The Project Gutenberg eBook of History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvib, Vol. 7 (of 8), by J. H. Merle D'Aubigné, D.D.

What a difference there is between the perusal of a work of this kind and that of one of the religious novels with which our public is now satiated. In these latter, notwithstanding all the good-will of the authors, there is always, or nearly always, something unwholesome. Imagination, that admirable gift of God, is employed to transport us into the chiaro-oscuro of fictitious scenes, which communicate a kind of fascination from which it is difficult to emerge, to return to the humdrum of every-day life, and to confine ourselves to the narrow limits of our every-day duties. Here on the contrary we find the full light of historic truth, imagination restored to its true object—that of giving life to real facts. The faith of this martyr, it really struggled, really triumphed—this blood, it really flowed—this pile, its flames lighted up the surrounding country, but in doing so they really consumed their victim. When we read these true histories our hearts do not swell with vain ambition or aspire to an inaccessible ideal. We do not say: “If I were this one, or that one.” We are obliged to commune with ourselves, to examine our consciences, to humble ourselves with the question: What would become of me if I were called to profess my faith through similar sufferings? Each one of us is thus called to less self-complacency, to greater humility, but at the same time to greater contentment with his lot, to greater anxiety to serve his God with greater faithfulness and greater activity.

We warmly recommend this work to those who are glad to find wholesome nutriment for the strengthening of their faith, to those who by contact with a vivifying stream wish to give renewed vigor to their spiritual life. They will find in its narrations all the energy and brightness which a living faith communicated to the author, whose mind retained all its youthful freshness, and at the same time that wisdom which Christian experience had brought to full maturity.

A whole year has elapsed since the publication of the sixth volume of the History of the Reformation. But this delay is owing to the fact that the editor has been unable to devote to this undertaking more than the scanty leisure hours of an active ministry; and not, as some have supposed, to the necessity of compiling the History from notes more or less imperfect left by the author. The following narrative, like that which has preceded it, is wholly written by M. Merle d’Aubigné himself.

The editor repeats the statement made on the publication of the last volume—that his task has consisted solely in verifying the numerous quotations occurring in the text or as foot-notes, and in curtailing, in two or three places, some general reflections which interfered with the rapid flow of the narrative, and which the author would certainly have either suppressed or condensed if it had been permitted him to put the finishing touches to his work.

We can only express our gratitude to the public for the reception given to the posthumous volume which we have already presented to them. Criticism, of course, has everywhere accompanied praise. The estimates formed by the author of this or that character have not been accepted by all readers; and the journals have been the organs of the public sentiment.

viOne important English review ^[1] has censured the author for placing himself too much at the evangelical point of view. It is unquestionable that this is indeed the point of view at which M. Merle d’Aubigné stood. This was not optional with him; he could not do otherwise. By conviction, by feeling, by nature, by his whole being, he was evangelical. But was this the point of view best adapted to afford him a real comprehension of the epoch, the history of which he intended to relate? This is the true question, and the answer seems obvious. If we consider the fact that the theologians of the revival at Geneva have been especially accused of having been too much in bondage to the theology of the sixteenth century, we shall acknowledge that this evangelical point of view was the most favorable to an accurate understanding of the movement of the Reformation, and to a just expression of its ideas and tendencies. No one could better render to us the aspect of the sixteenth century than one of those men who, if we may so speak, have restored it in the nineteenth.

viiThe criticism most commonly applied to M. Merle d’Aubigné is that he has displayed a bias in favor of the men of the Reformation, and especially in favor of Calvin. That the author of the History of the Reformation feels for Calvin a certain tenderness, and that he is inclined to excuse, to a certain extent, his errors and even his faults, may be admitted. But it is no less indisputable that this tendency has never led him to palliate or to conceal those errors or faults. He pronounces a judgment: and this is sometimes a justification or an excuse. But he has in the first place narrated; and this narration has been perfectly accurate. The kindly feeling, or, as some say, the partiality of the writer, may have deprived his estimate of the severity which others would have thought needful; but it has not falsified his view. His glance has remained keen and clear, and historical truth comes forth from the author’s narratives with complete impartiality. These narratives themselves furnish the reader with the means of arriving at a different conclusion from that which the author has himself drawn.

May we not add that M. Merle d’Aubigné’s love for his hero, admitting the indisputable sincerity of the historian, far from being a ground of suspicion, imparts a special value to his judgments? For nearly sixty years M. Merle lived in close intimacy with Calvin. He carefully investigated his least writings, seized upon and assimilated all his thoughts, and entered, as it were, into personal intercourse with the great reformer. Calvin committed some faults. Who disputes this? But he did not commit these faults with deliberate intention. He must have yielded to motives which he thought good, and, were it only in the blindness of passion, must have justified his actions to viiihis own conscience. In the main, it is this self-justification on Calvin’s part which M. Merle d’Aubigné has succeeded better than any one else in making known to us. He has depicted for us a living Calvin; he has revealed to us his inmost thought; and when, in the work which I am editing, I meet with an approving judgment in which I can not join without some reservation, I imagine nevertheless that if Calvin, rising from the tomb, could himself give me his reasons, he would give me no others than those which I find set forth in these pages. If this view is correct, and it seems to me difficult to doubt it, has not the author solved one of the hardest problems of history—to present the true physiognomy of characters, and to show them as they were; under the outward aspect of facts to discover and depict the minds of men?

