In the general absence of all sta- tistical information as to the early church, a letter of Bishop Cornelius of Rome, written about 251, is of high value as showing conditions in that important church. Under the single bishop in Rome there were forty-six presbyters and seven deacons. Below them, constituting what were soon to be known as the minor orders, were seven sub-deacons, forty-two acolytes, and fifty-two exorcists, readers, and janitors.* More 1 Cyprian, Letters, 51-558, 66-68^, &7*- <*. 2 Ibid., 23-29, 33-39S 34-40. 2 Tertullian, Baptism, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167. * Eueebius, Church History, 6 : 43". THE LESSER CLERGY 91 than fifteen hundred dependents were supported by the church, which may have included thirty thousand adherents. Some of these offices were of very ancient origin. Those of readers and exorcists had originally been regarded as charismatic. Exorcists continued to be so viewed in the Orient, and were not there properly officers. By the time of Cyprian the read- er's office was thought a preparatory step toward that of pres- byter.^ The exorcist's task was to drive out evil spirits, in whose prevalent working the age firmly believed. Of the duties of acolytes little is known save that they were assistants in service and aid. They were not to be found in the Orient. The janitors were especially important when it became the custom to admit none but the baptized to the more sacred parts of the service. In the East, though not in the West, deaconesses were to be found who were reckoned in a certain sense as of the clergy. Their origin was probably charismatic and was of high antiquity.^ Their tasks were those of care for women, especially the ill. Besides these deaconesses there were to be found in the churches, both East and West, a class known as "widows," whose origin was likewise ancient.^ Their duties were prayer and aid to the sick, especially of their own sex. They were held in high honor, though hardly to be reckoned properly as of the "clergy." All these were supported, in whoFe or in part, by the gifts of the congregation, which were of large amount, both of eatables and of money.^ These gifts were looked upon, by the time of Cyprian, as "tithes," and were all at the disposal of the bishop.^ By the middle of the third cen- tury the higher clergy were expected to give their whole time to the work of the ministry;^ yet even bishops sometimes shared in secular business, not always of a commendable character. The lower clergy could still engage in trades. It is evident, however, that though the ancient doctrine of the priesthood of all believers might still occasionally be remembered, it had a purely theoretical value. In practical Christian life the clergy, by the middle of the third century were a distinct, close-knit spiritual rank, on whom the laity were religiously dependent, and who were in turn supported by laymen's gifts. 1 Letters, Z3^. ^ Romans l&K 3 1 j Ayer, p. 507. « Ihid., 509. ' Ibid., pp. 510, 511. THE FATE OF NESTORIUS 149 Cyril now signed this creed, though without retracting any of his former utterances. By so doing he made irrevocable the overthrow of Nestorius. Yet Nestorius could have signed it even more willingly than he. This agreement enabled Cyril to secure general recognition in the East for his council of 431, in Ephesus — in the West the participation of papal representa- tives had always accredited it as the Third General Council. Nestorius himself was banished to upper Egypt. There he lived a miserable existence, and there he wrote, certainly as late as the autumn of 450, his remarkable Treatise of Heraclides of Damascus. Whether he survived the Council of Chalcedon is uncertain. There is some reason to think that he did. At all events he rejoiced in the steps which led to it, and felt himself in sympathy with the views which were then pro- claimed orthodox. Not all of Nestorius's sympathizers shared in his desertion. Ibas, the leading theologian of the Syrian school of Edessa, supported his teaching. Persecuted in the empire, Nestorian- ism found much following even in Syria, and protection in Persia. There it developed a wide missionary activity. In the seventh century it entered China, and about the same time southern India. Nestorian churches still exist in the region where Turkey and Persia divide the territory between Lake Urumia and the upper Tigris, and also in India. The agreement of 433 between Antioch and Alexandria was. In reality, but a truce. The division of the two parties but in- creased. Cyril undoubtedly represented the majority of the Eastern Church, with his emphasis on the divine in the person of Christ, at the expense of reducing the human to an Im- personal humanity. Though he vigorously rejected Apolli- narlanism, his tendency was that of Apollinaris. It had the sympathy of the great party of monks; and many, especially in Eg3T)t, went further than Cyril, and viewed Christ's human- ity as practically absorbed in Plis divinity, so that He pos- sessed one nature only, and that divine. Cyril died in 444, and was succeeded as patriarch of Alexandria by Dioscurus, a man of far less intellectual acumen and religious motive, but even more ambitious, if possible, to advance the authority of the Alexandrian see. Two years later, 446, a new patriarch, Flavian, took the bishop's throne in Constantinople. Though little is known of his early history, it seems probable that his 150 DIOSCUKUS, FLAVIAN, AND LEO sympatliies were with the school of Antioch. From the first, Flavian's course promised to be stormy. He had the opposi- tion not only of I)ioscurus, but of the imperial favorite minis- ter, Chrysaphius, who had supplanted Pulcheria in the counsels of Theodosius IL Chrysaphius was a supporter of the Alex- andrians. Occasion for quarrel soon arose. Dioscurus planned an at- tack on the remaining representatives of the Antiochian school as Nestorian heretics. In sympathy with this effort, and as a leader of the monastic party, on the help of which Dioscurus counted, stood the aged abbot or "archimandrite," Eutyches of Constantinople, a man of little theological ability, a partisan of the late Cyril, and influential not only by reason of his popularity, but by the friendship of Chrysaphius. Eutyches was now charged with heresy by Bishop Eusebius of Dorylseum. Flavian took up the case with reluctance, evidently knowing its possibilities of mischief ; but at a local synod in Constanti- nople, late in 448, Eutyches was examined and condemned. His heresy was that he affirmed : " I confess that our Lord was of two natures before the union [i. e., the incarnation], but after the union one nature." ^ Rome had now one of the ablest of its Popes in the person of Leo I (440-461) (see ajite, p. 135), and to Leo both Eutyches and Flavian speedily presented the case.^ To Flavian, whom he heartily supported, Leo wrote his famous letter of June, 449, usually called the Tome,^ in which the great Pope set forth the \iew which the West had entertained since the time of Tertullian, that in Christ were two full and complete natures, which, " without detracting from the properties of either nature and substance, came together in one person." What may be said, chiefly in criticism of Leo's letter is that, while represent- ing clearly and truly the Western tradition, it did not touch the intellectual depths to which the subtler Greek mind had carried its speculations. Probably it was well that it did not. Meanwhile Dioscurus was moving actively in Eutyches's defense and the extension of his own claims. At his instance the EmixTor called a general council to meet in Bphesus in August, 449. At Epheaus Dioscurus was supreme. Eutyches was rehabilitated, Flavian and Eusebius of Dorylseum con- » Aypr, p{). 513, 514. J LeU^s of Leo, 20-28. » Ibid., 28; extracts, Ayer, p. 515. THE COUNCIL OF CHALCEDON 151 demned. Leo's Tome was denied a reading. It was a stormy meeting, but probably not more so than that of Ephesus, in 431, or Chalcedon, in 451. Flavian died shortly after, and rumor had it in consequence of physical violence at the council. The report seems unfounded. Dioscurus had achieved a great victory, but at the fatal cost of a rupture of the ancient alliance between Alexandria and Rome. Leo promptly denounced the council as a "synod of robbers"; but the Emperor, Theodosius II, gave it his hearty support and a sympathizer with Di- oscurus became patriarch of Constantinople. Leo had no success with Theodosius II, but much with the Emperor's sister, Pulcheria; and the situation was profoundly altered when the accidental death of Theodosius in July, 450, put Pulcheria and her husband, Marcian, on the throne. The new sovereigns entered at once into relations with Leo. The Pope wished a new council in Italy, where his influence would have been potent, but this did not satisfy imperial politics. The new General Council was called to meet in Nicaea, in the autumn of 451. Imperial convenience led to the change of place to Chalcedon, opposite Constantinople, and there some six hundred bishops, all but the papal delegates and two others from the Orient, assembled in what has ever since been known as the Fourth Ecumenical Council (that of Ephesus, in 449, being rejected). The council proceeded rapidly with its work. Dioscurus was deposed and sent into exile by imperial authority, where he died three years later. After imperial pressure had been ex- erted, a commission was appointed, of which the papal dele- gates were members, to draw up a creed. Its production was promptly ratified by the council. The result was, indeed, a Western triumph. Rome had given the decision to the ques- tion at issue, and in so doing had made a compromise between the positions of Antioch and Alexandria that was wholly satis- factory to neither. The result was a lengthy document, recit- ing the so-called Nicaeno-Constantinopolitan creed (ante, p. 128), approving Leo's Tovie, and condemning previous heresies.^ Its essential part — the creed of Chalcedon — is as follows : We, then, following the holy Fathers, all with one consent, teach men to confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, 1 Ayer, pp. 517-521. 152 THE CREED OF CHALCEDON the same perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood; truly God and truly man, of a reasonable soul and body; consubstantial (ofioovaiov) with the Father according to the Godhead, and con- substantial with us according to the manhood, in all things like unto us, without sin; begotten before all ages of the Father accord- ing to the Godhead, and in these latter days, for us and for our sal- vation, born of the Virgin IVIary, the Mother of God (Theotokos), according to the manhood; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, in two natures, inconfusedly, unchangeably, in- divisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one person (prosopo7i) and one subsistence (hypodasis), not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son and Only-begotten, God the \Vurd, the Lord Jesus Christ; as the prophets from the beginning have declared concerning Him, and the Lord Jesus Christ Himself has taught us, and the creed of the holy Fathers has handed down to us. Such is the creed that has ever since been regarded in the Greek, Latin, and most Protestant Churches as the "ortho- dox" solution of the Christological problem. It is easy to criticise it. Its adoption was greatly involved in ecclesiastical politics. It solved few of the intellectual difficulties regarding Christology which had been raised in the East. It did not even heal the Christological quarrels. But, when all is ad- mitted, it must be said that its formulation was fortunate and its consequences useful. It established a norm of doctrine in a field in which there had been great confusion. More im- portant than that, it was true to the fundamental conviction of the church that in Christ a complete revelation of God is made in terms of a genuine human life. If a coincidence of imperial and Roman interests had secured a great dogmatic victory for Rome, the imperial authority was determined that the victory should not be one of Roman juris- diction. By a canon, against which Leo protested, the council exalted the claims of Constantinople to a dignity like that of Rome (ante, p. i;i5). Nor was the downfall of Alexandria less damaging. Alexandrian rivalry of Constantinople had been J{ome's advantage in the East. Now successful rivalry was at an end, for the consequences of the Chalcedonian decision (Tijjpied Alexandria permanently. By the council the historic distribution of the Orient was completed, Jerusalem being given THE MONOPHYSITE REVOLT 153 the patriarchal standing which it had long claimed, side by side with the three older patriarchates, Constantinople, Alexan- dria, and Antioch. SECTION X. THE EAST DIVIDED The creed of Chalcedon was now the official standard of the empire. Its Western origin and spirit made it unaccept- able, however, to a large portion of the East. To many Ori- entals it seemed "Nestorian." This was especially true in those regions which shared most strongly in the Alexandrian tendency to emphasize the divine in Christ at the expense of the fully human, and these elements of opposition included most of the monks, the old native stock of Egypt generally, and a large portion of the population of Syria and Armenia. Undoubtedly the tendencies which the "orthodox" Cyril and his heretical successor, Dioscurus, had represented were con- sonant with the Greek conception of salvation, and seemed to do special honor to Christ. These rejecters of the creed of Chalcedon included many shades of opinion, but as a whole they showed little departure from Cyril. Their chief differ- ence from Chalcedon and the West was one of emphasis. They rejected Eutyches, yet most of them would say "of two natures," provided it was understood that the human and di- vine were united in the incarnation into one nature, and that essentially divine, with human attributes. As with Cyril, this humanity was impersonal, and, perhaps, even more than with him it was transformed into divinity, so that without ceasing, in a certain sense, to be human, it was properly describable as one divine nature. Hence the opponents of Chalcedon were called Monophysites — believers in one nature. Immediately after the Council of Chalcedon Palestine and, next, Egypt were in practical revolution, which the government was able only slowly to master. By 457 the see of Alexandria was in possession of a Monophysite, Timothy, called by his enemies the Cat; by 461, Peter the Fuller, of the same faith, held that of Antioch. These captures were not to be perma- nent, but the native populations of Egypt and Syria were throwing off the dominance of Constantinople and largely sympathized with the Monophysite protest. In Antioch Peter the Fuller caused fresh commotion by adding to the Trisagion, 154 COMPROMISE EFFORTS so that the ascription ran: "Holy God, holy Strong, holy Im- mortal, who iras crucified for ?/,?." The empire found itself grievously threatened, politically no less than religiously, by these disaffections; and much of the imperial policy for more than two centuries was devoted to their adjustment, with slight permanent success. In the con- test between Zeno and Basilicus for the imperial throne, the latter made a direct bid for Monophysite support by issuing, in 476, an Encyclion, in which he anathematized "the so-called Tome of Leo, and all things done at Chalcedon" in modification of the Nicene creed.^ For such a reversal the East was not yet ready, and this action of Basilicus was one of the causes that led to his overthrow by Zeno. Zeno, however, probably induced by the patriarch Acacius of Constantinople, made a new attempt to heal the schism. In 482 he published his famous IIe7ioticon.^ In it the results of the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople were confirmed, Nestorius and Eutyches condemned, and Cyril's "twelve chapters"^ approved. It gave a brief Christological statement, the exact relationship of which to that of Chalcedon was not, and was not intended to be, clear. Its chief significance was in the declaration : "These things we write, not as making an innovation upon the faith, but to satisfy you ; and every one who has held or holds any other opinion, either at the present or at another time, whether at Chalcedon or in any synod whatever, we anathematize." This left it free to hold the Chalcedonian creed to be errone- ous. The consequence was not peace but confusion. While many Monophysites accepted it, the Monophysite extremists would have nothing to do with the Henoticon. On the other hand, the Roman see, feeling its honor and its orthodoxy at- tacked by this practical rejection of Chalcedon, excommuni- cated Acacius and broke off relations with the East, the schism continuing till 519, when the Emperor Justin renewed the authority of Chalcedon, under circumstances that increased the prestige of the j^apacy,'' but only alienated Egypt and Syria the more. Justin's successor, the great Justinian (527-565), more fully than any other of the Eastern Emperors, succeeded in making himself master of the church. His conspicuous military suc- » Ayer, pp. 523-526. « Ihid., pp. 527-529. » Ibid., pp. 50»-507. « Ante, p. 135 ; see Ayer, p. 536. JUSTINIAN'S POLICY 155 cesses restored to the empire for a time control of Italy and North Africa. The church was now practically a department of the state. Heathenism was suppressed and persecuted as never before. While Justinian himself was, at first, strongly Chalcedonian in his sympathies, his Empress, Theodora, leaned to the Monophysite side. He soon gave up the persecution of Monophysites with which his reign began. Himself one of the ablest theological minds of the age, he sought to develop an ecclesiastical policy that would so interpret the creed of Chal- cedon that, while leaving it technically untouched, would ex- clude any possible Antiochian or "Nestorian" construction, thus bringing its significance fully into accord with the the- ology of Cyril of Alexandria. By this means he hoped to pla- cate the Monophysites, and also to satisfy the wishes of the East generally, whether "orthodox" or Monophysite, without offending Rome and the West too deeply by an actual rejection of the Chalcedonian decision. Hence the establishment of a Cyrillic-Chalcedonian orthodoxy was Justinian's aim. It was a diflBcult task. As far as concerned a satisfaction of the Mo- nophysites in general it failed. In its effort to render the Cyril- lic interpretation of the creed of Chalcedon the only "ortho- dox " view it succeeded. Any form of Antiochianism was perma- nently discredited. By this result Justinian undoubtedly satisfied the wishes of the overwhelming majority of the "orthodox" East. Justinian was greatly aided in his task by the rise of a fresh interpretation of the Chalcedonian creed, in the teaching of a monastic theologian, Leontius of Byzantium (c. 485-543). The age was witnessing a revival of the Aristotelian philosophy, and Leontius applied Aristotelian distinctions to the Chris- tological problems. The feeling of much of the East, both "orthodox" and Monophysite, was that the affirmation of two natures in Christ could not be interpreted without involv- ing two hypostases — subsistences — and therefore being "Nes- torian." An explanation without these "Nestorian" conse- quences was what Leontius now gave. The natures might be " intra-hypostatic " — evvTroa-Tarot — that is, there might be such a hypostatic union that while the peculiarities of one nature remained, it might find its hypostasis in the other. In Christ this one hypostasis, which is that of both natures, is that of the Logos. Thus Leontius would interpret the creed of Chal- 15G JUSTINIAN AS A THEOLOGICAL POLITICL\N cedon in teruis wholly consonant with the aim, if not with the exact lanpiiafje, of Cyril. The human in Christ is real, but is so suborflinated that the ultimate reality is the divine. Such an interpretation seemed, at the time, a quite possible basis of reunion with the more moderate Monophysites, who constituted their majority. The large section led by Severus, Monophysite patriarch of Antioch (512-518), who, till his death in 538, found a refuge in Egypt, held essentially the same posi- tion as Leontius. Their chief difference was that thej^ regarded the Chalcedonian Council and its creed with greater suspicion. With the more radical Monophysites, led by Julian of Halicar- nassus («7. after 518), the prospect of union was less auspicious. They went so far as to hold that Christ's body was incorrupti- ble from the beginning of the incarnation, and incapable of suffering save so far as Christ Himself permitted it. Its enemies charged the theory of Julian with Docetic significance. To meet this situation by establishing an anti-Antiochian, Cyrillic interpretation of the creed of Chalcedon, and winning, if possible, the moderate Monophysites, was the aim of Jus- tinian. He came to favor the so-called " Theopaschite " (i. e., "suffering God") formula of the Scythian monks, "one of the Trinity suffered in the flesh," after a controversy lasting from 519 to 533. Because of monastic quarrels in Palestine, and also because the Emperor's theological sympathies, like those of his age, were exceedingly intolerant, Justinian condemned the memory and teachings of Origen in 543.^ Justinian's great effort to further his theological policy was the occasion of the discussion known as that of the "Three Chapters." In 544 Justinian, defining the issue by his own imperial authority, condemned the person and writings of Theo- dore of ]\Iopsuestia, now more than a cditury dead, but once the reverefl leader of the school of Antioch (ante, p. 145), the writings of Theodoret of Cyrus in criticism, of Cyril (ante, p. 148), and a letter of Ibas of Edessa to IMaris the Persian (ante, p. 149). Theodoret and Ibas had been approved by the Council of Chalcedon, The action of the Emperor nominally left the creed of Chalcedon untouched, but made it impossible of interj)retation in any but a Cyrillic sense, condemned the school of Antioch, and greatly disparaged the authority of the Council of Chalcedon. The edict aroused not a little opposi- » Aycr, pp. 542, 543. JUSTINIAN AS A THEOLOGICAL POLITICIAN 157 tion. Pope Vigilius (537-555) disliked it, but the imperial reconquest of Italy had placed the Popes largely in the power of the Emperor. Between his knowledge of the feeling of the West and his fear of Justinian, Vigilius's attitude was vacil- lating and utterly unheroic.^ To carry out his will, Justinian now convened the Fifth General Council, which met in Constan- tinople in 553. By it the "Three Chapters," i. e., Theodore and the writings just described, were condemned, the "Theo- paschite" formula approved, and Origen once more reckoned a heretic.^ Pope Vigilius, though in Constantinople, refused ■to share in these proceedings, but such was the imperial pres- sure that within less than a year he acceded to the decision of the council. The Cyrillic interpretation of the creed of Chal- cedon was now the only "orthodox" understanding. The action of the council was resisted for a few years in North Africa; and the yielding attitude of the Pope led to a schis- matic separation of northern Italy from Rome which lasted till the time of Gregory the Great, and in the neighboring Illyricum and Istria even longer. One main purpose of the condemnation of the "Three Chapters" — the reconciliation of the Monophy sites — failed. In Egypt and Syria Monophysit- ism remained the dominant force, the real reason being that these provinces were developing a native national conscious- ness antagonistic to the empire, for which theological differences were the excuse more than the cause. Under Justinian's successors, Justin II (565-578), and Ti- berius II (578-582), alternate severe persecution of the Mo- nophy sites and vain attempts to win them occurred. These efforts were now of less significance as the Monophysite groups were now practically separated national churches. The native Monophysite body of Egypt can hardly be given fixed date for its origin. From the Council of Chalcedon the land was in- creasingly in religious rebellion. That church, the Coptic, is still the main Christian body of Egypt, numbering more than six hundred and fifty thousand adherents, strongly Monophy- site to this day in doctrine, under the rule of a patriarch who still takes his title from Alexandria, though his seat has long been in Cairo. Its services are still chiefly in the ancient Coptic, though Arabic has to some extent replaced it. The most conspicuous daughter of the Coptic Church is the Abys- ' See Ayer, pp. 544-551. ^ Ayer, pp. 551, 552. 158 EGYPT, ABYSSINIA, SYRIA, AND ARMENIA sinian. When Christianity was introduced into "Ethiopia" is uncertain. There is some reason to think that its first mis- sionary was Frumentius, ordained a bishop by Athanasius, about 330. The effective spread of Christianity there seems to have been by Egyptian monks, about 480. The Abyssinian Church stands to the present day in dependent relations to that of Egypt, its head, the Abuna, being appointed by the Coptic patriarch of Alexandria. It is Monophysite, and differs little from that of Egypt, save in the backwardness of its cul- ture, and the great extent to which fasting is carried. It is probably the lowest in civilization of any existing church. While Egypt presented the spectacle of a united Monophy- site population, Syria was deeply divided. Part of its inhabi- tants inclined to Nestorianism (ante, p. 149). Some were orthodox, and many JMonophysite. The great organizer of Syrian Monophysitism, after its persecution in the early part of the reign of Justinian, was Jacob, nicknamed Baradseus (?-578). Born near Edessa, he became a monk and enjoyed the support of Justinian's Monophysite-disposed Empress, Theodora. In 541 or 543 he was ordained bishop of Edessa, and for the rest of his life served as a JNIonophysite missionary, ordaining, it is said, eighty thousand clergy. To him Syrian Monophysitism owed its great growth, and from him the Syrian Monophysite Church, which exists to the present day, derives the name given by its opponents, Jacobite. Its head calls himself patriarch of Antioch, though his seat has for centuries been in the Tigris Valley, where most of his flock are to be found. They number about eighty thousand. Armenia during the first four centuries of the Roman Em- pire was a vassal kingdom, never thoroughly Romanized, maintaining its own language and peculiarities under its own sovereii^rns. Christian beginnings are obscure; but the great propagator of Christianity in the land was Gregory, called the Illuminator, who labored in the closing years of the third cen- tury. By him King Tiridates (c. 238-314) was converted and baptized — Armenia thus becoming the first country to have a Christian ruler, since this event antedated the Christian pro- fession of Constantine. Armenian Christianity grew vigor- ously. Never very closely bound to the Roman world, Ar- menia was in part ccnuiuered by Persia in 387. In the struggles of the next century hatred of Persia seems to have turned THE CHRISTOLOGICAL CONTROVERSIES 159 Armenia in the Monophyslte direction, since Persia favored Nestorianism {ante, p. 149). By an Armenian council, held in Etchmiadzin (Valarshabad), in 491, the Council of Chalcedon and the Tome of Leo were condemned, and the Armenian or Gregorian Church — so named from its founder — has been ever since Monophysite. Armenians at present are wide-spread throughout the Turkish empire and the adjacent portions of Russia. Armenians are believed to number not less than two millions nine hundred thousand, of whom the greater part are Gregorians. The Gregorian Church is now far the most im- portant and vigorous of these ancient separated churches of the East. The effect of the Christological controversies was disas- trous to church and state. By the close of the sixth century the Roman state church of the East had been rent, and sepa- rated churches, Nestorian and Monophysite had been torn from it. Egypt and Syria were profoundly disaffected toward the government and religion of Constantinople — a fact that largely accounts for the rapid conquest of those lands by Mohammedanism in the seventh century. SECTION XI. CATASTROPHES AND FURTHER CONTROVERSIES IN THE EAST Justinian's brilliant restoration of the Roman power was but of brief duration. From 568, the Lombards were press- ing into Italy. Without conquering it wholly, they occupied the north and a large portion of the centre. The last Roman garrisons were driven out of Spain by the Visigoths in 624. The Persians gained temporary control of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt between 613 and 629, and overran Asia Minor to the Bosphorus. On the European side the Avars, and the Slavic Croats and Serbs, conquered the Danube lands and most of the Balkan provinces, largely annihilating Christianity there, penetrating in 623 and 626 to the defenses of Constantinople itself. That the empire did not then perish was due to the military genius of the Emperor Heraclius (610-642), by whom the Persians were brilliantly defeated, and the lost eastern provinces restored. Before his death, however, a new power, that of Mohammedanism, had arisen. Its prophet died in Medina in 632, but the conquest which he had planned was 160 THE ]\IONOTHELITE CONTROVERSY carried out by the Caliphs Omar and Othman. Damascus fell in 635, Jerusalem and Antioch in 638, Alexandria in 641. In 651, the Persian kingdom was brought to an end. By 711, the ]\Iohammedan flood crossed the Strait of Gibraltar into Spain, bringing the Visigothic monarchy to a close, and swept forward into France, where its progress was permanently checked by the Franks, under Charles Martel, in the great battle of 732, between Tours and Poitiers. In the East, Con- stantinople successfully resisted it, in 672-678, and again in 717-718. Syria, Egypt, and North Africa were permanently taken by the Mohammedans. I'nder such circumstances, before the final catastrophe, efforts were naturally made to secure unity in the threatened portions of the empire. After negotiations lasting several years, in which the patriarch Sergius of Constantinople was the leader, a union policy was inaugurated by the Emperor Hera- clius, on the basis of a declaration that in all that He did Christ acted by "one divine-human energy." Cyrus, the "orthodox" patriarch of Alexandria, set up a formula of union, of which this was the substance, in Egypt, in 633, with much apparent suc- cess in conciliating Monophysite opinion.^ Opposition arose, led by a Palestinian monk, Sophronius, soon to be patriarch of Jerusalem. Sergius was alarmed and now tried to stop any discussion of the question. He now wrote, in that sense, to Pope Ilonorius (625-638), who advised against the expression "energy" as unscriptural, and said, rather incidentally, that Christ had one will. Heraclius now, in 638, issued his Eklhesls, composed by Sergius, in which he forbade discussion of the question of one or two energies and affirmed that Christ had one will. It was easier to start a theological controversy than to end it. Pope John IV (640-642) condemned the doctrine of one will in Christ — or Monothelite heresy as it was called — in G41. Heraclius died that year, and was succeeded by Con- stans II (642-()68), who issued, in 648, a Typos, in which he forbade discussion of the question of Christ's will or wills.^ The holder of the papacy was the ambitious Martin I (649- 655), who saw in the situation an opportunity not only to further an interpretation of the theological problem consonant w ith the views of the West, which had always held that Christ's > Ayer, pp. 661, 662. 2 Ibid., pp. 662-664. THE SIXTH GENERAL COUNCIL IGl natures were each perfect and entire, but also to assert papal authority in the Orient. He therefore assembled a great synod in Rome in 649, which proclaimed the existence of two wills in Christ — human and divine — and not only condemned Ser- gius and other patriarchs of Constantinople, but the Ekthesis and the Typos} This was flat defiance of the Emperor. Con- stans had Pope Martin arrested and brought a prisoner to Constantinople in 653, where he was treated with great bru- tality. Martin had the courage of his convictions. He was exiled to the Crimea, where he died. Strained relations be- tween Rome and Constantinople followed. Constans II was succeeded by Constantine IV (668-685). By that time, the Monophysite provinces, the retention of which had been the source of the discussion, had been taken by the Mohammedans. It was more important to placate Italy than to favor them. The Emperor entered into negotiations with Pope Agatho (678-681), who issued a long letter of definition as Leo I had once set forth his Tome. Under imperial auspices a council, the Sixth General Council, was held in Constantinople in 680 and 681. By it Christ was declared to have "two natural wills or willings . . . not contrary one to the other . . . but His human will follows, not as resisting or reluctant, but rather as subject to His divine and omnipotent will." It also con- demned Sergius and other of his successors in the patriarchate of Constantinople, Cyrus of Alexandria and Pope Honorius.^ For the third time Rome had triumphed over the divided East in theological definition. Nicsea, Chalcedon, and Con- stantinople had all been Roman victories. It must be said, also, that a human will was necessary for that complete and perfect humanity of Christ as well as perfect divinity, for which the West had always stood. The doctrine, thus defined, was the logical completion of that of Chalcedon. With its defini- tion, the Christological controversies were ended in so far as doctrinal determination was concerned. While the Sixth General Council was thus a Western success, it had a sort of appendix which was, in a sense, a Western defeat. Like the council of the "Three Chapters" (553), it had formulated no disciplinary canons. A council to do this work was summoned by Justinian II (685-695, 704-711), to meet in Constantinople in 692, and is called from the domed 1 Extracts, Ayer, pp. 664, 665. 2 Ayer, pp. 665-672. 1G2 THE IMAGE CONTROVERSY room in whicli it assembled — which was that in which the council of 680 and 681 had met — the Second Trullan Council, or Concilium Qiiini-se-rtinn, as completing the Fifth and Sixth General Councils. It was entirely Eastern in its composition, and is looked upon by the Oriental Church as the completion of the council of 680 and 681, though its validity is not accepted by that of Rome. Many ancient canons were renewed; but several of the new enactments directly contradicted Western practice. It enacted, in agreement with Chalcedon, that " the see of Constantinople shall enjoy equal privilege with the see of Old Rome." It permitted marriage to deacons and pres- byters, and condemned the Roman prohibition of such mar- riages. The Greek Church still maintains this permission. It forbade the Roman custom of fasting on Saturdays in Lent. It prohibited the favorite Western representation of Christ under the symbol of a lamb, ordering instead the depiction of a human figure.^ Though not very important in themselves, these enactments are significant of the growing estrangement in feeling and practice between East and West. The apparent collapse of the Eastern empire in the seventh century was followed by a very considerable renewal of its strength under the able Leo III, the Isaurian (717-740), to whose military and administrative talents its new lease of life was due. A forceful sovereign, he would rule the church in the spirit of Justinian. He desired to make entrance as easy as possible for Jews, Moslems, and the representatives of the stricter Christian sects, such as the remaining Montanists. They charged the church with idolatry, by reason of the wide- spread veneration of pictures. In 726, Leo forbade their further employment in worship. The result was religious revolt. The monks and common people resisted, partly from veneration of images, partly in the hiterest of the freedom of the church from imperial dictation. Leo enforced his decree by the army. In most of the empire he had his will. Italy was too remote, and there Popes and people resisted him. Under Pope Gregory HI (731-741), a Roman synod of 731 excommunicated the opponents of pictures. The Emperor answered by removing all of Sicily and such portions of Italy as he could from the Pope's jurisdiction. Leo's able and tyrannous son, Constan- tine V (740-775), pursued the same policy even more relent- ' Ayer, pp. 673-679. JOHN OF DAMASCUS 103 lessly. A synod assembled by him in Constantinople in 754 condemned pictures and approved his authority over the church. In this struggle the papacy sought the help of the Franks and tore itself permanently from dependence on the Eastern Emperors. A change of imperial policy came, however, with the accession of Constantine VI (780-797), under the dominance of his mother, Irene, a partisan of pictures. By imperial authority, and with the presence of papal delegates, the Seventh and, in the estimate of the Greek Church, the last. General Council now assembled in Niciea in 787. By its de- cree pictures, the cross, and the Gospels " should be given due salutation and honorable reverence, not indeed that true wor- ship, which pertains alone to the divine nature. . . . For the honor which is paid to the image passes on to that which the image represents, and he who shows reverence to the image shows reverence to the subject represented in it." ^ The council seems to have been unconscious that much the same thing could have been said by heathenism for its images. Among the vigorous supporters of image-reverence was John of Damascus (700?-753?), the most honored of the later theo- logians of the Eastern portion of the ancient church. Born in the city from which he took his name, the son of a Christian high-placed in the civil service of the Mohammedan Caliph, he succeeded to his father's position, only to abandon it and become a monk of the cloister of St. Sabas near Jerusalem. His chief work, The Fountain of Knowledge, is a complete, systematic presentation of the theology of the church of the East. With little of originality, and much use of extracts from earlier writers, he presented the whole in clear and logical form, so that he became the great theological instructor of the Greek Church, and, thanks to a Latin translation of the twelfth cen- tury, influenced the scholasticism of the West. His philosophi- cal basis is an Aristotelianism largely influenced by Neo-Flaton- ism. In the Christological discussion he followed Leontius {ante, p. 155), in an interpretation of the Chalcedonian symbol consonant with the views of Cyril. To him the death of Christ is a sacrifice offered to God, not a ransom to the devil. The Lord's Supper is fully the body and blood of Christ, not by tran- substantiation, but by a miraculous transformation wrought by the Holy Spirit. ^ Ayer, pp. 694-697. 1G4 COXSTITUTIOX OF THE IMPERIAL CHURCH John of Damascus summed up the theological development of the Orient, and beyond the positions which he represented the East made practically no progress. Its contribution to the intellectual explanation of Christianity was completed. SECTION XII. THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH The acceptance of Christianity as the religion of the empire gave to the Emperors a practical authority over the church. By the time of Justinian, the Emperor declared, on his own initiative, what was sound doctrine, and to a considerable extent regulated churchly administration.^ The Emperors largely controlled appointment to high ecclesiastical office, especially in the East. This imperial power was limited, how- ever, by the necessity, which even Emperors as powerful as Justinian felt, of securing the approval of the church through general councils for statements of faith and canons of adminis- tration. The imperial support of these edicts and decisions of general councils made heresy a crime, and must seriously have limited freedom of Christian thought. It was a very narrow path both in doctrinal opinion and in administration, that a bishop of Constantinople, for instance, had to walk. If con- ditions were more favorable for the papacy (ante, pp. 134-136), it was largely a consequence of the general ineffectiveness of imperial control in Italy, though cases were not lacking where the Popes felt the heavy hands of the Emperors. As in the third century, the bishops continued to be the centres of local ecclesiastical administration, and their power tended to increase. By them the other clergy were not merely ordained, but the pay of those below them was in their hands. The First Council of Xicaia provided that other clergy should not remove from a diocese without the bishop's consent.^ In each of the provinces the bishop of the capital city was the metropolitan, who, according to the synod of Antioch (341), should "have precedence in rank . . . that the other bishops do nothing extraordinary without him." ^ The ancient custom of local synods, for the consideration of provincial questions was ex- tended, the First Council of Niciea requiring them to be held ' E. g., Ay.T, pp. 542, 555. 2 Ayer, p. 361. » Ibid., p. 363. I THE CLERGY 165 twice a year.^ This metropolitan arrangwnent was fullj in- troduced into the East by the middle of the fourth century. In the West it was about half a century later in development, and was limited in Italy by the dominance of the papacy. Nevertheless it won its way in northern Italy, Spain, and Gaul. Above the metropolitans stood the bishops of the great capitals of the empire, the patriarchs, whose prominence antedated the rise of the metropolitan system. These were the bishops, or patriarchs, of Rome, Constantinople (by 381), Alexandria, Antioch, and, by 451, Jerusalem. By Constantine, the clergy were made a privileged class and exempted from the public burdens of taxation (319).^ The government, anxious not to lose its revenues through the en- trance into clerical office of the well-to-do, ordered that only those "of small fortune" should be ordained (326).^ The result of this policy was that, though the ordination of slaves was everywhere discouraged, and was forbidden in the East by the Emperor Zeno in 484, the clergy were prevailingly re- cruited from classes of little property or education. The bril- liant careers of some men of talent and means, of whom Ambrose is an example, show the possibilities then before those of high ability who passed these barriers. The feeling, which had long existed, that the higher clergy, at least, should not engage in any worldly or gainful occupation, grew, and such works were expressly forbidden by the Emperor Valentinian III in 452. Such exclusive devotion to the clerical calling demanded an enlarged support. The church now received not merely the gifts of the faithful, as of old ; but the income of a rapidly in- creasing body of landed estates presented or bequeathed to it by wealthy Christians, the control of which was in the hands of the bishops. An arrangement of Pope Simplicius (468-483) provided that ecclesiastical income should be divided into quar- ters, one each for the bishop, the other clergy, the up-keep of the services and edifices, and for the poor. The feeling was natural that the clergy should be moral ex- amples to their flocks. Celibacy had long been prized as be- longing to the holier Christian life. In this respect the West was stricter than the East. Pope Leo I (440-461) held that even sub-deacons should refrain from marriage,^ though it was 1 Ayer, p. 360. 2 Ibid., p. 283. ^ Ibid., p. 2S0. ,* Letters, U^. 166 CATECHUMENS, CONFIRMATION to be centuries before this rule was universally enforced In the Western Church. In the East, the practice which still con- tinues was established by the time of Justinian, that only celibates could be bishops, while clergy below that rank could marry before ordination. This rule, though not without advantages, has had the great disadvantage of blocking pro- motion in the Eastern Church, and leading to the choice of bishops prevailingly from the ranks of the monks. While the bishop's power was thus extensive, the growth of the church into the rural districts about the cities, and of many congregations in the cities themselves, led to the formation of congregations In charge of presbyters, and thus to a certain increase in the importance of the presbyterial office. These congregations still belonged, in most regions, to the undivided city church, ruled by the bishop; but by the sixth century the parish system made Its appearance in France. There the priest (presbyter) In charge received two-thirds of the local income, paying the rest to the bishop. The incoming of masses from heathenism Into the church led, at first, to an emphasis on the catechumenate. Reception to It, with the sign of the cross and laying on of hands, was popularly regarded as conferring membership in the church, and was as far as the great multitude of less earnest Christians went in Christian profession, save in possible danger of death. The growth of generations of exclusively Christian ancestry, and, in the West, the spread of Augustinian doctrines of bap- tismal grace, brought this half-way attitude to an end. The catechumenate lost its significance when the whole population had become supposedly Christian. In one Important respect East and West fell asunder In this period regarding rites connected with baptism. As already described, by the time of Tertullian {ante, p. 96), baptism proper was followed by anointing and laying on of hands in token of the reception of the Holy Spirit. In Tertullian 's age both baptism and laying on of hands were acts of the bishop, save in case of necessity, when baptism could be admin- istered by any Christian (ante, p. 97). With the growth of the church, presbji^ers came to baptize regularly in East and West. With regard to the further rite the two regions differed. The East saw its chief significance in the anointing, and al- lowed that to be performed, as It does to-day, by the presbyter PUBLIC WORSHIP 167 with oil consecrated by the bishop. The West viewed the lay- ing on of hands as the all-important matter, and held that that could be done by the bishop alone^ as successor to the Apostles. The rites therefore became separated in the West. "Confirma- tion " took place often a considerable time after baptism, when the presence of the bishop could be secured, though it was long before the age of the candidate was fixed in the Western Church. SECTION XIII. PUBLIC WORSHIP AND SACRED SEASONS Public worship in the fourth and fifth centuries stood wholly under the influence of the conception of secret discipline, the so-called disciplina arcani, derived, it is probable, from con- ceptions akin to or borrowed from the mystery religions. Its roots run back apparently into the third century. Under these impulses the services were divided into two parts. The first was open to catechumens and the general public, and included Bible reading, singing, the sermon, and prayer. To the second, the true Christian mystery, none but the baptized were ad- mitted. It had its crown in the Lord's Supper, but the creed and the Lord's Prayer were also objects of reserve from those uninitiated by baptism. With the disappearance of the cate- chumenate in the sixth century, under the impression that the population was all now Christian, the secret discipline came to an end. The public portion of Sunday worship began with Scripture reading, interspersed with the singing of psalms. These selec- tions presented three passages, the prophets, i. e., Old Testa- ment, the epistles, the Gospels, and were so read as to cover the Bible in the course of successive Sundays. The desirability of reading appropriate selections at special seasons, and of some abbreviation led, by the close of the fourth century, to the preparation of lectionaries. In the Arian struggle the use of hymns other than psalms grew common, and was furthered in the West with great success by Ambrose of Milan. The latter part of the fourth and the first half of the fifth centuries was above all others an age of great preachers in the ancient church. Among the most eminent were Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysostom, and Cyril of Alexandria in the East, . 1 Acl& 8"-". 168 THE LORD'S SUPPER and Ambrose, Augustine, and Leo I in the West. This preach- ing was largely expository, though with plain application to the problems of daily life. In form it was often highly rhetori- cal, and the hearers manifested their approval by applause. Yet, while this preaching was probably never excelled, preach- ing was by no means general, and in many country districts, or even considerable cities, few sermons were to be heard. Prayer was offered before and after the sermon in liturgical form. The benediction was given by the bishop, when present, to the various classes for whom prayer was made, and the non-baptized then dismissed. The private portion of the service — the Lord's Supper — followed. Both East and West held that, by divine power, the miracle of the presence of Christ was wrought, but differed as to when in the service it took place. In the judgment of the East it was during the prayer known as the invocation, epiklesis. This was undoubtedly the view in the West till late in the sixth century. There, however, it was replaced, probably under Roman influence, by the conviction that the Eucharistic miracle occurred when the words of institution were recited, culminating in "This is My body . . . this is the new covenant in My blood." To Gregory of Nyssa and Cyril of Alexandria the Supper is the repetition of the incarnation, wherein Christ takes the elements into union with Himself as once He did human flesh. The Lord's Supper was at once a sacrifice and a communion. It was possible to emphasize one aspect or the other. The East put that of communion in the foreground. Consonant with its theory of salvation, the Supper was viewed as primarily a great, life-giving mystery, wherein the partaker received the transforming body and blood of his Lord, and thereby became, in a measure at least, a partaker of the divine nature, built up to the immortal and sinless life. This view was far from denied in the West. It was held to be true. But the Western conception of salvation as coming into right relations with God, led the West to emphasize the aspect of .sacrifice, as inclining God to be gracious to those in whose behalf it was offered. The Western mind did not lend itself so readily as the Eastern to mysticism. In general, the Oriental administration of the Lord's Supper tended to become a 'mys- tery-drama, in which the divine and eternal manifested itself in life-giving energy. CHRISTMAS 169 Beside the Sunday worship, daily services of a briefer char- acter were now very common, and had widely developed into morning and evening worship. The older festivals of the Christian year, Easter and Pente- cost, were, as earlier, great periods of religious observance. Easter was preceded by a forty days' fast, though the method of reckoning this lenten period varied. The Roman sj^stem became ultimately that of the whole West, and continues to the present. The whole of Holy Week was now a time of special penitential observance, passing over to the Easter re- joicing. By the fourth century the observance of Ascension was general. The chief addition to the festivals of the church which belongs to this period is that of Christmas. Apparently no feast of Christ's nativity was held in the church till into the fourth century. By the second century, January 6 had been observed by the Gnostic disciples of Basilides as the date of Jesus' baptism. At a time not now apparent, but probably about the beginning of the fourth century, this was regarded in the East as the time of Christ's birth also, by reason of an interpretation of Luke 3'-'^, which made Him exactly thirty years old at His baptism. Other factors were at work, how- ever. It was an opinion in the third century that the universe was created at the vernal equinox, reckoned in the Julian calendar as March 25. Similar habits of thought would make the beginning of the new creation, the inception of the incarna- tion, fall on the same day, and therefore Christ's birth on the winter solstice, December 25. That that date, when the sun begins to turn, was the birthday of the Mithraic Sol Invictus, was not probably the reason of the choice, though it may well have commended it as substituting a great Christian for a popular heathen festival. At all events, the celebration of December 25 as Christmas appears first in Rome, apparently in 353 or 354, though it may date from 336. From Rome it spread to the East, being introduced Into Constantinople, probably by Gregory of Nazianzus, between 378 and 381. A sermon of Chrysostom, preached in Antioch in 388, declares that the celebration was then not ten years old in the East, and the discourse was delivered, it would appear, on the first observance of December 25 in the Syrian capital. It reached Alexandria between 400 and 432.^ From its inauguration, ^ Kirsopp Lake, in Hastings's Enajclopcedia of Religion and Ethics, 3^°^-^. 170 MARTYRS AND RELICS Christmas became one of the great festivals of the church, comparable only with Easter and Pentecost. SECTION XIV. LOWER CHRISTIANITY The beginnings of veneration of martyrs and of their relics run back to the middle of the second century. Their deaths were regularly commemorated with public services (ante, p. 93). With the conversion of Constantine, however, and the accession to the church of masses fresh from heathenism, this reverence largely increased. Constantine himself built a great church in honor of Peter in Rome. His mother, Helena, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where the true cross was thought to be discovered. Men looked back on the time of persecution with much reason, as a heroic age, and upon its martyrs as the athletes of the Christian race. Popular opinion, which had long sanctioned the remembrance of the martyrs in prayer and worship, had passed over, before the close of the fourth century, to the feeling that they were to be prayed to as in- tercessors with God,^ and as able to protect, heal, and aid those who honored them. There arose thus a popular Chris- tianity of the second rank, as Harnack has well called it. The martyrs, for the masses, took the place of the old gods and heroes. To the martyrs, popular feeling added distinguished ascetics, church leaders, and opponents of heresy. There was, as yet, no regular process of weighing claims to sainthood. Inclusion in its ranks was a matter of common opinion. They were guardians of cities, patrons of trades, curers of disease. They are omnipresent. As Jerome expressed it: "They fol- low the Lamb, whithersoever lie goeth. If the Lamb is present everywhere, the same must be believed respecting those who are with the Lamb." ^ They were honored with burning tapers.^ Chief of all these sacred personages was the Virgin Mary. Pious fancy busied itself with her early. To Irenagus she was the second Eve {ante, p. GG). Yet, curiously enough, she did not stand out pre-eminent till well into the fourth century, at least in the teaching of the intellectual circles in the church, though popular legend, as reflected for instance in the apocry- ' Augustine, Sermons, 159'. -Against Vigilantius, 6, » Ibid., 7. THE VIRGIN MARY 171 phal Protevangelium of James, had made much of her. Ascetic feeling, as illustrated in Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria, asserted her perpetual virginity. With the rise of monasticism, the Virgin became a monastic ideal. The full elevation of Mary to the first among created beings came with the Chris- tological controversies, and the complete sanction of the de- scription "Mother of God," in the condemnation of Nestorius and the decision of the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon. Thenceforth the Virgin was foremost among all saints in pop- ular and ofiicial reverence alike. To her went out much of that feeling which had found expression in the worship of the mother goddesses of Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor, though in a far nobler form. Above that was the reverence rightfully her due as the chosen vehicle of the incarnation. All that martyr or Apostle could do for the faithful as intercessor or protector, she, as blessed above them, could dispense in yet more abundant measure. In proportion, also, as the Cyrillic interpretation of the Chalcedonian creed and Monophysitism tended to em- phasize the divine in Christ at the expense of the human, and therefore, however unintentionally, put Him afar from men, she appeared a winsome sympathizer with our humanity. In a measure, she took the place of her Son, as mediator be- tween God and man. The roots of angel-worship are to be found in apostolic times,* yet though made much of in certain Gnostic systems, and playing a great role, for instance, in the speculations of an Origen, angels were not conspicuously objects of Christian reverence till late in the fourth century. They were always far less definite and graspable by the common mind than the martyrs. Reverence for angels was given great furtherance by the Neo-Platonic Christian mystic work composed in the last quarter of the fifth century in the name of Dionysius the Areopagite,^ and called that of Pseudo-Dionysius. Of all angelic beings, the Archangel Michael was the most honored. A church in commemoration of him was built a few miles from Constantinople by Constantine, and one existed in Rome early in the fifth century. When the celebration of his festival on Michaelmas, September 29 — one of the most popular of medi- aeval feast-days in the West — was instituted, is uncertain. It has already been pointed out that reverence for relics 1 Col 218. 2 Ads 17". 172 ANGELS, RELICS, PICTURES began early. By the fourth century It was being developed to an enormous extent, and included not merely the mortal remains of martyrs and saints, but all manner of articles asso- ciated, it was believed, with Christ, the Apostles, and the heroes of the church. Their wide-spread use is illustrated by the statute of the Seventh General Council (787): "If any bishop from this time forward is found consecrating a temple without holy relics, he shall be deposed as a transgressor of the ecclesiastical traditions."^ Closely connected with this reverence for relics was the valuation placed on pilgrimages to places where they were preserved, and above all to the Holy Land, or to Rome. Reverence for pictures was slower in gaining a foothold. It seemed too positively connected with the ancient idolatry. By the time of Cyril of Alexandria, however, it was rapidly spreading in the Eastern Church, where it became, if anything, more prevalent than in the West. The struggles ending in the full authorization of pictures by the Seventh General Council have already been narrated {aiite, p. 163). Christian feeling was that representation on a flat surface only, paintings, and mosaics, not statues, should be allowed, at least in the interior of churches, and this remains the custom of the Greek Church to the present, though this restriction was not a matter of church law. This Christianity of the second rank profoundly affected the life of the people, but it had also its heartiest supporters in the monks, and it was furthered rather than resisted by the great leaders of the church, certainly after the middle of the fifth century. It undoubtedly made the way from heathenism to Christianity easier for thousands, but it largely heathenized the church itself. SECTION XV. SOME WESTERN CHARACTERISTICS While East and West shared in the theological development already outlined, and Western influences contributed much to the official decisions in the Arian and Christological contro- versies, there was a very appreciable difference in the weight of theological interest in the two portions of the empire. The West produced no really conspicuous theological leader between ^ Canon 7. WESTERN CHARACTERISTICS 173 Cyprian (d. 258) and Ambrose (340?-397). Even Hilary of Poitiers (300 ?-367) was not suflSciently eminent as an original thinker to make a real exception. Both Hilary and Ambrose were devoted students of the Greek Fathers — the latter espe- cially of the great Cappadocians. Though Tertullian was per- sonally discredited by his Montanism, his influence lived on in the greatly valued Cyprian. While, therefore, Greek elements entered largely into Western thinking, it developed its own pe- culiarities. The western part of the empire was disposed, like Tertullian, to view Christianity under judicial rather than, like the East, under philosophical aspects. Its thought of the Gospel was that primarily of a new law. While the West did not deny the Eastern conception that salvation is a making divine and immortal of our sinful mortality, that conception was too ab- stract for it readily to grasp. Its own thought was that sal- vation is getting right with God. Hence, in Tertullian, Cyprian, and Ambrose there is a deeper sense of sin, and a clearer con- ception of grace than in the East. Religion in the West had a closer relation to the acts of every-day life than in the East. It was more a forgiveness of definitely recognized evil acts, and less an abstract transformation of nature, than in the East — more an overcoming of sin, and less a rescue from earthiness and death. In the West, through the teaching of Tertullian, Cyprian, and Ambrose, sin was traced to an inherited vitiation of human nature in a way that had no corresponding parallel in the East. There can be no doubt, also, that this Western estimate of sin and grace, imperfectly worked out though it yet was, combined with the firmer ecclesiastical organization of the West, gave the Western Church a stronger control of the daily life of the people than was achieved by that of the East. All these Western peculiarities were to come to their full fruition in the work of Augustine. SECTION XVI. JEROME Jerome was the ablest scholar that the ancient Western Church could boast. Born about 340 in Strido in Dalmatia, he studied in Rome, where he was baptized by Pope Liberius in 360. Aquileia he made his headquarters for a while, where he became the friend of Rufinus (?-410), the translator of 174 JEROME Origen, like Jerome to be a supporter of monasticism and a monk in Palestine, but with whom he was to quarrel over Origen's orthodoxy. Jerome had a restless desire to know the scholarly and religious world. From 36(3 to 370 he visited the cities of Gaul. The next three years saw him again in Aquileia. Then came a journey through the Orient to Antioch, where he was overtaken with a severe illness in which he believed Christ Himself appeared and reproached him for devotion to the classics. He now turned to the Scriptures, studying Hebrew, and living as a hermit from 373 to 379, not far from Antioch. Ordained a presbyter in Antioch, in 379, he studied in Constan- tinople under Gregory Nazianzus. The year 382 saw him in Rome, where he won the hearty support of Pope Damasus (366-384), and preached in season and out of season the merits of the monastic life. Soon he had a large following, especially among Roman women of position ; but also much enmity, even among the clergy, for monasticism was not as yet popular in the West, and Jerome himself was one of the most vindictive of disputants. The death of Damasus made Jerome's position so uncomfortable in Rome that he retired, in 385, to Antioch, whither a number of his Roman converts to monastic celibacy, led by Paula and her daughter, Eustochium, soon followed him. With them he journeyed through Palestine and to the chief monastic establishments of Egypt, returning to Bethlehem in 386, where Paula built nunneries and a monastery for men. Here, as head of the monastery, Jerome made his headquarters till his death, in 420. Jerome's best use of his unquestionable learning was as a translator of the Scriptures. The older Latin versions were crude, and had fallen into much corruption. Pope Damasus proposed to Jerome a revision. That he completed for the New Testament about 388. The Old Testament he then trans- lated in Bethlehem, with the aid of Jewish friends. It is a proof of Jerome's soundness of scholarship that, in spite even of the wishes of Augustine, he went back of the Septuagint to the Hebrew. The result of Jerome's work was the Vulgate, still in use in the Roman Church. It is his best monument. Jerome had, also, no small deserts as a historian. He con- tirmed the Chronicle of Eusebius. His De Viris Inlustrihus is a biograjjhical dictionary of Cliristian writers to and including himself. He was an abundant commentator on the Scriptures. AUGUSTINE'S YOUTH 175 He urged by treatise and by letter the advantages of celibacy and of the monastic hfe. As a theologian he had little that was original to offer. He was an impassioned defender of tra- dition and of Western popular usage. A controversialist who loved disputation, he attacked opponents of asceticism like Jovinianus, critics of relic-reverence like Vigilantius, and those who, like Helvidius, held that Mary had other children than our Lord. He condemned Origen, whom he had once admired. He wrote in support of Augustine against the Pelagians. In these controversial writings Jerome's littleness of spirit is often painfully manifest. Though deserving to be reckoned, as he is by the Roman Church, one of its "Doctors," by reason of the greatness of his learning and the use which he made of it, the title "saint" seems more a tribute to the scholar than to the man. SECTION XVII. AUGUSTINE In Augustine the ancient church reached its highest religious attainment since apostolic times. Though his influence in the East was to be relatively slight, owing to the nature of the questions with which he was primarily concerned, all Western Christianity was to become his debtor. Such superiority as W^estern religious life came to possess over that of the East was primarily his bequest to it. He was to be the father of much that was most characteristic in mediaeval Roman Catholicism. He was to be the spiritual ancestor, no less, of much in the Reformation. His theology, though buttressed by the Scrip- tures, philosophy, and ecclesiastical tradition, was so largely rooted in his own experience as to render his story more than usually the interpretation of the man. Africa gave three great leaders to Latin Christianity, Ter- tullian, Cyprian, and Augustine. Augustine was born in Tagaste, in Numidia, now Suk Ahras in the Department of Constantine in Algeria, on November 13, 354. His father, Patricius, was a heathen of good position but of small property, an easy-going, worldly character, who did not embrace Chris- tianity till near the end of life. His mother, Monnica, was a Christian woman of high worth, eagerly ambitious for her son, though the full radiance of her Christian life was to be mani- fested in her later years, developed through Ambrose and 176 AUGUSTINE'S YOUTH Augustine himself. In Augustine there were two natures, one passionate and sensuous, the other eagerly high-minded and truth-seeking. It may not be wrong to say that father and mother were reflected in him. From Tagaste he was sent for the sake of schooling to the neighboring INIadaura, and thence to Carthage, where he pursued the study of rhetoric. Here, when about seventeen, he took a concubine, to whom he was to hold for at least fourteen years, and to them a son, Adeo- datus, whom he dearly loved, was born in 372. If the sensuous Augustine was thus early aroused, the truth-seeking Augustine was speedily awakened. When nineteen, the study of Cicero's now almost completely lost Hortensius "changed my affec- tions, and turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord." ^ This im- perfect conversion caused Augustine to desire to seek truth as that alone of value. He began to study the Scriptures, " but they appeared to me unworthy to be compared with the dig- nity of Cicero." ^ He now turned for spiritual and intellectual comfort to the syncretistic, dualistic system known as Mani- chseism {ante, p. 107) . He was willing to pray " Grant me chas- tity and continence, but not yet." ^ For nine years Augustine remained a Manichsean, living partly in Carthage and partly in Tagaste, engaged in study and teaching. He was crowned at Carthage for a theatrical poem.^ He gathered friends about him, of whom Alypius was to prove the closest. As he went on he began to doubt the intellectual and moral adequacy of Manichseism. His associates urged him to meet the highly respected Manichsean leader, Faustus. The inadequacy of Faustus's expositions completed his mental disillusion. Though he remained outwardly a Manichsean, Augustine was now inwardly a sceptic. By the advice of Man- ichsean friends Augustine removed to Rome in 383, and by their aid, in 384, he obtained from the prefect, Symmachus, a gov- ernment appointment as teacher of rhetoric in Milan — then the Western capital of the empire. Here in Milan, Augustine came under the powerful preach- ing of Ambrose, whom he heard as an illustration of pulpit eloquence rather than with approval of the message, since he was now under the sway of the sceptical philosophy of the New Academy. Here Monnica and Alypius joined him. At * Conjessions, 3^. ^ Ibid., 3^. AUGUSTINE'S CONVERSION 177 his mother's wish he now became betrothed as befitted his station in life, though marriage was postponed on account of the youth of the woman. He dismissed regretfully his 'faith- ful concubine and entered on an even less creditable relation with another.^ It was the lowest point of his moral life. At this juncture Augustine came in contact with Neo-Platonism, {ante, p. 106), through the translations of Victorinus. It was almost a revelation to him. Instead of the materialism and dualism of Manichseism, he now saw in the spiritual world the only real world, and in God the source not only of all good, but of all reality. Evil was no positive existence, as with the Manichseans. It was negative, a lack of good, an alienation of the will from God. To know God is the highest of blessings. This new philosophy, which always colored Augustine's teach- ings, made it possible for him to accept Christianity. He was impressed by the authority of the church, as a hearer of Ambrose might well have been. As he said later, "I should not believe the Gospel except as moved by the authority of the Catholic Church." 2 A crisis in Augustine's experience was now at hand. He had never felt more painfully the cleft between his ideals and his conduct. He was impressed by learning of the Christian profession made in old age, some years before, by the Neo- Platonist Victorinus, whose writings had so recently influenced him.^ A travelled African, Pontitianus, told him and Alypius of the monastic life of Egypt. He was filled with shame that ignorant men like these monks could put away temptations which he, a man of learning, felt powerless to resist.^ Over- come with self-condemnation, he rushed into the garden and there heard the voice of a child from a neighboring house, say- ing : "Take up and read." He reached for a copy of the epistles that he had been reading, and his eyes fell on the words : "Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wanton- ness, not in strife and envying ; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof." ^ From that moment Augustine had the peace of mind and the sense of divine power to overcome his sins which he had thus far sought in vain. It may be that it was, as it ^ Confessions, 6^^. ^ Against the Epistle of Manichceus, 5; Ayer, p. 455. 3 Confessions, 8^ ; Ayer, pp. 431-433. * Confessions, 8*. ^Romans IS^^. ^*; Confessions, S^-; Ayer, pp. 435-437. 178 AUGUSTLXE'S LATER LIFE has been called, a conversion to monasticism. If so, that was but its outward form. In its essence it was a fundamental Christian transformation of nature. Augustine's conversion occurred in the late summer of 386. He resigned his professorship partly on account of illness, and now retired with his friends to the estate named Cassisiacum, to await baptism. He was far from being the master in the- ology as yet. His most characteristic tenets were undeveloped. He was still primarily a Christianized Neo-Platonist ; but the type of his piety was already determined. At Cassisiacum the friends engaged in philosophical discussion, and Augustine wrote some of the earliest of his treatises. At the Easter season of 387 he was baptized, with Adeodatus and Alj^jius, by Am- brose in Milan. Augustine now left Milan for his birthplace. On the journey IMonnica died in Ostia. The story of her death, as told by Augustme, is one of the noblest monuments of ancient Christian literature.^ His plans thus changed, he lived for some months in Rome, but by the autumn of 388 was once more in Tagaste. Here he dwelt with a group of friends, busied in studies much as at Cassisiacum. During this period m Tagaste his brilliant son, Adeodatus, died. Augustine thought to found a monastery, and to further this project went to Hippo, near the modern Bona, in Algeria, early in 39L There he was ordained to the priesthood, almost forcibly. Four years later he was ordained colleague-bishop of Hippo. When his aged associate, Valerius, died is unknown, but Augus- tine probably soon had full episcopal charge. In Hippo he founded the first monastery in that portion of Africa, and made it also a training-school for the clergy. He died on August 28, 430, during the siege of Hippo by the Vandals. Almost from the time of his baptism Augustine wrote against the ISIanichseans. With his entrance on the ministry, and es- pecially as bishop, he was brought into conflict with the Dona- tists (ante, p. 113), then wide-spread in northern Africa. This discussion led Augustine to a full consideration of the church, its nature and its authority. By the early years of his episco- pate he had reached his characteristic opinions on sin and grace. They were not the product of the great Pelagian con- troversy which occupied much of his strength from 412 onward, though that struggle clarified their expression. » Confessions, 9^'^-^K AUGUSTINE'S THOUGHT OF GOD 179 The secret of much of Augustine's influence lay in his mys- tical piety. Its fullest expression, though ever;y'where to be found in his works, is perhaps in the remarkable Confessions, written about 400, in which he gave an account of his experi- ences to his conversion. No other similar spiritual autobi- ography was written in the ancient church, and few at any period in church history. It has always stood a classic of re- ligious experience. "Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee" (1^). "It is good, then, for me to cleave unto God, for if I remain not in Him, neither shall I in myself; but He, remaining in Himself, reneweth all things. And Thou art the Lord my God, since Thou standest not in need of my goodness" (7^^). "I sought a way of acquiring strength sufficient to enjoy Thee; but I found it not until I embraced that ' Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus,' 'who is over all God blessed for- ever' calling me" (7^^). "My whole hope is only in Thy ex- ceeding great mercy. Give what Thou commandest, and command what Thou wilt" (lO^^). "I will love Thee, O Lord, and thank Thee, and confess unto Thy name, because Thou hast put away from me these so wicked and nefarious acts of mine. To Thy grace I attribute it, and to Thy mercy, that Thou hast melted away my sin as it were ice" (2^). Here is a deeper note of personal devotion than the church had heard since Paul, and the conception of religion as a vital relationship to the living God was one the influence of which was to be permanent, even if often but partially comprehended. Augustine's first thought of God was thus always one of per- sonal connection with a being in whom man's only real satisfac- tion or good is to be found ; but when he thought of God philo- sophically, it was in terms borrowed from Neo-Platonism. God is simple, absolute being, as distinguished from all created things which are manifold and variable. He is the basis and source of all that really exists. This conception led Augustine to em- phasize the divine unity, even when treating of the Trinity. His doctrine he set forth in his great work On the Trinity. It be- came determinative henceforth of Western thinking. " Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God, alone, great, omnipotent, good, just, merciful, creator of all things visible and invisible." ^ " Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, of one and the same substance, 1 Tnnity, 7 : 6". 180 • AUGUSTINE'S THOUGHT OF GOD God the creator, the omnipotent Trinity, work indivisibly " (4^^). "Neither three Gods, nor three goods, but one God, good, om- nipotent, the Trinity itself."^ Tertullian, Origen, and Atha- nasius had taught the subordination of the Son and Spirit to the Father. Augustine so emphasized the unity as to teach the full equality of the "persons." "There is so great an equality in that Trinity, that not only the Father is not greater than the Son, as regards divinity, but neither are the Father and the Son together greater than the Holy Spirit." ^ Augustine was not satisfied with the distinction "persons"; but it was consecrated by usage, and he could find nothing more fitting: " When it is asked, what are the three ? human language labors under great poverty of speech. Yet we say, three 'persons,' not in order to express it, but in order not to be silent." ^ It is evident that, though Augustine held firmly to the ecclesias- tical tradition, his own inclinations, and his Neo-Platonic phi- losophy inclined toward the Modalistic Monarchian position. It would, however, be wholly unjust to call him a Modalist. He attempted to illustrate the Trinity by many comparisons, such as memory, understanding, will/ or the even more famous lover, loved, and love.^ This sense of unity and equality made Augustine hold that "God the Father alone is He from whom the Word is born, and from whom the Holy Spirit principally proceeds. And therefore I have added the word principally, because we find that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Son also."^ Eastern remains of subordinationism and feeling that the Father is the sole source of all, taught that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father alone, but Augustine had prepared the way for that filioque, which, acknowledged in Spain, at the Third Council of Toledo, in 589, as a part of the so-called Nicene creed, spread over the West, and remains to this day a dividing issue between the Greek and Latin Churches. In the incarnation Augustine emphasized the human as strongly as the divine. " Christ Jesus, the Son of God, is both God and man ; God before all worlds ; man in our world. . . . Wherefore, so far as He is God, He and the Father are one ; so far as He is man, the Father is greater than He." ^ He is the 1 Trinity, 8, Preface. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid., 59. « Ibid., W\ 6 Ibid., 92. 6 Ibid., 15". "* Enchiridion, 35. MAN'S FALLEN STATE 181 only mediator between God and man, through whom alone there is forgiveness of sins. "It [Adam's sin] cannot be pardoned and blotted out except through the ope mediator between God and man, the man, Christ Jesus." ^ Christ's death is the basis of that remission. As to the exact significance of that death, Augustine had not thought to consistent clearness. He viewed it sometimes as a sacrifice to God, sometimes as an endurance of our punishment in our stead, and sometimes as a ransom by which men are freed from the power of the devil. To a degree not to be found in the Greek theologians, Augustine laid stress on the significance of the humble life of Jesus. That humility was in vivid contrast to the pride which was the characteristic note in the sin of Adam. It is an example to men. "The true mediator, whom in Thy secret mercy Thou hast pointed out to the humble, and didst send, that by His example also they might learn the same humility." ^ Man, according to Augustine, was created good and upright, possessed of free will, endowed with the possibility of not sin- ning and of immortality.^ There was no discord in his nature. He was happy and in communion with God.^ From this state Adam fell by sin, the essence of which was pride.^ Its consequence was the loss of good.^ God's grace was forfeited, the soul died, since it was forsaken of God.^ The body, no longer controlled by the soul, came under the dominion of "concupiscence," of which the worst and most characteristic manifestation is lust. Adam fell into a state of total and hope- less ruin, of which the proper ending is eternal death.^ This sin and its consequences involved all the human race ; " for we were all in that one man [Adam] when we were all that man who fell into sin." ^ "The Apostle, however, has declared concerning the first man that 'in him all have sinned.'"^" Not only were all men sinners in Adam, but their sinful state is made worse since all are born of "concupiscence." ^^ The result is that the whole human race, even to the youngest in- fant is a "mass of perdition," ^^ and as such deserves the wrath of God. From this hopeless state of original sin "no one, no, ^ Enchiridion, 48. ^ Confessions, 10^'. ' Rebuke and Grace, 33. ^ City of God, 142^. ^ Nature and Grace, 33. ^ Enchiridion, 11. ^ City of God, 13^. » Ibid., U's. 9 Ibid., 13" ; Ayer, p. 439. ^^ Romans S^^ ; Forgiveness of Sins, 1". ^^ Marriage, l^'. ^ Original Sin, 34. 182 GRACE AND SALVATION not one, has been delivered, or is being delivered, or ever will be delivered, except by the grace of the Redeemer." ' vSalvation comes by God's grace, which is wholly undeserved, and wholly free. "Wages is paid as a recompense for mili- tary service. It is not a gift; wherefore he says 'the wages of sin is death, ' to show that death was not inflicted undeservedly, but as the due recompense of sin. But a gift, unless it is wholly unearned, is not a gift at all. We are to understand, then, that man's good deserts are themselves the gift of God, so that when these obtain the recompense of eternal life, it is simply grace given for grace." ^ This grace comes to those to whom God chooses to send it. He therefore predestinates whom He will, "to punishment and to salvation." ^ The number of each class is fixed. ^ Augustine had held, in the period immediately fol- lowing his conversion, that it is in man's power to accept or reject grace, but even before the Pelagian controversy, he had come to the conclusion that grace is irresistible. The effect of this saving grace is twofold. Faith is instilled, and sins, both original and personal, are forgiven at baptism: "The faith by which we are Christians is the gift of God." ^ As such it is immediate justification. But grace does much more. As with Tertullian (ajite, p. 69), it is the infusion of love by the Holy Spirit. It frees the enslaved will to choose that which is pleas- ing to God, "not only in order that they may know, by the manifestation of that grace, what should be done, but more- over in order that, by its enabling, they may do with love what they know." ^ It is a gradual transformation of nature, a sanctification. Through us, God does good works, which He rewards as if they were men's own and to which He ascribes merit. No man can be sure of his salvation in this life. He may have grace now, but, unless God adds the gift of persever- ance, he '^ill not maintain it to the end.^ It would seem that Augustine may have been led to this conclusion largely by the doctrine of baptismal regeneration. It is evident that if men receive grace at baptism, many do not keep it. This doctrine of grace was coupled in Augustine with a high valuation of the visible Catholic Church, as that only in which the true infusion of love by the Holy Spirit may be found. 1 Original Sin, 34 « Enchiridion, 107. = jf,j^^ joo ; Ayer, p. 442. * Ayer, p. 442. * Predestination, 3. * Rebuke and Grace, 3. ^ Gift of Perseverance, 1. THE CHURCH AND THE SACRAMENTS 183 Replying to the Donatists, who were thoroughly "orthodox" in doctrine and organization, and yet rejected the Catholic Church as impure, because allowing the sacraments to be ad- ministered by men who may have been guilty of "deadly" sins, Augustine said : "Those are wanting in God's love who do not care for the unity of the Church ; and consequently we are right in understanding that the Holy Spirit may be said not to be received except in the Catholic Church . . . whatever, therefore, may be received by heretics and schismatics, the charity which covereth the multitude of sins is the especial gift of Catholic unity." ^ Sacraments are the work of God, not of men. They do not, therefore, depend on the character of the administrator. Hence baptism or regular ordination need not be repeated on entering the Catholic Church. But while those outside have thus the true and valid form of the sacraments, it is only in the Catholic Church that the sacra- ments attain their appropriate fruition, for there only can that love be found to which they witness, and which is of the essence of the Christian life. Even in the Catholic Church, not all are in the way of salvation. That is a mixed company, of good and bad. "It is not by different baptisms, but by the same, that good Catholics are saved, and bad Catholics or heretics perish." ^ To Augustine, sacraments include all the holy usages and rites of the churdi. They are the visible signs of the sacred things which they signify. Thus, he names as sacraments, exorcism, ordination, marriage, and even the salt given to catechumens. Baptism and the Lord's Supper are pre-eminently sacraments. By the sacraments the church is knit together. " There can be no religious society, whether the religion be true or false, without some sacrament or visible symbol to serve as a bond of un- ion."^ Furthermore, the sacraments are necessary for salvation. "The churches of Christ maintain it to be an inherent principle, that without baptism and partaking of the Supper of the Lord it is impossible for any man to attain either to the kingdom of God or to salvation and everlasting life.""* Yet, by reason of his doctrines of grace and predestination, the sacraments for Augustine are signs of spiritual realities, rather than those realities themselves. They are essential; but the verities to which they witness are, whenever received, the work of divine » Baptism, 3'^- ^K ^ Ibid., 5^8. 39. * Reply to Faustus,. 19". * Forgiveness of Sins, V*. 1S4 THE CITY OF GOD grace. He who does not " obstruct faith " may expect, however, to receive the benefit of the sacrament.^ The problem was not yet wrought out as it was to be in the Middle Ages; but Augus- tine may be called the father of the doctrine of the sacraments in the Western Church. Augustine's greatest treatise was his City of God, begun in 412, in the dark days after the capture of Rome by Alaric, and finished about 426. It was his philosophy of history, and his defense of Christianity against the heathen charge that neg- lect of the old gods under whom Rome had grown great was the cause of its downfall. He showed that the worship of the old gods had neither given Rome strength, virtue, nor assurance of a happy future life. The loss of the old gods, that the wor- ship of the one true God should come, was not a loss, but a great gain. Augustine then discusses the creation and the origin and consequences of evil. That brings him to his great theory of history. Since the first rebellion against God "two cities have been forced by two loves : the earthly by love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self."^ These had their rep- resentatives in Cain and Abel. Of the City of God, all have been members who have confessed themselves strangers and pilgrims on the earth. The Earthly City has as its highest representatives heathen Babylon and Rome, but all other civil states are its embodiment. It is a relative good. To it peace and civil order are due. In a world of sin, though having love of self as its principle, it represses disorder and secures to each his own. But it must pass away as the City of God grows. Those who make up the City of God are the elect whom God has chosen to salvation. These are now in the visible church, though not all in that church are elect. "Therefore the church even now is the kingdom of Christ, and the kingdom of heaven. Accordingly, even now His saints reign with Him, though otherwise than as they shall reign hereafter; and yet, though the tares grow in the church along with the wheat, they do not reign with Him." ^ The visible, hierarchically organ- ized church it is, therefore, that is the City of God, and must more and more rule the world. In this teaching of Augustine lay much of the philosophic basis of the theory of the mediaeval papacy. 1 Letters, 9S" ; Ayer, p. 450. ^ city qf God, 1428, 3 75^^.^ 20". PELAGIUS'S TEACHINGS 185 It is evident that, clear as was the system of Augustine in many respects, it contained profound contradictions, due to the intermingling of deep religious and Neo-Platonic thoughts and popular ecclesiastical traditionalism. Thus, he taught a predestination in which God sends grace to whom He \vill, yet he confined salvation to the visible church endowed with a sacramental ecclesiasticism. He approached the distinction made at the Reformation between the visible and the invisi- ble church, without clearly reaching it. His heart piety, also, saw the Christian life as one of personal relation to God in faith and love, yet he taught no less positively a legalistic and monastic asceticism. The INIiddle Ages did not advance in these respects beyond Augustine. It did not reconcile his contradictions. It is by reason of them that most various later movements could draw inspiration from him. SECTION XVIII. THE PELAGIAN CONTROVERSY Augustine's most famous controversy, and that in which his teachings on sin and grace came to clearest expression, was with Pelagius and that teacher's disciples. Pelagius was a British, or perhaps an Irish monk, of excellent repute, much learning, and great moral earnestness, who had settled in Rome about the year 400, when probably well on in years. He seems to have been shocked at the low tone of Roman morals and to have labored earnestly to secure more strenuous ethical stand- ards. Instead of being an innovator, his teaching in many ways represented older views than those of Augustine. With the East generally, and in agreement with many in the West, he held to the freedom of the human will. "If I ought, I can," well expresses his position. His attitude was that of the popu- lar Stoic ethics. " As often as I have to speak of the principles of virtue and a holy life, I am accustomed first of all to call attention to the capacity and character of human nature and to show what it is able to accomplish ; then from this to arouse the feelings of the hearer, that he may strive after different kinds of virtue." ^ He, therefore, denied any original sin in- herited from Adam, and affirmed that all men now have the power not to sin. Like the Stoics generally, he recognized that the mass of men are bad. Adam's sin set them an ill example, 1 Ayer, pp. 458, 459. 186 PELAGIUS'S TEACHINGS which they have been quick to follow. Hence they almost all need to be set right. This is accomplished by justification by faith alone, through baptism, by reason of the work of Christ. No man between Paul and Luther so emphasized justification by faith alone. After baptism, man has full power and duty to keep the divine law. Pelagius won a vigorous follower in the much younger Ccelestius, a lawyer, and possibly a Roman though he has been claimed as an Irishman. About 410, the two went to North Africa and called on Augustine in Hippo, without finding him. Pelagius then journeyed to the East, while Ccelestius remained in Carthage and sought to be ordained a presbyter by Bishop Aurelius. That bishop now received from Paulinus, a deacon of Milan, a letter charging Ccelestius with six errors. (1) " Adam was made mortal and would have died whether he had sinned or had not sinned. (2) The sin of Adam injured him- self alone, and not the human race. (3) New-born children are in that state in which Adam was before his fall. (4) Neither by the death and sin of Adam does the whole race die, nor by the resurrection of Christ does the whole race rise. (5) The law leads to the kingdom of heaven as well as the Gospel. (6) Even before the coming of the Lord there were men with- out sin." ^ This was an unfriendly statement, but Ccelestius did not reject it ; and it probably represents his views, which may have been somewhat more radical than those of Pelagius. An advisory synod in Carthage, in 411, decided against his ordination. Ccelestius then journeyed to Ephesus, , where he apparently received the desired consecration. Augustine had not been present in Carthage, but he soon heard of tlie matter, and at once began his long-continued literary polemic against Pelagianism, which he found had many supporters. Augustine's own religious experience was deeply wounded. He believed that he had been saved by irresistible divine grace from sins which he could never have overcome by his own strength. He held Pelagius in error as denying original sin, rejecting salvation by infused grace, and affirming human power to live without sin. Pelagius did not reject grace, })ut to him grace was remission of sins in baptism and general divine teaching. To Augustine the main work of grace was that infusion of love by which character is gradually ^ Ayer, p. 461. AUGUSTINE AGAINST PELAGIUS 187 transformed. Pelaglus found support in the East. Early in 415, Augustine sent Orosius to Jerome, then in Palestine, to interest him for the Augustinian cause. By Jerome, Pelagius was accused before Bishop John of Jerusalem, but was approved by the bishop ; and before the year was out, a synod held in Diospolis (Lydda in Palestine) declared Pelagius orthodox. In this situation Augustine and his friends caused two North African synods to be held in 416, one for its local district in Carthage and the other for Numidia in Mileve. These con- demned the Pelagian opinions and appealed to Pope Innocent I (402-417) for confirmation. Innocent was undoubtedly pleased at this recognition of papal authority, and did as the African synods wished. Innocent died shortly after, and was succeeded by Zosimus (417-418), a Greek, and therefore nat- urally no special sympathizer with the distinctive Augustinian positions. To Zosimus, Coelestius now appealed in person. The new Pope declared that the African synods had been too hasty, and seems to have regarded Coelestius as orthodox. A new synod met in Carthage early in 418, but the Africans made a more effective move. In April, 418, at their instance the Western Emperor, Honorius, issued a rescript condemning Pelagianism and ordering the exile of its adherents. In May a large council was held in Carthage, which held that Adam became mortal by sin, that children should be baptized for the remission of original sin, that grace was necessary for right living, and that sinlessness is impossible in this life. Moved by these actions, Zosimus now issued a circular letter condemn- ing Pelagius and Coelestius. Pelagius now disappears. He probably died before 420. A new and able champion of his opinions now appeared in the person of Bishop Julian of Eclanum, in southern Italy. An edict of the Emperor Honorius, in 419, required the bishops of the West to subscribe a condemnation of Pelagius and Coelestius. Julian and eighteen others in Italy refused. Several of them were driven into exile and sought refuge in the East. In Julian, Augustine found an able opponent, and Pelagianism its chief systematizer ; but a defender who was much more of a ration- alist than Pelagius. About 429 Julian and Coelestius found some support from Nestorius in Constantinople, though Nes- torius was not a Pelagian. This favor worked to Nestorius's disadvantage in his own troubles, and together with the wish 188 DISSENT FROM AUGUSTINE of the Pope led to the condemnation of Pelagianism by the so-called Third General Council in Ephesus in 431 (ante, p. 148). Pelagianism, thus officially rejected in the West and the East, nevertheless lived on in less extreme forms, and has al- ways represented a tendency in the thinking of the church. SECTION XIX. SEMI-PELAGIANISM Augustine's fame as the great teacher of the Western Church was secure even before his death in 430. By no means all ac- cepted, however, the more peculiar portions of his theology, even where Pelagianism was definitely rejected. Thus, Jerome ascribed to the human will a share in conversion, and had no thought of an irresistible divine grace, though deeming grace essential to salvation. Northern Africa, which had led the W^estern Church intellectually since the time of Tertullian, was now devastated by the Vandals. Its pre-eminence in leader- ship now passed to southern France, and it was there that the chief controversy over Augustinian principles arose. John Cassianus, probably from Gaul, but who had journeyed to the East, visited Egj'pt, and had served as deacon under Chrys- ostom, founded a monastery and a nunnery in Marseilles about 415, and died there about 435. Not far from 429 he wrote his Collationes, in the form of conversations with Egyptian monks. In his opinion "the will always remains free in man, and it can either neglect or delight in the grace of God." ^ In 434 Vincent, a monk of Lerins, wrote a Commonitorium, in which, without attacking Augustine by name, his design was to do so really, by representing Augustine's teachings on grace and predestination as novelties without support in Catholic tradition. "Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself all possible care should be taken that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always and by all." ^ These men and their associates were called in the sixteenth century "Semi-Pelagians," though Semi-Augustinians would be more correct, since they agreed in most points with Augustine, though rejecting his essential doctrines of predestination and irresistible grace. These were earnest men who sincerely feared that Augustine's doctrines would cut the nerve of all human 1 12 ; Ayer, p. 469. ' Qiiod uhique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus, 2* ; Ayer, p. 471. THE SYNOD OF ORANGE 189 effort after righteousness of life, especially that righteousness as sought in monasticism. Predestination and irresistible grace seemed to deny human responsibility. This dissent from Augustine appeared in still more positive form in the writings of Faustus, abbot of Lerins, and afterward bishop of Riez. In his treatise on Grace, of about 474, he recognized original sin, but held that men still have "the pos- sibility of striving for salvation." Grace is the divine promise and warning which inclines the weakened but still free will to choose the right rather than, as with Augustine, an inward transforming power. God foresees what men will do with the invitations of the Gospel. He does not predestinate them. Though Faustus rejected Pelagius, he really stood closer to him than to Augustine. A more Augustinian direction was given to the thought of southern France by the able and devoted Csesarius (469?-542), for a time a monk of Lerins, and from 502 onward bishop of Aries. In 529 he held a little synod in Orange, the canons of which received a much larger significance because approved by Pope Boniface II (530-532). They practically ended the Semi-Pelagian controversy, though Semi-Pelagian positions have always largely been maintained in the church.^ It was affirmed by this synod that man is not only under original sin, but has lost all power to turn to God, so that "it is brought about by the infusion of the Holy Spirit and His operation in us that we wish to be set free." It is " by the free gift of grace, that is, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit," that we have "the desire of believing" and "come to the birth of holy bap- tism." All good m man is the work of God. Thus many of the main thoughts of Augustine were approved ; but with a decided weakening of emphasis. The irresistibility of grace is nowhere affirmed. On the contrary, those in error are said to "resist that same Holy Spirit." Predestination to evil is condemned. But, most marked of all, the reception of grace is so bouhd to baptism that the sacramental quality of grace and the merit of good works are put in the foreground. "We also believe this to be according to the Catholic faith, that grace having been received in baptism, all who have been baptized, can and ought, by the aid and support of Christ, to perform those things which belong to the salvation of the soul, if they 1 Ayer, pp. 472-476. 190 GREGORY THE GREAT labor faithfully." ^ Augustinianism was approved, but with undoubted modification in the direction of popular "Catholic" religious conceptions. Its sharp points were blunted. SECTION XX. GREGORY THE GREAT The tendencies toward a blunted, ecclesiastically and sacra- mentally emphasized presentation of Augustinianism, which have already been noted, characterized the thinking of Gregory the Great, the interpreter of Augustine to the Middle Ages. A teacher of little originality, he presented the theological sys- tem already developed in the West, in essential harmony with the popular Christianity of his age. His influence was thus far-reaching. He is reckoned with Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome one of the Doctors of the Latin Church, In adminis- trative abilities and achievements Gregory was one of the great- est of the Popes, and Latin Christianity generally had in him a leader of broad vision and permanent accomplishment. Gregory was born in Rome of a senatorial Christian family about 540. Before 573 he was made prefect, or governor, of the city by the Emperor Justin II. The monastic life attracted him from civil distinctions, and by 574 he had devoted his wealth to the founding of monasteries and to the poor, and become a member of the monastery of St. Andrew in what had formerly been his own home on the Cselian hill. Gregory always retained his interest in monasticism, and did much for the regulation and extension of the monastic life. His own temperament was too active for the cloister, and in 579 Pope Pelagius II (579-590) sent him as papal ambassador to the court of Constantinople, where he served with ability, though, curiously, without acquiring a knowledge of Greek. About 586 he was once more in Rome as the abbot of St. Andrew. In 590 he was chosen Pope, being the first monk to attain that office. He died on March 12, 604. The time of Gregory's papacy was propitious for an able Pope. The papacy, which had risen high under Innocent I (402-417) and Leo I (440-401), had sunk in power after Jus- tinian had conquered the Ostrogoths and restored the imperial authority in Italy. Since 568, however, the control of the Emperors in Italy had more and more waned before the Lom- * Ayer, p. 475. GREGORY THE GREAT 101 bards, who threatened Rome Itself. Though nominally sub- ject to the Emperor, Gregory was the real leader against Lom- bard aggression. He raised troops, defended Rome by force and by tribute, even made a peace with the Lombards on his own authority, and succeeded, after infinite effort and con- fused struggles both with the Lombards and the imperial rep- resentatives, in keeping Rome unconquered throughout his pontificate. He was the strongest man in Italy, and must have seemed to the Romans and to the Lombards alike far more a real sovereign than the distant and feeble Emperor. The support of the papacy as well as the source of much of the food of Rome was in its large estates, the Patrimony of Peter, in Sicily, Italy, and even in southern France and north- ern Africa. Of these Gregory showed himself an energetic but kindly landlord. Their management took much of his atten- tion. Their revenues increased, and Gregory employed this income liberally not only in the maintenance of the clergy and public worship, and in the defense of Rome, but in charitable foundations and good works of all kinds. Gregory was convinced that "to all who know the Gospel it is apparent that by the Lord's voice the care of the whole church was committed to the holy Apostle and prince of all the Apostles, Peter." ^ He would exercise a jurisdiction over the church as Peter's successor. As such, he protested against certain acts of ecclesiastical discipline inflicted by the patriarch of Constantinople, John the Faster; and announced that he would receive an appeal. In the acts sent for his inspection Gregory found John described as "universal bishop." Against this claim for Constantinople he raised vigorous protest.^ His own practice was the employment of the title still borne by the Roman bishops, "servant of the servants of God." He exer- cised judicial authority with greater or less success in the affairs of the churches of Ravenna and Illyria. He attempted to interfere in the almost independent life of the church of France, re-establishing the papal vicariate in Aries, in 595, coming into friendly relations with the Prankish court, and at- tempting to remove abuses in French ecclesiastical adminis- tration.^ Here his success was small. With some good for- tune he asserted the papal authority in Spain, where the Visigothic sovereign, Recared, had renounced Arianism in 587. 1 Letters, 5^. ^ Ayer, pp. 592-595. ' Ibid., pp. 591-592. 192 GREGORY'S THEOLOGY Even more significant for the future was Gregory's far-reach- ing missionary campaign for the conversion of England, in- augurated in 596, of which some account will be given (p. 198). It not only advanced markedly the cause of Christianity, but was the initiation of a closer relationship of England, and ultimately of Germany, with the papacy than had yet been achieved elsewhere. Nearer home, among the Arian Lom- bards, Gregory inaugurated ultimately successful efforts to turn them to the Catholic faith, especially through the aid of Theodelinda, who was successively the Queen of Kings Authari (584-591) and Agilulf (592-615). Tradition has ascribed to Gregory a great work in the refor- mation of church music — the "Gregorian chants" — and in the development of the Roman liturgy; but the absence of con- temporary reference makes it probable that his services in both these respects were relatively inconspicious. On the other hand, his abilities as a preacher were undoubted. As a writer three of his works maintained high popularity throughout the Middle Ages — his exposition of Job, or Moralia, his treatise on the character and duties of the pastoral ofHce, the Regula Pas- ioralis, and his credulous Dialogues on the Life and Miracles of the Italian Fathers. Gregory's theology is Augustinian, but with another em- phasis than that of Augustine. He developed all of Augus- tine's ecclesiastical tendencies, and that mass of material from popular Christianity which Augustine took up into his system. Miracles, angels, and the devil have an even greater part in Gregory's system than in that of Augustine. While Gregory held that the number of the elect is fixed, and depends upon God, he had no such interest in predestination as had Augus- tine. He often speaks as if predestination is dimply divine foreknowledge. His interests were practical. JNIan is fettered in original sin, the evidence of which is his birth through lust. From this condition he is rescued by the work of Christ, re- ceived in baptism ; but sins committed after baptism must be satisfied. Works of merit wrought by God's assisting grace make satisfaction. "The good that we do is both of God and of ourselves ; of God by prevenient grace, our own by good will following." ^ Penance is the proper reparation for sins after baptism. It involves recognition of the evil of the sin, con- 1 Moralia, 33". PURGATORY 193 tritlon, and satisfaction. The church has many helps for him who would seek merit or exercise penance. Of these the great- est is the Lord's Supper, which Gregory viewed as a repetition of the sacrifice of Christ, available for the living and the dead. There is also the aid of the saints. "Those who trust in no work of their own should run to the protection of the holy martyrs." ^ For those who, while really disciples of Christ, make an insufficient use of these opportunities to achieve works of merit, fail to do penance, or avail themselves inadequately of the helps offered in the church, there remain the purifying fires of purgatory. The thought of purgatory was not new with Gregory. The first faint intimation may be found in Hermas of Rome.^ With Cyprian it is more evident, and he cites in this connec- tion Matt. 5^^.^ Augustine, on the basis of 1 Cor. 3^^'^^, argued that purgatory was not improbable, though he felt no absolute certainty regarding it.^ Csesarius of Aries held more definitely to the conception. To him it was a fact. Gregory now taught purgatory as a matter essential to the faith. "It is to be be- lieved that there is a purgatorial fire before the judgment for certain light sins." ^ Though the Eastern Church held that an intermediate state exists between death and the judgment, and souls can be helped therein by prayer and sacrifice, its conception of purgatory has always been vague compared with that of the West. Thus, in all departments of ecclesiastical activity Gregory stood forth the most conspicuous leader of his time. In him the Western Church of the Middle Ages already exhibited its characteristic traits, whether of doctrine, life, worship, or or- ganization. Its growth was to be in the directions in which Gregory had moved. Contemporary with Gregory in part, and of significance as the transmitter of much of the theological leaning of the an- cient church to the Middle Ages, was Isidore, the head of the Spanish church from about 600 to 636, as bishop of Seville. His Book of Sentences — brief statements of doctrine — was to be the theological text-book of the Western Church till the twelfth century. His Origins or Etymologies embraced well- nigh the round of learning of his age, ecclesiastical and secular, 1 Moralia, 16". 2 Vis., 3^. ^ Letters, 51-5520. * Enchiridion, 69 ; City of God, 2V^ ^ Dialogues, 4". 194 ISIDORE OF SEVILLE and was a main source of knowledge in the Middle Ages of the thought of antiquity. His value as a historian of the Goths and Vandals was great. In him, as the most learned man of his age, all the earlier Middle Ages were to find a teacher of little originality but of remarkable breadth of learning. PERIOD IV. THE MIDDLE AGES TO THE CLOSE OF THE INVESTITURE CONTROVERSY SECTION I. MISSIONS IN THE BRITISH ISLANDS The spread of Arianism among the Germanic tribes, the con- version of the Franks to the Roman faith, and the gradual acceptance of Catholic orthodoxy by the Germanic invaders have already been noted {ante, pp. 129-134). Much, however, remained to be done. There is no more striking proof of the vitahty of the church in the collapsing empire and the opening Middle Ages than the vigor and success with which it under- took the extension of Christianity. Christianity had some foothold in the British Isles before the conversion of Constantine. Bishops of York, London, and probably Lincoln, were present at the Council of Aries in 314. Yet it survived the downfall of the Roman Empire but feebly among the Celtic population, while much of the soil of southern and eastern England was won for heathenism by the Anglo- Saxon invaders. Some slight Christian beginnings were to be found chiefly in the south of Ireland before the time of Patrick; but he so advanced the cause of the Gospel in that island and so organized its Christian institutions, that he deserves the title of the Apostle of Ireland. Born about 389, possibly in southern Wales, Patrick was the son of a deacon and the grandson of a priest. His training was therefore Christian. Seized in a raid about 405, he was for six years a slave in Ireland. Escaped to the Continent, Patrick was for a considerable time an inmate of the monastery of Lerins, off the southern coast of France. In 432 he was or- dained a missionary bishop by Bishop Germanus of Auxerre, and began the work in Ireland which ended with his death in 461. Most of Patrick's missionary labors were in northeastern Ireland, though not without some efforts in the south and wilder west. Few facts survive; but of his zeal there can be no question, and as little of his conspicuous abilities as an or- ganizer under whom the hitherto scattered Christianity of 195 196 IRELAND AND SCOTLAND Ireland was systematized and made great advance. He brought the island in some measure into association with the Continent and with Rome. It seems certain that Patrick introduced the diocesan epis- copate into Ireland; but that institution was soon modified by the clan system of the island, so that there were, instead, many monastic and tribal bishops. Monasticism was favored by Patrick; but the great developer of the peculiar Irish monasticism was Finian of Clonard (470?-548), under whose leadership a strongly missionary and, for the time, a notably learned group of Irish monasteries came into being. The monastic schools of Ireland were justly famous in the sixth and seventh centuries. The glory of this Irish monasticism was its missionary achievement. The beginnings of Christianity in Scotland are very obscure. Ninian is said to have labored there in the fourth century and the early years of the fifth, but of his date and real work little can be said. Kentigern, or Mungo (527?-612?), who spread Christianity in the neighborhood of Glasgow, is almost as dim a figure. It would seem probable that the northern Irish settlers who founded, about 490, the kingdom of Dalriada, em- bracing the modern Argyleshire, came as Christians. The great missionary to Scotland was Columba (521-597), a man closely related with some of the most powerful tribal families of Ireland, and a pupil of Finian of Clonard. Distinguished already as a monk and a founder of monasteries in Ireland, he transferred his labors, in 563, to Scotland, establishing himself with twelve companions on the island of lona or Hy, under the protection of his fellow countryman and relative, the King of Dalriada. There Columba developed a most flourishing monas- tery, and thence he went forth for missionary labors among the Picts, who occupied the northern two-thirds of Scotland. By Columba and his associates the kingdom of the Picts was won for the Gospel. As in Ireland, Christian institutions were largely monastic. There were no dioceses, and even the bishops were under the authority, save in ordination, of Co- lumba, who was a presbyter, and of his successors as abbots of lona. These Irish missionary efforts were carried to northern Eng- land, among the Anglo-Saxons of Northumbria. There, on the island of Lindisfarne, off the extreme northeastern coast of MISSIONARIES OX THE CONTINENT 197 England, a new lona was established by Aidan, a monk from lona, in 634. Thence Christianity was widely spread in the region by him till his death in 651, and afterward by his associates. Nor was the missionary zeal of these Celtic monks by any means confined to the British Islands. Columbanus, or Columba the Younger (543?-615), became a monk of the celebrated Irish monastery of Bangor, which was founded in 558 by Comgall, a leader in learning and missionary zeal. From Bangor, Columbanus set forth, about. 