Moreover, the greater number of these general criticisms are matters of taste, of tendency, of views and of temperament. There are others which would be important if they were well-founded. Such are those which bear upon the accuracy of the work, almost upon the veracity of the author. Fortunately it is easy to overthrow them by a rapid examination.

‘M. Merle,’ it has been said,^[2] ‘makes use of his vast knowledge of the works of the reformers to borrow from them passages which he arbitrarily introduces out of their place and apart from the circumstances to which they relate. Thus sentences taken from works of Calvin written during the last periods of his life are transformed into sentences pronounced by him twenty or twenty-five years earlier. That which on one occasion was written with his pen is, in regard to another occasion, put into his lips. We may, without ixpedantry, refuse to consider this process in strict conformity with that branch of truth which is called accuracy.’

It is true that, in Vol. VI., M. Merle d’Aubigné applies to the year 1538 words uttered by Calvin about twenty-five years later, at the time of his death in 1564:—‘I have lived here engaged in strange contests. I have been saluted in mockery of an evening before my own door with fifty or sixty shots of arquebuses. You may imagine how that must astound a poor scholar, timid as I am, and as I confess I always was.’ But these words, spoken by Calvin many years after the event, referred precisely to that year, 1538. The historian has quoted them at the very date to which they belong; nor could he have omitted them without a failure in accuracy.

The following is, however, the only proof given of this alleged want of accuracy:—

‘At the time when Calvin had just succeeded in establishing in Geneva what he considered to be the essential conditions of a Christian church, he had published, in the name of his colleagues, some statement of the success which they had just achieved, and had given expression to the sentiments of satisfaction and hope which they felt. Of this statement, to which events almost immediately gave a cruel contradiction, M. Merle has made use to depict the personal feelings and disposition of Calvin after the check which his work had sustained. The conditions are altogether changed. Instead of triumphing, the reformer is banished; and, nevertheless, the language which he used in the days of triumph is employed to characterize his steadfastness and constancy in the days of exile.’

The document here spoken of is a preface by Calvin to the Latin edition of his Catechism. In the original xedition it bears date March, 1538. It is now before us; we have read and re-read it, and we can not imagine by what strange illusion there could be seen in it a statement of the success which Calvin and his colleagues had just achieved. It does not contain one vestige of satisfaction or of hope, not a trace of triumph. It is an unaccountable mistake to suppose that it was written in days of triumph. It was written in March 1538, in the very stress of the storm which, a few days later, April 23, was to result in the banishment of the reformer and the momentary destruction of his work at Geneva. This storm had begun to take shape on November 25, 1537, at a general council (assembly of the people), in which the most violent attacks had been directed against Calvin and against the government of the republic. From this time, says M. Merle, ‘the days of the party in power were numbered.’^[3] In fact, the government favorable to Calvin was overthrown February 3, 1538. On that day the most implacable enemies of the reformer came into power. Thus, in March, Calvin, far from thinking of a triumph, was thinking of defending himself. The preface which stands at the head of his catechism is not the statement of success already seriously impaired, but an apologia for his proceedings and his faith, a reply to ‘the calumnies aimed against his innocence and his integrity,’^[4] to ‘the false accusations of which he is a victim.’^[5] The following is the analysis of the preface, given by Professor Reuss, of Strasburg, in the Prolegomena to Vol. V. of the Opera Calvini, p. 43:—

‘The occasion for publishing, in Latin, this book was furnished by Peter Caroli, doctor and prior of the xiSorbonne. This doctor, after having spread abroad iniquitous rumors against Farel, Viret, and Calvin, broke out passionately in open accusations against these men, his colleagues, who were equally distinguished by their faith and their moral character, imputing to them the Arian and Sabellian heresies and other similar corruptions. At this time there existed no other public monument of the faith of the Genevese church but the Confession of Farel and the Catechism of Calvin; and these, as they were written in French, were almost unknown to the rest of the Swiss churches. For this reason Calvin translated into Latin his own Catechism and the Confession of Farel, in order to make known through this version to all his brethren in Switzerland the doctrine which he had hitherto professed at Geneva, and to show that the charge of heresy brought against it was without foundation.’^[6]

It must be added that Calvin, in this preface, does not confine himself to the refutation of the charges of heresy drawn up against him by Caroli; but he vindicates his own course at Geneva, particularly in that vexatious affair of the oath which gave rise to the debate of November 25, 1537, the overthrow of the government on February 3, 1538, and the expulsion xiiof Calvin and his friends on April 23 following. This document is, with the letters written by Calvin at this period, the most precious source of information as to the reformer’s feelings during this cruel struggle; and in quoting it at this place the author has made a judicious use of it.

Let us quote further some words from an article in the Athenæum, of which we have already spoken. In the course of criticisms, sometimes severe, the writer acknowledges that ‘there are to be found in this volume, in unimpaired vigor, the qualities we admired in its predecessors. Few narratives are more moving than the simple tale of the death of Hamilton, the first of the Scotch martyrs; and the same may be said of the chapter devoted to Wishart.’ In regard to Calvin the same writer tells us—‘M. Merle possessed, as we have already remarked, a knowledge truly marvellous of the writings of Calvin; and there are few books which enable us to understand so well as M. Merle’s the mind of the reformer—not perhaps as he was on every occasion, but such as he would have wished to be.’

Professor F. Godet, of Neuchâtel, expresses the same opinions and insists on them.^[7] After having spoken of ‘that stroke of a masterly pencil which was one of the most remarkable gifts of M. Merle d’Aubigné,’ he adds—‘It is always that simple and dignified style, calm and yet full of earnestness, majestic as the course of a great river, we might say—like the whole aspect of the author himself. But what appears to us above all to distinguish the manner of M. Merle is his tender and reverential love for his subject. The work which he describes possesses his full sympathy. He loves it as the work of his Saviour and his God. Jesus would xiiino longer be what he is for the faith of the writer if he had not delivered, aided, corrected, chastened, governed and conquered as he does in this history. St. John, in the Apocalypse, shows us the Lamb opening the seals of the book containing the designs of God with respect to his church. M. Merle, in writing history, appears to see in the events which he relates so many seals which are broken under the hand of the King of Kings. In each fact he discerns one of the steps of his coming as spouse of the church or as judge of the world. And just as the leaves of the divine roll were written not only without but within, M. Merle is not satisfied with portraying the outside of events, but endeavors to penetrate to the divine idea which constitutes their essence, and to unveil it before the eyes of his reader. Do not therefore require him to be what is called an objective historian, and to hold himself coldly aloof from the facts which he recalls to mind. Is not this faith of the sixteenth century, of which he traces the awakening, the struggles, defeats and victories, his own faith and the life of his own soul? Are not these men whom he describes, Calvin, Farel, Viret, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh? Are not these churches, whose birth and first steps in life he relates, his own spiritual family? The reader himself, to whom his narrative is addressed, is for him an immortal soul, which he would fain make captive to the faith of the Reformation. He does not for an instant lay aside, as narrator, his dignity as a minister of Christ. The office of historian is in his case a priesthood. Not that he falls into the error of determining at all cost to glorify his heroes, to palliate their weaknesses, to excuse their errors, or to present facts in a light different from that objective truth to which he has been led by the conscientious study of the documents. xivThe welfare of the church of to-day for which he desires to labor, may as surely result from the frank avowal and the severe judgment of faults committed, as from admiration of every thing which has been done according to the will of God.’

The same judgment was lately pronounced by the author of a great work on French literature, recently published,^[8] Lieutenant-Colonel Staaf. It is in the following terms that the author introduces M. Merle d’Aubigné to the French public:—‘M. de Remusat has said of this work—“It may have had a success among Protestants (un succès de secte), but it deserves a much wider one, for it is one of the most remarkable books in our language.” We might add one of the most austere, for it is at once the work of a historian and of a minister of the Gospel. It would be a mistake to suppose that the author has sacrificed the narrative portion of his history to the exposition and defence of the doctrines of the Reformation. Without seeking after effects of coloring, without concerning himself with form apart from thought, he has succeeded in reproducing the true physiognomy of the age whose great and fruitful movements he has narrated. All the Christian communities over which the resistless breath of the Reformation passed live again in spirit and in act in this grand drama, the principal episodes of which are furnished by Germany, France, Switzerland, and England. In order to penetrate so deeply as he has done into the moral life of the reformers, M. Merle was not satisfied with merely searching the histories of the sixteenth century; he has drawn from sources the existence of which was scarcely suspected xvbefore they had been opened to him.’... ‘Now, at whatever point of view we may take our stand, it is no subject for regret that for writing the story of the conflicts and too often of the execution of so many men actuated by the most generous and unalterable convictions, the pen has been held by a believer rather than by a sceptic. It was only a descendant and a spiritual heir of the apostles of the Reformation who could catch and communicate the fire of their pure enthusiasm, in a book in which their passions have left no echoes. M. Merle d’Aubigné—and this is one of the peculiar characteristics of his work—has satisfied with an antique simplicity the requirements of his twofold mission. It is only when the conscience of the historian has given all the guarantees of fairness and impartiality that one had a right to expect from it that the pastor has indulged in the outpourings of his faith.’

We close with the words of Professor F. Bonifas, of Montauban:^[9] ‘In this volume are to be found the eminent qualities which have earned for M. Merle d’Aubigné the first place among the French historians of the Reformation: wealth and authenticity of information, a picturesque vivacity of narration, breadth and loftiness of view, a judicious estimate of men and things, and in addition to all these a deeply religious and Christian inspiration animating every page of the book. The writer’s faculties remained young in spite of years; and this fruit of his ripe old age recalls the finest productions of his youth and manhood.’