585, with twelve monastic companions, and settled in Anegray, in Burgundy, near which he planted the monastery of Luxeuil. Driven forth about 610, in consequence of his prophet-like rebuke of King Theuderich II and the King's grandmother, Brunhilda, Columbanus worked for a brief time in northern Switzerland, where his Irish companion and disciple, Gallus, was to live as an anchorite, and to give his name to, rather than to found, the later monastery of St. Gall. Columbanus made his way to northern Italy, and there established in 614, in the Appenines, the monastery of Bobbio, in which he died a year later. Columbanus was only one of the earlier of a number of Irish monks who labored on the Continent — many of them in what is now central and southern Germany. Thus, Kilian wrought in Wiirzburg and Virgil in Salzburg. One modification of Chris- tian practice, of great later importance, was introduced on the Continent by these Irish monks, notably by Columbanus. The entrance of thousands into the church when Christianity was accepted by the state had largely broken down the old public discipline. There had grown up the custom of private confession among the monks of East and West. Basil had strongly favored it in the East. Nowhere had it^more hearty support than among the Irish monks, and by them it was ex- tended to the laity, as was indeed the case, to some extent, by the monks of the East. The Irish on the Continent were the introducers of private lay confession. In Ireland, also, grew up the first extensive penitential books, in which appropriate satisfactions were assessed for specific sins — though these books had their antecedents in earlier canons of councils. These penitential treatises the Irish monks made familiar on the Con- tinent. Meanwhile, a work of the utmost significance for the religious history of Britain and the papacy had been undertaken by 198 RO.AIAN MISSIONARIES IN ENGLAND Pope Gregory the Great. Moved by a missionary impulse which he had long felt, and taking advantage of the favorable situation afforded by the marriage of iEthelberht, "King" of Kent and overlord of much of southeastern England, to a Frankish Christian princess, Berhta, Gregory sent a Roman friend, Augustine, the prior of his beloved monastery on the Caelian hill, with a number of monastic companions, to at- tempt the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons. The expedition left Rome in 596, but its courage was small, and all the persuasive power of Gregory was required to induce it to proceed. It was not till the spring of 597 that the party, reinforced by Frank- ish assistants, reached Canterbury. iEthelberht and many of his followers soon accepted Christianity. Gregory looked upon the struggle as already won. Augustine received epis- copal consecration from Vergilius of Aries in November, 597, and, by 601, Gregory appointed Augustine metropolitan with authority to establish twelve bishops under his jurisdiction. When northern England should be converted a similar metro- politanate was. to be established in York. London and York were to be the ecclesiastical capitals. The British bishops, over whom Gregory had no recognized jurisdiction, the Pope committed to the superintendency of Augustine.^ The task in reality was to prove much more arduous than it seemed to Gregory's sanguine vision, and the greater part of a century was to pas^ before Christianity was to be dominant in Eng- land. Yet the movement, thus inaugurated, was vastly to strengthen the papacy. The Anglo-Saxons owed their conver- sion chiefly to the direct efforts of Rome, and they in turn displayed a devotion to the papacy not characteristic of the older lands, like France and Spain, where Christianity had been otherwise introduced. Anglo-Saxon Christianity was to pro- duce, moreover, some of the most energetic of missionaries by whom the Gospel and papal obedience were alike to be advanced on the Continent. England was not brought to the acceptance of Christianity without much vicissitude. The hegemony of Kent was wan- ing before the death of ^thelberht, and with it the first Chris- tian triumphs were eclipsed. Northumbria gradually gained leadership. It was a success when Edwin, King of North- 1 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp. 9, 10. ROMAN AUTHORITY TRIUMPHS 199 umbria, was converted through the work of PauHnus, soon to be bishop of York, in 627. The heathen King, Penda of Mercia, however, defeated and slew Edwin in 633, and a heathen re- action followed in Northumbria. Under King Oswald, who had become a Christian when an exile in lona, Christianity was re-established in Northumbria, chiefly through the aid of Aidan (ante, p. 197). It was of the Irish, or as it is often caHed, the "Old British" type. Penda once more attacked, and in 642 Oswald was killed in battle. Oswald's brother, Oswy, like him a convert of lona, after much struggle secured all of North- umbria by 651, and a widely recognized overlordship besides. English Christianity was becoming firmly established. From the first coming of the Roman missionaries there had been controversy between them and their Irish or Old British fellow Christians. The points of dijfference seem of minor importance. An older system of reckoning, discarded in Rome, resulted in diversity as to the date of Easter. The forms of tonsure were unlike. Some variations, not now recoverable, existed in the administration of baptism. Furthermore, as has been pointed out, Roman Christianity was firmly organized and diocesan, while that of the Old British Church was monastic and tribal. While the Old British missionaries looked upon the Pope as the highest dignitary in Christendom, the Roman representatives ascribed to him a judicial authority which the Old British did not fully admit. Southern Ireland accepted the Roman authority about 630. In England the decision came at a synod held under King Oswy at Whitby in 664. There Bishop Colman of Lindisfarne defended the Old British usages, while Wilfrid, once of Lindisfarne, but won for Rome on a pilgrimage, and soon to be bishop of York, opposed. The Roman custom regarding Easter was approved, and with it the Roman cause in England won the day. By 703 northern Ire- land had followed the same path, and by 718, Scotland. In Wales the process of accommodation was much slower, and was not completed till the twelfth century. In England this strengthening of the Roman connection was much furthered by the appointment, in 668, by Pope Vitalian, of a Roman monk, Theodore, a native of Tarsus in Cilicia, as archbishop of Canter- bury. An organizer of ability, he did much to make permanent the work begun by his predecessors. The two streams of missionary effort combined to the advan- 200 PRANKISH CHURCH AND RULERS tage of English Christianity. If that from Rome contributed order, the Old British gave missionary zeal and love of learning. The scholarship of the Irish monasteries was transplanted to England, and was there strengthened by frequent Anglo- Saxon pilgrimages to Rome. Of this intellectual movement a conspicuous illustration was Bede, generally called the "Vener- able" (672?-735). An almost life-long member of the joint monastery of Wearmouth and Jarrow in Northumbria, his learn- ing, like that of Isidore of Seville, a century earlier, embraced the full round of knowledge of his age, and made him a teacher of generations to come. He wrote on chronology, natural phe- nomena, the Scriptures, and theology. Above all, he is remem- bered for his Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, a work of great merit and the chief source of information regard- ing the Christianization of the British Islands. SECTION II. CONTINENTAL MISSIONS AND PAPAL GROWTH With the conversion of Clovis to orthodox Christianity (496) {a7ite, p. 133), a close relationship of church and state be- gan in the Prankish dominions. To a large extent it was true that Prankish conquest and Christianization were two sides of the same shield. Under the descendants of Clovis — the Merovingian Kings — the internal condition of the Prankish church sank, however, to a low ebb. Bishops and abbots were appointed for political considerations, much church land was confiscated or put in secular hands. Even the efforts of Greg- ory I to gain more effective papal control in Prance and to effect reform had little lasting result. The political collapse of the Merovingians, led to the rise to power of the Carolingian house, originally " mayors of the pal- ace," which was accomplished when Pippin, called, not wholly correctly, of Heristal, won the battle of Tertry in 687. The Merovingian Kings continued in name, but the real authority was exercised by Pippin as "duke of the Franks." After his death in 714, his illegitimate son Charles Martel (715-741) ex- ercised all the powers of a King. By him the Mohammedan advance in western Europe was permanently stayed, by the great battle between Tours and Poitiers in 732. He saw the advantage of churchly aid, and supported missionary effort in western Germany and. the Netherlands, where he wished to ex- BONIFACE AS A MISSIONARY 201 tend his political control. Yet neither Pippin "of Heristal" nor Charles Martel were more helpful to the church of their own territories than the Merovingians. They exploited it for political reasons, confiscated its lands, and did little to check its disorders. Nevertheless, under Charles Martel a great mis- sionary and reformatory work was initiated that was to Chris- tianize large sections of western Germany, reform the Prankish church, and bring the papacy and the Pranks into relations of the utmost consequence to both. Willibrord (657?-739), a Northumbrian, began missionary work in Prisia with the support of Pippin of Heristal, and, in 695, was consecrated a missionary bishop by Pope Sergius I — an action which resulted in the establishment of the see of Utrecht. His work had scanty success, and was taken up by one of the ablest and most remarkable men of the period — Winfrid or Boniface (680?-754). An Anglo-Saxon of Devon- shire by birth, Winfrid became a monk of Nutcell near Win- chester. In 716, he began missionary labors in Prisia, but with such ill success that he returned to England. In 718 and 719, he was in Rome, where he received from Pope Gregory II (715-731) appointment to labor in Germany. Prom 719 to 722, he worked in Prisia and Hesse, going once more to Rome in the year last named, and receiving consecration as a mis- sionary bishop, swearing allegiance to the Pope.^ The next ten years witnessed a great success in Hesse and Thuringia. Not only were heathen converted, but the Irish monks were brought largely into obedience to Rome. Gregory III (731-741) made Boniface an archbishop in 732, with authority to found new sees. After a third journey to Rome, in 738, he thus organized the church of Bavaria, and a little later that of Thuringia. In 744, he aided his disciple, Sturm, in the foundation of the great Benedictine monastery of Pulda, destined to be a centre of learning and priestly education for all western-central Ger- many. Between 746 and 748, Boniface was made archbishop of Mainz, which thus became the leading German see. In all this Boniface strengthened the causes of order and discipline and increased papal authority. His work was greatly aided by the considerable numbers of men and women who came as fellow workers from his native England, and for whom he found place in monastic and other Christian service. ^ Robinson, Readings in European History, 1 : 105-111. 202 BONIFACE'S REFORMS The death of Charles Martel In 741 saw his authority divided between his sons Carloman (741-747), and Pippin the Short (741-768). Both were far more ehurchly than their father, and Carloman ultimately retired from power to become a monk. While neither would abandon authority over the Frankish church, both supported Boniface in the abolition of its worst irregularities and abuses, and in a closer connec- , tion with Rome. In a series of synods held under Boniface's leadership, beginning in 742, the w^orldliness of the clergy was attacked, wandering bishops censured, priestly marriage con- demned, and stricter clerical discipline enforced. At a synod held in 747 the bishops assembled recognized the jurisdiction of the papacy, though, as the civil rulers were not present, these conclusions lacked the force of Frankish law. The Frank- ish church, thanks to the work of Boniface, was vastly bettered in organization, character, and discipline, while, what was equally valued by him, the authority of the papacy therein was very decidedly increased, even though that of the mayor of the palace continued the more potent. As Boniface drew toward old age his thoughts turned toward the mission work in Frisia, with which he had begun. He se- cured the appointment of his Anglo-Saxon disciple. Lull, as his successor in the see of Mainz. In 754 he went to Frisia, and there was murdered by the heathen, thus crowning his act- ive and widely influential life with a death of witness to his faith. His work had been one for order, discipline, and con- solidation, as well as Christian advancement, and these were the chief needs of the age. SECTION III. THE FRANKS AND THE PAPACY It has already been pointed out (ante, p. 162) that the pa- pacy, and Italy generally, opposed the iconoclastic efforts of the Emperor Leo III, going so far as to excommunicate the opponents of pictures in a Roman synod held under Gregory III, in 731. The Emperor answered by removing southern Italy and Sicily from papal jurisdiction, and placing these regions under the see of Constantinople — a matter long a thorn in the side of the papacy. In Rome and northern Italy the imperial power exercised from Constantinople was too feeble to control papal action. The imperial representative was the CORONATION OF PIPPIN 203 exarch of Ravenna, under whom stood a duke of Rome for miUtary aflFairs, though the Pope was in many respects the Emperor's representative in the civil concerns of the city. The papacy was now in practical rebellion against the rulers who had their seat in Constantinople. It was, however, in a most dangerous position. The Lombards were pressing, and were threatening the capture of Rome. The disunion conse- quent on the iconoclastic dispute made it necessary, if the papacy was to maintain any considerable independence in Rome, to find other protection against the Lombards than that of the Emperor. This the Popes sought, and at last obtained, from the Franks. In 739 Gregory III appealed to Charles Martel for aid against the Lombards, but in vain. With Pippin the Short it was otherwise. He was more ecclesiastically minded, and greater plans than even his father had entertained now moved him. Pippin and the papacy could be of mutual assistance each to the other. The new Lombard King, Aistulf (749-756), conquered Ravenna from the Emperor in 751 and was griev- ously pressing Rome itself. Pippin desired the kingly title as well as the kingly power in France. He had determined upon a revolution which should relegate the last of the feeble Mero- vingians, Childeric III, to a monastery, and place Pippin him- self on the throne. For this change he desired not only the approval of the Prankish nobility, but the moral sanction of the church. He appealed to Pope Zacharias (741-752). The Pope's approval was promptly granted, and before the close of 751, Pippin was formally in the kingly office. To this he was anointed and crowned, but whether by Boniface, as has usually been supposed, is uncertain. This transaction, which seems to have been simple at the time, was fraught with the most far-reaching consequences. From it might be drawn the conclusion that it was within the Pope's power to give and withhold kingdoms. All unseen in it, were wrapped up the re-establishment of the empire in the West, the Holy Roman Empire, and that interplay of papacy and empire which forms so large a part of the history of the Middle Ages. From this point of view it was the most impor- tant event of mediaeval history. If the Pope could thus help Pippin, the latter could be no less serviceable to the Pope. Aistulf and his Lombards con- 204 THE STATES OF THE CHURCH tinued to press Rome. Stephen H, therefore, went to Pippin himself, crowning and anointing Pippin and his sons afresh in the church of St. Denis near Paris, in 754, and confirming to them the indefinite title of " Patricians of the Romans " — all the more useful, perhaps, because implying a relation to Rome that was wholly undefined. It had been borne by the imperial exarch in Ravenna. Soon after this crowning, Pippin fulfilled his reciprocal obligation. At the head of a Prankish army, late in 754, or early in 755, he invaded Italy and compelled Aistulf to agree to surrender to the Pope Ravenna and the other recent Lombard conquests. A second campaign, in 756, was necessary before the Lombard King made good his promise. The Exarchate of which Ravenna was the capital and the Pentapolis were now the possessions of the Pope. The "States of the Church" were begun — that temporal sovereignty of the papacy which was to last till 1870. Yet, as far as can now be judged, in thus granting the Exarchate to Pope Stephen, Pippin regarded himself as overlord. Rome itself, Pippin did not give to the Pope. It was not his to give. Legally, the status of Rome would have been hard to define. Though the Popes had practically broken with the Emperor at Constanti- nople, Rome had not been conquered from him. Indeed the papacy recognized the sovereignty of the Eastern Emperor in the style of its public documents till 772. Pippin had the wholly nebulous rights that might be included in the title *' Patrician of the Romans." Actually, Rome was in the pos- session of the Pope. Though the Pope was thus now a territorial ruler, the extent of his possessions was far from satisfying papal ambition, if one may judge by a curious forgery, the authorship of which is unknown, but which seems to date from this period — the so-called "Donation of Constantine." ^ In charter form, and with an expression of a creed, and a fabulous account of his conversion and baptism, Constantine ordered all ecclesiastics to be subject to Pope Sylvester and successive occupants of the Roman see, and transferred to them "the city of Rome and all the provinces, districts, and cities of Italy or of the Western regions." This meant a sovereignty over the Western half of the empire — at least an overlordship. Discredited by a few of the wiser men of the Middle Ages, the " Donation " was gen- ' Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 319-329. CHARLEMAGNE 205 erally believed, till its falsity was demonstrated by Nicholas of Cues in 1433 and Lorenzo Valla in 1440. SECTION IV. CHARLEMAGNE Pippin the Short died in 768. A strong ruler, his fame has been unduly eclipsed by that of his greater son, who, in general, simply carried further what the father had begun. Pippin had divided his kingdom between his two sons, Charles and Carloman. Ill will existed between the brothers, but the situation was relieved by the death of Carloman in 771. With that event the real reign of Charles, to whom the world has so ascribed the title "Great" as to weave it indissolubly with his name — Charlemagne — began. Charlemagne, perhaps more than any other sovereign in history, was head over all things to his age. A warrior of great gifts, he more than doubled his father's possessions. When he died his sway ruled all of modern France, Belgium, and Hol- land, nearly half of modern Germany and Austria-Hungary, more than half of Italy, and a bit of northeastern Spain. It was nearer imperial size than anything that had been seen since the downfall of the Western Roman Empire. Conquest was but part of his work. His armies, by extending the frontier, gave rest and time for consolidation to the central portion of his territories. He w^as the patron of learning, the kindly mas- ter of the church, the preserver of order, to whom nothing seemed too small for attention or too great for execution. A quarrel with Desiderius, King of the Lombards, resulted in the conquest and extinction of that kingdom by Charle- magne in two campaigns in the years 774 to 777. Pippin's grants to the papacy were renewed, but the situation was practically altered. The papacy was no longer separated as , it had been from the main Frankish territories by the inter- i vening Lombard kingdom. Charlemagne's connection with - Rome was a much more effective overlord ship than that of his father, and he thenceforth treated the Pope as the chief prel- ate of his realm, rather than as an independent power, though he did not go so far as to dictate the choice of the Popes, as he did that of the bishops of his kingdom. Highly important for the extension of Christianity was Charlemagne's conquest of the Saxons, then occupying what 20G CHARLEMAGNE CROWNED EMPEROR is now northwestern Germany — a result achieved only after a series of campaigns lasting from 772 to 804. His forcible imposition of Christianity was made permanent by the more peaceful means of planting bishoprics and monasteries through- out the Saxon land. By this conversion the last considerable Germanic tribe, and one of the most gifted and energetic, was brought into the Christian family of Europe to its permanent advantage. Frisia, also, now became a wholly Christian land. Charlemagne's contests with the rebellious duke, Tassilo, of already Christianized Bavaria, led not only to the full absorp- tion of the Bavarian bishoprics in the Prankish ecclesiastical sysfem, but to successful wars against the Avars and the ex- tension of Christianity into much of what is now Austria. Such a ruler, devoted equally to the extension of political power and of Christianity, and controlling the greater part of Western Christendom, was, indeed, a figure of imperial pro- portions. It is not surprising, therefore, that Pope Leo HI (795-816), who was greatly indebted to Charlemagne for pro- tection from disaffected Roman nobles, placed on the head of the Frankish King the Roman imperial crown as the latter knelt in St. Peter's Church on Christmas da}^ 800. To the thinking of the Roman populace who applauded, as to the West generally, it was the restoration of the empire to the West, that had for centuries been held by the ruler in Constan- tinople. It placed Charlemagne in the great succession from Augustus. It gave a theocratic stamp to that empire. Un- expected, and not wholly welcome at the time to Charlemagne, it was the visible embodiment of a great ideal. The Roman Empire, men thought, had never died, and now God's consecra- tion had been given to a Western Emperor by the hands of His representative. It was not, necessarily, a rejection of the imperial title of the ruler in Constantinople. The later empire had frequently seen two Emperors, East and West. Leo V (813-820), the Emperor in Constantinople, later, formally recognized the imperial title of his Western colleague. For the West and for the papacy the coronation was of the utmost consequence. It raised questions of imperial power and of papal authority that were to be controverted throughout the Middle Ages. It emphasized the feeling that church and state were but two sides of the same shield, the one leading man to temporal happiness, the other to eternal blessedness, 50 55 ^ 4> s> LEARNING REVIVED UNDER CHARLEMAGNE 207 and both closely related and owing mutual helpfulness. It made more evident than ever the deep-seated religious and political cleavage between East and West. To the great Em- peror himself it seemed the fulfilment of the dream of Augus- tine's City of God {ante, p. 184) — the union of Christendom in a kingdom of God, of which he was the earthly head. His power was never greater than when he died, in 814. At Charlemagne's accession no schools were so flourishing in Western Europe as those to be found in connection with the monasteries of the British Islands. It was from England that this many-sided monarch procured his chief intellectual and literary assistant. Alcuin (735?-804) was probably a native, and certainly a student of York. From 781 to his death, with some interruptions, he was Charlemagne's main aid in a real renaissance of classical and Biblical learning, that rendered the reign bright compared with the years before, and raised the in- tellectual life of the Frankish state. Charlemagne himself, though without becoming much of a scholar, set the example as an occasional pupil in this "school of the palace." In 796 Charlemagne made Alcuin the head of the monastery of St. Martin in Tours, which now became under his leadership a centre of learning for the whole Frankish realm. Others helped in this intellectual revival, like the Lombard, Paul the Deacon (720?-795), the Frank, Einhard (770?-840), or the Visigoth, Theodulf (760?-821). The mere mention of these various national relationships shows the care which Charle- magne exhibited to secure from any portion of Western Europe those who could raise the intellectual standards of his empire. With this growth of learning came theological discussion. The Spanish bishops, Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgel, taught an adoptionist Christology — that Christ, though in His divine nature the Son of God, was in His human nature only a son by adoption. Under Charlemagne's leadership these opin- ions were condemned in synods held in Regensburg (792) and Frankfort (794). In this work Charlemagne regarded himself as the theological guide no less than the protector of the church. In similar fashion, at the synod of Frankfort just mentioned, Charlemagne had the conclusions of the General Council of 787, in Nicsea (ante, p. 163), condemned, rejected its approval of picture reverence, and caused the Libri Carolini, defending his position, to be issued. In 809, at a synod in Aachen, Char- 208 ECCLESIASTICAL MODIFICATIONS lemagne approved the Spanish addition fiUoqup {ante, p. 180) to the so-called Nicene-ConstantinopoHtan creed. All these acts were in consultation with the bishops and theologians of his realm, but with no special deference to the Pope or refer- ence of the matters to papal judgment. SECTION V. ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS Roman political institutions were based on the cities, on which the surrounding country was dependent, and Christian organ- ization followed the same rule. The country districts were dependent upon and were cared for by the city bishops and their appointees, save where, in the East, there were "country bishops." The Germanic invasions altered this situation. By the sixth century the beginnings of the parish system were to be found in France {ante, p. 166). There it rapidly grew, and it was stimulated by the custom of the foundation of churches by large landowners. The founders and their heirs retained the right of nominating the incumbent. This situa- tion left episcopal control uncertain. Charlemagne, there- fore, provided that besides the right of ordination of all parish priests, the bishop should have visitorial and disciplinary power throughout his diocese. The churchly status was further strengthened by the full legal establishment of tithes. Long favored by the clergy through Old Testament example, they were demanded by a Frankish synod in JMacon, in 585. By Pippin they were treated as a legal charge, and full legal sanc- tion was given them by Charlemagne. They were to be col- lected not only by bishops, but by and for the use of the incum- bent of each parish. ]\Ioreover, constant gifts of lands to the church had raised ecclesiastical possessions, by the time of the early Carolingians, to a third of the soil of France. The great holdings were a constant temptation in the financial need of a Charles Martel, who appropriated much, but under the friendly government of Charlemagne they were respected, if earlier confiscations were not restored. Under Charlemagne, preaching was encouraged and books of sermons prepared. Confession was favored, though not yet obligatory. Every Christian was expected to be able to repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed. Charlemagne renewed and extended the metropolitan system, METROPOLITANS AND ARCHBISHOPS 209 which had fallen into abeyance. At the beginning of his reign there was but one metropolitan in the Prankish kingdom. At its end there were twenty-two. These were now generally known as archbishops — a title which goes back to the time of Athanasius, though long loosely used. In Carolingian theory the archbishop was the judge and disciplinary officer of the bishops of his province, possessed of powers which the growth of papal jurisdiction was soon to curtail. It was also his duty to call frequent synods to consider the religious problems of the archdiocese, or as it was usually styled, the province. For the better regulation of his immediate clerical assistants, Bishop Chrodegang of Metz introduced, about 760, a semi- monastic life in common, which was favored and spread by Charlemagne. From the designation of this life as the vita canonica, the name "canons" for the clergy attached to a cathe- dral or collegiate church arose. Their place of meeting was called the capitulum, or chapter — a title soon applied to the canons themselves. By this means the life and work of the bishop and his immediately associated clergy was largely regulated. Charlemagne himself designated the bishops of his realm. In all these changes, save that of personal authority over episcopal appointments, Charlemagne was but carrying further the reforms begun by Boniface. Much that he completed his father. Pippin, had commenced. At Charlemagne's death, the Frankish church was in a far better state of education, dis- cipline, and efficiency than it had been under the later Mero- vingians and early Carolingians. SECTION VI. COLLAPSING EMPIRE AND RISING PAPACY Charlemagne's great power was personal. Scarcely had he died when the rapid decline of his empire began. His son and successor, Louis the Pious (814-840), was of excellent personal character, but wholly unequal to the task left by Charlemagne, or even to the control of his own sons, who plotted against him and quarrelled with one another. After his death they divided the empire between them by the Treaty of Verdun in 843. To Lothair (843-855) came Frankish Italy and a strip of territory including the valley of the Rhone and the region lying immedi- ately west of the Rhine, together with the imperial title. To 210 THE COLLAPSE OF THE EMPIRE Louis (843-875) was given the region east of the Rhine, whence he acquired the nickname, " the German." To Charles the Bald (843-877) came most of modern France and ultimately the im- perial crown. This Treaty of Verdun is usually regarded as the point whence France and Germany go their separate ways. These rulers proved utterly inadequate for unity or defense. France suffered grievously from attacks by the Scandinavian Normans, who pushed up its rivers and burned its towns, ulti- mately (911) establishing themselves permanently in Nor- mandy. Italy was a prey to Saracen raids, in one of which (841) St. Peter's itself, in Rome, was plundered. A little later, with the beginning of the tenth century, the raids of the Hun- garians brought devastation to Germany and Italy. Under these circumstances, when national unity or defense was im- possible, feudalism developed with great rapidity. Its roots run back to the declining days of the Roman Empire, but with the death of Charlemagne it was given great impetus. It was intensely divisive, substituting for any strong central govern- ment many local seats of authority, jealous one of another and engaged in constant struggle. Churches and monasteries be- came largely the prey of local nobles, or defended their rights with difficulty as parts of the feudal system. This social and political form of organization was to dominate Europe till the thirteenth century, and largely to make possible the growth of the media3val papacy. The impulse given to learning by Charlemagne did not imme- diately die. At the court of Charles the Bald, John Scotus (?-877?), to whom the name Erigena was much later added, held somewhat the same position that Alcuin had occupied un- der Charlemagne. He translated the much admired writings of the Pseudo-Dionysius {ante, p. 171), and developed his own Neo- Platonic philosophy, which his age was too ignorant to judge heretical or orthodox. In Germany, Hrabanus Maurus (776 ?- 856), abbot of Fulda and archbishop of Mainz, a pupil of Alcuin, attained a deserved reputation as a teacher, commentator on the Scriptures, furtherer of clerical education and author of what was well-nigh an encyclopaedia. In Hincmar (805?-882), archbishop of Rheims, France possessed not only a prelate of great assertiveness and influence, but a theological controversial- ist of decided gift. The renewed study of Augustine which this intellectual DOCTRINAL COXTUOVEIISIES 211 revival effected led to two doctrinal controversies. Tlic first was regarding the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper. About 831 Paschasius Radbertus, a monk of the monastery of Corbie, near Amiens, of remarkable learning in Greek as well as in Latin theology, set forth the first thoroughgoing treatise on the Lord's Supper, De corpore et sanguine Domini. Li it he taught with Augustine, that only those who partake in faitli receive the virtue of the sacrament, and with the Greeks, thjit it is the food of immortality; and also, that by divine miracle the substance is made the very body and blood of Christ. That was transubstantiation, though the word was not to be coined before the twelfth century. To Radbertus, Hrabanus Maurus replied; but a more elaborate answer was that of a fellow monk of Corbie, Ratramnus, about 844. Yet his view agreed in much with that of Radbertus. The body and blood of Christ are mysteriously present; yet they are not identical with the body that suffered on the cross. The controversy was not decided at the time, but the future, in the Roman Church, was with Radbertus. The second controversy was aroused by Gottschalk (808?- 868?). A monk of Fulda, made so by parental dedication, his efforts for release from his bonds were frustrated by Hrabanus Maurus. He then turned to the study of Augustine, and his hard fate, perhaps, led him to emphasize a double divine pre- destination — to life or to death. He was attacked by Hrabanus Maurus and Hincmar, but found vigorous defenders. Con- demned as a heretic at a synod in Mainz in 848, he spent the next twenty years in monastic imprisonment, persecuted by Hincmar, and refusing to retract. The controversy was a fresh flaring up of the old dispute between thoroughgoing Augustinianism and the semi-Pelagianism which was the actual theory of a large portion of the church. As the collapse of Charlemagne's empire grew more complete, however, these controversies and the intellectual life out of which they sprang faded. By 900 a renewed barbarism had largely extinguished the light which had shone brightly a century before. One great exception to this general condition existed. In England, Alfred the Great (871-901?), distin- guished as the successful opponent of the Danish conquerors, in a spirit like that of Charlemagne gathered learned men about him, and encouraged the education of the clergy. 212 THE PSEUDO-ISIDORIAN DECRETALS The collapsing empire of Charlemagne led to the rise of a churchly party in France, which despairing of help from the state, looked toward the papacy as the source of unity and hope. This party regarded with suspicion also any control of the church by the sovereigns or nobility, and it represented the jealousy of the ordinary bishops and lower clergy toward the great archbishops with their often arbitrary assertions of au- thority, of whom Hincmar was a conspicuous example. The aim of the movement was not the exaltation of the papacy for its own sake; rather its exaltation as a means of checking sec- ular control and that of the archbishops, and of maintaining ecclesiastical unity. From this circle, between 847 and 852, and probably from Hincmar's own region of Rheims, came one of the most remarkable of forgeries — the so-called Pseudo- Isidorian Decretals — purporting to be collected by a certain Isidore Mercator, by whom Isidore of Seville {a7ite, p. 193) and Marius Mercator were doubtless intended. It consisted of decisions of Popes and councils from Clement of Rome in the first century to Gregory II in the eighth, part genuine and part forged. The "Donation of Constantine" {ante, p. 204) is included. The early Popes therein claim for themselves su- preme jurisdiction. All bishops may appeal directly to papal authority. Intervening archiepiscopal rights are limited, and neither papacy nor bishops are subject to secular control. With its origin the papacy had nothing to do; but it was to be used mightily to the furtherance of papal claims. The age was un- critical. It passed immediately as genuine, and was not ex- posed till the Reformation had awakened historical study. With the decline of imperial power, the independence of the papacy rapidly rose. The Popes showed themselves the strong- est men in Italy. Leo IV (847-855), aided by south Italian cities, defeated the Saracens and surrounded the quarter of St. Peter's in Rome with a wall — the "Leonine City." In Nicholas I (858-867) the Roman see had its ablest and most assertive occupant between Gregory the Great and Hildebrand. He sketched out a programme of papal claims, hardly surpassed later, but which the papacy was to be centuries in achieving. Nicholas attempted to realize the ideals of Augustine's City of Cod. In his thought, the church is superior to all earthly powers, the ruler of the whole church is the Pope, and the bish- ops are his agents. These conceptions he was able to make PAPACY ADVANCED BY NICHOLAS I 213 effective in two notable cases, in whicli he had also the advan- tage of choosing the side on which right lay. The first was that of Thietberga, the injured wife of Lothair II of Lorraine. Divorced that that sovereign might marry his concubine, Wal- drada, she appealed to Nicholas, who declared void the sanc- tioning decision of a synod held in Metz, in 863, and excom- municated the archbishops of Trier and Cologne who had supported Lothair. The Pope had defended helpless woman- hood, he none the less humbled two of the most powerful German prelates and thwarted a German ruler. In the second case, Nicholas received the appeal of the deposed Bishop Rothad of Soissons, who had been removed by the overbearing Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, and forced his restoration. Here Nicholas appeared as the protector of the bishops against their metropolitans and the defender of their right to appeal to the Pope as the final judge. In this quarrel the Pseudo- Isidorian Decretals were first employed in Rome. In a third case, Nicholas, though having right on his side, was less successful. The Emperor in Constantinople, Michael III, "the Drunkard," was ruled by his uncle, Bardas, a man of unsavory reputation. The patriarch, Ignatius, refused Bardas the sacrament, and was deposed. In his place, Bardas pro- cured the appointment of one of the most learned men of the later Greek world, Photius (patriarch 858-SG7, 878-886), then a layman. Ignatius, thus injured, appealed to Nicholas, who sent legates to Constantinople. They joined in approval of Photius. The Pope repudiated their action, and, in 863, de- clared Photius deposed. Photius now accused the Western Church of heresy for admitting the filloque clause to the creed, fasting on Saturdays, using milk, butter, and cheese in Lent, demanding priestly celibacy, and confining confirmation to the bishops. At a synod under his leadership in Constantinople, in 867, the Pope was condemned. Nicholas failed in his attempt to exercise his authority over the Eastern Church. The ill feeling between East and West was but augmented, which was to lead, in 1054, to the complete separation of the churches. During this period following the death of Charlemagne im- portant missionary efforts were begun. Ansgar (801 ?-865), a monk of Corbie, entered Denmark in 826, but was driven out the next year. In 829 and 830 he labored in Sweden. In 831 214 MISSIONS IN EUROPE he was appointed archbishop of the newly constituted see of Hamburg, with prospective missionary jurisdiction over Den- mark, Norway, and Sweden. The destruction of Hamburg by the Danes, in 845, resulted in Ansgar's removal to Bremen, which was united ecclesiastically with Hamburg, Ansgar's efforts were backed by no Frankish military force, and his pa- tient labors accomplished little. The full Christianization of Scandinavia was yet in the future. Larger success attended missions in the East. The Bulgars, originally a Turanian people, from eastern Russia, had con- quered a large territory in the Balkan region in the seventh century, and, in turn, had adopted the manners and speech of their Slavic subjects. Under their King, Boris (852-884), Christianity was introduced, Boris being baptized in 864. For some time undecided between Constantinople and Rome, Boris finally chose spiritual allegiance to the former, since the pa- triarch of Constantinople was willing to recognize a self- governing Bulgarian church. This adhesion was of immense consequence in determining the future growth of the Greek Church in Eastern Europe. The most celebrated missionaries among the Slavs were, however, the brothers Cyril ( ?-869) and Methodius (?-885). Natives of Thessalonica, they had at- tained high position in the Eastern empire. On the request of Rostislav, duke of Moravia, the Eastern Emperor, Michael III, sent the brothers thither in 864. There they labored with great success. A struggle of several years between the papacy and Constantinople for possession of this new-won territory resulted in the ultimate victory of Rome. The use of a Slavic liturgy was permitted by Pope John VIII (872-882), though soon with- drawn, but from this source its worship came ultimately to the Russian church. From Moravia, Christianity in its Roman form came to Bohemia about the close of the ninth century. SECTION VII. PAPAX DECLINE AND RENEWAL BY THE REVIVED EMPIRE It may seem strange that the papacy which showed such power under Nicholas I should within twenty-five years of his death have fallen into its lowest degradation. The explanation is the growing anarchy of the times. Up to a certain point the collapse of the empire aided the development of papal RAPID DECLINE OF THE PAPACY 215 authority; that passed, the papacy became the sport of the Italian nobles and ultimately of whatever faction was in con- trol of Rome, since the Pope was chosen by the clergy and people of the city. The papacy could now appeal for aid to no strong outside political power as Zacharias had to Pippin against the Lombards. At the close of the ninth century the papacy was involved in the quarrels for the possession of Italy. Stephen V (885- 891) was overborne by Guido, duke of Spoleto, and compelled to grant him the empty imperial title. Formosus (891-896) was similarly dependent, and crowned Guido's son, Lambert, Emperor in 892. From this situation Formosus sought relief in 893 by calling in the aid of Arnulf, whom the Germans had chosen King in 887. In 895 Arnulf captured Rome, and was crowned Emperor by Formosus the next year. A few months later Lambert was in turn master of Rome, and his partisan, Stephen VI (896-897), had the remains of the lately deceased Formosus disinterred, condemned in a synod, and treated with extreme indignity. A riot, however, thrust Stephen VI into prison, where he was strangled. Popes now followed one another in rapid succession, as the ' various factions controlled Rome. Between the death of Stephen VI (897) and the accession of John XII (955) no less than seventeen occupied the papal throne. The controlling influences in the opening years of the tenth century were those of the Roman noble Theophylact, and his notorious daugh- ters, Marozia and Theodora. The Popes were their creatures. From 932 to his death in 954 Rome was controlled by Marozia's son Alberic, a man of strength, ability, and character, who did much for churchly reforms in Rome, but nevertheless secured the appointment of his partisans as Popes. On his death he was succeeded as temporal ruler of Rome by his son Octavian, who had few of the father's rough virtues. Though without moral fitness for the oflSce, Octavian secured his own election as Pope in 955, choosing as his name in this capacity John XII (955-964), being one of the earliest Popes to take a new name on election. He altered the whole Roman situation and in- troduced a new chapter in the history of the papacy, by calling for aid upon the able German sovereign, Otto I, against the threatening power of Berengar II, who had gained control of a large part of Italy. 216 THE REGEXERATIOX OF GER]MANY The line of Charlemagne came to an end in Germany, in 911, with the death of Louis the Child. With the disintegra- tion of the Carolingian empire and the growth of feudalism, Germany threatened to fall into its tribal divisions, Bavaria, Swabia, Saxony, Franconia, and Lorraine. The most power- ful men were the tribal dukes. The necessities of defense from the Northmen and Hungarians forced a degree of unity, which was aided by the jealousy felt by the bishops of the growing power of the secular nobilit3\ In 911 the German nobles and great clergy, therefore, chose Conrad, duke of Franconia, as King (911-918). He proved inadequate, and in 919 Henry the Fowler, duke of Saxony, was elected his successor (919-936). His ability was equal to the situation. Though having little power, save in Saxony, he secured peace from the other dukes, fortified his own territories, drove back the Danes, subdued the Slavs east of the Elbe, and finally, in 933, defeated the Hun- garian invaders. The worst perils of Germany had been re- moved, and the foundations of a strong monarchy laid, when he was succeeded as King by his even abler son, Otto I (936- 973). Otto's first work was the consolidation of his kingdom. He made the semi-independent dukes eft'ectively his vassals. In this work he used above all the aid of the bishops and great abbots. They controlled large territories of Germany, and by filling these posts with his adherents, their forces, coupled with his own, were sufficient to enable Otto to control any hostile combination of lay nobles. He named the bishops and abbots, and under him they became, as they were to continue to the Napoleonic wars, lay rulers as well as spiritual prelates. The peculiar constitution of Germany thus arose, by which the imperial power was based on control of ecclesiastical appoint- ments — a situation which was to lead to the investiture struggle with the papacy in the next century. As Otto extended his power he founded new bishoprics on the borders of his king- dom, partly political and partly missionary in aim, as Bran- denburg and Havelberg among the Slavs, and Schleswig, Ripen, and Aarhus for the Danes. He also established the arch- bishopric of Magdeburg. Had Otto confined his work to Germany it would have been for the advantage of that land, and for the permanent upbuild- ing of a strong central monarchy. He was, however, attracted THE HOLY ROINIAN EMPIRE 217 by Italy, and established relations there of the utmost historic importance, but which were destined to dissipate the strength of Germany for centuries. A first invasion in 951 made him master of northern Italy. Rebellion at home (953) and a great campaign against the Hungarians (955) interrupted his Italian enterprise; but in 961 he once more invaded Italy, invited by Pope John XII, then hard pressed by Berengar II (ante, p. 215). On February 2, 962, Otto was crowned in Rome by John XII as Emperor — an event which, though in theory continuing the succession of the Roman Emperors from Augustus and Charle- magne, was the inauguration of the Holy Roman Empire, which was to continue in name till 1806. Theoretically, the Emperor was the head of secular Christendom, so constituted with the approval of the church expressed by coronation by the papacy. Practically, he was a more or less powerful Ger- man ruler, with Italian possessions, on varying terms with the Popes. John XII soon tired of Otto's practical control, and plotted against him. Otto, of strong religious feeling, to whom such a Pope was an offense, doubtless was also moved by a desire to strengthen his hold on the German bishops by securing a more worthy and compliant head of the church. In 963 Otto compelled the Roman people to swear to choose no Pope with- out his consent, caused John XII to be deposed, and brought about the choice of Leo VIII (963-965). The new Pope stood solely by imperial support. On Otto's departure John XII re- sumed his papacy, and on John's death the Roman factions chose Benedict V. Once more Otto returned, forced Benedict into exile, restored Leo VIII, and after Leo's speedy demise, caused the choice of John XIII (965-972). Otto had rescued the papacy, for the time being, from the Roman nobles, but at the cost of subserviency to himself. Otto's son and successor, Otto II (973-983), pursued substan- tially the same policy at home, and regarding the papacy, as his father, though with a weaker hand. His son. Otto III (983-1002), went further. The Roman nobles had once more controlled the papacy in his minority, but in 996 he entered Rome, put them down, and caused his cousin Bruno to be made Pope as Gregory V (996-999) — the first German to hold the papal office. After Gregory's decease Otto HI placed on the papal throne his tutor, Gerbert, archbishop of Rheims, 218 THE EMPERORS AND THE PAPACY as Silvester H (999-1003)— the first French Pope, and the most learned man of the age. The death of Otto HI ended the direct line of Otto I, and the throne was secured by Henry H (1002-1024), duke of Bavaria and great-grandson of Henr}^ the Fowler. A man filled with sincere desire to improve the state of the church, he yet felt him- self forced by the difficulties in securing and maintaining his po- sition to exercise strict control over ecclesiastical appointments. His hands were too fully tied by German affairs to interfere effectually in Rome. There the counts of Tusculum gained control of the papacy, and secured the appointment of Benedict VHI (1012-1024), with whom Henry stood on good terms, and by whom he was crowned. Henry even persuaded the unspiri- tual Benedict VHI at a synod in Pavia in 1022, at which both Pope and Emperor were present, to renew the prohibition of priestly marriage and favor other measures which the age re- garded as reforms. With the death of Henry H the direct line was once more extinct, and the imperial throne was secured by a Franconian count, Conrad H (1024-1039), one of the ablest of German rulers, under whom the empire gained great strength. His thoughts were political, however, and political considerations determined his ecclesiastical appointments. With Rome he did not interfere. There the Tusculan party secured the papacy for Benedict VIH's brother, John XIX (1024-1032), and on his death for his twelve-year-old nephew, Benedict IX (1033-1048), both unworthy, and the latter one of the worst occupants of the papal throne. An intolerable situation arose at Rome, which was ended (see p. 221) by Conrad's able and far more religious son, Henry HI, Emperor from 1039 to 1056. SECTION VIII. REFORM MOVEMENTS Charlemagne himself valued monasticism more for its edu- cational and cultural work than for its ascetic ideals. Those ideals appealed, however, in Charlemagne's reign to a soldier- nobleman of southern France, Witiza, or as he was soon known, Benedict (750?-821) called of Aniane, from the monastery founded by him in 779. Benedict's aim was to secure every- where the full ascetic observation of the "Rule" of Benedict of Nursia {ante, p. 139). The educational or industrial side of REFORM INIOVEMENTS. CLUNY 219 monasticism appealed little to him. He would raise monasti- cism to greater activity in worship, contemplation, and self- denial. Under Louis the Pious Benedict became that Em- peror's chief monastic adviser, and by imperial order, in 816 and 817, Benedict of Aniane's interpretation of the elder Bene- dict's Rule was made binding on all monasteries of the empire. Undoubtedly a very considerable improvement in their condi- tion resulted. Most of these benefits were lost, however, in the collapse of the empire, in which monasticism shared in the common fall. The misery of the times itself had the effect of turning men's minds from the world, and of magnifying the ascetic ideal. By the early years of the tenth century a real ascetic revival of religion was beginning that was to grow in strength for more than two centuries. Its first conspicuous illustration was the foundation in 910 by Duke William the Pious, of Aquitaine, of the monastery of Cluny, not far from Macon in eastern France.^ Cluny was to be free from all episcopal or worldly jurisdiction, self-governing, but under the protection of the Pope. Its lands were to be secure from all invasion or seculari- zation, and its rule that of Benedict, interpreted with great ascetic strictness. Cluny was governed by a series of abbots of remarkable character and ability. Under the first and second of these, Berno (910-927) and Odo (927-942), it had many imitators, through their energetic work. Even the mother Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino, in Italy, was reformed on Cluny lines, and, favored by Alberic, a mon- astery, St. Mary on the Aventine hill, was founded which rep- resented Cluny ideas in Rome. By the death of Odo the Cluny movement was wide-spread in France and Italy. It was no part of the original purpose of Cluny to bring other monasteries into dependence on it, or to develop far- reaching churchly political plans. Its aim was a monastic reformation by example and influence. Yet even at the death of the first abbot five or six monasteries were under the control of the abbot of Cluny. Under the fifth abbot, Odilo (994-1048), however, Cluny became the head of a "congrega- tion," since he brought all monasteries founded or reformed by Cluny into dependence on the mother house, their heads being appointed by and responsible to the abbot of Cluny himself. * Henderson, Selcd Historic'd Documents, pp, 329-333. 220 AIMS OF THE CLUNY REFORMS This was new In monastlcism, and It made Cluny practically an order, under a single head, with all the strength and influ- ence that such a constitution implies. It now came to have a force comparable with that of the Dominicans or Jesuits of later times. With this growth came an enlargement of the reformatory aims of the Cluny movement. An Illustration Is the "Truce of God." Though not originated by Cluny, It was taken up and greatly furthered by Abbot Odilo from 1040 onward. Its aim was to limit the constant petty wars between nobles by prescribing a closed season In memory of Christ's passion, from Wednesday evening till Monday morning, during which acts of violence should be visited with severe ecclesias- tical punishments. Its purpose was excellent; its success but partial. As the Cluny movement grew It won the support of the clergy, and became an effort, not for the reform of monastlcism, as at first, but for a wide-reaching betterment of clerical life. By the first half of the eleventh century the Cluny party, as a whole, stood in opposition to "Simony"^ and "Nicolaitanlsm."^ By the former was understood any giving or reception of a clerical office for money payment or other sordid consideration. By the latter, any breach of clerical celibacy, whether by marriage or concubinage. These reformers desired a worthy clergy, appointed for spiritual reasons, as the age understood worthiness. While many of the Cluny party, and even abbots of Cluny itself, had apparently no criticism of royal ecclesias- tical appointments. If made from spiritual motives, by the middle of the eleventh century a large section was viewing any investiture by a layman as simony, and had as Its reforma- tory ideal a papacy strong enough to take from the Kings and princes what it deemed their usurped powers of clerical designa- tion. This was the section that was to support Hildebrand in his great contest. Elsewhere than in the Cluny movement ascetic reform was characteristic of the tenth and eleventh centuries. In Lor- raine and Flanders a monastic revival of large proportions was instituted by Gerhard, abbot of Brogue (?-959). In Italy, Romuald of Ravenna (950V-1027) organized settlements of hermits, called "deserts," in which the strictest asceticism was practised, and from which missionaries and preachers went HENRY III RESCUES THE PAPACY 221 forth. The most famous "desert," which still exists and gave its name to the movement, is that of Camaldoli, near Arezzo. Even more famous was Peter Damiani (1007?-1072), likewise of Ravenna, a fiery supporter of monastic reform, and oppo- nent of simony and clerical marriage, who was, for a time, cardinal bishop of Ostia, and a leading ecclesiastical figure in Italy in the advancement of Hildebrandian ideas, preceding Hildebrand's papacy. It is evident that before the middle of the eleventh century a strong movement for churchly reform was making itself felt. Henry II had, in large measure, sympathized with it (ante, p. 218). Henry III (1039-105G) was even more under its influence. Abbot Hugh of Cluny (1049-1109) was a close friend of that Emperor, while the Empress, Agnes, from Aqui- taine, had been brought up in heartiest sympathy with the Cluny party, of which her father had been a devoted adherent. Henry HI was personally of a religious nature, and though he had no hesitation in controlling ecclesiastical appointments for political reasons as fully as his father, Conrad II, he would take no money for so doing, denounced simony, and appointed bishops of high character and reformatory zeal. The situation in Rome demanded Henry Ill's interference, for it had now become an intolerable scandal. Benedict IX, placed on the throne by the Tusculan party, had proved so unworthy that its rivals, the nobles of the Crescenzio faction, were able to drive him out of Rome, in 1044, and install their representative as Silvester HI in his stead. Benedict, however, was soon back in partial possession of the city, and now, tiring temporarily of his high office, and probably planning marriage, he sold it in 1045 for a price variously stated as one or two thou- sand pounds of silver. The purchaser was a Roman archpriest of good repute for piety, John Gratian, who took the name Gregory VI. Apparently the purchase was known to few. Gregory was welcomed at first by reformers like Peter Damiani. The scandal soon became public property. Benedict IX re- fused to lay down the papacy, and there w^re now three Popes in Rome, each in possession of one of the principal churches, and each denouncing the other two. Henry III now inter- fered. At a synod held by him in Sutri in December, 1046, Silvester III was deposed, and Gregory VI compelled to resign and banished to Germany. A few days later, a synod in Rome, 222 THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY under imperial supervision, deposed Benedict IX. Henry HI immediately nominated and the overawed clergy and people of the city elected a German, Suidger, bishop of Bamberg, as Clement II (1046-1047). Henry HI had reached the high- water mark of imperial control over the papacy. So grateful did its rescue from previous degradation appear that the reform party did not at first seriously criticise this imperial domina- tion ; but it could not long go on without raising the question of the independence of the church. The very thoroughness of Henry's work soon roused opposition. Henry HI had repeated occasion to show his control of the papal oflBce. Clement H soon died, and Henry caused another bishop of his empire to be placed on the papal throne as Dam- asus H. The new Pope survived but a few months. Henry now appointed to the vacant see his cousin Bruno, bishop of Toul, a thoroughgoing reformer, in full sympathy with Cluny, who now journeyed to Rome as a pilgrim, and after merely formal canonical election by the clergy and people of the city — for the Emperor's act was determinative — took the title of Leo IX (1049-1054). SECTION IX. THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY Leo IX set himself vigorously to the task of reform. His most effective measure was a great alteration wrought in the composition of the Pope's immediate advisers — the cardinals. The name, cardinal, had originally been employed to indicate a clergyman permanently attached to an ecclesiastical posi- tion. By the time of Gregory I (590-604), its use in Rome was, however, becoming technical. From an uncertain epoch, but earlier than the conversion of Constantine, in each district of Rome a particular church was deemed, or designated, the most important, originally as the exclusive place for baptisms probably. These churches were known as "title" churches, and their presbyters or head presbyters were the "cardinal" or leading priests of Rome. In a similar way, the heads of the charity districts into which Rome was divided in the third century were known as the "cardinal" or leading deacons. At a later period, but certainly by the eighth century, the bishops in the immediate vicinity of Rome, the "suburbi- earian" or suburban bishops, were called the "cardinal bish- THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY 223 ops." This division of the college of cardinals into "cardinal bishops," "cardinal priests," and "cardinal deacons" persists to the present day. As the leading clergy of Rome and vicinity, they were, long before the name "cardinal" became exclusively or even primarily attached to them, the Pope's chief aids and advisers. On attaining the papacy Leo IX found the cardinalate filled with Romans, and so far as they were representative of the noble factions which had long controlled the papacy before Henry IH's intervention, with men unsympathetic with reform. Leo IX appointed to several of these high places men of reformatory zeal from other parts of Western Christendom. He thus largely changed the sympathies of the cardinalate, surrounded himself with trusted assistants, and in considerable measure rendered the cardinalate thenceforth representative' of the Western Church as a whole and not simply of the local Roman community. It was a step of far-reaching consequence. Three of these appointments were of special significance.; Humbert, a monk of Lorraine, was made cardinal bishop, and to his death in 1061 was to be a leading opponent of lay inves-' titure and a force in papal politics. Hugh the White, a monk from the vicinity of Toul, who was to live till after 1098, be- came a cardinal priest, was long to be a supporter of reform, only to become for the last twenty years of his life the most embittered of opponents of Hildebrand and his successors. Finally, Hildebrand himself, who had accompanied Leo IX from Germany, was made a sub-deacon, charged with the finan- cial administration, in some considerable measure, of the Ro- man see. Leo IX appointed other men of power and reforma- tory zeal to important, if less prominent, posts in Rome and its vicinity. _ Hildebrand, who now came into association with the car- dinalate, is the most remarkable personality in mediaeval papal history. A man of diminutive stature and unimpressive appearance, his power of intellect, firmness of will, and limit- lessness of design made him the outstanding figure of his age. Born in humble circumstances in Tuscany, not far from the year 1020, he was educated in the Cluny monastery of St. Mary on the Aventine in Rome, and early inspired with the most radical of reformatory ideals. He accompanied Gregory VI to Germany on that unlucky Pope's banishment {ante, 224 LEO IX. EAST AND WEST DIVIDED p. 221), and thence returned to Rome with Leo IX. Probably he was already a monk, but whether he was ever in Cluny it- self is doubtful. He was, however, still a young man, and to ascribe to him the leading influence under the vigorous Leo IX is an error. Leo was rather his teacher. Leo IX entered vigorously on the work of reform. He stood in cordial relations with its chief leaders, Hugo, abbot of Cluny, Peter Damiani, and Frederick of Lorraine. He made exten- sive journeys to Germany and France, holding synods and enforcing papal authority. At his first Easter synod in Rome, in 1049, he condemned simony and priestly marriage in the severest terms. A synod held under his presidency in Rheims the same year affirmed the principle of canonical election, "no one shall be promoted to ecclesiastical rulership without the choice of the clergy and people." By these journeys and assemblies the influence of the papacy was greatly raised. In his relations with southern Italy and with Constantinople Leo IX was less fortunate. The advancing claims of the Nor- mans, who since 1016 had been gradually conquering the lower part of the peninsula, were opposed by the Pope, who asserted possession for the papacy. Papal interference with the churches, especially of Sicily, which still paid allegiance to Constantinople, aroused the assertive patriarch of that city, INIichael Cerularius (1043- 105S), who now, in conjunction with Leo, the metropolitan of Bulgaria, closed the churches of the Latin rite in their regions and attacked the Latin Church in a letter written by the latter urging the old charges of Photius (a7ite, p. 213), and adding a condemnation of the use of un- leavened bread in the Lord's Supper — a custom which had be- come common in the West in the ninth century. Leo IX replied by sending Cardinal Humbert and Frederick of Lor- raine, the papal chancellor, to Constantinople in 1054, by whom an excommunication of INIichael Cerularius and all his followers was laid on the high altar of St. Sofia. This act has been usually regarded as the formal separation of the Greek and Latin Churches. In 1053 Leo's forces were defeated and he himself captured by the Normans. He did not long survive this catastrophe, dying in 1054. On the death of Leo IX, Henry HI appointed another Ger- man, Bishop Gebhard of Eichstadt, as Pope. He took the title of Victor II (1055-1057). Though friendly to the reform THE PAPACY SEEKS INDEPENDENCE 225 party, Victor II was a devoted admirer of his imperial patron, and on the unexpected death of the great Emperor in 1156, did much to secure the quiet succession of Henry Hi's son Henry IV, then a boy of six, under the regency of the Empress Mother, Agnes. Less than a year later Victor II died. SECTION X. THE PAPACY BREAKS WITH THE EMPIRE Henry Ill's dominance was undoubtedly displeasing to the more radical reformers, who had endured it partly of necessity, since it was not apparent how the papacy could otherwise be freed from the control of the Roman nobles, and partly because of Henry's sympathy with many features of the reform move- ment. Henry himself had been so firmly intrenched in his control of the German church, and of the papacy itself, that the logical consequences of the reform movement appear not to have been clear to him. Now he was gone. A weak re- gency had taken his place. The time seemed ripe to the re- formers for an advance which should lessen imperial control, or, if possible, end it altogether. On Victor II's death the Romans, led by the reform clergy, chose Frederick of Lorraine Pope as Stephen IX (1057-1058) without consulting the German regent. A thoroughgoing reformer, the new Pope was the brother of Duke Godfrey of Lorraine, an enemy of the German imperial house, who by his marriage with the Countess Beatrice of Tuscany had become the strongest noble in northern Italy. Under Stephen, Cardinal Humbert now issued a programme for the reform party in his Three Books Against the Simoniacs, in which he declared all lay appointment invalid and, in especial, attacked lay investi- ture, that is the gift by the Emperor of a ring and a staff to the elected bishop in token of his induction into office. The victory of these principles would undermine the foundations of the imperial power in Germany. Their strenuous asser- tion could but lead to a struggle of gigantic proportions. Nevertheless, Stephen did not dare push matters too far. He, therefore, sent Hildebrand and Bishop Anselm of Lucca, who secured the approval of the Empress Agnes for his papacy. Scarcely had this been obtained when Stephen died in Flor- ence. Stephen's death provoked a crisis. The Roman nobles re- 226 HILDEBRAXD'S LEADERSHIP asserted their old authority over the papacy and chose their own partisan, Benedict X, only a week later. The reform cardinals had to flee. Their cause seemed for the moment lost. The situation was saved by the firmness and political skill of Hildebrand. He secured the approval of Godfrey' of Tuscany and of a part of the people of Rome for the candidacy of Gerhard, bishop of Plorence, a reformer and, like Godfrey, a native of Lorraine. A representative of this Roman minority obtained the consent of the regent, Agnes. Hildebrand now gathered the reform cardinals in Siena, and Gerhard was there chosen as Nicholas H (1058-1061). The military aid of God- frey of Tuscany soon made the new Pope master of Rome. Under Nicholas H the real power was that of Hildebrand, and in lesser degree of the cardinals Humbert and Peter Damiani. The problem was to free the papacy from the control of the Roman nobles without coming under the overlordship of the Emperor. Some physical support for the papacy must be found. The aid of Tuscany could be counted as assured. Beatrice and her daughter, Matilda, were to be indefatigable in assistance. Yet Tuscany was not sufficient. Under the skilful guidance of Hildebrand, Nicholas II entered into cordial relations with the Normans, who had caused Leo IX so much trouble, recognized their conquests, and received them as vassals of the papacy. With like ability, intimate connections were now established, largely through the agency of Peter Damiani and Bishop Anselm of Lucca, with the democratic party in Lombardy known as the Pataria, opposed to the anti- reformatory and imperialistic higher clergy of that region. Strengthened by these new alliances, Nicholas II at the Roman synod of 1059 expressly forbad lay investiture under any cir- cumstances. The most significant event of the papacy of Nicholas II was the decree of this Roman synod of 1059 regulating choice to the papacy — the oldest written constitution now in force, since, in spite of considerable modification, it governs the selection of Popes to this day. In theory, the choice of the Pope had been, like that of other bishops, by the clergy and people of the city of his see. This was termed a canonical election. In practice, such election had meant control by whatever political power was dominant in Rome. The design of the new constitution was to remove that danger. In form, it put into law the cir- REFORM IN PAPAL ELECTIONS 227 cumstances of Nicholas's own election.^ Its chief author seems to have been Cardinal Humbert. It provided that, on the death of a Pope, the cardinal bishops shall first consider as to his successor and then advise with the other cardinals. Only after their selection has been made should the suffrages of the other clergy and people be sought. In studiously vague lan- guage, the document guards " the honor and reverence due to our beloved son Henry" — that is the youthful Henry IV — but does not in the least define the Emperor's share in the choice. The evident purpose was to put the election into the hands of the cardinals, primarily of the cardinal bishops. It was, furthermore, provided that the Pope might come from any- where in the church, that the election could be held elsewhere than in Rome in case of necessity, and that the Pope chosen should possess the powers of his oflfice immediately on election wherever he might be. This was, indeed, a revolution in the method of choice of the Pope, and would give to the office an independence of political control not heretofore possessed. Scarcely had these new political and constitutional results been achieved than they were imperilled by the death of Nicholas II in 106L That of the energetic Cardinal Humbert also occurred the same year. Hildebrand became more than ever the ruling force in the reform party. Within less than three months of Nicholas's death, Hildebrand had secured the election of his friend Anselm, bishop of Lucca, as Alexander II (1061-1073). The German bishops were hostile, however, to the new method to papal election, the Lombard prelates dis- liked the papal support of the Pataria, and the Roman nobles resented their loss of control over the papacy. These hostile elements now united, and at a German assembly held in Basel in 1061 procured from the Empress-regent the appointment as Pope of Cadalus, bishop of Parma, who took the name of Honorius II. In the struggle that followed, Honorius nearly won; but a revolution in Germany in 1062 placed the chief power in that realm and the guardianship of the young Henry IV in the hands of the ambitious Anno, archbishop of Cologne. Anno wished to stand well with the reform party, and threw his influence on the side of Alexander, who was declared the rightful Pope at a synod of German and Italian prelates held ^ Text in Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 361-365. The so-called "Papal Version" is in all probability the original. 228 PAPACY AND EIVIPIRE IN CONTEST in Mantua in 1064. Thus Hildebrand's bold policy triumphed over a divided Germany. Alexander II, with Hildebrand's guidance, advanced the papal authority markedly. Anno of Cologne and Siegfried of Mainz, two of the most powerful prelates of Germany, were compelled to do penance for simony. He prevented Henry IV from secur- ing a divorce from Queen Bertha. He lent his approval to William the Conqueror's piratical expedition which resulted in the Norman conquest of England in 1066, and further aided William's plans by the establishment of Norman bishops in the principal English sees. He gave his sanction to the efforts of the Normans of southern Italy which were to result in the conquest of Sicily, Meanwhile Henry IV came of age in 1065. Far from being a weak King, he soon showed himself one of the most resourceful of German rulers. It was inevitable that the papal policy regarding ecclesiastical appointments should clash with that historic control by German sovereigns on which their power in the empire so largely rested. The actual dispute came over the archbishopric of Milan — a post of the first im- portance for the control of northern Italy. Henry had ap- pointed Godfrey of Castiglione-, whom Alexander had charged with simony. The Pataria of Milan chose a certain Atto, whom Alexander recognized as rightful archbishop. In spite of that act, Henry now secured Godfrey's consecration, in 1073, to the disputed post. The struggle was fully on. The contest involved the power of the imperial government and the claims of the radical papal reform party. Alexander looked upon Henry as a well-intentioned young nian, misled by bad advice, and he therefore excommunicated not Henry himself, but Henry's immediate counsellors as guilty of simony. Within a few days thereafter Alexander II died, leaving the great dispute to his successor. SECTION XI. IIILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV Hildebrand's election came about in curious disregard of the new constitution established under Nicholas II. During the funeral of Alexander H, in St. John Lateran, the crowd ac- claimed Hildebrand Pope, and carried him, almost in a riot, to the church of St. Peter in Chains, where he was enthroned. He took the name of Gregory VII (1073-1085). In his accession HILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV 229 the extremes! interpretation of the principles of Augustine's City of God had reached the papal throne. The papacy he viewed as a divinely appointed universal sovereignty, which all must obey, and to which all earthly sovereigns are responsible, not only for their spiritual welfare, but for their temporal good government. Though Cardinal Deusdedit, rather than Ililde- brand, was probably the author of the famous Dictatus, it well expresses Hildebrand's principles: "That the Roman Church was founded by God alone." "That the Roman pontiff alone can with right be called universal." "That he alone can de- pose or reinstate bishops." "That he alone may use [i. e., dis- pose of] the imperial insignia." "That it may be permitted him to depose Emperors." "That he himself may be judged of no one." "That he may absolve subjects from their fealty to wicked men."^ It was nothing less than an ideal of world- rulership. In view of later experience it may be called imprac- ticable and even unchristian; but neither Hildebrand nor his age had had that experience. It was a great ideal of a possible regenerated human society, effected by obedience to command- ing spiritual power, and as such was deserving of respect in those who held it, and worthy of that trial which alone could reveal its value or worthlessness. The opening years of Hildebrand's pontificate were favorable for the papacy. A rebellion against Henry IV by his Saxon subjects, who had many grievances, and the discontent of the nobles of other regions kept Henry fully occupied. In 1074 he did penance in Nuremberg before the papal legates, and prom- ised obedience. At the Easter synod in Rome in 1075, Hilde- brand renewed the decree against lay investiture, denying to Henry any share in creating bishops. A few months later Henry's fortunes changed. In June, 1075, his defeat of the Saxons made him apparently master of Germany, and his atti- tude toward the papacy speedily altered. Henry once more made an appointment to the archbishopric of Milan. Hilde- brand replied, in December, 1075, with a letter calling Henry to severe account.^ On January 24, 1076, Henry, with his nobles and bishops, held a council in Worms, at which the turn- coat cardinal, Hugh the White, was forward with personal ^ Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 366, 367 ; extracts in Robinson, Readings in European History, 1 : 274. 2 Henderson, pp. 367-371 ; Robinson, 1 : 276-279. 230 HILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV charges against Hildebrand. There a large portion of the Ger- man bishops joined in a fierce denunciation of Hildebrand and a rejection of his authority as Pope^ — an action for which the approval of the Lombard prelates was speedily secured. Hildebrand's reply was the most famous of mediaeval papal decrees. At the Roman synod of February 22, 1076, he ex- communicated Henry, forbad him authority over Germany and Italy, and released all Henry's subjects from their oaths of allegiance.^ It was the boldest assertion of papal authority that had ever been made. To it Henry replied by a fiery letter addressed to Hildebrand, "now no pope, but a false monk," in which he called on Hildebrand to "come down, to be damned throughout all eternity."^ Had Henry IV had a united Germany behind him the result might easily have been Hildebrand's overthrow. Germany was not united. The Saxons and Henry's other political enemies used the opportunity to make him trouble. Even the bishops had regard for the authority of a Pope they had nominally rejected. Henry was unable to meet the rising opposition. An assembly of nobles in Tribur, in October, 1076, declared that unless released from excommunication within a year he would be deposed, and the Pope was invited to a new assembly to meet in Augsburg, in February, 1077, at which the whole Ger- man political and religious situation should be considered, Henrys was in great danger of losing his throne. It became a matter of vital importance to free himself from excommunica- tion. Hildebrand refused all appeals; he would settle the ques- tions at Augsburg. Henry IV now resolved on a step of the utmost dramatic and political significance. He would meet Hildebrand before the Pope could reach the assembly in Augsburg and wring from him the desired absolution. He crossed the Alps in the winter and sought Hildebrand in northern Italy, through which the Pope was passing on his way to Germany. In doubt whether Henry came in peace or war, Hildebrand sought refuge in the strong castle of Canossa, belonging to his ardent supporter, the Countess Matilda of Tuscany, the daughter of Beatrice {ante, 1 Henderson, pp. 373-376. 'Henderson, pp. 376, 377; Robinson, 1:281, 282. ' Henderson, pp. 372, 373 ; Robinson, 1 : 279-281. The letter seems to belong here, rather than to Januaiy, 1076, to which it is often assigned. HILDEBRAND AND HEXRY IV 231 p. 226). Thither Henry went, and there presented himself before the castle gate on three successive days, barefooted as a penitent. The Pope's companions pleaded for him, and on January 28, 1077, Henry IV was released from excommunica- tion. In many ways it was a political triumph for the King. He had thrown his German opponents into confusion. He had prevented a successful assembly in Augsburg under papal lead- ership. The Pope's plans had been disappointed. Yet the event has always remained in men's recollection as the deepest humiliation of the mediaeval empire before the power of the church.^ In March, 1077, Henry's German enemies, without Hilde- brand's instigation, chose Rudolf, duke of Swabia, as counter- King. Civil war ensued, while the Pope balanced one claim- ant against the other, hoping to gain for himself the ultimate decision. Forced at last to take sides, Hildebrand, at the Roman synod in March, 1080, a second time excommunicated and deposed Henry.^ The same political weapons can seldom be used twice effectively. Sentiment had crystallized in Ger- many, and this time the Pope's action had little effect, Henry answered by a synod in Brixen in June, 1080, deposing Hilde- brand,' and choosing one of Hildebrand's bitterest opponents, Archbishop Wibert of Ravenna, as Pope in his place. Wibert called himself Clement III (1080-1100). The death of Rudolf in battle, in October following, left Henry stronger in Germany than ever before. He determined to be rid of Hildebrand. In 1081 Henry invaded Italy, but it was three years before he gained possession of Rome. Pressed upon by the overwhelming German and Lombard forces, Hildebrand's political supporters proved too weak to offer permanently effective resistance. The Roman people, and no less than thirteen of the cardinals, turned to the victorious German ruler and his Pope. In March, 1084, Wibert was enthroned, and crowned Henry Emperor. Hilde- brand, apparently a beaten man, still held the castle of San Angelo, and absolutely refused any compromise. In May a Norman army came to Hildebrand's relief, but these rough sup- porters so burned and plundered Rome, that he had to with- 1 The best account is that of Hildebrand himself. Henderson, pp. 385- 387 ; Robinson, 1 : 282-283. 2 Henderson, pp. 388-391. »IMd., pp. 391-394. 232 APPARENT DEFEAT BUT WORK CONTINUED draw with them, and after nearly a year of this painful exile, he died in Salerno, on May 25, 1085. Hildebrand's relations to other countries have been passed by in the account of his great struggle with Germany. It may be sufficient to say that his aims were similar, though so en- grossed was he in the conflict with Henry IV that he never pushed matters to such an extreme with the Kings of England and France. lie attempted to bring the high clergy every- where under his control. He caused extensive codification of church law to be made. He enforced clerical celibacy as not only the theoretical but the practical rule of the Roman Church. If his methods were worldly and unscrupulous, as they un- doubtedly were, no misfortune ever caused him to abate his claims, and even in apparent defeat he won a moral victory. The ideals that he had established for the papacy were to live long after him. SECTION XII. THE STRUGGLE ENDS IN COMPROMISE On the death of Hildebrand, the cardinals faithful to him chose as his successor Desiderius, the able and scholarly abbot of Monte Cassino, who took the name of Victor III (1086- 1087). So discouraging was the outlook that he long refused the doubtful honor. When at last he accepted it, he quietly dropped Hildebrand's extremer efforts at world-rulership, though renewing the prohibition of lay investiture with utmost vigor. He was, however, able to be in Rome but a few days. That city remained in the hands of Wibert, and before the end of 1087 Victor III was no more. The situation of the party of Hildebrand seemed well-nigh hopeless. After much hesita- tion, a few of the reform cardinals met in Terracina, and chose a French Cluny monk, who had been appointed a cardinal bishop by Hildebrand, Odo of Lagary, as Pope Urban II (1088- 1099). A man of Hildebrandian convictions, without Hilde- brand's genius. Urban was far more conciliatory and politically skilful. He sought with great success to create a friendly party among the German clergy, aided thereto by the monks of the influential monastery of Ilirschau. He stirred up dis- affection for Henr}^ IV, often by no worthy means. Yet it was not till the close of 109.3 that Urban was able to take effective possession of Rome and drive out Wibert. His rise in power THE STRUGGLE CONTINUED 233 was thence rapid. At a great synod held in Piacenza in March, 1095, he sounded the note of a crusade. At Clermont in No- vember of the same year he brought the Crusade into being (p. 239). On the flood of the crusading movement Urban rose at once to a position of European leadership, Henry IV and Wibert might oppose him, but the papacy had achieved a popular significance compared with which they had nothing to offer. Though men were weary of the long strife, the next Pope, Paschal II (1099-1118), made matters worse rather than bet- ter. Henry IV's last days were disastrous. A successful re- bellion, headed by his son, Henry V (1106-1125), forced his abdication in 1105. His death followed the next year. Henry V's position in Germany was stronger than his father's ever had been, and he was more unscrupulous. His assertion of his rights of investiture was as insistent as that of his father. In 1110 Henry V marched on Rome in force. Paschal II was pow- erless and without the courage of a Hildebrand. The Pope and Henry now agreed (1111) that the King should resign his right of investiture, provided the bishops of Germany should relin- quish to him all temporal lordships.^ That would have been a revolution that would have reduced the German church to poverty, and the protest raised on its promulgation in Rome, in February, 1111, showed it impossible of accomplishment. Henry V then took the Pope and the cardinals prisoners. Pas- chal weakened. In April, 1111, he resigned to Henry investi- ture with ring and staff, and crowned him Emperor.^ The Hil- debrand ian party stormed in protest. At the Roman synod of March, 1112, Paschal withdrew his agreement, which he could well hold was wrung from him by force. A synod in Vienne in September excommunicated Henry and forbad lay investiture, and this action the Pope approved. Yet the basis of a compromise was already in sight. Two French church leaders, Ivo, bishop of Chartres, and Hugo of Fleury, in writings between 1099 and 1106, had argued that church and state each had their rights of investiture, the one with spiritual, the other with temporal authority. Anselm, the famous archbishop of Canterbury, a firm supporter of reform principles (1093-1109), had refused investiture from Henry I 1 Henderson, pp. 405-407 ; Robinson, 1 : 290-292. 2 Henderson, pp. 407, 408. 234 THE CONXORDAT OF WORMS of England (1100-1135), and led to a contest which ended in the resignation by the King of investiture with ring and staff, while retaining to the crown investiture with temporal posses- sion by the reception of an oath of fealty. These principles and precedents influenced the further course of the controversy. The compromise came in 1122, in the Concordat of Worms, arranged between Henry V and Pope Calixtus H (1119-1124). By mutual agreement, elections of bishops and abbots in Ger- many were to be free and in canonical form, yet the presence of the Emperor at the choice was allowed, and in case of disputed election he should consult with the metropolitan and other bish- ops of the province. In other parts of the empire, Burgundy and Italy, no mention was made of the imperial presence. The Emperor renounced investiture with ring and staff, i. e., with the symbols of spiritual authority. In turn, the Pope granted him the right of investiture with the temporal possessions of the office by the touch of the royal sceptre, without demand of payment from the candidate. This imperial recognition was to take place in Germany before consecration, and in the other parts of the empire within six months thereafter.^ The effect was that in Germany at least a bishop or abbot must be accept- able both to the church and to the Emperor. In Italy the imperial power, which had rested on control of churchly ap- pointments, was greatly broken. It was an outcome of the struggle which would but partially have satisfied Hildebrand. Yet the church had won much. If not superior to the state, it had vindicated its equality with the temporal power. SECTION XIII. THE GREEK CHURCH AFTER THE PICTURE CONTROVERSY The Isaurian dynasty in Constantinople (717-802), witnessed the severe internal conflicts caused by the picture-worshipping controversy, which was in a measure a struggle for the freedom of the church from imperial control {ante, p. 162). It beheld the loss of Rome and of the Exarchate, and the rise of the renewed Western empire under Charlemagne. The periods of the Phrygian (820-867) and Macedonian dynasties (867-1057) were marked by a notable revival of learning, so that, intellec- tually, the Pkst was decidedly superior to the West. The pa- 1 Henderson, pp. 408, 409 ; Robinson, 1 : 292, 293. THE GREEK CHURCH. THE PAULICIANS 235 triarch, Photius, whose quarrel with Nicholas I has already been noted, was of eminent scholarship. His Myriobiblon is of permanent worth, as preserving much of ancient classical authors otherwise lost. Symeon "Metaphrastes" compiled his famous collection of the lives of the Eastern saints in the tenth century. In Symeon, "the New Theologian" (?-1040?), the Greek Church had its noblest mystic, who believed that the revelation of the divine light — the very vision of God — is pos- sible of attainment and is of grace, bringing peace, joy, and jus- tification. Theologically, the Greek world had nothing new to offer. It held with intensity to the traditions of the past. The chief religious controversy in the East of this epoch was that caused by the Paulicians. The origin and history of the movement is obscure. They called themselves Christians sim- ply, their nickname being apparently due to their reverence for Paul the Apostle, rather than as sometimes claimed to any real connection with Paul of Samosata. The movement ap- pears to have begun with a Constantine-Silvanus, of Mananalis, near Samosata, about 650-660. In it ancient heretical beliefs, akin to and perhaps derived from the Marcionites and Gnostics, reappeared. Though the Paulicians repudiated Manichaeism, they were dualists, holding that this world is the creation of an evil power, while souls are from the kingdom of the good God. They accepted the New Testament, with the possible exception of the writings ascribed to Peter, as the message of the righteous God. They viewed Christ as an angel sent by the good God, and hence Son of God by adoption. His work was primarily that of instruction. They rejected monasticism, the external sacraments, the cross, images, and relics. Their ministry was that of wandering preachers and " copyists." The Catholic hierarchy they repudiated. They opposed the ex- ternalism of current orthodox religious life. The Paulicians seem to have spread rapidly in the Eastern empire, and to have taken strong root in Armenia. Persecuted by the orthodox, their military powers procured them consider- able respect. Constantine V transplanted colonies of them to the Balkan peninsula in 752, as a defense against the Bulgarians — a process which was repeated on a larger scale by the Em- peror, John Tzimiskes, in 969. There they seem to have given origin to the very similar Bogomiles, who m turn were to be influential in the development of the Cathari of southern France 236 THE SCANDINAVIAN LANDS (p. 249). Driven to seek refuge among the Saracens, some sec- tions of the Paulicians harassed the borders of the empire in the ninth century, and even penetrated deeply into it, till their military success, though not their religious activity, was per- manently checked by the Emperor, Basil I, in 871. The latter half of the ninth and the tenth centuries was a period of revived military power for the Eastern empire, espe- cially under John Tzimiskes (969-976) and Basil II (976-1025). By the latter, Bulgaria and Armenia were conquered. Internal dissensions and a fear of usurping militarism weakened the empire in the eleventh century, so that the rise of the Seljuk Turks found it unprepared. In 1071 the Turks conquered a large part of Asia Minor, and in 1080 established themselves in Nicsea, less than a hundred miles from Constantinople. This great loss to Christianity was to be one of the causes leading to the Crusades. SECTION XIV. THE SPREAD OF THE CHURCH The tenth and eleventh centuries were an epoch of large extension of Christianity. Ansgar's work in the Scandinavian lands {ante, p. 213) had left few results. Scandinavian Chris- tianization was a slow and gradual process. Unni, archbishop of Hamburg (918-936), imitated Ansgar, but without great success. The work was carried forward by Archbishop Adaldag (937-988). Under his influence, King Harold Bluetooth of Denmark accepted Christianity, and Danish bishoprics were established. Under Harold's son, Sweyn, heathenism was again in power; but he was brought to favor the church in 995, and the work was completed in Denmark by King Canute the Great (1015-1035), who also ruled England and, for a time, Norway. The story of Norway is similar. Some Christian beginnings were made under Hakon I (935-961), and missionaries were sent by Harold Bluetooth of Denmark. Christianity in Nor- way was not permanently established till the time of Olaf I (995-1000), who brought in English preachers. The work was now extended to the Orkneys, Shetland, Hebrides, Faroe, Iceland, and Greenland, then in Scandinavian possession. Olaf II (1015-1028) enforced Christianity in Norway with such extreme measures that he was deposed and Canute gained HUNGARY, POLAND, AND RUSSIA 237 control; yet he lives in tradition as St. Olaf. Magnus I (1035- 1047) completed the work. In Sweden, after many beginnings from the time of Ansgar, Christianity was effectively established by King Olaf Skott- konung (994-1024), who was baptized in 1008. Yet the work was slow, and heathenism was not fully overthrown till about 1100. Finland and Lapland were not reached till two cen- turies later. After various efforts in the tenth century, Christianity was effectively established in Hungary by King Stephen I (997- 1038), the organizer of the Hungarian monarchy, who lives in history as St. Stephen. The Polish duke, Mieczyslaw, ac- cepted Christianity in 967, and in 1000 King Boleslaus I (992-1025) organized the Polish church with an archbishopric in Gnesen. Pomerania was not Christianized till 1124-1128. The movements just considered were the work of the Latin Church. The great extension of the Greek Church lies in this period and was accomplished by the conversion of Russia. Its beginnings are obscure. Efforts for the spread of Chris- tianity in Russia seem to have been made as early as the time of the patriarch of Constantinople Photius (866). The Rus- sian Queen, Olga, received baptism on a visit to Constantinople in 957. The work was at last definitely established by Grand- duke Vladimir I (980-1015), who received baptism in 988, and compelled his subjects to follow his example. A metro- politan, nominated by the patriarch of Constantinople, was placed at the head of the Russian church, with his see speedily in Kiev, from which it was transferred in 1299 to the city of Vladimir, and in 1325 to Moscow. PERIOD V. THE LATER MIDDLE AGES SECTION I. THE CRUSADES The Crusades are in many ways the most remarkable of the phenomena of the Middle Ages. Their causes were many. The historian who emphasizes economic influences may well claim the unusually trying conditions of the eleventh century as a main source. Between 970 and 1040 forty-eight famine years were counted. From 1085 to 1095 conditions were even worse. Misery and unrest prevailed widely. The more settled conditions of the age made impossible such migrations of nations as had been exhibited in the Germanic invasions at the downfall of the Western empire. The same desire to change environment was, however, felt. Stimulated by these economic conditions, doubtless, the whole eleventh century was a period of deepening religious feeling. Its manifestations took monastic and ascetic forms. It was characterized by a strong sense of " other-worldliness," of the misery of earth and the blessedness of heaven. This increasing religious zeal had been the force which had reformed the papacy, and had supported antagonism to simony and Nicolaitanism, and nerved the long struggle with the empire. Those regions where the reform movement had shone brightest, or which had come into closest relations with the reforming papacy, France, Lorraine, and southern Italy, were the recruit- ing-grounds of the chief crusading armies. The piety of the time placed great value on relics and pilgrimages, and what more precious relic could there be, or what nobler pilgrimage shrine, than the land hallowed by the life, death, and resurrec- tion of Christ? That land had been an object of pilgrimage since the days of Constantine. Though Jerusalem had been in IVIoslem possession since 638, pilgrimages had been, save for brief intervals, practically uninterrupted. They had never been more numerous than in the eleventh century, till the conquest of much of Asia Minor, from 1071 onward, and the capture of Jerusalem, by the Seljuk Turks, made pilgrimages almost impossible and desecrated the holy places. 238 CAUSES OF THE CRUSADES 239 It was to an age profoundly impressed with the spiritual advantage of pilgrimages that the news of these things came. The time, moreover, was witnessing successful contests with Mohammedanism. Between 1060 and 1090 the Normans of southern Italy had wrested Sicily from the Moslems. Under Ferdinand I of Castile (1028-1065) the effective Chris- tian reconquest of Spain from the Mohammedans had begun. The later eleventh century is the age of the Cid (1040?-1099). The feeling was wide-spread that Christianity could dispossess Mohammedanism. Love of adventure, hopes for plunder, desire for territorial advancement and religious hatred, un- doubtedly moved the Crusaders with very earthly impulses. We should wrong them, however, if we did not recognize with equal clearness that they thought they were doing something of the highest importance for their souls and for Christ. The first impulse to the Crusades came from an appeal of the Eastern Emperor, Michael VII (1067-1078), to Hildebrand for aid against the Seljuks. That great Pope, to whom this seemed to promise the reunion of (jreek and Latin Christen- dom, took the matter up in 1074, and was able to report to Henry IV of Germany that fifty thousand men were ready to go under the proper leadership. The speedy outbreak of the investiture struggle frustrated the plan. It was effectively to be revived by Urban II, the heir in so many directions of Hildebrand. ; Alexius I (1081-1118), a stronger ruler than his immediate predecessors in Constantinople, felt unable to cope with the perils which threatened the empire. He, therefore, appealed to Urban II for assistance. Urban received the imperial mes- sengers at the synod in Piacenza, in northern Italy, in March, 1095, and promised his help. At the synod held in Clermont, in eastern France, in the following November, Urban now proclaimed the Crusade in an appeal of almost unexampled consequence. The enterprise had magnified in his concep- tion from that of aid to the hard-pressed Alexius to a general rescue of the holy places from Moslem hands. He called on all Christendom to take part in the work, promising for- giveness of sins to all and eternal life to those who should fall in the enterprise. The message found immediate and enthu- siastic response. Among the popular preachers who took it up none was more famous than Peter the Hermit, a monk 240 THE FIRST CRUSADE from Amiens or its vicinity. Early legend attributed to him the origin of the Crusade itself, of which he was unquestionably one of the most effective proclaimers. He does not deserve the distinction thus attributed to him, nor was his conduct on the Crusade, once it had started, such as to do credit to his leadership or even to his courage. Such was the enthusiasm engendered, especially in France, that large groups of peasants, with some knights among them, set forth in the spring of 1096, under the lead of Walter the Penniless; a priest, Gottschalk, and Peter the Hermit himself. By some of these wild companies many Jews were massacred in the Rhine cities. Their own disorderly pillage led to savage reprisals in Hungary and the Balkans. That under Peter reached Constantinople, but was almost entirely destroyed by the Turks in an attempt to reach Nicsea. Peter himself did not share this catastrophe, joined the main crusading force, and survived the perils of the expedition. The real work of the First Crusade was accomplished by the feudal nobility of Europe. Three great armies were raised. That from Lorraine and Belgium included Godfrey of Bouillon, the moral hero of the Crusade, since he commanded the respect due to his single-minded and unselfish devotion to its aims, though not its ablest general. With Godfrey were his brothers, Baldwin and Eustace. Other armies from northern France were led by Hugh of Vermandois and Robert of Normandy. From southern France came a large force under Count Rai- mond of Toulouse, and from Norman Italy a well-equipped army led by Bohemund of Taranto and his nephew Tancred. The earliest of these forces started in August, 1096. No single commander led the hosts. Urban II had appointed Bishop Ademar of Puy his legate; and Ademar designated Constan- tinople as the gathering place. Thither each army made its way as best it could, arriving there in the winter and spring of 1096-1097, and causing Alexius no little difficulty by their disorder and demands. In May, 1097, the crusading army began the siege of Nicsea. Its surrender followed in June. On July 1 a great victory over the Turks near Dorylseum opened the route across Asia Minor, so that Iconium was reached, after severe losses through hunger and thirst, by the middle of August. By October the crusading host was before the walls of Antioch. That city THE FIRST CRUSADE 211 it captured only after a difficult siege, on June 3, 1098. Three days later the Crusaders were besieged in the city by the Turkish ruler Kerbogha of Mosul. The crisis of the Crusade was this time of peril and despair; but on June 28 Kerbogha was completely defeated. Yet it was not till June, 1099, that Jerusalem was reached, and not till July 15 that it was cap- tured and its inhabitants put to the sword. The complete defeat of an Egyptian relieving army near Ascalon on August 12, 1099, crowned the success of the Crusade. On the completion of the work, Godfrey of Bouillon was chosen Protector of the Holy Sepulchre. He died in July, 1100, and was succeeded by his abler brother, who had estab- lished a Latin county in Edessa, and now took the title of King Baldwin I (1100-1118). The Crusaders were from the feudal West, and the country was divided and organized in full feudal fashion. It included, besides the Holy Land, the principality of Antioch, and the counties of Tripoli and Edessa, which were practically independent of the King of Jerusalem. In the towns important Italian business settlements sprang up; but most of the knights were French. Under a patriarch of the Latin rite in Jerusalem, the country was divided into four arch- bishoprics and ten bishoprics, and numerous monasteries were established. The greatest support of the kingdom soon came to be the military orders. Of these, that of the Templars was founded by Hugo de Payens in 1119, and granted quarters near the site of the temple — hence their name — by King Baldwin II (1118-1131). Through the hearty support of Bernard of Clair- vaux the order received papal approval in 1128, and soon won wide popularity in the West. Its members took the usual monastic vows and pledged themselves, in addition, to fight for the defense of the Holy Land and to protect pilgrims. They were not clergy, but laymen. In some respects the order was like a modern missionary society. Those who sympathized with the Crusade, but were debarred by age or sex from a personal share in the work, gave largely that they might be represented by others through the order. Since property was mostly in land, the Templars soon became great land- holders in the West. Their independence and wealth made them objects of royal jealousy, especially after their original purpose had been frustrated by the end of the Crusades, and 242 THE MILITARY ORDERS. LATER CRI'SADE:S led to their brutal suppression in France in 1307 by King Philip IV (1285-1314). While the Crusades lasted they were a main bulwark of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Much the same thing may be said of the great rivals of the Templars, the Hospitallers or Knights of St. John. Charle- magne had founded a hospital in Jerusalem, which was de- stroyed in 1010. Refounded by citizens of Amalfi, in Italy, it was in existence before the First Crusade, and was named for the church of St. John the Baptist, near which it stood. This foundation was made into a military order by its grand master, Raymond du Puy (1120-1160?), though without neg- lecting its duties to the sick. After the crusading epoch it maintained a struggle with the Turks from its seat in Rhodes (1310-1523), and then from Malta (1530-1798). A third and later order was that of the Teutonic Knights, founded by Germans in 1190. Its chief work, however, was not to be in Palestine but, from 1229 onward, in Prussia, or as it is now known. East Prussia, where it was a pioneer in civilization and Christianization. In spite of feudal disorganization the kingdom of Jerusalem was fairly successful till the capture of Edessa by the Mo- hammedans in 1144 robbed it of its northeastern bulwark. Bernard of Clairvaux, now at the height of his fame, proclaimed a new Crusade and enlisted Louis VII of France (1137-1180) and the Emperor Conrad III (1138-1152) from Germany in 1146. In 1147 the Second Crusade set forth; but it showed little of the fiery enthusiasm of its predecessor, its forces largely perished in Asia Minor, and such as reached Palestine were badly defeated in an attempt to take Damascus, in 1148. It was a disastrous failure, and its collapse left a bitter feeling in the West toward the Eastern empire, to whose princes that failure, rightly or wrongly, was charged. One reason of the success of the Latin kingdom had been the quarrels of the Mohammedans. In 1171 the Kurdish gen- eral, Saladin, made himself master of Eg^pt; by 1174 he had secured Damascus, and by 1183 Saladin's territories surrounded the Latin kingdom on the north, east, and south. A united Mohammedanism had now to be met. Results soon followed. At Hattin the Latin army was defeated in July, 1187. The loss of Jerusalem and of most of the Holy Land speedily fol- lowed. The news of this catastrophe roused Europe to the LATER CRUSADES 243 Third Crusade (1189-1192). None of the Crusades was more elaborately equipped. Three great armies were led by the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (1152-1190), the first soldier of his age, by King Philip Augustus of France (1179-1223), and by King Richard "Coeur de Lion" of England (1189-1199). Frederick was accidentally drowned in Cilicia. His army, deprived of his vigorous leadership, was utterly ineffective. The quarrels between the Kings of France and England, and Philip's speedy return to France to push his own political schemes, rendered the whole expedition almost abortive. Acre was recovered, but Jerusalem remained in Moslem possession. The Fourth Crusade (1202-1204) was a small affair as far as numbers engaged, but of important political and religious consequences. Its forces were from the districts of northern France known as Champagne and Blois, and from Flanders. Men had become convinced that the true route to the recovery of Jerusalem was the preliminary conquest of Egypt. The Crusaders therefore bargained with the Venetians for trans- portation thither. Unable to raise the full cost, they accepted the proposition of the Venetians that, in lieu of the balance due, they stop on their way and conquer Zara from Hungary for Venice. This they did. A much greater proposal was now made to them. They should stop at Constantinople, and assist in dethroning the imperial usurper, Alexius HI (1195-1203). Alexius, son of the deposed Isaac II, promised the Crusaders large payment and help on their expedition provided they would overthrow the usurper, and crafty Venice saw bright prospects of increased trade. Western hatred of the Greeks contributed. Though Pope Innocent III forbad this division of purpose, the Crusaders were persuaded. Alexius III was easily driven from his throne ; but the other Alexius was unable to keep his promises to the Crusaders, who now with the Vene- tians, in 1204, captured Constantinople, and plundered its treasures. No booty was more eagerly sought than the relics in the churches, which now went to enrich the places of worship of the West. Baldwm of Flanders v/as made Emperor, and a large portion of the Eastern empire was divided, feudal fash- ion, among Western knights. Venice obtained a considerable part and a monopoly of trade. A Latin patriarch of Constanti- nople was appointed, and the Greek Church made subject to the Pope, The Eastern empire still continued, though it was 244 LATER CRUSADES not to regain Constantinople till 1261. This Latin conquest was disastrous. It greatly weakened the Eastern empire, and augmented the hatred between Greek and Latin Christianity. A melancholy episode was the so-called "Children's Crusade" of 1212. A shepherd boy, Stephen, in France, and a boy of Cologne, in Germany, Nicholas, gathered thousands of children. Straggling to Italy, they were largely sold into slavery in Egypt. Other crusading attempts were made. An expedition against Egypt, in 1218-1221, had some initial success, but ended in failure. It is usually called the Fifth Crusade. The most curious was the Sixth (1228-1229). The free-thinking Emperor Frederick II (1212-1250), had taken the cross in 1215, but showed no haste to fulfil his vows. At last, in 1227, he started, but soon put back. He seems to have been really ill, but Pope Gregory IX (1227-1241), believing him a deserter, and having other grounds of hostility, excommunicated him. In spite of the ban, Frederick went forward in 1228, and the next year secured, by treaty with the Sultan of Egypt, possession of Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth and a path to the coast. Jerusalem was once more in Christian keeping till 1244, when it was permanently lost. The crusading spirit was now well-nigh spent, though Louis IX of France (St. Louis, 1226-1270) led a disastrous expedition against Egypt in 1248-1250, in which he was taken prisoner, and an attack on Tunis in 1270, in which he lost his life. The last considerable expedition was that of Prince Edward, soon to be Edward I of England (1272-1307), in 1271 and 1272. In 1291, the last of the Latin holdings in Palestine was lost. The Crusades were over, though men continued to talk of new expeditions for nearly two centuries more. Viewed from the aspect of their purpose the Crusades were failures. They made no permanent conquest of the Holy Land. It may be doubted whetlier they greatly retarded the advance of Mohammedanism. Their cost in lives and treasure was enormous. Though initiated in a high spirit of devotion, their methods at best were not those which modern Christianity regards as illustrative of the (Jospel, and their conduct was disgraced throughout l)y quarrels, divided motives, and low standards of personal conduct. When their indirect results are examined, however, a very different estimate is to be made of their worth. Civilization is the result of so complex factors RESULTS OF THE CRUSADES 245 that it is hard to assign precise values to single causes. Europe would have made progress during this period had there been no Crusades. But the changes wrought are so remarkable that the conclusion is unavoidable that the largest single influence was that of the Crusades, By the commerce which the Crusades stimulated the cities of northern Italy and of the great trade route over the Alps and down the Rhine rose to importance. By the sacrifices of feudal lands and property which they involved, a new political element, that of the towns — a "third estate" — was greatly stimulated, especially in France. The mental horizon of the Western world was immeasurably extended. Thousands who had grown up in the densest ignorance and narrow-mindedness were brought into contact with the splendid cities and ancient civilization of the East. Everywhere there was intellectual awakening. The period witnessed the highest theological development of the Middle Ages — that of Scholasticism. It beheld great popular religious movements, in and outside of the church. It saw the development of the universities. In it the study of Roman law became a transforming influence. Modern vernacular literature began to flourish. A great artis- tic development, the national architecture of northern France, misnamed the Gothic, now ran its glorious career. The Europe of the period of the Crusades was awake and enlightened com- pared with the centuries which had gone before. Admitting that the Crusades were but one factor in this result, they were worth all their cost. SECTION II. NEW RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS The epoch of the First Crusade was one of increasing religious earnestness, manifesting itself in other-worldliness, asceticism, mystical piety, and emphasis on the monastic life. The long battle against simony and Nicolaitanism had turned popular sympathies from the often criticised "secular," or ordinary clergy, to the monks as the true representatives of the religious ideal. Cluny had, in a measure, spent its force. Its very success had led to luxury of living. New religious associations were arising, of which the most important was that of the Cistercians — an order which dominated the twelfth century as Cluny had the eleventh. 246 THE CISTERCIANS. BERNARD Like Cluny, the Cistercians were of French origin. A Bene- dictine monk, Robert, of the monastery of Montier, impressed with the ill-discipline of contemporary monasticism, founded a monastery of great strictness in Citeaux, not far from Dijon, in 1098. From the first, the purpose of the foundation of Citeaux was to cultivate a strenuous, self-denying life. Its buildings, utensils, even the surroundings of worship, were of the plainest character. In food and clothing it exercised great austerity. Its rule was that of Benedict, but its self-denial was far beyond that of Benedictines generally. Under its third abbot, Stephen Harding (1109-1134), an Englishman, the sig- nificance of Citeaux rapidly grew. Four affiliated monasteries were founded by 1115, under his leadership. Thenceforth its progress was rapid throughout all the West. By 1130, the Cistercian houses numbered thirty ; by 1168, two hundred and eighty-eight, and a century later six hundred and seventy-one. Over all these the abbot of Citeaux had authority, assisted by a yearly assembly of the heads of the affiliated monasteries. Much attention was devoted to agriculture, relatively little to teaching or pastoral work. The ideals were withdrawal from the world, contemplation, and imitation of "apostolic poverty." Not a little of the early success of the Cistercians was due to the influence of Bernard (1090-1153), the greatest religious force of his age, and, by common consent, deemed one of the chief of mediaeval saints. Born of knightly ancestry in Fontaines, near Dijon, he inherited from his mother a deeply religious nature. With some thirty companions, the fruit of his powers of persuasion, he entered the monastery of Citeaux, probably in 1112. Thence he went forth in 1115 to found the Cistercian monastery of Clairvaux, abbot of which he remained, in spite of splendid offers of ecclesiastical preferment, till his death. A man of the utmost self-consecration, his prime motive was a love to Christ, which in spite of extreme monastic self-mortification, found so evangelical an expression as to win the hearty approval of Luther and Calvin. The mystic contemplation of Christ was his highest spiritual joy. It determined not merely his own type of piety, but very largely that Of the age in its nobler expressions. Above all, men axlmired in Bernard a moral force, a consistency of character, which added weight to all that he said and did. Bernard was far too much a man of action to be confined BERNARD 247 to the monastery. The first preacher of his age, and one of the greatest of all ages, he moved his fellows profoundly, from whatever social class they might come. He conducted a vast correspondence on the problems of the time. The interests of the church, of which he was regarded as the most eminent ornament, led to wide journeyings. In particular, the healing of the papal schism which resulted in the double choice by the cardinals in 1130 of Innocent II (1130-1143) and Anacletus II (1130-1138) was Bernard's work. His dominating part in organizing the unfortunate Second Crusade has already been considered {ante, p. 242). His influence with the papacy seemed but confirmed when a former monk of Clairvaux was chosen as Eugene III (1145-1153), though many things that Eugene did proved not to Bernard's liking. Convinced that his own views were the only orthodox conceptions, he persuaded others, also, and secured the condemnation of Abelard (p. 265) by the synod of Sens in 1141, and its approval by the Pope. In 1145 Bernard preached, with some temporary success, to the heretics of southern France. In 1153 he died, the best known and the most widely mourned man of his age. Bernard's ascetic and other-worldly principles were repre- sented, curiously, in a man whom he bitterly opposed — Arnold of Brescia (?