The Ministers of Geneva—Departure of Morand and Marcourt from the Town—Great Famine—Advice of Calvin—His Recall determined on—The Message taken by Louis Dufour—Calvin’s First Answer—Journey to Worms—Letter from the Syndics and Council of Geneva—Calvin’s Anxieties—Consultation of his Friends—His Answer—Its Conditions—Viret called to Geneva—Viret at Geneva—The Minister Bernard—His Letter to Calvin—Calvin at Worms—Calvin and Melanchthon—Their Intimacy—Their Reciprocal Confidence—Colloquy of Worms—Song of Victory—Triumph of Christ—Calvin’s Confidence in Viret—Calvin’s Letter to Bernard—Calvin restored to Geneva by Farel—Trials—Humility and Faith 1

Calvin’s Uneasiness—Concessions of the Lutherans—Calvin’s Steadfastness—Discourse of Cardinal Farnese—Calvin’s xviiiAnswer—Papal Tyranny—The True Concord—Unity and Diversity—The Roman See not the Apostolic See—Incontinence—Profanation of Religion—A great Monster—True Ministers—Church Property—The Pope’s Crosier—Protestants and Turks—Calvin’s part at Ratisbon—Theology of Rome—Evils to be remedied—Calvin’s Moderation—Reference to the General Council—Calvin’s Departure from Ratisbon 24

Repeal of the Sentence of Banishment by the General Council—Letter from the Syndics and Council of Geneva to the Pastors and Councils of Zurich and Basel—Severity of their Language—Its Expression of the common Feeling—All Difficulties removed by Letters from Geneva—Calvin’s Motto—His departure from Strasburg—His Stay at Neuchâtel—At Berne—Arrival at Geneva—Ostentation avoided—Calvin’s House—What he had acquired at Strasburg—His Appearance before the Council—Going forward—Commission of the Ordinances—Beginning of Calvin’s work—Assistance of Farel and Viret requested—The Grace of God and the Work of Man—A Day of Humiliation—The Truth with Charity 42

Project of the Ordinances—Its Presentation to the Councils—Passed in the General Council—Spirit and Purpose of the Ordinances—Calvin’s Model the Primitive Church—Geneva an Evangelical Stronghold—The Christian Life—Remonstrances—The Ministry—Instruction of the Young—The Poor and the Sick—Prisoners—Election of Pastors—The Ministers’ Oath—The Doctors—The Elders—The Consistory—Worship—Common Prayer—Discipline—Manner of judging of this Discipline—Government of the Church of Geneva—Theocracy and Democracy—State Omnipotence—Government of the Church assumed by the State—Calvin not responsible—The Danger unseen by him 60

Preaching Calvin’s Principal Office—Two to Three Thousand Sermons—His Exposition of Holy Scripture—Quotations—How a young Man shall cleanse his Way—The Love of Money—A Stranger on the Earth—Transitory Devotion—Self-love—The lost Lamb—God’s Will that all should be Saved—His Grace unbounded—How to come to God—The Blood of Christ—Predestination—Ignorance of it is Learning—No political Part played by Calvin—His clear Conception of the Evangelical Ministry 81

State of Feeling at Geneva—Calvin the Soul of the Consistory—His Attention to small Matters—Catholicism at Geneva—Believing what the Church believes—The Virgin and the Church—Politics no Concern of the Consistory—The Regulation of Morals its Business—Impartiality—Moderation—Calvin a Peacemaker—Meekness and Strength—Latent Hostility of the former Ministers—New Ministers—Ami Porral—His Triumphant Faith—His Christian Death—Living Christianity—The Work prospering—Development of Religious Life—Disciplinary Action—Reconciliation—Accomplishment of the Reformation—Luther’s Part—Calvin’s Part—Luther the Founder of the Reformation—Calvin its Lawgiver—Calvin a Mediator—Epochs of Light—Means of National Elevation 96

John Tausen—His Youth—His Entrance into the Monastery—His Departure for Germany—His Studies at Louvain and Cologne—At Wittenberg—Christian II.—His Marriage—Indulgences—Revolt of Sweden—Royal Vengeance—Martin Reinhard—His foreign Tongue—Encountered by Ridicule—His Departure from Denmark—Liberal Laws Promulgated by Christian—Religious Reforms—Carlstadt in Denmark—His Dismissal—Fresh revolt in Sweden—Flight of the King—Assistance of his Allies asked for in vain—The Sister of Charles the Fifth—Her Death in Heresy 120

Frederick, Duke of Holstein—His Call to the Throne—His Leaning to Evangelical doctrine—His Impartiality towards Rome and the Reformation—Promulgation of religious Liberty—The New Testament in Danish—The Translator’s Preface—Uneasiness of the Clergy—The King’s Son in Germany—His Adhesion to the Reformation—Growing Decision of the King—A Sermon of Tausen—Tausen at Viborg—Continuance in his Work—The Reformation at Copenhagen—Determination of the Bishops to Persecute—Imprisonment of Tausen—His preaching through the Air Hole—His Liberation by the King—Reformation at Malmoe—The Eloquent Tondebinder—The Gospel embraced by the whole Town of Malmoe—Translation of Luther’s Hymns into Danish—Increasing xxiProgress in all Parts of the Country—The Bishops’ Invitation to Eck and Cochlæus—Their Refusal to go to Denmark—The King’s Discourse to the Bishops—Complete religious Liberty—Vain Efforts of the Bishops—Royal Ordinance—Apparent Submission of the Clergy 140

Struggles and Controversies—Tausen’s Writings—A New Bishop—Various Reforms—Tausen’s Zeal—Diet of Copenhagen—The Bishops and the Ministers—Increased Number of Sermons by the Ministers—Silence of the Bishops—Tausen and his Colleagues—Their Confession of Faith—The Articles—Surprise of the Prelates—Accusations of the Bishops—Reply of the Evangelicals—Their Demand of a public Discussion—Refusal of the Bishops—Presentation of a Memorial to the King by the Ministers—No Answer to it—Triumph of the Evangelical Cause—Disorders—Frederick’s political Position strengthened—Intrigues of the ex-King—Invasion of Norway by Christian II.—A short Struggle—Christian taken Prisoner—His Demand for a Safe-conduct—His Letter to Frederick—Treated as a Prisoner of State—Sentenced to Imprisonment for Life—Confined in a walled-up Keep—Forsaken—Luther’s Intercession for him—Death of Frederick—His Four Sons 166

Reviving Hope of the Bishops—Their Efforts—Their Intrigues—Restriction of religious Freedom—Their Purpose to elect the King’s fourth Son—Adjournment of the Election—Tausen sentenced to Death—Rising of the Townsmen—Rescue of Tausen—The Bishops threatened—Banishment of Tausen—Brigitta Gjoë—Persecution of Evangelicals—Polemics—Popular Writings—Attack of Lübeck on Denmark—Rapid Progress of the Invaders—A Diet in Jutland—Long Debates—Election of Christian III. in spite of the Bishops 194

CHRISTIAN III. PROCLAIMED KING—TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND.

Vigorous Prosecution of the War by the new King—The Enemy driven from the Provinces—Siege of Copenhagen—Extreme Sufferings of the besieged Town—Entry of Christian into his Capital—His Determination to crush the temporal Power of the Bishops—Arrest of the Bishops—General Council of the Nation—Bill of Indictment against the Bishops—Their Deprivation—Their Liberation—The King’s Invitation to Pomeranus—Reorganization of the Church by Pomeranus—New Constitution of the Church—The Reformation in Norway—In the main a Work of the Government—The Reformation in Iceland—The two Bishops of Iceland—Oddur’s Translation of the New Testament—An Evangelical Bishop—His Death—Popish Reaction—Triumph of the Gospel 211

Various Influences—The Brothers Olaf and Lawrence—Their early Studies—Their Application to Theology—Olaf at Wittenberg—His Intimacy with Luther—His Return to Sweden—The two Brothers and Bishop Mathias—Present at the Massacre of Stockholm—Mathias one of the Victims—Lawrence Anderson Successor of Mathias—He is favorable to the Reformation—Olaf and Lawrence at their Father’s Funeral—Their Refusal of the Services of the Monks—Violent Opposition—Their Death demanded by Bishop Brask 231

Gustavus Vasa Prisoner in Denmark—His Escape from Confinement—His Struggle for the Independence of Sweden—His Flight from Place to Place—News of the Massacre of Stockholm—Concealment xxiiiin the Mountains—Farm Labor—Recognition of Him—Betrayal—Pursued like a wild Beast—His Attempt to rouse the People—Unsuccessful Efforts—A Rising at last—Speedy Triumph—Gustavus nominated King—His Leaning to Reform—His Welcome to the Reformers—Anderson Chancellor of the Kingdom—Olaf Preacher at Stockholm—Partisans and Adversaries—Conspiracies of the Bishops—Bishop Brask—Citation of Olaf and Lawrence before the Chapter—Their Attitude—Anathema 244

The ‘Illuminated’ at Stockholm—Their Expulsion—Olaf’s Marriage—His Excommunication by Bishop Brask—His Defence undertaken by the King—Revenues of the Clergy diminished by the King—Ostentation of Archbishop Magnus—Feast of St. Erick—The Clergy humbled by the King—Fears of the Bishops—Public Disputation proposed by Magnus—Accepted by the King—Olaf and Galle—Regrets of the Catholics—Tempers heated on both sides—A Pretender—The Bishops’ Support of Him—Declaration of the King—His Resolution to complete his Task—Convocation of the States of the Kingdom—A royal Banquet—Humiliation of the Bishops 265

An Episcopal Conspiracy—The Diet of 1527—Complaints of the King—Exactions of the Clergy—Audacity of Bishop Brask—The King’s Abdication—Triumph of the Bishops—Excitement of the People—A Disputation before the Diet ordered—The King entreated to resume the Sceptre—His long Resistance—His final Consent—Political Reforms—Religious Reforms—Compact of Westeraas—Disarming of the Romish Hierarchy—Suppression of the armed Revolt—Coronation of Gustavus I. 283