-1155). With all his devotion to "apostolic poverty," Bernard had no essential quarrel with the hierarchical organization of his day, or hostility to its exercise of power in worldly matters. Arnold was much more radical. Born in Brescia, a student in France, he became a clergyman in his native city. Of severe austerity, he advanced the opinion that the clergy should abandon all property and worldly power. So only could they be Christ's true disciples. In the struggle between Innocent II and Anacletus II he won a large following in Brescia, but was compelled to seek refuge in France, where he became intimate with Abelard, and was joined with him in condemnation, at Bernard's instigation, by the synod of Sens (1141). Bernard secured Arnold's expulsion from France. In 1143 the Roman nobles had thrown off the temporal control of the papacy and established what they believed to be a revival of the Senate. To Rome Arnold went. Pie was not a political leader so much as a preacher of "apostolic poverty." In 1145 Eugene III restored Arnold to church fellowship, but by 1147, Arnold and the Romans had driven Eugene out of 248 RADICAL REFORMERS the city. There Arnold remained influential till the accession of the vigorous Hadrian IV (1154-1159) — the only English- man who has ever occupied the papal throne. Hadrian, in 1155, compelled the Romans to expel Arnold by proclaiming an interdict forbidding religious services in the city ; and bar- gained with the new German sovereign, Frederick Barbarossa (1152-1190), for the destruction of Arnold as the price of im- perial coronation. In 1155 Arnold was hanged and his body burned. Though charged with heresy, these accusations are vague and seem to have had little substance. Arnold's .real offense was his attack upon the riches and temporal power of the church. Far more radical had been a preacher in southern France, in the opening years of the twelfth century — Peter of Bruys, of whose origin or early life little is known. With a strict as- ceticism he combined the denial of infant baptism, the rejec- tion of the Lord's Supper in any form, the repudiation of all ceremonies and even of church buildings, and the rejection of the cross, which should be condemned rather than honored as the instrument through which Christ had suffered. Peter also opposed prayers for the dead. Having burned crosses in St. Gilles, he was himself burned by the mob at an uncertain date, probably between 1120 and 1130. Reputed to be Peter's disciple, but hardly so to be regarded was Henry, called "of Lausanne," once a Benedictine monk, who preached, with large following, from 1101 till his death after 1145, in western and especially southern France. Above all, a preacher of ascetic righteousness, he denied in ancient Donatist spirit the validity of sacraments administered by unworthy priests. His test of worthiness was ascetic life and apostolic poverty. By this standard he condemned the wealthy and power-seeking clergy. Arnold, Peter, and Henry have been proclaimed Protestants before the Reformation. To do so is to misunderstand them. Their conception of salvation was essentially mediaeval. They carried to a radical extreme a criticism of the worldly aspects of clerical life which was widely shared and had its more con- servative manifestation in the life and teachings of Bernard. THE CATHARI 249 SECTION III. ANTICHURCHLY SECTS. CATHARI AND WAI^ DENSES. THE INQUISITION The Manichseism of the later Roman Empire, of which Augustine was once an adherent {ante, pp. 107, 176), seems never absokitely to have died out in the West. It was stimu- lated by the accession of Paulicians and Bogomiles {ante, p. 235) whom the persecuting policy of the Eastern Emperors drove from Bulgaria, and by the new intercourse with the East fos- tered by the Crusades. The result was a new Manichseism. Its adherents were called Cathari, as the "Pure," or Albigenses, from Albi, one of their chief seats in southern France. With the ascetic and enthusiastic impulse which caused and accompanied the Crusades, the Cathari rose to great activity. Though to be found in many parts of Europe, their chief regions were southern France, northern Italy, and northern Spain. In southern France, Bernard himself labored in vain for their con- version. With the criticism of existing churchly conditions consequent upon the disastrous failure of the Second Crusade {ante, p. 242), they multiplied with great rapidity. In 1167 they were able to hold a widely attended council in St. Felix de Caraman, near Toulouse ; and before the end of the century they had won the support of a large section, possibly a majority, of the population of southern France and the protection of its princes. In northern Italy they were very numerous. The Cathari in Florence alone in 1228 counted nearly one-third of the inhabitants. By the year 1200 they were an exceeding peril for the Roman Church. In the movement the ascetic spirit of the age found full expression, and criticism of the wealth and power of the church saw satisfaction in complete rejection of its clergy and claims. Like the ancient Manichses, the Cathari were dualists. The Bogomiles and many of the Cathari of Italy held that the good God had two sons, Satanel and Christ — of whom the elder re- belled and became the leader of evil. The Cathari of France generally asserted two eternal powers, the one good, the other malign. All agreed that this visible world is the work of the evil power, in which souls, taken prisoners from the realm of the good God, are held in bondage. The greatest of sins, the original sin of Adam and Eve, is human reproduction, whereby the number of prison-houses is increased. Salvation is by re- 250 THE CATHARI pentance, asceticism, and the "consolation." This rite, like baptism in the church, works forgiveness of sins and restora- tion to the kingdom of the good God. It is conferred by laying on of hands by one who has received it, together with placing the Gospel of John on the head of the candidate. It is the true apostolical succession. One who has received the "con- solation" becomes perfect, a perfechis; but lest he lose the grace, he must henceforth eschew marriage, avoid oaths, war, posses- sion of property, and the eating of meat, milk, or eggs, since they are the product of the sin of reproduction. The "perfect," or, as they were called in France, the bons hommes — good men — were the real clergy of the Cathari, and there are notices of "bishops" and even of a "Pope" among them, though exactly what the gradations in authority were it is impossible to say. By a convenient belief the majority of adherents, the credenti or "believers," were allowed to marry, hold property, and en- joy the good things of this world, even outwardly to conform to the Roman Church, assured that, should they receive the "consolation" before death, they would be saved. Those who died unconsoled would, in the opinion of most of the Cathari, be reincarnated in human, or even animal, bodies till at last they, too, should be brought to salvation. The "believers" seem not always to have been fully initiated into the tenets of the system. The Cathari made great use of Scripture, which they trans- lated and in which they claimed to find their teachings. Some rejected the Old Testament entirely as the work of the evil power, others accepted the Psalms and the prophets. All be- lieved the New Testament to come from the good God. Since all things material are of evil, Christ could not have had a real body or died a real death. They therefore rejected the cross. The sacraments, with their material elements, were evil. The good God is dishonored by the erection of churches built and ornamented with material creations of the evil power. The services of the Cathari were simple. The Scriptures were read, especially the Gospel of John, as the most spiritual of all. A sermon was preached. The "believers" then knelt and adored the "perfect" as those indwelt with the divine Spirit. The "perfect," in turn, gave their blessing. Only the Lord's Prayer was used in the service. A common meal, at which the bread was consecrated, was held in many places THE WALDENSES 251 once a month, as a kind of Lord's Supper. The student of the movement will find in it extremely interesting survivals of ancient Christian rites and ceremonies, orthodox and heretical. In general, the "perfect" seem to have been men and women of uprightness, moral earnestness, and courageous steadfast- ness in persecution. Of their effectiveness in gaining the alle- giance of thousands, especially from the humbler walks of life, there can be no question. Unlike the Cathari, the Waldenses originated in no conscious hostility to the church and, had they been treated with skill, would probably never have separated from it. In 1176 Valdez, or Waldo, a rich merchant of Lyons, impressed by the song of a wandering minstrel recounting the sacrifices of St. Alexis, asked a master of theology " the best way to God." The clergy- man quoted that golden text of monasticism : " If thou wouldst be perfect, go, sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me."^ Val- dez put this counsel literally into practice. Providing modestly for his wife and daughters, he gave the rest of his means to the poor. He determined to fulfil the directions of Christ to the Apostles^ absolutely. He would wear the raiment there desig- nated. He would live by what was given him. To know his duty better he procured a translation of the New Testament. His action made a deep impression on his friends. Here, they thought, was true "apostolic poverty." By 1177 he was joined by others, men and women, and the little company undertook to carry further Christ's directions by preaching repentance. They called themselves the " Poor in Spirit." ^ They now appealed to the Third Lateran Council, in 1179, for permission to preach. The council did not deem them heret- ical. It thought them ignorant laymen, and Pope Alexander III (1159-1181) refused consent. This led to decisive action. Valdez, who appears in what is known of his later history as determined, not to say obstinate, felt that this refusal was the voice of man against that of God. He and his associates con- tinued preaching. As disobedient, they were, therefore, ex- communicated, in 1184, by Pope Lucius III (1181-1185). These unwise acts of the papacy not only forced the Wal- denses out of the church against their will, they brought to them a considerable accession. The Humiliati were a company » Matt. 19". ' Matt. 10. ' Probably from Matt. 5'. 252 THE WALDENSES of lowly folk who had associated themselves for a common life of penance in and about Milan. These, too, were forbidden to hold separate meetings, or to preach, by Alexander III, and were excommunicated in 1184 for disobedience. A very considerable part of these Lombard Humiliati now joined the Waldenses, and came under the control of Valdez. The early characteristics of the Waldenses now rapidly developed. Chief of all was the principle that the Bible, and especially the New Testament, is the sole rule of belief and life. Yet they read it through thoroughly mediaeval spectacles. It was to them a book of law — of minute prescriptions, to be followed to the letter. Large portions were learned by heart. In accordance with what they believed to be its teachings they went about, two by two, preaching, clad in a simple woollen robe, bare- footed or wearing sandals, living wholly on the gifts of their hearers, fasting on ]\Iondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, reject- ing oaths and all shedding of blood, and using no prayers but the Lord's and a form of grace at table. They heard confes- sions, observed the Lord's Supper together, and ordained their members as a ministry. As unbiblical, they rejected masses and prayers for the dead, and denied purgatory. They held the sacraments invalid if dispensed by unworthy priests. They believed prayer in secret more effective than in church. They defended lay preaching by men and women. They had bishops, priests, and deacons, and a head, or rector, of the society. The first was Valdez himself; later appointment was by election. Besides this inner circle, the society proper, they soon developed a bod}^ of sympathizers, "friends" or "be- lievers," from whom the society was recruited, but who re- mained outwardly in communion with the Roman Church. Most of this development seems to have been immediately sub- sequent to their excommunication in 1184. Much of it was due to Catharite example, yet they opposed the Cathari and justly regarded themselves as widely different. Certain conflicts of opinion, and a feeling that the govern- ment of Valdez was arbitrary, led to the secession of the Lom- bard branch by 1210 — a breach that attempts at reunion in 1218, after Valdez's death, failed to heal. The two bodies remained estranged. The able Pope, Innocent III (1198-1216), improved these disputes by countenancing in 1208 the organ- ization of paupercs catholici, which allowed many of the prac- CRUSADE AGAINST THE CATHARI 253 tices of the Waldenses under strict churchly oversight. Con- siderable numbers were thus won back to the church. Never- theless, the Waldensian body spread. Waldenses were to be found in northern Spain, in Austria and Germany, as well as in their original homes. They were gradually repressed, till their chief seat came to be the Alpine valleys southwest of Turin, where they are still to be found. At the Reformation they readily accepted its principles, and became fully Protes- tant. Under modern religious freedom they are laboring with success in many parts of Italy. Their story is one of heroic endurance of persecution — a most honorable history — and they are the only mediaeval sect which still survives, though with wide modification of their original ideals and methods. By the opening of the thirteenth century the situation of the Roman Church in southern France, northern Italy, and north- ern Spain was dubious. Missionary efforts to convert Cathari and Waldenses had largely failed. It was felt that sharper measures were needed. A crusade was ordered as early as 1181 by Pope Alexander III (1159-1181), against the viscount of Beziers as a supporter of the Cathari, but it accomplished little. Under Innocent III (1198-1216) the storm broke. After having vainly tried missionary efforts, the murder of the papal legate, Peter of Castelnau, in 1208, induced Innocent to proclaim a crusade against the heretics of southern France. The attack was agreeable to the French monarchy, which had found the nobles of the region too independent vassals. These combined interests of Pope and King led to twenty years of destructive warfare (1209-1229), in which the power of the southern nobles was shattered and cities and provinces devas- tated. The defenders of the Cathari were rendered impo- tent or compelled to join in their extermination. The termination of the struggle was followed by a synod of much importance held in Toulouse in 1229. The Cathari and Waldenses had made much use of the Bible. The synod, there- fore, forbad the laity to possess the Scriptures, except the psalter and such portions as are contained in the breviary, and especially denounced all translations. The decree was, indeed, local, but similar considerations led to like prohibitions in Spain and elsewhere. No universal denial of Bible reading by the laity was issued during the Middle Ages. A second act of significance which marked the synod of Tou- 254 THE INQUISITION louse was the beginning of a systematic Inquisition. The ques- tion of the punishment of heretics had been undetermined in the earher INIiddle Ages. There had been a good many instances of death, generally by fire, at the hands of rulers, churchmen, or the mob, but ecclesiastics of high standing had opposed. The identification of the Catharl with the Manlchseans, against whom the later Roman Emperors had denounced the death penalty, gave such punishment the sanction of Roman law. Peter II of Aragon, in 1197, ordered the execution of heretics by fire. Pope Innocent III (1198-1216) held that heresy, as treason against God, was of even greater helnousness than treason against a King. The investigation of heresy was not as yet systematized. That task the synod of Toulouse under- took. Its work was speedily perfected by Pope Gregory IX (1227-1241), who intrusted the discovery of heresy to inquisi- tors chosen chiefly from the Dominican order — a body formed with very different aims. As speedily developed, the inquisi- tion became a most formidable organ. Its proceedings were secret, the names of his accusers were not given to the prisoner, who, by a bull of Innocent IV, in 1252, was liable to torture. The confiscation of the convict's property was one of its most odious and economically destructive features, and, as these spoils were shared by the lay authorities, this feature undoubt- edly kept the fires of persecution burning where otherwise they would have died out. Yet, thanks to the inquisition, and other more praiseworthy means shortly to be described, the Cathari were utterly rooted out in the course of a httle more than a century, and the Waldenses greatly repressed. This earlier success accounts. In large measure, for the tenacity with which the Roman Church clung to the inquisition in the Reformation age. SECTION IV. THE DOMINICANS AND FRANCISCANS The Cathari and Waldenses profoundly affected the medi- aeval church. Out of an attempt to meet them by preachers of equal devotion, asceticism, and zeal, and of greater learning, grew the order of the Dominicans. In the same atmosphere of "apostoHc poverty" and literal fulfilment of the commands of Christ in which the Waldenses flourished, the Franciscans had their birth. In these two orders mediaeval monasticism DOMINIC AND THE DOMINICANS 2.3 zoo had its noblest exemplification. In Francis of AssisI mediaeval piety had its highest and most inspiring representative. Dominic was a native of Calaroga, in Castile, and was born in 1170. A brilliant student in Palencia, and a youth of deep religious spirit, he became a canon of Osma, about ninety miles northeast of Madrid. From 1201 he enjoyed the friend- ship of a kindred spirit, Diego of Acevedo, the bishop of Osma. The two journeyed on political business in 1203 through south- ern France, where the Cathari were then in the height of their power. There they found the Roman missionaries treated with contempt. At a meeting with these missionary leaders in Montpellier, in 1204, Diego urged a thorough reform of method. Only by missionaries as self-denying, as studious of "apostolic poverty," and as eager to preach as the "perfect" of the Cathari, could these wanderers be won back to the Roman fold. Moved by the bishop's exhortation, the missionaries endeavored to put his advice into practice. A nunnery, chiefly for converted Catharite women, was established in 1206, in Prouille, not far from Toulouse. Thus far Diego seems to have been the leader, but he had to return to his diocese, and died in 1207. Thenceforward Dominic carried on the work. The storm of the great anti-Cathari war made it most discouraging. Dominic was tempted by the offer of bishoprics to leave so thankless a task, but he persisted. He would take the Apostle Paul as his model. He would win the people by preaching. Gradually he gathered like-minded men about him. In 1215 friends presented them a house in Toulouse. The same year Dominic visited the Fourth Lateran Council in Rome, seeking papal approval for a new order. It was refused, though his efforts were commended, and he now adopted the so-called "Rule" of St. Augustine. Recognition amounting to the practical establishment of the order was, however, obtained from Pope Honorius III (1216-1227) in 1216. Even in 1217, when the new association numbered but a few, Dominic determined to send his preachers widely. With a view to influencing future leaders, he directed them first to the great centres of education, Paris, Rome, and Bologna. The order grew with amazing rapidity. Its first general chap- ter was held in Bologna in 1220. Here, under the influence of Franciscan example, it adopted the principle of meiidicancy — the members should beg even their daily food. By this chap- 256 DOMINIC AND THE DOIMINtCANS ter, or that of the following year, the constitution of the "Or- der of Preachers," or Dominicans, as they were popularly called, was developed. At the head was a "master-general," chosen by the general chapter, originally for life. The field was di- vided into "provinces," each in charge of a "provincial prior," elected for a four-year term by the provincial chapter. Each monastery chose a "prior," also for four years. The general chapter included the "master-general," the "provincial priors," and an elected delegate from each province. The system was one, therefore, that combined ingeniously authority and representative government. It embraced monasteries for men, and nunneries for women, though the latter were not to preach, but ultimately developed large teaching activities. Dominic died in 1221. The order then numbered sixtj^ houses, divided among the eight provinces of Provence, Tou- louse, France, Lombardy, Rome, Spain, Germany, and Eng- land, and for years thereafter it increased rapidly. Always zealous for learning, it emphasized preaching and teaching, sought work especially in university towns, and soon became widely represented on the university faculties. Albertus Mag- nus and Thomas Aquinas, the theologians ; Eckliart and Tauler, the mystics; Savonarola, the reformer, are but a few of the great names that adorn the catalogue of Dominicans. Their learning led to their employment as inquisitors — a use that formed no part of Dominic's ideal. The legends which represent him as an inquisitor are baseless. He would win men, as did his example, Paul, by preaching. To achieve that result he would undergo whatever sacrifice or asceticism that would make his preachers acceptable to those whom they sought. Yet it is evident that lowly, self-sacrificing and democratic as were Dominic's aims, the high intellectualism of his order tended to give it a relatively aristocratic flavor. It represented, however, an emphasis on work for others, such as had ap- peared in the Waldenses. Its ideal was not contemplation apart from the world, but access to men in their needs. Great as was the honor paid to Dominic and the Dominicans, it was exceeded by the popular homage given to the Francis- cans, and especially to their founder. The austere preacher, of blameless youth, planning how he may best reach men, and adopting poverty as a means to that end, is not so winsome a figure as that of the gay, careless young man who sacrifices all FRANCIS OF ASSISI 257 for Christ and liis fellows, and adopts poverty not as a recom- mendation of his message, but as the only means of being like his Master. In Francis of Assisi is to be seen not merely the greatest of mediaeval saints, but one, who through his absolute sincerity of desire to imitate Christ in all things humanly pos- sible, belongs to all ages and to the church universal. Giovanni Bernadone was born in 1181 or 1182, the son of a cloth merchant of Assisi, in central Italy. To the boy the nickname Francesco — Francis — was given, and soon sup- planted that bestowed on him in baptism. His father, a seri- ous man of business, was little pleased to see the son leading in the mischief and revelry of his young companions. A year's experiences as a prisoner of war in Perugia, following a defeat in which he had fought on the side of the common people of Assisi, against the nobles, wrought no change in his life. A serious illness began to develop another side of his character. He joined a military expedition to Apulia, but withdrew, for what reason is not evident. His conversion was a gradual proc- ess. " When I was yet in my sins it did seem to me too bitter to look upon the lepers, but the Lord Himself did lead me among them, and I had compassion upon them. When I left them, that which had seemed to me bitter had becojne sweet and easy." ^ This note of Christ-like compassion was that to which Francis's renewed nature first responded. On a pil- grimage to Rome he thought he heard the divine command to restore the fallen house of God. Taking it literally, he sold cloth from his father's warehouse to rebuild the ruined church of St. Damian, near Assisi. Francis's father, thoroughly dis- gusted with his unbusinesslike ways, now took him before the bishop to be disinherited; but Francis declared that he had henceforth no father but the Father in heaven. This event was probably in 1206 or 1207. For the next two years Francis wandered in and about Assisi, aiding the unfortunate, and restoring churches, of which his favorite was the Fortiuncula, in the plain outside the town. There, in 1209, the words of Christ to the Apostles,^ read in the service, came to him, as they had to Valdez, as a trumpet-call to action. He would preach repentance and the kingdom of ^ Testament of FTancis. Highly illuminative as to his spirit and pur- poses. Robinson, Readings, 1 : 392-395. 2 Matt. 10^-1^. 258 FRANCIS OF ASSISI God, without money, in the plainest of garments, eating what might be set before him. He would imitate Christ and obey Christ's commands, in absolute poverty, in Christ-Hke love, and in humbled deference to the priests as His representatives. "The Most High Himself revealed to me tliat I ought to live according to the model of the holy Gospel." Like-minded as- sociates gathered about him. For them he drafted a "Rule," composed of little besides selections from Christ's commands, and with it, accompanied by eleven or twelve companions, he applied to Pope Innocent III for approval. It was practically the same request that Valdez had preferred in vain in 1179. But Innocent was now trying to win some of the Waldenses for the church, and Francis was not refused. The associates now called themselves the Penitents of Assisi, a name for which, by 1216, Francis had substituted that of the Minor, or Humbler, Brethren, by which they were henceforth to be known. Francis's association was a union of imitators of Christ, bound together by love and practising the utmost poverty, since only thus, he believed, could the world be denied and Christ really followed. Two by two, they went about preaching repentance, singing much, aiding the peasants in their work, caring for the lepers and outcasts. " Let those who know no trade learn one, but not for the purpose of receiving the price of their toil, but for their good example and to flee idleness. And when we are not given the price of our work, let us resort to the table of the Lord, begging our bread from door to door." ^ Soon wide- reaching missionary plans were formed, which the rapid growth of the association made possible of attempting. Francis him- self, prevented by illness from reaching the Mohammedans through Spain, went to Egypt in 1219, in the wake of a crusading expedition, and actually preached before the Sultan. Francis himself was little of an organizer. The free associa- tion was increasing enormously. What were adequate rules for a handful of like-minded brethren were soon insufficient for a body numbering several thousands. Change would have come in any event. It was hastened, however, by the organiz- ing talents of Cardinal LTgolino of Ostia, the later Pope Greg- ory IX (1227-1241), who had befriended Francis, and whose appointment Francis secured as "protector" of the society. Under Ugolino's influence, and that of Brother Elias of Cortona, ' Teslauient, THE FRANCISCANS 259 the transformation of the association into a full monastic order went rapidly forward. From the time of Francis's absence in Egypt and Syria in 1219 and 1220, his real leadership ceased. A new rule was adopted in 1221, and a third in 1223. In the latter, emphasis was no longer laid on preaching, and begging was established as the normal, not the exceptional, practice. Already, in 1219, provinces had been established, each in charge of a "minister." Papal directions, in 1220, had prescribed obe- dience to the order's officers, established a novitiate, a fixed costume, and irrevocable vows. Probably most of these changes were inevitable. They were unquestionably a grief to Francis, though whether so deeply as has often been contended is doubtful. He was always deferen- tial to ecclesiastical authority, and seems to have regarded these modifications more with regret than with actual opposi- tion. He withdrew increasingly from the world. He was much in prayer and singing. His love of nature, in which he was far in advance of his age, was never more manifest. Feeble in body, he longed to be present with Christ. He bore what men believed to be the reproduction of Christ's wounds. How they may have been received is an unsolved, and perhaps insoluble, problem. On October 3, 1226, he died in the church of Portiuncula. Two years later he was proclaimed a saint by Pope Gregory IX. Few men in Christian history have more richly deserved the title. In organization, by Francis's death, the Franciscans were like the Dominicans. At the head stood a "minister general" chosen for twelve years. Over each "province" was a "pro- vincial minister," and over each group a "custos," for, unlike the Dominicans, the Franciscans did not at first possess houses. As with the Dominicans, provincial and general chapters were held by which officers were chosen and legislation achieved. Like the Dominicans, also, the Franciscans had almost from the first, their feminine branch — the so-called "second order." That of the Franciscans was instituted by Francis himself, in 1212, through his friend and disciple, Clara Sciffi of Assisi (1194-1253). The growth of the Franciscans was extremely rapid, and though they soon counted many distinguished scholars, they were always more democratic, more the order of the poor, than the Dominicans. The Dominicans and Franciscans, known respectively as 260 THE TERTIARIES Black Friars and Gray Friars in England, soon exercised an almost unbounded popular influence. Unlike the older orders, they labored primarily in the cities. There can be no doubt that their work resulted in a great strengthening of religion among the laity. At the same time they undermined the in- fluence of the bishops and ordinary clergy, since they were privileged to preach and absolve anywhere. They thus strengthened the power of the papacy by diminishing that of the ordinary clergy. One chief influence upon the laity was the development of the "Tertiaries" or "third orders" — a phenomenon which first appeared in connection with the Franciscans, though the tradition which connects it with Francis himself is probably baseless. The "third order" per- mitted men and women, still engaged in ordinary occupations, to live a semi-monastic life of fasting, prayer, worship, and be- nevolence. A conspicuous illustration is St. Elizabeth of Thu- ringia (1207-1231). Ultimately all the mendicant orders de- veloped Tertiaries. As time went on the system tended to become an almost complete monasticism, from which the mar- ried were excluded. It must be regarded as a very successful attempt to meet the religious ideals of an age which regarded the monastic as the true Christian life. The piety of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries found many expressions other than through the Dominicans and Francis- cans. One important manifestation, especially in the Nether- lands, Germany, and France, was through the Beguines — associ- ations of women living in semi-monastic fashion, but not bound by irrevocable vows. They seem to have received their name from those hostile to them in memory of the preacher of Liege, Lambert le Begue, who was regarded as having been a heretic; and the Beguine movement undoubtedly often sheltered anti- churchly sympathizers. It was in the main orthodox, however, and spread widely, existing in the Netherlands to the present. Its loose organization made effective discipline difficult, and, in general, its course was one of deterioration. A parallel, though less popular, system of men's associations was that of the Beghards. The divisions in the Franciscan order, which had appeared in Francis's lifetime between those who would emphasize a simple life of Christ-like poverty and those who valued numbers, power, and influence, were but intensified with his death. The DIVISIONS AMONG THE FRANCISCANS 261 stricter party found a leader in Brother Leo, tlie looser in Elias of Cortona. The papal policy favored the looser, since ecclesi- astical politics would be advanced by the growth and con- solidation of the order along the lines of earlier monasticism. The quarrel became increasingly embittered. The use of gifts and buildings was secured by the laxer party on the claim that they were held not by the order itself but by "friends." Pope Innocent IV (1243-1254), in 1245, allowed such use, with the reservation that it was the property of the Roman Church, not of the order. These tendencies the stricter party vigorously opposed. But that party itself fell into dubious orthodoxy. Joachim of Floris, in extreme southern Italy (1145?-1202), a Cistercian abbot who had been reputed a prophet, had divided the history of the world into three ages, those of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. That of the Spirit was to come in full power in 1260. It was to be an age of men who understood "the eternal Gospel" — not a new Gospel, but the old, spiritu- ally interpreted. Its form of life was to be monastic. In the sixth decade of the thirteenth century many of the stricter Franciscans adopted these views and were persecuted not merely by the laxer element, but by the moderates, who ob- tained leadership when Bonaventura was chosen general min- ister in 1257. These stricter friars of prophetic faith were nicknamed "Spirituals." Under Pope John XXII (1316-1334) some of the party were burned by the inquisition in 1318. During his papacy a further quarrel arose as to whether the poverty of Christ and the Apostles was complete. John XXII decided in 1322 in favor of the laxer view, and imprisoned the great English schoolman, William of Occam, and other asserters of Christ's absolute poverty. The quarrel was irreconcilable, and finally Pope Leo X (1513-1521) formally recognized the division of the Franciscans in 1517 into "Observant," or strict, and "Conventual," or loose sections, each with its distinct officers and general chapters. SECTION V. EARLY SCHOLASTICISM The educational work of cathedral and monastic schools has already been noted in connection with Bede, Alcuin, and Hra- banus Maurus (ante, pp. 200, 207, 210). It was long simply imitative and reproductive of the teaching of the Church Fsl- 262 THE BEGINNINGS OF SCHOLASTICISIM thers, especially of Augustine and Gregory the Great. Save in the case of John Scotus Erigena (ante, p. 210), it showed httle that was original. Schools, however, increased, especially in France in the eleventh centur}-, and with their multiplication came an application of the methods of logic, or of dialectics, to the discussion of theological problems which resulted in fresh and fertile intellectual development. Since it originated in the schools, the movement was known as "Scholasticism." Most of the knowledge of dialectic method was at first de- rived from scanty translations of portions of Aristotle's writ- ings and of Porphyry's Isagoge, both the work of Boetius (480?-524). The development of Scholasticism was inaugurated and ac- companied by a discussion as to the nature of "universals" — that is as to the existence of genera and species — a debate occasioned by Porphyry's Isagoge. Three positions might be taken. The extreme "realists," following Platonic influences {ante, p. 3), asserted that universals existed apart from and antecedent to the individual objects — ante rem, i. e., the genus man was anterior to and determinative of the individual man. The moderate "realists," under the guidance of Aristotle {ante, p. 4), taught that universals existed only in connection with individual objects — in re. The "nominalists," following Stoic precedent, held that universals were only abstract names for the resemblances of individuals, and had no other existence than in thought — 'post rem. The only real existence for them was the individual object. This quarrel between "realism" and "nominalism" continued throughout the scholastic period and profoundly influenced its theological conclusions. The first considerable scholastic controversy was a renewal of the dispute once held between Paschasius Radbertus and Ratramnus as to the nature of Christ's presence in the Lord's Supper {ante, p. 211). Berengar (?-1088), head of the cathe- dral school in Tours about 1049, attacked the prevalent con- ception that the elements are changed as to substance into the actual body and blood of Christ. Ilis position was essentially nominalist. Berengar was immediately opposed by Lanfranc (?-1089), then prior of the monastery of Bee in Normandy, and to be William the Conqueror's celebrated archbishop of Canterbury. Berengar was condemned at the Roman synod of 1050. He conformed and was restored in 1059. About ten ANSELM 2G3 years later he reasserted his opinions, but once more withdrew them in 1079, only to declare them again. The discussion showed that the view soon to be known as "transubstanti- ation" had become the dominant opinion in Latin Christen- dom. It was to have full approval at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, where it was given the highest dogmatic standing. Berengar's dialectic methods were employed, with very dissimilar results, by Anselm, who has often been called the Father of the Schoolmen. Born in Aosta in northern Italy about 1033, Anselm became a monk under Lanfranc in Bee, whom he succeeded as prior. Under him the school of Bee attained great distinction. In 1093 he became archbishop of Canterbury — having a stormy episcopate by reason of his Hildebrandian principles. He died in office in 1109. As a theologian, Anselm was an extreme realist, and was more- over convinced of the full capacity of a proper dialectic to prove the truths of theology. His famous ontological demon- stration of the existence of God is at once realistic and Neo- Platonic. As set forth in his Proslogion, God is the greatest of all beings. He must exist in reality as well as in thought, for if He existed in thought only, a yet greater being, existing in reality as well as in thought, could be conceived; which is impossible. This proof, which aroused the opposition of Gaunilo, a monk of Marmoutiers, in Anselm's lifetime, seems to most a play on words, though its permanent validity has not lacked defenders. Anselm next directed his attention to Roscelin, a canon of Compiegne, who, under nominalistic influence, had asserted that either the Father, Son, and Spirit are identical or are three Gods. At a synod held in Soissons in 1092 Roscelin was com- pelled to abjure tritheism. Anselm now declared that nomi- nalism was essentially heretical, and that view was the preva- lent one for the next two centuries. Anselm's most influential contribution to theology was his discussion of the atonement in his Cur Deus-homo, the ablest treatment that had yet appeared. Anselm totally rejected any thought, such as the early church had entertained, of a ransom paid to the devil. Man, by sin, has done dishonor to God. His debt is to God alone, Anselm's view is feudal. God's nature demands satisfaction. Man, who owes obedi- 2G4 ANSELM AND ABELARD ence at all times, has nothing wherewith to make good past disobedience. Yet, if satisfaction is to be made at all, it can be rendered only by one who shares human nature, who is Himself man, and yet as God has something of infinite value to offer. Such a being is the God-man. Not only is His sacri- fice a satisfaction, it deserves a reward. That reward is the eternal blessedness of His brethren. Anselm's widely influen- tial theory rests ultimately on the realistic conviction that there is such an objective existence as humanity which Christ could assume. Anselm was of devout spirit, fully convinced that dialectic explanation could but buttress the doctrines of the church. "I believe, that I may understand," is a motto that expresses his attitude. The same high realist position was maintained by William of Champeaux (1070 ?-1121), who brought the school of St. Victor, near Paris, into great repute, and died as bishop of Chalons. The ablest use of the dialectic method in the twelfth century was made by Abelard (1079-1142), a man of irritating method, vanity, and critical spirit, but by no means of irreligion. Born in Pallet, in Brittany, he studied under Roscelin and William of Champeaux, both of whom he opposed and undoubtedly far surpassed in ability. On the vexed question of the universals he took a position intermediate between the nominalism of one teacher and the realism of the other, though leaning rather to the nominalist side. Only individuals exist, but genera and species are more than names. Hence he is usually called a "conceptualist," though he gave universals greater value than mere mental conceptions. Abelard's life was stormy. By the age of twenty-two he was teaching with great following in Melun, near Paris. By 1115 he was a canon of Notre Dame, with a following in Paris such as no lecturer had yet enjoyed. He fell in love with Heloise — the niece of his fellow canon, Fulbert — a woman of singular devotion of nature. With her he entered into a secret marriage. The enraged uncle, believing his niece deceived, revenged himself by having Abelard emasculated, and thus barred from clerical advancement. Abelard now became a monk. To teach was his breath of life, however, and he soon resumed lecturing. A reply to Roscelin's tritheism leaned so far in the other direction that his enemies charged him with ABELARD 265 Sabelllanism, and his views were condemned at a synod in Soissons in 1121. His criticisms of the traditional career of St. Denis made the monastery of St. Denis an uncomfortable place of abode, and he now sought a hermit's life. Students gathered about him and founded a little settlement which he called the Paraclete. His criticisms had aroused, however, the hostility of that most powerful religious leader of the age, the orthodox traditionalist Bernard, and he now sought refuge as abbot of the rough monastery in Rhuys, in remote Brittany. Yet he left this retreat to lecture for a while in Paris, and en- gaged in a correspondence with Heloise, who had become the head of a little nunnery at the Paraclete, which is the most in- teresting record of affection — especially on the part of Heloise — which the Middle Ages has preserved. Bernard procured his condemnation at the synod of Sens in 1141, and the rejec- tion of his appeal by Pope Innocent H. Abelard was now a broken man. He made submission and found a friend in Peter, the abbot of Cluny. In 1142 he died in one of the monasteries under Cluny jurisdiction. Abelard's spirit was essentially critical. Without rejecting the Fathers or the creeds, he held that all should be subjected to philosophical examination, and not lightly believed. His work. Sic et non — Yes and No — setting against each other contrary passages from the Fathers on the great doctrines, without attempt at harmony or explanation, might well arouse a feeling that he was a sower of doubts. His doctrine of the Trinity was almost Sabellian. His teaching that man has in- herited not guilt but punishment from Adam was contrary to the Augustinian tradition. His ethical theory that good and evil inhere in the intention rather than in the act, disagreed with current feeling. His belief that the philosophers of an- tiquity were sharers of divine revelation, however consonant with ancient Christian opinion, was not that of his age. Nor was Abelard less individual, though decidedly modern, in his conception of the atonement. Like Anselm, he rejected all ransom to the devil; but he repudiated Anselm's doctrine of satisfaction no less energetically. In Abelard's view the in- carnation and death of Christ are the highest expression of God's love to men, the effect of which is to awaken love in us. Abelard, though open to much criticism from the standpoint of his age, was a profoundly stimulating spirit. His direct fol- 266 HUGO AND PETER LO:\IBARD lowers were few, but his indirect influence was great, and the impulse given by him to the dialectic method of theological inquiry far-reaching. A combination of a moderate use of the dialectic method with intense Neo-Platonic mysticism is to be seen in the work of Hugo of St. Victor (1097?-1141). A German by birth, his life ^^as uneventful. About 1115 he entered the monastery of St. Victor, near Paris, where he rose to be head of its school. A quiet, modest man, of profound learning and piety, his influence was remarkable. He enjoyed the intimate friendship of Ber- nard. Probably his most significant works were his commen- tary on the Celestial Hierarchy of Pseudo-Dionysius the Are- opagite (ante, p. 171) and his treatise On the Mysteries of the Faith. In true mystic fashion he pictured spiritual progress as in three stages — cogitation, the formation of sense-concepts; meditation, their intellectual investigation; contemplation, the intuitive penetration into their inner meaning. This last at- tainment is the true mystical vision of God, and the compre- hension of all things in Him. No original genius, like Abelard and Hugo, but a man of great intellectual service to his own age, and held in honor till the Reformation, was Peter Lombard, "the Master of the Sentences" (?-1160?). Born in humble circumstances in northern Italy, Peter studied in Bologna and Paris, in part at least aided by the generosity of Bernard. In Paris he became ultimately teacher of theology in the school of Notre Dame, and near the close of his life, in 1159, bishop of the Parisian see. Whether he was ever a pupil of Abelard is uncertain; but he was evidently greatly influenced by Abelard's works. Under Hugo of St. Victor he certainly studied, and owed that teacher much. Between 1147 and 1150 he wrote the work on which his fame rests — the Four Books of Sentences. After the well-accustomed fashion, he gathered citations from the creeds and the Fathers on the several Christian doctrines. What was fresh was that he proceeded to explain and interpret them by the dialectic method, with great moderation and good sense, and with constant reference to the opinions of his contempo- raries. He showed the influence of Abelard constantly, though critical of that thinker's extremer positions. He was even more indebted to Hugo of St. Victor. Under the four divisions, God, Created Beings, Salvation, Sacraments and the Last Things, RISE OF THE UNIVERSITIES 267 he discussed the whole round of theology. The result was a handbook which so fully met the needs of the age that it remained till the Reformation the main basis of theological instruction. With the middle of the twelfth century the first period of Scholasticism was over. The schools continued in increasing activity, but no creative geniuses appeared. The last half of the century was distinguished, however, by the introduction to the West, which had thus far had little of Aristotle, of the greater part of his works and of much Greek philosophy besides, by the Jews of Spain and southern France, who, in turn, derived them from the Arabs. The Latin conquest of Constantinople, in 1204 (ante, p. 243), led ultimately to direct translations from the originals. The result was to be a new and greater out- burst of scholastic activity in the thirteenth century. SECTION VI. THE UNIVERSITIES Cathedral and monastic schools were never more flourishing than in the twelfth century. Teachers were multiplying and gathering about them students. Anselm, Abelard, William of Champeaux, Hugo of St. Victor, and Peter Lombard were sim- ply the most eminent of a host. Students flocked to them in large numbers from all parts of Europe. Paris and Oxford were famed for theology, Bologna for church and civil law, Salerno for medicine. Under these circumstances the univer- sities developed in a manner which it is difficult exactly to date. The change which they implied was not the establishment of teaching where none had been before, but the association of students and teachers into a collective body, after the fashion of a trade guild, primarily for protection and good order, but also for more efficient management and the regulation of ad- mission to the teaching profession. In its educational capacity such a group was often called a studium generate. The begin- nings of university organization — which must be distinguished from the commencement of teaching — may be placed about the year 1200. By the close of the twelfth century there were in Bologna two "universities," or mutual protective associations of stu- dents. The organization in Paris became normal, however, for northern Europe. Its earliest rules date from about 1208, 268 THE UNIVERSITIES and its recognition as a legal corporation from a letter of Pope Innocent III of about 1211. In Paris there was a single "uni- versity," originally formed by the union of the cathedral school and the more private schools of the city, and divided for in- struction into four faculties — one preparatory, that of the "arts," in which the trivium (grammar, rhetoric, and logic) and the quadrimuni (astronomy, arithmetic, geometry, and music) were taught; and the three higher faculties of theology, canon law, and medicine. Over each faculty a dean presided. Besides this educational organization students and professors were also grouped, for mutual aid, in "nations," each headed by a proctor. These varied in number in the several institu- tions. In Paris they were four — the French, the Picards, the Normans, and the English. Teaching was principally by lecture and by constant debate, a method which, whatever its shortcomings, rendered the stu- dent ready master of his knowledge, and brought talent to light. The first degree, that of bachelor, was similar to an admission to apprenticeship in a guild. The second degree, that of master or doctor, resembling the master workman in a guild, carried with it full authority to teach in the institution where it was conferred, and soon, for the graduates of the larger universities, to teach anywhere. The use of Latin as the sole language of the classroom made possible the assembly of students from all parts of Europe, and they flocked to the more famous universities in immense numbers. The needs of these students, many of whom were of extreme poverty, early aroused the interest of benefactors. One of the most influential and oldest foundations thus established was that formed in Paris by Robert de Sorbon (1201-1274) in 1252. It provided a home and special teaching for poor stu- dents, under the guidance of "fellows" of the house. Such establishments, soon known as "colleges," rapidly multiplied, and gave shelter to the great majority of students, rich and poor. The system still survives in the English universities. So prominently was the Sorbonne identified with theological instruction that its name came to be poj)uIarIy, though errone- ously, attached to the faculty of theology in Paris. That uni- versity ranked till the Reformation as the leader of Europe, especially in the theological studies. Universities, many of which were short-lived, sprang up THE GREAT SCHOOLMEN 269 with great rapidity. In general, they were regarded as eccle- siastical — authorization by the Pope being almost essential. The most conspicuous early lay approval was that of Naples, in 1225, by the Emperor Frederick H. SECTION VII. HIGH SCHOLASTICISM AND ITS THEOLOGY The recovery of the whole of Aristotle, the rise of the uni- versities, and the devotion of the mendicant orders to learning, ushered in a new period of Scholasticism in the thirteenth cen- tury, and marked the highest intellectual achievement of the Middle Ages. The movement toward this "modern theology," as it was called, was not without much opposition, especially from traditionalists and adherents to the Augustinian Neo- Platonic development. Aristotle met much hostility. A series of great thinkers, all from the mendicant orders, made his victory secure. Yet even they, while relying primarily on Aristotle, made much use of Plato as reflected in Augustine and the Pseudo-Dionysius (arite, pp. 171, 266). To Alexander of Hales (?-1245), an Englishman and ulti- mately a Franciscan, who taught in Paris, was due the treat- ment of theology in the light of the whole of Aristotle. Yet to him the Scripture is the only final truth. With this new period of Scholasticism a broader range of intellectual interest is apparent than in the earlier, though the old problem between realism and nominalism continued its pre-eminence. Alex- ander was a moderate realist. Universals exist ante rem in the mind of God, in re in the things themselves, and post rem in our understanding. In this he was followed by Albertus Magnus and Aquinas. Albertus Magnus (1206?-1280), a German and a Dominican, studied in Padua, and taught in many places in Germany, but principally in Cologne. He served as provincial prior for his order, and was, for a few years, bishop of Regensburg. The most learned man of his age, his knowledge of science was really remarkable. His acquaintance not merely with Aristotle, but with the comments of Arabian scholars, was profounder than that of Alexander of Hales. He was, however, a great com- piler and commentator rather than an original theological genius. That which he taught was brought to far clearer ex- pression by his pupil, Thomas Aquinas. 270 THOMAS AQUINAS Thomas Aquinas (1225?-1274) was a son of Landulf, count of Aquino, a small town about half-way between Rome and Naples. Connected with the German imperial house of Hohen- staufen and with that of Tancred, the Norman Crusader, it was against the wishes of his parents that Thomas entered the Dommican order in 1243. His spiritual superiors were aware of his promise, and sent him to Cologne to study under Albertus Magnus, who soon took his pupil to Paris. On receiving the degree of bachelor of divinity, Thomas returned to Cologne in 1248, and now taught as subordinate to Albertus Magnus. These were years of rapid intellectual growth. Entrance into the Paris faculty was long refused him on account of jealousy of the mendicant orders, but in 1257 he was given full standing there. From 1261 for some years he taught in Italy, then once more in Paris, and finally, from 1272, in Naples. He died, on his way to the Council of Lyons, in 1274. In these crowded years of teaching Thomas was constantly consulted on im- portant civil and ecclesiastical questions, and was active in preachmg ; yet his pen was busy with results as voluminous as they were important. His great Summa Theologies was begun about 12G5, and not fully completed at his death. Personally he was a simple, deeply religious, prayerful man. Intellectually his work was marked by a clarity, a logical consistency, and a breadth of presentation that places him among the few great teachers of the church. In the Roman communion his influence has never ceased. By declaration of Pope Leo XIII (1878- 1903), in 1879, his work is the basis of present theological instruction. Closely associated with Aquinas in friendship and for a time in teachmg activities in the University of Paris, was John Fi- danza (1221-1274), generally known as Bonaventura. Born in Bagnorea, in the States of the Church, he entered the Franciscan order in 1238, rising to become its "general" in 1257. A year before his death he was made a cardinal. Famed as a teacher in Paris, he was even more distinguished for his administration of the Franciscan order and for his high character. Much less an Aristotelian than Aquinas, he was especially influenced by the Neo-Platonic teachings of Augustine and Pseudo-Dionysius^ He was essentially a mystic. By meditation and prayer one may rise into that union with God which brhigs the highest knowledge of divine truth. Yet, though a mystic, Bonaven- AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY 271 tura was a theologian of dialectic ability whose work, more conservative and less original than that of Aquinas, neverthe- less commanded high respect. According to Aquinas, in whom Scholasticism attained its noblest development, the aim of all theological investigation is to give knowledge of God and of man's origin and destiny. Such knowledge comes in part by reason — natural theology — but the attainments of reason are inadequate. They must be augmented by revelation. That revelation is contained in the Scriptures, which are the only final authority ; but they are to be understood in the light of the interpretations of the councils and the Fathers — in a word, as comprehended by the church. The truths of revelation cannot be attained by reason, but they are not contrary to reason, and reason can show the inade- quacy of objections to them. Aquinas is thus far from sharing Anselm's conviction that all truths of Christianity are philo- sophically demonstrable ; but he holds that there can be no contradiction between philosophy and theology, since both are from God. In treating of God Aquinas combined Aristotelian and Neo- Platonic conceptions. He is the first cause. He is pure ac- tivity. He is also the most real and perfect of existences. He is the absolute substance, the source and end of all things. As perfect goodness, God does always that which He sees to be right. Regarding the Trinity and the person of Christ, Aquinas stood essentially on the basis of Augustine and the Chalcedonian formula {ante, p. 151). God needs nothing, and therefore the creation of the world was an expression of the divine love which He bestows on the existences He thus called into being. God's providence ex- tends to all events, and is manifested in the predestination of some to everlasting life, and in leaving others to the conse- quences of sin in eternal condemnation. Aquinas's position is largely determinist. Man has, indeed, in a certain sense, free- dom. His will acts ; but that dees not preclude the determin- ing or permissive providence of God. The divine permission of evil results in the higher good of the whole. Though sin is no less sinful, its existence permits the development of many virtues which go to make strength of character in those who resist. Aquinas abandoned the ancient distinction between "soul" 272 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY and "spirit." The soul of man is a unit, possessing intellect and will. It is immaterial. Man's highest good is the vision and enjoyment of God. As originally created man had, in addition to his natural powers, a superadded gift which en- abled him to seek that highest good and practise the three Christian virtues— faith, hope, and love. This Adam lost by sin, which also corrupted his natural powers, so that his state became not merely a lack of original righteousness, but a posi- tive turning toward lower aims. Sin is, therefore, more than merely negative. In this fallen state it was impossible for Adam to please God, and this corruption was transmitted to all his posterity. INIan still has the power to attain the four natural virtues, prudence, justice, courage, and self-control ; but these, though bringing a certain measure of temporal honor and happiness, are not sufficient to enable their possessor to attain the vision of God. Man's restoration is possible only through the free and un- merited grace of God, by which man's nature is changed, his sins forgiven, and power to practise the three Christian virtues infused. No act of his can win this grace. While God could conceivably have forgiven man's sins and granted grace without the sacrifice of Christ — here Aquinas differed from Anselm — the work of Christ was the wisest and most efficient method God could choose, and man's whole redemption is based on it. That work involved satisfaction for man's sin, and Christ won a merit which deserves a reward. It also moves men to love. Aquinas thus developed and combined views presented by Anselm and Abelard. Christ's satisfaction superabounds man's sin, and the reward which Christ cannot personally re- ceive, since as God He needs nothing, comes to the advantage of His human brethren. Christ does for men what they can- not do for themselves. Once redeemed, however, the good works that God's grace now enables man to do deserve and receive a reward. Man now has power to fulfil not only the precepts but the counsels of the Gospel (ante, p. 10.3). He can do works of supereroga- tion, of which the chief would be the faithful fulfilment of the monastic life. He can not merely fit himself for heaven ; he can add his mite to the treasury of the superabundant merits of Christ and the saints. Yet all this is made possible only by the grace of God. Aquinas thus finds full room for the AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY 273 two dominating conceptions of mediaeval piety — grace and merit. Grace does not come to men indiscriminately. It has its definite channels and these are the sacraments, and the sacra- ments alone. Here Scholasticism attained far greater clearness of definition than had previously existed. The ancient feeHng that all sacred actions were sacraments was still alive in the twelfth century, but Hugo of St. Victor and Abelard clearly placed five in a more conspicuously sacramental category than others, and Peter Lombard defined the sacraments as seven. Whether this reckoning was original with him is still an unsolved problem ; nor was it at once universally accepted. The influence of his Sentences ultimately won the day. As enumerated by Peter Lombard, the sacraments are baptism, confirmation, the Lord's Supper, penance, extreme unction, ordination, and matrimony. All were instituted by Christ, directly or through the Apostles, and all convey grace from Christ the head to the members of His mystical body, the church. Without them there is no true union with Christ. Every sacrament consists of two elements which are defined in Aristotelian terms of form and matter {ante, p. 4) — a material portion (water, bread, and wine, etc.) ; and a formula conveying its sacred use ("I baptize thee," etc.). The administrant must have the intention of doing what Christ and the church ap- pointed, and the recipient must have, at least in the case of those of years of discretion, a sincere desire to receive the benefit of the sacrament. These conditions fulfilled, the sacra- ment conveys grace by the fact of its reception — that is ex opere operato. Of this grace God is the principal cause; the sacrament itself is the instrumental cause. It is the means by which the virtue of Christ's passion is conveyed to His members. By baptism the recipient is regenerated, and original and previous personal sins are pardoned, though the tendency to sin is not obliterated. Man is now given the grace, if he will use it, to resist sin, and the lost power to attain the Christian virtues. Infant baptism had become the universal practice, but in the time of Aquinas immersion was still the more preva- lent form, and had his approval. The sole recognized theory regarding Christ's presence in the Supper was that which had been taught by Paschasius Radbertus {ante, p. 211) and Lanfranc {ante, p. 262), and had 274 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY been known since the first half of the twelfth century as transub- stantiation. It had been given full dogmatic authority by the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215. Aquinas but added clear- ness of definition. At the words of consecration by the priest the miracle is wrought by the power of God, so that while the "accidents" (shape, taste, and the like) remain unaltered, the "substance" is transformed into the very body and blood of Christ. Aquinas also accepted and developed the view that the whole body and blood of Christ is present in either element. It was far from original with him, but had grown with the increasing custom of the laity to partake of the bread only. A withdrawal of the cup instigated by the clergy did not take place. The abandonment of the cup was rather a layman's practice due to fear of dishonoring the sacrament by misuse of the wane. Such anxiety had manifested itself as early as the seventh century in the adoption of the Greek custom of dipping the bread in the wine — a practice repeatedly disapproved by ecclesiastical authority, but supported by lay sentiment. By the twelfth century the laity were avoiding the use of the wine altogether, apparently first of all in England. By the time of Aquinas lay communion in the bread alone had become prevalent. Similar considerations led to the general abandonment by the Western Church, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries of the practice of infant communion, which had been universal, and which continues in the Greek Church to the present. Mediseval piety and worship reach their highest point in the Lord's Supper. It is the continuation of the incarnation, the repetition of the passion, the source of spiritual upbuilding to the recipient, the evidence of his union with Christ, and a sac- rifice well pleasing to God, inclining Him to be gracious to those in need on earth and in purgatory. Penance, though not reckoned a sacrament of equal dignity with baptism or the Lord's Supper, was really of great, if not prime, importance in mediaeval practice. Mediaeval thought regarding the personal religious life centred about the two conceptions of grace and merit. Baptism effected the forgive- ness of previous sins ; but for those after baptism penance was necessary. The Latin mind has always been inclined to view sin and righteousness in terms of definite acts rather than as states, and therefore to look upon man's relations to God under AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY 27.-> the aspects of debt and credit — though holding that tlie only basis of credit is the effect of God's grace. These tenden(,'ics were never more marked than in the scholastic period. They represented wide-spread popular views which the schoolmen explained theologically, rather than originated. According to Aquinas, penance involves four elements, con- trition, confession, satisfaction, and absolution. Contrition is sincere sorrow for the offense against God and a determination not to repeat it. Yet Aquinas holds that, as all sacraments convey grace, a penance begun m "attrition," that is, in fear of punishment, may by infused grace become a real contrition. Private confession to the priest had made gradual progress since its advocacy by the old British missionaries (ante, p. 197). Abelard and Peter Lombard were of opinion that a true con- trition was followed by divine forgiveness, even without priestly confession, though they thought such confession desirable. The Fourth Lateran Council, in 1215, required confession to the priest at least once a year of all laymen of age of discretion. Such confession thereby became church law. Alexander of Hales argued its necessity, and Aquinas gave it more logical exposition. It must be made to the priest as the physician of the soul, and include all " deadly " sins — the catalogue of which was now much larger than in the early church (aiite, p. 100), Though God forgives the eternal punishment of the penitent, certain temporal penalties remain as a consequence of sin. This distinction was clearly made by Abelard and became the current property of the schoolmen. These temporal penalties satisfy the sinner's offense against God so far as it is in his power to do so. They also enable him to avoid sin in the future. They are the "fruits of repentance." It is the business of the priest to impose these satisfactions, which, if not adequate in this life, will be completed in purgatory. On evidence thus of sorrow for sin, confession, and a willing- ness to give satisfaction, the priest, as God's minister or agent, pronounces absolution. Here, then, was the great control of the priesthood over the laity till the Reformation, and in the Roman Church to the present. Without priestly pardon no one guilty after baptism of a "deadly" sin has assurance of salvation. A great modification of these satisfactions was, however, rapidly growing in the century and a half before Aquinas. A 276 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY remission of a portion or of all of these "temporal" penalties could be obtained. Such remission was called an "indulgence." Bishops had long exercised the right to abridge satisfactions in cases where circumstances indicated unusual contrition. Great services to the church were held to deserve such consideration. Peter Damiani (1007?-1072) regarded gifts of land for a mon- astery or a church as affording such occasions. These did not constitute the full indulgence system, however. That seems to have originated in southern France, and the earliest, though not undisputed, instance is about the year 1016. Their first conspicuous employment was by a French Pope, Urban II (1088-1099), who promised full indulgence to all who engaged in the First Crusade, though Pope Alexander II had given similar privileges on a smaller scale for battle against the Sara- cens in Spain about 1063. Once begun, the system spread with great rapidity. Not only Popes but bishops gave indul- gences, and on constantly easier terms. Pilgrimages to sacred places or at special times, contributions to a good work, such as building a church or even a bridge or a road, were deemed de- serving of such reward. The financial possibilities of the sys- tem were soon perceived and exploited. Since "temporal" penalties included those of purgatory, the value of an indulgence was enormous, though undefined, and the tendency to substi- tute it for a real penance was one to which human nature readily responded. Such was the practice to which Aquinas now gave the classic interpretation. Following Alexander of Hales, he taught that the superabundant merits of Christ and of the saints form a treasury of good works from which a portion may be transferred by the authority of the church, acting through its officers, to the needy sinner. It can, indeed, avail only for those who are really contrite, but for such it removes, in whole or in part, the "temporal" penalties here and in purgatory'. Indulgences were never a license to commit sin. They were an amelioration of penalties justly due to sins already committed and regretted. But, however interpreted, there can be no doubt as to the moral harmfulness of the system, or that it grew worse till the Reformation, of which it was an immediately inducing cause. At their deaths, according to Aquinas, the wicked pass im- mediately to hell, which is endless, and from which there is no release. Those who have made full use of the grace offered in DUNS SCOTUS 277 the church go at once to heaven. The mass of Christians who have but imperfectly availed themselves of the means of grace must undergo a longer or shorter purification in purga- tory. The church is one, whether in heaven, on earth, or in pur- gatory. When one member suffers, all sufVer; when one does well, all share in his good work. On this unity of the church Aquinas bases prayers to the saints and for those in purgatory. The visible church requires a visible head. To be subject to the Roman PontiflF is necessary for salvation. To the Pope, also, belongs the right to issue new definitions of faith, and Aquinas implies the doctrine of papal infallibility. It was Aquinas's good fortune that his philosophy and his theology alike found a hearty disciple in the greatest of medi- aeval poets, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321), whose Divina Covi- media moves, in these respects, almost wholly in Aquinas's realm of thought. Aquinas was a Dominican, and their natural rivalry soon drew upon his system the criticism of Franciscan scholars, many of whom were of English birth. Such a critic was Richard of Middletown (?-1300?); but the most famous of all, and one of the greatest of the schoolmen, was John Duns Scotus (1265?-1308). In spite of his name he appears to have been an Englishman. Educated in Oxford, where he became its most famous teacher, he removed to Paris in 1304. Four years later the general of the order sent him to Cologne, where he died just as his work there had begun. The keenest critic and the ablest dialectician of all the schoolmen, he attacked the work of Aquinas with the utmost acumen. He attained a position as authoritative teacher in the Franciscan order sim- ilar to that of Aquinas in the Dominican, and the theological rivalries of the Thomists and Scotists continued to rage till the Reformation. Aquinas had held that the essence of God is being. To Scotus, it is arbitrary will. The will in God and man is free. Aquinas held that God did what He saw to be right. To Scotus what God wills is right by the mere fact of willing. Though, like Aquinas, Scotus was a modified realist, he laid emphasis on the individual rather than on the universal. To him the individual is the more perfect form. Since God is absolute will, the sacrifice of Christ has the value 27S DUNS SCOTUS which God puts upon it. Anj' other act would have been suffi- cient for salvation had God seen fit so to regard it. Nor can we say, with Aquinas, that Christ's death was the wisest way of salvation. That would be to limit God's will. All we can affirm is that it was the way chosen by God. Similarly, Scotus minimized the repentance necessary for salvation. Aquinas has demanded contrition or an "attrition" — fear of punish- ment — that by the infusion of grace became contrition. Scotus held that "attrition" is sufficient by divine appointment to secure fitness for pardon. It is followed by forgiveness, and that by the infusion of grace by which a man is enabled to]do certain acts to which God has been pleased to attach merit. The sacraments do not of themselves convey grace, but are the conditions appointed by God upon which, if fulfilled, grace is bestowed. The most fundamental difference between Aquinas and Scotus is one of attitude. To Aquinas there could be no real disagree- ment between theology and philosophy, however inadequate the latter to reach all the truths of the former. To Duns much in theology is philosophically improbable, yet must be accepted on the authority of the church. The breakdown of Scholasticism had begun, for its purpose had been to show the reasonableness of Christian truth. The dispute which roused the loudest controversy between Thomists and Scotists was regarding the "immaculate con- ception" of the Virgin ISIary. Aquinas had taught that she shared in the original sin of the race. Scotus held that she was free from it — a doctrine that was to be declared that of the church by Pope Pius IX (1846-1878) in 1854. Yet more radical in his divorce of philosophy from theology was Scotus's pupil, William of Occam (?-1349?). An English Franciscan of the most earnest type, he studied in Oxford, taught in Paris, defended the complete poverty of Christ and the Apostbs against Pope John XXII (ante, p. 261), 3uflFered imprLwnraent, only to escape in 1328 and find refuge with Lx)uis of Bavaria, then in (juarrel with the Pope. Tor the rest of his hfe he defended the iH gcnt'i'ally were nuich iini)r a convert from Judaism, procured an order from the Emperdr, Maximilian, in 1509, confiscatmg Jewish books as doing dishonor to Chris- tianity. The archbishop of Mainz, to whom the task of in- quiry was intrusted, consulted Reuchlin and Jakob Hoch- straten (1460-1527), the Dominican inquisitor in Cologne. They took opposite sides. Hochstraten supported Pfeffer- 335 336 HUMANISTS AGAINST CONSERVATIVES korn, while Reuclilin defended Jewish literature as with sHght exceptions desirable, urged a fuller knowledge of Hebrew, and the substitution of friendly discussion with the Jews for the confiscation of their books. A storm of controversy was the result. Rcuchlin was accused of heresy and put on trial by Hochstraten. The case was appealed to Rome, and dragged till 1520, when it was decided against Reuchlin. The advo- cates of the new learning, however, looked upon the whole I)roceeding as an ignorant and unwarranted attack on scholar- ship, and rallied to Reuchlin's support. From this humanistic circle came, in 1514 and 1517, one of the most successful satires ever issued — the Letters of Obscure Men. Purporting to be written by opponents of Reuchlin and the new learning, they aroused wide-spread ridicule by their barbarous Latinity, their triviality, and their ignorance, and undoubtedly created the impression that the party opposed to Reuchlin was hostile to learning and progress. Their author- ship is still uncertain, but Crotus Rubeanus (1480?-1539?) of Dornheim and Ulrich von Hutten (1488-1523) certainly had parts in it. Hutten, vain, immoral, and quarrelsome, but brilliantly gifted as a writer of prose and verse, and undoubt- edly patriotic, was to give support of dubious worth to Luther in the early years of the Reformation movement. The effect of the storm raised over Reuchlin was to unite German human- ists, and to draw a line of cleavage between them and the con- servatives, of whom the Dominicans were the most conspicuous. It was while this contest was at its height that a protest against an ecclesiastical abuse, made, in no unusual or spec- tacular fashion, by a monastic professor in a recently founded and relatively inconspicuous German university, on October 31, 1517, found immediate response and launched the most gigantic revolution in the history of the Christian Church. Martin Luther, from whom this protest came, is one of the few men of whom it may be said that the history of the world was profoundly altered by his work. Not a great scholar, an organizer or a politician, he moved men by the power of a profound religious experience, resulting in unshakable trust in God, and in direct, immediate and personal relations to Him, which brought a confident salvation that left no room for the elaborate hierarchical and sacramental structures of the Middle Ages. He spoke to his countrymen as one profoundly of them LUTHER'S EARLY LIFE 337 in aspirations and sympathies, yet above them by \irtue of a vivid and compelUng faith, and a courage, physical and spiritual, of the most heroic mould. Yet so largely was he of his race, in his virtues and limitations, that he is understood with tlifli- culty, to this day, by a Frenchman or an Italian, and even Anglo-Saxons have seldom appreciated that fulness of sym- pathetic admiration with which a German Protestant speaks his name. But whether honored or opposed, none can deny his pre-eminent place in the history of the church. Luther was born on November 10, 1483, in Eisleben, where his father was a peasant miner. His father and mother were of simple, unecclesiastical piety. The father, more energetic and ambitious than most peasants, removed to Mansfeld a few months after Martin's birth, where he won respect and a modest competence, and was fired with ambition to give his son an education fitting to a career in the law. After prepara- tory schooling in Mansfeld, Magdeburg, and Eisenach, Martin Luther entered the University of Erfurt in 1501, where he was known as an earnest, companionable, and music-loving student. The humanistic movement beginning to be felt in Erfurt had little influence upon him. His interest was rather in the later, nominalistic scholastic philosophy, representative of the school of Occam, though he read fairly widely in the Latin classics. Luther felt strongly that deep sense of sinfulness which was the ground note of the religious revival of the age in Germany. His graduation as master of arts in 1505, made it necessary then to begin his special preparation in law. He was pro- foundly moved, however, by the sudden death of a friend and by a narrow escape from lightning, and he therefore broke off his career, and, in deep anxiety for his soul's salvation, en- tered the monastery of Augustinian hermits in Erfurt, in July, 1505. The "German congregation" of Augustinians, recently reformed by Andreas Proles (1429-1503), and now under the supervision of Johann von Staupitz (?-1524), enjoyed deserved popular respect and represented mediaeval monasticism at its best. Thoroughly mediaeval, in general, in its theological posi- tion, it made much of preaching, and included some men who were disposed to mystical piety and sympathetic with the deeper religious apprehensions of Augustine and Bernard. To Staupitz, Luther was to owe much. In the monastic life Luther won speedy recognition. In 1507 he was ordained to 338 LUTHER'S RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT the priesthood. The next year saw him In Wittenberg, at the command of his superiors, preparing for a future professorship in the university which had been there estabhshed by the Saxon Elector, Frederick III, "the Wise" (1486-1525), in 1502. There he graduatetl bachelor of theology m 1509, but was sent back the same year to Erfurt, possibly to study for the degree of sententiarius, or licensed expounder of that great mediaeval text-book of theology, the "Sentences" of Peter Lombard {ante, p. 266). On business of his order he made a memorable journey to Rome, probably in 1510. Back once more in Wittenberg, which was thenceforth to be his home, he became a doctor of theology in 1512 and began at once to lecture on the Bible, treating the Psalms from 1513 to 1515, then Romans till late in 1516, and thereupon Galatians, Hebrews, and Titus. His practical abilities were recognized by his appointment, in 1515, as district vicar in charge of eleven monasteries of his order, and he began, even earlier, the practice of preaching in which, from the first, he displayed remarkable gifts. In his order he bore the repute of a man of singular piety, devotion, and monastic zeal. Yet, in spite of all monastic strenuousness, Luther found no peace of soul. His sense of sinfulness overwhelmed him. Staupitz helped him by pointing out that true penitence began not with fear of a punishing God, but with love to God. But if Luther could say that Staupitz first opened his eyes to the Gospel, the clarifying of his vision was a slow and gradual proc- ess. Till 1509 Luther devoted hunself to the later scholastics, Occam, d'Ailli, and Biel. To them he owed permanently his disposition to emphasize the objective facts of revelation, and his distrust of reason. Augustine, however, was opening new visions to him by the close of 1509, and leading him to a rapidly growing hostility toward the dominance of xAristotle m theology. Augustine's mysticism and emphasis on the salvatory signifi- cance of the human life and death of Christ fascinated him. Anselm and Bernard helped him. By the time that Luther lectured on the Psalms (1513-1515), he had become convinced that salvation is a new relation to God, based not on any work of merit on man's part, but on absolute trust in the divine promises, so that the redeemed man, while not ceasing to be a sinner, yet is freely and fully forgiven, and from the new and joyous relationship to God in Christ, the new life of willing JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH 330 conformity to God's will flows. It was a re-emphasis of a most important side of the Pauline teaching. Yet it was not wholly Pauline. To Paul the Christian is primarily a renewed mf)ral being. To Luther he is first of all a forgiven sinner ; but Luther, like Paul, made salvation in essence a right ])ersonal relation- ship to God. The ground and the pledge of this right relation- ship is the mercy of God displayed in the sufferings of Christ in man's behalf. Christ has borne our sins. We, in turn, have imputed to us His righteousness. The German mystics, especially Tauler, now helped Luther to the conclusion that this transforming trust was not, as he had supposed, a work in which a man had a part, but wholly the gift of God. The work preparatory to his lectures on Romans (1515-151G) but intensified these convictions. He now declared that the com- mon opinion that God would infallibly infuse grace into those who did what was in their power was absurd and Pelagian. The basis of any work-righteousness had been overthrown for Luther. While thus convinced as to the nature and method of sal- vation, Luther's own peace of soul was not yet secured. He needed the further conviction of certainty of his own personal justification. That certainty he had, with Augustine, denied. Yet as he labored on the latter part of his lectures on Romans, and even more clearly in the closing months of 151G, his con- fidence that the God-given nature of faith involved personal assurance became conviction. Thenceforth, in his own per- sonal experience the sum of the Gospel was the forgiveness of sins. It was "good news," filling the soul with peace, joy, and absolute trust in God. It was absolute dependence on the di- vine promises, on God's "word." Luther had not, thus far, consciously worked out a new system of theology. He had had a deep, vital experience. It was an experience, however, in no way to be squared with much of current theories of salvation in which acts, penances, and satisfactions had a prominent part. No theoretic con- siderations made Luther a reformer. He was driven by the force of a profound inward experience to test the beliefs and institutions which he saw about him. The profundity and nobility of Luther's experience cannot be doubted. Yet its applicability as a universal test may be questioned. To him faith was a vital, transforming power, a new and ^'ivif^■ing per- 340 THE NINETY-FIVE THESES sonal relationship. Many men, however, while sincerely de- sirous of servinj? God and their generation, have no such sense of personal forgiveness, no such soul-stirring depth of feeling, no such childlike trust. They desire, with God's aid, to do the best they can. For them "justification by faith alone" is either well-nigh meaningless, or becomes an intellectual assent to religious truth. To enter into the experience of Luther or of Paul is by no means possible for all. By 1516 Luther did not stand alone. In the University of AVittenberg his opposition to Aristotelianism and Scholasticism and his Biblical theology found much sympathy. His col- leagues, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (1480?-1541), who, unlike Luther, had represented the older Scholasticism of Aquinas, and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565), now became his hearty supporters. In 1517 Luther had an opportunity to apply his new con- ception of salvation to a crying abuse. Pope Leo X had de- cided in favor of the claims of Albrecht of Brandenburg to hold at the same time the archbishopric of Mainz, the archbishopric of Magdeburg, and the administration of the bishopric of Hal- berstadt, an argument moving thereto being a large financial payment. To indemnify himself, Albrecht secured as his share half the proceeds in his district of the indulgences that the papacy had been issuing, since 1506, for building that new church of St. Peter which is still one of the ornaments of Rome. A commissioner for this collection was Johann Tetzel (1470- 1519), a Dominican monk of eloquence, who, intent on the largest possible returns, painted the benefits of indulgences in the crassest terms.' To Luther, convinced that only a right personal relation with God would bring salvation, such teaching seemed destructive of real religion. As Tetzel ap- proached — he was not allowed to enter electoral Saxony — Luther preached against the abuse of indulgences and, on October .31, 1517, posted on the door of the castle church, in Witten})erg, which served as the university bulletin board, his e\er memorable Ninety-five Theses.- Viewed in themselves, it may well be wondered why the ' See extraftH in Kidd, Documents Illustrative of the Continental Reforma- tion, pp. 12-2U. ^ KiJd, pp. 21-20; English tr., Wace and Buchheim, Luther's Primary Worka, pp. 6-14. THE CONTROVERSY WIDENS 311 Ninety-five Theses proved the spark which kindled the ex- plosion. They were intended for academic debate. They do not deny the right of the Pope to grant indulgences. Thej' question the extension of indulgences to purgatory, and make evident the abuses of current teaching — abuses which they imply the Pope will repudiate when informed. Yet though they are far from expressing the full round of Luther's thought, certain principles are evident in them which, if developed, would be revolutionary of the churchly practice of the day. Repentance is not an act, but a life-long habit of mind. The true treasury of the church is God's forgiving grace. The Christian seeks rather than avoids divine discipline. "Every Christian who feels true compunction has of right plenary re- mission of pain and guilt, even without letters of pardon." In the restless condition of Germany it was an event of the utmost significance that a respected, if humble, religious leader had spoken boldly against a great abuse, and the Theses ran the length and breadth of the empire. Luther had not anticipated the excitement. Tetzel answered at once/ and stirred Konrad Wimpina (?-1531) to make reply. A more formidable opponent was the able and disputa- tious Johann Maier of Eck (1486-1543), professor of theology in the University of Ingolstadt, who answered with a tract circu- lated in manuscript and entitled Ohelisci. Luther was charged with heresy. He defended his position in a sermon on "In- dulgence and Grace" ;^ he replied to Eck. By the beginning of 1518, complaints against Luther had been lodged in Rome by Archbishop Albrecht of ]\Iainz and the Dominicans. The result was that the general of the Augustinians was ordered to end the dispute and Luther was summoned before the general chapter of the order met in Heidelberg, in April. There Luther argued against free will and the control of Aristotle in theology and won new adherents, of whom one of the most important was IMartin Butzer (Bucer). At about the same time Luther put forth a more elaborate defense of his position on indulgences, the Resolutiones. Luther had desired no quarrel with the papacy. He seems to have believed that the Pope might see the abuses of indul- gences as he did, but the course of events was leading to no choice save the sturdy maintenance of his views or submission. 1 Kidd, pp. 30, 31. * Ihid., p. 29. 342 LUTHER AND CAJETANUS In June, 1518, Pope Leo X issued a citation to Luther to appear in Rome, and commissioned his censor of books, the Domini- can Silvestro ]\Iazzolini of Prierio, to draw up an opinion on Luther's position. The summons and the opinion reached Luther early in August. Prierio asserted that "the Roman Church is representatively the college of cardinals, and more- over is virtually the supreme pontiff," and that "He who says that the Roman Church cannot do what it actually does regard- ing indulgences is a heretic." ^ Luther's case would apparently have speedily ended in his condemnation had he not had the powerful protection of his prince, the Elector Frederick, "the Wise." In how far Frederick sympathized with Luther's relig- ious beliefs at any time is a matter of controversy; but, at all events he was proud of his Wittenberg professor, and averse to an almost certain condemnation in Rome. His political skill effected a change of hearing from the Roman court to the papal legate at the Reichstag in Augsburg, the learned commentator on Aquinas, Cardinal Thomas Vio (1469-1534), known from his birthplace (Gaeta) as Cajetanus. Cajetanus was a theologian of European repute and seems to have thought the matter rather beneath his dignity. He ordered Luther to retract, especially criticisms of the completeness of papal power of in- dulgence. Luther refused,- and, on October 20, fled from Augs- burg, having appealed to the Pope "to be better informed."^ Not satisfied with this, Luther appealed from Wittenberg, in November, 1518, to a future general council.^ How little chance of a favorable hearing he had in Rome is shown by the bull issued the same month by Leo X defining indulgences in the sense which Luther had criticised.^ Luther had no real hope of safety. If his courage was great, his danger was no less so; but he was rescued from immediate condemnation by the favorable turn of political events. Meanwhile the summer of 1518 had seen the installation as professor of Greek in Wittenberg of a young scholar, a native of Bretten and grandnephew of Reuchlin, Philip Melanchthon (1497-1 500), who was to be singularly united with Luther in their after work. Never was there a greater contrast. INIe- lanchthon was timid and retiring; but he was without a superior in scholarship, and under the strong impress of Luther's per- \Kidd, pp. 31, 32. « Ibid., pp. 33-37. » Ibid., pp. 37-39. * Ibid., p. 40. 6 Ibid., p. 39. THE LEIPZIG DEBATE 343 sonality, he devoted his remarkable abilities, ahnost from Iiis arrival in Wittenberg, to the furtherance of the Lutheran cause. The Emperor, Maximihan, was now visibly nearing tlie end of his Hfe, which was to come in January, L519, and the turmoil of a disputed election was impending. Pope Leo X, as an Italian prince, looked with disfavor on the candidacy of Charles of Spain, or Francis of France, as increasing foreign influence in Italy, and sought the good-will of the Elector Fred- erick, whom he would gladly have seen chosen. It was no time to proceed against Frederick's favored professor. Leo, therefore, sent his chamberlain, the Saxon Karl von Miltitz, as his nuncio, with a golden rose, a present expressive of high papal favor, to the Elector. Miltitz flattered himself that he could heal the ecclesiastical quarrel and went far beyond his instruc- tions. On his own motion he disowned Tetzel, and held an interview with Luther, whom he persuaded to agree to keep silent on the questions in dispute, to submit the case, if possible, to learned German bishops, and to write a humble letter to the Pope.^ Any real agreement was impossible. Luther's Wittenberg colleague, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (1480?-L541), had argued in 1518, in opposition to Eck, that the text of the Bible is to be preferred even to the authority of the whole church. Eck demanded a public debate, to which Karlstadt agreed, and Luther soon found himself drawn into the combat, proposing to contend that the supremacy of the Roman Church is unsup- ported by history or Scripture. In June and July, 1519, the great debate was held in Leipzig. Karlstadt, who was an un- ready disputant, succeeded but moderately in holding his own against the nimble-witted Eck. Luther's earnestness acquitted itself much better; but Eck's skill drove Luther to the admis- sion that his positions were in some respects those of Huss, and that in condemning Huss the revered Council of Constance had erred. To Eck this seemed a forensic triumph, and he believed victory to be his, declaring that one who could deny the infallibility of a general council was a heathen and a publi- can.^ It was, indeed, a momentous declaration into which Luther had been led. He had already rejected the final author- ity of the Pope, he now admitted the fallibility of councils. Those steps implied a break with the whole authoritative 1 Kidd, pp. 41-44. ^ IhiJ., pp. 44-51. 344 LUTHER'S GREAT TREATISES . system of the jMiddle Ages, and allowed final appeal only to ^Ithe Scriptures, and to the Scriptures, moreover, interpreted 'by the individual judgment. Eck felt that the whole con- troversy might now be speedily ended by a papal bull of con- demnation, whicli he now set himself to secure and which was issued on June 15, 1520.^ Luther was now, indeed, in the thick of the battle. His own ideas were rapidly crystallizing. Humanistic supporters, like ririch von Hutten, were now rallying to him as one who could lead in a national conflict with Rome. Luther himself was be- ginning to see his task as a national redemption of Germany from a papacy which, rather than the individual Pope, he was coming to regard as antichrist. His doctrine of salvation was bearing larger fruitage. Li his little tract. On Good Works, of May, 1520, after defining "the noblest of all good works" to be "to believe in Christ," he affirmed the essential goodness of the normal trades and occupations of life, and denounced those who " limit good works so narrowly that they must con- sist in praying in church, fasting or giving alms."^ This vin- dication of the natural lunnan life as the best field for the ser- vice of God, rather than the unnatural limitations of asceticism, was to be one of Luther's most important contributions to Protestant thought, as well as one of his most significant de- partures from ancient and mediaeval Christian conceptions, Luther's great accomplishment of the year 1520 and his completion of his title to leadership were the preparation of three epoch-making works. The first of these treatises was published in August, entitled To the Christian Nobility of the Ger- man Nation.^ Written with burning conviction, by a master of tlie German tongue, it soon ran the breadth of the empire. It declared that three Roman walls were overthrown by which the pajjacy had buttressed its power. The pretended superi- orit\' of the spiritual to the temporal estate is baseless, since all l)elievcrs are priests. That truth of universal priesthood casts down the second wall, that of exclusive papal right to interi)ret the Scriptures; and the third wall, also, that a re- formatory c(juncil can be called by none but the Pope. "A true, free council" for the reform of the church should be sum- • Kidd, pp. 74-79. - RoLinson, Readings, 2 : 66-68. ' Translttti'd in full in Ware and liii(;hh»;iin'a, Luther's Friinary Works, pp. 17-92. LUTHER'S GREAT TREATISES 345 moned by the temporal authorities. Luther then proceeded to lay down a programme for reformatory action, his sugges- tions being practical rather than theological. Papal mis- government, appointments, and taxation are to be curbed; burdensome offices abolished ; German ecclesiastical interests should be placed under a "Primate of Germany" ; clerical mar- riage permitted ; the far too numerous holy days reduced in the interest of industry and sobriety; beggary, including that of the mendicant orders, forbidden ; brothels closed ; luxury curbed; and theological education in the universities reformed. No wonder the effect of Luther's work was profound. He had voiced what earnest men had long been thinking. Two months later Luther put forth in Latin his Babylonish Captivity of the Church,^ in which questions of the highest theo- logical import were handled and the teaching of the Roman Church unsparingly attacked. The sole value of a sacrament, Luther taught, is its witness to the divine promise. It seals or attests the God-given pledge of union with Christ and forgive- ness of sins. It strengthens faith. Tried by the Scripture! standard, there are only two sacraments, baptism and the \ Lord's Supper, though penance has a certain sacramental value as a return to baptism. Monastic vows, pilgrimages, works of merit, are a man-made substitute for the forgiveness of sins freely promised to faith in baptism. Luther criticised the denial of the cup to the laity, doubted transubstantiation, for which he would substitute a theory of consubstantiation derived from d'Ailli, and especially rejected the doctrine that the Supper is a sacrifice to God. The other Roman sacraments, confirma- tion, matrimony, orders, and extreme unction, have no sacra- mental standing in Scripture. It is one of the marvels of Luther's stormy career that he was able to compose and issue, contemporaneously with these intensely polemic treatises, and while the papal bull was being published in Germany, his third great tractate of 1520, that On. Christian Liberty.'^ In calm confidence he presented the para- dox of Christian experience: ''A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one." He is free, since justified by faith, no longer under the law of works 1 Luther's Primary Works, pp. 141-245. ^Jbid.„ pp. 95-137. 346 LUTHER BLRNS THP: PAPAL BULL and in new personal relatioiisliip with Christ. He is a servant because bound by love to bring his life into conformity to the will of God and to be helpful to his neighbor. In this tract, in an elsewhere unmatched measure, the power and the limita- tions of Lutheranism are evident. To Luther the essence of the Gospel is the forgiveness of sins, wrought through a faith, which, as with Paul, is nothing less than a vital, personal trans- forming relationship of the soul with Christ. It is unquestion- r ably the highest of Christian experiences. Its limitation, as already pointed out, is that this experience, if regarded as the \ sole type of true religion, is one beyond the practical attain- Lment of many earnest men. To this tract Luther prefaced a letter to Pope Leo X, which is a most curious document, breath- ing good-will to the Pontiff personally, but full of denunciation of the papal court and its claims for the papacy, in which the Pope is represented as "sitting like a lamb in the midst of wolves." Though Lutlier's vision was to clarify hereafter regarding many details, his theological system was thus prac- tically complete in its main outlines by 1520. Meanwhile Eck and Girolamo Aleander (1480-1542) had come with the papal bull, as nuncios, to Germany. In Witten- berg its publication was refused, and its reception in large parts of Germany was lukewarm or hostile, but Aleander secured its publication in the Netherlands, and procured the burning of Luther's books in Louvain, Liege, Antwerp, and Cologne. On December 10, 1520, Luther answered by burning the papal bull and the canon law, with the approving presence of students and citizens of Wittenberg, and without opposition from the civil authorities. It was evident that a considerable section of Germany was in ecclesiastical rebellion, and the situation de- manadcd the cognizance of the highest authorities of the empire. On June 28, 1519, while the Leipzig disputation was in prog- ress, the imperial election had resulted in the choice of Maxi- milian's grandson Charles V (1500-1558). Heir of Spain, the Netherlands, the Austrian territories of the house of Habs- burg, master of a considerable portion of Italy, and of newly discovered territories across the Atlantic, his election as Holy Roman Emperor made him the head of a territory vaster than that of any single ruler since Charlemagne. It was an author- ity greatly limited, however, in Germany by the territorial LUTHER AT WORMS 347 powers of the local princes. As yet Charles was young and unknown, and both sides in the religious struggles of the day had strong hope of his support. In reality he was an earnest Roman Catholic, of the type of his grandmother, Isabella of Castile, sharing her reformatory views, desirous of improve- ment in clerical morals, education, and administration, but wholly unsympathetic with any departure from the doctrinal or hierarchical system of the Middle Ages. He had at last come to Germany, and partly to regulate his government in that land, partly to prepare for the war about to break out over the rival claims of France and Spain in Italy, had called a Reichs- tag to meet in Worms in November, 1520. Though there was much other business, all felt the determination of Luther's case of high importance. The papal nuncio, Aleander, pressed for a prompt condemnation, especially after the final papal bull against Luther was issued on January 2, 152L Since Luther was already condemned by the Pope, the Reichstag had no duty, Aleander urged, but to make that condemnation effective. On the other hand, Luther had wide popular support, and his ruler, the Elector Frederick the Wise, a master of diplomatic in- trigue, was, fortunately for Luther, of the opinion that the con- demned monk had never had an adequate trial. Frederick, and other nobles, believed that he should be heard before the Reichs- tag previous to action by that body. Between the two coun- sels the Emperor wavered, convinced that Luther was a damna- ble heretic, but politician enough not to oppose German senti- ment too sharply, or to throw away the possible advantage of making the heretic's fate a lever in bringing the Pope to the imperial side in the struggle with France. The result was that Luther was summoned to Worms un- der the protection of an imperial safe-conduct. His journey thither from Wittenberg was well-nigh a popular ovation. _ On April 17, 1521, Luther appeared before the Emperor and Reichs- tag. A row of his books was pointed out to him and he was asked whether he would recant them or not. Luther requested time for reflection. A day was given him, and on the next afternoon he was once more before the assembly. Here he acknowledged that, in the heat of controversy, he had expressed himself too strongly against persons, but the substance of what he had written he could not retract, unless convinced of its wrongfulness by Scripture or adequate argument. The 348 LUTHER AT WORMS Emperor, who could hardly believe that such temerity as to deny the infallibility of a general council was possible, cut the discussion short. That Luther cried out, " I cannot do other- wise. Here I stand. God help me, Amen," is not certain, but seems not improbable. The words at least expressed the substance of his unshaken determination. He had borne a great historic witness to the truth of his convictions before the highest tribunal of his nation. Of his dauntless courage he had given the completest proof. The judgment of his hearers was divided, but if he alienated the Emperor and the prelates by his strong and, as it seemed to them, self-willed assertion, he made a favorable impression on many of the German no- bility and, fortunately, on the Elector Frederick. That prince, though he thought Luther too bold, was confirmed in his de- termination that no harm should come to the reformer. Yet the result seemed a defeat for Luther. A month after Luther ]uid started on his homeward journey he was formally put under the ban of the empire, though not till after many of the mem- bers of the Reichstag had left. He was to be seized for pun- ishment and his books burned.' This ban was never formally abrogated, and Luther remained the rest of his life under im- perial condemnation. Had Germany been controlled by a strong central authority Luther's career would soon have ended in martyrdom. Not even an imperial edict, however, could be executed against the will of a vigorous territorial ruler, and Frederick the Wise proved once more Luther's salvation. Unwilling to come out openly as his defender, perhaps somewhat afraid to do so, he had Luther seized by friendly hands, as the reformer journeyed homeward from Worms, and carried secretly to the Wartburg Castle, near Eisenach. For months Luther's hiding-place was practically unknown; but that he lived and shared in the for- tunes of the struggle his ready pen made speedily apparent. His attacks on the Roman practice grew more intense, but the most lasting fruit of this period of enforced retirement was his translation of the New Testament, begun in December, L521, and published in Septemlier of the following year. Luther was by no means the first to translate the Scriptures into Ger- man, but the earlier versions had been made from the Vulgate, and were hard and awkward in expression. Luther's work M\i(l(J, Documents, pp. 79-89. LUTHER TRANSLATES THE NEW TESTAMENT niO was not merely from tlie Greek, for wlilcli the labors of I-^ras- mus gave the basis, it was idiomatic and readable. It largely determined the form of speech that should mark future German literature— that of the Saxon chancery of the time — wrought and polished by a master of popular expression. Few services greater than this translation have ever been rendered to the development of the religious life of a nation. Nor, with all his deference to the Word of God, was Luther without his own canons of criticism. These were the relative clearness with which his interpretation of the work of Christ and the method of salvation by faith is taught. Judged by these standards, he felt that Hebrews, James, Jude, and Revelation were of inferior worth. Even in Scripture itself there were differences in value. The month which saw the beginning of Luther's work as a translator — December, L')21 — witnessed the publication in Wittenberg of a small volume by Melanchthon, the Loci Com- munes, meaning Cardinal Points of Theology. With it the systematic presentation of Lutheran theology may be said to have begun.^ It was to be enlarged, developed, and modified in many later editions. SECTION II. SEPARATIONS AND DIVISIONS Luther's sojourn in the Wartburg left Wittenberg without his powerful leadership; but there were not wanting many there to continue the ecclesiastical revolution. To his earlier asso- ciates in the university, Karlstadt, Melanchthon, and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565), there had been added, in the first half of the year 1521, Johann Bugenliagen (1485-1558) and Justus Jonas (1493-1555). Of these, Karlstadt had unques- tionably greatest natural leadership, but was rash, impulsive, and radical. Luther had as yet made no changes in public worship or in monastic life. Yet it was inevitable that demand for such changes should come. Luther's fiery fellow monk, Gabriel Zwilling (1487 ?-l 558), by October, 1521, was de- nouncing the mass and urging the abandonment of clerical \'Ows. He soon had a large following, especially in the Augustinian monastery of Wittenberg, many of the inmates of which now renounced their profession. With equal zeal Zwilling was soon attacking images. At (Christmas, 1521, Karlstadt celebrated * Extracts in Kidd, Documents, pp. 90-94. 350 RADICALISM. LUTHER'S CONSERVATISM the Lord's Supper in the castle church, without priestly garb, sacrificial offering, elevation of the host, and with the cup offered to the laity. Auricular confession and fasts were aban- doned. Karlstadt taught that all ministers should marry, and, in January, 1522, took to himself a wife. He was soon oppos- ing the use of pictures, organs, and the Gregorian chanting in public worship. Under his leadership the Wittenberg city government broke up the ancient religious fraternities and confiscated their property, decreed that the services should be in German, condemned pictures in the churches, and forbad beggary, ordering that really needy cases be aided from the city treasury. The public commotion was augmented by the arrival, on December 27, 1521, of three radical preachers from Zwickau, chief of whom were Nikolaus Storch and Markus Thoma Stiibner. These men claimed immediate divine in- spiration, opposed infant baptism, and prophesied the speedy end of the world. Melanchthon was somewhat shaken by them at first, though their influence in general has been exag- gerated. They undoubtedly added something to a state of turmoil.^ These rapid changes, followed by a popular attack on images, were highly displeasing to Elector Frederick the Wise, and they drew forth the warning protests of German princes and the im- perial authorities. Though Luther was to further, within the next three or four years, most of the changes which Karlstadt and Zwilling had made, he now felt that his cause was in peril through a dangerous radicalism. The city government ap- pealed to Luther to return. The Elector nominally forbad him, out of political considerations, but on March 6, 1522, Luther was once more in Wittenberg, which thenceforth was to be his home. Eight days of preaching showed his power. The Gospel, he declared, consisted in the knowledge of sin, in forgiveness through Christ, and in love to one's neighbor. The alterations, which had raised the turmoil, had to do with externals. They should be effected only in a spirit of consid- eration of the weak. Luther was master of the situation. Karlstadt lost all influence and had to leave the city. Many of the changes were, for the moment, undone, and the old order of worship largely re-established. Luther thus showed a decidedly conservative attitude. He opposed not merely • Kidd, pp. 94-104. SPREAD OF THE REVOLUTION 351 the Romanists, as heretofore, but those of the revolution who would move, as he believed, too rapidly. The separations in the reform party itself had begun. Yet there can be no doubt as to Luther's wisdom. His action caused many of the German rulers to look upon him with kindliness, as one who, though condemned at Worms, was really a force for order in troublous times, and continued especially that favor of his Elector with- out which his cause would even now have made speedy ship- wreck. Meanwhile the Emperor's hands were tied by the great war with France for the control of Italy, which was to keep him absent from Germany from 1522 to 1530. Effective interfer- ence on his part with the Reformation was impossible. Pope Leo X had closed his splendor-loving reign in December, 1521, and had been succeeded by Charles V's old Netherlandish tutor as Adrian VI — a man of strict mediaeval orthodoxy, but fully conscious of the need of moral and administrative reform in the papal court, whose brief papacy of twenty months was to be a painfully fruitless effort to check the evils for w^hich he believed I^uther's heretical movement to be a divine pun- ishment. Sympathy with Luther was rapidly spreading, not merely throughout Saxony, but in the cities of Germany. To the Reichstag, which met in Nuremberg in November, 1522, Adrian now sent, demanding the enforcement of the edict of Worms against Luther, while admitting that much was amiss in ecclesiastical administration. The Reichstag replied by de- claring the edict impossible of enforcement, and by demand- ing a council for churchly reform, to meet within a year in Germany, while, pending its assembly, only the "true, pure, genuine, holy Gospel" was to be preached. The old complaints against papal misgovernment were renewed by the Reichstag. Though not in form, it was in reality a victory for Luther and his cause. It looked as if the Reformation might gain the sup- port of the whole German nation.^ Under these favorable circumstances Evangelical congrega- tions were rapidly forming in many regions of Germany, as yet without any fixed constitution or order of service. Luther now was convinced that such associations of believers had full power to appoint and depose their pastors. He held, also, however, that the temporal rulers, as in the positions of chief 1 Kidd, pp. 105-121. 