Assembly of Orebro—Authority of the Scriptures—Education of Pastors—Ecclesiastical Rites—Concessions—Obstacles—Discontent—Progress—Lawrence Petersen—His Nomination as Archbishop of Upsala—Marriage of the King—Marriage of the Archbishop—Hostility of the Monks—Olaf’s Desire for a complete Reformation—The King’s Desire to put it off—Coolness between the King and the Reformer—Complaints of Olaf—Irritation of the King—The Mock Suns of 1539—A Storm raging against Olaf—Brought to Trial with Anderson—Both condemned to Death—A Ransom accepted by the King—Resignation and Reinstatement of Olaf—The King Head of the Church—Luther’s Counsels—Church Order half Episcopalian and half Presbyterian—Severity of Gustavus—Excuses—Refusal of Gustavus to join the League of Smalcalde 298

The King’s Farewell to the People—His Illness—His Death—Erick the new King of Sweden—Debates on the Lord’s Supper—Controversies—Madness of King Erick—Massacres—Death of Burrey—Deposition of Erick—His harsh Captivity—Catholicism favored by King John—Catholicism in the ascendent—Arrival of Jesuits—Their Profession of Evangelical Doctrines—Their Attempt to convert the King—Fratricide—Death of the ex-King Erick—Conversion of John III. to Popery—Sudden Change of the King—His Death—The Assembly of Upsala in 1593—Adoption of the Confession of Augsburg 322

First Gleams—Louis II.—Mary of Hungary—Beginning of the Reformation—The first Preachers—Their Wish to see Luther—Threatenings of Persecution—Intolerance of the Catholic Clergy—Louis II. and Frederick the Wise—The Gospel at Hermannstadt—Noteworthy Progress—Severe Ordinance against the Reform—First Act the burning of the Books—Flight of Grynæus—New Efforts—An Execution at Buda—Another Storm 342

Solyman’s Army—Hungary entirely unprepared—Vain Attempts to raise an Army—The small Troop of King Louis—Battle of Mohacz—Death of Louis II.—Sorrow of the Queen—Consolation offered by Luther—A Hymn of Resignation—Two Kings of Hungary—Martyrs at Liebethen—Edict of Persecution 356

Mathias Biro Devay—Student at Wittenberg—Various Lords Protectors of Reform—Slackening of Persecution—Reform xxviat Hermannstadt—Solyman’s Refusal to oppress the Protestants—Confession of Augsburg welcomed by Hungarians—Devay’s Return to Hungary—His Pastorate at Buda—His Fellow-workers—Devay cast into Prison—His Appearance before the Bishop of Vienna—His Defence and Acquittal—Imprisoned again—Asylum offered Him by Count Nadasdy—Controversies with Szegedy—Devay at Wittenberg—Melanchthon’s Letter to Nadasdy—Devay at Basel—The Printing-press and Schools—Stephen Szantai—His Enemies the Bishops—Conference appointed by Ferdinand—Embarrassment of the Arbitrators—Embarrassment of Ferdinand—Efforts of the Bishops—Banishment of Szantai 366

The Doctrines of Zwinglius in Hungary—Occasion of Trouble to some Minds—Political Divisions—Fresh Invasion of the Turks—Dispersion of Evangelical Divines—Abatement of Moslem Violence—Renewed Courage of the Christians—Progress of the Reformation—Devay in Switzerland—His Adoption of Calvin’s Doctrines—Luther’s Grief—Martin de Kalmance—Hostility excited against him—Persecution instigated by the Priests—Ordinances of Ferdinand—Courage of the Christians of Leutschau—Stephen Szegedin—His Knowledge and Eloquence—His Writings—His Acceptance of Calvin’s Doctrines—Hated by the Papists—His Banishment 388

Rome the Persecutor—Islamism tolerant—Council of Trent—The Union of Christians in Hungary—Confessions of Faith—Szegedin in the South of Hungary—His second Banishment—Emeric Eszeky—The Gospel at Tolna—Refusal of the Turks to persecute—Spread of the Gospel—Rule of the Turks favorable to the Gospel—The Faith embraced in the whole of Transylvania 406

The United Brethren—Relations with Luther—Luther’s Goodwill—Discussions on the Lord’s Supper—The Calixtines—Poland evangelized by the Bohemians—First Successes—Luther’s Reformation in Poland—Jacob Knade at Dantzic—The Gospel well received—Religious Liberty—A Revolution at Dantzic—Reorganization of the Church—Appeal of the Catholics to the King—Harshness of Sigismund—Final Triumph of the Gospel—The Gospel at Cracow—Embraced by many eminent Persons—Words of Luther—Attempted Reformation in Russia 417