352 CHANGES IN PUBLIC WORSHIP power and responsibility in the Christian community, had a prime duty to further the Gospel. The experiences of the immediate future, and the necessities of actual church organ- ization within extensive territories, were to turn Luther from whatever sympathy he now had with this free-churchism to a strict dependence on the state. To meet the demands of the new Evangelical worship, Luther issued, in L523, his Ordering of Worship, in which he emphasized the central place of preach- ing; his Formula of the Mass, in which, though still using Latin, he did away with its sacrificial implications, recommended the cup for lay usage, and urged the employment of popular hymns by the worshippers; and his Taiifbilchlein, in which he presented a baptismal service in German. The abandonment of private masses and masses for the dead, with their attendant fees, raised a serious problem of ministerial support, which Luther proposed to solve by salaries from a common chest maintained by the municipality. Luther held that great freedom was per- missible in details of worship, as long as the "Word of God" was kept central The various reformed congregations, there- fore, soon exhibited considerable variety, and the tendency to the use of German rapidly increased, Luther himself issuing a German Mass in 1526. Confession Luther regarded as exceed- ingly desirable as preparing the undeveloped Christian for the Lord's Supper, but not as obligatory. Judged by the develop- ment of the Reformation elsewhere, Luther's attitude in mat- ters of worship was strongly conservative, his principle being that "what is not contrary to Scripture is for Scripture and Scrijjture for it." lie therefore retained much of Roman usage, such as the use of candles, the crucifix, and the illustrative employment of pictures.^ Thus far the tide had been running strongly in directions favorable to Luther, but with the years L524 and 1525 separa- tions began, the effects of which were to limit the Reformation movement, to make Luther a party rather than a national leader, to divide Germany, and to throw Luther into the arms of the temi)()ral princes. The first of these separations was from the humanists. Their admired leader, Erasmus, had lit- tle sympathy with Luther's doctrine of justification by faith alone. To his thinking reform would come by education, the rejection of superstition and a return to the "sources" of 1 Kidd, 121-133. SEPARATIONS IN THE REFORM FORCES 353 Christian truth. The stormy writings of Luther and the popu- lar tumult were becoming increasingly odious to him. In com- mon with humanists generally, he was alarmed by the great decline in attendance on the German universities, which set in universally with the rise of the religious controversy, and the fading of interest in purely scholarly questions. Though frequently urged, he was long reluctant to attack Luther, how- ever; but at last, in the autumn of 1524, he challenged Luther's denial of free will. To Erasmus Luther replied, a year later, with the stiffest possible assertion of determinism and predes- tination, though Melanchthon was soon to move in the oppo- site direction. The breach between Luther and Erasmus was incurable. Most of the humanists deserted Luther, though among the disciples of Melanchthon a younger school of Lu- theran humanists slowly developed.^ To some in Germany Luther seemed but a half-way reformer. Such a radical was his old associate Karlstadt, who, having lost all standing in Wittenberg, went on to yet more radical views and practices and, securing a large following in Orlamiinde, practically defied Luther and the Saxon government. He denied the value of education, dressed and lived like the peas- antry, destroyed images, and rejected the physical presence of Christ in the Supper. Even more radical was Thomas Miinzer, who asserted immediate revelation and attacked Romanists and Lutherans alike for their dependence on the letter of the Scripture. A man of action, he led in riotous at- tacks on monasteries, and preached battle against the "god- less." These and men like them Luther strongly opposed, naming them Sch warmer, i. e., fanatics; but their presence in- dicated a growing rift in the forces of reform. Yet more serious was a third separation — that caused by tlie peasants' revolt. The state of the German peasantry had long been one of increasing misery and consequent unrest, especially in southwestern Germany, where the example of better conditions in neighboring Switzerland fed the discon- tent. With the peasant revolt Lutheranism had little directly to do. Its strongest manifestations were in regions into which the reform movement had but slightly penetrated. Yet the religious excitement and radical popidar preaching were un- doubtedly contributing, though not primary, causes. Begun 1 Kidd, pp. 171-174. 354 THE PEASANTS' WAR in extreme southwestern Germany in May and June, 1524, the insurrection was exccctlingly formidable by the spring of the following year. In March, 1525, the peasants put forth twelve articles,^ demanding the right of each community to choose and depose its pastor, that the great tithes (on grain) be used for the support of the pastor and other community expenses, and the small tithes abolished, that serfdom be done away, reservations for hunting restricted, the use of the forests al- lowed to the poor, forced labor be regulated and duly paid, just rents fixed, new laws no longer enacted, common lands re- stored to communities from which they had been taken, and payments for inheritance to their masters abolished. To modern thinking these were moderate and reasonable requests. To that age they seemed revolutionary. Other groups of peasants, one of which had Thomas IMiinzer as a leader, were far more radical. Luther at first attempted to mediate, and was disposed to find wrong on both sides ; but as the ill-led rising fell into greater excesses he turned on the peasants with his savage pamphlet. Against the Murderous and Thieving Rabble of the Peasants, demanding that the princes crush them with the sword. The great defeat of Francis I of France, near Pa via by the imperial army on February 24, 1525, had enabled the princes of Germany to master the rising. The peasant insurrection was stamped out in frightful bloodshed. Of the separations, that occasioned by the peasants' war was undoubtedly the most disastrous. Luther felt that his Gospel could not be involved in the social and economic demands of the disorderly peasants. But the cost was great. Popular sympathy for his cause among the lower orders of southern Germany was largely forfeited, his own distrust of the common man was augmented, his feeling that the reform must be the work of the temporal princes greatly strengthened. His oppo- nents, moreover, pointed to these risings as the natural fruitage of rebellion against the ancient church. Meanwhile the mediteval, though in his way reformatory, Adrian VI had died, and had been succeeded in the papacy, in November, 152.3, by Giulio de' Medici as Clement VII (1523- 1534) — a man of respectable character but with little sense of the importance of religious questions, and primarily in policy an Italian worldly prince. To the new Reichstag assembled in • Kidd, pp. 174-179. ROMAN OPPOSITION ORGANIZED 355 Nuremberg In the spring of 1524, Clement sent as his legate the skilful cardinal, Lorenzo Campeggio (1474-1539). With the Reichstag Campeggio could effect little. It promised to enforce the Edict of Worms against Luther "as far as possible," and demanded a "general assembly of the German nation" to meet in Speier, in the following autumn. This gathering the absent Emperor succeeded in frustrating. Campeggio's real success was, however, outside the Reichstag. Through his efforts a league to support the Roman cause was formed in Regensburg, on July 7, 1524, embracing the Emperor's brother, Ferdinand, the dukes of Bavaria, and a number of south German bishops. A fifth of the ecclesiastical revenues was assigned to the lay princes, regulations to secure a more worthy clergy enacted, clerical fees lightened, the number of saints' days to be observed as holidays diminished, and preaching to be in accordance with the Fathers of the ancient church rather than the schoolmen.^ It was the beginning of a real Counter-Reformation; but its effect was to increase the separation of parties in Germany, and to strengthen the line of demarcation on the basis of the pos- sessions of rival territorial princes. The nation was in hope- less division. While Rome was thus strengthened in southern Germany Luther's cause received important accessions. Chief of these was the adhesion, in 1524, of the far-sighted landgrave Philip of Hesse (1518-1567), the ablest politician among the Lutheran princes. At the same time Albert of Prussia, grand master of the Teutonic Knights, George of Brandenburg, Henry of Meck- lenburg, and Albert of Mansfeld were showing a decided in- terest in the Evangelical cause. The important cities, Magde- burg, Nuremberg, Strassburg, Augsburg, Esslingen, Ulm, and others of less moment had also been won by 1524. It was in the dark days of the peasant revolt that Luther's cautious protector, Frederick the Wise, died (May 5, 1525), and was succeeded by his brother John "the Steadfast" (1525- 1532). The change was favorable to Luther, for the new Elector was a declared and active Lutheran. In these months falls, also, Luther's marriage to Katherine von Bora (1499-1552), on June 13, 1525, a union which was to manifest some of the most winsome traits of the reformer's character. The marriage was rather suddenly arranged, and the charge sometimes made »Kidd, pp. 133-151. 356 POLITICS AIDS THE REFORMERS that desire for matrimony had any share in Luther's revolt from Rome is palpahly absurd ; but, thouf]:;h this repudiation of clerical celibacy was undoubtedly favorable in its ultimate results, it was, at the time, an added cause of division, and the union of an ex-monk and a former nun seemed to give point to the bitter jibe of Erasmus that the Reformation, which had appeared a tragedy, was really a comedy, the end of which was a wedding.^ The supi^ression of the peasant revolt had left the princes and the cities the real ruling forces in Germany, and political combinations were now formed for or against the Reformation. Such a league of Catholics was instituted by Duke George of Saxony and other Catholic princes met in Dessau in July, 1525 ; and as a reply Thilip of Ilesse and the new Elector John of Saxony organized a Lutheran league in Torgau. The great imperial victory of Pavia in the previous February had resulted in the captivity of the defeated King of France, Francis I. The war had gone decisively in favor of the Emperor, and its results seemed to be garnered by the Treaty of JMadrid of January, 152G, by Avhich Francis gained his release. Both monarchs pledged themselves to combined efforts to put down heresy.^ The prospects of Lutheranism were indeed dark. From this peril the Lutheran cause owed its rescue primarily to the Pope. Clement VII, always more an Italian prince than a churchman, was thoroughly alarmed at the increase of imperial power in Italy. lie formed an Italian league against the Emperor, which was joined by the French King in May, 152G. Francis I repudiated the Treaty of Madrid, and now the League of Cognac ranged France, the Pope, Florence, and Venice against the Emperor. The results of Pavia seemed lost. The w^ar must be fought over again. The Emperor's hands were too full to interfere in the religious struggles of Germany.^ So it came about that when the new Reichstag met in Speier in the summer of 152G, though the imperial instructions for- bad alterations in religion and ordered the execution of the Edict of Worms, the Lutlierans were able to urge that the situation had changed from that contemplated by the Emperor when his conunands were issued from Spain. The terrifying ad- vance of the T\irks, which was to result in the Hungarian disas- > Kidd, pp. 179, 180. » Ibid., p. 180. »Ibid., p. 182. TERRITORIAL CHURCHES ORGANIZED 357 ter of Mohacz on August 29, 1526, also counselled military unity. The Reichstag, therefore, enacted that, pending a "council or a national assembly," each of the territorial rulers of the empire is "so to live, govern, and carry himself as he hopes and trusts to answer it to God and his imperial majesty." ^ This was doubtless a mere ad interim compromise ; but the Lutheran princes and cities speedily interpreted it as full legal authorization to order their ecclesiastical constitutions as they saw fit. Under its shelter the organization of Lutheran terri- torial churches was now rapidly accomplished. Some steps had been taken toward such territorial organization even be- fore the Reichstag of 1526. Beyond the borders of the empire Albert of Brandenburg (1511-1568), the grand master of the Teutonic Knights in East Prussia, transformed his office into a hereditary dukedom under the overlordship of Poland, in 1525, and vigorously furthered the Lutheranization of the land.^ In electoral Saxony itself, Elector John was planning a more active governmental control of ecclesiastical affairs, and Luther had issued his German Mass and Order of Divine Service, of 1526, before the Reichstag.^ The decree of the Reichstag now greatly strengthened these tendencies. In Hesse, Land- grave Philip caused a synod to be held in Homberg, in October, 1526, where a constitution was adopted largely through the influence of Francis Lambert (1487-1530), a pupil of Luther. In each communit.y the faithful communicants were to con- stitute the governing body by which pastor should be chosen and discipline administered. Representatives from these local bodies, a pastor and a lay brother from each, should constitute an annual synod for all Hesse, of which the landgrave and high nobles should also be members.^ Here was an organization proposed which was consonant, in large measure, with Luther's earlier views. But Luther had changed. He had come to distrust the common man, and on his advice the landgrave rejected the proposals and adopted instead the procedure of electoral Saxony. In Saxony, which became the norm in a general way for the creation of territorial churches, "visitors" were appointed by the Elector to inquire into clerical doctrine and conduct on the basis of articles drawn up by Melanchthon in 1527, and 1 Kidd, pp. 183-185. 2 /5j Ihid., pp. 568-572. < Ihid., pp. 573-575. ^ Ihid., p. 577. 396 CALVIN IN STRASSBURG what from that now estabHshed in Geneva. Bern had long wished it adopted in Geneva, and the opposition now secured a vote that it be used. Calvin and Farel regarded the differ- ences in Bernese and Genevan usage as of sHght importance, but an imposition by civil authority, without consulting the ministers, they viewed as robbing the church of all freedom. Calvin and Farel refused compliance, and on April 23, 1538, were banished.^ Their work in Geneva seemed to have ended in total failure. After a vain attempt at restoration to Geneva by the inter- vention of Swiss Protestant authorities, Farel found a pastorate in Neuchatel, which was thenceforth to be his home; and Cal- vin, at Butzer's invitation, a refuge in Strassburg. The three years there spent were in many ways the happiest in Calvin's life. There he was pastor of a church of French refugees and lecturer on theology. There he was honored by the city and made one of its representatives in Charles V's reunion debates between Protestants and Catholics {ante, p. 376), gaining thereby the friendship of ]\Ielanchthon and other German re- formers. There he married, in 15-iO, the wife who was to be his faithful companion till her death in 1549. There he found time for writing, not merely an enlarged edition of the Insti- tutes, and his Commentary on Romans, the beginning of a series that put him in the front rank of exegetes among the reformers, but his brilliant Reply to Sadolefo, which was justly regarded as the ablest of vindications of Protestantism generally.^ Meanwhile a political revolution occurred in Geneva for which Calvin was in no way responsible. The party there which had secured his banishment made a disastrous treaty with Bern in 1539, which resulted in its overthrow the next year and the condemnation of the negotiators as traitors. The party friendly to Calvin was once more in power, and its leaders sought his return. lie was with difficulty persuaded, but in 1541 was once more in Geneva, practically on his own terms.^ Calvin promptly secured the adoption of his new ecclesias- tical constitution, the Ordonnances, now far more definite than the recommendations accepted in 1537. In spite of his success- ful return, however, he could not have them quite all that he ' Kidd, pp. 577-580. = Ibid., pp. 583-586, » Ibid., pp. 58G-589, CALVIN'S GENEVAN ORGANIZATION 397 wished. The Ordonnances^ declare that Christ has instituted in His church the four offices of pastor, teacher, elder, and deacon, and define the duties of each. Pastors were to meet weekly for public discussion, examination of ministerial can- didates, and exegesis, in what was popularly known as the Congregation. The teacher was to be the head of the Geneva school system, which Calvin regarded as an essential factor in the religious training of the city. To the deacons were assigned the care of the poor and the supervision of the hospital. The elders were the heart of Calvin's system. They were laymen, chosen by the Little Council, two from itself, four from the Sixty, and six from the Two Hundred, and under the presi- dency of one of the syndics. They, together with the minis- ters, made up the Consistoire, meeting every Thursday, and charged with ecclesiastical discipline. To excommunication they could go; beyond that, if the offense demanded, they were to refer the case to the civil authorities. No right seemed to Calvin so vital to the independence of the church as this of excommunication, and for none was he compelled so to struggle till its final establishment in 1555.^ Besides this task, Calvin prepared a new and much more effective catechism,^ and introduced a liturgy, based on that of his French congregation in Strassburg, which, in turn, was essentially a translation of that generally in use in that German city. In formulating it for Genevan use Calvin made a good many modifications to meet Genevan customs or prejudices.'* It combined a happy union of fixed and free prayer. Calvin had none of the hostility against fixed forms which his spiritual descendants in Great Britain and America afterward mani- fested. It also gave full place to singing. Under Calvin's guidance, and he held no other office than that of one of the ministers of the city, much was done for educa- tion and for improved trade; but all Genevan life was under the constant and minute supervision of the Consistoire. Calvin would make Geneva a model of a perfected Christian com- munity. Its strenuous Evangelicalism attracted refugees in large numbers, many of them men of position, learning, and wealth, principally from France, but also from Italy, the Netherlands, Scotland, and England. These soon became a 1 Kidd, pp. 589-G03. 2 /^jd., p. 647. 3 Extracts, Kidd, pp. G04-615. * Kidd, pp. 615-628. 398 CALVIN'S CONFLICTS very important factor in Genevan life, Calvin himself, and all his associated ministers, were foreigners. Opposition to his strenuous rule appeared practically from the first, but, by 1548, had grown very serious. It was made up of two elements, those to whom any discipline would have been irksome; and much more formidable, those of old Genevan families who felt that Calvin, his fellow ministers, and the refugees were for- eigners who were imposing a foreign yoke on a city of heroic traditions of independence. That there was a party of relig- ious Libertins in Geneva, is a baseless tradition. Calvin's severest struggle was from 1548 to 1555, from the time that some of the older inhabitants began to fear that they would be swamped politically by the refugees, till the refugees, almost all of whom were eager supporters of Calvin, achieved what had been dreaded, and made Calvin's position unshakable. Constantly increasing in fame outside of Geneva, Calvin stood in imminent peril, throughout this period, of hav- ing his Genevan work overthrown. The cases of conflict were many, but two stand out with special prominence. The first was that caused by Jerome Hermes Bolsec, a former monk of Paris, now a Protestant physician in Veigy, near Geneva. In the Congregation Bolsec charged Calvin with error in asserting predestination. That was to attack the very foundations of Calvin's authority, for his sole hold on Geneva was as an interpreter of the Scrip- tures. If he was not right in all, he was thoroughly discredited. Calvin took Bolsec's charges before the city government in October, 1551. The result was Bolsec's trial. The opinions of other Swiss governments were asked, and it was evident that they attached no such weight to predestination as did Cal- vin. It was with difficulty that Calvin procured Bolsec's banishment, and the episode led him to a more strenuous in- sistence of the vital importance of predestination as a Chris- tian truth than even heretofore.^ As for Bolsec, he ultimately returned to the Roman communion and avenged himself on Calvin's memory by a grossly slanderous biography. Calvin was thus holding his power with difficulty, when in I'ebruary, 1553, the elections, which for some years had been fairly balanced, turned decidedly in favor of his opponents. His fall seemed inevitable, when he was rescued and put on ' I{add, pp. 641-6-15. SERVETUS 399 the path to ultimate victory by the arrival in Geneva of Miguel Servetus, whose case forms the second of those here men- tioned. Servetus was a Spaniard, almost the same age as Calvin, and undoubtedly a man of great, though erratic, genius. In 1531 he published his De Triniiatis Erroribus. Compelled to conceal his identity, he studied medicine under the name of Villeneuve, being the real discoverer of the pulmonary cir- culation of the blood. He settled in Vienne in France, where he developed a large practice. He was working secretly on his Restitution of Christianity, which he published early in 1553. To his thinking, the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity, the Chal- cedonian Christology, and infant baptism were the chief sources of the corruption of the church. As early as 1545, he had begun an exasperating correspondence with Calvin, whose Institutes he contemptuously criticised. Servetus's identity and authorship were unmasked to the Roman ecclesiastical authorities in Lyons, by Calvin's friend, Guillaume Trie, who, a little later, supplied further proof obtained from Calvin himself. He was condemned to be burned; though, before sentence, he had escaped from prison in Vienne. For reasons hard to understand he made his way to Geneva, and was there arrested in August, 1553. His con- demnation now became a test of strength between Calvin and the opposition, which did not dare come out openly in defense of so notorious a heretic, but made Calvin all the difficulties that it could. As for Servetus, he had much hope for a favor- able issue, and demanded that Calvin be exiled and Calvin's goods adjudged to him. The trial ended in Servetus's con- viction and death by fire on October 27, 1553. Though a few voices of protest were raised, notably that of Sebastien Castellio (1515-1563) of Basel, most men agreed with Melanchthon that it was "justly done." However odious the trial and its tragic end may seem in retrospect, for Calvin it was a great victory. It freed the Swiss churches from any imputation of unortho- doxy on the doctrine of the Trinity, while Calvin's opponents had ruined themselves by making difficult the punishment of one whom the general sentiment of that age condemned. Calvin's improved status was soon apparent. The elections of 1554 were decidedly in his favor, those of 1555 yet more so. In January, 1555, he secured permanent recognition of the right of the Consistoire to proceed to excommunication with- 400 CALVIN'S SUCCESS AND INFLUENCE out governmental interference.^ The now largely Calvinist government proceeded, the same year, to make its position secure by admitting a considerable number of the refugees to the franchise. A slight riot on the evening of May 16, 1555, begun by Calvin's opponents, was seized as the occasion of executing and banishing their leaders as traitors. Henceforth the party favorable to Calvin was undisputed master of Geneva. Bern was still hostile, but the common danger to Bern and Geneva when Emmanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy and victor for Spain over the French at St.-Quentin in 1557, was enabled to lay claim to his duchy, then mostly in possession of the French, brought about a "perpetual alliance," in January, 1558, in which Geneva stood for the first time on a full equality with its ally, Bern. Thus relieved of the most pressing perils, at home and abroad, Calvin crowned his Genevan work by the foundation in 1559 of the "Genevan Academy" — in reality, as it has long since become, the University of Geneva.^ It be- came immediately the greatest centre of theological instruction in the Reformed communions, as distinguished from the Lutheran, and the great seminary from which ministers in numbers were sent forth not only to France but in less de- gree to the Netherlands, England, Scotland, Germany, and Italy. Calvin's influence extended far beyond Geneva. Thanks to his Institutes, his pattern of church government in Geneva, his academy, his commentaries, and his constant correspondence, he moulded the thought and inspired the ideals of the Protes- tantism of France, the Netherlands, Scotland, and the English Puritans. His influence penetrated Poland and Hungary, and before his death Calvinism was taking root in southwestern Germany itself. Men thought his thoughts after him. His was the only system that the Reformation produced that could organize itself powerfully in the face of governmental hostility, as in France and England. It trained strong men, confident in their election to be fellow workers with God in the accom- plishment of His will, courageous to do battle, insistent on char- acter, and confident that God has given in the Scriptures the guide of all right human conduct and proper worship. The spiritual disciples of Calvin, in most various lands, bore one com- mon stamp. This was Calvin's work, a mastery of mind over ' Kidd, p. 647. « Ibid., p. 648. ENGLAND 0\ THE EVE OF THE REVOLT 401 mind, and certainly by the time of his death in Geneva, on May 27, 1504, he deserved the description of "the only international reformer." * Calvin left no successor of equal stature. The work had grown too large for any one man to direct. But in Geneva, and to a considerable extent in his labors beyond its borders, his mantle fell on the worthy shoulders of Theodore Beza (1519- 1605), a man of more conciliatory spirit and gentler ways, but devoted to the same ideals. SECTION IX. THE ENGLISH REVOLT In England the stronger Kings had long practically controlled episcopal appointments, and such as were made directly by the Pope were usually on some basis of agreement with the sover- eign. The chief political posts were filled by churchmen, partly because few laymen could vie with them in learning or experi- ence, and partly because the emoluments of high churchly office made such appointments inexpensive for the royal treasury. Naturally, in such appointments, ability and use- fulness in the royal service were apt to be more valued than spiritual fitness. Such was the state of affairs when Henrj'' VIII (1509-1547) began his reign. Some Wyclifianism existed in humble circles and occasionally came under churchly censure. Humanism had entered England and had found supporters in limited groups among the educated. John Colet (1467 ?-1519), ultimately dean of St. Paul's in London, had lectured in Oxford on Paul's epistles, in full humanistic spirit, as early as 1496, and refounded St. Paul's school in 1512. Erasmus had taught in Cambridge from 1511 to 1514, having first visited England in 1499, and he made many friends there. One of these was the excellent John Fisher (1469?-1535), bishop of Rochester, and another, the famous Sir Thomas More (1478-1535). Yet there was little in the situation at the beginning of Henry VIH's reign that made a change in the existing ecclesiastical situation seem possible. One trait of the national life was conspicuous, however, which was to be the basis of Henry VIII's support. That was a strongly developed national consciousness — a feeling of England for Englishmen — that was easily aroused to opposition to all foreign encroachment from whatever source. 1 liidd, p. 651. 402 HENRY VIII WISHES MARRIAGE ANNULLED Henry VIII, who has been well described as a " tyrant under legal forms," was a man of remarkable intellectual abilities and executive force, well read and always interested in scholastic theology, sympathetic with humanism, popular with the mass of the people, but egotistic, obstinate, and self-seeking. In the early part of his reign he had the support of Thomas Wolsey (1475-1530), who became a privy councillor in 1511, and in 1515 was made lord chancellor by the King and cardinal by Pope Leo X. Thenceforth he was Henry's right hand. WTien Luther's writings were received in England their use was for- bidden, and Henry VIII published his Assertion of the Seven Sacraments against Luther in 1521, which won from Leo X the title "Defender of the Faith." At the beginning of his reign Henry had married Catherine of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, and widow, though the marriage had been one in name only, of his older brother, Arthur. A dispensation authorizing this marriage with a deceased brother's wife had been granted by Julius II in 1503. Six children were born of this union, but only one, Mary, survived infancy. By 1527, if not earlier, Henry was alleging religious scruples as to the valid- ity of his marriage. His reasons were not wholly sensual. Had they been, he might well have been content with his mistresses. A woman had never ruled England. The Wars of the Roses had ended as recently as 1485. The absence of a male heir, should Henry die, would probably cause civil war. It was not likely that Catherine would have further children. He wanted another wife, and a male heir. Wolsey was induced to favor the project, partly from his sub- servience to the King, and partly because, if the marriage with Catherine should be declared invalid, he hoped Henry would marry the French princess, Renee, afterward duchess of Fer- rara, and thus be drawn more firmly from the Spanish to the French side in continental politics. Henry, however, had other plans. He had fallen in love with Anne Boleyn, a lady of his court. A complicated negotiation followed, in which Wolsey did his best to please Henry, while Catherine behaved with dignity and firmness, and was treated with cruelty. Prob- ably an annulment of the marriage might have been secured from Pope Clement VII had it not been for the course of Euro- pean politics, which left the Emperor Charles V victor in war, and forced the Pope into submission to the imperial policy HENRY VIII BREAKS WITH ROME 403 (ante, p. 358). Charles was determined that his aunt, Cathe- rine, should not be set aside. Henry, angered at Wolsey's want of success, turned on him, and the great cardinal died, November 30, 1530, on his way to be tried for treason. Henry now thought well of a suggestion of Thomas Cranmer (1489-1556), then teaching in Cambridge University, that the opmions of universities be sought. This was done in 1530, with only partial success; but a friendship was begun between the King and Cranmer that was to have momentous con- sequences. Favorable action from the Pope being now out of the ques- tion, Henry determined to rely on the national feeling of hos- tility to foreign rule, and his own despotic skill, either to break with the papacy altogether, or to so threaten papal control as to secure his wishes. In January, 1531, he charged the whole body of clergy with breach of the old statute of Prcemunire of 1353 for having recognized Wolsey's authority as papal legate — an authority which Henry himself had recognized and ap- proved. He not only extorted a great sum as the price of par- don, but the declaration by the convocations in which the clergy met, that in respect to the Church of England, he was "single and supreme Lord, and, as far as the law of Christ allows, even supreme head." Early in 1532, under severe royal pressure, Parliament passed an act forbidding the pay- ment of all annates to Rome save with the King's consent.^ In May following, the clergy in convocation agreed reluctantly, not only to make no new ecclesiastical laws without the King's permission, but to submit all existing statutes to a commission appointed by the Kmg.^ About January 25, 1533, Henry secretly married Anne Boleyn. In February Parliament for- bad all appeals to Rome.^ Henry used the conditional prohibi- tion of annates to procure from Pope Clement VII confirmation of his appointment of Thomas Cranmer as archbishop of Can- terbury. Cranmer was consecrated on March 30; on May 23, Cranmer held court and formally adjudged Henry's marriage to Catherine null and void. On September 7, Anne Boleyn bore a daughter, the princess Elizabeth, later to be Queen. While these events were occurring Clement VII had prepared * Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp. 178-186. 2 Ibid., pp. 176-178. » Ibid., pp. 187-195. 404 THE ROYAL SUPREMACY a bull threatening excommunication against Henry on July 1 1 , 1533. Henry's answer was a series of statutes obtained from Parliament In 1534, l)y which all payments to the Pope were forbidden, all bishops were to be elected on the King's nomina- tion, and all oaths of papal obedience, Roman licenses, and other recognitions of papal authority done away.^ The two convocations now formally abjured papal supremacy.^ In November, 1534, Parliament passed the famous Supremacy Act, by which Henry and his successors were declared "the only supreme head In earth of the Church of England," without qualifying clauses, and with full power to redress "heresies" and "abuses."^ This was not understood by the King or its authors as giving spiritual rights, such as ordination, the administration of the sacraments and the like, but in all else it practically put the King in the place of the Pope. The breach with Rome was complete. Nor were these statutes in any way meaningless. In May, 1535, a number of monks of one of the most respected orders In England, that of the Car- thusians, or Charterhouse, were executed under circumstances of peculiar barbarity, for denying the King's supremacy. In June and July the two most widely known subjects of the King, Bishop John Fisher and Sir Thomas More, distinguished alike for character and scholarship, were beheaded for the same offense. For his work, Henry had found a new agent in Thomas Cromwell (1485?-1540), a man of very humble origin, a sol- dier, merchant, and money-lender by turns, of whom Wolsey had made much use as business and parliamentary agent. By 1531 Cromwell was of the privy council; in 1534 master of the rolls; and In 153G, layman that he was, viceregent for the King in ecclesiastical affairs. Henry was hungry for ecclesiastical property, both to maintain his lavish court and to create and reward adherents — the Reformation everywhere was marked by these confiscations — and late in 1534 he commissioned Cromwell to have the monasteries visited and report on their condition. The alleged facts, the truth or falsity of which is still a disputed matter, were laid before Parliament, which In February, 1536, adjudged to the King, "his heirs and assigns forever, to do and use therewith his and their own wills," all 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 201-232. ^ Ibid., pp. 251, 252. 8 Ibid., pp. 243, 244. RISE OF A PROTESTANT PARTY 405 monastic establishments having an income of less than two hundred pounds annually.^ The number thus sequestered was three hundred and seventy-six. Meanwhile Henry had been in part reheved from the danger of foreign intervention by the death in January, 1536, of Catherine of Aragon. He seems now to have wished to con- tract a marriage not open to the criticisms of that with Anne Boleyn, of whom he was, moreover, tired. She was accord- ingly charged with adultery, in May, 1536, whether rightly or wrongly is impossible to decide, though the accusation seems suspicious, and on the 19th was beheaded. Two days be- fore Cranmer had pronounced her marriage to Henry null and void. Eleven days later Henry married Jane Seymour, who bore him a son, Edward, on October 12, 1537, and died twelve days thereafter. Henry's deeds, especially the suppression of the monasteries, aroused much opposition, notably in northern England, with the result that a formidable insurrection, known as the Pilgrimage of Grace, broke out in the summer of 1536, but by the early part of the following year was effectually crushed. Though these changes in England were primarily those of ecclesiastical politics rather than religious conviction, the dis- turbed state of the country gave opportunity for a real, though as yet not numerous, Protestant party. In origin it seems to have been more indigenous than imported, and to have followed more at first the pathway shown by Wyclif than by Luther. Like Wyclif, it looked to the state to reform the church, and viewed the riches of the church as a hindrance to its spirituality. Hence this party had little fault to find with Henry's assertions and confiscations. Like Wyclif, it valued the circulation of the Bible, and came more and more to test doctrine and ceremony by conformity to the Scriptures. As the German revolt de- veloped, it came to feel more and more continental influences. A conspicuous leader was William Tyndale (1492?-1536). Eager to translate the New Testament, and unable to have it published in England, he found refuge on the Continent in 1524, visited Luther, and published a really admirable transla- tion from the Greek in 1526. Churchly and civil authorities tried to suppress it, but it was a force in spreading the knowledge of the Scriptures. Tyndale himself died a martyr in Vilvorde, 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 257-268. 40G HENRY'S OWN RELIGIOI\S ATTITUDE near Brussels, in 1536. Tyndale's friend, John Frith (1503- 1533), found refuge in Marburg, and thence returned to Eng- land, only to be arrested and burned in I>ondon in 1533 for denying the doctrines of purgatory and transubstantiation. In sympathy with these doctrinally reformatory views, though varying in outward expression, were Cranmer, Nicholas Ridley (1500?-1555), Hugh Latimer (1490?-1555), and John Hooper ( ?-1555), all to be bishops, and all to die by fire for their faith. As Henry's opposition to Rome developed, Protestant feeling spread among laymen of influence, a conspicuous instance being the Seymour family, from which Henry had taken his third Queen. Henry's own religious attitude was that of Catholic ortho- dox\', save on the substitution of his own authority for that of the Pope. His only departures from it were when dangers of attack from abroad compelled him to seek possible political support from the German Protestants, and he did not then go far. Such an occasion occurred in the years 1535 and 1536. He sent a commission to discuss doctrine in Wittenberg, though it came to little. In 1536 Henry himself drafted Ten Articles in which he made his utmost concession to Protestant- ism. The authoritative standards of faith are the Bible, the Apostles', Nicene, and Athanasian creeds, and the "four first councils," Only three sacraments are defined: baptism, pen- ance, and the Lord's Supper; the others are not mentioned either in approval or denial. Justification implies faith in Christ alone, but confession and absolution and works of charity are also necessary. Christ is physically present in the Supper. Images are to be honored, but with moderation. The saints are to be invoked, but not because they "will hear us sooner than Christ." Masses for the dead are desirable, but the idea that the "bishop of Rome" can deliver out of purgatory is to be rejected. A more influential act of this time, instigated by Cranmer, was that an English translation of the Bible, made up in large part of Tyndale's version, but in considerable portion from the inferior work of Miles Coverdale, was allowed sale in 1537, and was ordered by Cromwell in 1538 to be placed accessible to the pul)lic in each church.^ The Lord's Prayer and the ten commandments were to be taught in English, the litany was 1 Gee and Hardy, p. 275. HENRY'S RELIGIOUS POLICY 407 translated; but otherwise worship remained substantially un- changed in the Latin language and form while Henry lived. Henry's work during these years had been free from for- eign interference, because Charles V and Francis I were at war from 1536 to 1538. With the arrival of peace his dangers greatly increased. The Pope demanded a joint attack by France and Spain on the royal rebel. Henry's diplomacy and mutual jealousies warded it off; but he took several steps of importance to lessen his peril. He would show the world that he was an orthodox Catholic save in regard to the Pope. Ac- cordingly, in June, 1539, Parliament passed the SLx Articles Act.^ It affirmed as the creed of England a strict doctrine of transubstantiation, denial of which was to be punished by fire. It repudiated communion in both bread and wine, and priestly marriage. It ordered the permanent observation of vows of chastity, enjoined private masses, and auricular confession. This statute remained in force till Henry's death. It was not enough, however, that Henry should show himself orthodox. He was a widower, and Cromwell was urgent that he strengthen his position by a marriage which would please the German Protestants, and unite him with those opposed to the Emperor Charles V. Anne of Cleves, sister of the wife of John Fred- erick, the Saxon Elector, was selected. The marriage took place on January 6, 1540. Meanwhile Henry had completed the confiscations of all the monasteries in 1539.^ He was stronger at home than ever. Francis and Charles were evidently soon to be again at war, and the Emperor was beginning to court Henry's assistance. German Protestants looked askance at his Six Articles, and he now no longer needed their aid. Henry had regarded the mar- riage with Anne of Cleves as a mere political expedient. An annulment was obtained in July, 1540, from the bishops on the ground that the King had never given "inward consent" to the marriage, and Anne was handsomely indemnified pe- cuniarily. For Cromwell, to whom the marriage was due, he had no further use. A bill of attainder was put through Parliament, and the King's able, but utterly unscrupulous, servant was beheaded on July 28, 1540. These events were accompanied by increasing opposition to the Protestant ele- ment, and this Catholic inclination was evidenced in Henry's 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 303-319. ^ Ibid., pp. 281-303. 408 PROTESTANTISIM IN POWER marriage to Catherine Howard, niece of the duke of Norfolk, shortly after his separation from Anne of Cleves ; but the new Queen's conduct was open to question, and in February, 1542, she was beheaded. In July, 1543, he married Catherine Parr, who had the fortune to survive him. On January 28, 1547, Henry died. At Henry's death England was divided Into three parties. Of these, that embracing the great body of Englishmen stood fairly with the late King In desiring no considerable change In doctrine or worship, while rejecting foreign ecclesiastical juris- diction. It had been Henry's strength that, with all his tyranny, he was fairly representative of this great middle party. There were, besides, two small parties, neither fairly represen- ,^ tative — a Catholic wing that would restore the power of the / \ papacy, and a Protestant faction that would introduce reform as it was understood on the Continent. The latter had un- doubtedly been growing, in spite of repression, during Henry's last years. It was to be England's fortune that the two smaller and unrepresentative parties should be successively in power during the next two reigns, and that to religious turmoil agra- rian unrest should be added, owing to the great changes in property caused by monastic confiscations, and even more to enclosures of common lands by greedy landlords, and the im- poverishment of humbler tenants by the loss of their time- honored rights of use. Edward VI was but nine years of age. The government was, therefore, administered in his name by a council, of which the earl of Hertford, or, as he was immediately created, duke of Somerset, was chief, with the title of Protector. Somerset was the brother of the young King's mother, the short-lived Jane Seymour. He was a man of Protestant sympathies, and of excellent intentions — a believer in a degree of liberty in religious and political questions in marked contrast to Henry VIII. He was, also, a sincere friend of the dispossessed lower agricul- tural classes. Under his rule the new comparative freedom of religious expression led to many local innovations and much controversy, in which the revolutionary party more and more gained the upper hand. In 1547 Parliament ordered the ad- ministration of the cup to the lalty.^ The same year the last great confiscation of church lands occurred — the dissolution of » Gee and Hardy, pp. 322-328, THE PRAYER BOOK 409 the "chantries," that is, endowed chapels for saying masses. The properties of reUgious fraternities and guilds were also sequestered.^ The Six Articles were repealed. Early in 1548 images were ordered removed from the churches. The marriage of priests was made legal in 1549.^ The confusion soon became great, and as a means at once of advancing the reforms and securing order, Parliament, on January 21, 1549, enacted an Act of Uniformity,^ by which the universal use of a Book of Common Prayer in English was required. This book, known as the First Prayer Book of Ed- ward VI, was largely the work of Cranmer, based on the older English services in Latin, with some use of a revised Roman breviary, published in 1535 by Cardinal Fernandez de Quinones, and the Lutheranly inclined tentative Consultation of Hermann von Wied, archbishop of Cologne, issued in 1543. In its larger feature it is still the Prayer Book of the Church of Eng- land, but this edition preserved much of detail of older wor- ship, such as prayers for the dead, communion at burials, anointing and exorcism in baptism, and anointing the sick, which was soon to be abandoned. In the Eucharist the words used in handing the elements to the communicant were the first clause of the present Anglican form, implying that the body and blood of Christ are really received. Meanwhile, Somerset was beset with political troubles. To counteract the growing power of France in Scotland he urged the union of the two countries by the ultimate marriage of King Edward with the Scottish Princess Mary, to be "Queen of Scots," and supported his efforts by an invasion of Scotland in which the Scots were terribly defeated, on September 10, 1547, at Pinkie, but by which his main purpose was frustrated. The angered Scottish leaders hastened to betroth Mary to the heir of France, the later Francis II, an event of prime signifi- cance for the Scottish reformation. Somerset's fall came about, however, through causes credita- ble to himself. He realized the agrarian discontent, and be- lieved that efforts should be furthered to check enclosures. In this he had the bitter opposition of the landowning classes, of whom none were more greedy than the recent purchasers of monastic property. Extensive risings took place in 1549. They were put down w4th difficulty, largely by the efficiency of iGee and Hardy, pp. 328-357. 'Ibid., pp. 366-368. 'Ibid., pp. 358-366. 410 SOMERSET AND NORTHUMBERLAND the earl of Warwick. Thus in favor with the propertied classes, Warwick headed a conspiracy which thrust Somerset from his protectorate in October, 1549. Warwick, or the duke of Northumberland as he later be- came, though never assuming the title Protector, was now the most powerful man in England. The religious situation under- w^ent rapid change. Somerset had been a man of great modera- tion, anxious to conciliate all parties. Northumberland was without religious principles himself, but he pushed forward the Protestant cause for political reasons, and the movement now took on a much more radical character. Though ap- parently reconciled to Somerset, he distrusted the former protector's popularity, and had Somerset beheaded in 1552. His own greed, tyranny, and misgovernment made him cor- dially hated. The Prayer Book of 1549 was not popular. Conservatives disliked the changes. Protestants felt that it retained too much of Roman usage. These criticisms were supported by a number of foreign theologians of prominence, driven from Ger- many by the Interim, who found welcome in England, of whom the most influential was Butzer of Strassburg. This hostility was now able to be effective under the more radical policy of Northumberland, and led to the revision of the Prayer Book, and its reissue under a new Act of Uniformity in 1552.* Much more of the ancient ceremonial was now done away. Prayers for the dead were now omitted, a communion table substituted for the altar, common bread, instead of a special wafer, used in the Supper, exorcism and anointing set aside, the priests' vest- ments restricted to the surplice, and what is now the second clause of the Anglican form of the delivery of the elements substituted, implying a doctrine looking toward the Zwinglian conception of the Supper. Cranmer had been engaged in the preparation of a creed, which was submitted by order of the Council of Government in 1552 to six theologians, of whom John Knox was one. The result was the Forty-two Articles, which were authorized by the young King's signature, June 12, 1553, less than a month before his death. Though moderate for the period, they were decidedly more Protestant in tone than the Prayer Book. Unpopular as he was, Northumberland was determined to ' Gee and Hardy, pp. 369-372. MARY; THE ROMAN REACTION 411 maintain his power. Edward VI was visibly frail in body, and Northumberland feared for his own life should Mary suc- ceed to the throne. The plan that he now adopted was desper- ate. He induced the youthful King to settle the succession on Lady Jane Grey, wife of Northumberland's fourth son, Guilford Dudley, and granddaughter of Henry VIII's sister Mary. Edward VI had no legal right so to do. He passed by the claims of his half-sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, and of Mary "Queen of Scots," whose genealogical title was better than that of Lady Jane. To this wild plan Cranmer gave reluctant consent. On July 6, 1553, Edward VI died. Northumberland's plot failed completely. His unpopularity was such that even the most Protestant portions of England, such as the city of London, rallied to Mary, She was soon safely on the throne and Northumberland was beheaded, de- claring on the scaffold that he was a true Catholic. Mary proceeded with caution at first, guided by the astute advice of her cousin the Emperor Charles V. Parliament declared her mother's marriage to Henry VIII valid. The ecclesiastical legislation of Edward VI's reign was repealed, and public wor- ship restored to the forms of the last year of Henry VIII.* Cranmer was imprisoned. The Emperor saw in Mary's proba- ble marriage an opportunity to win England, and now proposed his son Philip, soon to be Philip II of Spain, as her husband. The marriage took place on July 25, 1554, and was exceedingly unpopular, as threatening foreign control. Reconciliation with Rome had thus far been delayed, though bishops and other clergy of reformatory sympathies had been removed, and many of the more earnest Protestants had fled to the Continent, where they were warmly received by Calvin, though coolly treated by the Lutherans as heretical on the ques- tion of Christ's physical presence in the Lord's Supper. The reason of this delay was fear lest the confiscated church proper- ties should be taken from their present holders. On intimation that this would not be the papal policy. Cardinal Reginald Pole (1500-1558) was admitted to England. Parliament voted the restoration of papal authority, and on November 30, 1554, Pole pronounced it and the nation was absolved of heresy. Parliament now proceeded to re-enact the ancient laws against heresy^ and to repeal Henry VIII's ecclesiastical legislation, 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 377-380. ^ jud,^ p. 354. 412 EXECUTIONS UNDER MARY thus restoring the church to the state in which it had been in 1529, save that former church property was assured by the statute to its present possessors.^ Severe persecution at once began. Its first victim was John Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, who was burned in London on February 4, 1555. The attitude of the people, who cheered him on the w^ay to the stake, was ominous for this policy ; but before the end of the year, seventy-five had suffered by fire in various parts of England, of whom the most notable were the former bishops, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, whose heroic fortitude at their deaths in Oxford, on October 16, created a profound popular impression. Another conspicuous victim of this year was John Hooper, former bishop of Glou- cester and Worcester. Mary w'as determined to strike the high- est of the anti-Roman clergy, Archbishop Cranmer. Cranmer was not of the heroic stuff of which Latimer, Ridley, Hooper, and Rogers were made. He wns formally excommunicated by sentence at Rome on November 25, 1555, and Pole was shortly after made archbishop of Canterbury in his stead. Cranmer was now in a logical dilemma. He had asserted, since his appointment under Henry VIII, that the sovereign is the supreme authority in the English church. His Protestantism was real, but that sovereign was now a Roman Catholic. In his distress he now made submission declaring that he recog- nized papal authority as established by law. Mary had no intention of sparing the man who had pronounced her mother's marriage invalid. Cranmer must die. But it was hoped that by a public abjuration of Protestantism at his death he would discredit the Reformation. That hope was nearly realized. Cranmer signed a further recantation denying Protestantism wholl}-; but on the day of his execution in Oxford, March 21, 1556, his courage returned. He repudiated his retractions absolutely, declared his Protestant faith, and held the offending hand, which had signed the now renounced submissions, in the flame till it was consumed. His dying day was the noblest of his life. Philip had left England in 1555, and this absence, coupled with her own childless state, preyed on Mary's mind, inducing her to feel that she had not done enough to satisfy the judgment of God. Persecution therefore continued unabated till her iGce and Hardy, pp. 385-415. ACCESSION OF ELIZABETH 413 death on November 17, 1558. In all, somewhat less than three hundred were burned — a scanty number compared with the toll of sufferers in the Netherlands. But English sentiment deeply revolted. These martyrdoms did more for the spread of anti-Roman sentiment than all previous governmental efforts had accomplished. It was certain that the accession of the next sovereign would witness a change or civil war. Elizabeth (Queen 1558-1603) had long passed as illegitimate, though her place in the succession had been secured by act of Parliament in the lifetime of Henry VIII. Of all Henry's children she was the only one who really resembled him in ability, insight, and personal popularity. With a masculine force of character she combined a curious love of personal adorn- ment inherited from her light-minded mother. Of real religious feeling she had none, but her birth and Roman denials of her mother's marriage made her necessarily a Protestant, though under Mary, when her life had been in danger, she had con- formed to the Roman ritual. Fortunately her accession had the support of Philip II of Spain, soon to be her bitterest en- emy. That favor helped her with English Catholics. Earnest Roman as he was, Philip was politician enough not to wish to see France, England, and Scotland come under the rule of a single royal pair, and if Elizabeth was not Queen of England, then Mary "Queen of Scots," wife of the prince who was in 1559 to become King Francis II of France, was rightfully entitled to the English throne. In her first measures on acces- sion Elizabeth enjoyed, moreover, the aid of one of the most cautious and far-sighted statesmen England has ever produced, William Cecil (1521-1598), better known as Lord Burghley, whom she at once made her secretary and who was to be her chief adviser till his death. For Elizabeth it was a great ad- vantage also that she was thoroughly English in feeling, and deeply sympathetic with the political and economic ambitions of the nation. This representative quality recon- ciled many to her government whom mere religious considera- tions would have repelled. No one doubted that she put Eng- land first. Elizabeth proceeded cautiously with her changes. Parlia- ment passed the new Supremacy Act,^ with much opposition, on April 29, 1559. By it the authority of the Pope and all pay- 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 442-458. 414 THE ELIZABETHAN SETTLEMENT ments and appeals to him were rejected. A significant change of title appeared, however, by Elizabeth's own insistence. Instead of the old "Supreme Head," so obnoxious to the Catholics, she was now styled "Supreme Governor" of the church in England — a much less objectionable phrase, though amounting to the same thing in practice. The tests of heresy were now to be the Scriptures, the first four General Councils, and the decisions of Parliament. Meanwhile a commission had been revising the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI {ante, p. 410). The prayer against the Pope was omitted, as was the declaration that kneeling at the Supper did not imply adora- tion, while the question of Christ's physical presence was left intentionally undetermined by the combination of the forms of delivery in the two Edwardean books (ante, pp. 409, 410). These modifications were designed to render the new service more palatable to Catholics. The Act of Uniformity^ now ordered all worship to be conducted, after June 24, 1559, in accordance with this' liturgy, and provided that the ornaments of the church and the vestments of its ministers should be those of the second year of Edward VI. The oath of supremacy was refused by all but two ob- scurer members of the Marian episcopate, but among the lower clergy generally resistance was slight, the obstinate not amount- ing to two hundred. New bishops must be provided, and Elizabeth directed the election of her mother's one-time chap- lain, Matthew Parker (1504-1575), as archbishop of Canter- bury. His consecration was a perplexing question; but there were those in England who had received ordination to the bishopric under Henry VIII and Edward VI. Parker was now consecrated, on December 17, 1559, at the hands of four such — William Barlow, John Scory, INIiles Coverdale, and John Hodg- kin. The validity of the act, on which the apostolic succession of the English episcopate depends, has always been strongly affirmed by Anglican divines, while attacked by Roman tlieo- logians, on various grounds, and declared invalid by Pope Leo XIII in 1896, for defect in "intention." Thus inaugurated, a new Anglican episcopate was speedily established. A defini- tion of the creed, other than implied in the Prayer Book, was purposely posti)oned; but in 1563 the Forty-two Articles of 1553 (ante, p. 410) were somewhat revised, and as the famous 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 458-4G7. SCOTLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION 415 Thirty-nine Articles, became the statement of faith of the Church of England.^ Thus, by 1563 the Elizabethan settlement was accom- pHshed. It was threatened from two sides: from that of Rome, and, even more dangerously, from the earnest reformers who wished to go further and soon were to be nicknamed Puritans. The remarkable feature of the English revolt is that it pro- duced no outstanding religious leader — no Luther, Zwingli, Calvin, or Knox. Nor did it, before the beginning of Eliza- beth's reign, manifest any considerable spiritual awakening among the people. Its impulses were political and social. A great revival of the religious life of England was to come, the earlier history of which was to be coincident with Elizabeth's reign, but which was to owe nothing to her. SECTION X. THE SCOTTISH REVOLT At the dawn of the sixteenth century Scotland was a poor and backward country. Its social conditions were mediaeval. The power of its Kings was small. Its nobles were turbulent. Relatively its church was rich in land, owning about one-half that of the country, but churchly positions were largely used to supply places for younger sons of noble houses, and much clerical property was in the hands of the lay nobles. The weak mon- archy had usually leaned on the church as against the lay nobility. Education was backward, though universities had been founded in the fifteenth century in St. Andrews, Glas- gow, and Aberdeen. Compared with continental seats of learn- ing they were weak. The determining motive of most of Scottish political history in this period was fear of dominance or annexation by Eng- land, persuading it to link the fortunes of the land with those of France. Three grievous defeats by the English — Flodden (1513), Solway Moss (1542), and Pinkie (1547)— strengthened this feeling of antagonism, but showed that even English superi- ority in force could not conquer Scotland. On the other hand, Scotland in alliance with France was a great peril for England, the more serious when England had broken with the papacy. Therefore England and France both sought to build up parties and strengthen factions favorable to themselves in Scotland. 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, III : 487-516. 416 PROTESTANT BEGINNINGS. KNOX On the whole the powerful family of Douglas was inclined toward England, while that of Hamilton favored P>ance. France also had strong supporters in Archbishop James Beaton (?-1539) of St. Andrews, the primate of Scotland, and his nephew. Cardinal David Beaton (1494?-1546), his successor in the same see. Though King James V (reigned 1513-1542) was nephew of Henry VIII, and his grandson, James VI, was to become James I of England in 1603 and unite the two crowns after the death of Elizabeth, James V threw in his fortunes with France, marrying successively a daughter of Francis I, and, after her death, INIary of Lorraine, of the powerful French Catholic family of Guise. This latter union, so important in the history of Scotland, was to have as its fruit Mary "Queen of Scots." Some Protestant beginnings were early made in Scotland. Patrick Hamilton (1504?-1528), who had visited Wittenberg and studied in Marburg, preached Lutheran doctrine, and was burned on February 29, 1528. The cause grew slowly. In 1534 and 1540 there were other executions. Yet, in 1543 the Scottish Parliament authorized the reading and translation of the Bible. It was but a temporary phase, due to English influence, and by 1544 Cardinal Beaton and the French party were employing strong repression. Chief of the preachers at this time was George Wishart (1513?-1546), who was burned by Cardinal Beaton on March 2, 1546. On May 29 Beaton himself was brutally murdered, partly in revenge for Wishart's death and partly out of hostility to his French policy. The murderers gained possession of the castle of St. Andrews and rallied their sympathizers there. In 1547 a hunted Protestant preacher, apparently a convert and certainly a friend of Wish- art, of no considerable previous conspicuity, took refuge with them and became their spiritual teacher. This was John Knox, to be the hero of the Scottish reformation. Born in or near Haddington, between 1505 and 1515, Knox's early career was obscure. He was certainly ordained to the priesthood, but when Wishart was arrested he was with that martyr, and prepared to defend him. French forces sent to reduce the rebels in St. Andrews castle compelled its surrender, and Knox was carried to France to endure for nineteen months the cruel lot of a galley-slave. Released at length, he made his way to England, then under the Protestant government ruling in the name of Edward Yl, became one of the royal chap- KNOX'S LEADERSHIP 417 lalns, and in 1552 declined the bishopric of Rochester. The accession of Mary compelled his flight, in 1554, but the English refugees whom he first joined in Frankfort were divided by his criticisms of the Edwardean Prayer-Book,^ and he soon found a welcome in Geneva, where he became an ardent dis- ciple of Calvin, and labored on the Genevan version of the English Bible, later so valued by the English Puritans. Meanwhile the English had alienated Scotland more than ever by the defeat of Pinkie, in 1547. Mary "Queen of Scots" had been betrothed to the heir to the French throne and sent to France for safety in 1548, while her mother, the Guise, Mary of Lorraine, became regent of Scotland in 1554. To a large portion of the Scottish nobles and people this full dependence on France was as hateful as any submission to England could have been. Protestantism and national inde- pendence seemed to be bound together, and it was in this double struggle that Knox was to be the leader. Knox now dared to return to Scotland, in 1555, and preached for six months ; but the situation was not yet ripe for revolt, and Knox returned to Geneva to become the pastor of the church of English-speaking refugees there. He had, however, sowed fruitful seed. On December 3, 1557, a number of Protestant and anti-French nobles in Scotland entered into a covenant to "establish the most blessed Word of God and His congre- gation" — from which they were nicknamed "The Lords of the Congregation." ^ Additional fuel was given to this dissent by the marriage of Mary to the French heir on April 24, 1558.^ Scotland now seemed a province of France, for should there be a son of this union he would be ruler of both lands, and the French grip was made doubly sure by an agreement signed by Mary, kept secret at the time, that France should receive Scotland should she die without heirs. Before 1558 was ended Elizabeth was Queen of England, and Mary "Queen of Scots" was denouncing her as an illegitimate usurper, and proclaiming herself the rightful occupant of the English throne. Under these circumstances the advocates of Scottish inde- pendence and of Protestantism rapidly increased and became more and more fused into one party. Elizabeth, moreover, could be expected to assist, if only for her own protection. Knox saw that the time was ready. On May 2, 1559, he was 1 Kidd, p. G91. 2 Ibid., p. 696. ^ Ibid., p. 690. 418 THE SCOTTISH CHURCH back in Scotland. Nine days later he preached in Perth. The mob destroyed the monastic establishments of the town.^ This action the regent naturally regarded as rank rebellion. She had French troops at her disposal, and both sides promptly armed for combat. They proved fairly equal, and the result was undecided. Churches were wrecked and monastic property sacked, to Knox's disgust, in many parts of Scotland. On July 10, 1559, Henry H of France died, and Mary's husband, Francis H became King in his stead. French reinforcements were promptly sent to the regent in Scotland. Matters went badly for the reformers. At last, in January, 1560, English help came. The contest dragged. On June 11, 1560, the re- gent died, but her cause perished with her. On July 6 a treaty was made between France and England by which French soldiers were withdrawn from Scotland, and Frenchmen were debarred from all important posts in its government. The revolution had triumphed through English aid, but with- out forfeiting Scottish national independence, and its inspirer had been Knox.^ In this contest the Scottish middle classes had jBrst shown themselves a power, and their influence was for the newer order. The victorious party now pushed its triumph in the Scottish ParUament. On August 17, 1560, a Calvinistic confession of faith, largely prepared by Knox, was adopted as the creed of the realm.^ A week later the same body abolished papal juris- diction, and forbad the mass under pain of death for the third offense.'' Though the King and Queen in France refused their approval, the majority of the nation had spoken. Knox and his associates now proceeded to complete their work. In December, 1560, a meeting was held which is re- garded as the first Scottish "General Assembly," in January following the First Book of Discipline was presented to the Parliament.^ It was a most remarkable document, attempt- ing to apply the system worked out by Calvin to a whole king- dom, though the Presbyterian system was far from thoroughly developed as yet. In each parish there should be a minister and elders holding office with the consent of the congregation. Minister and elders constituted the disciplinary board — the 1 Kidd, p. 697. 2 Ihiil, pp. 698-700. 3 Ibid., pp. 700, 704-707 ; Schatf, Creeda of Chrislendom, 3 : 437-479. * Ibid., pp. 701, 702. 6 ji,id., p^ 707. KNOX'S ECCLESIASTICAL SYSTEM 419 later " session " — with power of excommunication. In the larger towns were to be meetings for discussion, out of which "pres- byteries" were to grow ; over groups of ministers and congrega- tions were synods, and over all the " General Assembly." The need of the times and the inchoate state of the church led to two further institutions, "readers," in places where there were no ministers or the work was large, and "superintendents," without spiritual authority, but with administrative right to oversee the organization of parishes, and recommend minis- terial candidates. Besides these ecclesiastical features, the Book sketched out notable schemes of national education and for the relief of the poor. Knox would have church, education, and poor supported from the old church property ; but here the Book met the resistance of Parliament, which did not adopt it, though many of the body approved. The ecclesiastical constitution gradually came into force; but the nobles so possessed themselves of church lands that the church from relatively to the means of the country one of the richest became one of the poorest in Christendom. This relative pov- erty stamped on it a democratic character, however, that was to make the church of Scotland the bulwark of the people against encroachments by the nobles and the crown. All observances not having Scriptural authority were swept away. Sunday was the only remaining holy day. For the conduct of public worship Knox prepared a Book of Common Order, sometimes called "Knox's Liturgy," which was ap- proved by the "General Assembly," in 1564.^ It was largely based on that of the English congregation in Geneva, which in turn was modelled on that of Calvin. It allowed, however, even more use of free prayer, the forms given being regarded as models, the strict employment of which was not obligatory, though the general order and content of the service were definite enough. Knox was soon obliged to defend what he had gained. King Francis II of France died on December 5, 1560, and in the following August Mary returned to Scotland. Her position as a youthful widow was one to excite a sympathy which her great personal charm increased. She was no longer Queen of France, and that element which had supported Protestant- ism not by reason of religion but from desire of national in- 1 Kidd, pp. 708-715. 420 MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS dependence might well think that the pressing danger of French domination which had induced acquiescence in the rehgious revohition had passed. Mary behaved, at first, with great prudence. While she made no secret of her own faith, and had mass said in her chapel to the furious disapproval of Knox, who was now minister of St. Giles in Edinburgh, and admired by the burghers of that city, she did not interfere in the re- ligious settlement effected in 1560. She strove to secure recog- nition as Elizabeth's heir to the English throne, a thing which Elizabeth had no mind to grant. Mary had the sage advice of her half-brother, James Stewart, later to be earl of Moray (1531 ?-1570), who had been a leader of the "Lords of the Congregation." She tried by personal interviews of great skill to win Knox, but he refused any overture and remained the soul of the Protestant party. Still the prospect darkened for him. Mary won friends. The Protestant nobles were divided. The mass was increasingly being used. Knox had good reason to fear that Mary would give a Catholic King to Scotland by marrying some great foreign prince. A marriage with the son of Philip II of Spain was seriously discussed. Even more alarming for the Protestant cause in Scotland and England was Mary's actual marriage on July 29, 1565, to her cousin, Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley (1545-1567), with whom she had fallen in love. Darnley's claim to the English throne stood next to that of Mary herself. He was popular with English Catholics, and though he had passed as a Protestant in England, he now avowed himself a Catholic. The marriage increased Elizabeth's danger at home and strengthened the Catholic party in Scotland. Moray opposed it, was driven from court, and soon into exile, and Mary made much progress in subduing, one after another, the Protestant lords who sym- pathized with Moray. She thus lost her wisest adviser. Thus far Mary had acted fairly shrewdly, but Scottish Protes- tantism was now saved by Mary's mistakes and want of self- control. Darnley was certainly disagreeable and vicious. Her feelings for him changed. On the other hand, his jealousj'^ was roused by the favor which ]\Tary showefl to David Riccio, an Italian whom Mary employed as a foreign secretary, and who was looked upon by the Protestant lords as their enemy. Darnley and a number of Protestant nobles, therefore, entered into a plot by which Riccio was dragged from Marj^'s presence IVIARY'S DOWNFALL 421 and murdered in the palace of Holyrood, on March 9, 1566. Mary behaved with great cunning. Dissembling her anger at the weak Darnley, she secured from him the names of his fellow conspirators, outlawed those who had actually participated in the deed, and took the others back into favor, of course with the knowledge on their part that they were received on suffer- ance. On June 19, 1566, Mary and Darnley's son was born, the future James VI of Scotland and James I of England. Mary never seemed surer on the Scottish throne. In reality Mary had never forgiven her husband, and she was now thrown much with a Protestant noble, James Hep- burn, earl of Bothwell (1536?-1578), a rough, licentious, but brave, loyal, and martial man, whose qualities contrasted with those of her weak husband. Bothwell now led in a conspiracy to rid Mary of Darnley, with how much share on the part of Mary herself is still one of the disputed questions of history. Darnley, who w^as recovering from smallpox, was removed by Mary from Glasgow to a house on the edge of Edinburgh, where Mary spent part of the last evening with him. Early on the morning of February 10, 1567, the house was blown up, and Darnley's body was found near it. Public opinion charged Bothwell with the murder, and it widely believed, probably with justice, that Mary also was guilty of it. At all events she heaped honors on Bothwell, who succeeded in securing ac- quittal by a farce of a trial. On April 24, Bothwell met Mary on one of her journeys and made her captive by a show of force — it was generally believed with her connivance. He was married, but he was divorced from his wife for adultery on May 3, and on May 15 he and Mary were married by Protes- tant rites. These shameless transactions roused general hostility in Scotland, while they robbed Mary, for the time, of Catholic sympathy in England and on the Continent. Protestants and Catholics in Scotland joined forces against her. Just a month after the wedding Mary was a prisoner, and on July 24, 1567, she was compelled to abdicate in favor of her year-old son, and appoint Moray as regent, while she was herself imprisoned in Lochleven Castle. On July 29 John Knox preached the sermon at James VI's coronation. With Mary's fall came the triumph of Protestantism, which was now definitely established by Parliament in December. Mary herself escaped from 422 KNOX AND IMELVILLE Lochleven In May, 1568, but Moray promptly defeated her supporters, and she fled to P^ngland, where she was to remain, a centre of Catholic intrigue, till her execution for conspiracy against Elizabeth's life, in February, 1587. Knox's fiery career was about over. On November 24, 1572, he died, having influenced not merely the religion but the character of the nation more than any other man in Scottish history. Knox's work was to be taken up by Andrew Melville (1545-1623), who had taught as Beza's colleague in Geneva, from 1568 to his return to Scotland in 1574. He was the edu- cational reformer of the Universities of Glasgow and St. Andrews and even more distinguished as the perfecter of the Presbyterian system in Scotland and its vigorous defender against the royal and episcopal encroachments of James VI, who compelled him to spend the last sixteen years of his life in exile from his native land. SECTION XI. THE ROMAN REVIVAL It has already been noted {ante, pp. 321-325) that a genera- tion before Luther's breach with Rome, Spain was witnessing a vigorous reformatory work led by Queen Isabella and Car- dinal Ximenes. It combined zeal for a more moral and intelli- gent clergy, abolition of glaring abuses, and Biblical studies for the learned, not for the people, with unswerving orthodoxy, judged by mediaeval standards, and repression of heresy by the inquisition. It was this movement that was to give life and vigor to the Roman revival, often, though rather incor- rectly, called the Counter-Reformation. Outside of Spain it had very little influence when Luther began his work. Indeed, the decline of the Roman Church was nowhere more evident than in the feebleness with which Protestant onslaughts were met by the contemporaries of the first quarter century of the great revolt, and the incapacity of the Popes themselves to realize the real gravity of the situation, and to put their inter- ests as great churchmen above their concerns as petty Italian princes. Though Adrian VI (1522-1523) exhibited a real, though utterly ineffective, reformatory zeal, in the Spanish sense, during his brief and unhappy pontificate, neither his predecessor, Leo X (1513-1521), nor his successor, Clement VII (1523-1534), was in any sense a religious leader, and the politi- REFORIVI AND RFA'OLUTIOX IN ITALY 423 cal ambitions of the latter contributed materially to the spread of Protestantism, Yet there were those, even in Italy, who were anxious for reform, though not for revolution. Such a group founded in Rome about 1517 the "Oratory of Divine Love." Among its leaders was Giovanni Pietro CarafTa (1476-1559), later to be Pope Paul IV (1555-1559), of distinguished Neapolitan parent- age, who had lived for a number of years in Spain, and had brought from there an admiration for the Spanish reformation, though no love for the Spanish monarchy. Another member was Jacopo Sadoleto (1477-1547) ; and in close sympathy, though not one of the Oratory, was Senator Gasparo Contarini (1483-1542) of Venice, who was still a layman. Of these, Caraffa was of unbending devotion to mediaeval dogma, while Contarini had much sympathy with Luther's doctrine of jus- tification by faith alone, though not with his rejection of the ancient hierarchy. Pope Paul III (1534-1549), more alive than his predecessors to the gravity of the situation, made Contarini, Caraffa, Sadoleto, and the English Reginald Pole (1500-1558) cardinals early in his pontificate, and appointed them, with others, a commission on the betterment of the church, which made a plain-spoken, but resultless, report in 1538.1 These men were far removed from really Protestant views. But there were a considerable number whose sympathies led them much further. In Venice they were particularly numer- ous, though they produced no real leader there. In that city Bruccioli's Italian translation of the New Testament was printed in 1530, and of the whole Bible in 1532. Ferrara's hospitality, under Duchess Renee, has already been noted in connection with Calvin (ante, p. 394). The most remarkable of these groups was that gathered in Naples about Juan Valdes, (1500?-1541), a Spaniard of high rank, employed in the ser- vice of Charles V and a man of devout. Evangelical mysticism. From his disciple, Benedetto of Mantua, came about 1540 the most popular book of this circle. The Benefits of Christ's Death. Among his adherents were Pietro Martire Vermigli (1500- 1562), whose father had been an admirer of Savonarola, himself prior of the monastery of St. Peter in NapleS;, destined to be professor of Protestant theology in Strassburg and Oxford; 1 Kidd, pp. 307-318. 424 IGNATIUS LOYOLA and Bernardino Ochino (1487-1564), vicar-general of the Capuchin order, later Protestant prebendary of Canterbury, pastor in Zurich, and ultimately a wanderer for erratic opinions. Another friend of this group was Caraffa's own nephew, Gal- eazzo Caraccioli, marquis of Vico, later to be Calvin's intimate associate in Geneva. These Italian Evangelicals were, however, unorganized and without princely support, save very cautiously in Ferrara, nor did they gain following among the common people. In Italy they were an exotic growth; and the same may be said of the very few Protestants who were to be found in Spain, Pope Paul III wavered for a time between the method of conciliation advocated by Contarini, who took part in the re- union discussions in Regensburg {ante, p. 376) as papal legate, and that of Carafi'a, who urged stern repression of doctrinal divergence, while advocating administrative and moral reform. Eventuall}- he decided for the latter, and his decision became the policy of his successors. On Caraffa's urgent appeal Paul III, on July 21, 1542, reorganized the inquisition, largely on the Spanish model, on a universal scale,^ though of course its actual establishment took place only where it had the support of friendly civil authority. Before it, the feeble beginnings of Italian Protestantism rapidly disappeared. One of the main weapons of the Catholic Counter-Reformation was thus forged. Much more important was a revival of missionary zeal which the fresh genius of Spain contributed to kindle Catholic enthusi- asm. Viewed from any standpoint, Ignatius Loyola is one of the master figures of the Reformation epoch. Inigo Lopez de Recalde was born of a noble family in northern Spain in 1491. After serving as a page at the court of Ferdinand, he became a soldier. His intrepid firmness was exhibited when Pamplona was besieged by the French in 1521, but he received there a wound that made further military service impossible. During his slow recovery he studied the lives of Christ, St. Dominic, and St. Francis. Chivalrous ideals still lingered in Spain, and he determined that he would be a knight of the Virgin. Recovered, in a measure, he journeyed to Monserrat, and hung his weapons on the Virgin's altar. Thence he went to Manresa, where, in the Dominican monastery, he began those directed visions which were afterward to grow into his Spiritual Ex- 1 Ividd, pp. 347-350. THE JESUITS 425 ercises. The year 1523 saw lilm a pilgrim in Jerusalem, but the Franciscans who were there maintaining the cross with difficulty, thought him dangerous and sent him home. Convinced that if he was to do the work he desired he must have an education, Ignatius entered a boy's class in Barcelona, and went rapidly forward to the Universities of Alcala and Salamanca. A born leader, he gathered like-minded companions with whom he practised his spiritual exercises. This aroused the suspicion of the Spanish inquisition and his life was in danger. In 1528, he entered the University of Paris, just as Calvin was leaving it. There he made no public demonstra- tion, but gathered round himself a handful of devoted friends and disciples — Pierre Lefevre, Francis Xavier, Diego Lainez, Alfonso Salmeron, Nicolas Bobadilla, and Simon Rodriguez, mostly from the Spanish peninsula. In the church of St. Mary on Montmartre, in Paris, on August 15, 1534, these com- panions took a vow to go to Jerusalem to labor for the church and their fellow men, or, if that proved impossible, to put them- selves at the disposition of the Pope. It was a little student association, the connecting bond of which was love to God and the church, as they understood it. The year 1536 saw them in Venice; but Jerusalem was barred by war, and they now determined to ask the Pope's direction. Ignatius was beginning to perceive what his society might be- come. Italy had seen many military companies in earthly service. His would be the military company of Jesus, bound by a similar strictness of obedience, and a like careful, though spiritual, exercise of arms, to fight the battle of the church against infidels and heretics. In spite of ecclesiastical opposi- tion, Paul III was induced by the favorable attitude of Con- tarini and the skill of Ignatius to authorize the company on September 27, 1540.^ The constitution of the society was as yet indefinite, save that it was to have a head to whom full obedience was due, and should labor wherever that head and the Pope should direct. In April, 1541, Ignatius was chosen the first "general" — an office which he held till his death, July 31, 1556. The constitution of the Jesuits was gradually worked out, indeed it was not completed till after Ignatius's death, though its main features were his work. At the head is a "general," 1 Kidd, pp. 335-340. 426 THE JESUITS to whom absolute obedience is due; but who, in turn, is watched by assistants appointed by the order, and can, if necessary, be deposed by it. Over each district is a "provincial," ap- pointed by the "general." Each member is admitted, after a careful novitiate, and pledges obedience to the fullest extent in all that does not involve sin. His superiors assign him to the work which they believe him best fitted to do. That that work may be better accomplished the Jesuits are bound to no fixed hours of worship or form of dress as are monks. Each member is disciplined by use of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises, — a remarkable work, in accordance with which the Jesuit is drilled in a spiritual manual of arms, by four weeks of intense contemplation of the principal facts of the life and work of Christ, and of the Christian warfare with evil, under the gui- dance of a spiritual drill-master. It was a marvellous instru- ment that Ignatius constructed, combining the individualism of the Renaissance — each man assigned to and trained for his peculiar work — with the sacrifice of will and complete obedience to the spirit and aims of the whole. It stands as the very antithesis of Protestantism. Though the Jesuit society spread rapidly in Italy, Spain, and Portugal, it was slower in gaining strong foothold in France and Germany, but by the latter half of the sixteenth century it was the advance-guard of the Counter-Reformation. Its chief agencies were preaching, the confessional, its excellent schools — not for the multitude, but for the well-born and well-to-do — and its foreign missions. Under Jesuit influence more frequent confession and communion became the rule in Catholic countries; and, to aid the confessional, the Jesuit moral practice was gradually developed, chiefly after Ignatius's death, and especially in the early part of the seventeenth cen- tury, in a fashion that has aroused the criticism not only of Protestants but of many Catholics. In estimating them aright it should be remembered that these moral treatises do not represent ideals of conduct, but the minima on which ab- solution can be given; and, also, that the Jesuit morality em- phasized the universal Latin tendency to regard sin as a series of definite acts rather than as a state. The nature of sin itself was minimized. That only is sin which is done with a clear knowledge of its sinfulness and a full consent of the will. Personal responsibility was undermined THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 427 by the doctrine of "probabilism," by which a man could choose what seemed to him the worse course if it had for it accepted authority. "Mental reservation," also, taught that men, for ends that seemed good, were not bound to give the whole truth on oath, or even a correct impression — a doctrine that more than any other produced the common Anglo-Saxon Protestant feeling that Jesuits were unscrupulous and untrustworthy. Naturally a society thus international in character, the members of which were bound to their oflBcers by constant letters and reports, speedily became a force in political life. With the establishment of the world-wide inquisition and the foundation of the Company of Jesus, the Council of Trent must be classed as an important agency of the Counter-Refor- mation. That council had a checkered history. Earnestly desired by Charles V, and reluctantly called by Paul III, it actually met in Trent in December, 1545. In March, 1547, the Italian majority transferred it to Bologna; but in May, 1551, it was back in Trent, where the Spanish minority had all along remained. On April 28, 1552, it adjourned in conse- quence of the successful Protestant uprising under Moritz of Saxony against the Emperor (ante, p. 381). Not till January, 1562, did it meet again, and it completed its work on December 4, 1563. The voting was confined to bishops and heads of orders, without division by nations, as at Constance (ante, p. 308) . The majority was therefore in Italian hands. That rep- resented the papal wish that definition of doctrine should pre- cede reform. On the other hand, the Spanish bishops, equally orthodox in belief, stood manfully for the Emperor's desire that reform should precede doctrine. It was agreed that doctrine and reform should be discussed alternately, but all decisions had to have the approval of the Pope, thus strengthening the papal supremacy in the church. No voices were more influen- tial in the council than those of the Pope's theological experts, the Jesuits Lainez, and Salmeron, and at a later stage, that of the earliest German Jesuit, Peter Kanis, and their influence steadily supported the anti-Protestant spirit. The doctrinal decrees of the Council of Trent ^ were clear and definite in their rejection of Protestant beliefs, while often indecisive regarding matters of dispute in mediaeval contro- versies. Scripture and tradition are equally sources of truth. 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 2 : 77-206. 428 REFORMS AND INCREASE OF ZEAL The church alone has the right of interpretation. Justification is skilfully defined, yet so as to leave scope for work-merit. The sacraments are the mediaeval seven and defined in the mediaeval way. The result is ably expressed, but the church had shut the door completely on all compromise or modifica- tion of medijeval doctrine. Though the reforms effected by the council were far from realizing the wishes of many in the Roman Church, they were not inconsiderable. Provision was made for the public inter- pretation of Scripture in the larger towns. Bishops were bound to preach and the parish clergy to teach plainly what is need- ful for salvation. Residence was required and pluralities restrained. Seminaries for clerical training were ordered, and better provision for the moral supervision of the clergy. Regu- lations were enacted to prevent clandestine marriages. A less praiseworthy step was the approval of an index of prohibited books, to be prepared by the Pope, following the example set by Paul IV in 1559. It resulted in 1571 in the creation by Pius V (1566-1572) of the Congregation of the Index, at Rome, to censure publications. From a Spanish theologian, influential at Trent, Melchior Cano (1525-1560), came the ablest defense of the Roman posi- tion that had yet appeared, in his De Locis Theologicls Libri XII, published three years after his death. Theology, he taught, is based on authority. The authority of Scripture rests on the sifting and approving power of the church, which determines what is Scripture and what not; but as by no means all of Christian doctrine is contained in the Scripture, tradition, handed down and sifted by the church, is another authoritative basis. The middle of the sixteenth century witnessed a change in the prime interest of the holders of the papacy. They were still Italian temporal princes, but the concerns of the church •had now assumed tlie first place. With Paul IV (Caraffa, 1555-1559) the Counter-Reformation reached the papal throne, with the result that many of the abuses of the curia were done away. Rome was a more sombre, a much more ecclesiastical, city than in the Renaissance, but the Popes were now prevailingly men of strict life, religious earnestness, and strenuous Catholicism. The result of all these influences was that by 1565 Catholic THE RO]\IAX REVIVAL 429 earnestness had been revived. A new spirit, intense in its opposition to Protestantism, mediseval in its theology, but ready to fight or to suffer for its faith, was wide-spread. Against this renewed zeal Protestantism not merely ceased to make new conquests, its hold on the Rhineland and in southern Germany was soon shaken in considerable measure. Catholicism began to hope to win back all that it had lost. This Catholic revival was also characterized by a large de- velopment of mystical piety, in which, as in so much else, Spain was the leader. The chief traits of this religious life were self- renouncing quietism — a raising of the soul in contemplation and voiceless prayer to God — till a union in divine love, or in ecstasy of inner revelation, was believe to be achieved. Often ascetic practices were thought to aid this mystic exaltation. Conspicuous in this movement were Teresa de Jesus (1515-1582) of Avila and Juan de la Cruz (1542-1591) of Ontiveros, in Spain. Francois de Sales (15G7-1G22), nominally bishop of Geneva, to whose efforts the winning for Catholicism of the portions of Savoy near Geneva was due, represented the same type of piety, and it was spread in France by his disciple, Jeanne Fran9oise Fremyot de Chantal (1572-1641). It was combined with ex- treme devotion to the church and its sacraments. It satisfied the religious longings of more earnest Catholic souls, and the church, in turn, recognized it by enrolling many of its exemplars among the saints. Catholic zeal went forth, in full measure, also, in the work of foreign missions. These were primarily the endeavor of the monastic orders, notably the Dominicans and Franciscans, with whom from its foundation the Company of Jesus eagerly shared in the labor. To the work of these orders the Chris- tianity of Southern, Central, and large parts of North America is due. They converted the Philippines. ]\Iost famous of these Roman missionaries was Ignatius's original associate, Francis Xavier (1506-1552). Appointed by Ignatius mission- ary to India, at the request of King John III of Portugal, he reached Goa in 1542 and began a career of marvellous activity. In Goa he founded a missionary college, he preached through- out southern India, in 1549 he entered Japan and began a work which had reached large dimensions, when its severe re- pression was undertaken by the native rulers in 1612. Xavier died, in 1552, just as he was entering China. His work was 430 ROMAN MISSIONS superficial, an exploration rather than a structure, but his example was a contagious influence of far-reaching force. In China the labor which Xavier had attempted was begun, in 1581, by the Jesuit Matteo Ricci (1552-1610), but his desire to be "all things to all men," led him to compromise with an- cestor-worship, a relaxation which missionaries of other Catholic orders strongly opposed. In India the converts were almost entirely from outcasts or low-caste ranks. The Jesuit, Roberto de' Nobili (1576?-1656), began a work for those of high caste in Madura, in 1606, recognizing caste distinctions and other- wise accommodating itself to Indian prejudices. Its apparent success was large, but its methods aroused criticism and ulti- mate prohibition by the papacy. Probably the most famous experiment of Jesuit missions was that in Paraguay. Their work there began in 1586. In 1610, they commenced gathering the natives into "reductions," or villages, each built on a sim- ilar plan, where the dwellers were kept at peace and taught the elements of religion and industry, but held in strict and semi- childlike dependence on the missionaries, in whose hands lay the administration of trade and agriculture. Greatly admired, the system fell with the expulsion of the Jesuits, in 1767, and has left few permanent results. The rivalries of the several orders, and the more effective supervision of missionary labors, induced Pope Gregory XV (1621-1623) to found, in 1622, the Congregatio de Propaganda Fide, by which the whole field could be surveyed and superin- tended from Rome. SECTION XII. THE STRUGGLE IN FRANCE, THE NETHERLANDS, AND ENGLAND The rivalries of France and Spain, with their political and military consequences, had made the growth of the Reforma- tion possible, and had facilitated the division of Germany be- tween Lutherans and Catholics recorded in the Peace of Augs- burg of 1555. Henry II (1547-1559) had succeeded Francis I in France, and Charles V had transferred to his son Philip II (1556-1598) the sovereignty of Spain, the Netherlands, and of the Spanish territories in Italy ; but the old rivalry continued. In war, however, Philip II at first proved more successful than his father had been, and the battles of St. Quentin in August, PROTESTANTISM IN DANGER 431 1557, and Gravelines in July, 1558, forced France to the Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis of April 2, 1559. That treaty was a reckoning point in the history of Europe. France abandoned the long struggle for Italy. Spanish leadership was evidently first in Europe, and had largely bound France to follow, or at least not to oppose, its interests. Protestantism w^as confronted by a much more politically united Catholicism than it had yet met. The political head of that Catholicism was Philip II of Spain, methodical, industrious, patient, and inflexibly deter- mined, who saw as his God-appointed task the extirpation of Protestantism, and bent every energy to its accomplishment. The next thirty years were to be the time of chief peril in the history of Protestantism. The point of highest danger was, perhaps, in the year 1559, when after the death of Henry II, in July, the crown passed to Francis II, whose wife was Mary "Queen of Scots," and by her own claim Queen of England also. Yet even Philip's ar- dent Catholicism w^as not willing to see a combination so dan- gerous to Spain as that of France, Scotland, and England under a single pair of rulers. He therefore helped Elizabeth, an action which he must afterward have regretted (aiite, p. 413). Calvin's influence had increasingly penetrated France, and French Protestants, or Huguenots, as they were known from 1557, multiplied in spite of severe persecution. By 1555 there was a congregation in Paris. Four years later the number of Huguenot Churches in France was seventy-two. That year, 1559, they were strong enough to hold their First General Synod in Paris, to adopt a strongly Calvinistic creed prepared by Antoine de la Roche Chandieu,^ and a Presbyterian consti- tution drawn from Calvin's ecclesiastical principles. Popular estimate credited them with 400,000 adherents. Besides these Huguenots of religion, most of whom were from the economically oppressed and discontented artisan classes, the party was soon strengthened by the accession of political Huguenots. The death of Henry II and the accession of Francis II left the family of Guise, uncles of Francis's Queen, all pow^erful in his court. The Guises were from Lorraine, and were looked upon by many of the French nobility as foreigners. Strenu- ously Catholic, the two brothers, Charles (1524-1574), the 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 356-382. 432 GROWTH OF THE HUGUENOTS "cardinal of Lorraine," was head of the French clergy as archbishop of Rheims, while Francis (1519-1563), duke of Guise, was the best soldier of France. Opposed to the Guise family were the family of Bourbon, of whom the chief in rank was Antoine of Vendome, titular King of Navarre, a man of weak and vacillating spirit, and his much abler brother, Louis, prince of Conde. Of the house of Chatillon, also opposed to the Guise brothers, the leader was Gaspard de Coligny, known as Admiral Coligny, a man of sterling character and devoted to Calvinism. These high nobles were moved in large part by opposition to the centralization of power in the King. They represented thus the hostility of the old feudal nobility to royal encroachment. Their interests and those of the humbler middle-class Calvinists coincided in a desire that things in France should not continue as they were. The first step toward a revolution was taken when the badly planned "Con- spiracy of Amboise " in March, 1560, failed in its attempt to capture the young King and to transfer the government to the Bourbons. Conde would have been executed had it not been for the death of Francis II on December 5, 1560. The succession of Charles IX (1560-1574), brother of the late King, brought a new party into the confused struggle. The Guises lost much of their power at court, but were re- garded still as the head of Catholic interests in France, and were in constant communication with Philip II of Spain. The cliief influence about the new sovereign, who was not yet eleven, was now that of his mother, Catherine de' Medici (1519- 1589), able and unscrupulous, determined to maintain the rights of the crown by playing off the two great noble factions of France against each other. She was aided by a statesman of broad and conciliatory views, Michel de I'Hopital (1505-1573), who be- came chancellor of France in 1560. Catherine now sought a reconciliation of the factions, released Conde from prison, per- mitted a public discussion between Catholic and Protestant theologians in Poissy, in September, 1561 — in which Beza took part — and followed it, in January, 1562, with an edict per- mitting the Huguenots to assemble for worship except in walled towns. Rather than submit, the Catholic party determined to pro- voke war. On ]\Iarch 1, 1562, the body-guard of the duke of Guise attacked a Huguenot congregation worshipping in HUGUENOT WARS. THE NETHERLANDS 433 Vassy. Three savage wars followed between the Huguenots and Catholics, 1562-1563, 1567-1568, and 1568-1570, with short truces between. Duke Francis of Guise was murdered by a Protestant assassin. Antoine, King of Navarre, and Conde died of wounds. Coligny was left the head of the Huguenot cause. On the whole, the Huguenots held their own, and jealousy of Spanish influence helped their cause, so that in August, 1570, peace was made at St. Germain-en-Laye, by which nobles were given freedom of worship, and two places for services were permitted to the Huguenot common people in each governmental division of France, while four cities were put in Huguenot control as a guarantee. The situation at this juncture was greatly complicated by the course of events in the Netherlands. The sources of un- rest in that region were even more political and economic than religious in their origin, though in the struggle religion assumed a constantly increasing prominence. The Netherlands, which had come to Philip II of Spain from his father, Charles V, in 1555, were a group of seventeen provinces, tenacious of local rights, predominantly commercial and manufacturing, and dis- posed to resent all that interfered with existing customs or disturbed trade. Lutheranism had early entered, but had been largely displaced by Anabaptism among the lowest stratum of the population, while by 1561 w^hen the Belgic Confession was drafted by Guy de Bray,^ Calvinism was winning converts among the middle classes. The nobility was as yet hardly touched, and in 1562 the total number of Protestants was reckoned at only 100,000. Charles V, though strenuously resisting the inroads of Protestantism, had largely respected Netherlandish rights and jealousies. Not so Philip II. He determined to secure politi- cal and religious uniformity there similar to that in Spain. In 1559 he appointed his sister, Margaret of Parma, regent, with an advisory committee of three, of which the leading spirit was his devoted supporter. Cardinal Granvella (1517- 1586), bishop of Arras. This committee practically usurped the power of the old councils of state, in which the high nobles had shared. The next year Philip secured from the Pope a reconstitution of the ecclesiastical geography of the Nether- lands, which had merit in that it freed the Netherlandish 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom., 3 : 383-436. 434 THE STRUGGLE IN THE NETHERLANDS bishoprics from foreign ecclesiastical supervision, but aroused jealousy, since the new prelates were Philip's nominees and had places in the Parliament, or "States General," thus greatly- strengthening Spanish influence. Philip, moreover, used every power to crush "heresy" — a course that was disliked by the middle classes, because it hurt trade and drove workmen to emigration. Nobles and merchants were, therefore, increas- ingly restive. Chief among the opponents of these changes were three emi- nent nobles, William of Nassau, Prince of Orange (1533-1584), born a Lutheran, but now, nominally at least, a Catholic, to be the hero of Dutch independence; and the Catholic counts of Egmont and Horn. They forced Granvella's dismissal in 1564. Philip now saw in them the chief hindrance to his plans. He demanded the enforcement of the decrees of the Council of Trent and a stricter punishment of heresy. A peti- tion of protest was circulated and presented to the regent on April 5, 1566 — the nickname "Beggars" given to its signers on that occasion becoming the name of the party of Netherlandish freedom. Popular excitement was intense. Protestant preach- ing was openly heard, and in August, 1556, iconoclastic riots, opposed by such men as William of Orange, wrecked hundreds of churches. To Philip these events were rebellion in politics and religion. He therefore sent the duke of Alva (1508-1582), an able Spanish general, to Brussels with a picked Spanish army and practically as governor. His arrival in August, 1567, was fol- lowed by hundreds of executions, among them those of Egmont and Horn. William of Orange escaped to Germany, and organ- ized resistance, but it was beaten down by Alva's skill. Alva, however, completed the alienation of the mercantile classes, in 1569, by introducing the heavy Spanish taxes on sales. Meanwhile William of Orange was commissioning sea-rovers, who preyed on Spanish commerce and found an uncertain refuge in English harbors, where the English Government had been driven into a more strenuous attitude of hostility to all Catholic forces, of which Philip was chief, by the bull of deposi- tion, issued against Elizabeth by Pope Pius V on February 25, 1570. In April, 1572, these sea-rovers captured Brill. The northern provinces rose. William of Orange put himself at the head of THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW 435 the movement. On July 15, the leading towns of Holland, Zea- land, Friesland, and Utrecht recognized him as Stadholder. Meanwhile, since the peace of 1570, the Huguenots and the op- ponents of Spain in France had been working for a revival of the older political policy, which made France the rival instead of the ally of Spain. Immediate assistance to the Netherlandish rebels, to be rewarded by accession of some territory to France, was planned, and none favored it more than Coligny, whose influence over Charles IX was now great. To emphasize the reconciliation of parties in France, a marriage was arranged between Henry of Navarre, the Protestant son of the late Antoine of Bourbon, and Charles IX's sister. Marguerite of Valois. For the wedding, on August 18, 1572, Huguenot and Catholic nobles and their followers gathered in the fanatically Catholic city of Paris, Catherine de' Medici had come to look with fear on the in- fluence now exerted by Coligny over her son, the King. Whether the cause was jealousy regarding her own influence, or fear that the war into which Coligny was leading the King would be disastrous to the French crown, is uncertain. Ap- parently all that she wanted at first was Coligny 's removal by murder. In this she had the hearty sympathy of Henry, duke of Guise (1550-1588), the son of the murdered Francis, who wrongly charged Coligny with responsibility for his father's death. On August 22 an attempt on Coligny's life failed, and its ill-success carried panic to Catherine. The Huguenots had been alienated without being deprived of their leader. She and her supporters now suddenly decided on a general massacre, for which the Guise party and the fanatical people of Paris furnished abundant means. On August 24, St. Bartholomew's day, the bloody work began. Cohgny was killed, and with him a number of victims that has been most variously estimated, reaching not improbably 8,000 in Paris, and several times that number in the whole of France. Henry of Navarre saved his life by abjuring Protestantism, The news was hailed with rejoicing in Madrid and in Rome, and rightly, if its moral enormity could be overlooked. It had saved the Catholic cause from great peril. The policy of France was reversed. Plans for interference in the Nether- lands were at an end. The desperate struggle for Nether- landish freedom was the consequence. Yet the Catholics did 43G THE LEAGUE. WAR IN THE NETHERLANDS not gain in France what they hoped. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh Huguenot Wars, 1573, 1574-1576, 1577, 1580, ran their course of destruction and misery, but the Huguenots were not crushed. Charles IX died in 1574 and was succeeded as King by his vicious brother, Henry III (1574-1589). A division among the CathoHcs themselves was developing. There had long been a considerable element which, while Catholic in religion, felt that the protracted wars were ruining the land and permitting foreign, especially Spanish, intrigue. They believed that some basis of peace with the Huguenots should be reached, and were known as the Politiques. On the other hand, those who put religion first and were willing to see France become a mere appanage of Spain, if thereby Catholi- cism could triumph, had been for some time organizing associa- tions in various parts of France to maintain the Roman Church. In 1576 these were developed into a general "League," led by Henry of Guise and supported by Spain and the Pope. Its existence drove the Politiques more and more into alliance with the Huguenots, who found their political head in Henry of Navarre, he having reasserted his Protestant faith in 1576. The massacre of St. Bartholomew shattered the hopes of William of Orange for the speedy expulsion of Spain from the Netherlands. The two years following were those of intens- est struggle, of which William was the soul. Alva's generalship seemed at first irresistible. Mons, IMechlin, Zutphen, Naarden, and Haarlem fell before the Spanish forces; but Alkmaar they failed to take, in October, 1573. Alva was recalled at his own request, and was succeeded, in November, by Luis de Requesens (1525?-1576), under whom the Spanish policy was substantially unchanged. But October, 1574, saw the successful end of the defense of Leyden, and it was evident that the northern Nether- lands could not be conquered by the forces then available for Spain. In 1576 Requesens died, and the Spanish troops sacked Antwerp, an event which roused the southern provinces to resistance. The new Spanish commander, John of Austria (1545-1578), was able to effect little. Elizabeth aided the revolted Netherlands from 1576. In September, 1577, William was able to make a triumphal entry into Brussels. John of Austria died, a disappointed man, in October, 1578; but he was succeeded by his nephew, Alexander Farnese, duke of Parma (1545-1592), a general and a statesman of commanding talents. PROTESTANTISM IN THE NETHERLANDS 437 Matters went better for the Spanish cause. Parma played on the jealousies of the Catholic south and the Calvinist north. The former united in the League of Arras for the protection of Catholicism in January, 1579; the latter replied the same month by the Union of Utrecht. Protestants left the south for the north by the thousands, many Catholics went soutliward. Ultimately the ten southern provinces were saved by Parma for Spain, and modern Belgium is his monument. The seven northern states declared their independence of Spain in 1581, and though much remained to be done before all dangers were passed, their freedom was so strongly intrenched that not even the murder of William of Orange, on July 10, 1584, by a fanatic encouraged by Parma, could overthrow it. During this struggle the Calvinistic churches of the Nether- lands had been shaping. The First National Synod had been held outside of Netherlandish territory, in Emden, in 1571. William of Orange had accepted Calvinism two years later. In 1575 a university was established in Leyden, soon to be famed for its learning in theology and the sciences. The Re- formed Church of the Netherlands was, like the Huguenot Church of France, Presbyterian in constitution, though its degree of independence of state control was long a matter of controversy, and varied with the different provinces. The severity of the struggle for national independence, the wish to secure the aid of all who were friendly to it, and the mer- cantile spirit led the Protestant Netherlands to a larger degree of toleration than elsewhere at the time in Christendom. Catholics were not, indeed, allowed public worship or political office, but they had right of residence and employment. To the Anabaptists William of Orange granted in 1577 the first pro- tection in rights of worship that they anywhere received. This degree of toleration, partial as it was, soon made the Nether- lands a refuge for the religiously oppressed and added to the strength of the nation. Yet the death of their wise leader, William of Orange, brought great peril to the revolted Netherlands. They did not feel able to stand alone, and offered their sovereignty first to Henry III of France and then to Elizabeth of England. Both refused; but Elizabeth sent her favorite, the earl of Leicester, in 1585, with a small army. He now became governor-general, but his rule was a failure^ and he returned to England in 1587. It 43S ELIZABETH AND ENGLISH CATHOLICS looked as if Parma's skilful generalship might reduce the rebellious provinces; but, fortunately, Philip demanded his attention for a larger enterprise. The Spanish King had de- termined on nothing less than the conquest of England. At the beginning of her reign Philip had aided Elizabeth for political reasons {ante, p. 413) but those reasons soon ceased to apply, and Philip became her enemy, seeing in Elizabeth the head of that Protestantism that it was his chief desire to over- throw. The early part of Elizabeth's reign had been surpris- ingly free from actual trouble from her Catholic subjects. IMary "Queen of Scots" was the heir to the throne, however, and a constant centre of conspiracy. In 1569 a Catholic re- bellion broke out in the north of England, aided by Spanish encouragement. It was put down. In 1570 there followed the papal bull declaring Elizabeth excommunicate and deposed. In 1571, a wide-spread plot — that of Ridolfi — aiming at Eliza- beth's assassination was uncovered. Elizabeth was saved by the new turn of French affairs just before the massacre of St. Bartholomew {ante, p. 435) and the outbreak of the Nether- lands rebellion. Parliament answered by making attacks on Elizabeth's person, orthodoxy, or title to the throne high trea- son. For the immediate present, however, England had com- parative peace. During Elizabeth's early years the English Catholics had been left by Rome and their fellow believers on the Continent with surprisingly little spiritual aid or leadership. To remedy this situation, William Allen (1532-1594), an able English exile who became a cardinal in 1587, established a seminary in Douai, in 1568, for training missionary priests for England. His students were soon flocking to England. Their work was al- most wholly spiritual, but was looked upon with great hostility by the English authorities. The situation was intensified when, in 1580, the Jesuits began a mission under the leadership of Robert Parsons (1546-1610) and Edmund Campion (1540- 1581). Campion was seized and executed, though he seems to have intended no political movement. Not so Parsons. He escaped to the Continent, won Allen for his plans, and began a course of intrigue to bring about a Spanish invasion of Eng- land, a Catholic rising there, and the death or dethronement of Elizabeth. His work was most unfortunate for his fellow Catho- lics. Most of the priests laboring in England are now known THE SPANISH ARMADA 439 to have been free of traitorous designs; but it was not so under- stood, and the EngUsh authorities looked upon them all as public enemies, and executed such as its spies could discover. Their work preserved a Roman Church in England, but it was carried on at frightful cost. Elizabeth now sent an army to the Netherlands, in 1585 {ante, p. 437), while she encouraged a semipiratical expedition under Sir Francis Drake, the same year, which burned and plundered Spanish settlements on the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico. In 1586, a new scheme was hatched against Elizabeth's life — the Babington Plot — in which English spies discovered that Mary "Queen of Scots" was personally involved. As a con- sequence, she was executed, on February 8, 1587, after a good deal of wavering on the part of Elizabeth. Philip now deter- mined on an invasion of England. Its conquest would estab- lish Catholicism and his own mastery there, and make hopeful the reduction of the rebellious Netherlands. For the work he would collect a great fleet which could hold the North Sea, while Parma brought over his seasoned soldiers from the Netherlands. After infinite trouble, the "Great Armada" got away from Spain on July 12, 1588. The enterprise had appealed to the religious zeal of the nation and men of dis- tinction in unusual numbers had enlisted for it. In the estimate of Europe generally it was believed invincible; but, in reality, it was badly equipped and the sailors inefficient. Moreover, the battle in which it was about to engage was a contest be- tween old and new naval tactics. The Spanish plan of battle was that of grappling and boarding. Their guns were light and few, their vessels slow, though large. England had developed swifter ships, armed with far heavier guns, able to avoid grap- pling, and to punish the unwieldy Spaniards frightfully. On July 21 the battle was joined off Plymouth. Then followed a week of running fight up the Channel, culminating in a great battle off Gravelines on the 28th. The Spanish fleet, hopelessly defeated, fled north, to escape home around Scotland and Ire- land. Any crossing by Parma was impossible. While it is a legend that the Armada was defeated by storms, it really fell before the English gunnery and seamanship, though a week later, on its retreat storms completed its wreck. England was the rock on which Philip's plans of a victorious Catholicism had shattered, and they had shattered for a cause which he could 440 THE LATER HUGUENOT STRUGGLES scarcely have understood. In the contest, instead of the Catho- lic rising which he had anticipated in England, and which men like Allen and Parsons had predicted, Catholics and Protes- tants had stood shoulder to shoulder as Englishmen against Spain. While Philip's larger hopes were thus crushed in 1588, he held as tenaciously as ever to the plan of uprooting Protestant- ism in France. The death of Henry Hi's brother, the duke of Anjou, in 1584, left the Huguenot Henry Bourbon of Navarre prospective heir to the throne. To prevent this succession, Philip and the League entered into a treaty, in January, 1585, by which the crown should go to Henry of Navarre's uncle, Charles, Cardinal Bourbon, on Henry Hi's death. In July, 1585, Henry III was forced by the League to withdraw all rights from the Huguenots, and in September a bull of Sixtus V (1585-1590) declared Henry of Navarre incapable of succeed- ing to the throne. The eighth Huguenot War was the result — that known as the " War of the Three Henrys," from Henry HI, Henry of Guise, the head of the League, and Henry of Navarre. Paris was entirely devoted to Henry of Guise. On May 12, 1588, its citizens compelled Henry III to leave the city. The weak King saw no way to resist the demands of the League and its imperious head and, on December 23, had Henry of Guise treacherously murdered. Thirteen days later Catherine de' Medici closed her stormy life. Henry of Guise was succeeded in the leadership of the League by his brother Charles, duke of Mayenne. Henry III now made terms with Henry of Navarre, and the two were jointly laying siege to Paris, when Henry III was murdered by a fanatic monk, dying on August 2, 1589. But Henry of Navarre, or as he now became, Henry IV of France (1589-1610), was still far from secure on his new throne. A brilliant victory at Ivry, in March, 1590, defeated the League, but Spanish troops under Parma's able generalship prevented his capture of Paris that year, and of Rouen in 1592. Not till after the death of Parma, on December 3, of the year last named, was Henry IV really master. And now, for purely political reasons, Henry IV declared himself a Catholic, being received into the Roman Church on July 25, 1593, though terms were not concluded with the Pope till more than two years later. However to be criti- cised morally — and Henry's life, whether as a Protestant or as THE HUGUENOTS 441 a Catholic, showed that religious principles had little influence over his conduct — the step was wise. It gave peace to the dis- tracted land. It pleased the vast majority of his subjects. Nor did Henry forget his old associates. In April, 1598, the Edict of Nantes was issued, by which the Huguenots were ad- mitted to all public office, public worship was permitted where- ever it had existed in 1597, save in Paris, Rheims, Toulouse, Lyons, and Dijon, and children of Huguenots could not be forced to receive Catholic training. Certain fortified towns were placed in Huguenot hands as guarantees. The same year (1598), Philip II died, on September 13, convinced to the end that what he had done was for the service of God, but having failed in his great life effort to overthrow Protestantism. The Huguenot Churches now entered on their most prosper- ous period. Their organization was completed, and their schools at Sedan, Saumur, Montauban, Nimes, and elsewhere flourished. They were a political corporation within the state. As such, they were opposed by the centralizing policy of Riche- lieu, Louis XIII's great minister. In 1628, Rochelle was taken from them, and their political semi-independence ended. By the Edict of Nimes, in 1629, their religious privileges were pre- served, but they suft'ered increasing attack from Jesuit and other Catholic influences as the century went on, till the revoca- tion of the Edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV, in 1685, reduced them to a persecuted, martyr church, to be proscribed till the eve of the French Revolution, and drove thousands of their numbers into exile, to the lasting gain of England, Holland, Prussia, and America. SECTION XIII. GERMAN CONTROVERSIES AND THE THIRTY YEARS* WAR It was the misfortune of Lutheranism that it had no other bond of union between its representatives in its several terri- tories than agreement in "pure doctrine," and that differences in apprehension were regarded as incompatible with Christian fellowship. The original Lutheran conception of a faith which constitutes a new personal relationship between God and the believing soul tended to shade off into a belief which, as ISIe- lanchthon once defined it, is "an assent by which you accept 442 INTERNAL CONFLICTS OF LUTHERANISM all articles of the faith." The result was a new Protestant scholasticism. Melanchthon, influenced by humanistic thought, gradually moved from his original agreement with Luther to some em- phases diflFerent from those of his greater colleague. By 1527 he had lost sympathy with Luther's denial of human freedom and had reached the conclusion that salvation is only possible through the co-operant action of the will of man — a view to which the name "synergism" is usually given. By 1535 he was emphasizing good works, not as the price of salvation, but as its indispensable evidence. Regarding the Lord's Supper he came to feel that Luther had overemphasized Christ's physical presence and, without quite reaching Calvin's position (ante, p. 394), to hold that Christ is given "not in the bread, but with the bread," that is, to lay stress on the spiritual rather than the physical reception. These differences never made a breach with Luther, partly because of Luther's generous affection for his younger friend, and partly because of Melanchthon's cau- tion in their expression, though they made Melanchthon un- comfortable at times in Luther's presence during that reformer's later years. They were to cause trouble enough in the Lutheran communions. One chief cause of bad feeling was Melanchthon's reluctant consent to the Leipzig Interim, in 1548. To Melanchthon many Roman practices then reintroduced were "non-essen- tials." To Matthias Flacius Illyricus and Nikolaus von Ams- dorf, in the security of Magdeburg, nothing could be "non- essential" in such a time {ante, p. 380). They attacked Melanchthon bitterly, and perhaps he deserved some of their blame. This strain was soon increased by the feeling of the princes of the old deprived Saxon electoral line that Melanch- thon by remaining in Wittenberg, which now belonged to their successful despoiler, Moritz, was guilty of desertion of a family which had faithfully supported him; and they magnified the school in Jena, making it a university in 1558, and appointing Flacius to one of its professorships. Other theological disputes arose. Andreas Osiander (1498- 1552) roused the opposition of all other Lutheran parties by declaring, with Paul, that the sinner receives actual righteous- ness from the indwelling Christ, and is not simply declared righteous. Georg Major (1502-1574) affirmed, in essential GERMAN PROTESTANTISM DIVIDED 443 agreement with Melanchthon, the necessity of good works as evidences of salvation. In 1552 he was bitterly assailed by Amsdorf, w^ho went so far as to assert that good works are a hindrance to the Christian life. The same year saw a fierce attack on Melanchthon's doctrine of the Lord's Supper by Joachim Westphal (1510?-1574), as cr^^Dto-Calvinism, or Cal- vinism surreptitiously introduced. It is not surprising that shortly before his death, which occurred on April 19, 1560, Melanchthon gave as a reason for his willingness to depart, that he might escape "the rage of the theologians." The Protestant situation in Germany was soon after further turmoiled by the victorious advance of Calvinism into the southwest. Frederick III (1559-1576), the excellent Elector Palatine, was led by studies of the discussions regarding the Lord's Supper to adopt the Calvinist position. For his terri- tories the young theologians, Kaspar Olevianus (1536-1587), and Zacharias Ursinus (1534-1583) prepared the remarkable Heidelberg Catechism in 1562 — the most sweet-spirited and experiential of the expositions of Calvinism.^ It was adopted by the Elector in 1563. But Calvinism had no protection under the Peace of Augsburg, of 1555, and not only Catholics but Lutherans were soon protesting against its toleration. . The disputes in Lutheranism continued with great inten- sity. In 1573, Elector August of Saxony (1553-1586), having assumed guardianship over the young princes of ducal Saxony, where the foes of Melanchthon were supreme, drove out their more radical representatives. Thus far electoral Saxony, with its Universities of Wittenberg and Leipzig, had followed the Melanchthonian or "Philippist" tradition. Now, in 1574, the same Elector August, influenced by his wife, and by an anony- mous volume, believed he had discovered a heretofore unsus- pected Calvinist propaganda regarding the Lord's Supper, in his own dominions. He had some of his principal theologians imprisoned, and one even put to torture. "Philippism" was vigorously repressed. Yet this struggle gave rise, in 1577, to the last great Lutheran creed — the Formula of Concord.^ Prepared by a number of theologians, of whom Jakob Andreae (1528-1590) of Tubingen, Martin Chemnitz (1522-1586) of Brunswick, and Nikolaus 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 307-355. 2 Ibid., 3 : 93-180. 444 LUTHERAN ORTHODOXY Selnecker (1530-1592) of Leipzig were chief, it was put forth, after infinite negotiation, in 1580, on the fiftieth anniversary of the Augsburg Confession, with the approving signatures of fifty-one princes, thirty-five cities, and between eight and nine thousand ministers. A number of Lutheran princes and cities refused their approval ; but it undoubtedly represented the de- cided majority of Lutheran Germany. Not as extreme as Flacius and Amsdorf, it represents the stricter Lutheran in- terpretation. It is minute, technical, and scholastic in marked contrast to the freshness of the Augsburg Confession half a century before. The period of Lutheran high orthodoxy had begun, which was to have its classic exposition in 1622, through the Loci Theologici of Johann Gerhard (1582-1637) of Jena. Its scholasticism was as complete as any in the Middle Ages. Under this repression, the Philippists turned increasingly to Calvinism, and Calvinism made larger inroads in Germany. To the Palatinate, Nassau was added in 1577, Bremen b}^ 1581, Anhalt in 1597, and part of Hesse in the same period. The electoral house of Brandenburg, from which the present Ger- man imperial line is descended, became Calvinist in 1613, though most of the inhabitants of Brandenburg remained Lutheran. This transformation was often accompanied by the retention of the Augsburg Confession. Yet though these German "Reformed" churches became Calvinist in doctrine and worship, Calvin's characteristic discipline found little foothold among them. Protestantism in Germany reached its flood-tide of territorial advance about 1566. From that time it began to ebb. The revived Catholicism of the Counter-Reformation became in- creasingly aggressive, led by the Jesuits and supported by ear- nest Catholic princes like the dukes of Bavaria. Divided Prot- estantism could not offer united resistance. In Bavaria, Duke Albert V (1550-1579) vigorously applied the principle cujus regio, eju^ religio, to crush his Protestant nobility and people. The abbot of Fulda similarly attempted the repression of Protestantism in his territories in 1572. Successfully opposed for a time, he effected his task in 1602. Similar Catholic res- torations were effected in the Protestantized territories be- longing to the archbishoprics of Mainz and Trier. Under Jesuit leadership similar Catholic advances were made in other bishoprics^ the inhabitants of which had embraced Evangelical PARTIES IN GERMANY 445 views. The archbishop of Cologne, Gebhard Truchsess, one of the seven Electors, proposed to marry, in 1582, and em- braced Protestantism. Little help came to him. He was forced from his strategically situated see, and the territory fully restored to Catholicism. In Austria and Bohemia the situation became steadily more unfavorable for Protestantism ; and there as well as elsewhere in the empire the Jesuit propa- ganda gained many individual converts. It was aggressive and confident of ultimate victory. The situation between Protestants and Catholics was constantly strained. An event of the years 1606-1607 markedly increased this bitterness. The city of Donauworth was overwhelmingly Protestant, yet Catholic monasteries had been there allowed. A Catholic procession of 1606 was stoned. On imperial com- mand, Maximilian, the able Catholic duke of Bavaria (1597- 1651) occupied the city and began a repression of its Evangelical worship. At the Reichstag of 1608 the Catholics demanded the restitution of all ecclesiastical property confiscated since 1555. For this claim they had the strict letter of the law in the Peace of Augsburg ; but many of these districts had become, in the two generations that had elapsed, solidly Protestant in population. Under these circumstances a number of Protestant princes formed a defensive "Union" on May 4, 1608, headed by the Calvinist Elector Frederick IV of the Palatinate. To it Catho- lic princes, led by Maximilian of Bavaria, opposed a "League," on July 10, 1609. The strong Lutheran states of northern Germany were unwilling to join the "Union," nor was the Emperor in the "League." Had Henry IV of France lived, war would probably have broken out at this time; but his assassination in 1610 and the uncertainty of the imperial suc- cession in Germany delayed it for a time. Besides the bitter disputes between Catholics and Lutherans, the condition of Germany was, in many ways, one of unrest. Business was bad. The debased coinage caused great suffering, the country was growing impoverished. The enforcement of unity of belief in Protestant and Catholic territories alike was damaging to the intellectual life of the people; while the witchcraft delusion which cost thousands of lives, and was equally entertained by Catholics and Protestants, was at its worst between 1580 and 1620. 446 THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR The actual outbreak of the Thirty Years' War came from Bohemia. That then largely Protestant land had wrung from its King, the Emperor Rudolf II (1576-1612), in 1609, a char- ter — the Majestdtsbrief — granting a high degree of toleration. Rudolf was succeeded, both as Emperor and King, by his feeble brother Matthias (King, 1611-1619; Emperor, 1612- 1619), but he was childless, and in 1617 his cousin, Ferdinand of Styria, a strenuous representative of the Counter-Reforma- tion, succeeded in securing recognition as Matthias's successor from the Bohemian estates. Catholic influences were aug- mented, and in May, 1618, a party of disaffected Protestants flung the two Catholic regents representing the absent Mat- thias from a high window in Prague. This act put Bohemia into rebellion and began the war. Its commencement was favorable for the Bohemian msurgents, and in 1619, after the death of Matthias, they elected the Calvinist, Frederick V (1610-1632), Elector Palatine, their King. The same week Ferdinand of Styria was chosen Emperor as Ferdinand II (1619-1637). Frederick found little support outside of Bohemia, and now Maximilian of Bavaria and a Spanish force from the Nether- lands came to Ferdinand's assistance. Under the command of a Walloon general, Jan Tzerklas, Baron Tilly (1559-1632), this Catholic combination overwhelmed the Bohemian forces, near Prague, on November 8, 1620. Frederick fled the land. The Majestdtsbrief was annulled, the property of Bohemian Protestants largely confiscated, to the great financial advantage of the Jesuits, and the Counter-Reformation enforced with a high hand in Bohemia, Moravia, and Austria. Among those enriched by the acquisition of confiscated property was one destined to play a great part in the further history of the war, Albrecht von Wallenstein (1583-1634). The "Union" was dissolved. A similar repression of Protestantism now took place in Austria. Meanwhile Spanish troops, under Spinola, had invaded the Palatinate in 1620, and thither Tilly and the army of the "League" soon followed. The land was conquered, Catholi- cism enforced, and Frederick's electoral title with a good share of the Palatinate transferred to Maximilian of Bavaria in 1623. Northwestern Germany, where many bishoprics had become Protestant possessions since the Peace of Augsburg, was now WALLENSTEIN 447 threatened with war, and the disasters to Protestantism which had already happened aroused Protestant foreign powers. Nothing effective was done, however, except by Christian IV of Denmark, to whom England and the Protestant Netherlands sent some slight aid. To the Emperor Ferdinand the enmity of the Danish King seemed formidable, and he therefore turned to Wallenstein to raise a new army as imperial commander-in- chief. This remarkable adventurer, born a Protestant, was nominally a Catholic, and now the richest noble of Bohemia. A natural leader of men, he raised an army in which he asked no questions of race or creed, but simply of capacity to fight, and loyalty to himself. He soon had a force of great efficiency. On April 25, 1626, Wallenstein defeated the Protestant army under Ernst of Mansfeld, at the Dessau bridge over the Elbe, following the beaten forces to Hungary, whither they retreated in the vain hope of making effective stand in conjunction with the Emperor's enemy, Bethlen Gabor, prince of Transylvania. On August 27, 1626, Christian IV of Denmark was beaten by Tilly and the army of the " League " at Lutter. These successes were followed up by the Catholics in 1627 and 1628. Han- over, Brunswick, and Silesia were conquered, then Holstein, Schleswig, Pomerania, and Mecklenburg. Wallenstein found it impossible to capture the Baltic seaport of Stralsund, which was aided by the Swedes, and thought it wise to make peace before the able Swedish King, Gustavus Adolphus (1611-1632), might interfere. Accordingly, Christian IV was allowed, by a treaty of May, 1629, to keep his territories on condition of no further share in German politics. The Catholics had determined to reap the fruits of their great victories. On March 6, 1629, an imperial "Edict of Restitution" ordered the restoration to Catholic possession of all ecclesiastical property which had come into Protestant hands since 1552, the expulsion of Protestants from territories ruled by Catholics, and no recognition of any Protestants save Lu- therans, thus depriving the Calvinists of any rights whatever. The events of the next few years prevented its full execution, but five bishoprics, a hundred monasteries, and hundreds of parish churches were, for a time, thus transferred. Many more would have been had Catholic success continued, and had not the Catholics themselves quarrelled over the spoils. These disputes, and the jealousy of the "League," headed by Maxi- 448 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS miliar! of Bavaria, by reason of the great increase in imperial power which Wallenstein had effected, now led to a success- ful demand by the "League" that Wallenstein be dismissed. In September, 1630, the Emperor was compelled to part with his able general. Even before Wallenstein's dismissal an event of prime im- portance had occurred, though its consequences were not im- mediately apparent. Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden with a small army had landed on the German coast on June 26, 1630. Two motives induced his interference in the war. He came undoubtedly as a champion of the Protestant faith; but he also desired to make the Baltic a Swedish lake, and he saw in the imperial attacks on the German Baltic seaports an imme- diate danger to his own kingdom. Should they be held by a hostile power, Sweden would be in great peril. Gustavus soon succeeded in driving the imperial forces out of Pomerania ; but he moved slowly, since he had no adequate allies. In January, 1631, however, he entered into a treaty with France, then under the masterful leadership of Louis XIII's great min- ister, Armand du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu (1585-1642), by which considerable financial subsidies were granted. Riche- lieu had resumed the historic hostility of France to the Habs- burgs of Spain and Austria, and the ancient French policy of aiding their enemies for the political advantage of the French monarchy, even if those enemies were Protestants. Gus- tavus' s next important and difficult work was to secure the alliance of Brandenburg, which, though Protestant, had been imperialist, and of Saxony, which had been neutral. On May 20, 1631, Tilly captured Magdeburg, the inhabitants being treated w'ith brutal ferocity. This loss of a great Protestant stronghold was followed by an alliance in June between Gustavus and the Elector of Bran- denburg, and in August Saxony threw off its neutrality and joined the Swedes. On September 17, 1631, Gustavus, with little real help from the Saxons, won a great victory over Tilly at Breitenfeld, close by Leipzig. The imperial power in northern Germany crumbled, and the Swedish King marched victoriously to the Rhine, establishing himself in Mainz, while the Saxons took Prague. In his extremity, the Emperor called on Wallenstein once more to raise an army, and in April, 1632, that general was at the head of a redoubtable force. DEATHS OF GUSTAVUS AND WALLENSTEIN 449 Gustavus now marched against Maximilian of Bavaria, de- feating Tilly in a battle near Donauworth, in which that com- mander was mortally wounded. Munich, the Bavarian capital, had to surrender to the Swedish King. Meanwhile Wallen- stein had driven the Saxons out of Prague, and marched to meet Gustavus. For some weeks the two armies faced each other near Nuremberg, but the fighting was indecisive, and Wallenstein marched northward to crush Saxony. Gustavus followed him, and defeated him at Liitzen, near Leipzig, on November 16, 1632, in a fierce battle in which Gustavus was slain. His work was enduring. He had made the Edict of Restitution a dead letter in northern Germany, and his memory, is deservedly cherished by German Protestantism. The control of Swedish affairs passed to the able chancellor,' Axel Oxenstjerna, though the most capable Protestant general was now Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar (1604-1639). In Novem- ber, 1633, Bernhard captured the important south German city of Regensburg, and opened the line of the Danube to Protestant advance. Meanwhile Wallenstein had remained comparatively inactive in Bohemia, partly jealous of large Spanish forces which had been sent to southern Germany, and partly intriguing with Saxony, Sweden, and France. Just what he had in mind is uncertain, but the most probable supposition is that he aimed to secure for himself the crown of Bohemia. His failure to relieve Regensburg was the last straw in rousing the suspicious hostility of the Emperor, and on February 25, 1634, he was murdered by his own soldiers as a result of imperial intrigue. On September 5 and 6, 1634, Bernhard and the Swedish troops were badly defeated at Nordlingen, by combined imperial and Spanish forces. In its way the battle was as decisive as Breitenfeld nearly three years before. That had shown that northern Germany could not be held by the Catholics; this that southern Germany could not be conquered by the Protes- tants. The war ought now to have ended; on June 15, 1635, peace was made at Prague between the Emperor and Saxony. November 12, 1627, was taken as the normal date. All eccle- siastical properties should remain for forty years in the hands of those who then held them, and their ultimate fate should be decided by a court composed equally of Catholic and Protestant judges. No mention was made of privileges for Calvinists. 450 THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA To this peace most of Protestant Germany agreed in the next few weeks. Yet no peace was to be had for the wretched land. For thirteen years more the war continued as savagely as ever. Its original aims were practically lost, and it became a struggle, fought out on German soil with the aid of German parties, for the aggrandizement of Spain, France, and Sweden, in which France gained most. Ferdinand II was succeeded by his son, Ferdinand III (1637-1657), but the change brought no real alteration of the situation. Germany lacked men of real leader- ship, the only conspicuous exception being Frederick William the "Great Elector" (1640-1688) of Brandenburg, but though he succeeded in enlarging his territorial possessions, he was too young largely to affect the course of the war. At last, after infinite negotiation, the "Peace of Westphalia" was made on October 27, 1648. Sweden was firmly settled on the German shore of the Baltic. Most of Alsace went to France. The long-existing independence of Switzerland was formally acknowledged. Brandenburg received the archbishopric of Magdeburg and the bishoprics of Halberstadt and Minden as compensation for surrender of its claims on part of Pomerania to the Swedes, Maximilian of Bavaria kept his title of Elector and part of the Palatinate, while the rest of the Palatinate was restored to Karl Ludwig, son of the unfortunate Frederick V, for whom a new electoral title was created. More important was the religious settlement. Here the ability of the "Great Elector" secured the inclusion of the Calvinists who, with the Lutherans, were regarded as one party as over against the Catholics. German Calvinists at last secured full rights. The Edict of Restitution was fully abandoned and the year 1624 taken as the norm. Whatever ecclesiastical property was then in Catholic or Protestant hands should so remain. While the power of a lay sovereign to determine the religion of his subjects still remained, it was modified by a provision that where divided religious worship had existed in a territory in 1624, each party could continue it in the same proportion as then existed. Between Lutherans and Calvinists it was agreed that the norm should be the date of the Peace, and that a change of the lay ruler to one or the other form of Protestantism there- after should not affect his subjects. On the other hand, by the insistence of the Emperor, no privileges were accorded to Protestants in Austria or Bohemia. RESULTS OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR 451 Neither side liked the Peace. The Pope denounced it. But all were tired of the war, and the Peace had the great merit of drawing the lines between Catholicism and Protestant- ism roughly, but approximately, where they really stood. As such, it proved essentially permanent, and with it the period of the Reformation on the Continent may be considered closed. To Germany the Thirty Years' War was an unmitigated and frightful evil. The land had been ploughed from end to end for a generation by lawless and plundering armies. Population had fallen from sixteen millions to less than six. Fields were waste. Commerce and manufacturing destroyed. Above all, intellectual life had stagnated, morals had been roughened and corrupted, and religion grievously maimed. A century after its close the devastating consequences had not been made good. Little evidence of spiritual life was manifested in this frightful time of war; yet to it, in large part, and reflecting the trust of heartfelt piety in its stress, belongs the work of perhaps the greatest of Lutheran hymn-writers, Paul Gerhardt (1607- 1676). In its earlier years, also, lie the chief activities of that strange and deep Protestant mystic, Jakob Bohme (1575-1624), of Gcrlitz. SECTION XIV. SOCINIANISM The Reformation age exhibited a number of departures from traditional orthodoxy regarding the person and work of Christ. Though not characteristic of Anabaptists, in general, their earliest manifestation is to be found among such Anabaptists as Denk and Haetzer {ante, p. 369). Servetus's radical opinions and tragic fate have already been noted {ante, p. 399), but this ingenious thinker founded no school of disciples. The chief anti-Trinitarians of the age came from Italy, where re- formed opinions took often radical form, and where the scepti- cism of the Renaissance and the criticism of the later schoolmen often blended with Anabaptist readiness to see in the meaning of Scripture other than the traditional interpretations. Such Italian radicals were Matteo Gribaldi (?-1564), once professor of law in Padua, whom Calvin drove from Geneva in 1559; and Giovanni Valentino Gentile (1520?-1566), who came to Geneva about 1557, fled from punishment for his views there, and, after a wandering career, was beheaded in Bern in 1566. Of greater importance was Giorgio Biandrata (1515?-1588?), 452 SOCINIANISM who spent a year in Geneva, but found it wise to leave for Poland in 1558, serving as physician to the ruling families of that land and of Transylvania, helping to found a Unitarian communion in the latter region, which ultimately obtained legal standing. Those who were destined to give their name to the movement were the two Sozzinis, uncle and nephew. Lelio Sozzini (Soci- nus, 1525-1562) was of a prominent Sienese family and a student of law. His opinions were at first Evangelical, and he lived for a year, 1550-1551, in Wittenberg, enjoying Melanchthon's friend- ship. Among other Swiss cities, he was well received in Geneva, and settled in Zurich, where he died. Servetus's execution turned his attention to the problem of the Trinity, but his speculations were not made public in his lifetime. His more distinguished nephew Fausto (1539-1604) was in Lyons in 1561 and Geneva in 1562. Although already a radical and influenced, though less than has often been represented, by his uncle's notes and papers, Fausto conformed outwardly to the Roman Church and lived from 1563 to 1575 in Italy. Thence he removed to Basel, till he went to Transylvania, in 1578, at the instance of Biandrata. The next year saw him in Poland, where he lived till his death in 1604. Thanks to the labors of Fausto Sozzini and others in Poland the party gained considerable foothold, and expressed its belief effectively in the Racovian Catechism, on which Fausto had labored, published in 1605, in Rakow, the city from which it took its name and in which these "Polish Brethren" had their headquarters. The catechism is a remarkable combination of rationalistic reasoning and a hard supernaturalism. The basis of truth is the Scriptures, but confidence in the New Testa- ment is based primarily on the miracles by which its promulga- tion was accompanied and especially by the crowning miracle of the resurrection. The New Testament, thus supernaturally attested, guarantees the Old Testament. The purpose of both is to show to man's understanding the path to eternal life. Though there may be in them matters above reason, there is nothing of value contrary to reason. The only faith that they demand is belief that God exists and is a recompenser and a judge. ]\Ian is by nature mortal and could not find the way to eternal life of himself. Hence God gave him the Scripture and the life and example of Christ. Christ was a man, but one SOCINIANISM , ^453 who lived a life of peculiar and exemplary obedience, filled with' divine wisdom, and was therefore rewarded with a resurrection and a kind of delegated divinity, so that He is now a hearer of prayer. The Christian life consists in joy in God, prayer and thanksgiving, renunciation of the world, humility and patient endurance. Its consequences are forgiveness of sins and eter- nal life. Baptism and the Lord's Supper are to be retained as commanded by Christ and possessing a certain symbolic value. Man's essential freedom is asserted, and original sin and pre- destination denied. The most successful portion of the Socinian polemic was its attack on the satisfaction theory of the atonement, which the reformers had universally accepted. Satisfaction is no demand of God's nature. Forgiveness and satisfaction are mutually exclusive conceptions. It is absolute injustice that the sins of the guilty be punished on the person of the innocent. Christ's death is a great example of the obedience which every Christian should, if necessary, manifest; but that obedience was no greater than He owed for Himself, and He could not transfer its value to others. Could it be so transferred, in so far as a man felt himself thereby relieved from moral effort for righteous- ness, character would thereby be weakened. The relation of Socinianism to the later Scholasticism, es- pecially that of Scotus, is undoubted; but unlike that mediseval system, it rejected all authority of the church and found its source in the Scriptures, interpreted by reason. It rebelled against the prevailing views of human inability and total de- pravity. It did not a little to free religion from the bondage of dogma and to favor the unprejudiced study of Scripture; but it had almost no conception of what religion meant to Paul, Augustine, or Luther — a new, vital personal relationship be- tween the believing soul and God through Christ. Suppressed, largely through the efforts of the Jesuits in Po- land, Socinianism found some supporters in the Netherlands and even more in England, where it was to have no little influ- ence. SECTION XV. ARMINIANISM The rigor of Calvinism produced a reaction, especially in Holland, where humanistic traditions had never died out and where Anabaptism was widely spread. It manifested itself 454 ARMINIUS in an emphasis on the more practical aspects of religion, a dis- inclination toward sharp creedal definitions, and a more tolerant attitude. Such a thinker was the Dutch scholar Dirck Coornhert (1522-1590); but it came to its fullest expres- sion in the work of Jacobus Arminius (1560-1609) and his dis- ciples. Arminlus, whose relatives were killed in the Netherland strug- gle for independence, was educated by friends at the University of Ley den, from 1576 to 1582. He was then sent to Geneva at the expense of the merchant's guild of Amsterdam. In 1588, he entered on a pastorate in Amsterdam, winning distinc- tion as a preacher and pastor of irenic spirit. In 1603 he was chosen to succeed the eminent Franz Junius (1545-1602), as professor of theology in Leyden, where he remained till his death. Though indisposed to controversy, he was appointed in 1589 to reply to Coornhert and to defend the "supralapsa- rian" position against two ministers of Delft. The discussion last named had to do with the order of the divine purposes. Did God "decree" election and reprobation, and then permit the fall as a means by which the decree could be carried out (supra lapsum)^ Or did He foresee and permit that man would fall, and then decree election as the method of saving some (infra lapsum)? As he studied the questions involved, I Arminius came to doubt the whole doctrine of unconditional predestination and to ascribe to man a freedom, which, however congenial to Melanchthon (ante, p. 442), had no place in pure Calvinism. A bitter controversy sprang up between Arminius and his supralapsarian colleague in the university, Franz Gomarus (1563-1641), and soon the Protestant Netherlands were widely involved. After Arminius's death, in 1609, the leadership of the party was taken by the court preacher Johan Wtenbogaert (1557- 1644) and by Simon Episcopius (1583-1643), Arminius's friend and pupil, and soon to be professor of theology in Leyden. By them "Arminian" vie\vs were systematized and developed, and both opposed the current emphasis on minutiae of doctrine, viewing Christianity primarily as a force for moral transforma- tion. In 1610, they and other sympathizers to the number of forty-one, at the instance of the eminent Dutch statesman, Johan van Oldenbarneveldt (1547-1619), a lover of religious toleration, drew up a statement of their faith called the "Re- ARMINIANISM 455 monstrance," ^ from which the party gained the name " Re- monstrants." Over against the Calvinist doctrine of absolute predestination, it taught a predestination based on divine fore- knowledge of the use men would make of the means of grace. Against the doctrine that Christ died for the elect only, it asserted that He died for all, though none receive the benefits of His death except believers. It was at one with Calvinism in denying the ability of men to do anything really good of themselves — all is of divine grace. Hence the Arminians were not Pelagians {ante, p. 185). In opposition to the Calvinist doctrine of irresistible grace, they taught that grace may be rejected, and they declared uncertainty regarding the Calvin- ist teaching of perseverance, holding it possible that men may lose grace once received. All the Protestant Netherlands were speedily filled with conflict. The vast majority of the people were Calvinists, and that view had the support of the Stadholder Maurice (1588-1625). The Remonstrants were favored by Olden- barneveldt, the leader of the province of Holland, and by the great jurist and historian, the founder of international law, Hugo Grotius (1583-1645). The dispute soon became involved in politics. The Netherlands were divided between the sup- porters of "states rights," which included the wealthier mer- chant classes and of which Oldenbarneveldt and Grotius were leaders, and the national party of which Maurice was the head. The national party now wished a national synod to decide the controversy. The province of Holland, under Oldenbarneveldt, held that each province could decide its religious affairs and resisted the proposal. Maurice, by a coup d'etat in July, 1618, overthrew the "states-rights" party. Oldenbarneveldt, in spite of his great services, was beheaded on May 13, 1619, and Grotius condemned to life imprisonm.ent, from which he escaped in 1621. Meanwhile a national synod, called by the states-general, held session in Dort from November 13, 1618, to May 9, 1619. Besides representatives from the Netherlands, delegates from England, the Palatinate, Hesse, Bremen, and Switzerland shared in its proceedings. By the synod of Dort, Arminianism was condemned and "canons," aggressively Calvinistic in tone, adopted, which, together with the Heidelberg Catechism, and i^Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 545-549. 456 ARMINIANISM, GROTIUS the Belgic Confession {ante, pp. 433, 443) became the doctrinal basis of the Dutch Church.^ Not so extreme as individual Calvinists — it did not adopt Gomarus's supralapsarian] views — the synod of Dort reached the high-water mark of Calvin- istic creed-making. Immediately after the synod of Dort the Remonstrants were banished, but on the death of Maurice, in 1625, the measures against them became dead letters. They returned, though they were not to receive official recognition till 1795. In the Netherlands the party grew slowly, and still exists. Its type of piety in the home land was prevailingly intellectual and ethical, and was somewhat affected by Socinianism. Armin- ianism was to have even greater influence in England than in its home land, and was to prove, in the person of John Wesley, its possibility of association with as warm-hearted and emotional a type of piety as any interpretation of Christian truth can exhibit. Out of this controversy there emerged from the pen of Gro- tius, in 1617, an important theory of the atonement. The view of Anselm had looked upon Christ's death as the satis- faction of the injured divine honor (ante, p. 263). The reform- ers had viewed it as the payment of penalty for sin to outraged divine justice on behalf of those for whom Christ died, and had represented the exaction of penalty as a fundamental demand of God's nature, who may be merciful but must be just. To Calvinistic conception, Christ's sacrifice was sufficient for all, but efficient only for the elect in whose behalf He died. The Socinians had subjected these views to a radical criticism, denying that God's nature demanded punishment, or that the penalty due to one could justly be met by the sufferings of an- other (ante, p. 453). To the Socinian criticism Grotius now replied. God is a great moral ruler. Sin is an offense against His law. Like a wise earthly governor He may pardon if He chooses; but to pardon without making evident the regard in which He holds His law would be to bring that law into con- tempt. Hence Christ's death was not a payment for man's sin — that is freely forgiven — but a tribute to the sanctity of the divine government, showing that while God remits the penalty. He vindicates the majesty of His divine government. In that .sense the sacrifice of Christ is no injustice. It is the divine » Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 ; 550-597. HUGO GROTIUS 457 tribute to offended law. Like a wise earthly ruler, God may offer pardon to all who will receive it on such terms as He chooses, for example, on condition of faith and repentance. The ingenuity of this theory is undeniable. It relieved the embarrassment of the Arminians caused by their assertion that Christ died for all. If that sacrifice was for all, and not for the elect only, and was a payment of the penalty for sin, why then were not all saved? Grotius gave answer by denying the pay- ment of penalty. He also gave, in reply to the Socinians, a definite reason for the great sacrifice. Yet, of all the the- ories of the atonement this is the most theatrical and least satisfactory, for the message of the Gospel is that in some true sense Christ died, not for general justice, but for me, SECTION XVI. ANGLICANISM, PURITANISM, AND CONGREGATION- ALISM IN ENGLAND. EPISCOPACY AND PRESBYTERIANISM IN SCOTLAND Queen Elizabeth's relations to the Catholics have been else- where considered {ante, p. 438). Her position, at the beginning of her reign, was one of exceeding difficulty. With her people far from united in religious belief, with plots at home and ene- mies abroad, it was only by political manoeuvring of extreme skilfulness that she was able to steer a successful course. Her difficulties were increased by the divisions which appeared, soon after the beginning of her reign, among those who accepted her rejection of Rome. These were augmented, as that reign advanced, by the quickened popular religious life which was transforming a nation that had been previously rather spiritu- ally apathetic during the changes under Henry VIII, Edward VI, and Mary. Elizabeth purposely made the acceptance of her religious settlement as easy as possible. The church, in its officers and services, resembled the older worship as fully as Protestant sentiment would tolerate. All but a fragment of its parish clergy conformed, and Elizabeth was well satisfied to leave them undisturbed in their parishes, provided they remained quiet, though their hearty acceptance of Protestantism was often doubtful and their capacity to preach or spiritual earnestness often dubious. From a political point of view her policy was 458 THE RISE OF THE PURITANS wise. England was spared such wars as devastated France and Germany. From the first, the Queen was faced, however, by a more aggressive Protestantism. Many who had been exiles under Mary had come under the influence of Geneva or Zurich and returned filled with admiration for their thoroughgoing Protes- tantism. They were men prevailingly of deep religious earnest- ness, upon whom Elizabeth must depend in her conflict with Rome, yet who, if they could introduce the changes which they desired, the Queen believed would turmoil a situation kept at peace at best with difliculty. Yet the desires of these men are easily understandable from a religious point of view. They would purge from the services what they believed to be rem- nants of Roman superstition, and procure in every parish an earnest, spiritual-minded, preaching minister. In particular, they objected to the prescribed clerical dress as perpetuating in the popular mind the thought of the ministry as a spiritual estate of peculiar powers, to kneeling at the reception of the Lord's Supper as implying adoration of the physical presence of Christ therein, to the use of the ring in marriage as continuing the estimate of matrimony as a sacrament, and the sign of the cross in baptism as superstitious. Because they thus desired to purify the church, this party, by 1564, was popularly called the "Puritans." Led by Laurence Humphrey (1527-1590), president of Mag- dalen College, Oxford, and Thomas Sampson (1517-1589), dean of Christ Church, Oxford, both Marian exiles, the earliest Puritan discussion was over the use of the prescribed garments — the "Vestiarian Controversy." Cambridge University sym- pathized largely with the Puritans. But in this matter the Queen's policy was strongly opposed to modification, and in 1566 Archbishop Parker issued his "Advertisements,"^ by which all preachers were required to secure fresh licenses from the bishops, controversial sermons forbidden, kneeling at com- munion required, and clerical dress minutely prescribed. Under these regulations a number of Puritan clergy were deprived of their positions. Among men who had learned in Zurich and Geneva to feel that any worship for which Biblical warrant could not be found 1 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp. 467-475. DESIRES OF THE PURITANS 459 is an Insult to the divine majesty, this led to a further position— a question whether an ecclesiastical system which deposed ministers who refused to use vestments and ceremonies not capable of Scriptural demonstration was that which God in- tended for His church. Furthermore, as they read their New Testament through Genevan spectacles, they saw there a definite pattern of church government quite unlike that exist- ing in England, in which effective discipline was maintained by elders, ministers were in office with the consent of the congrega- tion, and there was essential spiritual parity between those whom, as Calvin said, the Scriptures In describing them as "bishops, presbyters, and pastors," "uses the words as synony- mous." ^ It was the same conviction as to the essential equality of those In spiritual office that nerved Scottish Presbyterlanism to Its long fight with "prelacy." The representative and leader of this second stage of Puri- tanism was Thomas Cartwright (1535?-1603). As Lady Mar- garet professor of divinity In Cambridge University in 1569, he advocated the appointment of elders for discipline in each parish, the election of pastors by their people, the abolition of such offices as archbishops and archdeacons, and the reduction of clergy to essential parity. That was practical Presbyterian- ism, and the more radical Puritans moved henceforth In the Presbyterian direction. The more moderate of the party con- tinued their opposition to ceremonies and vestments without joining with Cartwright In a demand that the constitution of the English Church be altered. Cartwrlght's arguments aroused the opposition of the man who was to be the chief enemy of the early Puritans, John Whitgift (1530-1604). Against Cartwrlght's assertion of jure divino Presbyterlanism, Whitgift was far from asserting a similar authority for episco- pacy. To him It was the best form of church government, but he denied that any exact pattern is laid down in the Scriptures, and affirmed that much is left to the judgment of the church. By Whitgift's influence, Cartwright was deprived of his pro- fessorship In 1570, and the next year driven from the university. He lived thenceforth a wandering and persecuted life, much of the time on the Continent, but laboring Indefatlgably to further the Presbyterian Puritan cause. The changes advocated by Cartwright were presented In an ' Institutes, 4 : 3, 8. 460 DESIRES OF THE PURITANS extreme but popularly effective pamphlet entitled An Admo- nition to the Parliament, written by two London ministers, John Field (?-1588) and Thomas Wilcox (1549?-1608), in 1572/ To it Whitgift replied, and was answered, in turn, by Cart- wright. Presbyterian Puritanism was growing. To those more moderate than Cartwright, it seemed that it would require relatively little alteration of the existing churchly constitution. The obnoxious ceremonies could be discarded, the Prayer Book revised, elders instituted in parishes, and the bishops preserved as presiding officers of the churches of each diocese organized as a synod, primi inter pares. A voluntary local classis, a kind of presbytery, was organized by Puritan ministers in Wandsworth, near London, in 1572; and similar organiza- tions sprang up elsewhere. Meeting of ministers for preaching and discussion — the so-called "prophesyings" — were begun about the same time. The radical Puritan cause was ad- vanced by the Declaration of Ecclesiastical Discipline, published by a young Cambridge scholar, Walter Travers (1548?-1635), in 1574. This soon became, in a sense, the Puritan standard. All this was aided by the succession to the archbishopric of Canterbury, on Parker's death, in 1576, of Edmund Grindal (1519?-1583), who sympathized with the Puritans and was suspended for his conscientious objections to the Queen's orders to forbid " prophesy ings." Cartwright and his fellow Puritans opposed all separation from the Church of England. Their thought was to introduce as much of Puritan discipline and practice as possible, and wait for its further reformation by the government. Such a hope did not seem vain. Within a generation, the constitution and worship of the church of the land had been four times altered. Might it not soon be changed for a fifth time into what the Puritans deemed a more Scriptural model? They would agi- tate and wait. This remained the programme of the Puritans generally. Naturally, there were some to whom this delay seemed unjustifiable. They would establish what they con- ceived to beScriptural at once. These were the Separatists or early Congregationalists. On June 19, 1507, the authorities in London seized and im- prisoned the members of such a Separatist congregation, as- sembled for worship ostensibly to celebrate a wedding. This company had rejected the Church of England and had chosen at BEGINNINGS OF CONGREGATIONALISM 461 least two officers — Richard Fitz, minister, and Thomas Bowland, deacon. It was evidently moving in the Congregational direc- tion. Whether remnants of this congregation maintained a subsequent corporate existence is not known. The first really conspicuous advocate of Congregational principles in England was Robert Browne (1550?-1633), a student in Cambridge in the troublous time of Cartwright's brief professorship, and a graduate there in 1572. At first an advanced Presbyterian Puritan, he came to adopt Separatist principles by about 1580, and in connection with a friend, Robert Harrison, founded a Congregational Church in Norwich in 1581. As a result of his preaching he found himself speedily in prison. He and the majority of his congregation sought safety in Middelburg, in the Netherlands. Here in Middel- burg Browne had printed, in 1582, a substantial volume con- taining three treatises. One, directed against the Puritans who would remain in the Church of England, bears its burden in its title: A Treatise of Reformation without Tarying for anie, and of the Wickednesse of those Preachers which will not reforme . . . till the Magistrate commaimde and compell them. Another, A Booke which sheweth the Life and Manners of all true Christians, presented the fundamental principles of Congregationalism. According to Browne, the only church is a local body of experiential believers in Christ, united to Him and to one an- other by a voluntary covenant. Such a church has Christ as its immediate head, and is ruled by officers and laws of His appointment. Each is self-governing and chooses a pastor, a teacher, elders, deacons, and widows, whom the New Testa- ment designates; but each member has responsibility for the welfare of the whole. No church has authority over any other, but each owes to other brotherly helpfulness. The system thus outlined was essentially democratic — far more so than early' Congregationalism in general was actually to be in its practice. Browne's system so closely resembles the views of the Ana- baptists {ante, p. 368) that some connection in thought at least seems well-nigh certain. Norwich, also, was largely populated by Dutch refugees. Yet Browne displayed no conscious in- debtedness to the Anabaptists, and did not reject infant baptism. His emphasis on the covenant as the constitutive element in the church is much more positive than among the Anabaptists. The probable conclusion is that Browne owed much to a some- 462 PURITANS AND ANGLICANS what widely diffused Anabaptist way of thinking, rather than borrowed directly from any Anabaptist source. Browne's own stay in Holland was brief. His church was turmoiled, and after a period in Scotland he returned to England, where he con- formed, outwardly at least, to the Established Church in Octo- ber, 1585, and spent his long remaining life, from 1591 to 1633, in its ministry. With such a record of abandonment of early principles it is no wonder that early Congregationalists re- sented the name "Brownists"; yet Congregationalism has never been more clearly enunciated than by him. Under Grindal's archbishopric many of the Puritan minis- ters ceased to use the Prayer Book in whole or in part, and the establishment of the "Holy Discipline," as that set forth in Traver's Declaration of Ecclesiastical Discipline was called, went on apace. Grindal was succeeded, however, from 1583 to 1604, in the see of Canterbury by Whitgift. A thorough Calvinist in theology, he was a martinet in discipline, and in this had the hearty support of the Queen. He promptly issued articles enjoining full approval and use of the Prayer Book, prescribing clerical dress, and forbidding all private re- ligious meetings.^ Thenceforth the hand of repression rested heavily on Puritans and Separatists. This hostility was embit- tered by the secret publication of a telling satire against the bishops, coarse and unfair, but extremely witty and exasperat- ing, plainly of Puritan origin, though disliked by the Puritans generally. Issued in 1588-1589, and known as the "Martin Marprelate Tracts," their authorship has never been fully as- certained, though probabilities point to Job Throckmorton (1545-1601), a Puritan laj^man. Puritan and Separatist assertion of the divine character of their systems was now rapidly producing a change of attitude in the leaders of their opponents, who may be called Anglicans. In his sermon at Paul's Cross, in London, in 1589, Richard Bancroft (1544-1610), to be Whitgift's successor as archbishop, not merely denounced Puritanism, but affirmed a jure dimno right for episcopacy. Adrian Saravia (1531-1613), a Walloon theologian domiciled in England, advocated the same view a year later, as did Thomas Bilson (1547-1616), soon to be bishop of Winchester, in his Perpetual Government of Christ's Church, in 1593. Less extreme was the learned Richard 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 481-484. CONGREGATIONAL MARTYRS 463 Hooker (1553?-1600), in his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, of 1594. Though episcopacy is grounded in Scripture, his chief argument in its favor is its essential reasonableness, over against the extreme Biblicism of the Puritans. The foundations of a high-church party had been laid. The repression of Puritanism and Separatism was greatly aided by the court of the High Commission. From Henry VHI's time it had been a favorite royal expedient to control ecclesi- astical affairs or persons by commissions appointed to investi- gate and adjudicate without being bound by the ordinary proc- esses of law. The system was a gradual growth. Elizabeth developed it, and made it more permanent ; but it did not be- come a thoroughly effective ecclesiastical court till Bancroft had become one of its members in 1587. By 1592 it had fully attained its powers. The presumption of guilt was against the accused, and the nature of proof was undefined. It could examine and imprison anywhere in England, and had become the right arm of episcopal authority. Meanwhile, Congregationalism had reappeared. In 1587 Henry Barrowe (1550?-1593), a lawyer of London, and John Greenwood (?-1593), a clerg\^man, were arrested for holding Separatist meetings in London. From their prison they smuggled manuscripts which appeared as printed treatises in Holland, attacking Anglicans and Puritans alike, and explain- ing Congregational principles. A number were won, including Francis Johnson (1562-1618), a Puritan minister. In 1592 a Congregational Church was formed in London with Johnson as its "pastor" and Greenwood as its "teacher," and on April 6 of the next year Barrowe and Greenwood were hanged for denying the Queen's supremacy in ecclesiastical matters. The same year Parliament passed a statute proclaiming banishment against all who challenged the Queen's ecclesiastical authority, refused to go to church, or were present at some " conventicle " where other than the lawful worship was employed.^ Under its terms most of the London Congregationalists were com- pelled to seek refuge in Amsterdam, where Johnson continued their pastor and Henry Ainsworth (1571-1623?) their teacher. The closing years of Elizabeth's reign also saw the begin- nings of a reaction from the dominant Calvinism. By 1595 a controversy broke out in Cambridge, where Peter Baro (1534- 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 492-498. 464 JAMES I AND THE PURITANS 1599) had been advocating views that would later have been called Arminian. This discussion led to the publication, un- der Whitgift's auspices of the strongly Calvinistic "Lambeth Articles" ;^ but the tendency to criticise Calvinism, thus started, increased, and through opposition to Puritanism, in part, was to become more and more characteristic of the Anglican party. Elizabeth closed her long reign on March 24, 1603, and was succeeded by Mary "Queen of Scots's" son, James I (1603- 1625), who had already held the Scottish throne since 1567, as James VI. All religious parties in England looked with hope to his accession, the Catholics because of his parentage, the Presbyterian Puritans by reason of his Presbyterian education, and the Anglicans on account of his high conceptions of divine right and his hostility to Presbyterian rule, which had devel- oped in his long struggles to maintain the power of the crown in Scotland. Only the Anglicans read his character correctly. "No bishop, no King," was his favorite expression. In claim and action he was no more arbitrary than Elizabeth ; but the country would bear much from a popular and admired ruler which it resented from a disliked, undignified, and unrepresen- tative sovereign. On his way to London, in April, 1603, James I was presented with the "Millenary Petition," ^ so-called because it was sup- posed to bear a thousand signatures, though really unsigned. It was a very moderate statement of the Puritan desires. As a consequence, a conference was held at Hampton Court, in January, 1604, between bishops and Puritans, in the royal presence — the leading Anglican disputant, besides the King himself, being Bancroft, now bishop of London. No changes of importance desired by the Puritans were granted, except a new translation of the Bible, which resulted in the "Author- ized Version" of 1611. They were ordered to conform. This Anglican victory was followed by the enactment by convoca- tion, with royal approval, in 1604, of a series of canons elevating into church law many of the declarations and practices against which the Puritans had objected. The leading spirit here was Bancroft, who was soon to succeed Whitgift in the see of Canterbury (1604-1610). The Puritans were now thoroughly alarmed, but Bancroft was more considerate in government 1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 523. 2 Gee and Hardy, pp. 508-511. SEPARATIST MOVEMENTS 465 than his declarations and previous conduct would have proph- esied, and only a relatively small number of ministers, estimated variously from forty-nine to three hundred, were actually de- prived. Anglicanism was gaining strength, also, from a gradual improvement in the education and zeal of its clergy, which Whitgift and Bancroft did much to foster — a conspicuous ex- ample being the learned, saintly, and eloquent Lancelot An- drewes (1555-1626), who became bishop of Chichester in 1605. Bancroft's successor as archbishop was George Abbot (1611- 1633), a man of narrow sympathies and strong Calvinism, un- popular with the mass of the clergy, and himself in practical disgrace in the latter part of his episcopate. The loss of such strong hands as those of Whitgift and Bancroft was felt by the Anglicans, and under these circumstances, not only Puritanism but Separatism made decided progress. A Separatist movement of far-reaching ultimate consequences had its beginnings probably about 1602, in the work of John Smyth (?-1612), a former clergyman of the establishment, who had adopted Separatist principles and now gathered a congregation in Gainsborough. Soon adherents were secured in the adjacent rural districts, and a second congregation gathered in the home of William Brewster (1560 ?-l 644), at Scrooby. Of this Scrooby body William Bradford (1590-1657) was a youthful member. From about 1604 it enjoyed the lead- ership of the learned and sweet-tempered John Robinson (1575?-1625), like Smyth a former clergyman of the Puritan party in the Church of England, and like him led to believe Separatism the only logical step. The hand of opposition being heavy upon them, the Gainsborough congregation, led by Smyth, were self-exiled to Amsterdam, probably in 1607. That centred in Scrooby, under Robinson and Brewster's lead- ership, followed the same road to Holland, in 1607 and 1608, but established itself in 1609 in Leyden. At Amsterdam Smyth came into contact with the Men- nonites, and by his own study was convinced that their posi- tion rejecting infant baptism was that of primitive Christianity. In 1608 or 1609 he therefore baptized himself by pouring, and then the others of his church. Of unstable disposition, Smyth soon after quarrelled with his flock, but two of its members, Thomas Helwys (1550?-1616?), and John Murton (?-1625?), led the return of a considerable portion to England, and estabr 466 ENGLISH BAPTISTS. THE PILGRIM FATHERS lished in London, in 1611 or 1612, the first permanent Baptist congregation on English soil. In the contemporary Dutch controversies they had adopted the Arminian position, and were therefore known as "General Baptists." Apparently some remnants of the exiled Congregational Church of John- son and Greenwood (antey p. 463) kept up an organization in London, but the effective permanent replanting of Congrega- tionalism in England was when Henry Jacob (1563-1624), who had been of Robinson's congregation in Leyden, established a church in Southwark in 1616. From this church a portion seceded in 1633, on Baptist principles. They were Calvinists, and hence named "Particular Baptists." By them immersion was practised about 1641, and thence spread to all English Baptists. The chief event in the history of the Leyden Congregational Church was the decision to send its more active minority to America. Robinson reluctantly stayed with the majority. In 1620, after infinite negotiation, the "Pilgrim Fathers" crossed the Atlantic in the Mayfloiver, under the spiritual leadership of their "elder," William Brewster, and on Decem- ber 21 laid the foundations of the colony of Plymouth, of which William Bradford was soon to be the wise and self- forgetful governor. Congregationalism was thus planted in New England. Meanwhile under Abbot's less vigorous government Puri- tanism was establishing "lectureships," the successors of the old-time "prophesyings." In parishes where the legal incum- bent was hostile, or unwilling, or unable to preach — sometimes with the consent of the incumbent himself — Puritan money was financing afternoon preachers, of strongly Puritan cast. Puritanism had always laid stress on a strict observance of Sunday. Its Sabbatarian tendencies were augmented by the publication, in 1595, by Nicholas Bownde (?-1613) of his Doctrine of the Sabbath, urging the perpetuity of the fourth commandment in Jewish rigor. Much Puritan hostility was, therefore, roused — and that of Archbishop Abbot also — when James I issued his famous Declaration of Sports, in 1618, in which he commended the old popular games and dances for Sunday observance. To the Puritan it seemed a royal com- mand to disobey the will of God. Puritanism was steadily growing as a political force all through James's reign. The JAMES rS POLICY IN SCOTLAND 407 King's arbitrary treatment of Parliament, his failure to support effectively the hard-pressed Protestants of Germany in the opening struggles of the Thirty Years' War, and above all, his ultimately unsuccessful attempts to procure marriage with a Spanish princess for his heir, were increasingly resented, and drove the Commons into a steadily growing political sympathy with Puritanism, the more that the Anglicans were identified largely with the royal policies. By the end of his reign, in 1625, the outlook was ominous. Nor was James's policy in his northern kingdom less fraught with future mischief. During James's childhood the Regent Morton, in 1572, had secured the nominal perpetuation of the episcopate largely as a means of getting possession of church lands. There were, therefore, bishops in name in Scotland. Their power was slight. In 1581, under the lead of Andrew Melville, the General Assembly had given full authority to presbyteries as ecclesiastical courts, and had ratified the Presby- terian Second Book of Discipline. In spite of James's opposi- tion, the King and the Scottish Parliament had been compelled to recognize this Presbyterian system as established by law in 1592. Yet James was determined to substitute a royally controlled episcopacy for this largely self-governmg Presbyterianism. He had the means at hand in the nominal bishops. By 1597 he was strong enough to insist that he alone had the right to call general assemblies, and his encroachments on Presby- terianism steadily grew. Melville and other leaders were exiled. The year 1610 saw a notable royal advance. James established two high commission courts for ecclesiastical cases in Scotland, similar to that of England, and each with an archbishop at its head ; and he procured from English bishops episcopal consecration and apostolical succession for the hitherto irregular Scottish episcopate. A packed Parliament, in 1612, completed the process by giving full diocesan jurisdiction to these bishops. Thus far there had been no changes in worship, but nine years later the King forced through a cowed General Assembly, and then through Parliament, kneeling at^ com- munion, confirmation by episcopal hands, the observation of the great church festivals, private communion and private baptism. Scotland was seething with religious discontent when James died. James I was succeeded, in England and Scotland, by his son 468 CHARLES I AND LAUD Charles I (1625-1649). A man of more personal dignity than his father, of pure family life, and of sincere religion, he was quite as exalted as James in his conceptions of the divine right of Kings, arbitrary in his actions, and with no capacity to understand the drift of public sentiment. He was also marked by a weakness that easily laid him open to charges of double- dealing and dishonesty. From the first he enjoyed the friend- ship and support of one of the most remarkable men of the time, William Laud (1573-1645). Laud had been, under James, a leader among the younger Anglicans. A vigorous opponent of Calvinism, he had argued as early as 1604 "that there could be no true church without bishops." In 1622, in contest with the Jesuit, Fisher, he had held that the Roman Church was a true church, and a branch of the Catholic Church universal, of which the Church of Eng- land was the purest part. In many respects he was a founder of the "Anglo-Catholic" position ; but it is not to be wondered that both the Puritans and the Roman authorities, to whom that view was then novel, believed him a Roman Catholic at heart. Twice he was offered a cardinalate. So to class him was, however, to do him a great injustice. Laud was a mar- tinet, intent on uniformity in ceremony, dress and worship, with a rough tongue and overbearing manner that made him many enemies. At bottom, with all his narrowness of sym- pathy, he had a real piety of the type, though not of the win- someness, of Lancelot Andrewes. In 1628 Charles made Laud bishop of the strongly Puritan diocese of London, and in 1633 archbishop of Canterbury. To all intents he was Charles's chief adviser also in political affairs after the murder of the duke of Buckingham in 1628. The country gentry, who formed the backbone of the House of Commons were strongly Calvinist in their sympathies, and disposed politically to resent the arbitrary imposition of taxes without parliamentary consent. Charles soon put himself in disfavor in both respects. Under Laud's guidance he pro- moted Arminians to church preferments. To prevent Cal- vinistic discussion, in 1628, he caused a declaration to be pre- fixed to the Thirty-nine Articles, that no man shall "put his I own sense," on any Article, "but shall take it in the literal and grammatical sense." ^ Parliament resented these actions.^ 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 518-520. 2 Ibid., pp. 521-527. CHARLES AND PARLIAMENT. NEW ENGLAND 469 . •, ' > Charles had proceeded to forced taxation, imprisoning some who refused to pay. Roger Man waring (1590-1653), a royal chaplain, preached in 1627, arguing that as the King ruled as God's representative, those who refused taxes imposed by him were in peril of damnation. ParUament condemned Man- waring, in 1628, to fine and imprisonment, but Charles protected him by pardon and rewarded him by ecclesiastical advance- ment, ultimately by a bishopric. Questions of royal right to imprison without statement of cause, and of taxation, as well as of religion, embittered the relations of King and Parliament, and after dismissing that of 1629, Charles determined to rule without parliamentary aid. No Parliament was to meet till 1640. The weakness of the Anglican party was that it had identified itself with the arbitrary policy of the King. Laud, with the support of the King, enforced conformity with a heavy hand. Lectureships were broken up. Puritan preachers silenced. The Declaration of Sports was reissued. Under these circumstances many Puritans began to despair of the religious and political outlook, and to plan to follow the Separatists across the Atlantic. It was no abstract religious liberty that they sought, but freedom to preach and organize as they desired. By 1628, emigration to Massachusetts had be- gun. In 1629, a royal charter for Massachusetts was secured, and a church formed in Salem. The year 1630 saw the arrival of many immigrants under the leadership of John Winthrop (1588-1649). Soon there were strong churches about Massa- chusetts Bay, under able ministerial leaders, of whom John Cotton (1584-1652) of Boston, and Richard Mather (1596- 1669) of Dorchester, were the most conspicuous. Connecticut colony was fully established in 1636, with Thomas Hooker (1586-1647) as its chief minister at Hartford; and New Haven colony in 1638, under the spiritual guidance of John Davenport (1597-1670). These men were clergy of the English establish- ment. They had no fondness for Separatism. But, like the Separatists, they looked on the Bible as the sole law of church organization, and they read it in the same way. Their churches were organized, therefore, on the Congregational model. Till 1640, the Puritan tide to New England ran full, at least twenty thousand crossing the Atlantic. Charles's period of rule without Parliament was a time of considerable prosperity in England, but taxes widely believed 470 SCOTLAND REVOLTS. THE CIVIL WAR to be illegal, such as the famous "ship-money," and enforced religious uniformity, kept up the unrest. It was in Scotland, however, that the storm broke. James I had succeeded in his overthrow of Presbyterianism largely by securing the sup- port of the nobles by grants of church lands. At the beginning of his reign Charles, by an act of revocation that was just, though impolitic, ordered the restoration of these lands, to the lasting advantage of the Scottish church, though the command was imperfectly executed. Its political effect, however, was to throw the possessors of church lands and tithes largely on the side of the discontented Presbyterians. There was now a relatively united Scotland, instead of the divisions which James had fomented to his profit. Great as were the changes effected by James I, he had not dared alter the larger features of public worship (ante, p. 467) . But now, in 1637, in a fatuous desire for uniformity, Charles, inspired by Laud, ordered the imposition of a liturgy which was essentially that of the Church of England. Its use, on July 23, in Edinburgh, led to riot. Scotland flared in opposition. In February, 1638, a National Covenant to defend the true re- ligion was widely signed. In December, a General Assembly deposed the bishops, and repudiated the whole ecclesiastical structure which James and Charles had erected since 1597. This was rebellion, and Charles raised forces to suppress it. So formidable was the Scottish attitude that an agreement patched up a truce in 1639; but in 1640 Charles determined to bring the Scots to terms. To pay the expenses of the war in prospect Charles was at last compelled to call an English Parliament in April, 1640. The old parliamentary grievances in politics and religion were at once presented, and Charles speedily dissolved the "Short Parliament." In the brief war that followed the Scots successfully invaded England. Charles was forced to treat, and to guarantee the expenses of a Scottish army of occupation till the treaty should be completed. There was no help for it. The English Parliament must again be sum- moned, and in November, 1640, the "Long Parliament" began its work. It was evident at once that Presbyterian Puritanism was in the majority. Laud was cast into prison. In July, 1641, the High Commission was abolished. In January, 1642, the attempt of the King to seize five members of the Commons, whom he accused of treason, precipitated the civil war. In THE WESTMINSTER ASSEAIBLY 471 general, the North and West stood for the King, the South and East for Parliament.^ Parliament abolished episcopacy in January, 1643. Provision must be made for the creed and government of the church, and therefore, Parliament, quite in the spirit of Elizabeth, as sover- eign, called an assembly of one hundred and twenty-one clergy- men and thirty laymen, named by it, to meet in Westminster on July 1, 1643, to advise Parliament, which kept the power of enactment in its own hands. The Westminster Assembly, thus convened, contained a few Congregationalists and Episcopa- lians, but its overwhelming majority was Presbyterian Puritan. Meanwhile the war had begun ill for Parliament, and to secure Scottish aid the Solemn League and Covenant, pledging the largest possible uniformity in religion in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and opposing "prelacy," was accepted by the Scottish and English Parliaments between August and October, 1643, and was soon required of all Englishmen over eighteen years of age. Scottish commissioners, without vote, but with much influence, now sat in the Westminster Assembly. The Assembly presented to Parliament a Directory of Worship and a thoroughly Presbyterian system of church government in 1644. In Janu- ary following, Parliament abolished the Prayer Book and sub- stituted the Directory, which provided an order of worship substantially that used in conservative Presbyterian and Con- gregational Churches to the present day, without liturgical prayer, though with suggestions of appropriate subjects of petition. Parliament looked askance at the establishment of Presbyterian government, though finally ordering it in June, 1646. The work was, however, very imperfectly set in opera- tion. The same month that witnessed the abolition of the Prayer Book, saw the execution of Laud under a bill of at- tainder — an act which must be judged one of vindictiveness. The Assembly next prepared its famous confession,^ which it laid before Parliament late in 1646. Adopted by the General Assembly of Scotland on August 27, 1647, it remains the standard of Scottish and American Presbyterianism. The Eng- lish Parliament refused approval till June, 1648, and then modi- fied some sections. In 1647, the Assembly completed two 1 For important documents illustrative of this period, see Gee and Hardy, pp. 537-585. 2 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 59S-G73. 472 CROMWELL. CHARLES I DEFEATED catechisms, a Larger, for pulpit exposition, and a Shorter,^ for the training of children. Both were approved by the Eng- lish Parliament and the Scottish General Assembly in 1648. The Westminster Confessio7i and catechisms have always ranked among the most notable expositions of Calvinism. In general, they repeat the familiar continental type. On the question of the divine decrees they are infralapsarian (ante, p. 454). One of their chief peculiarities is that in addition to the familiar derivation of original sin from the first parents as "the root of all mankind," they emphasize a "covenant of works" and a "covenant of grace." In the former, Adam is regarded as the representative head of the human race, to whom God made definite promises, which included his descendants, and which he, as their representative, forfeited by his disobedi- ence for them as well as for himself. The " covenant of works" having failed, God offered a new "covenant of grace" through Christ. This covenant doctrine is to be traced to Kaspar Olevianus (ante, p. 443), though its fullest exposition was to be in the work of Johann Coccejus (1603-1669), professor in Franeker and Leyden. It was an attempt to give a definite explanation of sin as man's own act, and to show a real human responsibility for his ruin. Another pecuHarity of these sym- bols is an emphasis on the Sabbath consonant with the Puritan development of this doctrine {ante, p. 466). While these theological and ecclesiastical discussions were in progress the civil war had run its early course. On July 2, 1644, the royal army had been defeated on Marston Moor near York, largely by the skill of a member of Parliament of little military experience, Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), whose abilities had created a picked troop of "religious men." Not quite a year later, on June 14, 1645, Cromwell cut to pieces the last field army of the King near Naseby. The next year Charles gave himself up to the Scots, who, in turn, surrendered him to the English Parliament. The army, as created by Crom- well, was a body of religious enthusiasts, in which little question was raised of finer distinctions of creed. So long as they op- posed Rome and "prelacy," Baptists, Congregationalists, and Puritans were welcome in it. The rigid Presbyterianism of the parliamentary majority was as distasteful to the army as the older rule of bishops, and Cromwell fully shared this 1 Ibid., pp. 676-703. CROIMWELL'S PROTECTORATE 473 feeling. The army was soon demanding a large degree of toler- ation. This attitude of the army prevented the full establishment of Presbyterianism which Parliament sanctioned. It dis- pleased the Scots. Charles now used this situation to intrigue with the Scots to invade England in his interest, inducing them to believe that he would support Presbyterianism. On August 17-19, 1648, the invading Scottish army was scattered by Crom- well near Preston. This victory left the army supreme in Eng- land. On December 6 following, "Pride's Purge" expelled from Parliament all opposed to the army's wishes. Charles I was then tried and condemned for his alleged treasons and per- fidies, and beheaded on January 30, 1649, bearing himself with great dignity. Cromwell then subjugated Ireland in 1649, reduced Scotland the next year, and overthrew Charles's son, the later Charles II (1660-1685) near Worcester in 1651. Op- position had been everywhere put down. Cromwell, though not identified wholly with any denomina- tion, was practically a Congregationalist, or Independent, and under his Protectorate a large degree of toleration was allowed.^ Since the beginning of the war, however, about two thousand Episcopal clergymen had been deprived, and had suffered great hardship. Then as in earlier and later changes it is evident, nevertheless, that the great majority of the clergy either were undisturbed or managed to adjust themselves to the new state of affairs. Able, conscientious, and statesmanlike as Crom- well was, his rule was that of military authority, and was, as such, disliked, while the bickerings of rival religious bodies were equally distasteful to a great majority of the people of England who could, as yet, conceive of only one established form of faith. Till his death, on September 3, 1658, Cromwell suppressed all disaffection. Oliver Cromwell was succeeded by his son, Richard, as Protector; but the new ruler was a man of no force, and prac- tical anarchy was the result. Royalists and Presbyterians now combined to effect a restoration of the monarchy. On April, 14, 1660, Charles II issued a declaration " of liberty to tender consciences," from Breda,^ and on May 29 was in London. But if the Presbyterians had just hopes of being included in the 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 574-585. a Ibid., pp. 585-588. 474 THE RESTORATION new religious settlement, they were doomed to bitter disappoint- ment. Charles II may have intended some comprehension of Pres- byterians in the national church. Edward Reynolds (1599- 1676), heretofore a decided Puritan, was made bishop of Nor- wich. The saintly Richard Baxter (1615-1691), one of the most eminent of the Presbyterian party, was offered a bishopric, but declined. A conference between bishops and Presbyterians was held by government authority at the Savoy Palace in 1661,^ but led to little result. Charles II was thoroughly immoral, weak, and indifferent in religion, and little reliance could be placed on his promises. Had he been a better or a stronger man, it is doubtful whether he could have stemmed the tide of national reaction against Puritanism. The first Parliament chosen after his restoration was fiercely royalist and Anglican. The Convocations of Canterbury and York met in 1661, and some six hundred alterations were made in the Prayer Book, but none looking in the Puritan direction, and in May, 1662, the new Act of Uniformity received the royal assent. By it^ the use of any other service than those of the revised Prayer Book was forbidden under heavy penalties, and each clergy- man was required, before August 24, to make oath of "un- feigned assent and consent to all and everything contained and prescribed" therein; and also, "that it is not lawful, upon any pretense whatsoever, to take arms against the King." These provisions w^ere intended to bar the Puritans from the church, and as such they were effectual. From fifteen hundred to two thousand ministers gave up their places rather than take >the prescribed oaths. The Puritan party was now, what it had never been before, one outside the Church of England. Non-conformity had been forced to become Dissent. Severer acts soon followed, induced in part by fear of conspiracy against the restored monarchy. By the First Conventicle Act, of 1664, fine, imprisonment, and ultimate transportation were the pen- alties for presence at a service not in accordance with the Prayer Book, attended by five or more persons not of the same household. The "Five Mile Act," ^ of the next year, forbad any person "in Holy Orders or pretended Holy Orders," or who had preached to a "conventicle," and did not take the 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 588-594. » Ibid., pp. 600-619. 3 Ibid., pp. 620-623. DISSENT REPRESSED 475 oath condemning armed resistance to the King, and pledging no attempt at " any alteration of government either in church or state," to hve within five miles of any incorporated town or within the same distance of the former place of his ministry. Such persons were also forbidden to teach school — about the only occupation readily open to a deprived minister. The Second Conventicle Act,^ of 1670, made penalties for such un- lawful attendance less severe, but ingeniously provided that the heavy fines on preacher and hearers could be collected from any attendant, in case poverty prevented their payment by all. Yet, in spite of this repression, Dissenting preaching and con- gregations continued. Charles II, though a man of no real religion, sympathized with the Roman faith, which he professed on his death-bed, and his brother, the later James II, was an acknowledged and earnest Catholic from 1672. Moreover, Charles was receiving secret pensions from the strongly Catholic Louis XIV of France. On March 15, 1672, with a design of aiding the Catholics and securing Dissenting favor to that end, Charles issued, on his own authority, a Declaration of Indulgence, by which Protes- tant Dissenters were granted public worship, the penal laws against the Catholics remitted, and their worship permitted in private houses. To Parliament this seemed an unconstitu- tional favor to Rome. It forced the withdrawal of the Indul- gence, in 1673, and passed the Test Act,^ which, though aimed at Catholics, bore hard on Protestant Dissenters. All in mili- tary or civil office, with few minor exceptions, living within thirty miles of London, were required to take the Lord's Sup- per according to the rites of the Church of England or forfeit their posts. This statute was not to be repealed till 1828. The repression of Dissent, therefore, continued unchanged till the death of Charles II, in 1685. For James II (1685-1688) it must be said that he saw in the establishment of Catholicism his chief aim, and his measures, though unwise, were courageous. He ignored the Test Act, and appointed Catholics to high office in military and civil service. He brought in Jesuits and monks. He secured from a packed Court of the Kmg's Bench, in 1686, an acknowledg- ment of his right "to dispense with all penal laws in particular cases." He re-established a High Commission Court. On 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 623-632. 2 jjjid.^ pp. 632-640. 476 THE REVOLUTION. TOLERATION April 4, 1687, he issued a Declaration of Indulgence/ granting complete religious toleration. In itself it was a well-sounding, and from the modern standpoint, a praiseworthy act. Yet its motives were too obvious. Its ultimate aim was to make England once more a Roman Catholic country, and all Protes- tantism was alarmed, while lovers of constitutional government saw in it a nullification of the power of Parliament by arbitrary royal will. The vast majority of Dissenters, though relieved thereby from grievous disabilities, refused to support it, and made common cause with the churchmen. When, in April, 1688, James II ordered the Indulgence read in all churches, seven bishops protested. They were put on trial and, to the delight of the Protestants, acquitted. James had taxed na- tional feeling too greatly. William of Orange (1650-1702), the Stadholder of the Netherlands, who had married Mary, James's daughter, was invited to head the movement against James. On November 5, 1688, he landed with an army. James fled to France. The Revolution was accomplished, and on February 13, 1689, William (III) and Mary were proclaimed joint sovereigns of England. The clergy of the Restoration had asserted too long the doc- trines of the divine right of Kings and of passive obedience to royal authority to make this change palatable. Seven bishops, headed by William Sancroft (1616-1693), refused the oath of allegiance to the new sovereigns, and with them about four hundred clergy. To them James II was still the Lord's anointed. They were deprived, as Anglicans and Dissenters had been before, and they bore themselves with equal courage. Many of them were men of earnest piety. They formed the Nonjuror party, which gradually died out. Under the circumstances of the Revolution of 1688, toleration could no longer be denied to Protestant Dissenters. By the Toleration Act^ of INIay 24, 1689, all who swore, or affirmed, the oaths of allegiance to William and Mary, rejected the juris- diction of the Pope, transubstantiation, the mass, the invoca- tion of the Virgin and saints, and also subscribed the doctrinal portions of the Thirty-nine Articles, were granted freedom of worsliip. It was a personal toleration, not a territorial adjust- ment as in Germany at the close of the Thirty Years' War. Diverse forms of Protestant worship could now exist side by 1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 641-644, 2 /^,jrf.^ pp. 654-664. SCOTLAND. THE COVENANTERS 477 side. The Dissenters may have amounted to a tenth of the population of England, divided between Presbyterians, Con- gregationahsts, Baptists, and Quakers. They were still bound to pay tithes to the establishment, and had many other dis- abilities, but they had won essential religious freedom. No such privileges were granted to deniers of the Trinity or to Roman Catholics. The effective relief of the latter did not come till 1778 and 1791, and was not completed till 1829. In Scotland, the Restoration was a time of great turmoil and suffering. The Parliament of 1661 annulled all acts af- fecting religion passed since 1633. Episcopacy was, therefore, restored as in the time of Charles I. In September, 1661, four bishops were appointed, chief of them James Sharp (1618- 1679) as archbishop of St. Andrews. Consecration was ob- tained from England. Sharp had been a Presbyterian minis- ter, but had betrayed his party and his church. All office- holders were required by Parliament to disown the covenants of 1638 and 1643. In 1663 Parliament enacted heavy fines for absence from the now episcopally governed churches, though even it did not dare introduce a liturgy. Many Pres- byterian ministers were now deprived, especially in south- western Scotland. When their parishioners absented them- selves from the ministration of the new appointees, they were fined, and if payment was not forthcoming, soldiers were quar- tered on them. In 1664 a High Commission Court was added to the instruments of repression. Two years later some of the oppressed supporters of the covenants of 1638 and 1643, or Cov- enanters, engaged in the Pentland Rising. It was ruthlessly crushed, and the Presbyterian element treated with increasing severity. On i\Iay 3, 1679, in belated retaliation. Sharp was murdered. This crime was speedily followed by an armed ris- ing of Covenanters ; but on June 22 the revolt was crushed at Bothwell Bridge and the captured insurgents treated with great cruelty. Six months later the King's brother, James — the later James II of England — was practically put in charge of Scottish affairs. The extremer and uncompromising Presbyterians were now a proscribed and hunted folk, known as Cameronians — from one of their leaders, Richard Cameron. The accession of James II, or VII, as he was numbered in Scotland, but intensified at first the repression of the Camer- onians. His first year was the "killing time" ; and the Parlia- 478 PRESBYTERIANISM ESTABLISHED ment of 1685 made death the punishment for attendance at a ''conventicle." James, however, soon pursued the same course as in England. He filled his council with Catholics, and in 1687 issued Letters of Indulgence granting freedom of worship. As in England, this release of Catholics from penalty aroused the hostility of all shades of Protestants. Episcopalians and Presbyterians were alike opposed; and when William and Mary mounted the throne of England they had many friends in the northern kingdom. Scotland was more divided than England, however. The Stewarts were Scotch, and though Episcopalians disliked the Catholicism of James they distrusted the Calvinism of "Dutch William," whom the Presbyterians favored. The Revolution triumphed, however, and on May 11, 1689, William and Mary became rulers of Scotland. In 1690 Parliament restored all Presbyterian ministers ejected since 1661, ratified the Westminster Confession {ante, p. 472), and declared Presbyterianism the form recognized by the government. This legal establishment of Presbyterianism was opposed by the Cameronian laity, who continued their hostility to any control of the church by civil authority and condemned the failure to renew the covenants, and by the Epis- copalians, who were strong in northern Scotland. The latter, however, though in the status of a "dissenting" body, were permitted by a toleration act of 1712, to use the English liturgy. In both England and Scotland the long quarrels between Protes- tants were, therefore, adjusted in similar fashion by toleration. SECTION XVII. THE QUAKERS One of the most remarkable products of the period of the civil wars in England was the Society of Friends, or Quakers. George Fox (1624-1691) was one of the few religious geniuses of English history. Born in Fenny Drayton, the son of a weaver, he grew up earnest and serious-minded, having "never wronged man or woman." At nineteen a drinking bout, to which he was invited by some nominal Christians, so disgusted him by the contrast between practice and profession that he was set on a soul-distressing search for spiritual reality. Shams of all sorts he detested. His early associates had been to some extent Baptist, and many of his later peculiarities are to be found among the Anabaptists of the Continent or were rep- GEORGE FOX 479 resented by the irregular sects of the EngHsh civil-war period. These were but the outward trappings. His transforming and always central experience came to Fox in 1646. He felt that Christianity is not an outward profession, but an inner light by which Christ directly illuminates the believing soul. Revela- tion is not confined to the Scriptures, though they are a true Word of God — it enlightens all men who are true disciples. The Spirit of God speaks directly through them, gives them their message, and quickens them for service. In 1647 Fox began his stormy ministry. Since God gives inner light where He will, the true ministry is that of any man or woman that He deigns to use. A professional ministry is to be rejected. The sacraments are inward and spiritual veri- ties. The outward elements are not merely unnecessary but misleading. Oaths are a needless corroboration of the truth- ful word of a Christian. Servility in speech or behavior is a degradation of the true Christian respect of man to man. Artificial titles are to be rejected — Fox did not deny legal titles like King or judge. War is unlawful for a Christian. Slavery abhorrent. All Christianity to be true must express itself in a transformed, consecrated life. Such a protest as that of Fox against tendencies to confine all divine revelation to the Scrip- tures or to the Fathers of early centuries was a wholesome and needed corrective to a one-sided interpretation of Christianity. Nor was its insistence on spiritual honesty less beneficial. The sincerity and spiritual earnestness of Fox's beliefs, his hatred of all that savored of formalism, and his demand for inward spiritual experience were immensely attractive forces. By 1652 the first Quaker community was gathered in Preston Patrick in northern England. Two years later the Friends had spread to London, Bristol, and Norwich. Fox's most eminent early convert was Margaret Fell (1614-1702), whom he married after she became a wadow, and her home, Swarthmore Hall, furnished a headquarters for his preachers. In the circumstances of English life such a movement met with fierce opposition. Before 1661 no less than three thousand one hundred and seventy-nine, including Fox himself, had suf- fered imprisonment. A missionary zeal w^as early manifested which sent Quakers to proclaim their faith to as far distant points as Jerusalem, the West India Islands, Germany, Austria, and Holland. In 1656, they entered INIassachusetts, and by 480 THE QUAKERS 1661 four had been hanged. There was some explanation, though no justification, for this severity in the extravagant conduct of a good many of the early Quakers, which would have aroused police interference in any age. These extravagances were made possible by the early want of organization, as w^ell as belief in the immediate inspiration of the Spirit. Fox saw the necessity of order, and by 1666 the main features of the Quaker discipline were mapped out, though in the face of considerable opposition. In that year "Monthly Meetings" were established, by which strict watch could be kept over the life and conduct of the membership. Before Fox died, in 1691, the body had taken on the sober characteristics which have ever since distinguished it. The laws against Dissenters at the Restoration bore with peculiar severity on the Quakers, since they, unlike the Pres- byterians and Congregationalists, made no effort to conceal their meetings, but defiantly maintained them in the face of hostile authority. About four hundred met their deaths in prison, and many were ruined financially by heavy fines. To this period, however, belongs their most eminent trophy and their great colonial experiment. William Penn (1644-1718), son of Admiral Sir William Penn, after inclinations toward Quakerism as early as 1661, fully embraced its beliefs in 1666 and became at once one of the most eminent preachers and literary defenders of the faith. He determined to find in America the freedom denied Quakers in England. After aid- ing in sending some eight hundred Quakers to New Jersey in 1677-1678, Penn obtained from Charles H the grant of Penn- sylvania, in 1681, in release of a debt due from the crown to his father. In 1682 Philadelphia was founded, and a great colonial experiment begun. The Toleration Act of 1689 (ante, p. 476) relieved the Quak- ers, like other Dissenters, of their more pressing disabilities, and granted them freedom of worship. PERIOD VII. THE TRANSITION TO THE MODERN RELIGIOUS SITUATION SECTION I. THE TURNING POINT The question has been much controverted whether the Reformation is to be reckoned to the Middle Ages or to modern history. Not a little may be urged in support of either posi- tion. Its conceptions of religion as to be maintained by ex- ternal authority, of the dominance of religion over all forms of educational and cultural life, of a single type of worship as alone allowable, at least within a given territory, of original sin and the essential worthlessness of the natural man, of evil spirits and witchcraft, of the immediacy and arbitrariness of the divine relations with the world, and of the other-worldliness of religious outlook, all link the Reformation to the Middle Ages. So, too, the problems primarily discussed, - however different their solution from that characteristic of the IVIiddle Ages, were essentially mediaeval. Sin and grace had been, since the time of Augustine, if not rather of TertuUian, the very heart problems of Latin theology. They were so of the Ref- ormation. However Luther himself might reject Aristotle, the older Protestant philosophy was thoroughly Aristotelian. Nor, though monasticism was repudiated, was the ascetic view of the world rejected, least of all by Calvinism. On the other hand, the Reformation broke the dominance of the sacramental system which had controlled Christianity East and West certainly since the second century. Baptism and the Lord's Supper were preserved and highly valued, but they were now regarded as seals to the divine promises, not as exclusive channels of grace. The Holy Spirit, who works when and how and where He will, uses them for His gracious purposes doubtless, but not to the exclusion of other means. Salvation is, therefore, a direct, individual, and personal relationship, wrought by God, bringing the soul into union with Him, needing no saintly or priestly intervention. Furthermore, man's relation to God is not one of debt and credit, of evil acts 481 482 THE BEGINNING OF THE MODERN PERIOD to be purged and merit to be acquired, but a state of reconcilia- tion of which good works are the natural fruits. Nor was the Protestant estimate of the normal relations and occupations of life as the best fields for service to God a less radical departure from the Middle Ages. These characteristics link the Reforma- tion with the modern world. Yet if one strikes a balance, and remembers, also, how largely the worldly tendencies of human- ism were suppressed by the Reformation, the movement in its first century and a half must be reckoned in great measure a continuance of the Middle Ages. Though great religious bodies still use Reformation formulas, and bear names then originating, they no longer move in its atmosphere, but in various measure indeed in that of modern Christianity. To assign an exact line of demarcation for this change is impossible. The alteration was not due to a single leader or group of leaders. It has modified Christian thought very unequally. The transformation has not yet been completed, after more than two centuries, if the Christian world as a whole is taken into view. It has been aided by a great variety of causes. One of these has been the steady secularization of government since the close of the seventeenth century. Even more important has been the rise of the professional, — other than clerical, — mercantile, and laboring classes to constantly increasing education and political influence. In the Reforma- tion age leaders of thought and sharers in government were few. Their number and independence have been steadily expanding. This growth has helped to bring about, and, in turn, has been aided by, an increasing toleration on the part of the state, which has made easy the enormous subdivision of Protestantism and the rise of many groups of thinkers not directly associated with, or opposed to, organized religion. Yet the most potent instruments in effecting this change of atmosphere have been the rise of modern science and phi- losophy, with the immense consequent transformations in out- look upon the universe and upon man's position in it; and the subsequent development of the historic method of examining and interpreting thought and institutions. THE RISE OF MODERN SCIENCE 483 SECTION II. THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY The early Reformation period conceived of the universe in Ptolemaic fashion. This earth was viewed as the centre about which sun and stars revolve. The Renaissance had revived in Italy Greek speculations of a heliocentric system, and these were elaborately developed by Nicolaus Copernicus (1473- 1543), of Thorn in Poland, and published in the year of his death. At the time, they excited slight attention and that mostly unfavorable. But astronomic science made progress. Tycho Brahe (1546-1601), though but partially accepting the Copernican system, multiplied observations. Johann Kepler (1571-1630), a Copernican, developed these into brilliant generalizations. Both were pursuing, though uninfluenced directly by him, the new method of Sir Francis Bacon (1561- 1626), by which inductive experiment was made the basis of hypothetical generalization. Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), of Pisa, gave to the world the thermometer, developed the pen- dulum, put mechanical physics on a new basis by experiment, and, above all, applied the telescope to the study of the heavens. To him the real triumph of the theory of Copernicus was due. But its explication, especially in his Dialogue of 1632, led to bitter philosophical and ecclesiastical opposition, and he was compelled to abjure it by the inquisition the year following. The real popular demonstration of the Copernican theory was, however, the work of Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727). His Principia of 1687 made a European sensation, showing as it did by mathematical demonstration that the motions of the heavenly bodies are explainable by gravitation. The effect of Newton's conclusions was profound. To thinking men, the physical universe no longer appeared a field of arbitrary divine action, but a realm of law, interpretable, such was the con- clusion of the science of that age, in strict terms of mechanical cause and effect. This earth was no longer the centre of all things, but a mere speck in a vast realm of bodies, many of infinitely greater size, and all moving in obedience to unchange- able law. While science was thus revealing a new heaven and a new earth, philosophy was no less vigorously challenging the claims of authority in the name of reason. Rene Descartes (1596- 4S4 DESCARTES AND SPINOZA 1650), a native of France and a Catholic, spent most of his active intellectual life in the Netherlands. There he wrote his Discourse on Method of 1637, his First Philosophy of 1641, and his Principia of 1644. To his thinking, only that is really knowledge which the mind fully understands. Mere erudition is not intelligence. The objects and ideas which present themselves to the mind are so involved and so dependent one on another that they must be analyzed and separated into sim- plicity to be really understood. Hence the beginning of all knowledge is doubt ; and no real progress can be made till a basis, or point of departure, can be found which cannot be doubted. That Descartes found, with Augustine, in his own existence as a thinking being. Even in doubting, "I think, therefore I am." If we examine the contents of this thinking I, we find in it ideas greater than it could of itself originate, and since nothing can be without an adequate cause, there must be a cause great enough and real enough to produce them. Hence we are convinced of the existence of God, and His relation to all our thinking. In God thought and being are united. Our ideas are true and Godlike only as they are clear and distinct with a logical clarity like the demonstrations of geometry. Matter, though equally with mind having its source in God, is in all things the opposite of mind. In the last analysis it has only extension and the purely mechanical motion imparted to it by God. Hence animals are merely machines, and the relations between human bodies and minds caused Descartes great perplexities. Yet, influential as the Cartesian philosophy was, it was not its details which profoundly affected popular thought, but its assertion that all conceptions must be doubted till proved, and that any adequate proof must have the certainty of mathe- matical demonstration. These two principles were to have momentous consequences. Much less influential in his own age though far more logical than their author in carrying Descartes's principles to their logical development, was the Netherlandish Hebrew, Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677). A pantheist, all is an infinite substance, all is God or nature, for with him the terms are equivalent, known in two modes or attributes, thought and extension, of which all finite persons or attributes are the expression. As to Descartes, to Spinoza clearness is the test of truth. LEIBNITZ 4S5 But lioio do men know? One influential answer came from the German mathematician, historian, statesman, and phi- losopher, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz (1646-1716), for the last forty years of his life librarian in Hanover, and an earnest seeker of the reunion of Catholicism and Protestantism. Unlike Spinoza, who saw in the universe one substance, Leibnitz be- lieved substances infinite in number. Each is a "monad," an indivisible centre of force. Each mirrors the universe, though the degree of consciousness in differing monads varies from practical unconscious to the highest activity. The greater and clearer the consciousness, the nearer the monad approaches the divine. God is the original monad, to whose perception all things are clear. All ideas are wrapped up in the monad, are innate, and need to be drawn out to clearness. Here again is the characteristic test of truth, which Descartes and Spinoza had presented. No monad influences another; but all that seems mutual influence is the working of pre- established harmony, like perfect clocks pointing to the same hour. Nor do the aggregations of monads which constitute bodies really occupy space. Each monad is like a mathematical point, and time and space are simply the necessary aspects under which their groupings are perceived. God created the world to exhibit His perfection, and therefore, of all possible worlds, chose the best. . What seems evil is imperfection, physical pain, and limitation, or moral wrong, which is never- theless necessary in the sense that God could not have made a better world. Leibnitz's answer was, therefore, that men know by the elucidation of their innate ideas. Very different was the answer given by the most influential English thinker of the close of the seventeenth and opening of the eighteenth centuries, John Locke (1632-1704). In his fa- mous Essay Concerning Human Understanding of 1690 Locke denied the existence of innate ideas. The mind is white paper, on which sensation writes its impressions, which the mind com- bines by reflection into ideas, and the combination of simple ideas gives rise to more complex ideas. Locke's purpose was to show that all that claims to be knowledge is justly subject to criticism as to its reasonableness judged by reason based on experience. Thus tested, he finds the existence of God dem- onstrated by the argument from cause and efi'ect; morality is equally demonstrable like the truths of mathematics. Re- 486 LOCKE AND SHAFTESBURY liglon must be essentially reasonable. It may be above rea- son — beyond experience — but it cannot be contradictory to reason. These views Locke developed in his Reasonableness of Christianity of 1695; the Scriptures contain a message beyond the power of unaided reason to attain, attested by miracles ; but that message cannot be contrary to reason, nor could even a miracle attest anything essentially unreasonable. Hence, though sincerely Christian, Locke had little patience with mystery in religion. For him it was enough to acknowl- edge Jesus as the Messiah, and practise the moral virtues which He proclaimed, and which are in fundamental accord with the dictates of a reason which is hardly distinguishable from enlightened common sense. Locke was no less influential as an advocate of toleration and opponent of all compulsion in religion. Religion's only proper weapon is essential reasonableness. Nor was Locke less forma- tive of political theory in England and America. He had in- deed been preceded in this field, in various directions, by Gro- tius (1583-1645), Hobbes (1588-1679), and Pufendorf (1632- 1694). In his Treatises on Government of 1690 Locke urged that men have natural rights to life, liberty, and property. To secure these, government has been established by the consent of the governed. In such a state the will of the majority must rule, and when that will is not carried out, or fundamental rights are violated, the people have the right of revolution. The legislative and executive functions should be carefully discriminated. The legislative is the superior. However inadequate and fanciful this may be as a historic explanation of the origin of the state, its influence in the development of English and American political theory can hardly be over- estimated. Of considerable significance in the theory of morals was the view developed by the earl of Shaftesbury (1671-1713) in his Characteristics of Men of 1711. Hobbes had attempted to find the basis of morality in man's constitution, but had dis- covered there nothing but pure selfishness. To Locke the basis which reason discovers is the law of God. Though en- tirely reasonable, morality is still positive to Locke, a divine command. Shaftesbury now taught that, since man is a being having personal rights and social relationships, virtue consists in the proper balancing of selfish and altruistic aims. This THE RISE OF DEISM 487 harmony is achieved, and the value of actions determined, by an inward "moral sense." Shaftesbury thus based right and wrong on the fundamental constitution of human nature itself, not on the will of God. This gave a reason why even one who rejected the divine existence — which was not the case with Shaftesbury — was nevertheless bound to maintain moral con- duct. It removed the hope of reward or fear of punishment as prime motives for moral conduct. Atheist and rejector of morality could no longer be considered, as they had generally been, equivalent terms. Nor was it difficult for Bishop Joseph Butler (1692-1752) to preserve Shaftesbury's "moral sense," while giving to it the theistic interpretation of "conscience," a divinely implanted monitor and judge of conduct. SECTION III. DEISM AND ITS OPPONENTS. SCEPTICISM Locke's test of truth was reasonableness, in the sense of con- formity to common sense. He viewed morality as the prime content of religion. The Newtonian conception of the universe was of a realm of law, created by a "first cause," and moving in unchangeable mechanical order. The new knowledge of foreign nations of long-established civilization and other re- ligions like the Chinese, enlarged men's horizons and made fa- miliar other than Christian culture. All these influences led to a radical departure in English religious thought, that known as Deism. As early as 1624 Edward Herbert of Cherbury (1583- 1648) had enumerated the articles of belief alleged to constitute natural religion, held by all mankind in primitive unspoiled simpUcity, as : God exists ; He is to be worshipped ; virtue is His true service ; man must repent of wrong-doing ; and there are rewards and punishments after death. To the later Deists these seemed a statement of the content of natural, universal reasonable religion. In 1696 came John Toland's (1670-1722) Christianity not Mysterious; 1713 saw Anthony Collins's (1676- 1729) Discourse of Freethinking; in 1730 was published Mat- thew Tindal's (1653?