John Alasco—At Zurich—His Intercourse with Zwinglius—His Stay at Basel—His Intimacy with Erasmus—Study of Holy Scripture—His Diligence and Progress—Spiritual Enjoyments of his Life at Basel—Praised by Erasmus—Alasco compelled to leave Basel—His Travels—Return to Poland—His Life at Court—His Weakness—Suspected of Heresy—An Investigation—Alasco’s Renunciation of Reform—His Fall—Honors—Awakening of Conscience—His better Knowledge of the Truth—Liberty—New Honors—Alasco’s Refusal of Them—His Departure from Poland—On his Way to the Netherlands 433

Alasco’s Marriage—Trials and Consolations—Religious Condition of Friesland—Alasco in Poland—His Return to Friesland—His Relations with Hardenberg—Seeking after Separation from Rome—Alasco Superintendent of Friesland—Prudence and Zeal—Accusations—Threats—Hatred of the Monks—A Letter of Alasco—God or the World—The Reformer’s Victory—Patience and Success—Various Sects—A false xxviiiChrist Unmasked—Government of the Church—Doctrine—Oppositions—New Strength—Tribulations—A hidden Protector—Viglius of Zuychem—His elevated Position—Secret Report on his Tendencies—His real Sentiments—Contrast 455

Freedom and Wealth—Ambition of Charles V.—Precursors of the Reformation—The Reformation at Antwerp—At Louvain—Erasmus attacked—Violent Proceedings of the Monks—Persecuting Edict—Arrest of Jacob Spreng—His Recantation—His Grief and Repentance—The Inquisition—Cornelius Grapheus, an Erasmian—His Imprisonment—Useless Abjuration—Henry of Zutphen, Evangelist—His Stay at Wittenberg—His Preaching at Antwerp—-His Arrest—His Rescue by the People—His Fate in Holstein—Demolition of the Convent of the Augustines—Numerous Adhesions to Reform—The Heavenly Spouse—Faith and Courage—Conventicles—A Martyr—Tolerance of some of the Bishops—One of the ‘Illuminated’—Luther’s Counsels 480

Charles V.—His Policy in the Netherlands—Charles of Egmont’s Letter to the Pope—The Pope’s Answer—Jan van Bakker—His Faith—His Breach with Rome—His Imprisonment—His Trial—Refusal to recant—Condemnation—Martyrdom—A Legend—Fruitless Attempt at Outward Reformation—New Edict of Persecution—The Humanist Gnapheus—The Widow Wendelmutha—Attempt to make her give Way—Her Condemnation—Execution—The Renewed Gospel 506

Compassion of Charles V.—Rage of Charles of Egmont—Executions Multiplied—Martyrdom of William of Zwoll—Victims xxixof Charles V.—Death of Margaret of Austria—Mary of Hungary, Governess of the Netherlands—Her false Position—Cornelius Crocus—John Sartorius—Controversies—Some Books of Sartorius—New Edict of Persecution—A courageous Town—A Family of Martyrs—Crimes and Horrors—Sorrow and Distress—The Enthusiasts—Cruel Fanaticism—Unhealthy Fermentation—‘Illuminated’ Prophets—The Tailor Bockhold—Excesses and Follies—Illuminism the Offspring of Persecution—The Netherlands breaking off from Lutheranism to embrace Calvinism 524

Peter Bruly at Ghent—The Evangelists—Antoinette and Gudule—Pastor Jan van Ousberghen—The Faithful—An innocent Walk—Conventicles—Boldness of the Sculptor Beyaerts—Epidemic at Louvain—Arrests—Arrests by Night—Twenty-three Prisoners—The Examinations—The Wise confounded by simple Women—Paul de Roovere—Insulted—Terrified—His Recantation—New Victims—Great Display of Force—Executions—Antoinette van Roesmals—Buried alive—Giles Tielmans—His simple Faith—His unbounded Charity—His evangelical Zeal—Trouble and Terror among the Faithful—Imprisonment of Giles Tielmans—The Evangelist Ousberghen—His Arrest—Trial—Fears—Condemnation—A great Light—Execution of Ousberghen—Execution of Giles Tielmans 546

CHAPTER XIX.
RECALL OF CALVIN TO GENEVA.
(August 1540 to March 1541.)

The friends of the Reformers were once more in the majority at Geneva. The very mistakes of their enemies had restored their moral authority and enlarged their influence. It would have been difficult in so short a time to have committed a greater number of mistakes, or mistakes of a graver character. Beza undoubtedly gives utterance to the general feeling when he declares that ‘the city began to claim again its Calvin and its Farel.’