-1733) Christianity as Old as Creation. In these works the main features of the Deistic position were set forth. All that is acknowledged beyond or above reason is held on belief without proof. What is believed without proof is superstition. To be rid of superstition is to be free, hence the onlv rational thinker is a freethinker. The worst enemies 488 THE DEISTIC ARGUMENT of mankind are those who have held men In bondage to super- stition, and the chief examples of these are "priests" of all sorts. All that is valuable in revelation had already been given men in natural reasonable religion, hence "Christianity" — that is, all that is of worth in Christianity — is " as old as crea- tion." All that is obscure or above reason in so-called revela- tion is superstitious and worthless or worse. Miracles are no real witness to revelation; they are either superfluous, for all of value in that to which they witness reason already possesses ; or they are an insult to the perfect workmanship of a Creator who has set this world running by most perfect mechanical laws and does not now interfere with its ongoing. Deism thus seemed to destroy all historic Christianity and authoritative revelation. It was widely denounced as atheism, yet destruc- tive as it was, not justly. In the thought of its advocates it was a rescue of religion from bondage to the superstitious and a return to primitive rational simplicity and purity. From a modern standpoint the weakness of Deism is evident. Its primitive universal, rational religion is as much a figment of the imagination as the primitive unspoiled social and political state of the unspoiled child of nature so dear to the eighteenth century. Its assertion that "whatever is," that is, whatever is natural, "is right," is shallow optimism. It had no sense of the actual facts of the historic religious development of the race. Its God was afar off, a being who once for all established cer- tain religious principles, essentially rules of morality, and set a wonderfully contrived mechanical world in motion with which He has nothing now to do. Its merit was that it forced con- sideration of the fundamental reasonableness and moral worthi- ness of religious claims. So to criticise and to estimate it is to measure it by a standard entirely foreign to its age. Neither its supporters nor its critics could have viewed it from the standpoint here indicated. Deism called out many replies, and the chief proof of its power is that, relatively mediocre men as most of the Deists were, most of its opponents attempted to meet it by rational argument, often admitting a considerable share of its method, though not its results. Some few met it by a flat denial of any power of reason in the realm of religion. Such was the answer of the excellent Nonjuror William Law (1G8G-1761) in his reply to Tindal, entitled The Case of Reason (1732). BERKELEY AND BUTLER 489 Reason, Law argued, not merely does not find truth in religion ; " it is the cause of all the disorders of our passions, the corrup- tions of our hearts." God is above the power of man to com- prehend, "His own will is wisdom and wisdom is His will. His goodness is arbitrary." Less directly designed as an answer to Deism but believed by himself to be destructive of all "atheism" was the phi- losophy of George Berkeley (1685-1753), a man of most generous impulses, who attempted to found a missionary college in Ber- muda for the evangelization of the American Indians, lived for a time in Rhode Island, and in 1734 became bishop of Cloyne in Ireland. To Berkeley's thinking nothing really exists but minds and ideas. There is no other knowledge of what is called matter but an impression in our minds, and since like can only affect like, our minds must be affected only by other minds. Since ideas are universal and constant, they must be the product in our minds of a universal, eternal, and constantly working mind. Such a mind is God, and to Him all our ideas are due. But ideas exist not merely subjectively in our minds. In some sense what we call nature is a range of ideas in the divine mind, impressed in a definite and constant order on our minds, though their reality to us is only in our perception of them in our own minds. By thus denying the reality of matter Berkeley would destroy that whole conception of the world as a huge mechanism — a magnified watch — made once for all by an all-wise IMaker, who has nothing now to do with its ongoing, which Deism had held. For it he would substitute a universal constant divine spiritual activity. Though this con- ception of Berkeley has always enjoyed high philosophic re- spect, it is too subtle and too contrary to the evidences of his senses for the average man. More famous in its own time, yet of far less philosophic ability or permanent value, was a work of Joseph Butler (1692-1752), a Presbyterian by descent who had early entered the Church of England and become bishop of Bristol in 1738, and of Durham in 1750. His Analogy of Religion of 1736 was a work of immense labor, candor, and care. In answer to the Deists he starts from the premises, held equally by the Deists and their opponents, that God exists, that nature moves in a uniform course, and that human knowledge is limited. God is admittedly the author of nature ; if the same difficulties can be raised against the course 490 BUTLER AND HUME of nature as against revelation, the probability is that both have the same author. Their positive resemblances also lead to the same conclusion. Immortality is at least strongly probable. As present happiness or misery depend on con- duct, it is probable that future will also. Every man is now in a state of "probation" as regards his use of this life; it is probable that he is also now on "probation" as to his future destiny. Our limited knowledge of nature does not warrant a declaration that revelation is improbable, much less impos- sible, and whether there has actually been a revelation is a historic question to be tested by its attestation by miracles and fulfilment of prophecy. Believed widely in its time an unan- swerable answer to Deism, and as such long required in English and American universities, Butler's cautious balance of proba- bilities utterly fails to meet modern questions, and has been well criticised as raising more doubts than it answers. Its most attractive feature is its moral fervor in its exaltation of the divine regnancy of conscience over human action. A noteworthy attack alike on Deism and on much of the current defenses of Christianity against it was made by the acutest British philosopher of the eighteenth century, David Hume (1711-1776). Born in Edinburgh, he died in that city. He lived in France for some years, saw some public employ- ment, wrote a popular but highly Tory History of England, and won deserved fame as a political economist. During his last years he was regarded as the friendly, kindly head of the literary and intellectual circles of his native city. His philo- sophical system was ably set forth in his Treatise of Human Nature of 1739 ; but this rather youthful publication attracted little notice. Very different was it when the same ideas were recast in his Philosophical Essays of 1748 and his Natural His- tory of Religion of 1757. Philosophically, Hume was one of the keenest of reasoners, standing on the basis of Locke, but with radical and destructive criticism of Locke's theories and with most thoroughgoing religious scepticism. Experience gives us all our knowledge, but we receive it as isolated im- pressions and ideas. All connection between our mental im- pressions as related by cause and effect, or as united and borne by an underlying substance, are simply the inveterate but baseless view-points of our mental habit. They are the ways in which our minds are accustomed to act. What we really HUME ON MIRACLES 491 perceive is that in our limited observation certain experiences are associated. We jump to the conclusion that there is a causal relation between them. So, too, substance is "feigned." If therefore cause and effect are ruled out, the argument for a God founded thereon is baseless. The denial of substance leaves no real permanent I behind my experiences, and leaves no philosophical basis for immortality. Hume, in whom a dawning of historic criticism manifested itself, also held that history shows that Polytheism preceded Monotheism in human development, and thus history gives no support to the doctrine of the one originally recognized God of Deism, or to the exist- ence of the simple primitive, rational religion of nature which Deists claimed. Most of Hume's criticisms were too subtle and too radical to be very fully understood by either Deists or their orthodox opponents in his day, against whom they were equally directed. Hume's greatest sensation was his criticism of miracles, then looked upon as the main defense of revelation and Christianity. His argument was twofold. Experience is the source of all our knowledge. Our experience witnesses to the uniformity of nature much more strongly than to the infallibility of human testimony. Hence the probability that error, mistake, or de- ception has led to the report of a miracle is vastly greater than that the uniform course of nature has really been interrupted. Yet, granted that testimony may prove that unusual events have occurred, that would not prove that they established any- thing, unless it could be further proved that they were wrought for that special purpose by divine power, which is an even more difficult task. The positions here assumed have had lasting effect. Few who now affirm miracles view them, as the eighteenth century did, as the prime proofs of Christianity. Rather, the revelation is regarded as carrying faith in the mir- acles far more than their lending support to it. Those who accept miracles now largely regard the revelation as so super- natural and divine as to render miracles not unfitting as its accompaniment. Since Hume's criticism, the question of mira- cles has been increasingly felt to be one of peculiar difficulty. Deism, though soon a good deal weakened in England, still continued, and extended strongly beyond its borders. It aided not a little in the development of rationalism in Germany; but its most powerful influence was in France, where it had 492 DEISM ON THE CONTINENT many advocates and became fashionable. Chief of these French supporters was Francois Marie Arouet, or, as he called himself, Voltaire (1694-1778), who had become familiar with its tenets during a sojourn in England from 1726 to 1729. In Voltaire eighteenth-century France had its keenest wit. No philosopher, vain, self-seeking, but with genuine hatred of tyranny, especially of religious persecution, no one ever at- tacked organized religion with a more unsparing ridicule. Such a contest was, of necessity, more sharply drawn in France than in Great Britain. In the latter country a certain degree of religious toleration had been achieved, and great divergence of religious interpretation was practically allowed. In France dogmatic Roman Catholicism was dominant. The contest w^as, therefore, between Deism or Atheism, on the one hand, and a single assertive type of Christianity, on the other. Vol- taire was a true Deist in his belief in the existence of God and of a primitive natural religion consisting of a simple morality ; also in his rejection of all that rested on the authority of Bible or church. Of the extent and significance of his work in in- fluencing the French mind in directions that were to appear in the French Revolution there can be no question. Deism affected the eighteenth century widely. It was substantially the creed of Frederick the Great of Prussia (1740-1786); of Joseph II, the Holy Roman Emperor (Austria, 1765-1790) ; and of the marquis of Pombal (1699-1782), the greatest of Portuguese statesmen of the century. Nor was Deism less influential on this side of the Atlantic. Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) and Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) were its ad- herents. Deism had powerful popular presentation in the brutal, savage work of Thomas Paine (1737-1809), the son of an Eng- lish Quaker, whose Common Sense of 1776 did great service to the American Revolution ; nor was his Rights of Man of 1791 less effective in defense of the principles underlying the French Revolution. In 1795 came his Age of Reason, in which Deism was presented in its most aggressive form. Though unsparingly denounced, it left a series of followers, and represented a type of criticism of the morality of the traditional representation of the divine nature and dealings, on the basis of an uncritical and unhistoric treatment of the Scriptures, which found a belated echo in Robert G. IngersoU (1833-1899). GIBBON AND PALEY 493 A sceptical criticism on the early history of Christianity advanced by the historian Edward Gibbon (1737-1794) in the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of his great History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1776) deserves notice, not for its inherent importance, but for the controversy that it aroused, and the light that it throws on the thought of the time. In accounting for the spread of Christianity, Gibbon gave as reasons its zeal inherited from the Jews, its teaching of immortality, its claim to miraculous gifts, its strict morality, and its efficient organization. No modern historian would probably object to any of these explanations, as far as they go. What would impress him is their absolute want of compre- hension of the nature of religion, whether Christian or other, and of the forces by which religion makes conquests. But that was an ignorance equally shared by Gibbon's critics in the eighteenth century. The usual orthodox explanation had been that the first disciples had been so convinced of the truth of the Gospel bj^ miracles that they were willing to hazard their lives in its behalf. The excitement roused by Gibbon's rather superficial explanation was that it supplied other causes, less directly supernatural, for the spread of Christianity. Its one permanent result was to aid, with other influences, toward the historical investigation of the Scriptures and Christian origins, which was to be so largely the work of the nineteenth century. The general attitude of the period, and also the general ra- tionalizing of even orthodox Christian presentation in England, at the close of the eighteenth century is best illustrated in the work of William Paley (1743-1805). His Vieiv of the Evidences of Christiajiity of 1794 and Natural Theology of 1802 were written with remarkable clearness of style and cogency of reasoning, and long enjoyed high popularity. From a watch, he argues, we infer a maker, so from the wonderful adaptation of the human body, the eye, the hand, the muscles, we infer an almighty Designer. These arguments, therefore, prove the existence of God. God has made His will the rule of human action and revealed it to men. The purpose of revelation is "the proof of a future state of rewards and punishments." That revelation was given by Christ, and its convincing force to the first disciples was in the miracles by which it was accom- panied. "They who acted and suffered in the cause acted and suffered for the miracles." Paley then proceeds to defini- 494 EARLY ENGLISH ARIANISM tion. "Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." This prudential and self-regarding estimate of virtue is char- acteristic of Paley's age, as were his emphases on the evidential character of miracles and on a mechanical demonstration of the divine existence which the theory of evolution has since largely robbed of force. Yet it is pleasant to note that Paley's thought of "doing good to mankind" led him to strenuous opposition to human slavery. SECTION IV. ENGLISH UNITARIANISM It has already been pointed out that on the Continent anti- Trinitarian views were represented by some Anabaptists (ante, p. 369) and by the Socinians (ante, pp. 451-453). Both types penetrated into England. Under Elizabeth "Arian Baptists" from the Netherlands were burned in 1575. Under James I Bartholomew Legate and Edward Wightman, of similar views, have the distinction in 1612 of being the last Englishmen burned for their faith. With the controversies of the civil-war period anti-Trinitarian views became more evident. In John Biddle (1615-1662), an Oxford graduate, Socinianism had a more learned representative, who suffered much imprison- ment. The great Puritan poet, John Milton (1608-1674), in- clined to Arianism in his later years. Biddle's chief convert was Thomas Firmin (1632-1697), a London layman, who fur- thered the publication of anti-Trinitarian tracts. With the dawn of the eighteenth century, with its rational- izing impulses both in orthodox and Deistic circles, and its in- clination to see in morality the essence of religion, these anti- Trinitarian tendencies were greatly strengthened. The Pres- byterian minister Thomas Emlyn (1663-1741) published his widely read Inquiry into the Scripture Account of Jesus Christ in 1702. In 1712 Samuel Clarke (1675-1729), rector of St. James, Westminster, and deemed the most philosophical of the Anglican clergy, published his Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity, in which he sought to demonstrate Arian views by a painstaking examination of the New Testament. It was, however, among the Dissenters, especially the Presbyterians and General Bap- tists, that anti-Trinitarian views won the largest following. In 1717 Joseph Hallet and James Peirce, Presbyterian minis- ENGLISH UNITARIANISM 495 ters in Exeter, adopted Arianism. The movement spread widely. The most learned of eighteenth-century Dissenters, Nathaniel Lardner (1684-1768), was its representative. On the whole, the Congregationalists and the Particular Baptists were little affected, and in consequence grew in numbers as the century went on, surpassing the Presbyterians, who at the time of the Toleration Act had been the most numerous Non-Con- formist body. Arianism changed to Socinianism. A further impulse was given to the movement when a clergyman of the establishment, Theophilus Lindsey (1723-1808), who was already a Socinian, circulated a petition which received some two hundred and fifty signatures asking that clergymen be relieved from subscrip- tion to the Thirty-nine Articles, and pledge their fidelity to the Scriptures alone. Parliament in 1772 refused to receive it. In 1773 Lindsey withdrew from the establishment, and the next year organized a Unitarian Church in London. Closely associated with Lindsey was Joseph Priestley (1733- 1804), a Dissenting clergyman, an eminent chemist, the dis- coverer of oxygen, a sympathizer with the American and French Revolutions, who spent the last ten years of his life in Pennsylvania. Parliament in 1779 amended the Toleration Act by substituting profession of faith in the Scriptures for the required acceptance of the doctrinal part of the Thirty- nine Articles, and removed all penal acts against deniers of the Trinity in 1813. This older English Unitarianism was formal and intellectual, clear in its rejection of "creeds of human composition," and insistence on salvation by character. It was often intellectually able, but had little 'influence on pop- ular religious life. Its effect in producing a similar move- ment in New England was considerable, though that grew also out of the general rationalizing tendencies of the eighteenth century, and was on the whole less dryly intellectual than its counterpart in England. SECTION V, PIETISM IN GERMANY The development of a scholastic Lutheranism has already been noted {ante, pp. 441-444). Though nominally based on the Scriptures, it was practically a fixed dogmatic interpreta- tion, rigid, exact, and demanding intellectual conformity. 496 SCHOLASTIC LUTHERANISM Emphasis was laid on pure doctrine and the sacraments, as constituting the sufficient elements of the Christian life. In some respects the field had grown narrower than that of Roman Catholicism, for if Catholicism was equally dogmatic regarding belief and sacraments, it also laid an emphasis on good works, which dogmatic Lutheranism rejected. For that vital rela- tionship between the believer and God which Luther had taught had been substituted very largely a faith which con- sisted in the acceptance of a dogmatic whole. The layman's role was largely passive, to accept the dogmas which he was assured were pure, to listen to their exposition from the pulpit, to partake of the sacraments and share in the ordinances of the church, these were the practical sum of the Christian life. Some evidences of a deeper piety, indeed, existed, of which the hymns of the age are ample proof, and doubtless many in- dividual examples of real and inward religious life were to be found, but the general tendency was external and dogmatic. It was the tendency often, though only partially justly, called "dead orthodoxy." Pietism was a breach with these tendencies, an assertion of the primacy of the feeling in Christian experience, a vindication for the laity of an active share in the upbuilding of the Chris- tian life, and the assertion of a strict ascetic attitude toward the world. Many sources have been assigned to it, Anabap- tist influences, Roman Catholic mystical piety, the example of the Reformed ecclesiastical life of Holland or England. The subject is a difficult one. All these may have contributed something, but so far as a definite cause for Pietism can be given it is to be found in the teaching and example of one of the most notable religious figures of the seventeenth century, Philipp Jakob Spener. Spener was born on January 13, 1G35, in Rappoltsweiler, in Alsace. The True Christianity of the German ascetic mystic, Johann Arndt (1555-1621) roused him, and its impressions were deepened by translations of some of the edificatory treatises of the English Puritans. His student years in Strass- burg familiarized him with Biblical exegesis, and he saw there a church discipline and a care in catechetical instruction far beyond what was customary in most Lutheran circles. Further studies in Geneva deepened these impressions without weaning him from Lutheranism. In 1666 he became chief pastor in the SPENER'S AIMS AND WORK 497 prosperous commercial city of Frankfort. He felt the need of church discipline, but found himself hindered, because all authority was in the hands of the city government. Under such leadership as was permitted him, catechetical instruction speedily improved. His first considerable innovation occurred in 1670, when he gathered in his own house a little group of like-minded people for Bible reading, prayer, and the discus- sion of the Sunday sermons — the whole aiming at the deepen- ing of the individual spiritual life. Of these circles, to which the name collegia pietatis was given (hence Pietism), the first was that in Spener's home. These plans for cultivating a warmer Christian life Spener put forth in his Pia desideria of 1675. The chief evils of the time he pictured as governmental interference, the bad example of the unworthy lives of some of the clergy, the controversial interpretation of theology, and the drunkenness, immorality, and self-seeking of the laity. As measures of reform he proposed the gathering within the various congregations of circles — ecclesiolce in ecclesia — for Bible reading; and since all believers are priests — a Lutheran contention which had been practically forgotten — for mutual watch and helpfulness. Christianity is far more a life than an intellectual knowledge. Controversy is unprofitable. Better training for the clergy is desirable. An experimental knowledge of religion, and a befitting life should be demanded of them. A new type of preaching should be practised, designed to build up the Christian life of the hearers, not primarily controversial or exhibitory of the argu- mentative abilities of the preacher. That only is genuine Chris- tianity which shows itself in the life. Its normal beginning is a spiritual transformation, a conscious new birth. Spener also showed certain ascetic tendencies, like the English Puritans, inculcating moderation in food, drink, and dress, and rejecting the theatre, dances, and cards, which contemporary Lutheran- ism regarded as "indifferent things." Spener's efforts en- countered bitter opposition, and aroused enormous contro- versy. He was accused of heresy. Falsely so, as indicating any intentional departure from Lutheran standards ; but rightly so in the sense that his spirit and ideals were totally unlike those of contemporary Lutheran orthodoxy. His work involved a going back to the Scriptures from the creeds and theological interpretations of dogmatism. Spener's feeling that, if "the 498 SPENER AND FRANCKE heart" was right, differences of Intellectual interpretation were relatively unimportant, was not merely opposed to the Lu- theran emphasis on "pure doctrine," it was destructive of it. The two points of view were mutually exclusive. Spener un- doubtedly greatly popularized familiarity with the Bible, and undermined the authority of confessional standards, as giving in final logical form what the Scriptures had to teach. A result of this Biblical study was to prepare the way for, rather than to effect, an investigation of the nature and history of the Scrip- tures themselves. Spener greatly improved the religious in- struction of youth, and achieved his purpose of introducing a more strenuous, Biblically fed,and warmer popular Christian life. At Frankfort some of Spener's disciples, in spite of his pro- tests, withdrew from church worship and the sacraments. Spener's meetings consequently met with police opposition, and he was glad, in 1686, to accept a call to Dresden as court preacher. Meanwhile, the Pietist movement had spread to the Univer- sity of Leipzig. In 1686 one of the younger instructors, August Hermann Francke (1663-1727), and a few associates, founded there a collegium philobiblicum for the study of the Scriptures. Its members were at first instructors, its method scientific, and it had the approval of the university authorities. But in 1687 Francke experienced what he regarded as a divine new birth while in Liineburg and engaged in writing a sermon on John 20^'. A couple of months' stay with Spener, in Dresden, com- pleted his acceptance of Pietism. In 1689 Francke was back in Leipzig, lecturing to the students and to the townspeople with great following. Leipzig was soon in a good deal of tur- moil. An electoral edict soon forbad the meeting of citizens in "conventicles." LTndoubtedly Francke's lectures led some students to neglect other studies and to assume a critical at- titude. Under the leadership of the Leipzig professor of the- ology, Johann Benedict Carpzov (1639-1699), the university authorities limited Francke's work. Carpzov became one of the most unwearied of Spener's opponents. Francke's position became so uncomfortable that he was glad, in 1690, to accept a call to Erfurt as "deacon." Meanwhile Spener's path in Dresden was not easy. The Saxon clergy looked upon him as a stranger ; the two Saxon universities, Leipzig and Wittenberg, opposed him. His meet- THE UNIVERSITY OF HALLE 499 ings for spiritual upbuilding developed criticism. The Elector, John George III (1647-1691), took offense at Spcner's pastoral reproof of his drunkenness. When, therefore, an invitation to Berlin came from the Elector of Brandenburg, Frederick III (1688-1701), who was to become King Frederick I of Prussia (1701-1713), Spener willingly accepted it in 1691. Though Spener never won his new sovereign for personal Pietism, he had much support from Frederick, and his years in Berlin, to his death, on February 5, 1705, were his happiest and most successful. While in Berlin Spener was able to do his greatest service to Pietism. Christian Thomasius (1655-1728), a rationalist in the sense of Locke, a critic of the theological hair-splitting of the day, a creator of German jurisprudence, the first to sub- stitute German for Latin as the language of the university in- struction, a defender of religious toleration, a sceptic regarding witchcraft, the opponent of the judicial use of torture, had been driven from Leipzig in 1690 by the hostility of the theologians. His popularity in the student body was great. Thomasius was no Pietist, though he disliked the persecution of the Piet- ists, and had done his utmost to aid Francke in the contest with the Leipzig authorities. The Elector of Brandenburg, long desirous of having a university of his own, improved the exile of Thomasius to found a university in Halle, in 1691, which was formally opened in 1694, and in which Thomasius was to lead the faculty of law till his death. Meanwhile Francke had many diflSculties in Erfurt. His energetic introduction of Pietistic measures roused the oppo- sition of the clergy of the city. Carpzov's hostility pursued him, and in 1691 he was expelled by the authorities. Spener now procured for him from the Elector appointment to a pro- fessorship in Halle, and the pastorate of the neighboring vil- lage of Glaucha, and also the appointment of colleagues of Pietistic sympathies. From the first Francke dominated the theological methods and instruction in Halle, though he did not become formally a member of the theological faculty till 1698. Till his death, in 1727, Francke made and kept Halle a centre of Pietism. Francke was a man of unbounded energy and organizing genius. His parish of Glaucha was a model of pastoral faith- fulness. His lectures in the university were largely exegetical 500 PRANCKE IN HALLE. MISSIONS and experiential ; and his combination of the classroom and parish practice was highly helpful for his students. In 1695 he began a school for poor children, and such was its fame that children from outside were offered to him in such numbers that in 1696 he established his famous fitting school, the Poedagogium. To these, in 1697, he added a Latin school. These educational foundations were soon renowned, and all were managed in the spirit of Pietism. At his death two thou- sand two hundred children were under instruction. In 1698 he established his famous Orphan House, which numbered a hundred and thirty-four inmates when he died. All these foundations, most of which have continued to the present, were begun almost without means, and Francke sincerely be- lieved were maintained in answer to prayer. Gifts flowed in from all parts of Germany. Without doubting Francke's faith, it is but just to note that he understood the art of honorable publicity, and of enlisting friends. The number of nobles who were patrons of his foundations was really remarkable. One further foundation may be called almost his own. That was the Bible Institute, established in 1710 by his friend, Karl Hildebrand, Freiherr von Canstein (1667-1719), for the publi- cation of the Scriptures and their circulation in inexpensive form. The institute has done a noble work to the present day. One notable feature of these activities in Halle was the zeal for missions there aroused. At a time when Protestants gen- erally still failed to recognize the missionary obligation, Francke and his associates were awake to it. When Frederick IV (1699- 1730), of Denmark, wished to send the first Protestant mission- aries to India, in 1705, establishing them in 1706 in Tranque- bar, then belonging to Denmark, he found them among Francke's students in Halle, Bartholomaus Ziegenbalg and Heinrich Pliitchau. During the eighteenth century not less than sixty foreign missionaries went forth from the University of Halle and its associated foundations, of whom the most famous was Christian Friedrich Schwartz (1726-1798), who labored, from 1750 to his death, in India. Certainly Francke's name deserves high place on the roll of missionary leadership. By the time of Francke's death, in 1727, Pietism had passed its high-water mark. It produced no further leaders equal in ability to Spener and Francke. It continued to spread in Ger- many, notably in Wiirttemberg. A statistical estimate is diffi- RESULTS OF PIETIS^I 501 cult, as Pietists did not separate from the Lutheran Churches ; but Pietism undoubtedly affected Germany very widely and for good. It fostered a more vital type of piety. It greatly im- proved the spiritual quality of the ministry, preaching, and the Christian training of the young. It increased the share of the laity in the life of the church. It greatly augmented familiarity with the Bible, and the devotional study of the Scriptures. Its shadows were its insistence on a conscious conversion through struggle as the only normal method of entrance into the kingdom of God, its ascetic attitude toward the world, illustrated in Francke's severe repression of play among the children in his foundations, its censorious judgments on those who were not Pietists as irreligious, and its neglect of the in- tellectual elements in religion. It produced very few intellec- tual leaders. But, on the wdiole, the judgment on Pietism must be predominantly favorable. It did a service of great value for the religious life of Protestant Germany. One fruit of Pietism deserves notice in a contribution of value made to the interpretation of church history by one of the most radical of the Pietists, Gottfried Arnold (16G6-1714), a friend of Spener, for a short time a professor in Giessen, and thenceforward living in comparative retirement in Quedlinburg. Since the Reformation church history had been polemic and had regarded all thinkers as to be rejected whom the church of their own age rejected. In his V nyarteiisdie Kirchen und Ketzer-Historie of 1699 and 1700 Arnold introduced a new con- ception. Pie had read much of the ancient heretics. No man is to be deemed a heretic because his own age so deemed him. He is to be judged on his own merits, and even the views of so-called heretics have their place in the history of Christian thought. As is always a danger to a man who has conceived a fruitful idea, Arnold pushed his interpretation rather to the conclusion that there had been more truth with the heretics than with the orthodox. Yet he gave to church history a forward step of decided importance. SECTION VI. ZINZENDORF AND MORAVIANISM One of the most notable results of the Pietistic awakening, though far from approved by the Pietists in general, was the reconstitution of the Moravian Brethren, under the leadership 502 ZINZENDORF'S EARLY LIFE of ZInzendorf. Nicolaiis Ludwig, Graf von Zinzendorf, was born in Dresden, on May 26, 1700. His father was a high official of the Saxon electoral court and a friend of Spener. Zinzendorf's father died shortly after his son's birth, the mother married again, and the boy was brought up, rather solitary and introspective, by his grandmother, the Pietistic Katherine von GersdorfF. Even as a boy he was marked by the two traits which always characterized his religious life — passionate personal devotion to Christ and the conviction that God is only known as Christ, at least in Christianity. From the time he was ten till his seventeenth year he studied in Francke's Pcedagogium in Halle. Its rigor repelled him, but he gradually came to appreciate Francke's zeal, and his religious nature was quickened in 1715 in connection with his first communion. The insistence of his family that he should enter public employment sent him to Wittenberg from 1716 to 1719 to study law. Though a decided Pietist, his experi- ences in Wittenberg gave him a kindlier feeling than before toward orthodox Lutheranism. In 1719 and 1720 he took a long journey to Holland and France, forming the acquaintance of many distinguished men, and making his religious principles clearly, though tactfully, evident. On his return journey through Castell he fell in love with his cousin, but he thought Graf Heinrich XXIX, of Reuss, a more favored suitor, and resigned his pretensions, believing that God thereby had indi- cated some work for him to do. He ultimately married, in 1722, Graf Heinrich's sister, Erdmute Dorothea, who made him a most sympathetic wife. The wishes of his relatives led him to enter the electoral service in Dresden in 1721. Yet he was primarily interested in cultivating the "heart-religion," in the Pietistic sense, among his friends in Dresden, and even more on his estate of Berthelsdorf, about seventy miles east of Dresden, where as patron he appointed his like-minded friend, Johann Andreas Rothe, to the pastorate. Here in wholly unlooked-for fashion his life-work was to meet him. The old Hussite church of Bohemia had fallen on evil days. Part had found refuge in Poland, where it had long maintained its episcopal constitution, but finding the difficulties increas- ing, had preserved it by persuading Frederick Ill's Calvin- istic court preacher in Berlin, Daniel Ernst Jablonski, of the THE MORAVIANS 503 Polish Hussite church by ancestry and training, to accept ordination to the bishopric in 1699. The consequences of the Thirty Years' War to Bohemian Protestantism had been de- structive, and it had persisted in Bohemia and the neigh- boring province of Moravia only in concealment and under persecution. As early as 1722 the German-speaking Mora- vians began to seek a refuge in Saxony under the leadership of the carpenter, Christian David. Zinzendorf allowed them to found a village on his Berthelsdorf estate, which they named Herrnhut, and where they collected in considerable numbers. Zinzendorf at first paid little attention to these immigrants be- sides allowing them a refuge, but by 1727 he began their spiri- tual leadership. The task was hard at first. The refugees were divided, their aim was a separate church, while that of Zinzendorf and Rothe was incorporation in the Saxon Lutheran state church, though with special additional meetings as in Spener's plan of collegia pietatis. On the other hand, local customs permitted an organized village to give itself a secular organization and make its own rules. Under these customs Herrnhut chose "elders" for its secular direction in 1727. Zinzendorf, as lord of the estate, had a certain indefinite right of leadership, and all this was sealed by a communion service of such spiritual power in Berthelsdorf on August 13, 1727, that that date has generally been reckoned that of the rebirth of the Moravian Church. Out of these institutions for the leadership of the village of Herrnhut, originally secular, a spiritual organization soon grew. An executive committee of four developed from the eldership, and by 1730 was regarded as exercising ministerial functions. A general eldership was formed, of which the first holder, in 1733, was Leonhard Dober. To Zinzendorf the Herrnhut society soon seemed a body of soldiers of Christ, to advance His cause at home and abroad — a new Protestant monasticism without vows or celibacy, but bound to their Lord by daily prayer and worship. The young men and the young women were separated from ordinary family life by 1728, and each class placed under strict superintendence. Children were brought up away from their parents — after the manner of the Halle Orphan House. The community even attempted to regulate choices in marriage. The ideal was that of a community separate from the world, yet ready to send forces 504 MORAVIAN MISSIONS to work anywhere for Christ's kingdom. Yet two tendencies confused this development. The Moravian element would gladly have seen the establishment of a separate denomination, a full revival of the ancient Moravian Church. Zinzendorf clung firmly to the Pietistic idea of an ecclesiola in ecclesia. He would keep them part of the Lutheran state church, only a special group within it, where a warmer spiritual life, a "heart- religion," should be fostered. The movement soon met much opposition, not merely from orthodox Lutherans, but from Pietists, both by reason of Herrnhut's peculiarities, and as separatist. On the whole, the separatist tendencies slowly won the upper hand. The Moravian willingness to go anywhere in the service of Christ soon gave a noble missionary development to the move- ment which it has never lost. No Protestant body had been so awake to the duty of missions, and none is so consecrated to this service in proportion to its numbers to the present day. A journey to Copenhagen to attend the coronation of Chris- tian VI (1730-1746) of Denmark brought Zinzendorf into contact with natives of the Danish West India Islands and of Greenland. Zinzendorf returned to Herrnhut aflame with mis- sionary enthusiasm. As a result Leonhard Dober and David Nitschmann began a mission to the West Indies in 1732, and Christian David and others to Greenland in 1733. Two years later a considerable party, led by August Gottlieb Spangenberg (1704-1792), began labors in Georgia. For this outreaching work Nitschmann was ordained a bishop — the first of the mod- ern Moravian succession — by Jablonski in 1735. Meanwhile Zinzendorf 's relations with the Saxon government were becoming strained. The Austrian authorities complained, without ground, that he was enticing their subjects. Ecclesi- astical complaints were renewed, and on March 20, 1736, he was banished from Saxony. Zinzendorf found opportunity to carry on his work in Ronneburg in western Germany and in the Baltic provinces. In 1737 he was ordained bishop by Jablonski in Berlin. In 1738-1739 he journeyed to the West India Islands ; in 1741 he was in London, where Moravian work had been several years in progress. By December, 1741, Zin- zendorf was in New York, and on Christmas he named the set- tlement which Moravians from Georgia were beginning to effect in Pennsylvania, Bethlehem — a town destined to become THE MORAVIAN CHURCH 505 the American headquarters of the movement. Zinzendorf's sojourn in America was full of activities. He made great efforts toward a union of all the scattered German Protestant forces in Pennsylvania, he began missions to the Indians, he organ- ized seven or eight Moravian congregations and planted schools. Itineracy was established under the superintendence of Peter Bohler. In January, 1743, Zinzendorf sailed for Europe, and in December, 1744, Spangenberg was put in charge of all the American work as bishop. Its most famous Indian mission- ary was David Zeisberger (1721-1808), who worked among the Creeks of Georgia from 1740, and from 1743 to his death in labor for the Iroquois. Herrnhut thus became a hive of missionary activity. Mis- sions were begun in Surinam, Guiana, Egypt, and South Africa. In 1771, after repeated attempts, a permanent mission was established in Labrador. The names of its early mission fields show one characteristic of Moravian effort. They were pre- vailingly hard places, requiring peculiar patience and devotion, and this trait characterizes Moravian missionary labors to the present. Meanwhile, in spite of Zinzendorf's dislike of separatism, Moravianism was becoming more fully a church. In 1742 it was so recognized in Prussia by the government. By 1745 the Moravian Church was thoroughly organized with bishops, elders, and deacons, though its government was, and still is, more Presbyterian than Episcopal. The English Parliament by a law of 1749 recognized it as "an ancient Protestant Epis- copal Church." Yet Zinzendorf did not give up his theory of an ecclesiola in ecclesia. Negotiations with the Saxon authori- ties resulted in his recall from banishment in 1747, the accep- tance of the Augsburg Confession by the Moravian body the next year, and its recognition in 1749 as a portion of the Saxon state church, with its own special services. By this time Mora- vianism was developing a liturgy of much beauty and a hym- nody of large fulness. During the time of his banishment Zinzendorf and some of the Moravians developed certain theological and cultural peculiar- ities that were the source of deserved criticism. His emphasis on relation to Christ as the heart of religion took on sometimes a sentimental expression in word and hymn. Since Christ, to his thinking, was the Creator, our relation to God the Father is 506 MORAVIAN CHARACTERISTICS as to the Father of Christ. Since the Holy Spirit effects the new birth, the designation "Mother" seemed to him appropri- ate. Zinzendorf always made much of the sufferings of Christ, and brought Christian experience into connection with His wounds in a way that was at once fanciful and sentimental. Peculiarly was this the case with His wounded side. Zinzen- dorf pictured the church as drawn from the side of Christ as Eve from that of Adam. Zinzendorf's insistence that Chris- tians must become as little children to enter the kingdom of God led to much puerility of expression. These peculiarities were at the height of their manifestation between 1747 and 1749, but in large measure they corrected themselves. This period was called by the Moravians themselves "the sifting time." Zinzendorf himself ultimately largely turned away from them. Yet, at the most, they must be regarded as but blemishes on the character of one who could say of his devotion to Christ, as few can: "I have one passion. It is He." Zinzendorf's life from 1749 to 1755 was spent mostly in England. His property had been spent unstintedly for the Moravians, and he now found himself almost bankrupt. His debts were assumed, as was fitting, by the Moravian body, and gradually discharged. This financial need led to a growth in Moravian constitutional development. A collegiate director- ate was established, which soon became a board of control, by which Moravian affairs were superintended, and the taxes paid by the several congregations soon led to their representa- tion in a general synod, meeting at regular intervals. Zinzendorf's last few years were spent chiefly in pastoral activities. His strength had been lavishly spent, and he was bereaved of his wife and only son. On May 9, 1760, he died in Herrnhut. The Moravian Church, which Zinzendorf had done so much to renew and inspire, was firmly grounded, so that his death made no serious breach. It was fortunate, however, that its practical leadership fell to Spangenberg, who was called back from America to Herrnhut in 1762, and continued his guidance to his death, thirty years later. Not a man of genius and en- thusiasm like Zinzendorf, he was marked by equal devotion, great practical sense, and high organizing abilities. Under his strong, wise guidance Moravianism strengthened and grew; its criticised peculiarities were generally discarded. His work EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ENGLAND 507 was quiet and unpicturesque but wholly useful. The ISIo- ravian Church took its accredited place among the families of Christendom. It gained increasing good-will in Germany, though sufficient of Zinzendorf's ecclesiolw in ecclesia remained to prevent a rapid numerical growth in that land. SECTION VII. WESLEY AND METHODISM The condition of religion in England in the early part of the eighteenth century has already been described {ante, pp. 485- 491). The end of the struggles of the seventeenth century had been marked by a general spiritual lethargy in the estab- lishment and among Dissenters alike. Rationalism had pene- trated all classes of religious thinkers, so that even among the orthodox Christianity seemed little more than a system of mo- rality supported by divine sanctions. Butler (ante, pp. 489, 490) may stand as typical. His frigid probabilities may have con- vinced some intellects, but they can have led few men to action. There were able preachers, but the characteristic sermon was the colorless essay on moral virtues. Outreaching work for the unchurched was but scanty. The condition of the lower classes was one of spiritual destitution. Popular amusements were coarse, illiteracy wide-spread, law savage in its enforce- ment, jails sinks of disease and iniquity. Drunkenness was more w^ide-spread than at any other period in English history. Furthermore, Great Britain stood on the eve of the indus- trial revolution that w^as to transform it in the last third of the eighteenth century from agriculture to manufacture. James Watt (1736-1819) patented the first really effective steam-engine in 1769. James Hargreaves (?-1778) patented the spinning-jenny in 1770. Richard Arkwright (1732-1792) brought out the spinning-machine in 1768. Edmund Cart- wright (1743-1823) invented the power-loom in 1784. Josiah Wedgwood (1730-1795) made the Staffordshire potteries effec- tive from 1762 onward. The industrial and social changes, and problems consequent upon the changes, were of the widest importance, and of themselves involved readjustments of im- mense practical religious consequence. There were not wanting men and movements, early in the eighteenth century, looking toward better things. Bishop Berkeley's missionary zeal has already been seen {ante, p. 489). 508 THE RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES William Law was not only a vigorous opponent of Deism {ante, p. 488) but his Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life of 1728 profoundly influenced John Wesley, and remains one of the monuments of English hortatory literature, though it is to be feared now seldom read. The Congregationalist, Isaac Watts (1674-1748), long since forgotten as a theologian, has well been called "the founder of modern English hymnody." His Hymns of 1707 and The Psalms of David, Imitated in the Language of the New Testament of 1719 broke down the prej- udice on both sides of the Atlantic then existing in non- prelatical English-speaking circles against the use of all but rhymed passages of Scripture. They express a deep and vital piety. Some combined efforts of significance were being made for a warmer religious life. Such were the "societies," the earliest of which was formed by a group of young men in London about 1678, for prayer, reading the Scriptures, the cultivation of a religious life, frequent communion, aid to the poor, soldiers, sailors, and prisoners, and encouragement of preaching. They spread rapidly. By 1700 there were nearly a hundred in Lon- don alone, and they were to be found in many parts of England and even in Ireland. One of these societies was formed by John Wesley's father, Samuel Wesley, in Epworth in 1702. In many ways they resembled Spener's collegia pietatis (ante, p. 497), but they had no Spener to further them. They were composed almost exclusively of communicants of the estab- lishment. Many of the clergy looked upon the movement as "enthusiastic," or as would now be said fanatical, and after 1710 it measurably declined, though the "societies" were to continue and be of importance in the beginnings of Method- ism. These "societies" gave the pattern to a more outreach- ing work, initiated by Thomas Bray (1656-1730). Bray was appointed commissary of Henry Compton, bishop of London (1675-1713), m Maryland in 1696, and in 1699 and 1700 was in that colony strengthening Anglican churches. Impressed with the need of Bibles, libraries, and religious literature, he founded the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, on INIarch 8, 1699. Convocation supported it, and led to the foundation on June 27, 1701, of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, which was to develop into a great missionary society. Both have carried on their work in THE WESLEYS 509 Increasing measure to the present. Both were strictly Anglican and to the work of the latter-named the establishment of Epis- copacy in New England and its development in the American colonies were primarily due. Yet these efforts were at best local and partial in their influ- ence. The mass of the people of England w^as in spiritual lethargy, yet blindly conscious of sin and convinced of the reality of future reward and retribution. Emotions of loyalty to Christ, of salvation through Him, of a present transform- ing faith had not been aroused. It needed the appeal of vivid spiritual earnestness — directed to conviction of the heart rather than to considerations of prudence or cold logical argument. That a profound transformation was effected in England, the results of which flowed in beneficent streams to all English- speaking lands, was primarily the work of three men — the brothers John and Charles Wesley and George Whitefield — whose labors were to make England and America vastly differ- ent spiritually, and have put those lands permanently into debt to them. t The parents of the Wesley brothers were of Non-Conformist ancestry. Both grandfathers had been among the ejected clergy of 1662. Their father, Samuel Wesley (1662-1735), had pre- ferred the ministry of the establishment, and was, from 1695 to his death, rector of the rough country parish of Epworth. A man of earnest religious disposition, he was somewhat unprac- tical, a writer of a Life of Christ in Verse and of a commentary on the book of Job. Their mother, Susanna (Annesley), was a woman of remarkable strength of character, like her husband a devoted Anglican. The sons took much from either parent, but perhaps more of force from the mother. In a household of nineteen children, even if eight died in infancy, hard work and stringent economy were perforce the rule. Of this large brood John was the fifteenth and Charles the eighteenth. John Wesley was born on June 17, 1703, Charles on Decem- ber 18, 1707. Both were saved with difficulty from the burn- ing rectory in 1709, an event that made an ineffaceable iinpres- sion on the mind of John, who thenceforth regarded himself as literally "a brand snatched from the burning." In 1714 John entered the Charterhouse School, in London, and Charles the Westminster School two years later. Both boys distin- guished themselves for scholarship. In 1720 John entered 510 THE METHODIST CLUBS. WHITEFIELD Christ Church College, Oxford, whither Charles followed him six years after, and such was John's intellectual attainment that, in 1726, he was chosen a Fellow of Lincoln College. To become a candidate for that honor John must be in holy orders, and therefore, on September 25, 1725, he was ordained a deacon. With his ordination the spiritual struggles began which were to last till his conversion, in 1738, and perhaps in a sense beyond that time. From 1726 to 1729 John Wesley was for the most part his father's assistant. On September 22, 1728, he was ordained a priest. During his absence from Oxford, in the spring of 1729, Charles Wesley and two fellow students, Robert Kirk- ham and William Morgan, formed a little club, primarily for progress in their studies, but which soon engaged in reading helpful books and frequent communion. On his return to Oxford in November, 1729, John Wesley became the leader of the group, which soon attracted other students. Under his guidance it sought to realize William Law's ideals of a conse- crated life. Under Morgan's influence it began visitation of the prisoners in the Oxford jail in August, 1730. The members fasted. Their ideals were high-churchly. They were derided by the university. They were called the "Holy Club," and finally some student hit upon a nickname that stuck, the "Methodists" — though the name had been in currency in the previous century. They were very far as yet from what Methodism was to be. They were still a company painfully bent on working out the salvation of their own souls. As matters then were, they more resembled the Anglo-Catholic movement of the nineteenth century than the Methodism of history. An important accession to the club, early in 1735, was George Whitefield. Born in Gloucester on December 16, 1714, the son of an inn-keeper, he had grown up in poverty, entering Oxford in 1733. A severe illness in the spring of 1735 brought a crisis in his religious experience, from w^hich he emerged in joyous consciousness of peace with God. In June, 1736, Whitefield sought and received episcopal ordination, and at once, young as he was, began his marvellous career as a preacher. No Anglo-Saxon of the eighteenth century showed such pulpit power. A man absolutely without denominational feeling, in an age when such feelings were usually intense, he was ready WHITEFIELD. THE WESLEYS IN GEORGIA 511 to preach anywhere, and in any pulpit open to him. Sometimes censorious as to the genuineness of religious experiences unlike his own, his nature was in the highest degree simple and un- self-seeking. His message was the Gospel of God's forgiving grace, and of peace through acceptance of Christ by faith, and a consequent life of joyful service. His few printed sermons give little sense of his power. Dramatic, pathetic, appeal- ing, with a voice of marvellous expressiveness, the audiences of two continents were as wax melted before him. A large part of his active ministry was spent in America. In 1738 he was in Georgia. In 1739 he was back in America, and his preaching in New England in 1740 was accompanied by the greatest spiritual upheaval ever there witnessed, the "Great Awakening"; nor was his success less in the middle colonies, though there and in New England there was great division of feeling as to the permanent spiritual value of his work. The years 1744 to 1748 saw him again on this side of the Atlantic, once more in 1751 and 1752 ; again in 1754 and 1755. His sixth visit was from 1763 to 1765. In 1769 he came for his last preaching tour, and died in Newburyport, Mass., on September 30, 1770. He had given himself unstintedly to the service of the American churches of every Protestant family. He was no organizer. He left no party to bear his name, but he awak- ened thousands. None of the leaders of the Methodist Club was destined long to remain in Oxford, nor did their movement have much influ- ence on the university, which was then in scholastic and re- ligious ebb. The death of their father on April 25, 1735, whom John Wesley would gladly have succeeded, if possible, in Ep- worth, left the Wesleys less bound to home, and both now gained employment as missionaries to the new colony of Georgia, the settlement of which had been begun by General Oglethorpe, in 1733. They sailed in October, 1735. On the voyage they were unremitting in religious exercises and efforts for their fellow passengers; but in the ship was a company of twenty- six Moravians, headed by Bishop David Nitschmann. The cheerful courage of this company in a storm convinced John Wesley that the IMoravians had a trust in God that was not yet his. From them he learned much. Soon after reaching Savannah he met Spangenberg {ante, pp. 504-506), who asked him the embarrassing question: "Do you know Jesus Christ?" 512 THE WESLEYS IN GEORGIA. MORAVIANISM Wesle.y answered: "I know He is the Saviour of the world." Spangenberg responded : "True, but do you know He has saved you?" The Wesleys' labors in Georgia were strenuous, yet most un- successful. Charles Wesley returned home in disgust and ill health in 1736. John continued. He showed his marvellous linguistic abilities by conducting services in German, French, and Italian. In May, 1737, he founded a little society in Savannah for cultivating the warmer religious life. He worked indefatigably, yet with little peace of mind or comfort to others. He was a punctilious high-churchman. He lacked tact. A conspicuous case was that of Sophy Hopkey, a woman in every way suitable to be his wife. He gave her and her friends every encouragement to believe his intentions earnest, but he see- sawed up and down between clerical celibacy and possible matrimony. A vein of superstition always present in Wesley, which led him to decide important questions by the first verse of Scripture to which he should open, or by drawing lots, led him now to the latter method of decision as to the marriage. The lot fell adverse, and Wesley naturally aroused the resent- ment of the young woman and of her relatives. In a pique she married hastily another suitor. The husband objected to her continuance in attendance on Wesley's intimate religious dis- cussions, Wesley now felt that she was not making proper preparation for communion, and refused her the sacrament. No wonder her friends charged that this was the act of a dis- gruntled suitor. Wesley's influence in Georgia was at an end. Suits were started against him. He decided to leave the colony for home. On February 1, 1738, John Wesley was back in England. As on his outward voyage, he had feared death. In his bitterness of disappointment he could only say: "I have a fair summer religion." Yet he was a preacher of marked power, he had labored unsparingly. He had made a good many mis- takes, but they were not those which show lack of Christian consecration. Fortunately for their distressed state of mind, within a week of John Wesley's return both brothers were in familiar inter- course with a Moravian, Peter Bohler, delayed in London till May on his way to Georgia. Bohler taught a complete self- surrendering faith, an instantaneous conversion, and a joy in believing. But though before sailing Bohler organized a JOHN WESLEY'S CON\T.RSION 513 "society," later to be known as the "Fetter-Lane Society," of which John Wesley was one of the original members, neither brother was as yet at peace. That experience, his " conversion," came to Charles Wesley, then suffering from a serious illness, on ]\Iay 21, 1738. On Wednesday, May 24, the transforming experience came to John. That evening, as he recorded, he went unwillingly to an Anglican "society" in Aldersgate Street, London, and heard Luther's preface to the Commentary on Romans read. "About a quarter before nine, while he [Luther] was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me, that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death." Of the far-reaching significance of this experience there can be no question. It de- termined thenceforth Wesley's estimate of the normal mode of entrance on the Christian life. It was the light of all his theo- logic insight. Yet it was in some measure gradually, even after it, and by preaching and observing a similar work in others and by communion with God, that he entered into full freedom from fear and complete joy in believing. John Wesley determined to know more of the Moravians, who had helped him thus far. Less than three weeks after his con- version he was on his way to Germany. He met Zinzendorf in Marienborn, spent two weeks in Herrnhut, and in Septem- ber, 1738, was back in London. It was a happy visit for Wes- ley. He saw much to admire. Yet he was not pleased with all. He felt that Zinzendorf was treated with too great defer- ence, and that Moravian piety was not without its subjective limitations. Much as he owed to the Moravians, Wesley was too active in religious attitude, too little mystical, too outreach- ing to men in their wider needs, to be fully a IVIoravian. John and Charles Wesley now preached as opportunities offered, finding many pulpits closed to their "enthusiasm," and speaking chiefly in the "societies" in and about London. Early in 1739 Whitefield was developing a great work in Bris- tol, and there on February 17 he began preaching in the open to the coal miners of Kingswood. He now entered into friendly relations with Howel Harris (1714-1773), who had been work- ing with great success, since 1736, as a lay preacher in Wales. Whitefield now invited John Wesley to Bristol. Wesley hesi- 514 METHODISM ORGANIZED tated about field-preaching; but the opportunity to proclaim the Gospel to the needy was irresistible, and on April 2 he began in Bristol what was thenceforth to be his practice for more than fifty years, as long as strength permitted. Charles Wes- ley soon followed his example. While without Whitefield's dramatic power, John Wesley was a preacher with few equals in popular effectiveness — earnest, practical, fearless. Thence- forward he was to tour England, Scotland, and Ireland. At- tacked, especially in the early part of his ministry, in peril from mob violence, no danger could daunt him, or interruption could check him. Under his preaching, as under that of White- field, remarkable exhibitions of bodily excitement were fre- quent. Men and women cried out, fainted, were torn with convulsions. To both preachers these seemed the working of the Spirit of God, or the visible resistance of the devil. They are the frequent accompaniments of great religious ex- citement among the ignorant and uncontrolled, and the dis- favor with which they were regarded accounts for much of the opposition which these preachers encountered from the regular clergy. John Wesley's gifts as an organizer were pre-eminent. Yet the creation of Methodism was a gradual work — an adaptation of means to circumstances. In Bristol he founded in 1739 his first really Methodist " society," and began the erection of the first chapel there on May 12, 1739. Late that year he secured in London an old "foundery," which became the first chapel there. Thus far, in London, the Methodists had also joined in the Moravian Fetter-Lane Society, which Peter Bohler had founded in 1738 {ante, p. 513). Wesley's ideals were leading him away from Moravianism. This separation was increased when, in October, 1739, Philipp Heinrich Molther, just come from Zin- zendorf, asserted in Fetter-Lane, that if any man had doubts he had no true faith, and should absent himself from the sacra- ments and prayer, awaiting in silence till God should renew his religious hope. Such teaching found little sympathy from Wesley's strenuous activity. The Fetter-Lane Society was divided. Wesley and his friends withdrew and founded a purely Methodist "United Society" in the Foundery, on July 23, 1740. Wesley continued on friendly terms with some of the Moravians, but thenceforth the movements were indepen- dent of each other. METHODISM ORGANIZED 515 Wesley had no desire or intention of breaking with the Church of England. He did not, therefore, found churches, but took up into service the device of the long-existing "re- ligious societies," but these should now consist only of converted persons. These "societies" were from the first divided into "bands," or groups, within the society, for mutual cultivation of the Christian life. This was a Moravian device ; but experi- ence soon showed Wesley something more efficient. Soon after the Bristol society was formed Wesley hit on the plan of giving "society tickets" to those whom he found sufficiently grounded to be full members, and receiving others on trial. These tickets were renewable quarterly, and furnished a ready means of sifting the society. The debt on the Bristol chapel led to a yet more important arrangement. On February 15, 1742, the members were divided into "classes" of about twelve persons, each under a "class leader," charged to collect a penny weekly from each member. This system was introduced in London on March 25. Its advantages for spiritual oversight and mutual watch were soon even more apparent than its finan- cial merits. It soon became one of the characteristic fea- tures of Methodism, though the older "bands," also, long con- tinued. Wesley would have preferred to have all preaching by or- dained men, but few of the clergy were sympathetic with the movement. A lay preacher, Joseph Humphreys, was helping him as early as 1738 ; but extensive use was not made of this agency till 1742, when Thomas Maxfield became regularly the earliest of what soon became a considerable company. The growth of the movement developed other lay officers, "stew- ards," to care for property, teachers for schools, "visitors of the sick," for the duties which their names implied. At first Wesley visited all "societies," which were chiefly in the regions of London and Bristol, but the task soon became too great. In 1744 he had the preachers meet him in London — the first of the "Annual Conferences." Two years later the field was divided into "circuits," with travelling preachers and more stationary leaders to "assist chiefly in one place." Soon an "assistant," later caUed a "superintendent," was placed in charge of each "circuit." Wesley endeavored by suitable publications to aid the intellectual development of his lay preachers and secured study as far as possible. He tried in 516 WESLEY'S THEOLOGY vain to obtain episcopal ordination for them ; but would not allow the sacraments to be administered by unordained men. While Wesley stood theologically on the common basis of Evangelical doctrinal tradition and regarded his " societies" as part of the Church of England, two disputes led to considerable controversy. One was regarding perfection. Wesley believed it possible for a Christian to attain right ruling motives — love to God and to his neighbor — and that such attainment would free from sin. To Wesley's cautious and sober judgment this was an aim rather than a frequently completed achievement — however it may have appeared to some of his followers. No man was ever more positive than he that salvation evidences itself in a life of active, strenuous obedience to the will of God. A second dispute was regarding predestination. Wesley, like the Church of England generally of his time, was Arminian, but he had derived a special parental hostility to Calvinism, which seemed to him paralyzing to moral effort, Whitefield was Calvinistic. A hot interchange of letters took place between the two Evangelists in 1740 and 1741. Their good personal relations were soon restored in large measure. Whitefield found a supporter, in 1748, in Selina, countess of Huntingdon (1707-1791), a wealthy widow, a convert to Methodism, but far too dominant a character to yield to Wesley's insistent leadership. She would be her own Wesley, and, like Wesley, founded and superintended "societies" and chapels — the first in Brighton in 1761 — thus beginning the "Lady Huntingdon's Con- nection," She made Whitefield her chaplain. Her "Connec- tion" was Calvinist. In 1769 the predestinarian controversy broke out with renewed intensity. At the "Conference" of 1770, Wesley took a strongly Arminian position. Whitefield died that vear, but Wesley was fiercely attacked by Augustus Toplady (1740-1778), author of the hymn "Rock of Ages." Wesley was defended by his devoted disciple, the Swiss John William de la Flechere (1729-1785), who had settled in England and accepted a living in the establishment in 1760 (Fletcher of ]\Iadeley), where he was to do notable work. The effect of these discussions was to confirm the Arminian character of Wesley an Methodism. Yet "Lady Huntingdon's Connection" and these Calvinistic Dissenters must be regarded as parallel rather than as hostile movements. Their fundamental spirit was essentially the same as that of Wesley. METHODISM IN AMERICA 517 The Methodist movement grew enormously. John Wesley had many friends and assistants, but few intimates who shared his responsibilities. His brother Charles long had part in his con- stant travels, but Charles had not the iron constitution of John. After 1756 Charles itinerated seldom. He labored in Bristol, and from 1771 to his death on March 29, 1788, he preached in London. He was always more conservative than John, and more Anglican. His great service was as the hymn-writer, not merely of Methodism, but of all English-speaking Chris- tianity. John's unwise marriage to a widow, Mrs. Mary Vazeille, in 1751, was unhappy. He devoted himself all the more unreservedly to his work. Over all the multitudinous concerns of Methodism he exercised a wise but absolute au- thority. Naturally, as the "societies" grew and preachers mul- tiplied pressure rose for authority to administer the sacraments, this Wesley resisted long; but episcopally ordained men were few, and the force of events made the pressure irresistible in spite of Wesley's insistence that his movement was within the establishment. Methodism was carried to America by Philip Embury (1728- 1773), who began work in New York in 1766, and Robert Strawbridge ( ?-1781), who was laboring in Maryland about the same time. A vigorous early preacher was Captain Thomas Webb (1724-1796) of the British army. So promising was the work that, in 1771, Wesley sent over Francis Asbury (1745- 1816) — a most wise choice. These were all lay preachers. By 1773 the first American "Conference" was held in Philadelphia. Then came the storm of the Revolutionary War, but Methodism grew in spite of it. With peace, in 1783, dependence on Eng- land was no longer desirable, and the sacramental question was even more pressing than in England, as in many regions of the United States there were no Episcopal Churches to which the Methodists could resort. Wesley had tried in vain, in 1780, to procure ordination for clergymen for America from the bishop of London. He had long been convinced that bishops and presbyters in the ancient church were one order. He therefore, as a presbyter, felt empowered to ordain in case of necessity. At Bristol, on September 1, 1784, he and his intimate disci- ple, Thomas Coke (1747-1814), like Wesley a presbyter of the establishment, ordained Richard Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey as presbyters for America ; and the next day, " assisted 518 WESLEY'S ORDINATIONS by other ordained ministers" "set" Coke "apart as a superin- tendent" for the same work. This was, indeed, a breach with the Church of England, though Wesley did not then see it as such. His brother Charles disliked the act. The necessity was great, and no non-prelatical believer can blame Wesley. Regret has often been expressed that Wesley and the church of his affections were thus compelled to separate. It would have been of infinite advantage if some solution other than division could have been found; but in the existing state of ideals and organization it seems well-nigh impossible to conceive what adjustment could then have been proposed with success. Under date of September 10, 1784, Wesley notified his action to the American Methodists, and also informed them that he had appointed Asbury as well as Coke " superintendents." In December, 1784, Wesley's newly consecrated ministers held a "conference" in Baltimore, at which Asbury was ordained "elder" and "superintendent," and it was "agreed to form a Methodist Episcopal Church." By 1788 Coke and Asbury were called "bishops," and that title thenceforth supplanted "superintendent" in America. Once begun, Wesley in the course of the next few years ordained ministers for Scotland, Antigua, Newfoundland, and finally England. Another event of 1784 was of great importance. Wesley had been thus far the controlling force in Methodism. By a " Deed of Declaration," of February 28, he now provided that those who should preach in the chapels should be such as the "Conference" should recognize, and otherwise defined the pow- ers of that body. It was a great step toward the self-govern- ment of Methodism. Wesley's strength and activities continued unabated almost to the end. On March 2, 1791, he died in London, having done a work which had largely revolutionized the religious condition of the English lower and middle clasess, and was even more largely to affect America. SECTION VIII. SOME EFFECTS OF METHODISM The great Wesleyan revival was felt beyond the range of its nominal adherents. Its influence on the older Non-Conformist bodies was stimulating though very unequal. Their condition in the first half of the eighteenth century was one of decay. THE EVANGELICALS 519 Their leaders looked askance at Wesley and Whitefield at first ; but as the revival continued the younger men caught its zeal. This was especially the case among the Congregationalists, who profited most of all. Their preaching was quickened, their zeal revived, their numbers rapidly increased. Many acces- sions came to them from those awakened by Methodism to whom the Methodist discipline was irksome. Many came to them from parishes of the establishment. By 1800 the Con- gregationalists occupied a very different position in England from that of 1700. The Particular Baptists also shared in this growth, though to less extent, since their Calvinism was intense and antagonistic to Wesleyan Arminianism. The Gen- eral Baptists, in spite of a considerable leaven of Socinianism, also gained ^by the revival. They were divided — the General Baptist New Connection of 1770, being Evangelical. The Pres- byterians, on the other hand, were almost unaffected. Arianism and Socinianism were dominant among them. Their numbers dwindled. Nor were the Quakers much moved. Their noble humanitarian zeal was never more manifest, but the revi- val methods were too foreign to their spirit to make much im- pression. Wesley won many sympathizers in the establishment. These men were generally in agreement with his religious em- phases, on conversion, a confident faith, a religious life mani- fested in active work for others. On the other hand, they adopted few of his peculiar methods, and in general were marked theologically by an extremely moderate Calvinism rather than by his aggressive Arminianism. Whitefield was the spiritual father of many. They were never a body. They were rather a way of^thinking, and to it the name Evangelical or low- church was given. Conspicuous among these Evangelicals were John Newton (1725-1807), once a slave-dealmg shipmaster. Converted, he became one of the most helpful of preachers, first in Olney and then as rector of St. Mary Woolnoth in London. His hymns express his cheerful, confident faith. Thomas Scott (1747-1821), Newton's successor in Olney, was best known for his Family Bible with Notes — a commentary of immense popularity on both sides of the Atlantic. Richard Cecil (1748-1810) in later life was one of the most infiuential preachers in London. Joseph Milner (1744-1797) made Hull an Evangelical stronghold and won much influence through his 520 EMINENT EVANGELICALS History of the Church of Christ, continued after his death by his brother, Isaac, in which he emphasized the development of Christian biography rather than the disputes of Christi- anity. Isaac Mihier (1750-1820), was long a professor in Cambridge and aided in making the tone of that university largely Evangelical, a work which was continued there in power by Charles Simeon (1759-1836). Several not in clerical ranks were instrumental in the spread of Evangelical opinions. Such was William Cowper (1731- 1800), the greatest English poet of the latter half of the eight- eenth century, and Newton's warm friend. In Hannah IMore (1745-1833) Evangelicalism had a supporter personally ac- quainted with the literary, artistic, and theatrical circles of London, a writer of tracts and stories of unbounded popularity and herself of generous and self-denying philanthropy. Zachary INIacaulay (17G8-1838), father of the historian, was a deter- mined opponent of the slave trade. That evil had received John Wesley's severest condemnation. It had been vigorously opposed by the Quakers. Its most effective enemy was one of the most eminent of Evangelical laymen, William Wilber- force (1759-1833). Wealthy, popular, and a member of Parlia- ment, he was "converted" in 1784 through the instrumentality of Isaac Milner. In 1797 he published his Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians in the Higher and Middle Classes in thh Country Contrasted loith real Christian- ity. It proved one of the most popular of Evangelical treatises. In 1787 he began his lifelong battle with slavery, resulting in the abolition of the slave trade in 1807, and of slavery itself throughout the British dominions in 1833. The Methodist movement was forward-looking in its philan- thropic sympathies, and the Evangelicals shared this trait. IVIethodism, under Wesley's leadership, sought to aid its poorer members financially, to provide work, to care for the sick, to furnish schools and cheap reading, and to overcome the coarse- ness and brutality of the lower classes. The awakening of the new spirit of humanitarianism had one of its noblest illustrations in John Howard (1720-1790), a quiet, religious, country landlord, interested in schools and model cottages, a worshipper in Congregational and Baptist congre- gations; Howard was chosen high sheriff of Bedford in 1773. He was inexpressibly shocked at the moral and physical filth NEW RELIGIOUS AGENCIES 521 of the jails, their officers supported by what they could wring from the prisoners, not by salaries; no proper separation of prisoners, no release for those acquitted till their fees were dis- charged. Thorough in all that he did, Howard visited prac- tically all the jails of England, and laid the horrible results before Parliament in 1774. He then did a similar work for Scotland, Ireland, and the Continent. Much remained to be done, but he deserves the title of the "father of prison reform.'* His last years were devoted to equally self-sacrificing efforts to ascertain methods to prevent the spread of the plague. His devotion cost him his life in southern Russia. The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge had been founded in 1699 {ante, p. 508), but the revival movement gave a great impulse to the diffusion of Christian literature. Wesley made that one of his chief agencies, publishing constantly. In 1799 the interdenominational Religious Tract Society was formed in London. Even earlier, in 1789, the Methodist Book Concern had been founded on this side of the Atlantic. The New York Religious Tract Society, which was to be merged with other local organizations into the American Tract Society, was begun in 1812. Pietism had set the example of extensive and cheap publication of the Bible through Baron Canstein's great foundation in Halle, in 1710 {ante, p. 500). In 1804 the Brit- ish and Foreign Bible Society was founded in London through the efforts of Evangelicals. Ireland and Scotland soon fol- lowed; in 1808 the first of a series of local societies was or- ganized in Philadelphia, and out of consolidation the American Bible Society came into existence in 1816. By their work the present enormous diffusion of the Scriptures has been made possible. Some form of religious teaching of children is probably as old as organized religion, and the Reformation age made much of catechetical instruction. Though attempts were made even ear- lier, the first systematic and successful efforts to reach the poor and unschooled with a Christian training on a large scale were in the Sunday schools, founded in 1780 by Robert Raikes (1735-1811), an Evangelical layman of the establishment, of Gloucester. In the absence of public education, he sought to give the ignorant training in the three " R's," and in Christian fundamentals by means of paid teachers, on the only day, Sunday, when the children were free. Attendance at church 522 THE SUNDAY SCHOOL was also required. Raikes was proprietor of the Gloucester Journal, which pubHshed accounts of these activities. The work spread with great rapidity. Wesley and the Non- Conformists favored them. A Society for Promoting Sunday Schools throughout the British Dominions, was organized in London in 1785. A similar society was formed in Philadelphia in 179L Though the growth of the movement was as rapid as it was permanent, it was not without clerical opposition, partly on account of its novelty and partly as a desecration of Sunday. The secular instruction rapidly decreased, and the paid teacher gave place to the voluntary leader. No Christian agency has become more fully part of normal modern church life. SECTION IX. THE MISSIONARY AWAKENING The development of Roman Catholic missions In the Reforma- tion age was rapid and fruitful (pp. 429, 430, 565). Lack of geographical contact with heathen lands and internal problems prevented any equivalent Protestant efforts. With Dutch conquests work was begun in Ceylon, Java, and Formosa in the seventeenth century. The first English foreign missionary organization, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in New England, came into existence by act of Parliament in 1649, in response to the efforts among the Massachusetts Indians of John Eliot (1604-1690). At its expense his Indian Bible and other works, were printed. The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts was organized in 1701 {ante, p. 508). German Pietism produced the Halle- Danish missions from 1705 onward {ante, p. 500). In 1732 the notable missionary career of the Moravians began {ante, p. 504). Quakers had made some missionary efforts. Interest in non-Christian peoples was aroused in Great Britain by the voyages of discovery in the Pacific, under government auspices, conducted by Captain James Cook (1728- 1779), from 1768 to his death. These discoveries awakened the missionary zeal of William Carey (1761-1834), a shoemaker, then a Baptist preacher, and who was to show himself a man of remarkable talents as a linguist and a botanist, as well as of unquenchable missionary devotion. The result of his thought was his Enquiry into the Qhlifjation of Christians to use Means for the Conversion of the Heathens of 1792. In October of that THE MISSIONARY AWAKENING 523 year this book and Carey's sermon on Isaiah 54^- •"' induced the organization of the Baptist Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Heathen. Carey was its first missionary, and his letters from India proved a powerful stimulus to other missionary endeavor. In 1795 the London Missionary Society was formed, as an interdenominational enterprise, largely through the efforts of David Bogue (1750-1825), a Congrega- tional minister of Gosport, and of Thomas Haweis (1734-1820), the Evangelical rector of Aldwinkle. Its first missionaries were sent in 1796 to Tahiti. It has long been Congregational. The growing sense of missionary obligation led in 1799 to the organization of the Chiu-ch Missionary Society, representative of the Evangelical wing of the establishment, through the agency of John Venn (1759-1813), rector of Clapham, and Thomas Scott, editor of the Family Bible. This deepening of English missionary obligation roused in- terest widely in other lands. In the United States news of these efforts aroused the zeal of a group of students in Williams College, among whom Samuel J. Mills, Jr. (1783-1818), was leader, and resulted in the formation in 1810 of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions — originally in- terdenominational, but long since essentially Congregational. Its first missionaries were sent to India in 1812. In 1814 the American Baptist Missionary Union came into being?- The Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society of England was founded in 1813, and its American Methodist counterpart in 1819. The Dutch Reformed and Presbyterian Chiu-ches of the United States, which had co-operated with the American Board, formed their own organizations in 1835 and 1837. x4fter small local beginnings in Scotland, as early as 1796, the Church of Scotland Mission Boards came into being in 1825. i On the Continent the Basel Evangelical Missionary Society dates from 1815 ; the Danish Missionary Society from 1821 ; the Berlin Society from 1824 ; and that of Paris from the same year. The nineteenth century witnessed a constant extension of missionary activities, Protestant and Catholic, a more per- vading sense of missionary obligation, and a constant increase in the number of those men and women who thus consecrate themselves to the spread of the Gospel. No greater change has taken place in the religious life of the last century and a half than the general diffusion of the spirit of missions. 524 THE "ENLIGHTENMENT" SECTION X. THE GERMAN ENLIGHTENMENT (aUFKLARUNG) England had well advanced in Its Delstic, rationalistic, and Unitarian development before the rise of Methodism. There the two streams long ran parallel. If IMethodism, theologically, was a return to older doctrinal conceptions, it was even more an appeal to the strong, deep religious feelings of the nation. In Germany Pietism, with its emphasis on feeling, preceded the Enlightenment (Aufklarung), though continuing to run parallel to the latter movement when that developed. The Enlightenment in Germany was sure to come. Pietism had broken the grasp of confessional orthodoxy, but it had raised up no theological leaders to take the intellectual place of the older dogmatic theologians. The eighteenth century, with its critical rationalistic spirit ; the works of the English Deists and their opponents; and the radical popular modification of Deism in France, necessarily invaded Germany and found the intellectual field vacant, through the discrediting of confessional orthodoxy and the constructive inefficiency of Pietism. The result was the rapid growth of the Enlightenment, as it styled itself. To call it rationalism is not quite just, though that it largely became. It represented many shades. Its chief im- portance is that, more than in England or in France, by its critica;l and constructive work it prepared the way for a great reconstruction in theology, which, in the nineteenth century, was to spread widely throughout Protestant lands. Leibnitz's speculations (ante, p. 485) were too deep to pro- duce a profound impression on his own age, though later they were of powerful effect. Thomasius (ante, p. 499) spread a rationalistic spirit, without working out a system. His influ- ence was marked in developing an attitude of mind, so that he has not untruly been described as the "road-breaker of the Enlightenment." Its great protagonist, however, was Chris- tian Wolff (1679-1754). Not a creative genius, it was Wolff's fortune so to embody and give expression to the unformed and inarticulate thought of his age, as to become the philosophical and theological leader of two generations of his countrymen. Skilled in mathematics, like most of the philosophers of his and the preceding century, he began lecturing on mathematics in Halle in 1707. Here his philosophy rapidly developed, in close connection with that of Leibnitz, whose deeper thoughts, how- CHRISTIAN WOLFF 525 ever, he never grasped. That alone is true, WolfT held, which can be demonstrated by logical certainty akin to mathematics. Truth must thus rationally be deduced from the innate contents of the mind — the "pure reason." All that comes by experience is merely contingent and confirmatory. The world is composed of an infinite multitude of simple substances, each endowed with force, though not with all the qualities of Leibnitz's monads (ante, p. 485). Bodies are aggregations of these sub- stances. The world is a huge machine, ruled by mechanical laws. The soul is that in us which is conscious of itself and of other objects. It is endowed with capacities of knowledge and desire. Their completeness of fulfilment is pleasure, their in- completeness, pain. Since the world is contingent, it must have a cause. Hence God exists and has made the world. The laws of all rational thinking and acting give us the divine attributes. Since com- pleteness is the highest aim of all being, all that aims at the completeness of ourselves and other men must be virtue. Hence the principles of right action are embodied, as with the Deists, in the fundamental divinely appointed constitution of man. Wolff did not deny that there might be revelation, though, if so, it could contain nothing not in agreement with reason ; nor are miracles impossible, though improbable, and each would imply two acts of equal power, the interruption of the order of nature and its restoration after the event. Wolff's view of man was optimistic. • He is going on individually, and socially, to larger completeness. Here was a breach with the older theology, both of orthodoxy and of Pietism, and one that came to its age with the conclusiveness of a logical demonstra- tion. God, natural religion, originally implanted morality, and progress toward individual and racial perfection, not super- natural revelation or supernatural rescue from sin and ruin, are the proper objects of religious regard, even if Wolff allows a little standing room to revelation and miracle. Nor is man the hopeless or incapable being of the older theology. Wolff's views aroused the hostility of his Pietistic colleagues in Halle. They procured from King Frederick William I (1713-1740) his removal. The royal sentence was even to them surprisingly strenuous. Wolff was ordered, in 1723, to leave the university within forty-eight hours, or be hanged. He found a refuge in Marburg, and was^honorably restored to 526 MOSHEIM. REIMARUS Halle In 1740 by Frederick the Great. His work had, how- ever, become common property, and he added little to his achievements during the fourteen years in Halle till his death. His thought had become that of a large section of Germany. The sway of Pietism in Halle was over. Less radical, but influential in aiding the new attitude of German thought, was Johann Lorentz von Mosheim (1694?- 1755), professor in Helmstiidt and finally in Gottingen. The most admired preacher of his time, master of a style of brilliancy in Latin or in German, his influence was essentially latitudi- narian. He had no sympathy with the dogmatism of the or- thodox. The emphases of the Pietists awakened no response in him ; nor could he support the extreme rationalism of Wolff. He touched most fields of religious thought, and his influence, on the whole, favored the spread of the Enlightenment. His chief service was in the field of history. His Institutiones, first issued in 1726 and in final form in 1755, embraced the whole story of the church. In his Commentarii de rebus Christianorum ante Constantinum of 1753, he treated the earlier centuries in ampler fashion. Mosheim well deserves the name of "the father of modern church history." He desired to be free of all partisan bias, and succeeded in remarkable measure at the expense of some colorlessness. His is the first church history which aimed to tell events exactly as they happened, without a cause to defend. As such, and by reason of its learning and style, his work long survived his death. More extreme rationalism soon found its representatives in Germany. Hermann Samuel Reimarus (1694-1768), long a highly reputed professor of Oriental languages in Hamburg, and the leader in scholarly circles there, had travelled in England in early life, and had there adopted Deist views, in defense of which he wrote much, though his works were not issued till after his death, when they were put forth by Lessing between 1774 and 1778 as fragments found in the library of Wolfen- biittel — hence Wolfenhiittel Fragments, the publication of which aroused immense discussion. As with the Deists, all that is true is that natural religion which teaches the existence of a wise Creator, a primitive morality, and immortality — all ascer- tainable by reason. The world itself is the only miracle and the only revelation — all others are impossible. The writers of the Bible were not even honest men, but were moved by fraud LESSING 527 and selfishness. It is a curious commentary on the condition of thought in Germany that Reimarus's writings, though widely criticised, were no less valued by others as a defense of religion against materialism and atheism. Gotthold Ephraim Lessmg (1729-1781), to whom the publi- cation of Reimarus's religious writings was due, eminent as a dramatist and a literary and artistic critic, himself ranking as a German classic writer with Goethe and Schiller, though not agreeing wholly with Reimarus, presented in his Education of the Human Race of 1780 a theory of much plausibility. As the individual passes through the successive stages of childhood, youth, and manhood, so does the race. The Scriptures have been given by God to meet these needs. Childhood is moved by immediate rewards and punishments. For men in that condition the Old Testament is a divine book of training, with its promises of long life and temporal blessings for obedience. Youth is ready to sacrifice present ease and lesser goods for future success and happiness. For it, or for men in that state, the New Testament with its present self-surrender and eternal rewards is a fitting guide. But manhood is ruled by duty, without hope of reward or fear of punishment as its motives. Its guide is reason, though perhaps God may yet send some further revelation as its aid. Lessing's work spread wide the feeling in educated Germany that the historic Christian re- ligion belonged to a past or to an inferior present stage of human development. The effect of the Enlightenment was a wide diffusion of the views that what alone were valuable in the Scriptures were the truths of natural religion and its morality, divested of miracle or the supernatural. Jesus was a moral teacher rather than a personal centre of faith. This was rationalism, and was char- acteristic of much of the strongest theological thinking of Ger- many by 1800, and was to continue powerful in the nineteenth century. Side by side with it, confessional orthodoxy and Pietism continued, though with decreasing intellectual appeal, and much, also, which may be called semi-rationalism. Yet the age was characterized, also, by vigorous polemic against superstitions, and a large development of voluntary and popular beneficence, and provision for popular education. The eighteenth century was also marked, and nowhere more than in Germany, by the development of textual and historical 528 BIBLICAL SCHOLARSHIP studies of the Bible which initiated the modern period of criti- cism. The EngHsh scholar, John Mill (1645-1707), published a Greek Testament, based on a careful collation of manu- scripts, in the year of his death. Jean le Clerc (1657-1736), brought up in Geneva, later an Arminian in Amsterdam from 1684 to his death, won fame as an exegete, through his attempts to explain the teaching of the Scriptures without dogmatic prepossessions — approaching them not to discover proof texts, but their actual meaning. Johann Albrecht Bengel (1687- 1752), long head of the theological seminary in Denkendorf, in Wiirttemberg, a man of Pietistic leanings, was the first to recognize that New Testament manuscripts may be grouped in families, and to establish the generally accepted critical canon that a more difficult reading is to be preferred. His Gnomon, or Index, of the New Testament, of 1742, was the most remarkable commentary thus far produced. Nothing, he de- clared, should be read into the Scripture, and nothing there contained omitted, which could be drawn out by the most rigid application of grammatical principles. Wesley made it the basis of his Notes upon the New Testament of 1755. Con- temporaneously Johann Jakob Wettstein (1693-1754), of Basel and Amsterdam, spent nearly a lifetime of labor on his Greek New Testament ivith Various Reading, published in 1751-1752. Textual criticism and sound exegesis were thus given a great advance. To Jean Astruc (1684-1766), royal professor of medicine in Paris, was due the announcement, in his Conjectures of 1753, of the composite character of Genesis. The theory won essen- tial support in 1781 from Johann Gottfried Eichhorn (1752- 1827), later the rationalistic professor in Gottingen, often called " the founder of Old Testament criticism," but it is only in the latter part of the nineteenth century that Astruc' s discovery won extensive recognition. In Johann August Ernesti (1707-1781), professor in Leipzig from 1742, Germany had a teacher who not only aided greatly that awakening of classical thought and ideals which affected German intellectual life in the closing years of the eighteenth century, but one who carried to New Testament interpretation the same principles which he applied to classical literature. The meaning is to be ascertained by the same grammatical and historical methods in the one field as in the other. Reimarus REIMARUS AND SEMLER 529 (ante, p. 526), in his seventh Fragment, published by Lessing in 1778, for the first time subjected the Ufe of Christ to rigid historic methods, Hke those applied to secular history. His total rejection of the supernatural, the mythical, or the legen- dary left his results barren enough, but he raised questions of method and conclusion which have constituted the problems of this investigation, in large measure, ever since. Johann Salomo Semler (1725-1791), professor in Halle from 1752, was of Pietistic training, though in manhood a conservative ration- alist. His importance was in the paths he indicated rather than in the results he achieved. He distinguished between the permanent truths in Scripture and the elements due to the times in which the several books were written. He denied the equal value of all parts of Scripture. Revelation, he taught, is in Scripture, but all Scripture is not revelation. The creeds of the church are a growth. Church history is a development. In particular he made a distinction between Petrine, Judaizing parties, in the early church, and Pauline, anti-Judaic, that was to play a great role in later discussions. SECTION XI. ROMANTICISM Nothing seemed more characteristic of the earlier half of the eighteenth century than the dominance of "reason," or common sense. The age was unemotional, intellectual. It did a remarkable work in questioning that which had been ac- cepted on tradition, in sweeping away ancient superstitions and abuses, and demanding the rightfulness of that which claimed authority. But it was cold and one-sided. It was met, as the eighteenth century went on, by an immense opposi- tion. The claims of feeling asserted themselves, voiced in a "return to nature," that was too often a nature conjured up by the imagination, but accompanied by a renewed appreciation of the classical and the mediaeval, and the revival of a sense of the supernatural in religion, often vague and obscure, but creating a totally different atmosphere in which man's claims as a feeling, rather than as a purely thinking, being were asserted. Its most effective apostle was Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712- 1778) ; but the movement was manifested throughout Europe. Nowhere was it more evident than in Germany. Lessmg shared 530 IMMANUEL KANT it. Its most conspicuous literary representatives there were Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) and Johann Chris- toph Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805). The older ration- alism was not, indeed, swept from the field, but a totally differ- ent habit of thought contended on more than equal terms for the mastery — that of Romanticism. Philosophy, in the eighteenth century, had seemed to lead to no thoroughfare. Leibnitz had taught that all knowledge was an elucidation of that which was wrapped up innate in the monad. Wolff had aflBrmed the power of "pure reason" to give the only certainties. On the other hand, Locke had taught that all comes by experience, and though Hume had pushed to scepticism all conclusion based on cause and sub- stance, he had viewed, like Locke, all knowledge as founded on experience. The British and the German tendencies were ap- parently mutually destructive. It was to be the work of Kant to combine and supersede both, on a new basis which should be the starting-point of modern philosophy, and to give a value to feeling which neither earlier parties had recognized. Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) was a native of Konigsberg, where»all his life was spent. His paternal ancestry, he believed, was Scotch. His earliest influences w^ere Pietist. In 1755 Kant became a teacher in the University of Konigsberg. His development was slow. He held at first to the school of Leib- nitz-Wolff. Study of Hume awakened doubts as to its ade- quacy, though he did not become Hume's disciple. Rousseau profoundly influenced him with the "discovery of the deep hidden nature of man." In 1781 came Kant's epoch-making work, the Critique of Pure Reason — a blow struck primarily at the then dominant philosophy of Wolff. His formative treatises rapidly followed, and his thought was soon powerful in Germany. By 1797 his mental and physical powers had begun a decline which was to end in pitiful ruin. A little man in physical stature, never married, of strict moral uprightness, he devoted himself to his task with singular simplicity and fidelity. Kant's system is in many respects a theory of knowledge. With the school of Locke and Hume he held that in our knowl- edge something, or some stimulus — the content — comes to the mind from without. With Leibnitz and Wolff he maintained that the mind has certain innate qualities, transcendent in the IMMANUEL KANT r>?A sense that they do not come by experience, which condition and give form to that which comes from without. Time and space are subjective conditions under which perception is pos- sible. The mind classifies what comes to it from without under its own laws. These are the categories. Knowledge is, therefore, the product of two elements — a content from without, to which form is given by the laws of the mind. These two ele- ments give us experience ; but they do not give us knowledge of what things are in themselves, only of what our minds make of what has come into them from without. Such a demonstra- tion from "pure reason," as Wolff had attempted of God, natural religion, and the constitution of the universe, is intellec- tually impossible. We cannot thus demonstrate the nature of these existences as they are in themselves. Nature may be studied as the realm of exact law, but the law is simply that of our own thinking. While absolute knowledge of that beyond experience is, therefore, unattainable by purely intellectual processes, man is conscious of a feeling of moral obligation when he asks what ought he to do ? This subject was developed in Kant's Critique of the Practical Reason of 1788. When man answers the ques- tion as to conduct, he feels within the "categorical imperative" — an imperative because a command ; and categorical because without conditions. It is so to act that the principles of action may become those of universal law — in a phrase, do your duty. That moral law within is the noblest of man's possessions, it shows him as a personality and not as a machine. With this "categorical imperative" three postulates, or inseparable thoughts, are united. The most evident is, that if man ought to do his duty, he can. Hence man must have freedom. And freedom gives us a glimpse of a supersensuous realm of moral purpose — of a sphere of moral order. A second postulate is that of immortality. If life should be subjected to the categorical imperative it must last long enough for that result to be accom- plished. Closely connected is the third postulate. Virtue should result in happiness. Experience does not give that union. Hence its accomplishment demands a power that can unite the two. The third postulate is, therefore, God. His existence is in the "pure reason" only a hypothesis ; but in the postulates of the practical reason it becomes a conviction. Kant's religious ideas were set forth in his Religion Within th<' 532 HERDER. SCHLEIERMACHER Bounds of Reason Only of 1793. Emphasizing morality as the prime content of the practical reason, he reduces religion practically to theistic ethics. Evil and the categorical impera- tive contest for the obedience of man. One ruled by this prin- ciple of moral good — the categorical imperative — is pleasing to God, is a son of God. Of this sonship Christ is the highest illustration. The invisible church is the ideal union of all those obedient to moral law. The visible church is a union to develop this obedience. Its complete achievement will be the kingdom of God. Kant's contribution to Christian theology was not his rationalizing interpretation of doctrines, but his vindica- tion of man's profoundest feelings as bases of practical religious conviction and moral conduct. A decided impulse to the historical interpretation of the Bible was given by Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803), in early life an intimate with Goethe, influenced by personal con- tact with Kant, and an eager supporter of the romantic move- ment. From 1776 to his death he was court preacher in Wei- mar. His Spirit of Hebrew Poetry appeared in 1782-1783. His Philosophy of the History of Mankind in 1784-1791. Re- ligion, especially Christianity, is the embodiment of that which is deepest in the feelings of mankind. The Scriptures are to be understood in the light of the views and feelings of the times in which the several books were written. They are, therefore, essentially a religious literature. What is true and permanent in them must be distinguished from the temporary and local. Out of this romantic movement came the most influential German theologian of the opening nineteenth century, and one whose work has moulded religious thought far outside the bor- ders of his native land — Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher (1768-1834). The son of a Prussian army chaplain, he was educated by the Moravians, fell under the influence of the views of Wolff and Semler, and was then greatly impressed by Plato, Spinoza, Kant, and Romanticism. In 1796 he became hospital chaplain in Berlin, then a centre of the Enlightenment, and there published in 1799 his remarkable Addresses on Religion, directed to a rationalistic circle. In these his fundamental thoughts were set forth. From 1804 to 1807 he was professor in Halle. In the year last named he settles! once more in Ber- lin, becoming a little later pastor of the Trinity Church. In 1810, on the founding of the University of Berlin, he was ap- SCHLEIERMACHER 533 pointed professor of theology, a post which he occupied till his death in 1834. In 1821-1822 he set forth his mature views in his Christian Belief According to the Principles of the Evangelical Church. Schleiermacher's prime significance is that he took up into his own system the results of previous tendencies, and gave to theology a new basis, and to the person of Christ a meaning largely ignored in his age. Orthodoxy and rationalism had both made religion essentially acceptance of an intellectual system and an externally authoritative rule of conduct. To the orthodox religion was based on assent to the truths of revela- tion and obedience to the will of God. To the rationalists it was acceptance of natural theology and of universal morality as- certained by the reason. Both parties in the eighteenth cen- tury looked upon religion and morality as primarily means for securing a happy immortality. To Schleiermacher the sole basis of religion is inward, in the feeling. In itself religion is neither a body of doctrines, revealed or rationally certified, nor a system of conduct, though both belief and conduct flow from religion. Schleiermacher took much from Spinoza, Leibnitz, and Kant. In our experience we perceive the antithesis of the manifold and changing over against a principle of unity and permanency. These antitheses give us the Absolute and eternal— God — with- out whom all would be chaos ; and the world, without which all would be empty. The Absolute is throughout all. God is there- fore immanent in His world. Man is, in himself, as with Leib- nitz, a microcosm, a reflection of the universe. As contrasted with that which is universal, absolute, and eternal, he feels him- self finite, limited, temporary — in a word, dependent. This feeling of dependence is the basis of all religion. To bridge over the gulf between the universal and the finite, to bring man into harmony with God, is the aim of all religions. Hence the worth of each religion is to be measured by the degree in which this result, which is the aim of all, is accomplished. Hence religions are not to be divided into true and false, but into relative de- grees of adequacy. All advances in religion throughout his- tory are in a true sense revelations, a fuller manifestation to human consciousness of the immanent God. Of all religions thus far known to men, Christianity is the best, since it most fully accomplishes what it is the aim of all religions to achieve. 534 SCHLEIERMACHER. HEGEL Its problems are those most fundamental to all religion, sin and pardon, separation and reconciliation. And in the Chris- tian religion the person of Christ is the central element. He is Himself the reconciliation of the finite with the universal, the temporal with the eternal, the union of God and man. He is, therefore, the Mediator of this reconciliation to others. Hence Schleiermacher was strongly Christocentric. The life thus uniting the temporal and the eternal — man and God — is now immortal. An immortality in duration is a great hope, but true immortality is a quality of life rather than a mere question of duration. Doctrines are these fundamental religious experiences defin- ing and interpreting themselves intellectually; but these ex- planations have only a relative and secondary value. They have changed and may change. They are simply the forms in which abiding truth from time to time expresses itself. In Schleiermacher's view, morality is the result of the proper understanding of that of which man is a part, the family, the community, the state, the world. Such an enlarging view of his real place in these relations will drive out selfishness and self-centering. Morality is not religion, nor religion morality ; but religion is the main aid to morality. It asks the question insistently, what ought to be, in the light of the Christian consciousness. Schleiermacher was condemned by the orthodox of his day as too radical, by the rationalists as too visionary ; but no one has influenced modern religious thinking in Protestant circles more, or more variously. Kant's system contained two evident points of difficulty. It denied the power of intellectual processes to give knowledge of things as they are in themselves, and it did not explain how mental processes are necessarily the same in all individuals. Philosophy was developed in the clarification of both these difficulties, under the influence of Romanticism, into idealism, by Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) and Friedrich Wil- helm Joseph von Schelling (1775-1854) ; but in more consistent form and with a stricter realism, though predominantly ideal- istically, by Hegel. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831) was a native of Stuttgart, educated at Tiibingen. He taught in Jena, with scanty following, from ISOl to 1807. From 1808 to 1816 he HEGEL 535 was the head of the gymnasium school In Nuremberg. The year 1818 saw his appointment to a professorship In Berlin, where his fame rapidly rose to that of the first philosopher of his day In Germany. He died of cholera, at the height of his reputation and activity, in 1831. This distinction was In spite of his uninteresting and obscure manner of presentation in the classroom. To Hegel the universe is a constant development of the Absolute, that Is, God, through struggle and effort. The Abso- lute is spirit, and its development Is In accordance with the laws by which mind thinks Itself out logically. These always involve three stages, a movement in one direction — a thesis. This proceeds till It encounters Its opposition or Its limitation — the antithesis. But the two are but aspects of the one Abso- lute, and both thesis and antithesis unite in a higher union, the synthesis. Over against the "idea," the thesis, as Its antithesis, is nature — but the two unite In higher synthesis in man, who Is the union of both mind and matter. Since all is the Absolute developing in accordance with the laws of all thought, the laws of thought are the laws of things ; and since our thinking Is a fragment of that of the Absolute, in so far as it is true, it gives us true knowledge of the things outside our minds, and Is the same in all minds since a part of the one Absolute. Since we are portions of the Absolute come to consciousness, a prime duty of the finite spirit is to realize its relation to the Absolute — such realization is religion. Religion may, indeed, begin, as with Schleiermacher, in feeling ; but to be true It must become real knowledge. Every religion is an attempt thus to know God, of which Christianity is the most complete realization. God is always striving to reveal Himself; yet this outworking must always be through the three necessary stages of develop- ment. Thus the Father is the divine unity — the thesis. ^ He objectifies Himself in the Son— the antithesis. The uniting love is the Holy Spirit— the synthesis. The whole process gives the Trinity. So regarding the incarnation. God is the thesis. He is distinguished from finite humanity, the antithesis. Both unite in the higher synthesis, the God-man. Hegel's system did much to substitute for the older sharp distinction between the divine and the human, the sense of their fundamental unity so prevalent in modern Protestant theology. The profundity, power, and ingenuity of Hegel's views 536 THE TUBINGEN SCHOOL cannot be questioned. Yet they were too procrusteanly phil- osophical not to lead to reaction. Though their reign in Ger- many was comparatively short, they had much following in Great Britain throughout the latter half of the nineteenth cen- tury, and have long been influential in America. SECTION XII. FURTHER GERMAN DEVELOPMENTS Hegel's theory of development had a significant application to New Testament criticism in the work of Ferdinand Christian Baur (1792-1860), professor in Tubingen from 1826 to his death, and founder of the new Tubingen school in theology. The essential features of his interpretation were sketched by Baur in his account of the parties in the Corinthian Church, published in 1831, and were thenceforward developed in a series of bril- liant studies, which won many disciples. All historical progress, Baur felt, with Hegel, must be through the three stages of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Semler (ante, p. 529) had already taught the existence of Petrine (Judaizing) and Pauline parties in the early church. These gave the elements of the Hegelian triad. Christianity, so Baur taught, began as essentially a Messianic Judaism. This — the thesis — was the position of all the original Apostles. The necessary antithesis inevitably arose and was Pauline Christianity. Petrine and Pauline views struggled far into the second century; but the inevitable syn- thesis came eventually, in the Old Catholic Church, which hon- ored both Peter and Paul, and was unconscious that they had ever stood in serious opposition. The most debated use made by Baur of this reconstruction of the early history of the church was a redating of the books of the New Testament. They must display the biases of the various aspects of this development — that is, they must show "tendencies." Applying this test, Baur found only Romans, Galatians, and the Corinthian epistles genuinely Pauline, since they alone showed traces of the conflict. The others did not reveal the struggle, and hence must be dated later, when it had become a forgotten story. Revelation was early and Juda- izing. In 1847 Baur turned to the investigation of the Gospels by the same methods. Matthew reveals Judaizing tendencies, and is the oldest. Luke is probably a reworking of Marcion's {ante, p. 57) gospel. Mark sought to hide the conflict, aiiC GERMAN THEOLOGICAL GROUPS 537 is later, while John is not only irenic but betrays familiarity with controversies of the later half of the second century. The greater part of the New Testament was, therefore, written in the second century. Baur's discussion aroused advocates and opponents in great numbers. Its ultimate effect on New Testament investigation was most beneficial. These debates immensely enlarged the knowledge of the early church and of its literature. Their re- sults have been, however, the best answer to Baur's own the- ories. He had no adequate conception of the significance of Christ in the development of the early church. There were important differences between Judaic and Pauline Christianity ; but to reduce the intellectual reactions of nascent Christianity to these only is far too simple. There were many other shades of unlikeness. Above all, an increasing knowledge of the sec- ond certtury, and an appreciation of its atmosphere impossible in Baur's time, makes it inconceivable that the books which he assigns to it could, for the most part, have been then written. They are not of that age and outlook. By the time that Baur began his work, and for the next gen- eration, German theologians were divided into three main groups. On one extreme stood the rationalists, the continua- tion of the type of the closing eighteenth century. Among them none was of greater influence than Heinrich Eberhard Gottlob Paulus (1761-1851), professor from 1789 in Jena, who spent the latter part of his long life (1811-1844) as professor in Heidelberg. An opponent of all supernaturalism, his Life of Jesus of 1828 is typical of the woodenness of the rationalism of his period. Christ's walking on the water, he explains as a misunderstanding of the disciples, viewing Christ through the mist as He walked on the shore. The feeding of the fi\(: thousand was accomplished by the generous freedom with which Christ bestowed the little food He had, thus awakening the generosity of those in the throng who had a larger supply. Christ's death was no real event. He revived in the tomb, aroused by the earthquake, and returned to His disciples. Confessional orthodoxy of the most uncompromising pattern had a notable representative in Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg (1802-1869), professor in Berlin from 1826 to his death. Between the two extremes stood a "mediating" school, largely influenced by Schleiermacher, sharing his warmth of 538 THE "MEDIATING" THEOLOGIANS Christian feeling, perhaps generally intensified, strongly de- voted, like him, to the personal Christ, but disposed to accept many of the results of criticism, especially regarding the Biblical inspiration and narratives. Most influential of these "mediating" theologians was Johann August Wilhelm Neander (1789-1850). Of Hebrew parentage, originally David Mendel, he took the name by which he is known at baptism in 1806, to signify his new birth. A student under Schleiermacher in Halle, it was his teacher's influence that secured for him a professorship in Berlin in 1813, which he filled with distinction till his death in 1850. Nean- der turned his attention to church history with a series of re- markable monographs, and in 1826 published the first volume of his History of the Christian Religion and Church, at which he labored for the rest of his life. Distinguished by thorough use of the sources, Neander's conception of the history of the church was that of a divine life gaining increasing control over the lives of men. That life is manifested in individuals. Hence, Neander's work was a series of striking biographical portraits. Its weakness was its over-emphases on the influence of individuals, and its scanty appreciation of the institutional or corporate life of the church. Yet it put church history on a new plane of achievement. Quite as significant as his writings were the influence of Neander's personal intercourse with his students, and his childlike, unaffected Christian trust. "The heart makes the theologian," was frequently on his lips, and expresses his character. Few men have been more personally helpful or more beloved. A similar personal influence was exercised by Friedrich August Gottreu Tholuck (1799-1877), who became a professor in Berlin in 1823, but held a chair in Halle from 1826 to his death. A man of Pietistic sympathies, yet with acceptance of the critical views in many features, he turned Halle from the rationalism which had dominated since the time of Wolff to the Evangelicalism which still characterizes it. As a preacher he was distinguished. His kindness to English and American students was unwearied. A third important representative of the "mediating" school was Isaac August Dorner (1809-1884), a student in Tubingen from 1827 to 1832, and an instructor there in 1834. After ser- vice in a number of German universities he closed his career as DORNER AND STRAUSS 539 professor In Berlin from 1862 to his death in 1884. Dorner's most important early publication was his Doctrine of the Person of Christ of 1839. His completed theology was formulated in fulness, late in life, in his System of the Doctrines of Faith of 1879-1880. Theology and philosophy are truly akin, but both embody themselves in a progressive historic development. Christian belief thus finds its attestation in the Christian con- sciousness, which in turn recognizes the validity of the spiritual experience recorded in the Scriptures, and has had its grow- ing clarification in Christian history. The central doctrine of Christianity is the incarnation in which Christ is the revelation of what God is, and of what man may be — the Head of human- ity. Dorner had much influence in Great Britain and America. A comparatively minor feature of his system, that man's moral status is not 'finally determined till he has been brought, here or hereafter, to the knowledge of the historic Christ, adopted by the theologians of Andover Seminary, and popularly known as "continued probation," led to the heated "Andover contro- versy" in America in the eighties of the nineteenth century. This "mediating school," by reason of its warm Christian faith, and its partial, though cautious, acceptance of critical positions, had no little following in lands essentially theologically conservative like the United States ; but like all compromising parties its influence was temporary, and in Germany has hardly survived its principal leaders. The most epoch-making book in German theological devel- opment came not from any of these schools, but from a young scholar of twenty-seven at the University of Tubingen, in 1835, David Friedrich Strauss (1808-1874). Strauss had made him- self at home in the Hegelian philosophy. He was familiar with the earlier positions of Baur. He was, also, acquainted with the interpretation as mythical which the historian and states- man Barthold Georg Niebuhr (1776-1831) had maxle of the early story of Rome. These principles he now applied to the life of Christ. He was far from denying that much could be known of Jesus' earthly career; it must be viewed, however, as moving wholly in the realm of the human, like other his- torical events. Of the Gospel sources, he regarded that bearing the name of John as most removed in time and of the least historical worth, thus differing from much of the scholarship immediatelv before him which, notably that of Schleiermacher, 540 STRAUSS had preferred John to the others. Strauss gave the first place to Matthew, but none of the Gospels were by eye-witnesses. Miracles are inherently impossible ; but the Gospels are full of them. The ordinary rationalistic interpretations, like those of Paulus {ante, p. 537), are ridiculous; the assertions of the ultra-rationalists, like Reimarus {ante, p. 526), that they were re- counted with intent to deceive, are impossible. The only ade- quate explanation is that the simple, natural facts of Christ's life are covered over with myth. The men of that time were expecting a Messiah who would be a wonder-worker ; they were looking for the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy ; they had great true ideas, such as that the race is partly divine and partly human, that it rises above death by union with God. These were attributed to, or regarded as impersonated in, Christ. Jesus lived ; but the Christ of the New Testament is therefore, essentially, in all His superhuman characteristics a creation of myth. Strauss's book aroused an enormous controversy. He had attacked the views of every party in contemporary Germany, the orthodox, the rationalists of all shades, the "mediating'* theologians. He met unsparing denunciation. He was de- barred all further theological employment, and lived an em- bittered existence. Yet, looking back from the lapse of nearly three-quarters of a century, it is evident that his work placed the investigation of the life of Christ on a new plane, that he answered conclusively the older rationalists, and that the dis- cussions which he inaugurated have been of immense service. Though the legend, that is, the transformation of the actual facts by retelling and accretion, is generally preferred to the myth, such explanation of much otherwise perplexing in the Gospels is widely accepted. Strauss's estimate of the relative low historic value of the Johannine Gospel, though not undis- puted, is very generally entertained. His preference for Mat- thew has almost universally given place, especially since the labors of Heinrich Julius Holtzmann (1832-1910), to a view that sees in Mark the oldest narrative, and posits by its side, as the other main source of Matthew and Luke, an early collection of Christ's sayings. Granting the services of Strauss's youthful work in the de- velopment of New Testament scholarship, two fundamental criticisms of his method as a whole remain. Either the church STRAUSS, RENAN, RITSCHL 541 created that which is important in the figure of Christ, albeit unconsciously ; or Christ is the source of the church. If Strauss and those who share his essential position were right, the former conclusion is true ; but it seems much more difficult of acceptance than the latter. Nor has the purely human his- torical interpretation of the life of Christ, though largely de- veloped to the present, led to the construction of a really plausi- ble picture that could long be maintained. As one of the ablest living students of the history of the investigation of the life of Christ has asserted, its results have been essentially fail- ure.^ The sayings of Jesus Himself, and the beliefs of the early church as witnessed by the Pauline letters, demand, as Fried- rich Loofs (1858-) of Halle contends,^ a Being impossible of classification merely in the categories of humanity. Strauss's work was the inspiration, in large measure, of the French scholar, Ernst Kenan (1823-1892). His Life of Jesus, of 1863, was indebted, though in less measure, also to the work of other German students. The literary skill, the charm with which Kenan's marvellous pen depicted the purely human life of a Galilean peasant prophet, gave Kenan's work enormous and permanent popularity. Yet it was sentimental, theatrical, and, in its use of the sources, fundamentally insincere. Infi- nitely superior to Strauss in literary art, in other respects Kenan's work stood on a far lower level. The most potent influence alike in the interpretation of the history of the early church and of theology in Germany during the last half-century has been that of Albrecht Kitschl (1822- 1889). A disciple at first of the school of Baur, he broke with its main contentions when he published the second edition of his Origin of the Old Catholic Church in 1857. Baur's Hegelian Petrine thesis and Pauline antithesis are not adequate explana- tions of the growth of the early church. There were differ- ences, but all parties had a greater fundamental unity in own- ing the mastery of Jesus. Nor are the unlikenesses of early Christianity resolvable into two sharply antagonistic parties. There were many shades of opinion. Christianity came into no empty world, but one filled with religious, philosophical, and institutional ideas. By them, especially on Gentile soil, the 1 Albert Schweitzer (1875-), The Quest of the Historical Jesus, 1910. = What is the Truth about Jesus Christ, 1913 ; also Wer war Jesus Chnstus, 1916. 542 RITSCHL simple, primitive truths of Christianity were profoundly modi- fied, resulting in the theology and institutions of the Old Catholic Church. This fertile and illuminating interpretation is that most widely accepted by modern Protestant scholars. Ritschl began teaching in the University of Bonn in 1846. In 1864 he became professor in Gottingen, where he remained till his death. Here he published, in 1870-1874, his chief the- ological work, The Christian Doctrine of Justification and Recon- ciliation. Ritschl had few personal disciples, but the propa- gating influence of his writings was great. Ritschl was much influenced by Kant's assertion of moral feeling as the basis of practical certainty and denial of absolute intellectual knowledge, and by Schleiermacher's affirmation of religious consciousness as the foundation of conviction. Yet Schleiermacher's assertion of the normative value of religious consciousness was, to his thinking, too individual. The real consciousness is not that of the individual, but that of the Christian community, the church. Nor is that consciousness a source of abstract speculative knowledge. It has to do with eminently practical, personal relationships — those of God and the religious community — sin and salvation. Hence "natural" or speculative philosophic theology is valueless. Philosophy may give, as with Aristotle, a "first cause" ; but that is far from a loving Father. Such a practical revelation is made to us only through Christ. That revelation is mediated to us through the consciousness of the first disciples. Hence the Old Testa- ment, as revealing their religious background, and especially the New Testament, as recording their consciousness of Christ and His Gospel, are of supreme value. To ascertain the re- ligious consciousness recorded in the Old and New Testaments, no theory of inspiration is necessary, only normal historical investigation. Though Ritschl thus rejected metaphysics as an aid to Christian truth, he made much use of a theory of knowledge advocated by the philosopher Rudolf Hermann Lotze (1817- 1881). While it is true, Lotze held with Kant, that things as they are in themselves cannot be known, he affirmed that they are truly known in their attributes or activities. A brick pavement is known, and truly known, to me as a sidewalk. To the ants whose mounds of sand rise between the bricks it may be a home. What it is abstractly or in itself I have no RECENT GERMAN TENDENCIES 543 means of knowing. If that knowledge in its attributes is one affecting my conduct it is a "vakie judgment." So Ritsclil held that to those who came in contact with Him in the first Christian community, Christ was truly a revelation of what God is in love, the pattern of what man may be, the bearer of God's moral authority over men, and the Founder of the king- dom of God. As such He was truly known ; but to ask whether He was pre-existent, was of two natures, or was one person of a Trinity, is to ask what the experience of the early church could not answer, and what only metaphysics could assert or deny. This recognition of what Christ is and signifies, arouses faith in men, that is trust and love toward God through Christ. This new attitude is accompanied by the forgiveness and re- moval of sin, which constituted the barrier between man and God — justification — and the new relationship expresses itself in desire to do the will of God and to live the life of the king- dom — reconciliation. The Christian life is essentially social, hence Redeemer, redeemed, and the redeemed community are inseparable conceptions. These ideas of salvation Ritschl believed have never been more clearly formulated, in later church history, than by Luther. Ritschl's spiritual disciples have been by no means blind followers, and much variety of interpretation may be found among them. Their influence among those in leadership in German religious thinking is great. Among them may be men- tioned the prince of church historians, Adolf von Harnack, of Berlin (1851-), his eminent younger contemporary, Friedrich Loofs of Halle (1858-) ; and of theologians, Ferdinand Kat- tenbusch of Halle (1851-) and Wilhelm Herrmann of Mar- burg (1846-). In general, the Ritschlians have been marked by an earnest, vital religious life, and a contagious warmth of piety. In spite of the spread of Ritschlianism the school of Baur was continued in modified form, with Hegelian outlook in meta- physics, by Otto Pfleiderer of Berlin (1839-1908). More conservative than the Ritschlian school, yet with much influence from modern problems, is Reinhold Seeberg (1859-) of Berlin, who presents "a modern positive theology." Yet a reaction from the emphasis of Ritschl was almost in- evitable. His rejection of metaphysics, his assertion of the fundamental uniformity of religious experience now and in the days of primitive Christianity, were sure to arouse question. 544 RECENT GERMAN TENDENCIES Especially the rise of the study of comparative religions was certain to awake inquiry whether that principle of growth un- der the influence of external religious and philosophical ideas which Ritschl himself had applied so brilliantly to the develop- ment of Christian doctrine, when once that was planted in the world, was not to be applied, as he had not, to the beginnings of Christianity itself. The result is the rising, though as yet far from dominant, Religionsgeschichtliche school which counts such representatives as William Wrede (1859-1906) of Breslau, Wilhelm Bousset (1865-) of Gottingen, and especially Ernst Troeltsch (1865-) of Heidelberg. It is evident that German theological development is still in progress. SECTION XIII. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY English religious life in the opening years of the nineteenth century was dominated by the spiritual awakening of the great Methodist revival, which was leading to large separation from the establishment (ante, pp. 518, 519). In the establishment that revived zeal was represented by the Evangelical, or low- church party, like the Methodists, keenly alive to works of practical and missionary activity (aiite, pp. 519-523) ; yet it was far from dominating the Church of England as a whole. Its enterprise and its good works were in contrast to the apathy of the establishment in general. Intellectually, all parties in the Church of England stood on the basis of the rather pro- vincial discussions of the eighteenth century. Theology was looked upon in the same rationalistic fashion — a system of in- tellectual demonstration, or of authoritative revelation, or both combined. The stirrings of new intellectual forces were being felt however. English poetry flowered into splendid blossoming with the opening years of the nineteenth century. Romanticism, as powerfully as in Germany (ante, p. 529), was beginning to produce an intellectual atmosphere wholly unlike that of the preceding age. The novels of Sir Walter Scott are familiar illustrations of this new outlook. A new humanitari- anism, largely due to the Methodist revival, was developing, and was to be manifested multitudinously in reformatory movements. All the tendencies were sure to affect theological thinking and religious ideals. COLERIDGE 545 Probably the most stimulating force in the religious thinking of the first quarter of the nineteenth century was that of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834), eminent as a poet, lit- erary critic, and philosopher. A Neo-Platonist in his early sympathies, study in Germany, in 1798 and 1799, led to ulti- mate acquaintance not only with the masters of German litera- ture but with the thought of Kant, Fichte, and Schelling, and a philosophical outlook then fully unfamiliar in England. Coleridge never worked out a rounded system. His most significant volume was his Aids to Reflection of 1825. Over against the rationalizing of Paley he held to a distinction be- tween " reason " and " understanding." To Coleridge " reason " was a power of intuitive perception, an "inward beholding," by which religious truths are directly perceived. This "moral reason" has, as its associate "conscience," which is an uncon- ditional command, and has as its postulates the moral law, a divine lawgiver, and a future life. Religious certainty is thus based not on external proofs but on religious consciousness. Hence, he has been called the "English Schleiermacher." In most respects Coleridge was the forerunner of the broad- church way of thinking ; but in his emphasis on the church as a divine institution, higher and nobler than anything "by law established," he prepared the way for the high-church party. The work of Coleridge in its religious aspects was continued by Thomas Arnold (1795-1842), who began his famous master- ship of Rugby in 1828. A man of profound and simple Chris- tian faith, his helpfulness to his pupils was great. His views much resembled those of Herder (ante, p. 532). The Bible is a literature, to be understood in the light of the times in which it was written, but its divine truth finds us. Biblical criticism was furthered, in a very moderate fashion, by Henry Hart Milman (1791-18G8), dean of St. Paul's, Lon- don, from 1849, by his History of the Jews of 1829, in which he applied critical methods to the Old Testament. His most valuable work was his History of Latin Christianity of 1855. Not willing to be reckoned to the broad-church school, yet contributing much to its spread, was John Frederick Denison Maurice (1805-1872). The son of a Unitarian minister, he conformed to the establishment, and became chaplain of Guy's Hospital in London. In 1840 he was appointed to a chair in King's College, of which he was deprived for his opin- 546 THE BROAD-CHURCH TENDENCY ions in 1853. The year after he founded the Working Men's College, and was instrumental in inaugurating a Christian socialist movement. In 1866 he was appointed to a pro- fessorship in Cambridge. To Maurice's thinking, Christ is the Head of all humanity. None are under the curse of God. All are sons, who need no other reconciliation than a recogni- tion by them of their sonship, with the filial love and service to which such recognition will naturally lead. All will ulti- mately be brought home to God and none forever lost. Not very unlike Maurice in his theology, but primarily a great preacher, was Frederick William Robertson (1816-1853), educated under Evangelical influences, then passing through a period of intense questioning to a broad-church position. From 1847 to his early death he was minister in Brighton. No English sermons of the last century have been so influential on both sides of the Atlantic as those of Robertson. Spiritual truth must be spiritually discerned rather than intellectually proved. The nobility of Christ's humanity attests and leads to faith in His divinity. Much influence in the spread of broad-church opinions was wielded by Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), rector of Eversley, the novelist, and by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), whose In Memoriam of 1850 was fully a broad-church poem. Sim- ilarly to be reckoned were Arthur Penrhyn Stanley (1815-1881), dean of W^estminster, and Frederic William Farrar (1831-1903), dean of Canterbury. Great commotion was caused in 1860 by the Essays and Reviews, in which a group of Oxford scholars tried to present Christianity in the light of contemporary sci- ence and historical criticism, and by the trial of Bishop John William Colenso (1814-1883) of Natal for his Pentateuchal criticism published in 1862. The broad church was, however, never, strictly speaking, a party. Its numbers were relatively few, but its influence on English religious thought, in varying degrees, wide-spread. In the last half-century England, like other Protestant lands, has witnessed the steady advance of Biblical criticism, championed conspicuously by Samuel Rolles Driver (1846-1914) and Thomas Kelly Cheyne (1841-1915), both of Oxford. The Evangelical or low-church party has remained largely represented in the Church of England, especially among the laity. RISE OF THE ANGLO-CATHOLIC PARTY 547 By far the largest movement within the Church of England in the nineteenth century in numerical, and in many respects in spiritual, significance has been the development of the high- church, or Anglo-Catholic party. The early years of the second quarter of the nineteenth century saw several significant breaches in the exclusive privileges of the establishment. The Test {ante, p. 475) and Corporation Acts were repealed in 1828. Roman ^Catholics were made eligible to the House of Commons and to most public offices in 1829. The July Revo- lution of 1830 in France stimulated a demand for reform in parliamentary representation, which triumphed, after heated struggles, in 1832, and transferred power largely from the landed gentry to the middle classes, thus increasing Non- Conformist influence. To many conservative churchmen it seemed that the foundations of church and state w'ere being removed. They were disposed to raise the question of the nature of the church itself. Is it an essentially unalterable divine institution, or may it be altered, as so often since the Reformation, by government enactment ? The form their an- swer took was to be determined largely by the romantic re- vival of interest in the primitive and mediaeval. During these discussions several young clergymen, mostly associated with Oriel College, Oxford, were led to take the steps that inaugurated the "Oxford movement," as it was often called, which was the birth of the Anglo-Catholic party. Prob- ably the most influential of the group, while his brief life lasted, was Richard Hurrell Froude (1803-1836). To him the church is in possession of the truth, important elements of which primi- tive endowment were repudiated by the reformers. A revival of fasting, clerical celibacy, reverence for the saints and "Catholic usages" he deemed imperative. Closely associated with Froude was a man of great pulpit and intellectual abili- ties, whose early training had been Evangelical, but who had come to share Fronde's feelings, John Henry Newman (1801- 1890). A third of the Oriel group was John Keble (1792-1866), of Nonjuror ancestry, and already distinguished as the author of the most popular volume of religious poetry that was issued in the nineteenth century. The Christian Year of 1827. In hearty sympathy stood a Cambridge scholar, Hugh James Rose (1795-1838), who founded the British Magazine in 1832, to further faith in the divine authority and essential unchange- 548 KEBLE, NEWMAN, AND PUSEY ableness of the church. To all these men the course of recent political . events seemed menacing. The formal beginning of the Anglo-Catholic movement is usually associated with Keble's sermon of July 14, 1833, in Oxford, on the National Apostasy. In September of that year Keble formulated the principles for which he and his associates stood. The way to salvation is through reception of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist, which is validly administered only through those in apostolical succession. This is the treasure of the church — a church which must in all ways be restored to the purity of its undivided early centuries. The same month Newman began the publication of the fa- mous Tracts for the Times, which gave to the movement they fostered the name "Tractarianism." By 1835 these associates had won the support of one who, next to Newman, and fully after Newman's defection, was to be its leader, Edward Bou- verie Pusey (1800-1882). A man of great earnestness and piety, Pusey was so fully ultimately to become the head of the Anglo-Catholic movement, that it was largely called "Pusey- ism" — to Pusey it was the revival of primitive Christianity. Of these Tracts, of which ninety were issued, Newman wrote twenty-three. Keble, Pusey, and Froude, wdth others, also contributed. To Newman the Church of England was the golden mean between Protestantism and Rome ; but as the series went on the writers emphasized increasingly those doc- trines and practices which, though undoubtedly ancient, are popularly identified with Rome. Thus, Pusey taught the re- generative nature of baptism and the sacrificial aspect of the Lord's Supper. Confession was commended. Reserve was to be practised in the use of the Bible and the proclamation of religious truth. It was the ninetieth Tract by Newman, in 1841, that aroused most controversy. Newman held that the Thirty-nine Articles were not to be interpreted in accordance with the intention of their authors, but in the "sense of the Catholic Church." The bishop of Oxford now forbad the con- tinuation of the Tracts. Newman was at the height of his influence when Tract Ninety was published. The Anglo-Catholic movement numbered hundreds of followers among the clergy. Newman was doubt- ing, however, the catholicity of the Church of England, and on October 9, 1845, he made his submission to Rome. Several THE ANGLO-CATHOLIC PARTY 549 hundred clergy and laymen followed him into the Roman com- munion, of whom the most distinguished was Henry Edward Manning (1808-1892), who conformed to Rome in 1851, and was created a cardinal in 1875. Great excitement was caused in 1850 by the re-establishment in England by Pope Pius IX of the Roman Catholic diocesan episcopate, which had been in abey- ance since the Reformation. Planning became an extreme ultramontane supporter of papal claims, unlike Newman, who was always moderate, and who, though the most eminent of English Roman Catholics, was not given a cardinalate till 1879. These conversions to Rome were a severe blow to the Anglo- Catholic party, but it weathered the storm under Pusey's able leadership, and in a few years was stronger than ever. As its doctrinal modifications became established, it concerned itself increasingly with the "enrichment" of the liturgy, by the in- troduction of usages which Protestantism had discarded. These changes encountered much popular and legal opposition ; but the modifications desired by the ritualists have been largely secured. In 1860 the English Church Union, now widely ex- tended, was organized to support high-church faith and prac- tice. The high-church movement is still a growing force in the Church of England. To a degree unparalleled in other coun- tries, the laity of England, with conspicuous exceptions, are disposed to regard disputes between the various parties in the Church of England as clerical problems, so that lay religious life in the establishment is more uniform than might be sup- posed. Any estimate of the Anglo-Catholic movement would be erroneous that failed to recognize its profound religious zeal. If it has Romanized the worship and the theology of the church — it would prefer to say Catholicized it — it has shown marvel- lous devotion, especially to the poor, neglected, and unchurched. It has done much to regain the hold of the church on the lower classes which seemed to have almost ceased when the move- ment began. Its sympathy with the destitute and delinquent has been intelligent and self-sacrificing. It has been a real awakening of religion, alike in faith and good works. The sister Protestant state church of Ireland, always an anom- aly in that it was the governmentally supported church of a minority of the population, was disestablished in 1869. It has 550 THE NON-CONFORMISTS endured this change in Its fortunes with no diminution of effect- iveness. The nineteenth century was marked by a steady diminution of the disabihties resting on Non-Conformists. In 1813 the Uni- tarians obtained rehef by the repeal of penal acts against deniers of the Trinity. The Test and Corporation Acts were abolished in 1828. Marriages were permitted in dissenting places of worship in 1836. Non-Conformists were freed from taxes for the benefit of the establishment in 1868. In 1871 all religious tests, save for degrees in theology, were abolished at the Uni- versities of Oxford, Cambridge, and Durham. In 1880 Non- Conformist services were permitted at burials in churchyards. Non-Conformity has steadily grown, and is supposed to em- brace at least half the population of England. Its strength is in the middle classes. It has produced preachers of great power, and has had its scholars and its social workers, but in scholarship and in work for the unchurched it has been less em- inent than the Church of England. The tendency among the larger Evangelical Non-Conformist bodies has been strongly toward federation. Since 1893 England and Wales have been organized into a complete system of local "councils," embrac- ing Baptists, Congregationalists, Methodists, Presbyterians, and Quakers, each local church being primarily responsible for its own territory — thus preventing competition. These "coun- cils" are united in "federations," and all culminating in the National Council of Evangelical Free Churches. Three movements of interest have taken place among English Non-Conformists. Edward Irving (1792-1834) was a Scottish Presbyterian minister in London, of eloquence and mystic ten- dencies. By 1828 he had become persuaded that the "gifts" of the apostolic age would be restored if faith was suSicient. Though no claimant to them himself, he believed by 1830 that his hopes had been fulfilled in others. In 1832 he was deposed from his Presb^-terian ministry. Soon after, six Apos- tles were believed to be designated by prophecy, which num- ber was similarly completed to twelve in 1835. The body thus led took the name Catholic Apostolic Church. In 1842 an elaborate ritual was adopted. The Apostles were regarded as organs of the Holy Spirit. The speedy coming of Christ was long expected, but the last Apostle died in 1901. The church is represented also in Germany and the United States. PLYMOUTH BRETHREN. SALVATION ARMY 551 A second movement grew out of reaction against the unspiri- tuality of the establishment in the early years of the nineteenth century. Groups of "brethren," who claimed faith and Chris- tian love as their only bonds, gathered in Ireland and western England. Their great increase was through the labors of John Nelson Darby (1800-1882), formerly a clergyman, in the vicinity of Plymouth about 1830. They are therefore generally nicknamed "Plymouth Brethren." To their thinking all be- lievers are priests, and hence formal ministries are to be re- jected. Creeds are to be refused. The Holy Spirit guides all true believers, and unites them in faith and worship after the apostolic model. Though professedly rejecting all denomina- tionalism, the "brethren" found themselves speedily com- pelled to corporate acts of discipline, and are divided into at least six groups. Darby was an indefatigable propagandist. Through his efforts the "brethren" were planted in Switzer- land, France, Germany, Canada, and the United States. Among their eminent adherents have been George Miiller (1805-1898), whose remarkable orphan houses in Bristol were supported, he believed, largely in direct answer to prayer; and Samuel Prideaux Tregelles (1813-1875), the eminent student of the Greek text of the New Testament. The most important of these new organizations is the Sal- vation Army. Its creator, William Booth (1829-1912), was a New Connection ]\Iethodist minister, who, after successful revival work in Cardiff, began similar labors in London in 1864, out of which an organization in military form, with mili- tary obedience, developed in 1878, to which the name Salva- tion Army was given m 1880. Always strongly engaged in practical philantliropy as well as street evangelism, the philan- thropic work was developed on a great scale from 1890 onward, when Booth published his In Darkest England and the Way Out. In spite of its autocratic military form, the Salvation Army is in many respects a church. Though open to the charge of occasional arbitrarmess, it has done an immense and benefi- cent work for the defective and delinquent, and has extended to all English-speaking lands, as well as to France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, the Scandinavian lands, and the Orient. The most powerful impulse toward modern religious think- ing, the world over, that was contributed by England in the nineteenth century came from the work of a naturalist who, 552 DARWIN AND EVOLUTION though a Christian believer in eariy life, was all his maturer years a tolerant agnostic, Charies Robert Darwin (1809-1882). A man of great keenness of investigation, remarkable powers of generalization, and transparent honesty in his use of facts and in his readiness to abandon all inferences which continued observations did "not warrant, his long and patient work was done under the constant handicap of ill health. A voyage of nearly five years, 1831 to 1836, as naturalist of the surveying ship Beagle, laid the foundations of his knowledge. In 1859 came his Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, in which he elaborated his theories of evolution and of the survival of the fittest, reached practically contemporaneously by his friend, Alfred Russel Wallace (1823-1913). No scientific theory since Newton's doctrine of gravitation (ante, p. 483) has been so transforming in all realms of thought. Much modified in de- tails since promulgated, the theory of evolutionary develop- ment, though accepted with varying degrees of fulness, has profoundly modified much theological thinking, and has to be taken into most serious consideration even by those who deny its applicability to the realm of religion. SECTION XIV. SCOTTISH DIVISIONS AND REUNIONS Presbyterianism was established as the state church of Scotland under William and Mary in 1690. In 1707 England and Scotland were united into one kingdom of Great Britain ; but the independent rights of the Church of Scotland were safeguarded. Under Queen Anne, in 1712, two important acts were passed by Parliament. By one the status of a tolerated communion was given to episcopacy, then strongly intrenched in northern Scotland. The other, destined to be the source of infinite trouble, permitted "patrons," usually the crown or the great landlords, to force appointments of Presbyterian ministers on hostile parishioners. Controversies were soon tur- moiling the Scottish church. In 1718 an anonymous seven- teenth-century work. The Marrow of Modern Divinity, was re- published at the instigation of Thomas Boston (1676-1732), of Ettrick, a zealous popular preacher. The Marrow seemed antinomian to a large portion of the ministry, as so putting an emphasis on faith in Christ as to exclude even the necessity of repentance. Boston won sympathy. In 1722 the "Marrow- • SCOTTISH FREE CHURCHES 553 men" were censured by the General Assembly. They rep- resented unquestionably, however, a warm Evangelical spirit. One of these "Marrowmen," Ebenezer Erskine (1680-1754), of Stirling, a preacher of power, denounced all limitation of the power of the congregation to choose its minister, in 1733. He was disciplined by his synod, and he and several associates were deposed by the General Assembly in 1740. Before these censures were completed they had founded the first Scottish free church, ultimately known as the Secession Church. It grew rapidly, but was soon turmoiled over the question whether the burgesses of the Scottish cities could properly swear to support "the true religion . . . authorized by the laws" of Scotland. In 1747 the Secession Church divided into Anti- Burgher, or Nonjuror, and Burgher sections. Further sub- divisions occurred, but most of the Anti-Burghers and Burgh- ers united, in 1820, as the United Secession Church. The question of patronage continued divisive. Thomas Gillespie (1708-1774), of Carnock, refused to participate in the installation of a minister over an unwilling congregation, and was deposed by the General Assembly in 1752. In 1761 he and like-minded ministers founded the organization which became the Relief Church. These various secessions won large popular support, especially among the more earnest-minded. By 1765 they counted one hundred and twenty congregations, and one hundred thousand adherents. In 1847 the United Se- cession Church and the Relief Church combined as the United Presbyterian Church. Under these circumstances the state church was robbed of a good deal of its spiritual strength. Rationalistic thought penetrated Scotland as the eighteenth century advanced, as con- temporaneously in England and Germany. Hume's specula- tions {ante, p. 490) were not without influence. _ The result was the growth of what was called Moderatism, which was con- trolling in the latter half of the eighteenth century, and influ- ential well into the nineteenth. To the Moderates generally Christianity was largely ethical rather than strongly experi- ential or doctrinal. It was believed that the patronage system favored the appointment of Moderates, where congregations would often have chosen men of more Evangelical type. With the reaction from the French Revolution, the rise of Romanti- cism, and the general revolt from the rationalism of the eight- 554 THOMAS CHALMERS eenth century, a warm-hearted Evangelicalism, in sympathy also with the liberal political aspirations of the people, began to contest the field with Moderatism. ' From 1815, when he entered on a memorable pastorate in Glasgow, the most eminent of the Evangelical party was Thomas Chalmers (1780-1847), distinguished as a preacher, a social re- former, a mathematician, a theological teacher, and an ecclesias- tical statesman. Under his leadership, and in the changed spirit of the times, the Evangelical party rapidly grew in strength. Under Chalmers's guidance a great campaign to meet the needs of the growing population of Scotland was inaugurated, which resulted by 1841 in the erection of two hundred and twenty new churches by popular gifts. The old question of pat- ronage still continued burning. In 1834 the growing Evangeli- cal party secured the passage by the General Assembly of a "veto" rule, by which presbyteries were forbidden to proceed to installation where a majority of the congregation were op- posed to the candidate. This rule soon involved legal contro- versy. The courts held that the General Assembly had ex- ceeded its powers. Parliament was asked for relief, which was refused. Under Chalmers's leadership, therefore, some four hundred and seventy-four ministers formally withdrew from the state church in 1843 and founded the Free Church of Scotland. They gave up parishes and salaries. All had to be provided anew ; but the enthusiasm and sacrifice of the new body was equal to the task. In general, it was a withdrawal of the Evangelical element from the already considerably modified but less zealous and spiritual "Moderates." A third, and that the most active part, of the state church had gone out. Yet the example of the seceders worked ultimately for a quickening of zeal in the state church itself. In 1874 the rights of patron- age, the original ground of division, were abolished by law. The older separatist bodies, combined since 1847 as the United Presbyterian Church, had long rejected connection with the state. The new Free Church of Scotland had practically to take the same position, though Chalmers and its early leaders clung to the conception of a national state church, free from hampering state dictation. This contention was rendered academic by the logic of facts. All circumstances counselled union, and therefore, on October 31, 1900, the vast majority of the Free Church of Scotland and the United SCOTTISH FREE CHURCHES 555 Presbyterian Church were joined In one body as the United Free Church of Scotland. A minority of the old Free Church refused the union, In all some sixty-three congregations, mostly In the Highlands, small and strongly conservative In theology and practice. This body was popularly known as the Wee Frees. It brought legal claim to the property of the whole former Free Church. In 1904 the law judges of the House of Lords awarded to the Wee Frees their whole claim, on the ground that the Free Church majority, In combining with the pro- fessedly Independent United Presbyterians, had abandoned the early Free Church belief In a purified state church. The situation created was not merely unjust, but absurd. Relief was sought from Parliament, and In 1905 the property was divided fairly equitably by a commission between the Wee Frees and their former brethren, on the basis of ability to make effective use of It. The growth of modern views In the- ology was also recognized by Parliament, in this act of 1905, by permission to the state church to formulate the terms of subscription to the ancient confessions as It may see fit. The vast majority of independent Presbyterians being thus joined In the United Free Church of Scotland, and many of the grounds of contention with the state church having been removed, a union between the two In the near future Is probable — foreshadowed by the merger, In 1916, of the theological schools of the established church and the United Free Church in Aberdeen and Edinburgh. SECTION XV. ROMAN CATHOLICISM The Counter-Reformation had spent Its force by the middle of the seventeenth century. Its strength had been in the might of Spain and the zeal of the Jesuit order. Spain had emerged from the Thirty Years' War shorn of Its power. The Jesuits, though more potent than ever In the counsels of the Roman Church, had become more worldly, and had kept little of their earlier spiritual zeal. None of the Popes of the seven- teenth or eighteenth centuries were men of commanding force. Several, like Innocent XI (1676-1689), Innocent XII (1691- 1700), or Benedict XIV (1740-1758), were of excellent character and Intentions, but they were not rulers of men. The course 556 JESUITS AND JANSENISTS of the Roman Church was one of increasing feebleness in the face of the growing claims of the CathoHc civil governments. A really effective attack upon Protestantism was no longer pos- sible, save where it existed, as in France, in predominantly Roman lands. Under Louis XIV (1643-1715) the French monarchy pur- sued a policy dictated by the King's absolutism. As against papal claim he asserted possession by the crown of all income of vacant bishoprics, and favored the proclamation by the French clergy in 1682 of the "Galilean liberties," that civil rulers have full authority in temporal affairs, that general coun- cils are superior to the Pope, that the usages of the French church limit papal interference, and that the Pope is not in- fallible. The resulting quarrel was compromised in 1693 in such wise that the clergy practically withdrew their assertions, but the King kept the disputed income. As against his own subjects, Louis XIV's policy was deter- mined by his conception of national unity and Jesuit influence, especially after his marriage to Madame de Maintenon in 1684. In 1685 he revoked the Edict of Nantes (ante, p. 441), and made Protestantism illegal under the severest penalties. The ultimate result was disastrous for France. Thousands of its most industrious citizens emigrated to England, Holland, Germany, and America. The former alliances with Protestant Powers were ruptured, contributing much to the military fail- ures of the latter years of Louis XIV's reign. Jesuit influence led to equally disastrous opposition by the King and Pope to Jansenism. Cornelius Jansen (1585-1638), bishop of Ypres, an earnest Catholic, was a thoroughgoing Augustinian, convinced that the semi-Pelagian Jesuit inter- pretations of sin and grace must be combated. His chief work, Augustinus, was published in 1640, after his death. Jansen's book was condemned by Pope Urban VIII (1623-1644) in 1642, but Jansen's views found much support among the more deeply religious Catholics of France, notably in the nunnery of Port Royal, near Paris. The most influential opponent of the Jesuits was Blaise Pascal (1623-1662), especially in his Lettres Provinciales of 1656. Louis XIV supported the Jesuit hos- tility to Jansenism, and persecuted its followers. In 1710 the buildings of Port Royal were torn down. Jansenism had found a new leader of power in Pasquier Quesnel (1634-1719), who THE CATASTROPHE OF THE JESUITS 557 had to seek safety in the Netherlands. His devotional com- mentary, Moral Reflections on the New Testament, of 1(387-1692, aroused bitter Jesuit hostility, and through their eflbrts Pope Clement XI (1700-1721), by the bull Unigenitus of 1713, condemned one hundred and one of Quesnel's statements, some taken literally from Augustine. Louis Antoine de Noailles (1651-1729), cardinal archbishop of Paris, protested and ap- pealed to a general council. Opposition was, however, vain. The Jesuits, supported by the French monarchy, ultimately triumphed. Partly through this Jansenist controversy, and partly by reason of quarrels between the Jesuits and the older Roman clergy, a division occurred in Utrecht, in the Netherlands, from which in 1723 a small, independent, so-called Jansenist Cath- olic Church originated, which still exists, with an archbishop in Utrecht, and bishops in Haarlem and Deventer. For France the expulsion of the Huguenots and the triumph of the Jesuits were great misfortunes. While much variety of religious interpretation was possible in England, Germany, and Holland, within the bounds of Christianity, in eighteenth-cen- tury France the choice was only between Romanism of the narrow Jesuit type, which many of its own noblest sons con- demned, and the rapidly rising tide of the new rationalism of a Voltaire and his associates {ante, p. 492). Thousands pre- ferred the latter, and the destructive results were to be obvious in the French Revolutionary treatment of the church. The latter half of the eighteenth century brought to the Jesuits their greatest catastrophe. They had largely engaged in colonial trade, in spite of its prohibition in their own consti- tutions; their political influence was notorious, and they had the hostility of the radical rationalism of the age. In this latter force they found their most determined foes. The power- ful minister of King Joseph of Portugal (1750-1777), the mar- quis of Pombal (1699-1782), was a man of rationalistic sym- pathies. He was angered by Jesuit resistance to his policy in Paraguay. He opposed the free-trade attitude of the Jesuits. In 1759 he enforced the deportation of all Jesuits from Por- tuguese territory with ruthless high hand. France contempo- raneously was aroused by the scandalous bankruptcy of the Jesuit Lavelette in Martinique. The controlling force in the French Government was that of the duke of Choiseul (1719- 558 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION 1785), a sympathizer with the Enhghtenment. He was also aided by Madame de Pompadour, the mistress of Louis XV (1715-1774). A large part of the French clergy were also hos- tile to the Jesuits. In 1764 the Jesuits were suppressed in France. Spain and Naples expelled them in 1767. The rulers of these lands now forced from Pope Clement XIV (1769-1774) the abolition of the order in July, 1773. These events attested the weakness of the papacy. The Jesuits continued existence in non-Roman Russia and in Protestant Prussia. The growth of tolerance in France is shown by the exemp- tion from persecution accorded to Protestants by the govern- ment of Louis XVI in 1787. The tremendous storm of the French Revolution was about to break and to sweep away the church, with the nobility, the throne, and kindred ancient institutions. The Revolutionary leaders were filled with the rationalistic spirit. They viewed the churches as religious clubs. In 1789 church lands were declared national property. In 1790 the monasteries were abolished. The same year the civil constitution of the clergy overthrew the old ecclesiastical divisions, made each "depart- ment" a bishopric, and provided for the election of all priests by the legal voters of their communities. The constitution of 1791 pledged complete religious freedom. In 1793 the Jacobin leaders procured the abolition of Christianity. Hundreds of ecclesiastics were beheaded. After the "terror" was over, in 1795, religious freedom was once more proclaimed, though the state, as such, was to be without religion. It was, in real- ity, strongly antichristian. This situation was extended by French conquests to the Netherlands, northern Italy, and Swit- zerland. In 1798 Rome was made a republic by French arms, and Pope Pius VI (1775-1799) carried a prisoner to France, where he died. The military events of 1800 led to the election of Pius VII (1800-1823) and the restoration of the States of the Church. Napoleon, on attaining power, though himself without religious feeling, recognized that a majority of the French people were Roman Catholics, and that the church might be used by him. The result was the Concordat with the papacy in 1801 and the Organic Articles of 1802. By the former, the church sur- rendered all confiscated lands not still held by the government. Those in government possession were restored to it. Appoint- NAPOLEON AND THE CHURCH 559 ment of bishops and archbishops were to be by the Pope on nomination by the state. Lower clergy were appointed by bishops, but the state had a veto power. Clergy were to be paid from the state treasury. By the Organic Articles no papal decrees were to be published or French synods held without governmental allowance. To Protestants full religious rights were accorded, at the same time, and the pay of their minis- ters and control of their affairs assumed by the state. Napoleon soon quarrelled with Pius VII, annexed the States of the Church in 1809, and held the Pope a prisoner from that time till 1814. Napoleon's Concordat was to rule the relations of France and the papacy for more than a century. Intended to place the French Catholic Church under the control of the government, and accomplishing that result under Napoleon, its real effect was to make the French clergy look to the Pope as their sole aid against the state. By ignoring all ancient local rights, it really ruined all Gallican claims- to partial freedom, and opened the door to that Ultramontane spirit characteristic of French Catholicism throughout the nineteenth century. The wars of the republican and Napoleonic periods resulted in far-reaching changes in Germany. The old ecclesiastical territories practically ceased to exist in 1803, and were divided between the secular states. In 1806 Francis II (1792-1835) resigned the title Holy Roman Emperor. He had already as- sumed that of Emperor of Austria. It was the passing of a venerable institution, the Holy Roman Empire, which had, indeed, been long but a shadow, but which was bound up with mediaeval memories of the relations of church and state. Napoleon's downfall was followed by universal reaction. The old seemed of value by its antiquity. It was to be years before the real progress effected by the Revolutionary age was to be manifest. This reaction was aided by the rise of Roman- ticism with its new appreciation of the mediaeval and rejection of that spirit of the eighteenth century which had been dominant in the Revolution. The papacy profited by all these impulses and soon developed a strength greater than it had shown for a hundred years. A characteristic evidence of this new position of the papacy was the restoration, by Pius VH, in August, 1814, of the Jesuits, who speedily regained their old ascendancy in papal counsels, and their wide extended activities, though not their former political power. They have, in turn, been fore- 560 UTRAMONTANISM. PIUS IX most in the development and support of papal authority. At the same time the restoration of the power of the Roman Church was accompanied and made possible by a real revival of piety that has continued to characterize it to the present day. Roman development during the nineteenth century has been in the direction of the assertion of papal supremacy, that called Utramontanism — i. e., beyond the mountains from the point of view of northern and western Europe — that is Italian. To this Ultramontane tendency to exalt the papacy above all national or local ecclesiasticism the Jesuits have powerfully contributed. Pius VII's successor, Leo XII (1823-1829), was reactionary, condemning, like his predecessor, the work of Bible societies. Gregory XVI (1831-1846) was a patron of learning, but reactionary toward modern social and political ideals. This essentially mediaeval outlook and refusal to make terms with the modern world led to the formation, in the first half of the nineteenth century, of clerical and anticlerical parties in Catholic countries, whose contests have largely de- termined the politics of those lands to the present. The Ultramontane tendencies found their conspicuous illus- tration in the papacy of Pius IX (1846-1878). Beginning his pontificate at a time when the States of the Church were on the edge of revolt because the leading political offices were held by the clergy, he was at first a political reformer ; but the task proved too much for him and he adopted a reactionary political policy which made it necessary to seek the support of foreign soldiery and rendered the people dissatisfied with his political rule. In religion he was sincerely convinced that in the papacy is a divinely appointed institution to which the modern world can appeal for the decision of its vexed religious problems. He desired to make this evident. In December, 1854, after consultation with the bishops of the Roman Church, he pro- claimed the immaculate conception of the Virgin — that is, that Mary shared in no taint of original sin. The question had been in discussion since the Middle Ages, though the balance of Catholic opinion in the nineteenth century was overwhelmingly in favor of the view approved by the Pope. He elevated it, by his own act, into a necessary dogma of faith. In 1864 a Syllabus of Errors, prepared under papal auspices, condemned many things which most Christians oppose; but THE VATICAN COUNCIL 5G1 also repudiated much which is the foundation of modern states, like the separation of church and state, non-sectarian schools, toleration of varieties in religion, and concluded by condemn- ing the claim that "the Roman Pontiff can and ought to rec- oncile himself to, and agree with, progress, liberalism, and civilization as lately introduced," The crowning event of Pius IX's pontificate was the Vatican Council. Opened on December 8, 1869, with a remarkably large attendance from all over the Roman world, its most im- portant result was the affirmation, on July 18, 1870, of the doc- trine of papal infallibility by a vote of five hundred and thirty- three to two. It was far from asserting that all papal utterances are infallible. 'To be so the Pope must expound, in his official capacity, " the revelation or deposit of faith delivered through the Apostles." "The Roman pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra, that is, when in discharge of the office of pastor and doctor of all Christians, by virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he defines a doctrine regarding faith or morals to be held by the universal church, by the divine assistance prom- ised to him in blessed Peter, is possessed of that infallibility with which the divine Redeemer willed that His church should be endowed." Thus the Vatican Council sealed the triumph of Ultramontanism. It was the completion of the absolute papal monarchy, and the overthrow of that doctrine of the supremacy of a general council which had loomed so large in the fifteenth century {ante, pp. 306-312), and had not been without its representatives since. Though undoubtedly the logical outcome of centuries of papal development, this doctrinal definition encountered con- siderable opposition, especially in Germany. The most emi- nent refuser of conformity was the distinguished Munich his- torian, Johann Joseph Ignaz von Dollinger (1799-1890), but though excommunicated, he declined to initiate a schism. What he refused, others achieved, and the result was the organ- ization of the Old Catholics, who received episcopal ordina- tion from the Jansenist Church of Utrecht {ante, p. 557). Their chief spread has been in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, where they number still more than a hundred thou- sand adherents. They have even, though very feebly, reached the United States. Yet the Old Catholic movement would seem to have little future. Its departures from Rome, though 562 LOSS OF TEMPORAL SOVEREIGNTY important, were not vital enough to serve as a long-continuing basis of a branch of the Christian Church. Meanwhile the tide of Italian national unity had been rising. The war carried on jointly by the kingdom of Sardinia, under Victor Emmanuel II (1849-1878), and France, under Napoleon III (1852-1870), against Austria, supplemented by Italian en- thusiasm led by Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-1882), resulted in the establishment of the kingdom of Italy under Victor Em- manuel in 1861, and the inclusion in it of the greater part of the old States of the Church. Rome and its vicinity were preserved to the Pope by the Ultramontane policy of Napoleon III. On the outbreak of the war between France and Ger- many in 1870, the French troops were withdrawn. On Septem- ber 20, 1870, Victor Emmanuel captured Rome, and the in- habitants of the district voted one hundred and thirty-three thousand to one thousand five hundred for annexation to Italy. To the Pope the Italian Government guaranteed the privileges of a sovereign, and absolute possession of the Vatican, the Lateran, and Castel Gandolfo. Thus came to an end the States of the Church, the oldest continuous secular sovereignty then existing in Europe. Pius IX protested, declared himself a prisoner, and excommunicated Victor Emmanuel. The papacy has continued to desire the restoration of its temporal posses- sions; but to a non-Roman this sacrifice seems to have been an advantage. It removed from the papacy a secular task which it was ill adapted to meet, and the attempted accom- plishment of which laid it open to well-grounded charges of maladministration. It gave to the papacy unhindered scope for the development of its spiritual functions. It is no acci- dent that in the forty-seven yesiTS that have elapsed since the loss of its territorial possessions the papacy has been more in- fluential and has enjoyed the general respect of mankind in higher measure than at any period since before the Reformation. Pius IX was succeeded by a statesman Pope, Leo XIII (1878- 1903). He concluded the conflicts between the papacy and the imperial government of Germany. He urged French Catholics to support the republic. With Italy he was less successful, owing to insistence on the restoration of the States of the Church. He declared Aquinas (ante, p. 270) the standard of Roman in- struction, thus returning to the best period of mediaeval re- ligious thought. He urged the study of the Scriptures. He SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE 563 opened the treasures of the Vatican to historical scliolars. The relations of labor and capital and the interests of working men enlisted his attention. He sought the reunion of the Roman and the Oriental Churches ; but he pronounced Anglican orders invalid m 1896. In 1878 he restored the Roman Catholic episcopate in Scotland. A man of scholarly tastes and wide sympathies, he was far removed from any countenance of Protestantism, but won deserved admiration for the skill, wisdom. Christian zeal, and religious earnestness with which he administered his great office. Pius X (1903-1914) was, in many ways, a contrast to Leo XIII. The latter was of noble birth. Pius X was of humble origin. Leo XIII was of great diplomatic ability and far- sighted vision. Pius X was a faithful parish priest whose par- ish had become world-wide. He was called to handle two ques- tions of great difficulty. The first had to do with the relations of church and state in France. In spite of the efforts of Leo XIII, the majority of French Catholics were regarded as luke- warm toward the republic. Relations had long been growing strained. In 1901 religious orders not under state control were forbidden to engage in instruction. The refusal of conform- ity by some was followed in 1903 by the suppression of many monasteries and nunneries, and the confiscation of their prop- erties. In 1904 President Loubet of France paid a state visit in Rome to the King of Italy. Pius X, regarding the Italian sovereign as in wrongful possession of Rome, protested. France withdrew its ambassador from the papal court, and soon after broke off all diplomatic intercourse. In December, 1905, the French Government decreed the separation of church and state. All governmental aid was withdrawn from Catholics and Protes- tants. All churches and other church property were declared the possession of the state, to be rented for use by state-respon- sible local associations for worship, preference being given to those representative of the faith by which the property had last been employed. Though many French bishops were ready to form such organizations, Pius X forbade. The result was a deadlock, which still continues, though the French Government has allowed worship to go on as before. Catholics and Protes- tants have since had to provide the cost of their services by voluntary gifts. The adjustment has been difficult; but the task, which has been successfully accomplished, seems by its 564 MODERNISM perplexities to have served to arouse the religious interest of the nation. The second problem was occasioned by the rise of the Mod- ernists. In spite of growing Ultramontanism, modern histor- ical criticism, Biblical investigation, and scientific conceptions of growth through development, have found a foothold, though scanty, in the Roman communion. To some earnest and thoughtful men some reinterpretation of Catholicism in terms of the modern intellectual world seemed imperative. Such were Hermann Schell (1850-1906) in Germany, Alfred Loisy (1857-) in France, George Tyrrell (1861-1909) in England, and quite a group in Italy. Modernism was confined to no country. Against this movement Pius X set his face. By a "syllabus," and an "encyclica," in 1907, Modernism was con- demned, and stringent measures taken for its repression. These have apparently been successful, but whether such ten- dencies can be permanently crushed only the future can de- termine. Pius X interested himself in many administrative reforms with effect. The present Pope, Benedict XV (1914-), is of scholarly spirit and peace-loving nature, but the brevity of his pontificate and the overshadowing interests of the great world war have, as yet, rendered an estimate of his pontificate diflficult. SECTION XVI. AMERICAN CHRISTIANITf American Christianity is primarily an importation from the Old World. As the colonization of America represented many races of Europe, so the various types of European Christianity were reproduced on the new continent. Where, as in South and Central America, the immigration was of a single race, imposing its civilization on the natives, a single type of Chris- tianity — the Roman Catholic — is dominant to-day, however extensively its control may have been contested by secularist influences. Where, as in North America, many stocks have contributed to the population, though one form of Christianity was here and there dominant in colonial beginnings, the result has been great variety and religious freedom, as a consequence of necessary mutual toleration, America has produced cer- tain indigenous religious types, but they have been relatively insignificant; but in North America, wkere contact between ROISIAX AMISSIONS IN AMERICA 565 various types has been acute, and where the principle of inde- pendence from state control has been dominant for more than \ a century, there had been much modification frtjm European \ forms, especially in church government — what may be called an Americanization. The conversion of South and Central America was largely the work of the monastic orders, strongly supported by the Spanish Government. By 1508 the Franciscans were laboring in Venezuela. By 1529 the}^ were numerous enough to hold a provincial synod in Mexico. In 1535 they had constituterl Peru a province. Four years later they had begun work in Argentina. They were the first to enter Brazil. By 1597 they had founded Christian communities in what is now part of the United States — New ^Mexico. In 1700 they were in Texas. Their mission period in California was from 1769 to 1843. The Franciscans found worthy competitors in the Domini- cans. By 1526 they were in ]\Iexico. Soon after they were laboring in Colombia. In 1541 they were Christian pioneers in Chile. Even more extensive was the activity of the Jesuits. From 1549 they developed an extensive work in Brazil. Colombia soon proved one of their most successful fields. They were in Peru by 1567, and in Paraguay by 1586. In the country last named, in 1610, they established their much discussed pater- nally controlled Indian villages {ante, p. 430). The seven- teenth century witnessed their extensive activities in Ecuador, Bolivia, and Chile. By 1572 they began a great work in Mexico. No brighter page of missionary sacrifice is to be found than that written by the Jesuits in Canada, beginning in 1611. Though aided by other orders, the strongly Roman province of Quebec is their monument to this day. In 1673 a Jesuit mis- sionary, Jacques Marquette (1637-1675), discovered the Missis- sippi. A series of mission stations through the ^Mississippi valley, as far south as Louisiana, follov/cd. Florida was missionary land for Dominicans, Franciscans, and Jesuits from 1568, but proved difficult. The flourishing period of Roman missions there was from 1625 to 1700. Universities were founded in Mexico City in 1551, and in Lima in 1557, which are the most venerable institutions of higher learning in the New World. The Church of England was introduced mto the oldest Eng- 566 VIRGINIA, INIARYLAND, THE CAROLINAS Ilsh colony In what is now the United States — that of Virginia — at its planting in 1607, and remained established by law till 1776. Though it retained the affections of many of the noblest of the colonists, even the establishment of William and Mary College, in 1693, failed to provide an adequate supply of native clergy. Throughout the colonial period Virginia was dependent on clerical appointments by the distant bishop of London. The result was too often the selection of the incompetent and sometimes of the unworthy, while the parishes which were bound by law to furnish the minister's support revenged them- selves by a grudging acquiescence. The attempts of the clergy to collect their dues by law, supported by the home government, was one of the causes of disaffection leading to the Revolution. On the whole, Virginia episcopacy, in colonial days, led a troubled and scantily fruitful existence. Virginia's northern neighbor, Maryland, the first English proprietary colony in what is now the United States, was chartered to Lord Baltimore in 1632. Himself a Roman Catholic, to secure freedom under the sovereignty of England for his fellow believers, Baltimore established full religious toleration. Under these conditions the Protestant Dissenters in Maryland, by the close of the seventeenth century, outnum- bered the Roman Catholics and Anglicans. In 1691 Maryland was created a royal colony, and the next year the Church of England was by law established. During the remainder of the colonial period its livings were the most valuable of any in the colonies ; but it suffered from the inefficiency of the clergy, like Virginia. Quakers, Presbyterians, and Methodists grew numerous. The establishment practically ended in the tur- moil of the Revolution. A bright spot in the religious history of these two colonies was the efficient labor of Thomas Bray (1656-1730), commissary of the bishop of London, who secured the foundation of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts in 1701 (ante, p. 508). North and South (^arolina both saw the Church of England legally established till the contests of the Revolution. The mixed religious character of their population, including Hugue- nots, Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers, ren- dered this establishment ineffective, though these colonies were well served, in the eighteenth century, by missionaries of the society founded by Bray, and Charleston had a distinguished NEW ENGLAND CONGREGATIONALISM -.07 succession of rectors. Georgia was founded on the basis of toleration for all save Roman Catholics ; but not a little work was done by the missionaries of the Society for the Propaga- tion of the Gospel, and something has been said of the experi- ences of the Wesleys and of Whitefield {ante, pp. 511, 512). In general, it may be said that in the southern colonies in the period preceding the Revolution the condition of religion was low, and the existence of an establishment did little to improve it. The settlement of English Separatists and Puritans in New England, beginning in 1620, and the steps which led to the erection, between then and 1638, of the Congregational colonies of Plymouth, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Haven have already been noted {ayite, pp. 466, 469). Founded in re- ligious enthusiasm, possessing an educated ministry, these colonies made provision for its maintenance from their own sons by the founding of Harvard College in 1636 and of Yale College in 1701. Nor was effort neglected for the conversion of the Indians. The work of John Eliot (1604-1690), begun in 1646, led to the formation, in 1649, of the first missionary society in England (ante, p. 522). The early Congregational- ists of New England did not differ theologically from their Puritan and Presbyterian brethren in Great Britain. For their first century their controversies were regarding the develop- ments of polity rather than concerning questions of doctrine. By 1631, in Massachusetts, and speedily in the other adjacent colonies Congregationalism was established by law. A religious establishment there continued longer than elsewhere in the United States, in Connecticut till 1818, and in Massachusetts till 1834. Dissent from the established order appeared. There were occasional Baptists in the Massachusetts colony almost from the beginning, and in spite of governmental re- pression they organized a church in Boston in 1665. By 1705 there was a Baptist Church in Groton, in Connecticut. Quak- ers arrived in Massachusetts in 1656, and within the next five years four were hanged in Boston. They continued, however, to increase. Church of England worship was established in Boston, in 1687, and gained a footing at Stratford, in Connecti- cut, in 1707. Freedom of Protestant worship was granted by the Massachusetts charter of 1691, and by Connecticut lasy in 1708, and exemption from taxation for the support of Con- gregational Churches was granted to Baptists, Episcopalians, 568 BAPTISTS AND DUTCH REFORMED and Quakers, under somewhat onerous conditions, in both colonies, between 1727 and 1729. At the Yale Commencement of 1722 the rector, or president, of the college, Timothy Cutler (1683-1765), and Samuel Johnson (1696-1772), later (1754) to be the first president of what is now Columbia University in New York City, with one of the tutors at Yale, declared for epis- copacy. The event was important, not in the college, which deposed them, but as establishing a native episcopal ministry in New England, especially in Connecticut, where its labors were supported by the English Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. In general it may be said, however, that, though New England remained a religious land, the zeal of its founders had burned low by the opening of the eighteenth century, and isolation, wars with the Indians, and frontier conditions brought their inevitable provincialism. A highly individual development in New England was the settlement of Rhode Island. Providence was begun, in 1636, by Roger Williams (1604?-1684?), then under banishment from Massachusetts and an opponent of coercion in matters of re- ligion. Rhode Island became a refuge for those seeking free- dom of religious expression. In 1639 the first Baptist Church in America was established, of which Williams was for a short time a member, spending his later life as a "seeker." In spite of many internal troubles from an intense individualism, the broad principles of religious toleration on which Rhode Island was founded were well and honorably maintained. The Quakers, in particular, found in it a home. New York was permanently founded as a Dutch trading colony in 1624. By 1628 its first Dutch Reformed Church, the earliest representative of the Presbyterian polity in America, was formed. New York soon asserted, however, its cosmopoli- tan character. By 1644 the future city included in its inhabi- tants Dutch Reformed, Lutherans, Mennonites, English- speaking Puritans, and Roman Catholics. From 1652 onward an attempt was made by the colonial authorities to prevent any other worship than that of the Reformed Church of Hol- land. The Quakers were specially objects of repression. Dutch control ceased in 1664, when New York passed to the English, whose possession was finally confirmed ten years later. The English governors attempted to construe the Church of Eng- QUAKERS AND PRESBYTERIANS 569 land as established. The majority of inhabitants, especially as represented in the legislative assembly, offered successful opposition. In the foundation of Trinity Church, in 1697, the Church of England was effectively planted in New York City, though the Dutch Reformed and French Huguenots were then even more strongly represented. In 1709 a large German Re- formed immigration from the Palatinate came into the colony-. In 1720 the Dutch Reformed Church received a notable acces- sion in the arrival from Holland of Theodorus Jacobus Freling- huysen (1691-1747), whose remarkable ministry was exercised in New Jersey, but was to extend its quickening and organiz- ing influence to New York also. Of what was to become New Jersey, East Jersey saw the es- tablishment of Congregational settlers from New Haven colony, at Newark, in 1666, of the Dutch Reformed in the region of New Brunswick, and of Scotch Presbyterians. West Jersey received a large Quaker immigration in 1677-1678. Mention has already been made of the grant of Pennsylvania to William Penn, in 1681, and its settlement by Quakers in the following year (ante, p. 480). The Quaker policy of toleration attracted representatives of other forms of faith. Hence no other colony presented such a variety of religious bodies as Pennsylvania. Baptists from Wales and Ireland were soon more strongly represented than elsewhere in the colonies. Mennonites from Germany and Holland settled Germantown, in 1683. Dunkards and other German bodies soon followed. The Church of England was planted in Philadelphia in 1695, but was long feeble. The first half of the eighteenth century saw a great mflux of German Lutherans and German Reformed (Calvinists). The beginnings of the Moravians have already been noted (ante, p. 504). After the Stewart restoration of 1660 a new element, des- tined to be of great economic and political importance, the Scotch-Irish, came from the Scottish settlements in Ulster. They were devotedly Presbyterian. They found a missionary and an organizer in Francis Makemie (?-1708), who labored, certainly from 1691 onward, from New York to South Carolina. To his initiative the organization of the first American pres- bytery, that of Philadelphia, in 1705, was due. From 1713 nearly to the American Revolution the Scotch-Irish were pour- ing in like a flood. They settled much of Maine and New 570 THE GREAT AWAKENING Hampshire In New England, where, however, they were mostly absorbed by the Congregational Churches. In New York they constituted a large fraction of the population. Nowhere were they more strongly represented than in Pennsylvania, and by 1764 were able practically to wrest the political control of the colony from the Quakers. They sought prevailingly the fron- tier, and to this energetic race the settlement of what is now West Virginia, western North Carolina, and ultimately Ken- tucky, Tennessee, as well as large sections of South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama, was due. By 1717 a synod was formed, including the presbyteries of New York and New Jersey, Penn- sylvania, Delaware, and Maryland. In general the Scotch- Irish were long in a period of religious destitution, through lack of ministers and organized churches. Religion in America during the period till the second quarter of the eighteenth century was essentially the propagation of European bodies. Save in New England, it was relatively feeble, and there had suffered a serious decline of its original enthusiasm. No one religious body was dominant in the col- onies as a whole. While particular denominations were in- trenched in particular colonies, no church could become that of all the colonies. The way was thus made ready for that religious freedom which was to become the characteristic of the United States as a nation. The most far-reaching and transforming event of the eight- eenth-century religious life of America was the revival known as the Great Awakening. It was not only a tremendous quick- ening of the Christian life, it changed the conceptions of en- trance on that life in a way that profoundly affects the majority of American churches to this day. In this respect it was the analogue of Pietism in Germany or Methodism in Great Britain. It emphasized the conception of a transforming regenerative change, a " conversion," as the normal method of entrance into the kingdom of God. It gave general diffusion to the Baptist or Congregational view of the church as a company of experi- ential Christians. It laid little weight on Christian nurture. It promoted an ascetic theory of the Christian life. Some premonitions of the revival were to be seen under the preaching, in the vicinity of Raritan, New Jersey, of Theodorus Jacobus Frelinghuysen after 1720 (ante, p. 569). He had come under Pietistic influences in Holland. Near him, and impressed THE GREAT AWAKENING 571 by him, was Gilbert Tennent (1703-1764), the young Presby- terian minister of New Brunswick, New Jersey, whose powerful, though often injudicious, revival preaching began to show large fruitage in 1728. A remarkable revival began, in 1734, in North- ampton, Massachusetts, under the ministry of Jonathan Ed- wards (1703-1758). But all these manifestations of religious feeling were local compared with the general interest aroused by the first Evangelistic tour throughout the English-speaking colonies in 1739 and 1740 by George Whitefield, then in the height of his youthful enthusiasm {ante, p. 511). Everywhere throngs hung upon his words, faintings and outcries attended his sermons. Hundreds were permanently changed. The spiri- tual condition of many communities was transformed. Unfortunately the Great Awakening, with all its unquestion- able benefits, brought division in its wake. When Whitefield himself was denunciatory of those who did not agree with him as unconverted, it is not surprising that his followers and imitators were even more censorious and uncharitable. The Congregationalists of New England were soon divided into New Lights, who saw in the revivals a work of God, and the Old Lights, who disliked their method. A similar schism into Old Side and New Side occurred among the Presbyterians of the middle colonies. Harvard and Yale were Old Light in sen- timent. Many of the revivalistic ministers of the New Side party had been trained in the Log College, founded in 1728 by Gilbert Tennent's father, William Tennent (1673-1746). Some of these, with much New Light sympathy from New England, and under the auspices of the synod of New York, founded in 1746 the institution now known as Princeton University. While the revivals affected American religious ideals profoundly, two bodies, which had always emphasized Christian nurture, were relatively unaffected by them, the Lutherans and the Church of England— the latter proving, in New England, at least, a home for some of those who disapproved the revival methods. Intense as was the Great Awakening, and permanent as was its moulding effect upon American religious conceptions, its active period was brief. Men's minds were turned from strenuous interest in religion by a long series of military and political events of absorbing concern. The struggle begun in 1755, resulting in the conquest of Canada, had scarcely ter- minated in 1763 when it was followed by the controversies 572 . JONATHAN EDWARDS aroused by the Stamp Act, and by increasing friction with the mother country, resulting in the outbreak of the Revolution in 1775 ; the Declaration of Independence in 1776 ; the destruc- tive war till 1783 ; and the protracted discussions of the frame- work of the nation which did not terminate till the establish- ment of government under the Constitution in 1789. For more than a generation men's thoughts were absorbed in these questions, and religion in America was at low ebb. Many of the trusted political leaders were influenced by the Deism of England or France {ante, p. 492). The most significant re- ligious force arising during this period was the planting of American Methodism, beginning in 1766 (ante, pp. 517-518) — a sowing destined to a mighty harvest. Out of the discussions of the Great Awakening there emerged in New England the most considerable contribution that eighteenth-century America had to make to theology — in the work of Jonathan Edwards and his school. Born in a pastor's home in what is now South Windsor, Connecticut, in 1703, Edwards graduated at Yale in 1720. From 1727 to his dismissal, after a painful controversy, in 1750, he was pastor in Northampton, Massachusetts ; then missionary to the Indians at Stockbridge, in the same Commonwealth, till his removal to undertake the presidency of Princeton, a few weeks be- fore his death in 1758. A leader in the great revival, his was also the keenest philosophical intellect that colonial America produced. A Calvinist, emphasizing the absolute divine sov- ereignty in conversion against all Arminian modifications, in his Enquiry into . . . Freedom of Will of 1754 he held that while all men have natural ability to turn to God, they lack moral ability — that is, the inclination — so to do. This deter- mining inclination is the transforming gift of God ; though its absence is no excuse for sin. To Edwards's thinking virtue is love to intelligent being in proportion to the amount of being each possesses. Hence God, the greatest of all beings, justly seeks His own glory, while man by the same test must place the service of God and his fellows before his own advantage. Sin is, therefore, selfishness, and virtue disinterested benevo- lence. Edwards's views were developed by his disciples, Joseph Bellamy (1719-1790), Samuel Hopkins (1721-1803), Timothy Dwight (1752-1817), Edwards's son and namesake, Jonathan THEOLOGICAL DEVELOPIMENT 573 (1745-1801), and Nathanael Emmons (1745-1840). All of these insisted on a conscious conversion, involving a trans- formation from selfishness to "disinterested benevolence," as the method of entrance into the kingdom of God. To Hop- kins this "benevolence" was not complete in self-sacrifice un- less it involved a willingness to be damned, should that seem best to divine wisdom. The younger Jonathan Edwards, believing that Christ died for all and not for the elect only, was driven by the rise of Universalism to substitute the Gro- tian conception of Christ's death as a sacrifice to "general justice" {ante, p. 456), rather than a penal satisfaction for in- dividual sins. This "governmental" theory of the atonement largely dominated New England thinking till after the middle of the nineteenth century. This Edwardean school was strongly missionary in spirit, and from it most of the early New England foreign missionaries came. Meanwhile there developed in eastern Massachusetts, under the leadership of such men as Charles Chauncy (1705-1787) and Jonathan Mayhew (1720-1766), both of Boston, partly in opposition to revival methods, and also through the in- fluence of contemporaneous English Dissent, a "liberal" move- ment of a decidedly Arian tendency, though its separation and full development as Unitarianism was not to come till the be- ginning of the nineteenth century. The attainment of American independence thrust upon those religious fellowships that had heretofore been branches of Euro- pean communions the problem of separate American organiza- tion. In the condition of the new national life this must be organization independent of the state. As already independent of their European progenitors, such a task was not laid upon the Congregationalists or the Presbyterians. The Roman Catholics were still scantily represented within the bounds of the United States. They were under the su- perintendence of the vicar apostolic of London. In 1784 the much-respected John Carroll (1735-1817) of Maryland was ap- pointed prefect apostolic for the United States by Pius VI (1775-1799). Six years later Carroll was consecrated bishop of Baltimore. In 1791 the first Roman Catholic synod of the United States was held in Baltimore. In 1808 Baltimore, under Carroll, was made the seat of an archbishopric, while bishoprics were established in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bards- 574 THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH town (Kentucky). By Carroll's death the foundations of Ro- man Catholicism in the United States had been strongly estab- lished, and the priesthood numbered more than a hundred, though the immigration which was so enormously to augment this communion was yet in the future. No communion in America suffered so severely from the Revo- lution as the Church of England. Its ministry and congrega- tions were largely sympathetic with the mother country, and it emerged from the struggle in ruins. Its very name seemed un- patriotic, and that of "Protestant Episcopal" was adopted by a conference of clergv and laitv of Maryland in November, 1780. Two years later William' White (1748-1836), rector of Christ's Church in Philadelphia, and a hearty supporter of American independence, sketched out the plan under which the American Protestant Episcopal Church was essentially to be organized, in independence of the state and of English ecclesiastical control, with representative bodies composed not only of clergy but of laymen. He believed the prospect of securing an American episcopate remote. In accordance with White's suggestions, a voluntary convention, representative of eight states, met in New York City in October, 1784, and called the First General Convention to gather in Philadelphia in September, 1785. Meanwhile, the Episcopal clergy of Connecticut had held aloof and had chosen Samuel Seabury (1729-1796) as bishop, and he had gone to England for ordination in June, 1783. Finding it impossible to receive consecration from the English episcopate in the absence of action by Parliament, Seabury procured it at the hands of the Nonjuror Scottish bishops in Aberdeen in November, 1784. The General Convention of 1785 adopted a constitution for the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, largely the work of William White. It also appealed to the English bishops for the ordination of bishops for America. Seabury's Scottish ordination might be valid, but the derivation of orders from the parent English body was desired. The local Epis- copal conventions of the several states were asked to name bishops. The General Convention reconvened in 1786 was able to report that the English bishops had procured an enabling act from Parliament, and that William White had been chosen bishop of Pennsylvania and Samuel Provoost (1742-1815) of PROTESTANT EPISCOPACY. LUTHERANS btb New York. On February 4, 1787, they were consecrated by the archbishop of Canterbury. Bishop Seabury and Bishops White and Provoost, represent- ing different Hnes of consecration, looked upon each other at first with antagonism. Connecticut had not yet been rep- resented in the General Convention ; but these difficulties were adjusted, and in the General Convention of 1789 all parties united, the Prayer Book was revised and adapted to American needs, and the foundation of the American Protestant Epis- copal Church fully laid. Separation from the mother country made a similar inde- pendent organization for American Methodism imperative. The result was the ordination by John Wesley in September, 1784, of Thomas Coke, Richard Whatcoat, and Thomas Vasey, for work in America ; the Conference in Baltimore, the forma- tion of a Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States, and the ordination of Francis Asbury the same year {ante, pp. 517, 518). The year 1792 saw the abandonment by the (Dutch) Re- formed Church, and 1793 by the (German) Reformed Church, of a dependence on Holland which had long been weakening, but which now ended in complete self-government. One now very extensive American communion, the Lutheran, though not directly affected by the Revolutionary struggle to the degree characteristic of the bodies just mentioned, now de- veloped its organization on American lines. The earlier Ger- man immigration of the eighteenth century was prevailingly other than Lutheran. By the middle of that century Luther- anism was pouring in a flood, especially into Pennsylvania, though of course in numbers far smaller than the great immigra- tion of the nineteenth century. Religiously, the transition was difficult. The institutions of a state church could not be trans- planted, and little help came from Germany, save from the Piet- ists of Halle. Great disorganization and scarcity of ministers were the results. Some improvement was effected by Zinzen- dorf {ante, p. 505) ; but the great organizer of American Luther- anism was Heinrich Melchior Muhlenberg (1711-1787), who reached Philadelphia in 1742. Under his leadership the first Lutheran synod, or ministerium, was formed in Philadelphia in 1748. Quite as important for the future development of American Lutheran polity was the constitution prepared by 576 LUTHERANS. UNIVERSALISTS Muhlenberg for his Philadelphia congregation in 1762, by which all officers were chosen by the congregation itself. The two es- sential features of American Lutheranism were thus sketched — Congregational in respect to the local congregation, Presby- terian in respect to the standing of ministers in the synod. The synodical system spread slowly. The ministerium of New York was organized in 1786. A third synod was soon after formed in North Carolina. In 1821 a general synod, intended to be representative of all local synods, was formed, but only a portion of the Lutherans supported it, and this willingness of the rapidly multiplying local synods to group themselves as they choose has continued till recently characteristic of Am- erican Lutheranism. Steps taken in connection with the four hundredth anniversary of the Reformation, in 1917, promise the union of all American Lutheran bodies. One further religious body that developed during the period of struggle for national independence was that of the Universal- ists. Belief in the salvation of all occasionally appeared in eighteenth-century America as elsewhere as a sporadic specu- lation. The father of organized Universalism was John Mur- ray (1741-1815), who had been touched by Whitefield's preach- ing in his native England, and by the writings of James Relly (1722 ?-l 778), who had passed from the status of one of White- field's preachers to that of an advocate of universal salvation. It was as a disciple of Relly that Murray came to America in 1770, and began an itinerating ministry, chiefly in New Eng- land. A strict Calvinist, Murray believed that Christ had made full payment not for the sins of a restricted group of the elect, but for all men, and immediate blessedness would be theirs at the judgment, when all unbelief in God's mercy would vanish. For those who fully believe, the divine promised bless- edness begins now. A further impulse was given to Universalism when in 1780 Elhanan Winchester (1751-1797), a Baptist minister of Phila- delphia, independently of Murray, adopted Universalist views, which he advocated with eloquence. Unlike Murray, his gen- eral opinions were Arminian. Salvation is based on the ultimate free submission of all to God ; but will not be achieved in the case of the unrepentant till their spirits have been purified by protracted, but not eternal, suffering. Even more influential was Hosea Ballou (1771-1852), long a pastor in Boston. Mur- UNITARIANS 577 ray and Winchester had been Trinitarians. Ballou was an Arian, and in this Unitarian direction American UniversaHsm has followed him. The purpose of the atonement was moral — to set forth God's love to men. Sin brings punishment, here or hereafter, till men turn from it to God. By 1790 the Universalists were sufficiently numerous to hold a convention in Philadelphia. Three years later a New Eng- land convention was organized which in 1803 met in Winches- ter, New Hampshire, and adopted a brief creed which, though modified in 1900, is the historic basis of American UniversaHsm. The early converts to UniversaHsm were prevailingly, though not always, from the humbler walks of life. Unitarianism, on the other hand, won the allegiance of some of the oldest Congregational Churches and eminent men of east- ern Massachusetts. The growth of a "liberal" party before the Revolution has already been noted (ante, p. 573). Theo- logical discussion in that region was overshadowed by the momentous events of the struggle for independence. In 1785, however, the proprietors of King's Chapel, the ancient Church of England place of worship in Boston, excluded from the Prayer Book all references to the Trinity, thus becoming the first Unitarian congregation in America. Similar views spread, and criticism of the doctrine of original sin, of the Calvinistic theory of predestination, and an insistence on salvation by character were even more characteristic of the "liberal" move- ment than denial of the Trinity. With the incoming of the re- vival impulse at the close of the eighteenth century, of which mention will soon be made, and the consequent strengthening of the conservative element, a cleavage was soon evident be- tween the "liberal" and "orthodox" parties. A struggle be- tween the two over the theology of the Hollis professor of divinity in Harvard University resulted in 1805 in the vic- tory of the " liberals" by the choice of Henry Ware (1764-1845). Meanwhile, in 1803, WiUiam Ellery Channing (1780-1842) had begun a greatly respected and widely influential pastorate in Boston, and was preaching a high Arian Chri^stology. Increasing division, and attacks by the "orthodox," led m 1815 to the adoption by the "liberals" of the Unitarian name A sermon by Channing in 1819 at the installation of Jared Sparks (1789-1866) in Baltimore was widely regarded as the authoritative statement of the party, and gave to Channmg 578 THE GREAT REVIVALS henceforth an unofficial leadership in American Unitarianism. In 1825 the American Unitarian Association was formed. Though largely confined to eastern New England, the roll of Unitarian men of letters, philanthropists, and public servants is of eminent distinction. The periods of the Revolutionary contest and of the discus- sions resulting in the adoption of the Constitution of the United States were epochs of great religious depression. The last decade of the eighteenth century saw a marvellous trans- formation initiated. Without the aid of any single outstanding personality, like that of Whitefield in the "Great Awakening," a mighty reawakening of religious interest began. Felt in New England by 1792, within the next four years it was strongly manifested in the Middle States, whence it swept through the South, and by the dawn of the nineteenth century was in tri- umphant progress in the new West beyond the Alleghanies. In Kentucky it was felt with peculiar power. There the " camp- meeting" began in 1800 ; and there the revival was often accom- panied, as had been the "Great Awakening," by outcries and bodily manifestations. As a whole, this new revival period was far less marked than the earlier by these symptoms of over- wrought excitement. Its effects were none the less profound, and the new religious interest was long continued and trans- forming. Indeed, the revivals may be said to have continued, with less frequency and diminishing intensity till 1858, as the predominant feature of American religious life. Led as was this revival movement, on its human side, by men who fully shared the Pietistic and Methodist traditions of the eighteenth century, it emphasized the relation of the individual soul to God, and regarded a conscious conversion as the normal entrance into the Christian life. It was dis- posed to view that as scarcely religion for which some account of a transforming change in feeling could not be given. All American religious bodies except the Roman Catholics, Luth- erans, Protestant Episcopalians, Quakers, and Unitarians shared these convictions. Presbyterians and Congregational- ists, Methodists and Baptists, were in these respects essentially at one. But the Methodists and Baptists, to whom this type of piety was ,most native, found the largest popular following, aided by their willingness to use such ministerial instrumentali- ties, whether educated or not, as were available. They speedily MISSIONS. MINISTERIAL TRAINING 579 reached that numerical leadership which they have since main- tained among American Protestants. The fidelity of Congre- gationalists and Presbyterians to the tradition of an educated ministry made them founders of schools and colleges, but ren- dered their appeal less widely popular ; but all grew amazingly in numbers and power. Under the impulse of the new religious spirit American Chris- tian life blossomed with new activities. The Sunday school, first introduced from England (ante, p. 522) into Philadelphia in 1791, now became well-nigh universal. The prayer-meeting, heretofore only sporadic, became general. Foreign missions, inaugurated by the Congregationalists in 1810, by the formation of the American Board, with which the Presbyterians and (Dutch) Reformed co-operated, were adopted by the Baptists through the establishment of the General Missionary Conven- tion of the Baptist Denomination in 1814. The Methodists followed with their Missionary Society in 1819. The Protes- tant Episcopal Church took similar action in 1821. Nor was the progress of home-missionary effort in the United States less remarkable. The circuit-rider and the pastor kept pace with the progress of population westward, and state and na- tional organizations in the larger denominational bodies ener- getically supported the work. Ministerial training was greatly stimulated by the religious awakening. A prime purpose in the foundation of Harvard (163G), Yale (1701), and Princeton (1746) had been pastoral preparation. The ordinary curriculum had at first been deemed adequate, but it was supplemented at Harvard by the founda- tion of a professorship of divinity in 1721, and at Yale in 1755. More popular training throughout the eighteenth century was instruction in the home of some active pastor. In 1784 the (Dutch) Reformed Church instituted ministerial training ulti- mately removed to New Brunswick, New Jersey, which has often been called the oldest American theological seminary. More like a modern theological seminary was the school estab- lished in Baltimore in 1791 by Bishop John Carroll, with the aid of French Sulpitians, for training for the Roman Catholic priesthood. The United Presbyterians were beginning theolog- ical instruction later to find a home in Xenia, Ohio, in 1794. In 1807 the Moravians established a theological school in Naza- reth, Pennsylvania. 580 THE CUMBERLAND PRESBYTERIANS The most elaborately equipped theological seminary, and In many ways the inaugurator of a new era, was that opened by the Congregatlonallsts In Andover, Massachusetts, In 1808. Four years later the Presbyterians inaugurated a similar semi- nary at Princeton, New Jersey. In 1815 a Lutheran theological school was established in Hartwlck, New York. The Divinity School of Harvard University was opened under Unitarian aus- pices the same year. Bangor Theological Seminary, in Maine, was founded by Congregatlonallsts in 1816. The Baptists in- augurated Hamilton (New York) Theological Seminary in 1819. Two years later the Presbyterian School in Auburn, New York, was established, and in 1822 the Congregatlonallsts opened the Divinity School of Yale University. These institutions for ministerial training multiplied rapidly, and by 1860 had In- creased to fifty, a number since greatly augmented. The whole character of pastoral preparation was broadened, deep- ened, and systematized. Out of these religious awakenings there grew many divisions. One such of importance was the rise of the Cumberland Pres- byterian Church. The Cumberland region in Tennessee and Kentucky was powerfully stirred by the revival in 1800. Churches were rapidly multiplied, and In 1802 the Cumberland Presbytery was formed. The need of preachers was great, and the presbytery desired ministerial standing for some earnest young men who lacked the educational qualifications demanded by Presbyterlanism generally. The revival preaching had pro- duced a conviction that the doctrines that Christ died for the elect only, and that any portion of the race Is reprobate save by Its own personal acts, were hindrances rather than helps. The Kentucky synod viewed these departures with disfavor, and In 1806 ordered the Cumberland Presbytery dissolved. In 1810 the Cumberland Presbytery reconstituted itself as an independent body. Its growth was rapid. In 1813 a synod was organized, and In 1816 It took the name Cumberland Pres- byterian Church, though it was soon represented vastly more widely than the region from which the title was derived. The older Presbyterians and Congregatlonallsts worked in harmony In home missions in what have long been the northern central states under the plan of union formed in 1801 by the General Association of Connecticut and the Presbyterian General Assembly, till it was repudiated by the Old School THE DISCIPLES 581 wing of the Presbyterians in 1837, and by the Congregatlonal- ists in 1852. In general, however, denominational rivalries were keen and controversy bitter, especially in the extension work of the developing West. Out of an earnest conviction of the evils of these divisions a movement of much importance grew. Thomas Campbell (1763-1854) was a minister of the Secession Presbyterian Church (ajite, p. 553) of the north of Ireland, who came to America in 1807, and began work in western Pennsylvania. Here his freedom in welcoming Presbyterians of all parties to communion aroused criticism, and he was disciplined by the Secession Presbytery of Chartiers. Campbell felt it his duty to protest against such sectarianism, and to assert as the stand- ard of all Christian discipleship the literal terms of the Bible alone, as he understood it. Thomas Campbell now broke with the Secession Presbyterians, but continued to labor in western Pennsylvania, announcing as his principle: "Where the Scrip- tures speak, we speak ; and where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent." It was not a new denomination that he planned, but a union of all Christians on this Biblical basis, without added tests of creed or ritual. In August, 1809, Thomas Camp- bell organized The Christian Association of Washington — so-called from the Pennsylvania county of its origin — and for it he prepared the "Declaration and Address" which has since been regarded as a fundamental document of what was to be known as the Disciples movement. The same year Thomas Campbell's son, Alexander (1786-1866), emigrated to America, and was soon to outstrip his father in fame as an advocate of the former's views. In spite of their deprecation of sectarianism, the Campbells organized a church in Bush Run, Pennsylvania, in May, 1811. The Lord's Supper was observed each Sunday from the begin- ning. But doubts now arose as to the Scriptural warrant of infant baptism. In 1812 the Campbells and a number of their associates were immersed. A year later the Bush Run church became a member of the Redstone Association of Baptist Churches. Points of disagreement with the Baptists developed. The Campbells disliked the Baptists' strenuous Calvinism. To the Campbells the Old Testament was far less authoritative than the New. To the Baptists baptism was a privilege of the already pardoned sinner ; to the Campbells it was a condition 582 ADVENTISTS. MORMONS of forgiveness. Moreover, the Campbells, without being in any sense Unitarians, refused to employ other than Scriptural expressions regarding the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The result was a withdrawal from the Baptists, which may be said to have been completed by 1827. From this time onward the followers of the Campbells were practically a denomination, known popularly as Disciples of Christ. They are Congrega- tional in polity. Their growth has been remarkable, and has constituted the Disciples an important factor in American religious life. A peculiar development of prophetical interpretation was that of William Miller (1782-1849), a Baptist farmer of Low Hampton, New York. From 1831 onward he preached widely, asserting on the basis of calculations from the book of Daniel that the second coming and the inauguration of the millennial reign of Christ would occur in 1843-1844. He won thousands of followers. In spite of the failure of his prediction, his dis- ciples held a general conference of Adventists, as they styled themselves, in 1845, and have persisted to the present, some holding to the observance of the seventh day. Their belief that the coming of Christ is near, though at a date not deter- minable, is widely diffused among many who do not bear the Adventist name. A remarkable perversion of Christianity is Mormonism, founded by Joseph Smith (1805-1844), who claimed to have dug up, near Manchester, New York, in 1827, a volume of gold plates, the Book of Mormon, supplementary to the Bible, written in mysterious characters which he was able to translate by means of a pair of magic spectacles, but the original of which was removed by angelic agency. In this book Smith is proclaimed a prophet. The first Mormon Church was organized in 1830, in Fayette, New York. It was soon largely recruited in the neighborhood of Kirtland, Ohio. Here Brigham Young (1801- 1877) became a member. In 1838 the Mormon leaders removed to Missouri, and in 1840 founded Nauvoo, Illinois. In spite of the monogamy enjoined by the Book of Mormon, Smith claimed to have received a revelation, in 1843, establishing polygamy. Popular hostility led to his murder by a mob the next year. The church now came under the leadership of Brigham Young, an organizer and leader of the highest ability. Under him the Mormons marched to Salt Lake, in Utah, and EFFORTS FOR SOCIAL RIGHTEOUSNESS 583 a community of great material prosperity was inaugurated. After protracted conflict with the United States Government WOford Woodruff (1807-1898), then head of the Mormon Church, declared against polygamy in 1890. The Mormons have been indefatigable missionaries, and their numbers have been largely recruited from Europe. Their system of economic and social supervision has been remarkable and has produced a large degree of material prosperity. They hold that God was revealed as Adam, and that Christ, ]\Io- hammed, Joseph Smith, and Brigham Young were also manifes- tations of deity. By these divine beings souls are created, for whom the faithful should provide bodies. At their deaths the righteous will share in divinity. Salvation is through the atonement of Christ, by faith, repentance, and baptism by im- mersion; though baptism by proxy is of avail for the dead. Their numbers are such that the Mormons bid fair long to be an element in American religious life. The religious activity of the first half of the nineteenth cen- tury was accompanied by efforts for social righteousness. The death of Alexander Hamilton by the hand of Aaron Burr, in 1804, led to a wide-spread and largely successful attack by the religious forces on duelling, in which an extensively circulated sermon by Lyman Beecher (1775-1863) was of much influence. Temperance aroused the efforts of the Presbyterian General Assembly and of the Congregational Associations of Connecti- cut and Massachusetts in 1811. Lyman Beecher 's sermons against drunkenness, of 1813, attracted great attention. The American Society for the Promotion of Temperance was formed in 1826. The result was a great and permanent change in the drinking habits of professed Christians by 1830. Effort then turned toward a promotion of temperance among those not actively of the church. The Washingtonian movement of 1840 sought the reformation of drunkards. Prohibition by legislation was enacted m Maine in 1846. Its history has been checkered, but legislative prohibition has made great strides since the opening of the twentieth century throughout the United States, and has had the constantly increasing support of the actively Christian elements of American population.^ Slavery also aroused the hostility of Christian people, North and South, from the dawn of the nineteenth century. A great change came over the Southern attitude soon after 1830, partly 584 AN AGE OF CONTROVERSIES by reason of the supposedly industrial necessity of the system and partly through resentment by reason of the injudicious at- tacks of Northern Abolitionists on the character of all slave- holders. The question thenceforth was to be profoundly divisive, but with ever-increasing sensitiveness of the Northern religious consciousness to the evils of human bondage. The fourth and fifth decades of the nineteenth century were a period of controversy and division. The Presbyterian Church had been recruited from two main elements — the descendants of Scotch-Irish parentage and those of New England ancestry. The latter were inclined to greater doctrinal and administrative freedom. At the General Assembly of 1837 the Presbyterian Church was rent into two nearly equal bodies, the " Old School " and the "New School." Controversies of nearly equal intensity, though with less di\'isive results, turmoiled the Congregationalists of New Eng- land. Hartford Theological Seminary was founded in 1834 to offset the supposed errors of the Yale Divinity School, then under the leadership of Nathaniel W. Taylor (1786-1858). Horace Bushnell (1802-1876), of Hartford, Connecticut, in- fluenced by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (ante, p. 545), attacked the conception of Christian doctrine as based primarily on demon- stration to the intellect, then almost universal in America, and would substitute for such logical proof an appeal to the witness of the religious feeling. Bushnell's most influential pub- lication was his Christian Nurture, of 1847, in which he urged the quiet unfolding of the Christian nature of the child, un- der appropriate influences, as the normal method of entrance in the kingdom of God, instead of the struggling conversion which Pietist and Methodist tradition had considered the only legitimate experience. The Protestant Episcopal Church was turmoiled by disputes between the high-church and Evangelical parties. The most extensive separations were caused, however, by the contests anticipatory of or accompanying the Civil War. Growing antipathy to slavery led to the organization, in 1843, of the Wesleyan ]\Iethodist Church of America on the basis of no slaveowning membership. The question was thus in the foreground when the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church met in 1844, and an immediate struggle arose over the retention of a slaveholding bishop. Northern and DIMSIOXS OVER SLAVERY 585 Southern sentiment was hopelessly divided. The Conference adopted a report permitting the division of the church, with the result that the ^Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was constituted, in 1845. Contemporaneously a similar division separated the Bap- tists of North and South. The Alabama State Convention of Baptists demanded, in 1844, that the Foreign Mission Board make no discrimination against slaveholders in missionary ap- pomtments. The board declared that it would take no action implying approval of slavery. The result was the formation of the Southern Baptist Convention in 1845 and the cleavage of the churches. The rupture of the Old School Presbyterian body and the formation of the Presb\'terian Church, South, did not occur till 1861, after the outbreak of the war between the states. These divisions, unhappily, still continue, though signs are abundant of reunion in the not distant future. The Protestant Episcopal Church was divided only during the Civil War, and was reunited at its close. A pleasing illustration of an opposite tendency was the re- union, after much effort, of the Old School and New^ School Presbyterian Churches of the North, voted in 1869 and com- pleted in 1870. r- The last great revival, nation-wide in its scope, occurred in 1858, though many similar, though more local, movements have been felt to the present. Though the Pietist conception of religion has still continued predominant in American Protes- tantism, Christian nurture has won increasing allegiance, especially among Congregationalists and Presbyterians since the Civil War, and has greatly favored the growth of the Protestant Episcopal Church, which has always championed The Roman Catholic Church grew enormously in the United States throughout the nineteenth century, chiefly through immigration from Ireland and southern Germany, and since 1890 from Italy and eastern Europe. These races have been prolific in their new home. Bitter Protestant opposition was encountered between 1840 and 1860; but since the date last named relations between Protestants and Roman Catholics have been increasingly tolerant. The Roman Church has ac- complished an enormous task of buildmg churches, parochial 586 WOMAN'S WORK schools, convents, hospitals, and institutions of higher learn- ing through the gifts and sacrifices of a relatively scanty finan- cial ability. National councils have been held in 1852, 1866, and 1884. Long under the superintendence of the Congregatio de Propaganda Fide in Rome, Pius X (1903-1914) granted to the Roman Church in the United States in 1908 the same de- gree of autonomy enjoyed in European lands. An outstanding feature of American religious life since the war between the states is the steady increase in the demand for an educated ministry in those bodies which formerly laid little stress on training. This demand has been met by con- stantly increasing provision, and the older theological seminaries have steadily enlarged their facilities by augmented faculties and extension of the curriculum. The period has witnessed an ever-enlarging recognition of the work of women in the Protestant Churches. A Woman's Board of Foreign Missions was founded among the Congrega- tionalists in 1868. The Methodist Episcopal Church, North, followed in 1869; the Northern Presbyterians in 1870; and the Protestant Episcopal Church in 1871. Similar organizations for home and foreign missions are now well-nigh universal in American Protestantism. Women have long been eligible to the representative conventions of the Baptist and Congrega-. tional Churches. They won the right of election to the Meth- odist Episcopal General Conference in 1900. They have been ordained to the ministry by Baptists, Congregationalists, Disciples, Unitarians, and Universalists. The last half-century, especially the last twenty-five years, has witnessed a great theological change in American Protes- tantism, the exact extent of which it is diflBcult to estimate, so silently and unequally has it come. Certain outstanding evidences have attracted wide attention. Such were the con- troversies aroused among the Congregationalists by the "pro- gressive orthodoxy" of Andover Theological Seminary between 1885 and 1892. Such was the deposition of Professor Charles Augustus Briggs (1841-1913) by the Presbyterian General As- sembly in 1893. These tangible evidences have been few. Yet even in bodies oflficially bound by confessional statements of the Reformation age, the characteristic doctrines are pro- clafimed with little of their ancient satisfaction. The newer BibUcal criticism, especially of Germany, and the evolutionary RECENT TENDENCIES 587 view of development, have found large acceptance in many of the most influential schools of ministerial training, and have wide following among the ministry, especially in the northern and eastern portion of the United States. Equally marked, during the recent period, but as impossible of exact estimate, has been the growth of the conviction that the message of the Gospel is social. Not a rescue by individual salvation only, but the establishment of a reign of righteousness among men, has become increasingly the ideal. Christian out- look, without ceasing to be other-worldly, has become this- worldly also. Emphasis is placed on service in preventative and reformatory effort. The duty of the church to share in civic betterment is emphasized. A great enlargement has come in the conception of the church's mission. Adjustment has been awkward and has been but partially accomplished, since the organization of the churches has been adapted to the older and more limited vision. To find organs for the work of the new has not been easy. This difficulty has led to a large relinquishment to secular organizations, manned, indeed, chiefly by members of the churches and infused with the spirit of Christian helpfulness, of much social service with which the church should have a more direct relation. The sense of obli- gation in the churches is undeniably rapidly augmentmg. A patent evidence was seen at the outbreak of the world war, in 1914, when the question was widely asked whether that catas- trophe did not demonstrate the failure of Christianity. The question implies a vastly altered vision. To the thought of a century earlier the war would have been but another evidence of a world lying in wickedness, from which individuals might be rescued by the Gospel. To those who asked it the Gospel implied a transforming power for righteousness which ought to banish war and kindred evils from mankind in this present world. The same enlargement of conception of the scope of Christianity is evident on the mission field. The feeling animat- ing early American missionaries was that their task was to save a few individuals of the millions of hopelessly lost from their eternal doom. As recently as thirty years ago the proclama- tion of any other conception was widely declared to "cut the nerve of missions." The aim of missions has not been so much changed as immensely enlarged. The missionary seeks neces- sarily individual converts, but he strives, as his larger work. 588 CO-OPERATION to plant Christian civilization, to sweep away hoary supersti- tions and oppressions, and to foster a native Christianity which may be a transforming force to whole peoples. Never have gifts to missions been larger or missionary candidates more numerous than they now are. An outstanding feature of the existing religious situation in the United States and Canada is the decline of denomina- tional rivalries, and the increase of co-operation in religious work. Voluntary associations for co-operate Christian en- deavor have developed remarkably. Conspicuous have been the Young Men's Christian Association, founded by George Williams (1821-1905) in London in 1844, and since spread throughout the world, and its sister society, the Young Women's Christian Association, organized in England in 1855, and both peculiarly successful in the United States. They have never been more useful than during the world war. Less directly co-operant but uniting in similar aims have been the Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor, formed by Francis E. Clark in 1881 ; and the similar Baptist Young People's Union, the Epworth League, the Luther League, and the Brotherhood of St. Andrew. It is from missions that the strongest impulses to co-operation have come. A powerful force in this direction has been the Student Volunteer Missionary Movement, launched in 1886. The manifest impropriety of transferring denominational divi- sions to the mission field has led to large association of similar groups of Christians into single bodies in China, India, and Japan. The essential unity of missionary endeavor was mani- fest at the World Missionary Conference, held in Edinburgh in 1910, the influence of which has been potent. The evils of religious rivalries led, in the United States, to the establishment of the Home Missions Council in 1908, composed of represen- tatives of societies engaged in similar work. This has been followed by the Foreign Missions Conference of North America, the Council of Women for Home Missions, and the Federation of Women's Boards of Foreign Missions. These associations are voluntary. A federation of a more organic character was created, after considerable preliminary negotiation, by the formation in 1908 of the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America, composed of oflScial dele- gates from its co-operating churches. Its functions are ad- I i TENDENCIES TOWARD UNION 589 visory, not legislative or judicial. Its objects are: "To express the fellowship and catholic unity of the Christian Church. To bring the Christian bodies of America into united service for Christ and the world. To encourage devotional fellowship and mutual counsel concerning the spiritual life and religious activities of the churches. To secure a larger combined in- fluence for the churches of Christ in all matters affecting the moral and social condition of the people, so as to promote the application of the law of Christ in every relation of human life." The Federal Council now has the support of thirty denomina- tions, including such important bodies as the Northern Baptists, Congregationalists, Disciples, Lutherans (under the General Synod), Methodists, North and South, Presbyterians, North and South, Protestant Episcopalians, and the (Dutch and Ger- man) Reformed. A movement even more ambitious in its plans was inaugu- rated by the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States in 1910, aiming at an ultimate world conference on faith and order, which may effect the re- union of Christendom. The object has received the support of a majority of American Protestant bodies to the extent of official representation in several preliminary conferences which have been held, and an American delegation has urged co- operation in Great Britain with success. The world war has delayed the progress in other countries that was hoped. In Canada a movement for the organic union of Congrega- tionalists, Methodists, and Presbyterians has every prospect of success. The long story of the Christian Church is a panorama of lights and shadows, of achievement and failure, of conquests and divisions. It has exhibited the divine life marvellously transforming the lives of men. It has also exhibited those passions and weaknesses of which human nature is capable. Its tasks have seemed, in every age, almost insuperable. They were never greater than at present when confronted by a ma- terialistic interpretation of life, and when the furnace of almost universal war bids fair to transform the whole fabric of Euro- pean and American civilization. Yet no Christian can survey what the church has done without confidence in its future. Its changes may be many, its struggles great. But the good 590 THE FUTURE hand of God which has led it hitherto will guide It to larger usefulness in the advancement of the kingdom of its Lord, and toward the fulfilment of His prediction that if He be lifted up He would draw all men unto Him. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS No attempt is made to do more than indicate what volumes the reader of this History, especially if unacquainted with any lan- guage besides English, will find most useful. An encyclopaedia should be at hand. The following are especially serviceable: The New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, New York, 1908-12; Encyclopoedia of Religion and Ethics, Edinburgh and New York, 1908-17 (nine volumes to "Phrygians" thus far issued); The Catholic Encyclopaedia, New York, 1907-12; The Encyclopaedia Britannica, eleventh edition, Cambridge and New York, 1910. Source Books. — The following source books are indispensable: Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, New York, fourth edition, 1905; Joseph CuUen Ayer, Jr., A Source Book for Ancient Church History, from the Apostolic Age to the Close of the Conciliar Period, New York, 1913; Ernest F. Henderson, Select Historical Documents of the Middle Ages, London, 1912; James Harvey Robinson, Read- ings in European History, Boston and New York [1904, 1906]; Henry Gee and William John Hardy, Documents Hlustrative of English Church History, London, 1896. The selections in the volumes just enumerated are in English translation. For those who can read Latin and French the following work is of high worth: B. J. Kidd, Documents Hlustrative of the Continental Reformation, Oxford, 1911. All these source books are cited in this history. To any who can read Latin, Carl Mirbt, Quellen zur Gcschickte des Papsttums, Tubingen and Leipzig, 1911, is invaluable for papal de- velopment. Sources. — The following sources are readily available in Eng- lish translation: J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, The Apostolic Fathers, London, 1898; Kirsopp Lake, The Apostolic Fathers, two volumes. New York, 1913. The Ante-Nicene Fathers . . . Down to A.D. 325, ten volumes. New York, 1896. The translations are of varying excellence. This series is continued in the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. The First Series, fourteen volumes, New York, 1886-94, embraces the works of Augustine and Chrysostom. The Second Series, twelve volumes, New York, 1890-95, contains 591 592 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS the whole or selections from the principal writers from Eusebius to Gregory the Great. The first volume of this Second Series, Eusebius's Ecclesiastical History, translated and annotated by A. C. McGiffert, is indispensable. For those who read Greek and Latin much ampler sources are provided by J. P. Migne in his two great series, Patrologia Latina, two hundred and twenty-one vol- umes, Paris, 1844-64, extending to Innocent III; and Patrologia Grwca, one hundred and sixty-six volumes, Paris, 1857-66. The texts are often uncritically given. Of highest critical excellence for the early portion of the field covered by Migne are the Cor- pus scriptoruni ecclesiasticorum latinorum, in course of publication since 1866 by the Vienna Academy; and Die gricchischen christ- lichen Schriftstcllcr, issued since 1897 by the Prussian Academy. For the acts of councils the new edition (Paris, 1901-) of J. D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio, extending to the present, may be consulted. Papal letters and decrees may be found to 1304 in P. Jaffe, Regesta pontificum Romanorum, and his continuers, Leipzig, 1881-88; Berlin, 1874. The relations of the papacy and mediaeval empire may be studied in the great col- lection by G. H. Pertz and successive editors, Monumenta Ger- manicB historica, Hanover, 1826- to the present. John Huss's The Church is accessible in translation by David S. Schaff, New York, 1915. Luther's fundamental writings are translated by H. Wace and C. A. Buchheim, First Principles of the Reformation, Philadelphia, 1885; enlarged as Luther's Primary JVorks together with His Shorter and Larger Catechisms, London, 1896. Luther's Works are in process of publication in English, vols. I and II., Philadelphia, 1915. Much of Luther's table-talk is accessible in Preserved Smith and H. P. Gallinger, Conversations ivith Luther, Boston, 1915. Lutheran symbolics may be studied in H. E. Jacobs, The Book of Concord: or, The Symbolical Books of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, two volumes, Philadelphia, 1882-83. For those who read German and Latin the definitive edition of Luther's writings is the Werke, in process of publication in Weimar since 1884, of which more than fifty volumes have been issued. The TVTitings of Zwingli are accessible in S. M. Jackson, The Latin Works and Correspondence of Huldreich Zwingli, two volumes. New York, 1912, 1917. Most of Calvin's -WTitings are translated into English, as The Works of John Calvin, fifty-two volumes, Edinburgh, 1843-55. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 593 The student will find the Institutes indispensable. They are best translated by Henry Beveridge, in the series just cited, 3 volumes, Edinburgh, 1845-46, For those who read Latin and French the edition of the Strassburg editors, Joannis Calvini Opera, fifty -nine volumes, Braunschweig, 1863-1900, is a storehouse. The Works of James Arminius are available in English transla- tion by James Nichols and W. R. Bagnall, three volumes, London, 1825 and 1828, Buffalo, 1853. Hugo Grotius's Defence of the Catholic Faith Concerning the Satisfaction of Jesus Christ was trans- lated by F. H. Foster, Andover, 1889. The Racovian Catechism is a prime source for Socinianism. English translation, London, 1818. The general student will find much regarding the English Ref- ormation in Henry Gee and W. J. Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, London, 1896, already cited under Source Books; and in Charles Hardwick, A History of the Articles of Religion, Cambridge, 1859; and in Francis Procter and W. H. Frere, A New History of the Book of Common Prayer, London and New York, 1901. Puritan wishes can be studied in W. H. Frere, Puritan Manifestoes, a Study of the Origin of the Puritan Revolt, London, 1907; and S. R. Gardiner, Constitutional Documents of the Puritan Revolution, Oxford, 1899. The aims of Congregationalists are manifest in Willis ton Walker, The Creeds and Platforms of Con- gregationalism, New York, 1893; and W. J. McGlothlin, Baptist Confessions of Faith, Philadelphia, 1911, does a similar service for the Baptists. Any who would make a special study of the English Reformation will need to consult the Letters and Papers, Joreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII, twenty-one volumes, London, 1862- 1910; and Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, of the Reigns of Edward VI, Mary, Elizabeth, James I, twelve volumes, London, 1856-72. The writings of the leading English reformers were pub- lished by the Parker Society, Works of the English Reformers, fifty- four volumes, Cambridge, 1841-54. Many documents of prime importance may be found in E. Cardwell, Documentary Annals of the Church of England, two volumes, Oxford, 1844; Gilbert Burnet, History of the Reformation of the Church of England, Pocock's edi- tion, seven volumes, Oxford, 1865; and John Strype, Complete Works, twenty-seven volumes, Oxford, 1822-40. A collection of much importance for Scotland is [William Dun- 1. .pi A Collection of Confessions of Faith, Catechisms . . . of Public 594 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS Authority in the Church of Scotland, two volumes, Edinburgh, 1719— 22. Further study should be made of the Calendar of State Papers Relating to Scotland (1547-1603), six volumes, Edinburgh, 1898- 1910. The works of Knox and other Scottish Presbyterian lead- ers were published by the Wodrow Society, twenty-four volumes, London, 1842-. A similar service for the leaders of Scottish epis- copacy was performed by the Spottiswoode Society, sixteen vol- umes, Edinburgh, 1844-. Histories of Doctrine and Christian Thought. — The fol- lowing brief volumes will constitute a good introduction: Charles A. Briggs, History of the Study of Theology, two volumes. New York, 1916; H. B. Workman, Christian Thought to the Reformation, New York, 1911; A. C. McGiffert, Protestant Thought before Kant, New York, 1911; and E. C. Moore, History of Christian Thought Since Kant, New York, 1912. A more comprehensive work is George P. Fisher, History of Christian Doctrine, New York, 1896. A work of great value reaching to the Reformation, and with the quota- tions in English translation as well as the text, is Reinhold See- berg, Text-Book of the History of Doctrines, two volumes, Phila- delphia, 1905. For any who can read German the best work (to the close of the Reformation) is Friedrich Loofs, Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte, fourth edition, Halle, 1906. For the advanced student an indispensable work (to the close of the Ref- ormation) is Adolf von Harnack, History of Dogma, English trans- lation, seven volumes, Boston, 1896-1900. An illuminating treat- ment is that of Henry Osborn Taylor, The Medioeval Mind, two vol- umes, London and New York, 1914. Julius Kostlin, The Theology of Luther, English translation, two volumes, Philadelphia [1897], is to be commended. For later development, I. A. Dorner, History of Protestant Theology, Particularly in Germany, English translation, two volumes, Edinburgh, 1871. A very useful work is A. C. McGiffert, The Rise of Modern Religious Ideas, New York, 1915. The development of the modern situation may be further studied in Ernst Troeltsch, Protesiantisin and Progress, New York, 1912; W. E. H. Lecky, The History of the Rise and Influence of Rational- ism in Europe^ London, 1867; Andrew D. White, A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology, New York, 1896; Leslie Stephen, History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century, two volumes. New York, 1876; John TuUoch, Movements of Religious Thought in Britain During the Nineteenth Century, New York, 1901. The best work in its field is Frank H. Foster, A Genetic History of the New BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 595 England Theology, Chicago, 1907. A work of great suggestiveness is William James, Varieties of Religious Experience, New York 1902. Missions.— The following works will initiate the student into the story of Christian missions. Adolf von Harnack, The Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries, English translation, two volumes, New York, 1908; George F. Maelear, .1 History of Christian Missions During the Middle Ages, London, 1863; Gustav Warneck, Outlijie of the History of Protestant Missions, English translation, Edinburgh, 1906; Charles H. Robinson, His- tory of Christian Missions, New York, 1915; W. H. P. Faunce, The Social Aspects of Foreign Missions, New York, 1914. The Preparation. — Three small volumes will serve as an in- troduction to the Jewish situation. Charles F. Kent, A History of the Jewish People During the Babylonian, Persian, and Greek Periods, New York, 1899; James S. Riggs, A History of the Jewish People During the Maccabean and Roman Periods, New York, 1900; Shailer Mathews, A History of New Testament Times in Palestine, London and New York, 1913. The more advanced student will consult Emil Schiirer, History of the Jexcish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, English translation, five volumes, Edinburgh, 1885- 90, New York, 1896; A. B. Davidson, The Theology of the Old Testament, New York, 1904; R. H. Charles, The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, two volumes, Oxford, 1913. For the situation outside of Judaism, Wilhelm Windelband, A History of Philosophy, English translation. New York, 1901; Eduard Zeller, History of Greek Philosophy, English translation, two volumes, London, 1881 ; and his Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, London and New York, 1892; Franz Cumont, Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism, Chicago, 1911; T. R. Glover, The Conflict of Religions within the Roman Empire, London, 1909; Samuel Dill, Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, London, 1904. The Beginnings.— S. J. Case, The Evolution of Early Christi- anity, Chicago, 1914; Paul Wernle, The Beginnings of Christianity, English translation, two volumes. New York, 1903-04. The his- tory and present status of investigation regarding the life of Christ can be learned from Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus, English translation, London, 1910; William Sanday, The Life of Christ in Recent Research, New York, 1907; S. J. Case, The Historicity of Jesus, Chicago, 1912. The life of Paul is well treated in B. W. Bacon, The Story of St. Paid, Boston, 1904. The history 596 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS of Pauline investigation is discussed in Albert Schweitzer, Paul and His Interpreters, English translation, London, 1912; see also H. A. A. Kennedy, St. Paul and the Mystery Religions, London and New York [1918]. Excellent general discussions of the apostolic period are A. C. McGiffert, History of Christianity in the Apostolic Age, second edi- tion, New York, 1910; J. H. Ropes, The Apostolic Age, New York, 1906. A more elaborate treatment is Carl von Weizsacker, The Apostolic Age of the Christian Church, English translation, two volumes, London and New York, 1897. The following works will aid in initiation into the present status of New Testament discussion: H. S, Nash, The History of the Higher Criticism of the New Testament, New York, 1900; Edward C. Moore, The New Testament in the Christian Church, New York, 1904 ; James Moffatt, Introduction to the Literature of the New TeS' lament. New York, 1911. The Church in the Roman Empire. — The best introductory work is Louis Duchesne, The Early History of the Christian Church from Its Foundation to the End of the Fifth Century, English trans- lation, two volumes. New York, 1909, 1912. A good sketch is that of Robert Rainy, The Ancient Catholic Church, New York, 1902. A larger work on the early period is H. M. Gwatkin, Early Church History to A. D. 313, two volumes, London, 1909. Indis- pensable is Adolf von Harnack, The Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries, second edition, two vol- umes. New York, 1908. An elaborate work for the more advanced student is Wilhelm Moeller and Hans von Schubert, History of the Christian Church, First Volume to A. D. 600, English translation, London and New York, 1892. A readable collection of biographies is Frederic W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers, two volumes. New York, 1889. A suggestive volume is J. Estlin Carpenter, Phases of Early Christianity, New York, 1916. Early Christian life is admirably treated by Ernst von Dob- schiitz. Christian Life in the Primitive Church, English translation. New York, 1904. For the persecutions see H. B. Workman, Persecution in the Early Church, London, 1906; L. H. Canfield, The Early Persecutions of the Christians, New York, 1913; W. M. Ramsay, The Church in the Roman Empire before A. D. 170, Lon- don and New York, 1893. For the Apostles' Creed see A. C. McGiffert, The Apostles' Creed, New York, 1902. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 397 For the organization of the early church, Edwin Hatch, Thr Organization of the Earhj Christian Churches, London, 1895; Waller Lowrie, The Church and Its Organization, I^ondon and New York, 1904; T. M. Lindsay, The Church and the Ministry in the Early Centuries, London and New York, 1902; Adolf von Harnack, The Constitution and Law of the Church in the First Two Centuries, English translation, London and New York, 1910. For the High Anglican view see Charles Gore, The Ministry of the Christian Church, London, 1889; and his Orders and Unity, New York, 1909. A good guide to the non-canonical literature of early Christianity is Gustav Kriiger, History of Early Christian Literature in the First Three Centuries, English translation, I^ondon and New York, 1897. The student who can read German will have recourse to the monu- mental work by Adolf von Harnack, Geschichte dcr altchristlichen Litteratur his Eusebius, three volumes, Leipzig, 1893-1904. A good brief introduction to Christian archaeology is Walter Lowrie, Monuments of the Early Church, New York, 1901. For the church in the empire after the conversion of Constan- tine the student will find much of value in The Cambridge Mediaval History, vol. I, The Christian Roman Empire, New York, 1911. Good manuals on this period are A. H. Hore, Students' History of the Greek Church, London and New York, 1902; and W^. F. Adeney, The Greek and Eastern Churches, New York, 1908. Monasticism is discussed by H. B. Workman, The Evolution of the Monastic Ideal, London, 1913; and Adolf von Harnack, Monasticism; Its Ideals and Its History, English translation, New York, 1895. A mine of in- formation for the German reader is Max Heimbucher, Die Ordcn und Kongregationen der Katholichen Kirche, two volumes. Fader- born, 1896-97. A compact sketch of the councils is that of W. P. DuBose, The Ecumenical Councils, New York, 1896. Much fuller is K. J. Hefele, A History of the Christian Councils, English translation, five volumes, Edinburgh, 1871-96. Two special studies of unusual value are J. B. Bury, The Life of St. Patrick and His Place in History, London and New York, 1905; and F. H. Dudden, Gregory the Great: His Place in History and Thought, two volumes, London, 1905. The Church in the Middle Ages and to the Reformation. —The earlier portion of this period is well treated in The Cambridge Mediaeval History, vol. II, The Rise of the Saracens and the Founda- tion of the Western Empire, New York, 1913. A classic exposition 598 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS of the relations of the mediaeval church to the state is James Bryce, The Holy Roman Empire, new edition, London, 1904. A work of wealth of information regarding the ecclesiastical life and institu- tions is Andre hagavde, The Latin Church in the Middle Ages,Y,ng\ish. translation, New York, 1915. A classic treatment especially of the mediaeval papacy is Ferdinand Gregorovius, History of the City of Rome, English translation, eight volumes, London, 1894-1902. For the latter part of the period (1049-1517) a fresh and suggestive treatment is that of D. S. Schaff in continuation of his father, Philip Schaff 's HiMory of the Christian Church, viz., vol. V, Parts I and II (each an ample volume). New York, 1907, 1910. A general history of the period for the advanced student is Wilhelm Moeller, History of the Christian Church, vol. II, The Middle Ages, English translation, London, 1893. Special treatises of value are Gustav Kriiger, The Papacy: the Idea and Its Exponents, English translation. New York, 1909; and Paul Sabatier, Life of St. Francis of Assist, New York, 1894. Compact volumes of service are M. R. Vincent, The Age of Hil- dehrand. New York, 1896; J. M. Ludlow, The Age of the Crusades, New York, 1896j R. L. Poole, Illustrations of the History of Me- dicBval Thought, London, 1884. For English church history the student will find the following of use: William Hunt, The English Church from Its Foundation to the Norman Conquest, London and New York, 1899; W. R. W. Stephens, The English Church from the Norman Conquest to the Accession of Edward I, London and New York, 1901 ; W. W. Capes, The English Church in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, Lon- don and New York, 1900; G. M. Trevelyan, England in the Age of Wycliffe, London and New York, 1899. For an unsympathetic treatment see James Gairdner, Lollardy and the Reformation in England, vol. I, London, 1908. For Huss, David S. Schaff, John Huss, His Life, Teachings and Death, After Five Hundred Years, New York, 1915; and Schaff's translation of Huss's The Church, New York, 1915. For Savonarola, P. Villari, Life and Times of Girolamo Savonarola, English translation, two volumes. New York, 1888. Most valuable and extensive treatments of the period preceding the Reformation are given in Mandell Creighton, History of the Papacy from the Great Schism to the Sack of Rome, six volumes, London and New York, 1892. From a Roman point of view, Lud- wig Pastor, History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages, BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 599 English translation, twelve volumes, London, 1891-1912. Gre- gorovius, History of the City of Rome, already cited, continues of great worth for this period. The same may be said of The Cam- bridge Modern History, vol. I, The Renaissance, London and New York, 1902. The Reformation.— The student will find the best introduc- tion T. M. Lindsay, A History of the Reformation, two volumes. New York, 1906, 1907. A succinct treatment is Wiiliston Walker, The Reformation, New York, 1900. A more elaborate work of great value by Wilhelm Moeller and Gustav Kawerau is History of the Christian Church, vol. Ill, Reformation and Counter- Reformation, English translation, London, 1900. Volumes of great wealth of detail are: The Cambridge Modern History, London and New York, 1904-06, vol. II, The Reformation; vol. Ill, The Wars of Religion; vol. IV, The Thirty Years' War. For the Roman point of view see Johannes Janssen, History of the German People After the Close of the Middle Ages, English translation, sixteen volumes, London, 1896-1910. A good brief sketch is A. W. Ward, The Counter- Reformation, London, 1889. The life of Luther is well told in the following: A. C. McGiffert, Martin Luther, the Man and His Work, New York, 1911; Preserved Smith, The Life and Letters of Martin Luther, Boston, 1911; H. E. Jacobs, Martin Luther, New York, 1898. A study of great value is H. Boehmer, Luther in the Light of Recent Research, English translation. New York, 1916. A Roman estimate of Luther is that of Hartmann Grisar, Luther, English translation, London, 1913. Other biographies of Reformation leaders are: J. W. Richard, Philip Melanchthon, New York, 1898; Ephraun Emerton, Desi- derius Erasmus, New York, 1899; S. M. Jackson, Hiddreich Zwingli, New York, 1901; Wiiliston Walker, John Calvin, New York, 1906; H. Y. Reyburn, John Calvin, His Life, Letters and Work, London and New York, 1914; H. M. Baird, Theodore Beza, New York, 1899. For German conditions, Henry C. Vedder, The Reformation in Germany, New York, 1914. For France, H. M. Baird, History of the Rise of the Huguenots, second edition, five volumes. New York, 1895-1907. For the Netherlands, P. J. Blok, History of the People of the Netherlands, English translation, five volumes. New York, 1898-1912; Ruth Putnam, William the Silent, two volumes. New York, 1895. For the Anabaptist movement, A. H. Newman, A History of 600 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS Anti-Poedohaptism, Philadelphia, 1897; Henry C. Vedder, A Short History of the Baptists, Philadelphia [1907]; Henry C. Vedder, Balthasar Hvbmaier, New York, 1903; J. Horsch, Menno Simons, His Life, Labours and Teaching, Scottdale, Pa., 1916. For contemporary and later developments in the Greek, Russian, and other Oriental Churches: A. H. Hore, Student's History of the Greek Church, London and New York, 1902; W. F. Adeney, The Greek and Eastern Churches, New York, 1908. Great Britain in the Reformation and Since. — The English Reformation is carefully treated by James Gairdner, The English Church . . . from the Accession of Henry VIII to the Death of Mary, London and New York, 1902; and by W. H. Frere, The English Church in the Reigns of Elizabeth and James I, London and New York, 1904. Learned but unsympathetic is James Gairdner, Lollardy and the Reformation in England, four volumes, London, 1908-14. The Roman point of view is given by F. A. Gasquet, The Eve of the Reformation, London, 1905. Two biographies of high value are those of A. F. Pollard, Henry VIII, London, 1905; and Thomas Cranmer, New York, 1904. See also R. W. Dixon, History of the Church of England from the Abolition of the Roman Jurisdiction, five volumes, London, 1878-92. An excellent introduction not merely to the Scottish Reformation but to the whole religious history of Scotland is that of P. Hume Brown, History of Scotland, three volumes, Cambridge, 1902-09. A good sketch is D. Hay Fleming, The Scottish Reformation, Lon- don, 1910. For Knox see Henry Cowan, John Knox, New York, 1905. For the rise and history of Non-Conformity valuable introduc- tions are: Henry W. Clark, History of English Non-Conformity, two volumes, London, 1911, 1913; Champlin Burrage, The Early English Dissenters in the Light of Recent Research, two volumes, Cambridge, 1912; William Pierce, A71 Historical Introduction to the Marprelate Tracts, London, 1908; R. W. and A. W. W. Dale, History of English Congregationalism, London, 1907. A work presenting the Anglican point of view effectively for the latter part of Elizabeth's reign and the early years of James I is Roland G. Usher, The Reconstruction of the English Church, two volumes, London and New York, 1910. A general sketch from the same standpoint is W. H. Hutton, The English Church from the Accession of Charles I to the Death of Anne, London and New York, 1903. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 601 A mine of information regarding religious movements in six- teenth-century England, and especially the Quakers, is Robert Barclay, The Inner Life of the Religious Societies of the Common- wealth, London, 1879. For Fox see Thomas Hodgkin, The Life of George Fox, London and New York, 1896; and the extracts from Fox's Journal, edited by Rufus M. Jones, George Fox, an Autobi- ography, two volumes, Philadelphia, 1903. For the Methodist movement and its leaders see W. J. Town- send, H. B. Workman, and George Eayrs, A Nerv History of Method- ism, two volumes, London, 1909. Much relating to the religious condition of England is to be found in W. E. H. Lecky, History of England During the Eighteenth Century, eight volumes, London, 1878-90. See also Henry W. Clark, History of English Non- Conformity, already cited. For the high-church movement see R. W. Church, The Oxford Movement, London, 1891; J. H. Overton, The Anglican Revival, London, 1897; J. H. Newman, Apologia pro vita sua, London, 1864; J. T. Coleridge, A Memoir of John Keble, Oxford, 1869; H. P. Liddon, Life of Edward Bouverie Pusey, five volumes, London, 1893-99. Germany. — For Pietism and Rationalism see J. A. Dorner, History of Protestant Theology, Particularly in Germany, English translation, two volumes, Edinburgh, 1871; H. E. Guericke, Life of A. H. Francke, English translation, London, 1837. MoraA-ians, see John Holmes, History of the Protestant Church of the United Brethren, two volumes, London, 1825, 1830; A. G. Spangenberg, The Life of Nicholas, Count Zinzendorf, English translation, Lon- don, 1838; Augustus C. Thompson, Moravian Missions, New York, 1895. For Rationalism, the following work, though unsympathetic, is of value in the absence of much literature in English: J. F. Hurst, History of Rationalism Embracing a Survey of the Present State of Protestant Theology, revised edition. New York, 1901.^ See also K. R. Hagenbach, German Rationalism, English translation, Edin- burgh, 1864. For later developments see F. A. Lichtenberger, History of German Theology in the Nineteenth Century, English translation, Edinburgh, 1889; Otto Pfleiderer, The Development of Theology Since Kant and Its Progress in Great Britain since 1825, London and New York, 1893; Friedrich Paulsen, Immanucl Kant, His Life and Doctrine, English translation, New York, 1902; F. D. 602 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS E. Schleiermacher, On Religion, English translation, London, 1902; W. B. Selbie, Schleiermacher: A Critical and Historical Study, New York, 1913; A. T. Swing, The Theology of Albrecht Ritschl, New York, 1901; R. Mackintosh, Albrecht Ritschl and His School, London, 1915. America. — The most accessible and, on the whole, the most valuable outlines of the history of the principal religious denomina- tions in the United States are those in the series entitled American Church History, thirteen volumes. New York, 1893-97. Vol. XIII of this series, by L. W. Bacon, A History of American Christianity, is a compendious sketch of the religious life of the United States. See also Daniel Dorchester, Christianity in the United States, New York, 1895. Denominational histories of value, besides those in the "Ameri- can Church History" series, are: Abel Stevens, History of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church, four volumes, New York, 1864-67; Charles A. Briggs,^ American Presbyterianism, Its Origin and Early History, New York, 1885; S. D. McConnell, History of the American Epis- copal Church, New York, 1890; W. T. Moore, A Comprehensive History of the Disciples of Christ, New York [1909]. A sketch of the religious life of New England is that of G. L. Walker, Some Aspects of the Religious Life of New England, Boston, 1897. A wealth of biographical information regarding American min- isters of many denominations, to the middle of the nineteenth century, may be found in W. B. Sprague, Annals of the American Pulpit, nine volumes. New York, 1857-69. Typical American religious leaders are commemorated by Williston Walker, Ten New England Leaders, Boston, 1901 ; A. V. G. Allen, Jonathan Edwards, Boston, 1889; J. W. Chadwick, William Ellery Channing, Boston, 1903; T. T. Munger, Horace Bushnell, Boston, 1899; J. O. Mur- ray, Francis Wayland, Boston, 1891; George Prentice, Wilbur Fisk, Boston, 1890; J. W. Chadwick, Theodore Parker, Boston, 1901; W. W. Newton, Dr. [William A.] Muhlenberg, Boston, 1890; Lyman Abbott, Henry Ward Beecher, Boston, 1903; A. V. G. Allen, Phillips Brooks, New York, 1907. The following among many other volumes may be cited as illus- trative of recent tendencies in American religious thought : W. N. Clarke, An Outline of Christian Theology, New York, 1898 ; W. A. Brown, ChriMian Theology in O^dline, New York, 1906; Henry C. King, Theology and the Social Consciousness, London and New BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 603 York, 1902; his Reconstruction in Theology, London and New York, 1901; his Fundamental Questions, London and New York, 1917; F. G. Peabody, Jesv^ Christ and the Social Question, London and New York, 1901 ; his Jesm Christ and the Christian Character, London and New York, 1905; G. A. Gordon, Through Man to God, Boston, 1906; Walter Rauschenbusch, Christianity and the Social Crisis, London and New York, 1907; his Theology for the Social Gospel, London and New York, 1917; Shailer Mathews, The Gospel and the Modern Man, London and New York, 1910; and his The Church and the Changing Order, London and New York, 1913. The present tendencies to co-operation between American com- munions, especially as illustrated in the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ are discussed by C. S. Macfarland, The Churches of Christ in Council, New York [1917]. INDEX Abbot, George, archbishop of Canter- bury, 465, 466. Abelard, schoolman, 264-266; also 267, 273, 275. Abyssinia, church of, 157, 158. Acacius, patriarch of Constantinople, 135, 154. Acolytes, 90, 91. Act, the Conventicle, 474, 475. Act, the Five-Mile, 474. Act, the Test, 475. 547. Act, the Toleration, 476, 480, 495. Adaldag, missionary, 236. Ademar, bishop and Crusader, 240. Adeodatus, Augustine's son, 176, 178. Adrian VI. Pope, 351, 354. 422. Adventists, the, 582. iEthelberht, King of Kent, 198. Aetius, count of Italy. 132, Agape, the, 23. 43, 92. Agatho, Pope, 161. Agnes, Empress, 221, 225-227. Agricola, Rudolf, humanist, S27. Aidan. missionary, 197, 199. Aigulf, King, 192. Ailli, Pierre d", theologian, 307, 308, 338, 345. Alnsworth, Henry. Congregationalist, 463. Aistulf, King, 203, 204. Alaric, Visigoth, 131, 184. Alberlc, ruler of Rome, 215. Albert, coimt of Mansfeld, 325, Albert V, duke of Bavaria, 444. Albert, duke of Prussia, 355, 357. Albertus Magnus, schoolman, 256, 269. Albigenses, see Cathari. Alboraoz, cardinal, 296, 297. Albrecht, archbishop of Mainz, 340, 341. Albrecht, margrave of Brandenburg, 381. Alciati, Andrea, jurist, 390. Alcuin. scholar. 207, 210, 261. Aleander, Girolamo, nuncio, 346, 347. Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, 114, 115, 117, 146. Alexander, Popes, II, 227, 228, 276 {see Anselm of Lucca); III, 251-253, 285, 286; V. 303. 304, 308; VI, 318, 320. Alexander, the Great, 5, 11, 76. Alexander Famese, duke of Parma, 436-440. Alexander, of Hales, schoolman. 269, 276. Alexander Severus, Emperor, 85. Alexandria, school of, 76, 77. Alexius, Emperors, I, 239, 240; III, 243. Alfonso IX, King of Leon, 287. Alfred, the Great, King of England. 211. Allemand. Louis d". cardinal, 312. Allen, William, cardinal, 438, 440. Alogoi, the, 72. Alva, the duke of, general, 434, 436. Alypius. 176. 178. Amadeus. duke of Savoy, see Felix V. Amalrlch, of Bena, mystic radical, 282. 283. Amboise, conspiracy of, 432. Ambrose, bishop of Milan. 140, 141; monastlcism. 138; hymns, 107; preacher, 168: and Augustine, 176, 178; mentioned, 128. 165, 173, 190. 330. Amsdorf, Nikolaus von, reformer, 340, 349, 380, 442, 443. Anabaptists (see also Baptists), 366- 373; beliefs, 368, 369; MUnster, 374. 375; toleration, 457; Anti-Trini- tarian. 369, 451; see also 433. 437. 453, 461. Anacletus II, Pope, 247. Anastasius, Emperor, 135. Anaxagoras, philosopher, 3. Andersson. Lars, reformer, 385. Andover controversy, the, 539, 586. Andrese, Jakob, theologian, 443. Andrews, Lancelot, bishop, 465. Angelico. Fra. painter. 316. Angels, worship of, 171. Anglo-Catholic movement, the, 547- 649. Anicetus, bishop of Rome. 64. Anne, of Cleves, Queen of Henry VIII. 407. Anne, Queen of Great Britain, 552. Anno, archbishop of Cologne, 227, 228. Ansehn, bishop of Lucca, 225. 226. Anselm, theologian and archbishop of Canterbury, 233, 263, 264; on the atonement, 263, 264, 456; see also 267, 271. 272, 338. Ansgar, missionary, 213, 214, 236, 237. Anthony, monastic founder, 137. 605 006 INDEX Antioch, the school of, 106. 114, 115. 141, 144, 145, 156. Antiochus IV. Eplphanes, King, 12. Antoine, King of Navarre, 432. 433, 435. Antoninus Pius, Emperor, 49-51. Apollinaris, bishop of Laodicea. theo- logian, 143, 144, 146, 149. Apologists, the, 50. Apostles' Creed, see Creed. Apostolic Fathers, see Fathers. Apostolic poverty, see Poverty. Apostolical succession, see Bishops and Succession. Aquinas, Thomas, life, 270; theology. 271-277; mysticism, 279; see also 256, 291, 324, 332, 340, 562. Arcadius, Emperor, 131, 142. Archelaus, Jewish ruler, 14. Architecture, Gothic, 245. Aresen, Jon, bishop in Iceland, 384. Arlanism, 114-128; missions. 129. 130; renounced, 134, 191, 192. Aristides, Apologist, 50. Aristotle, philosopher, system, 4. 5; school of Antioch, 145; Leontius, 155; schoolmen, 267, 269; see also 51, 163, 279, 282. 294, 338, 340, 341, 481, 542. Arius, theologian, pupil of Lucian, 106; controversy, 114-119, 144; death, 119. Arkwright, Richard, inventor, 507. Aries. Council of, see Council. Armada, the Great, 439. Armenia, the Gregorian Church. 158, 159, 312. Arminianism, 453-457, 464, 466, 468, 516. Arminius, Jacobus, theologian, 454. Amdt, Johann, mystic, 496. Arnold, Gottfried, historian, 501. Arnold, of Brescia, radical. 247, 248. Arnold. Thomas, broad-church leader, 545. Arnulf, Emperor, 216. Artemon, Christology, 72. Articles, the Lambeth, 464. Articles, the Marburg, 370. Articles, the Schwabach, 371. Articles, the Thirty-nine, 410, 414, 415. 495. Asbury, Francis, Methodist, 517, 518, 675. Ascension, the, 169. Asclepiodorus, Christology, 72. Assembly, Westminster, 471, 472, Astruc, Jean, Biblical critic, 528. Ataulf, Visigoth, 131. Athanasius, theologian, bishop of Alexandria, life. 117-125; motives. 118; monasticism. 138; subordina- tion, 74. 180; see also 143, 144, 146. 168. Athenagoras, Apologist, 50, Atonement, the, views of Origen, 82; Augustine, 181; Anselm, 263, 264; Abelard, 265; Aquinas, 272; Calvin, 393; Socinians, 453; Grotius, 456; Edwards, 573. Attila, conqueror, 132. Attis, worship of, 10. Atto, archbishop of Milan, 228. Augsburg, Confession of, see Confession. Augsburg, Peace of, see Peace. August, Elector of Saxony, 443. Augustine, missionary to England, 198. Augustine, theologian, early life, 175- 177; Neo-Platonism, 177-179, 5, 107 conversion, 177, 178; later life. 178 mysticism, 179; Confessions, 179 on the Trinity, 179, 180; man's fallen state, 181, 182; grace, 182; the church 182. 183; sacraments, 183, 184; the City of God. 184, 207, 212, 229; Pelagian controversy, 178, 182, 185- 192; purgatory, 193; influence on Scholasticism, 269; study of, revived, 279, 298, 327; Luther, 337-339; see also 138, 168, 210, 211, 255, 262, 271. 330. 332, 453, 481, 484, 556, 557. Augustinus Triumphus, papal advo- cate, 295. Augustus, Emperor, 8, 15, 206, 217. Aurehan, Emperor, 84, 87, 104, 129; decides against Paul of Samosata, 73, 106. Aurelius, bishop of Carthage, 186, Authari, King, 192. Auxentius, bishop of Milan. 140. Averroes, philosopher, 282. Awakening, the Great, 511, 570, 571, 578. Bacon, Sir Francis, philosopher, 483. Baldwin, Emperor, 243. Baldwin I, King, Crusader, 240, 241. Baldwin II, King, Crusader, 241, 243. Ballou, Hosea, Universalist. 576. 577. Bancroft. Richard, archbishop of Can- terbury, 462-465. Baptism, general view, 93-97; primi- tive, 24; foundation of the church, 42, 43, 94; in name of Christ or of the Trinity, 58, 95; instruction be- fore, 61 ; cleanses previous sins, 68, 95; necessary for salvation, 94; mode of, 96; combined with confirmation, 96; separated from confirmation, 166, 167; infant baptism, 95, 96; sponsors, 96; by whom administered, 96, 97; valid, 97; Augustine, 182, 183; Aquinas, 273. Baptists, see also Anabaptists, English, 367, 368, 465, 466, 472, 477, 478, 519, 550; immersion, 466; in America, 566-570, 579-581, 585, 586, 589; missions, 523. Barlow, William, bishop, 414f I INDEX 607 Barnabas, epistle of, 42, 62. Barnabas, missionary, 27-29. Baro, Peter, Arminian views, 463. Barrowe, Henry, Congregationalist, 463. Bartholomew, massacre of St., 435, 438. Basil, bishop of Ancyra, 123. Basil, Emperors, I, 236; II, 236. Basil, the Great, bishop and theologian, 125-127, 137, 138, 197, 330. BasiUdes, Gnostic, 56, 77, 169. Baur, P. C, historian and New Testa- ment critic, 536, 539, 541, 543. Baxter, Richard, Puritan, 474. Bayazid II, Sultan, 318. Beaton, David, Scottish cardinal, 416. Beaton, James, archbishop of St. An- drews, 416. Beatrice, countess of Tuscany, 225, 226, 230. Becket, Thomas, archbishop of Can- terbury, 286. Bede, historian, 200, 261. Beecher, Lyman, preacher and re- former, 583. Beghards, the, 260. Beguines, the, 260, 283. Belisarius, general, 133. Bellamy, Joseph, New England theo- logian, 572. Benedict, of Aniane, monastic re- former, 218, 219. Benedict, of Nursia, monastic re- former, 138; his "Rule," 139, 218. 219, 246. Benedict, Popes, V, 272; VIII, 218; IX, 218, 221. 222; X, 226; XI, 291; XIII, 298, 308, 309: XIV, 555; XV, 664. Benedictines, 138, 139, 218, 219. Bengel, Johann Albrecht, Biblical scholar, 528. Berengar II, King of Italy, 217. Berengar, on the Lord's Supper, 262, 263. 265. Berhta. Queen of Kent, 198. Berkeley, George, philosopher and bishop. 489, 507. Bern, Reformation in, 363, 386. Bernard, of Clairvaux, life and teach- ings, 246-248, 265; Second Crusade, 242; Luther, 337, 338; see also 249, 266. Bemhard, of Saxe-Weimar, general, 449. Bemo, abbot of Cluny, 219. Berquin, Louis de, Protestant mar- tyr, 331, 390. Bessarion, bishop of Nicsea. cardinal and humanist, 311, 312, 315. Beukelssen, Jan, Anabaptist, 375. Beza, Theodore, reformer, 401, 422, 432. Biandrata, Giorgio, Unitarian, 451, 452. Bible, reading of, prohibited, 253. Biddle, John, Unitarian, 494. Biel. Gabriel, theologian, 338. Bilson, Thomas, bishop, Anglican con- troversialist, 462. Bishops, in Jerusalem, 7 24 ; collegiate. 45, 46; monarchical. 47; apostolicai succession, 48; the Gnostic struggle, 59-61; Rome, 64; Cyprian, 70, 89; guardians of the faith. 88; discipline, 88; city and country bishops, 88; relative rank, 89; choice and ordina- tion, 89, 90; support, 91; metro- politans, 164, 165, 208, 209; incomes, 165; under Charlemagne, 208; arch- bishops, 209, 212; English, 414; Danish, 384; Swedish, 385; Mora- vian, 502-505; Methodist, 517, 518. Blaurock, Georg, Anabaptist, 367, 369. Bobadilla, Nicolas, Jesuit, 425. Boccaccio, humanist, 314. Bogomiles, the, 235, 249. Bogue, David, missions, 523. Bohemund, of Taranto, Crusader, 240. Bohler, Peter, Moravian, 512, 514. Bohme, Jakob, mystic, 451. Boleslaus I, King, 237. Boleyn, Anne, Queen, 402, 403, 405. Bolsec, Jerome Hermes, contest with Calvin, 398. Bonaventura, theologian, mystic, 261, 270, 279. Boniface, coimt of Africa, 132. Boniface, missionary bishop, 201-203. 209. Boniface, Popes, II, 189; VIII, 290-292; IX, 297. Booth, William, Salvation Army, 551. Bora, Katherine von, 355, 356. Borgia, Cesare, 318. Borgia, Lucrezia, 318. Boris, King of Bulgaria, 214. Boston, Thomas, Scottish divine, 652. Both well, James Hepburn, earl of, 421. Botticelli, painter, 316. Bousset, Wilhelm, cited, 31, 544. Bownde, Nicholas, the Sabbath, 466. Bradford, William, Congregationalist. 465, 466. Bray, Guy de, reformer, 433. Bray, Thomas, Anglican organizer, 508, 566. Brethren of the Common Life, the, 281, 282. Brewster, William, Congregationalist, 465, 466. Briconnet, Guillaume, bishop of Maux, 331, 386, 390. Briggs, Charles Augustus, Biblical scholar, 586. Browne, Robert, Congregationalist, 461, 462. Bucer, see Butzer. Bude, Guillaume, scholar, 331, 390. 608 INDEX Bugenhagen, Johann. reformer, 349, 364, 371, 384. Bullinger, Heinrich, reformer, 365. Burghley, William Cecil, Lord, 413. Biirgundians, the, 130-134. Bushnell, Horace, Congregational theo- logian, 584. Butler, Joseph, bishop, theologian, 487, 489, 490, 507. Butzer, Martin, reformer, 341, 363, 372, 376, 377, 386, 392, 394, 396, 410. ; CsBCillan, bishop of Carthage, 113. CsBsarlus, bishop of Aries, 189, 193. Cajetanus, Thomas Vio, cardinal, 342. Calixtus, Popes, I, see Kallistos; II, 234; III, 316-318. Calvin, John, early life, 389, 390; con- version, 391; the Institutes, 392. 394. 396; theology. 392-394; in Italy. 394, 395; early stay in Geneva. 395; banished, 396; in Strassburg, 396; return to Geneva. 396; ecclesiastical constitution, 396-398; contests, 398, 399; with Bolsec, 398; with Servetus, 399; victory, 399, 400; academy, 400; influence, 400; death, 401; see also 246, 366, 376, 411, 415, 417-419, 423, 424, 431. Calvinism, in Germany, 443, 444, 450. Cameronians, the, 477, 478. Campbell, 'Alexander, Disciple,'581, 582. Campbell, Thomas, Disciple, 581. Campeggio, Lorenzo, papal legate, 355, ■ 372. Campion, Edmund, Jesuit martyr, 438. Cano, Melchior, theologian, 324, 428. Canon, Marcion's, 57; Muratorian, 62. Canon law, see Law. Canstein, K. H. of. Bible society, 500, 521. Canute, King, 236. Capito, Wolfgang, reformer, 363. Caracalla, Emperor, 79, 84, 85. Caraccioll, Galeazzo, marquis of Vlco, 424. Caraffa. Giovanni Pietro, later Pope Paul IV, 375. 423. 424, 428. Cardinals, the. origin of. 222, 223; re- formed by Leo IX, 223; in papal elections, 227. Carey, William, missionary, 522, 523. Oaroll. Pierre, controversialist, 395. Carolina. North and South, colonial religious conditions. 566. Carpzov. J. B., theologian. 498. 499. Carroll. John, archbishop, 573, 574, 579. Carthusians, the. 404. Cartwright. Edmund, inventor. 507. Cartwright. Thomas. Puritan. 459, 460. Castellio, Sftbastien, toleration, 399. Catechism, the Heidelberg. 443. 455. Catechism, the Racovian, 452. Catechism, the Westminster, 472. Catechumens, 166, 167. Cathari, the, spread and teachings, 249-251, 255; crusade against, 253- 255, 288; see also 107, 235. Catherine, of Aragon, Queen of Eng- land. 402, 403, 405. Catherine de' Medici, Queen of France. 432, 435, 440. Catherine, St., of Siena, 297, 319. Catholic, the description, 59. Catholics, English, imder Elizabeth, 438, 439. Celestine I, Pope, 147, 148. Celsus, heathen controversialist, 80, 105. Celtes, Conrad, hvmianist, 328, 360. Cerdo, Gnostic. 56. Chalcedon, Coimcil and creed of, see Council, Creed. Chalmers, Thomas, Scottish leader, 654. Chandieu, Antoine, Calvinist, 431. Channing, W. E., Unitarian, 577. Charlemagne, Emperor, life and work. 205-208; relation to the church, 207- 209; see also 132, 139, 210-212, 216- 218, 234, 285, 326, 346. Charles, the Bald, Emperor, 210. Charles, the Bold, duke of Burgimdy, 326. Charles III, duke of Savoy, 388. Charles IV, Emperor, 302. Charles V, Emperor, election, 346; at Worms, 347, 348; at Augsburg, 371- 373; reunion efforts, 376. 396; his great plan. 375-379; the Interims, 380; failure. 381. 382; death, 382; see also 322. 324. 326. 329. 343. 351, 356. 392, 402, 403, 407, 411, 423. 427. 430, 433. Charles, Kings of England, I, policy, 468-470; the civil war, 470-472; executed, 473; II, restoration and policy, 473-475. 480. Charles. Kings of France. V, 307; VII, 313; VIII, 318, 320; IX, 432, 435, 436. Charles Martel, ruler of the Franks. 160, 200-203. 208. Charles of Anjou. Naples, 288, 289. Chauncy, Charles, Liberal, 573. Chemnitz, Martin, theologian, 443. Cheyne, T. K., Biblical scholar, 546. Choiseul, duke of, 557. Christ, life and teaching, 14-20; see Chrlstology. Christian, Kings of Denmark, II, 383- 385; III, 383. 384; IV. 447; VI, 504. Christmas, celebration of, 169. Christology. primitive, 23, 24, 35: Pauline, 36, 37; the synoptics, 37, 38; John, 38, 39; Hermas. 39. 72; Justin Martyr, 51. 52; Gnostic. 53-55; INDEX C,Ci9 Marclon, 56, 57; Irenaeus, 66; Ter- tuUian, 69. 71, 75. 114; Logos Christology, see Logos; Monarchlans 72-75; Paul of Samosata, 72. 73 Sabellius, 73, 74; Hlppolytus. 74. 75 Kallistos. 75; Novatian. 75-76, Clement of Alexandria. 78; Origen, 81. 82; the Arian controversy, 114— 128; the great Christological con- troversies, 143-161; Apollinaris, 144; school of Antioch, 144, 145; Nes- torius, 145. 146; Cyril. 146; "Mother of God," 146-148; Eutyches, 150; Chalcedon, 151, 152; Monophysites, 153; Leontius, 155; Augustine, 179- 181; EUpandus and Felix, 207; taulician, 235; Cathari, 249, 250; Eckhart, 280; Servetus, 399; Socin- ian, 452, 453; Moravian, 505, 506; Hegelian, 535; Ritschlian, 543. Chrodegang, bishop of Metz, 209. Chrysippus, Stoic philosopher, 6. Chrysoloras, Manuel, Greek scholar- ship, 315. Chrysostom, career 'and services, 141, 142; see also 145, 169, 188, 330. Church, the, early use of name, 22, 23 ; by Paul, 32; early conceptions, 42. 43; primitive organization, 23; char- ismatic leaders, 44; development of officers, 45-48; the name "Catholic," 59; the Catholic Church. 59-63; Cyprian on. 70. 71; organization in the third century, 87-91; of whom composed, 102; experiential Chris- tians, 102; an agency for salvation, 103; Constantino brings freedom, 108, 112; property, 165; States of the church, 204; Frankish church, 208, 209; Augustine on, 182, 183; Marsilius of Padua on, 294; Wyclif on, 299, 300; Huss on, 303; Prierio on, 342; Luther on, 351, 352; Cal- vin on, 394; Lutheran, 357, 358, 371; Anabaptist, 368; Congregational. 461. Church, the Catholic Apostolic, 550. Church, the Jansenlst, 557. Church of England, in American col- onies, 565-569; organized as the Protestant Episcopal and bishops secured, 574, 575; divisions, 584, 585; growth, 585; proposed world confer- ence. 589. Cid. the. 239. Cimabue, painter, 316. Cistercians, the, 245, 246. Clark, Francis E., Christian Endeavor, 588. Clarke, Samuel, Arian, 494. Claudius, Emperor, 26. Claudius Gothicus, Emperor, 12©. Cleanthes, Stoic philosopher, 6, 7. Clemanges, Nicholas of, 307. Clemens, Flavins, consul, 33. Clement, of Alexandria. theoIoKlan. life and teaching, 77-79. S.J. Clement, of Rome. Apo.stollc Father, 35, 36. 42, 46. 4S, (H, 03. 89. Clement. Popes. II. 222; III, C'ountor- Pope. 231. 232. spr Wilx-rt; IV. 2H<»: V. 284. 291. 292. 295; VI. 294 (VII. Avignon. 297. 298); VII. 354-357. 372, 375. 402, 403, 422; XIV. .0.18. Clement, Second, sermon. 42, 102. Cleomenes, Christology. 73. Clerc. Jean le. Biblical scholar. 528. Clergy, distinguished from laity. 89; major and minor orders, 90, 91 ; K-g^il exemptions. 112. Clerical celibacy and marriage. 104, 162, 165, 166, 213, 232, 547. Clovis, Frankish King, 133, 1.34, 200. Cluny, monastery, founded, 219; aims, 219-221. Coccejus. johann. theologian. 472. CcBlestius, Pelagian. 180. 187. Coke, Thomas, Methodist, 517, 518. 575. Colenso, J. W., bishop, 546. Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, philosopher, 545, 584. Colet, John, humanist, 315. 329. 331. 401. Collgny, Gaspard de. Huguenot, 432, 433, 435. Collins, Anthony, Deist, 487. Colloquy, the Marburg. 370. Colman. British bishop. 199. Colonna. Sciarra. adventurer. 291. Columba, missionary to .Scotland. 196. Columbanus, missionary to the Conti- nent, 197. Comgall, Irish founder, 197. Commodas, Emperor, 49, 84, 85. Compton, Henry, bishop of London, 508. Concordats, papal, of Worm.s, 234, 285; with Ferdinand and Isabella. 322; with Francis I, 319, 321; with Napoleon, 558, 559. Conde, Louis, prince of, 432. 433. Confession, public, 100. lul: private. 197. 208, 352; requiriHl, 27.';, 288. Confession^ the Augsburg, 371, 373. 383. 386. 444. 505. Confession, the Belglc, 433, 450. Confession, the Westminster, 471, 472, 478. Confirmation, development of, 100. 167. Congregationalists. the, origin and principles, 400—403; emigration to Holland and America, 405, 406, 469; see also for England, 472, 473. 477. 495, 519, 523. 5.50; In America. 667. 568. 570. 579. 580. 589. Conrad. Kings and Emperors. I. 216: JI. 218. 221; III. 242; IV, 28S, 289. 610 INDEX Conrad, of Gelnhausen, conciliar theory, 307. Conrad, of Waldhausen, Bohemian preacher, 302. Conradin, executed, 289. Constans, Emperors, I, 119-121; II, 160, 161. Constantine, donation of, 204, 205, 212, 315. Constantine I, Emperor, a Christian, 108, 110; struggle, 109-111; the Edict of Milan, 111; policy toward the church, 112, 113, 165, 170, 171; Donatists, 113, 114; Arians, 114-119; baptism, 95, 119; death, 119; see also 10, 120, 128, 129, 136, 222, 237. Constantine, Emperors, II, 119; IV, 161; V, 162, 235; VI, 163. Constantinople, foundation of, 112; captured by Crusaders, 243, 267, 268; by Turks, 285, 312, 315. Constantius Chlorus, 108, 109. Constantius, Emperor, 119-125. Contarini, Gasparo, cardinal, 375, 376, 423-425. Cook, James, discoverer, 522. Coornhert, Dirck, Dutch scholar, 454. Cop, GuiUaume, humanist, 390. Cop, Nicolas, friend of Calvin, 391. Copernicus, Nicolaus, astronomer, 483. Cordier, Mathurin, scholar, 389. Cornelius, bishop of Rome, 102. Cotton, John, Congregationalist, 469. CoxmcU, of Basel, 305, 310-312, 316, 327. Council, of Chalcedon (451) (Fourth General), 135, 149, 151-153. 157, 159, 171. Council, of Constance, 308-311; and Huss, 304, 305; see also 313, 317, 327, 343. Council, of Constantinople (381) (Sec- ond General), 127, 144. Council, of Constantinople (553) (Fifth General), 83, 157, 161. Council, of Constantinople (680-681) (Sixth General), 161, 162. Council, of Elvira, 105. Council, of Ephesus (431) (Third Gen- eral), 148, 149, 171, 188. Council, of Ephesus (449), the "Synod of Robbers," 150, 151. Council, of Ferrara and Florence, 311, 312, 315. Council, Fourth Lateran, 255; confes- sion required, 275, 288; transub- stantiation, 263, 274, 288. Council, of Nicaea (325) (First General). 115-117; see also 76, 135, 164. Council, of Nicaea (787) (Seventh Gen- eral), 163, 172, 207. Council, of Pisa, 303, 307, 308. Council, of Sardica, 121, 135. Council, of Toledo, 134, 180. Coimcil, of Trent, 378, 380, 381, 427. 428. Council, the conciliar theory, 294, 307- 311. Council, Third Lateran, 251. Council, Vatican, 561. Council, Vienne, 284. Counsels, of Perfection, see Superero- gation. Counter-Reformation, the, antece- dents, 321, 322; course, 422-430; see also 355, 434, 444-446, 555. Courtenay, William, bishop of London, 299. Covenanters, the, 470,'471, 477. 478. Coverdale, Miles, bishop and trans- lator, 406, 414. Cowper, William, poet, 520. Cranmer, Thomas, archbishop of Can- terbury, 403, 405. 406, 409-412. Creed, the Apostles', 61, 76. Creed, of Chalcedon, 151-153; see also 153-157, 271. Creed, the Nicene, 116, 128. Creed, Nicene-Constantinopolitan, 128, 151, 208. Cromwell, GUver, protector, 472, 473. Cromwell, Richard, protector, 473. Cromwell, Thomas, Henry VIII 'a agent, 404, 406, 407. Crusades, the, 238-245; First, 239-241; Kingdom of Jerusalem, 241, 242; miUtary orders, 241, 242; Second, 242, 247, 249; Third, 243; Fourth, 243, 288; Ciiildrens', 244; later ef- forts, 244; results, 244, 245. Cues, Nicholas of, scholar, 205, 327. Cumberland Presbyterian Church, the, 580. Cutler, Timothy, Episcopalian, 568. Cybele, worsliip of, 10. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, life and teactiings, 70, 71 ; on baptism, 95, 97; on the Lord's Supper, 99; see also 73, 87, 90-92, 101, 173, 175, 193. Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, 128. Cyril, missionary, 214. Cyril, theologian, bishop of Alexan- dria, 146-150, 153; theology, 154- 157, 171; see also 163, 167, 168. 172, 330. Damasus, Popes. I, 127. 174; II, 222. Dante Alighieri, poet, 277, 293. Darby, John .Nelson, Plymouth Breth- ren, 551. Damley, Henry Stewart, Lord, 420, 421. Darwin, Charles Robert, scientist, 552. Davenport, John, Congregationalist, 469. David, Christian, Moravian, 503. 504. Deaconesses, 91. Deacons, early. 23, 45-47, 90. INDEX CU Dead, prayers for, 93. Decius, Emperor, persecution under, 86, 101, 129. Decretals, the Pseudo-Isidorian, 212. 213. Deism, 487-492; see also 524-526; in America, 572. Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, 79. Democrltus, 5. Denk, Johann, Anabaptist Unitarian, 369, 451, 494. Denmark, Reformation in, 382-384. Descartes, Renfi, philosopher, 483—485. Desiderius, Lombard King, 205. Deusdedit, cardinal, 229. Dictatus, papal claims, 229. Didache, see Teaching. Diego, bishop of Osma, 255. Diocletian, Emperor, career and char- acter, 108, 109; persecution, 87, 102, 109, 113; see also 84, 129. Diodorus, of Tarsus, theologian, 141, 144, 145. Diognetus, the Epistle to, 42, 50. Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria, 105. Dionysius, bishop of Rome, 76. Dionysius, writings, see Pseudo-Dio- nysius. Dioscurus, bishop of Alexandria, 149- 151, 153. Disciples of Christ, the. 581, 582. 586, 689. Discipline, the secret, 92. 167. Dissenters, English, 476, 477, 550. Dober, Leonhard, Moravian mission- ary, 503, 504. DSllinger, J. J. I. von, 561. Dominic, monastic foimder, 255, 256. 424. Dominicans, the, 254-256, 259, 260, 335, 336, 341; in America, 566. Domitian, Emperor, 34. Domitilla, Flavla, 33. Donatello, sculptor, 316. Donation of Constantine, see Constan- tino. Donatists, the, 113-115, 128, 178, 183. Donatus, the Great, 113. Domer, I. A., theologian, 538. 639. Drake, Sir Francis, 439. Driver, S. R., Biblical scholar, 546. Dudley, Guilford, English conspirator, 411. Dwight, Timothy, New England theo- logian, 572. Easter, controversy, 64, 65; Roman date approved, 113, 117; see also 93, 169, 199. Ebionites, the, 39. Eck, Johann Maier, of, Roman cham- pion, 341, 343, 344, 346, 364, 366. . 372, 376. Eckhart, mystic, 256, 280-282. Edict of Milan, the. 111. 112. Edict of Nantes, the, 441, S.^fi. Edict of Restitution, the, 447, 449, 450. Edward, Kings of England. I, 244,' 20()' III, 298; VI, 408-4U. 414. 416, 4.07." Edwards, Jonathan, theologian, 571 572. Edwards. Jonathan, Jr., theologian. 572, 573. Edwin, King. 198, 199. Egmont, count of, 434. Egypt, Coptic Church of, 157, 158. Eichhorn, J. G., Biblical critic, 528. Einarsen, Gisser. bishop, in Iceland, 384. Einhard, scholar, 207. Elagabalus, Emperor, 85. Eliot, John, missionary, 522, 507. Elipandus, bishop of Toledo. 207. Elizabeth, Queen of England, religious settlement, 413-415; deposed by the Pope, 434, 438; treatment of Cath- olics, 437; plots and Armada, 438, 439; religious policy, 457, 458; the Piu-itans, 458-464; see also 403, 417. 420, 422. 471, 494. Elizabeth, St., 260. Embury, Philip, Methodist, 517. Emlyn, Thomas, Unitarian, 494. Emmanuel Pliilibert. duke of Savoy, 400. Emmons, Nathanael, theologian, 573. Emperor-worship, see Worship. Empire, Holy Roman, Inaugurated. 217. Engelbrektsson. Olaf, bishop, 384. Ennius, Roman poet, 6. Ennodius, bishop of Pavia, 135. Epicureanism, see Epicurus. EpicuniS, philosopher, 5-7. Epigonus, Christology, 73. Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, 128. Episcopius, Simon, Arminian. 454. Erasmus, Desiderius, humanist, 329, 330; Greek Testament, 324. 330: the Fathers, 330; theology, 330; quarrel with Luther, 352, 353, 356; see also 349, 360, 391, 401. Emesti, J. A., Biblical scholar, 528. Erskine, Ebenezer, Scottish leader. 553. Estoile, Pierre de 1', jurist, 390. Eucharist, see Lord's Supper. Eudoxia, Empress, 142, 147. Eugene, Popes, III. 247; IV. 310-312. 316, 317. Euhemerus, teaching, 6. Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea, historian. 116, 174. Eusebius, bishop of Doryleeum, 150. Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, Ariaa leader, 115-120, 130. Eusebius, bishop of VercelU, 138. Eustace, Crusader, 240. Eustathlus, bishop of Antloch, 118. 612 INDEX Eutyches, controversialist, 150, 153, 154. Evangelicals, the English, 519-523. 544. 546. Evolution, 552. Exorcists, 90, 91. Fabian, bishop of Rome, martyr, 86. 90, 101. Farel. GulUaume, reformer. 331. 386- 389, 391, 395, 396. Farrar, F. W., broad-church, 546. Fathers, the Apostolic, 42. 53. Paiistus, bishop of Riez, 189. Faustus. Manichsean. 176. Federal Coimcil of Churches, Amer- ican, 588, 589. Felix, bishop of Urgel, 207. Felix. Popes, III, 135; V (Counter- Pope), 312. Fell. Margaret. Quaker. 479. Ferdinand. Emperors. I (brother of Charles V), 355, 358, 381; II, 446- 448. 450; III, 450. Ferdinand, Spanish Kings. I of Castile, 239; the "Catholic" of Aragon, 283, 318. 322-324, 326, 402; see Isa- bella. Feudalism, Influence of, 210. Fichte, J. G., philosopher, 534, 545. Ficino, Marsilio, philosopher, 315. Field. John. Puritan. 460. Filioque, clause, the, 208, 213, 312 Finlan, of Clonard, Irish monlc, 196, Firmilian. bishop of Caesarea, 97. Firmin, Thomas, Unitarian, 494. Fisher, John, bishop of Rochester, 401, 404. Fitz, Richard, Congregationalist, 461. Flacius, Matthias (lUyricus), Lutheran historian, 380. 442. Flavian, patriarch of Constantinople. 149-151. Fletcher, John William, of Madeley, 516. Forge, Estienne de la, Protestant mar- tyr, 392. Forgiveness, see Sins. Formosus, Pope, 215. Formula of Concord, the Lutheran, 443, 444. Fox, George, Quaker, 478-480. Francis, Kings of France. I, 319. 320, 343. 354. 356, 376, 390-392. 407, 416; .II. 409, 413. 418. 419. 431. 432. Francis II. Emperor. 559. Francis, of Assisi. 255, 257-260. 424. Franciscans, the, 258-261; the Ter- tiaries, 260; divisions, 260. 261; in America, 565. Francke, August Hermann. Pietist, 498-502. Franklin, Benjamin, 492. Franks, the, conversion of, 133. 134, 136; and the papacy, 191, 195, 200- 208; see also 130, 131. Frederick, Electors Palatine, III. 443; IV, 445; V (King of Bohemia), 446. 450. Frederick, Emperors, I (Barbarossa), 243, 248, 285, 286; II, 244, 269, 287, 288; III, 325. Frederick, Kings of Denmark, I, 383; IV, 500. Frederick, Kings of Prussia, I, 499; II (the Great), 492, 526. Frederick, of Austria, 280, 293. Frederick, of Lorraine, Pope Stephen, IX, 224. Frederick, the Wise, Elector of Saxony, 333, 338, 342, 343. 347, 348, 350, 355. Frederick WilUam, the "Great Elec- tor," 450. Frederick William I. King of Pnissia, 525. Frelinghuysen, T. J., American re- vivals, 569, 570. Frith, John, Protestant martyr, 406. Fritigem, Visigoth, 130. Froment, Antoine, reformer, 388. Froude, R. H., Anglo-Cathollc, 547, 648. Fructuosus, martyr, 87. Prumentius, missionary, 158. Furbity, Guy. Roman champion, 388. Galseric, Vandal chief, 132. Galerius, Emperor, 108-110. Galileo Galilei, scientist, 483. Galle, Peter, Roman champion, 385. Galllenos, Emperor, 87, 104. Gallus, Emperor, 86. Gallus, missionary, 197. Gamaliel, 26. Garibaldi, Gliiseppe, 562. Gaunilo, reply to Anselm, 263. Gelasius, Pope, 135. Geneva, before Calvin, 387-389; Cal- vin's work in, 395-400. GentUe, Giovanni, radical, 451. George, bishop of Laodicea, 123. George, duke of Saxony, 374, 377. George, of Brandenburg-Ansbach, 355. 359, 371. Georgia, colonial religious conditions. 567. Gerhard, Johann, theologian, 444. Gerhard, of Brogne, monastic reformer, 220. Gerhardt, Paul, hymn- writer, 451. German "Reformed" Churches, 444. German Theology, the, 281. Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, 195. Gersdorff, Katherine von, 502. Gerson, Jean de, theologian, 307, 308. Gibbon. Edward, historian. 493. Gillespie, Thomas, Scottish leader, 553. Giotto, painter, 316. INDEX 613 Gnosticism, causes, 39; teaching. 53- 66; Catholic reply, 60-64; a "Chris- tian Gnosticism," 77, 78; also 235. God. "Friends of," 281. Godfrey, archbishop of Milan, 228. Godfrey, of Bouillon, Crusader, 240, 241. Godfrey, of Lorraine, count of Tuscany, 225, 226. Goethe, J. W. von, poet, 527, 530, 532. Gomarus, Franz, theologian, 454, 456. Gordlan, Emperor, 85. Gospels, written, 34, 35, 60; as "Scrip- ture," 61, 62, 67; Baur on the. 536, 537. Gottschalk, monk, 211. Grace, Tertullian on, 68, 69; Augustine, 182; Aquinas, 272-274; Calvin, 393. Granvella, cardinal, statesman, 433, 434. Gratian, Canonist, 292. Gratian, Emperor, 127, 128. Gravitation, 483, 552. Grebel, Conrad, Anabaptist, 366. Greenwood, John, Congregationalist, 463, 466. Gregorian Church, see Armenia. Gregory, bishop of Alexandria, 120, 121. Gregory, of Nazianzus, preacher, theo- logian. 125-127, 146. 167, 169. 174. Gregory, of Nyssa, theologian, 125- 127, 168. Gregory, Popes, I (the Great), 190-193; papal claims, 191; conversion of Eng- land, 192, 198; theology, 192, 193; the Franks, 191, 200; see also 157, 212, 222, 262; II, 201, 212; III, 162, 201-203; V. 217; VI, 221, 223; VII, see Hildebrand; IX, 244, 254, 258. 259, 288. 292; X, 290; XI, 297-299; XII, 298, 303, 308, 309; XV, 430. Gregory, the "Illuminator," 158. Grey, Lady Jane, 411. Gribaldi, Matteo, radical. 451. Grindal, Edmimd, archbishop of Can- terbury, 460, 462. Groot, Gerhard, mystic, 281. Grotius, Hugo, publicist, theologian, 455-457, 486, 673. Guldo, of Spoleto, 215. Guise, Charles, cardinal of Lorraine. 431. 432. Guise. Francis, duke of. 432, 433 435. Guise, Mary of Lorraine, regent of Scotland, 416-418. Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden. 447-449. Hadrian, Emperor. 25, 49, 50, 73. Hadrian IV, pope, 248. Haetzer. Ludwig, Anabaptist Unita- rian, 369, 451, 494. Hakon I. King of Norway, 236. Hallet, Joseph, Arian, 404. Hamilton, Aloxandor, 5S:i. Hamilton, Patrick, burned, 416. Harding, Stephen, Cistercian, 246. Hargreaves, James, inventor, 507. Harnack, Adolf von, historian, cited, 19, 46, 170, 543. Harold, King of Denmark, 236. Harris, Howell, Revivalist, 513. Harrison, Robert, Congregationalist, 461. Haweis, Thomas, Missions. 523. Hegel, G. W. F., philosopher, 534-536. 539. Hogius, Alexander, humanist, 327. Heinrich, duke of Sa.xony, 379. Heinrich, of Langenstein. concillar theory, 307. Heinrich XXIX. of Reuss, 502. Heloise (Abelard), 264. Helvidius, 175. Helwys, Thomas, Baptist. 465. Hengstenberg, E. W., theologian, 537. Henoticon, the, 135, 154. Henry, duke of Guise, 435, 436. 440. Henry, German Kings and Emperors, I (the Fowler), 210,218; 11,218, 221; III, rescues the papacy, 221-225; see also 218. 223; IV, contest with the papacy, 228-233; Canossa, 230; see also 239; V, 233, 234; VI, 286, 287. Henry, Kings of England, I, 233, 234; II, 286; III, 288; IV, 301; V, 301; VII, 321; VIII, 401-408; desires marriage annulled, 402; marries Anne Boleyn, 403; breach with Rome, 403, 404; supreme head, 401; monas- teries confiscated, 404, 407 ; religious attitude, 406, 407; death, 408; parties under, 408; see also 321, 331, 378. 412-416, 457, 463. Henry, Kings of France, II, 381, 418. 430. 431; III, 436, 437, 440; IV. 435. 436, 440, 441, 445. Henry, of Lausanne, radical, 248. Heraclitus, philosopher, 3, 6, 52. Heraclius, Emperor, 159, 160. Herbert, Edward, of Cherbury. Deist. 487. Herder. J. G. von, inquirer. 532, 545. Hermann, Wilhelm, 543. Hermas, of Rome, The Shepherd, 39, 42- 46, 62, 72, 100, 102, 103. 193. Herod Agrippa, 24. Herod, the Great, 14, 24. High Commission, Court. 463, 470, 478, 477. Hilary, bishop of Poitiers, 122, 123. Hildebrand, Pope, early career, 223. 224 ; sub-deacon, 223 ; the real leader. 225-227; Pope, 228-232; Canossa. 230; aims, 229, 285: crusade pro- posed, 239; see also 212, 220. 233. 614 INDEX Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims, 210- 213. Hippolytus, Counter-Pope and theo- logian, 74, 75, 79, 85. Hobbes, Thomas, philosopher, 486. Hochstraten, Jakob, inquisitor, 335. 336. Hodgkin, John, bishop, 414. Hoen, Cornelius, Lord's Supper, 364. Hoffmann, Melchior, Anabaptist, 374, 375. Holtzmann, H. J., New Testament scholar, 540. Holy Spirit, see Spirit. Homolon party, the, 122. Homoiousion party, the, 123-125, 127, 130. Homoousion party, the, 76, 116-128. Honorius, Emperor, 131, 132, 187. Honorius, Popes, I, 160, 161; II (Counter-Pope), 227; III, 255. Hooker, Richard, Ecclesiastical Polity, 462, 463. Hooker, Thomas, Congregationalist, 469. Hooper, John, bishop, 406, 412. Hopital, Michel de 1', statesman, 432. Hopkey, Sophy, 512. Hopkins, Samuel, theologian, 572. Horn, count, Netherlander, 434. Hosius, bishop of Cordova, 115, 116, 121, 122. Hospitallers, the, 242. Howard, John, philanthropist, 520, 521. Hrabanus Maurus, archbishop of Mainz, scholar, 210, 211, 261. Hubmaier, Balthasar, Anabaptist, 366, 367, 369. Hugh, abbot of Cluny, 221, 224. Hugh, of Vermandois, Crusader, 240. Hugh, the White, cardinal, 223, 229. Hugo, de Payens, Templar, 241. Hugo, of St. Victor, theologian and mystic, 266, 267, 273, 279. Huguenots, the, 431-441, 556, 558; in America, 566, 569. Humbert, cardinal, 223-225, 227. Hume, David, philosopher, 490, 491, 530, 553. Humphrey, Laurence, Puritan, 458. Humphreys, Joseph, Methodist, 515. Huntingdon, SeUna, countess of, 516. Huss, John, Bohemian reformer, life and teaching, 302-304, 306; death, 305, 309; see also 343. Hut, Hans, Anabaptist, 369. 374. Hutten, Ulrich von, agitator, 336, 344. Ibas, of Edessa, theologian, 149, 156. Iceland, Reformation in, 384. Ignatius, Apostolic Father and mar- tyr, 40-42, 47, 48, 59, 63, 66, 96, 98. Ignatius, of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, 424-426, 429. Ignatius, patriarch of Constantinople, 213. Image controversy, the, 162, 163. Index, Congregation of the, 428. Indulgences, growth of theory and practice, 276; for purgatory, 317; Huss, 304; Luther, 340-343. Infant baptism, 95, 96. Infant commimion, 99, 274. IngersoU, Robert G., 492. Innocent, Popes, I, 134, 135; see also 142, 187, 190; II, 247, 265; III, 286- 289; also 243, 252-254, 258, 268, 283: IV, 254, 261, 288; VI, 296; VII, 298; VIII, 318, 333; XI, 555; XII, 555. Inquisition, the, established, 254; Spanish, 324; world-wide, 424. Interims, the, 380, 410. Investiture, causes, 216, 224-226; the struggle, 228-234. Irenseus, theologian, life and teaching, 65-67; reply to Gnosticism, 60, 61, 63; see also 67, 71, 95, 98-100, 170. 330. Irene, Empress, 163. Irving, Edward, Catholic Apostolic Church, 5.50. Isaac II, Emperor, 243. Isabella, Queen of Castile, 322-324, 326, 347, 402, 422. Isidore, bishop of Seville, 193, 194. Isis, worship of, 10, 96. Ivo, bishop of Chartres, 233. Jablonsld, Daniel Ernst, Hussite bishop, 502, 504. Jacob, Henry, Congregationalist, 466. Jacobite Church, the, 158. James, Apostle, 24. James, the Lord's brother, 24-28. James, epistle of, 34. James, Kings of England and Scotland, I (VI of Scotland), policy, 464. 466, 467; bishops in Scotland. 467, 470; see also 416, 421 ; II (VII of Scotland). 475-478. James V, King of Scotland, 416. Janitors, 90, 91. Jansen, Cornelius, theologian, 556. Jansenism, 556, 557. Jansenist Church, 557, 561. Jefferson, Thomas, 492. Jerome, of Prague. 305. Jerome, scholar, Ufe and work, 173-175; the Vulgate, 174; see also 46. 138, 170, 187, 188. 190, 330. Jesuits, origin, 425-427; abolished, 557, 558; restored, 559; see also 220, 429, 430. 444, 445, 453, 556, 560; in America, 565. Joachim, of Floris, 261. Joan of Arc, 312. Johan III, King of Sweden, 386. John, Apostle, 23, 24, 28, 33. INDEX 615 John, bishop of Antioch, 148. John, bishop of Jerusalem, 187. John Cassianus, monk and writer, 188. John Duns Scotus, see Scotus. John Fidanza, see Bonaventura. John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, 371. 379, 407. John George III. Elector of Saxony, 499. John, Gospel of. 35, 38-40. 60, 62. 537, 539, 540. John Hyrcanus, King of the Jews, 13. John, King of England, 287, 288, 295 John, of Austria, governor, 436. John, of Damascus, theologian, 163, 164. John, of Gaimt, 298, 299. John, of Janden, pubUcist, 293. John, of Monte Corvino, missionary, 284. John, of Paris, political theorist, 293. John, Popes, IV. 160; VIII, 214; XII, 215, 217; XIII, 217; XIX. 218; XXII, 261, 278, 280, 292. 294; XXIII. 304. 308, 309. John, Scotus "Erigena," 210. John, the Baptist, 16, 18, 20, 93, 94. John, the Faster, patriarch of Con- stantinople, 191. John, the "Steadfast," Elector of Saxony, 355, 357-359, 371. John Tzimiskes, Emperor, 235, 236. John III, King of Portugal, 429. John VIII, Emperor, 311. Johnson, Francis, Congregationallst, 463, 466. Johnson, Samuel, Episcopalian, 568. Jonas, Justus, reformer, 349, 371. Joseph, King of Portugal, 557. Joseph II, Emperor, 492. Joseph II, patriarch of Constanti- nople, 311. Jovian, Emperor, 125. Jovinianus, 175. Juan de la Cruz, mystic, 429. Juana, Queen of Spain, 326. Jud, Leo, reformer, 362. Julian, bishop of Eclanum, 187. Julian, of Halicarnassus, 156. Julian, the "Apostate," Emperor, 123, 124. Julius, Popes, I, 120, 121; II, 318. 319. 402; III, 381. Junius, Franz, theologian, 454. Justin, Emperors, I, 154; II, 157. 190. Justin Martyr, Apologist and theo- logian, 50-52; see also 43, 66, 68. 71. 77, 78, 92, 94, 95, 98. Justina, Empress, 140. Justinian, Emperors, I, theological politician, 154-157; see also 83, 133. 134, 162, 164, 166, 190; II, 161 Kallistos, bishop of Rome, Christology, 74, 75; forgiveness, 101; the church'. 103. Kanis, Peter, Jesuit, 427. Kant, Immanuel, philosopher, 530-535. 542, 545. Karl Ludwig, Elector Palatine, 450. Karlstadt, Andreas Bodenstein of, 340, .343, 349, 350, 353, 383. Kattenbusch, Ferdinand. 543. Keble, John. Anglo-CathoUc, 547, 548. Kempis, John a, 282. Kempis, Thomas a, the Imitation, 282. Kentigem, missionary, 196. Kepler, Johann, astronomer, 483. Kerbogha, Sultan of Mosul, 241. KUian, missionary, 197. Kjngsley, Charles. English broad- church, 546. Kirkham, Robert, at Oxford, 510. Knights of St. John, see Hospitallers. Knox, John, life and work, 416-422; see also 410, 415. Kramer, Heinrich, inquisitor. 333. Kublai Khan, 284. Lainez, Diego, Jesuit. 425, 427. Laity, the, 89. Lambert, Emperor, 215. Lambert, Francis, reformer, 357. Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, 262, 263, 273. Langton, Stephen, archbishop of Can- terbury, 287. Lardner, Nathaniel, Arian, 495. Latimer, Hugh, bishop, 406, 412. Laud, William, archbishop of Canter- bury, 468-471. Laurentius, martjr, 87, Law, the canon, 292. Law, WiUiam, Nonjuror, 488, 489, 508, 510. League, of Schmalkalden, 373, 376, 378. 379. League, the Catholic, in France, 436. 440. Lectionaries, 167. Le F6vre, Jacques, humanist, 315, 331. 386, 390. Lefevre, Pierre, Jesuit, 425. Legate, Bartholomew, burned, 494. Leibnitz, Gottfried Wllhelm, philos- opher, 485, 524, 525, 533. Leicester, the earl of, 437. Lent. 93, 169, 213, 361. Leo, Brother, Franciscan, 261. Leo. Emperors, III, 162, 202; V. 206. Leo, metropolitan of Bulgaria. 224. Leo, Popes, I. 132, 134. 135. 150-154, 159, 161. 16.5, 168, 190; III, 206; IV. 212; VIII. 217; IX. 222-224. 226; X, 261, 318, 319, 340, 342, 343. 346, 351, 384, 402, 422; XIII. 414, 562. 563. 616 INDEX Leontius, of Byzantium, theologian, 155, 156, 163. Lessing, Gotthold Epbraim, critic, 627, 529. Letters of Obscure Men, the, 336. Liberius, Pope. 122. Liberties, the Gallican. 556, 559. Licinius, Emperor, 109-111, 115. Lindsey, Theopliilus, Unitarian, 495. Locice. John, philosopher, 485-487, 490, 530. Logos, the, in Heraclitus, 3; Aristotle, 4; Stoicism, 6, 7; paralleled in He- brew "Wisdom." 16; Philo, 17; Paul, 36; the Johannine Uterature, 38; Justin Martyr, 52; Irenseus, 66; Tertullian, 69; discussed, 71, 72; Paul of Samosata, 73; triimiphs in West, 75, 76, 83; Clement of Alex- andria, 78; Origen, 81, 82; Neo- Platonic, 106; Arius, 115, 144; Apol- linaris, 144; Diodorus, 145; Cyril, 146; Leontius, 155. Loisy, Alfred, modernist, 564. Lombards, the, 133, 134, 159, 190-192, 203-205, 215. Loofs, Friedrich, cited, 69, 82, 541, 543. Lord's Supper, the, general view, 97-99; primitive, 23; Pauline, 40, 97; Johannine, 40, 98; Ignatius, 41, 98; Justin Martyr, 43, 92, 98; Irenaeus, 66; the real presence, 98; a sacriflce, 99; infant commimion, 99, 274; com- memorative, 99; developments, 167, 168; Augustine, 183; Gregory, 193; Radbertus and Ratramnus, 211; Catharite, 250; Berengar, 262, 263; transubstantiatjon, 263, 274, 288; Aquinas, 273, 274; disuse of cup by laity, 274; Wyclif, 300; cup to laity, 305; Luther, 345, 352, 364, 370, 411; Zwingli, 364. 370; Calvin, 394; Eng- lish Prayer Bool£S, 409, 410; Me- lancbthon, 442, 443; Socinians, 453. Lothair, Emperor, 209. Lothair II, King, 213. Lotze, R. H., philosopher, 542. Louis, Kings of France, VII, 242; IX, 244, 288; XI, 320, 326; XII, 318, 320; XIII, 441, 448; XIV, 441. 556; XV. 658; XVI. 558. Louis, of Bavaria, imperial claimant. 278, 280, 293-295. Louis, the "Child," 216. Louis, the "German," Emperor, 210. Louis, the "Pious," Emperor, 209, 219. Loyola, Ignatius, see Ignatius. Lucian, of Antioch theologian, 106. 114, 115, 144. Lucius III, Pope, 251. Luder, Peter, hiunanlst, 327. Luke, Gospel of, 35, 67, 60, 62, 636, 540. Lull, bishop of Mainz, 202. Lull, Raimon, missionary, 284. Luther, Martin, early life, 336, 337; a monk, 337; professor, 338; reUgious experience, 338. 339, 346; theses, 340, 341; the Leipzig debate, 343, 344; the great treatises, 344-346; at Worms, 347, 348; the Wartburg, 348, 349; return to Wittenberg, 350; con- servatism, 350-352; public worship, 352; breach with Erasmus, 352, 353; the Peasants' War. 353, 354; mar- riage, 355, 356; churches organized, 351, 352, 357, 358; the Short Cate- chism, 358; "Protestants," 359; dis- pute with Zwingli, 363, 364, 370; the Marburg colloquy, 370; the Augs- burg Confession, 371-373; Philip's bigamy, 377, 378; death, 379; see also 186, 246, 279-281, 306, 333, 334, 360, 361, 382, 391, 392, 394, 405, 415, 422, 442, 453, 481, 496, 513, 543. Lutherans, the, churches organized, 357, 358; Augsburg Confession, 371-373; full rights, 382; controversies, 441- 445; in America, 568, 569, 576-578, 580. Macaulay, Zacbary, Evangelical, 620. Maccabees, Jewish rulers, 13, 14, 20. Macedonians, the, on Holy Spirit, 126. Magnentius, imperial pretender, 121. Magni, Peter, bishop, Swedish suc- cession, 385. Major, Georg, theologian, 442. Majorinus, bishop of Carthage, 113. Malsemie, Francis, Presbyterian, 669. Mani, religious founder, 107. Manichaeism. 107, 176-178, 235, 249, Manning, H. E., cardinal, 549. Manwaring, Roger, Royalist, 469. Manz, FeUx. Anabaptist, 366, 367, 369. Marburg colloquy, see Colloquy. Marcellus, bishop of Ancyra, 118, 120, 121, 126. Marcian, Emperor, 151. Marcion, Gnostic reformer, 56, 57. Marcionites, 235. Marcourt, Antoine, radical Protestant. 391, 392. Marcus Aurelius, Emperor, 6, 49. 83. 85, 129. Marguerite d'AngoulSme, 391. Maris, the Persian, 156. Mark, archbishop of Ephesus, 312. Mark. Gospel of, 34. 37, 60, 62, 536, 540. Marprelate Tracts, the, 462. Marquette, Jacques, Jesuit explorer. 565. Marsilius, of Padua, the Defensor Pads, 293-295, 306. 307. Martin, bishop of Tours. 138. Martin, Popes, I. 160, 161; V, 310, 317. Martyrs, honored, 93, 170. INDEX 617 Mary, of Burgundy, 326. Mary "Queen of Scots," 409. 413, 417; reign, 417-422; death, 439; see also 431, 438, 464. Mary, the Virgin; the "Second Eve," 66; "Mother of God." 146-148, 152; reverence for, 170, 171, 175; im- maculate conception, 278, 660. Mary I, Queen of England, 411-413, 417, 457, 458. Maryland, colonial religious conditions, 566. Mather, Richard, C!ongregationalist, 469. Mathys. Jan, Anabaptist, 374. MatOda, countess of Tuscany, 226,230. Matthew, Gospel of, 35, 38, 60, 62, 536, 540. Matthias. Emperor, 446. Mattliias, of Janov, preacher, 302. Maurice, J. P. D., 545, 546. Maurice, Stadholder, 455, 456. Maxentius, rival of Constantine, 109, 110. Maxfleld, Thomas, Methodist, 515. Maximilian, duke of Bavaria, 445-450. Maximilian I, Emperor, 325, 326, 328, 335, 343, 346. Maximilla, Montanist, 58, 69. Maximus Daia, Emperor, 109-111. Mayhew, Jonathan, Liberal, 573. Medici, Cosimo de', 315. Melanchthon, Philip, 342, 353, 357, 376; Loci Communes, 349; Augsburg Confession, 371-373; Apology, 373; Philip's bigamy, 377; the Leipzig Interim, 380, 442; on Servetus. 399; on faith, 399; differences from Luther, 442; contests, 442, 443; death, 443; see also 329, 454. Melito. of Sardis, 50. Melville, Andrew, Scottish reformer, 432, 467. Memnon, bishop of Ephesus, 148. Mendoza, archbishop of Toledo, 323. Menno Simons, Anabaptist, 375. Mennonites, the, 375, 465, 568. 569. Merswin, Rulman, mystic, 281. Messianic Hope, the, 14, 15, 19-23, 39. Methodism, development, 510-517; ef- fects of, 618-523, 544; in America, 617, 518, 572; organization there, 576, 580, 584; divisions, 584, 586; see also 508, 524, 670, 678, 586, 689. Methodius, bishop of Olympus, 83. Methodius, missionary, 214. Michael Cerularius, patriarch of Con- stantinople, 224. Michael, Emperors, III, 213, 214; VII, 239. Michaelmas, 171. Michelangelo, artist, 316. Milicz, of Kremsier, preacher, 302. Mill, Jotm, Biblical scholar, 528. MUler, William, Adventlat^82^ Mills, Samuel J ,' Jrrmlssion6.'523 Milman, H. H., dean, 545. Milner. Isaac, Evangelical. 520. Mllner, Joseph, Evangelical, 519 Miltitz, Karl von, 343. Milton. John, 494. Miracles, main Christian evidence* 452. 493, 494; criticism of. 488, 491 626, 627, 540. Missions, Arian, 129-134; British Is- lands, 195-200; to Germany, 201. 202. 216; under Charlemagne, 205! 206; Scandinavia, 213, 214, 236, 237; Slavs and Russia, 214, 237; Hun- gary, 237; mediaeval to China, 284; to Mohammedans, 284 ; Francis, 258 284; Lull, 284; Roman Catholic, 429, 430; America, 565; Quaker, 479; Halle-Danish, 500, 622; Moravian, 604, 505, 522; modem Protestant awakening. 622, 623; American, 579. 686. 587. Mithraism, 10, 106, 107, 169. Modernists, the, 564. Mohammed, 159. 160. Molther, P. H.. Moravian, 514. Mcmarchians, the. Dynamic, 72, 73; Modalistic, 72-75, 180. Monasticism, sources and development, 104, 136-140; Benedict of Nursia, 138, 139; Benedict of Aniane, 218, 219; Cluny, 219, 220; CamaldoU, 221; Cistercians, 245, 246; Do- minicans, 254-256; Franciscans, 258-261. Monnica. 175, 176, 178. Monophysites, the, 136, 153-160, 312. Monothelite controversy, the, 160, 161. Montanism, 57-60, 62-64, 67, 71, 72. 88. Morality, higher and lower, 103, 104. Moravians, the, 601-507, 511-514, 532. 569, 679; also 306. More, Hannah, Evangelical, 520. More, Sir Thomas, 401. 404. Moritz, duke and Elector of Saxony. 379-381. 427. 442. Mormons, the, 582, 583. Mosheim, J. L. von, historian, 526. Muhlenberg, H. M., American Luth- eran, 575. 576. Mtiller, George, of Bristol, 551. MUnzer, Thomas, radical, 353. Mmray, John, Unlversallst, 676. Murton. John, Baptist, 465. Mystery religions, the, 9-11, 40, 44, 54. 92 94. Mystics, the. 279-283. 429. Napoleon, Emperors. I. 568, 559; III, 562. Narses, general, 133. Neander, J, A. W., historian. 538. 618 INDEX Neo-Platonism, System and influence. 106. 107; Augustine. 177-180. 185; see also 5. 76, 80, 82, 163, 266, 279. 280, 282, 327, 545. Nero, Emperor, 33. Nestorians, the, 149. 158, 160, 284, 312. Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople, life and teaching, 145-149, 171, 187. Netherlands, the. Protestantism in, 433-438. New England, colonial religious con- ditions in, 567, 568. New Jersey, colonial religious condi- tions in, 569. New York, colonial religious conditions in, 568, 569. Newman, John Henry, cardinal, 547- 549. Newton, John, Evangelical, 519. Newton, Sir Isaac, gravitation, 483, 552. Nicaea, Council of, see Council. Nice, Agreement of, 122. Nicholas, of Hereford, translator, 300. Nicholas, Popes, I. 212-215, 235; II. 226, 227; V, 312, 316. Nicolaitanism, 220, 232, 237. 245, 246. Niebuhr, B. G., historian, 539. Nitschmann, David, Moravian, 504. 511. Noailles, L. A. de, cardinal, 557. Nobili, Roberto de, missionary, 430. Noetus, Christology, 73. Nogaret. William, 291. Nominalism, 262-264, 269, 279. Nonjurors, the, 476. 488. Northumberland, the duke of, 410, 411. Norway, the Reformation in, 384. Novatian, theologian and Coimter- Pope, on the Trinity, 75, 76, 114; schism, 102, 113, 117. Occam, William of, schoolman, 261, 278, 279, 295, 337. 338, 364. Ochino. Bernardino, radical. 424. Octavian. see Pope John XII. Odilo, abbot of Cluny, 219, 228. Odo, abbot of Cluny. 219. Odovaker, King of Italy, 132, 133. CEcolampadius, Johann, reformer, 363. 364, 370. Oglethorpe, James Edward, colonizer, 511. Olaf, Kings of Norway, I, 236; II, "Saint," 236, 237. Olaf Skottkonung, King of Sweden, 237. Old Catholics, the. 561. Oldcastle, Sir John. Wycliflte. 301. Oldenbarneveldt. Johan van, Armin- ian, 454, 455. Olevianus, Kaspar, theologian, 443, 472. Olga, Queen of Russia, 237, Omar, Caliph, 160. Ordination, 89, 90. Origen, life and theology, 78-83; chief works, 80; threefold sense of Scrip- ture, 80, 81; fundamentals, 81; a Platonist, 81 ; God and Christ, 81, 82; salvation, 82; final restoration, 83; signiflcance, 83 ; in Arian controversy, 114-117, 122, 123, 125, 127; con- demned, 83, 142, 156, 157; see also 85, 92. 95, 103, 105. 106, 171, 174. 175, 180, 330. Osiander, Andreas, reformer, 442. Ostrogoths, the, 130, 133-135. Oswald, King, 199. Oswy, King, 199. Othman, Caliph, 160. Otto, Emperors, I, 215-217; II, 217; III, 217, 218; IV, 287, 290. Oxenstjema, statesman, 449. Pachomius, monastic founder, 137, 138. Pack, Otto von, 358. Paine, Thomas, radical, 492. Paley, William, Apologist, 493, 494. Pantaenus, of Alexandria, 77. Papacy, early steps toward, 63-65, 70, 71, 76; Constantinople, 112, 113; Sardica, 121; Theodosius and Gra- tian, 127; growth in fifth century, 134-136; claims of Gelasius, 135; theological triumphs, 161; influence of Augustine's theories, 184; Gregory the Great, 190, 191; the Franks, 191, 195, 202-208; the Decretals, 212, 213; Nicholas I, 212, 213; rescued by Otto I and Henry III. 217, 221, 222; Cluny reform, 222-225: break with empire, 225-228; electoral reform, 226, 227; Hildebrands struggle, 228- 232; compromise, 233, 234; leader- ship in Crusades, 233, 239-241; at height, 285-288; Innocent III, 286- 288; dependence on France, 288, 289; Philip IV, 290-292; unam sanctam, 291; Avignon, 291, 292; critics, 293- 295; defenders, 295; EngUsh op- position, 295; taxation, 296; retiuTi to Rome, 296, 297; schism, 297. 298; councils, 306-313; Italian princes, 317-320; since the Reformation, 555- 564; infalUbiUty, 561; temporal sovereignty, 562. Parish, origin of the, 166, 208. Parker, Matthew, archbishop of Can- terbury, 414, 458. Parma. Margaret of, Regent, 433. Parsons, Robert, Jesuit, 438, 440. Pascal, Blaise, critic of Jesuits. 556. Paschal II, Pope, 233. Patrick, missionary, 195, 196. Patripassians, the, 73. Paxil, Apostle, life and work, 26-30; freedom, 28-30; theology. 30-32, 66; INDEX 619 Chrlstology. 36. 37; writings as "Scripture." 62; death. 30. 63: see also 6, 14. 40. 44-47, 55-57, 94. 186. 339. Paul, of Samosata. Christology. 72, 73, 83. 105. 106. 116, 144, 145. 235. Paul, Popes. II. 317; III. 375. 378. 380, 381, 423-427; IV, see Carafla. Paul, the Deacon. 207. Paulicians, the, 235, 236, 249. Paulinus, bishop of York, 199. Paulinus. of Milan, 186. Paulus. H. E. B.. rationalist. 537. 540. Peace, of Augsburg. 382. 430, 443, 445. 446. Peace, of Cambrai. 358. Peace, of Prague. 449. Peace, of Westphalia, 450. 451. Peirce. James. Arian. 494. Pelagius. theologian, and Pelagianism, life and teaching, 185-188; the "Semi-Pelagians." 188-190; see also 148. 175. 189, 455. Pelagius II, Pope, 190. Penn, William, Quaker, 480. Pennsylvania, colonial religious condi- tions. 569. Pentecost. 169. Persecutions, Nero, 33. 63; Domitian. 34; for the "name," 48; Trajan and PUny. 49; Hadrian to Commodus, 49. 85; charges. 49. 50, 84; Septimius Severus, 67, 79. 85; to Decius. 84. 85; systematic imder Decius and Vale- rian, 85-87, 101; the lapsed, 86, 101, 102, 109; Diocletian, 109-111. Peter, Apostle, Christ's resurrection, 21; Pentecost. 22; leadership. 23- 28; Christology. 35; death, 33, 63. Peter, bishop of Alexandria, 127. Peter, Damiani, cardinal. 221, 224, 226, 276. Peter Lombard, theologian, 266, 267, 273, 303, 338. Peter, of Bruys, radical, 248. Peter, of Castelnau, legate, 253. Peter, the "Fuller," bishop of Antioch, 153. Peter, the Hermit, Crusader, 239, 240. Petersson, Lars, reformer. 385. Petersson, Olaf, reformer, 385. Petrarch, humanist, 314. Pfeflferkom. Johann. agitator, 335. Pfleiderer, Otto. 543. Pharisees, the, 13. 14, 16. 19. 20. 26. Philip, the Arabian, Emperor. 85. 86. Philip, Kings of France. II (August), 243, 287; IV, 242. 290-292; V, 293. Philip, landgrave of Hesse. 355-359; Marburg colloquy, 370; bigamy, 376- 378; defeat and imprisonment, 379. PhiUp, of Austria. 326. PhiUp, of Swabia, 287. Philip II. of Spain. 411-413. 4.10-441; see also 381. 420. Philo. of Alexandria, 17, 18, 26, 76 77 80. Photius. patriarch of Constantinople. 213. 224. 235. 237. Pico, della Mirandola, philosopher, 315, 328. Pictures, reverence for, 162, 163. 172. Pietism. 496-501 ; see also 502. 504. 524- 529, 570. 575. 578. 584. Pilate. Pontius. 15. 19. Pilatus, Leontius. teacher of Greek, 314. Pippin, mayor of palace, 200, 201. Pippin, the Short, King of the Franks, 200-205. 208, 215. Pius, Popes, II. 305. 316. 317; V. 428, 434; VI, 558; VII. 558-560; IX. 278. 549. 560-562; X, 292, 563, 564. 586. Plato. 3-5; influence. 17. 51, 77. 80. 81. 145. 269, 315, 532. Plethon, Gemistos, Platonist, 315. Pliny, governor, 42, 49. Plotinus, Neo-Platonist, 106. Plutarch, religious reformer. 9. Pltltschau. Heinrich. missionary, 500. Plymouth Brethren, the, 551. Pole, Reginald, archbishop of Canter- bury, 375, 411, 423. Polo, MaflFeo, Marco, and Nicolo. travellers, 284. Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, 40, 42, 49, 59, 62, 64, 65. Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, 65. Pombal, marquis of. 492. 557. Pontianus, bishop of Rome. 85. Pontitianus. 177. Porphyry, Neo-Platonist, 106, 262. Pothlnus, bishop of Lyons, 65. Poverty. "Apostolic," 246, 247. 251. 255. 258-261. 295, 299, 303. Prxmunire, statute of. 295. 403. Pragmatic sanction, the. 313. 319. 321. Praxeas, Christology. 73. Prayer Books, EngUsh, 409, 410, 414. 417. Preaching. 167. 168. Presbyterians. English. 470-474. 477. 494. 495. 519. 550; American. 566. 569-571. 573. 579. 580; di\-isions. 584-586; also 589. Presbyters, eariy. 23. 45-48; duties, 90; compensation. 166. Prierio. against Luther, 342. Priestley, Joseph, Unitarian. 495. Printing, invention of. 315. Prisca, Montanist, 58. Proclus. Neo-Platonist, 279. Proles. Andreas, monastic reformer. 337. Propaganda, Congregation of the. 430. 586. Protestant, the name, 359. 620 INDEX Protestant Episcopal, see Church of England in America. Provisors, statute of, 295. Provoost, Samuel, bishop, 574. Pseudo-Dionysius (writings attributed to Dionyslus the Areopagite), 171, 210, 266, 269, 270, 279. Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals, see De- cretals. Ptolemy Philadelphus, 17. Pufendorf, Samuel, jurist, 486. Pulcheria, Empress, 147, 150. 151. Purgatory. 193, 277. Puritans, the, aims, 415, 458; two stages. 458, 460: the struggle. 460- 473. Pusey. Edward Bouverie, Anglo- Cathollc. 548, 649. Pyrrho, Sceptic, 6. Pythagoreans, the, 3. 51. Quadratus. Apologist, 50. Quakers, the, 477-480; see also 368, 519, 520; in American colonies, 566, 668- 570. Quesnel, Pasquler, Jansenlst, 556, 567. Quinones, Fernandez de, liturgist, 409. Radbertus, Paschasius. Lord's Supper, 211. 262. 273. Radewyn, Plorentius, mystic. 281. Raikes, Robert, Simday-schools, 521, 522. Raimond, of Toulouse, Crusader, 240. Raphael, painter, 316. Ratramnus, Lord's Supper, 211, 262. Raymond, du Puy, Hospitaller, 242. Readers, 90, 91. Realism, 262, 264, 269. Recared. Visigothic King. 134. 191. Reformed, in America (Dutch). 568, 569, 575, 579, 589; (German). 569. 575, 589. Reimarus, Hermann Samuel, radical critic, 626-529, 640. Reinhard, Martin, reformer, 383. Relics, reverence for, 93, 172. Religions, Mystery, see Mystery. Relly, James, UnlversaUst, 576. Remonstrants, the, 456, 456. Renaissance, the, 313-317, 326-332; ideal of reform, 331. Renan, Ernst, 541. Ren6e, duchess of Ferrara, 395, 402, 423. Reuchlin, Johann, himianlst, 315, 328, 329, 335, 336, 342. Reimion conferences, the. 376, 424. Revolution, the French, 558. Reynolds, Edward, bishop, 474. Rhode Island, colonial religious condi- tions, 568. Ricci, Matteo, missionary, 430. Riccio, David, 420, 421. Richard, Kings of England. I. 243: II. 301. 302. Richard, of Mlddletown. schoolman, 277. Richelieu, statesman, 441, 448. Ridley, Nicholas, 406, 412. Rienzl, Cola dl, 296. Ritschl, Albrecht, theologian, 541-544. Robert, of Normandy, Crusader, 240. Robert de Sorbon, foimder, 268. Robertson, F. W., broad-church, 546. Robinson, John, Congregationalist, 466, 466. Rodriguez, Simon, Jesuit, 425. Rogers, John, burned, 412. Roman Catholics, in America, 565- 568, 573. 674, 679, 586, 686. Romuald, monastic reformer, 220, 221. Romulus Augustulus. 132. Roscelin. schoolman. 263. 264, 279. Rose, Hugh James, Anglo-Cathollc, 547. Rothad, bishop of Soissons, 213, Rothe. Johann Andreas, Pietist, 502, 503. Rothmann, Bernt. Anabaptist, 375. Rotislav, duke of Moravia, 214. Roubli, Wilhelm. Anabaptist, 366, 367. Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 629. Roussel, Gerard, Calvin's friend, 390, 391. Rubeanus, Crotus, humanist, 336. Rudolf. Emperors, I, 290; II, 446. Rudolf, of Swabia, 231. Ruflniis, scholar, 173. Ruquesens, Luis de, governor, 436. Rusticus, Roman magistrate, 60. Ruysbroeck. John of, mystic, 281. Sabellius, and Sabelllanism, 73-75, 83, 105, 114, 265; Nicene result seems, 117, 122. 124. Saccas, Ammonius, Neo-Platonlst, 80, 106. Sacraments, the, Augustine, 183: Aqui- nas, 273; Scotus, 278; Luther, 345. Sadducees, the, 13. Sadoleto, Jacopo, cardinal, 375, 396, 423. Sahits, aid of, 170, 193, 277. Saisset, Bernard, legate, 290. Saladin, 242. Sale, Margarete von der. 377. Sales. Francois de. Roman missionary^ 429. Salmeron, Alfonso, Jesiilt, 425, 427. Salvation, primitive, 23, 24; Pauline, 31, 66; Johannine, 40; Ignatius, 41, 66; Greek and Latin, 41, 167, 168, 173; Justin Martyr, 61, 62; Gnostic, 54-66; Marcion, 56; Irenseus, 66; Tertullian, 68, 69; Origen, 82; Neo- Platonlc, 107; Athanasius, 118; Nes- torius, 145, 146; Cyril, 146, 153; INDEX 621 Augiistine, 182; Cathari, 250; AquI- nas, 272, 277. 291; Scotus, 277, 278; Boniface VIII. 291; Luther, 338- 340, 368; Anabaptist, 368; Calvin, 393; Socinians, 453; Pietist, 497; Methodist, 513; Ritschlian, 543; An- glo-Catholic, 548; American, 578, 584, 585. Salvation Army, the, 551. Sampson, Thomas, Puritan, 458. Sancroft, William, archbishop of Can- terbury, 476. Saravia. Adrian, Anglican, 462. Satomilus, Gnostic, 56. Sattler, Michael, Anabaptist, 368. 369. Savonarola, Girolamo, reformer, 256. 319, 320. Schell. Hermann, modernist, 564. Schelling, F. W. J. von, philosopher. 534, 545. Schiller, J. C. F. von, poet. 527, 530. Schlelermacher, F. D. E., life and influ- ence, 532-535, 537, 638, 542. 545. Schmalkaldic League, see League. Scholasticism, 245, 261-267, 269-279. Schwartz, Christian Friedrich, mission- ary. 500. Sclffl. Clara. Franciscan. 259. Scory. John, bishop, 414. Scotland, Reformation in, 415-422; Episcopacy and Presbyterianism xm- der the Stewarts, 467, 470, 477, 478; the covenants, 470, 471; Presby- terianism established, 478; tolera- tion, 478, 552; patronage, 552, 554; divisions, 553, 554; Moderatism, 553. 554; Chalmers, 554; reunions, 554, 555. Scott, Sir Walter, 544. Scott, Thomas, Evangelical, 519, 523. Scotus, John Duns, schoolman. 277, 278. 453. Scripture. New Testament as. 34. 35. 61. 62; threefold sense, 80, 81; sole authority, 279, 344, 361, 362, 392; printed, 324. 332. Seabury, Samuel, bishop, 574. Seeberg, Beinhold. 126. 127, 543. Selnecker. Nikolaus. theologian. 443. 444. Semler. Johann Salomo. Biblical schol- ar, 529, 532, 536. Seneca, Stoic, 6, 8, 390, 391. Septuagint, the, 17. Serapis, worship of, 10. Sergius, patriarch of Constantinople, 160, 161. Sergius, Pope, 201. Servetus, Miguel, Anti-Trinitarian. 399. 451, 452. Severus, bishop of Antioch, 156. Seymour, Jane, Queen, 405, 408. Shaftesbury, the earl of, moralist, 486. 487. Sharp, James, archbishop of St. An- drews, 477. Siegfried, archbishop of Mainz. 228. Sigismund, Emperor, 304, 305, 308, 309. Silvester, Popes, II, 218; III, 221. Simeon, Charles, Evangelical, 620. Simeon, head of Jerusalem church, 25. Simeon Stylites, hermit, 137. Simon Magus, 56. Simony, 220, 224, 238, 245. Simplicius, Pope, 165. Sin, and forgiveness, In general, 100- 102, 173; unto death, 100; absolvers. 101; Kallistos's decree, 101; No- vatian, 102; all sins forgivable, 102 TertulUan, 68; Cyprian, 95; Am brose, 141; Augustine, 181; Pelagian 185, 186; Aquinas, 272; Peter Lorn bard, 275; Scotus, 278; Catharite, 249. 250; Luther. 339. 345; Calvin 393; Jesuit. 426; Westminster Con fession. 472; Edwards, 572. Sixtus, Popes, II, 87; IV, 317, 322, 324 V, 440. Smith, Joseph, Mormon, 582, 583. Smyth, John, Baptist, 465. Societies, Bible, 521, 5G0. Societies, the English, 508. 513. 515. Societies, tract. 521. Society for Promoting Christian Knowl- edge. 508, 521. Society for the Propagation, 508. 522, 566, 568. Socinianism. 330, 451-453, 494. Socrates, 3, 52. Somerset, the protector, 408-410. Sophronius, bishop of Jerusalem, 160. Sorbonne, the, 268. Soto, Domingo de, theologian, 324. Sozzini (Sozini), the, Fausto, 452; Lello, 462. Spangenberg, A. G., Moravian, 504- 506, 511. Sparks, Jared, Unitarian, 677. Spener, Philipp Jakob, Pietist, 496- 499; see also 600-503. 508. Spinoza, Baruch, philosopher. 484, 485, 532, 533. Spirit, the Holy, Paul's doctrine, 57 distinguished, 58; TertulUan, 69 Sabellius, 74; Origen. 82. 124 Athanaslu-s, 124; Macedonians, 125 the Nicene creed, 128; Augustine, 178-182; Calvin. 393; Protestant- ism. 481. Spirituals, the. 361. Sprenger, Jakob, inquisitor, 333. Stanley, A. P., broad-church. 546. Staupitz. Johann. Luther's monastic superior. 337. 338. Stephanas, 44, 48. Stephen, martyr, 24. Stephen, Popes, I, 97; II, 204; V, 218; VI. 215; IX, 225. 622 INDEX Stephen I, "Saint," King of Hungary, 237. Stewart, James, earl of Moray, 420- 422. Stilicho, general, 131. Stoicism, teaching, 6, 7; at Tarsus, 6, 26; Tertullian, 67-69; Clement and Origen, 77-80; Pelagius, 185; see also 16, 51, 52. Storch, Nikolaus, radical, 350. Strauss, D. F., critic, 539-541. Strawbridge, Robert, Methodist. 517. Stiibner, Markus Thoma, radical, 350. Sturm, abbot of Fulda, 201. Sub-Deacons, 90. Succession, apostolical, 48, 60, 61, 68. Sunday-schools, 521, 522, 579. Supererogation, works of, 43, 103, 104, 272. Suso, Henry, mystic, 281. Sweden, Reformation in, 384-386. Symeon, "'Metaphrastes," 235. Symeon, the "New Theologian," 235. Synods, of Aries, 113, 115, 121, 195; Antioch, 120, 130, 164; Dort, 455, 456; Milan, 121; "the Oak,' 142; Orange, 189; Sirmium, 122; Tou- louse, 253, 254. Taborites, the, 305, 306. Tancred, Crusader, 240. Tatian, Apologist, 50. Tauler, John, mystic, 256, 280, 281, 339. Tausen, Hans, reformer, 383. Taylor, Nathaniel W., theologian, 584. Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, the, 42, 45, 95-97, 100, 103. Templars, the, 241, 242, 292. Tennent, Gilbert, Revivalist, 571. Tennent, William, teacher, 571. Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, broad-church, 546. Tertiaries, the, 260. Tertullian, theologian, life and teach- ing, 67-72; a Montanist, 59, 67; Apostles' Creed, 61; baptism, 94-97, 166; Christology, 69. 71. 73-75. 114, 143, 180; "priest," 99; see also 89, 103, 175, 180, 188, 481. Tetzel, Johann, indulgences, 340, 341, 343. Teutonic Knights, the, 242, 355, 357. Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, 199. Theodore, of Mopsuestia, theologian, 145, 147. 156, 157. Theodoret, of Cyrus, theologian, 148, 156. Theodoric, Ostrogothic King, 133. Theodosius, Emperors, I, 126-128, 131. 140, 141; II, 147, 148, 150, 151. Theodotus, Christology, "the cur- rier," 72; "the money-changer," 72. Theognis, bishop of Nicaea, 117. Theopaschite controversy, the, 166. Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, 142. Tholuck, F. A. G., theologian, 538. Thomas Aquinas, see Aquinas. Thomas, of Stitney, preacher, 302. Thomasius, Christian, rationalist. 499, 524. Three Chapters, the, 156. Throckmorton, Job, Puritan, 462. Tiberius II, Emperor, 157. Tillet, Louis du, Calvin's friend, 391. Tilly, general, 446-449. Timothy, 29. Timothy, bishop of Alexandria, 153. Tindal, Matthew, Deist, 487, 488. Tiridates, King of Armenia, 158. Tithes, 208, 335, 354. Titus, 28. Titus, Emperor, 25. Toland, John, Deist, 487. Toplady, Augustus, and Wesley, 516. Torquemada, Tomas, inquisitor, 324. Trajan, Emperor, 42, 49. Travers, Walter, Puritan, 460, 462. Treaty, of Cateau-Cambresis, 431; of Passau, 381; of Verdun, 209, 210. Tregelles, S. P., Plymouth Brethren, 551. Trie, Guillaume, and Calvin, 399. Trinity, the, formtilse, 58; Tertullian, 69, 70; Novatian, 74, 75; Augustine, 179, 180; Abelard, 265. Troeltsch, Ernst, 544. Truce of God, the, 220. Truchsess, Gebhard, archbishop of Cologne, 445. Turks, conquests, 236, 238, 284, 285. 356, 357. Tyndale, William, translator, 405, 406. Tyrrell, George, modernist, 564. Ugolino, cardinal, see Pope Gregory IX. Ulflla. missionary. 129, 130. Ulrich, duke of Wiirttemberg. 365, 374. Ultramontanism, 559-562, 564. Unitarians, in England, 477, 494, 495, 524, 550; in America, 573, 577, 578. 580, 586. Universalists, in America, 573, 576, 577, 586. Universities, mediaeval, 267-269; fif- teenth century, 326-328. Unni, missionary, 236. Urban, Popes, II, 232, 233, 239-241. 276; IV. 288; V, 296, 297; VI. 297; VIII. 556. Ursacius, bishop of Singidunum, 121. Ursinus, Zacharias, theologian, 443. Utraquists, the, 305, 306. 310. Valdes, Juan, reformer, 423. Valdez, see Waldenses. INDEX 623 Valens, bishop of Mursa, 121, 122. Valens. Emperor, 12.5, 127. 131. Valentinian, Emperors, I, 125; II, 128. 140; III, 132, 148. 165. Valentinus, Gno.stic, 55, 56. Valerian, Emperor. 86, 87. Valerius, bishop of Hippo, 178. Valla, Lorenzo, critic, 205, 315. Vandals, the, 130-134, 178, 188. Vasa, Gustaf, King of Sweden. 385, 386. Vasey, Thomas, Methodist, 517, 575. Vatable, Francois, teacher, 390. Venn, John, missions, 523. Vergilius, bishop of Aries, 198. Vermigli, Pietro Martire, reformer, 423. Victor. Popes. I, 65. 72; II, 224, 225; III. 232; IV (Counter-Pope), 285. Victor Emmanuel II, King of Italy, 562. Victorinus, Neo-Platonist, 177. Vigilantius, 175. Vigilius. Pope. 157. Vincent, of Lerins, 188. Vinci, Leonardi da, 316. Viret, Pierre, reformer, 395. Virgil, missionary, 197. Virginia, colonial reUgious conditions, 566. Visigoths, the, 127, 129-134, 159. 160. Vitalian, Pope. 199. Vittoria. Francisco de, theologian. 324. Vladimir, grand-duke of Russia, 237. Voltaire, 492. 557. Vulgate, the, 174. Waldenses, the, 251-254, 306, 387. Wallace, Alfred Russel, scientist, 552. Wallenstein, Albrecht von, 446-449. War, Thirty Years', the, 446-451, 503. 555. Ware, Henry, Unitarian, 577. Watt. James, inventor, 507. Watts, Isaac, hymn-writer, 508. Webb, Thomas, Methodist, 517. Wedgwood, Josiah, inventor, 507. Wenzel, King of Bohemia, 303, 304. Wesley, Charles, 509-517. Wesley, John, 509-518: see also 456, 508, 519, 520. 528, 567, 575. Wesley, Samuel. 508-511. Wesley, Susanna. 509. Westminster Assembly, see Assembly and Confession. Wettstein, J. J., Biblical scholar, 528. Whatcoat, Richard, Methodist, 517, 575. White, William, bishop, 574, 575. Whitefleld, George, Evangelist, 510- 514; in America, 567, 571; see also 509, 519, 576, 578. Whitgift, John, archbishop of Canter- bury. 459, 460, 462, 464, 465. Wibert. Oountpr-Popp, 2.T 1-2.33. Wied, Hermann vnn, 400 Wightraan, Edward, burned. 494. Wilberforcc, William. EvanRollral. 520. Wilcox, Thoma-s, Purifan. 460. Wilfrid, bishop of York, 199. Wilhclm, duko of Clever, 378. William I, the Conqueror. 228. William 111. and Mary, of England and Scotland, 476-478. 552. William, of Champeaux, schoolman. 264, 267. William, of Occam, see Occam. William, of Orange, "the Silent." 431- 437. William, the Pious, founder of Cluny. 219. Williams, Roger, 568. Willibrord. missionary, 201. Wimpina, Konrad. 341. Winchester. ELhanan, Univcrsalist. 57R, 577. Winfrid, see Boniface. Winthrop, John, Congregationalist. 469. Wisdom, Jewish conception of, 16, 17; PauUne. 36. Wishart. George, burned, 416. Witchcraft, 333, 445. Wolff, Christian, philosopher, 524-526, 530-532. Wolfgang, of Anhalt, 359. 371. Wolflin, Heinrich, humanist, 360. Wolsey, Thomas, cardinal, 402, 403. Worms, Concordat of, see Concordat. Worship, of Emperors, 8, 9, 49. Wrede, William, scholar, 544. Wtenbogaert, Johan, Arminian, 4,54. Wyclif, John, EngUsh reformer, life and work. 298-304; sec also 306. 332. 405. Wyttenbach, Thomas, himianist. 360. Xavier, Francis, missionary, 425, 429, 430. Ximenes, Spanish reformer, 323, 324, 331, 422. Yotmg. Brigham, Mormon, 582, 583. Young Men's Christian Association, the. 588. Young Women's Christian Association. the, 588. Zacharias, Pope, 203, 215. Zbynek, archbishop of Prague. 303, 304. Zeisberger, David, missionary, 505. Zell, Matthew, reformer, 363. Zeno, Emperor. 135. 1.54, 165. Zeno. Stoic, 6. Zcphyrinus, Pope. 74. Ziegenbalg, Bartholomaus. mission- ary, 500. 624 INDEX Zinzendorf, Moravian founder, 502- 507, 613; In America, 576. Zizka, John, Hussite, 305. Zosimus, Pope, 187. ZwlUing, Gabriel, radical, 349. Zwingli, Huldreich. life and work, 360- 366; education. 360; at Ztlrich, 361: religious development, 361, 362; marriage, 363; disputes witli Luther, 363, 364, 370; political plans, 365; opposes Anabaptists, 366, 367; the Marburg colloquy, 370; confession, 372; death, 365, 373; see also 394, 415. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. REC'D LD-URL MAR 2 5 1983 '1 1 hTviT' AUG S 1 , ,,j 1 1 / Forn 315 'If ml III 111 I nil (III nil 11 m 11 jiii m m j, , \ ^ryj 3 1158 00430 6865 /^ UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 975 997 8