The ministers who were filling their places were not men likely to make their predecessors forgotten. They were not up to their task. In their preaching there was little unity, little understanding of the Scriptures; and people were not wanting at Geneva to make them sensible of their inferiority. It was for them a period of trouble, humiliation, strife, and unhappiness. The wind was changed. These poor pastors in their turn were objects of ill-will; and they complained bitterly of the censures and the insults which they had to undergo. 2The council did nothing more than send out of the town a poor blind man who had given offence to them, and ordered them to go on peaceably with the duties of their ministry. But the ministers were by this time aware of the mistake which they had made when they consented to take the place of such men as Farel and Calvin. Morand, who was of a susceptible nature, was shocked to find himself exposed to what he called ‘intolerable calumnies and execrable blasphemies.’ He was at the same time indignant that justice was not done on the ‘lies.’ He gave in his resignation to the council, expressing his desire ‘that his good brethren might have better reason to stay with them; otherwise,’ said he, ‘look for nothing but ruin and famine.’ He then went away without further leave. This was on the 10th of August.^[10]

When Marcourt heard of the departure of his colleague he was upset and indignant. What! leave him alone on the field of battle! and that without giving any warning (the other two pastors went for nothing)! He relieved himself by giving vent to his feeling. ‘Bad man!’ he exclaimed, ‘traitor!’ And he loudly condemned before all the people the pastor who had deserted. They were going on together tolerably well, and they could at least complain to one another. Before the council Marcourt took a high tone. ‘Put a stop to these insults,’ said he, ‘or I too will go away.’ The council merely charged him to invite Viret to come and take the Place of Morand. To have such a colleague would have been an honor to Marcourt; but Viret had no mind to go to Geneva while Calvin was in exile. Marcourt took his resolution and, like Morand, departed abruptly, without leave. It was the 20th of September.

After the departure of these two ministers, the only ones who had any talent, the council, in their turn, had to say, What is to become of us? Their best pastors 3having abandoned them, there remained only two incapable men, De la Mare and Bernard. The gentlemen of the council felt themselves greatly straitened. The destitution was extreme, the danger pressing, and the distress great. Then a cry was uttered: a cry not of anguish but of hope. Calvin! they said, Calvin! Calvin alone could now save Geneva. The day after the departure of Marcourt, the friends of the Reformer in the council made bold to name him; and it was decreed ‘that Master A. Marcourt having gone away, commission was given to Seigneur A. Perrin to find means of getting Master Calvin, and to spare no pains for that purpose.’ The Reformer was therefore apprised of the desire which had arisen for his return. When a people have banished their most powerful protector, the most pressing duty is to get him back again. The Genevese had their mournful but profitable reflections.

By the departure of Morand and Marcourt Geneva was left in a state of great dearth, and the friends of Calvin did not shrink from saying so. Porral reproached De la Mare with overthrowing Holy Scripture. The preacher hastened to complain to the council. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he (September 29), ‘Porral alleges that what I preach is poison; but I am ready to maintain on my life that my doctrine is of God.’ Porral, over-zealous, then began to open the catalogue of what he called the heresies of the preacher. ‘He has said that the magistrate ought not always to punish the wicked. He has said that Jesus Christ went to his death more joyfully than ever a man to his nuptials,’ &c. &c. ‘I maintain that these assertions are false,’ added Porral. De la Mare was angry and demanded justice. ‘But other business was pressing and nothing was done in this matter.’^[11]

‘Beloved brethren,’ he wrote to his friends at Geneva, 4‘nothing has grieved me more, next to the troubles which have well-nigh overthrown your church, than to hear of your strifes and debates with the ministers who succeeded us. Not only is your church torn by these dissensions, but more—and this is a matter of the gravest importance—the ministry is exposed to disgrace. Where strife and discord exist, there can hardly be the faintest hope of progress in the best things. Not that I desire to deprive you of the right, which God has given to you as to all his people, of subjecting all pastors to examination for the purpose of distinguishing between the good and the bad,^[12] and of putting down those who under the mask of pastors display the rapacity of wolves. My wish is only that, when there are men who in a fair degree discharge the duties of the pastor, you should think rather of what you owe to others than of what others owe to you. Do not forget that the call of your ministers was not given without the will of God; for although our banishment must be attributed to the craft of the devil, still it was not the will of God that you should be altogether destitute of a ministry, or that you should fall again under the yoke of Antichrist. Moreover, do not forget another matter, namely your own sins, which assuredly deserve no light punishment.

‘This subject calls for a great deal of discrimination. Assuredly I would not be the man to introduce tyranny into the church.^[13] I would not consent that good men should be obliged to submit to pastors who do not fulfil their calling. If the respect and deference which the Lord awards to the ministers of his word and to them alone be paid to certain persons who do not deserve them, it is an intolerable indignity. Whosoever does not teach 5the word of our Lord Jesus Christ, whatever titles and prerogatives he may boast, is unworthy to be regarded as a pastor. But our brethren, your present ministers, do teach you the Gospel; and I do not see why you should be allowed to slight them or to reject them. If you say that there are features in their teaching and their character which do not please you, remember that it is not possible to find a man in whom there is not much room for improvement. If you are incessantly disputing with your ministers, you are trampling underfoot their ministry, in which the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ ought to shine forth.’

If the council did not come to a decision on the question which Calvin had decided, it was because, as it declared, it had other business in hand; and the most important of all was the recall of that great teacher who had displayed so much fairness and moderation. The council felt more and more that the powerful mind and the high authority of Calvin were indispensable in Geneva; and therefore again and again they pressed for his return. On September 20 the Little Council gave Perrin the commission of which we have spoken. On October 13 the Two Hundred decreed that a letter should be written to the Reformer, ‘begging him to consent to assist us.’ Michel Dubois was to be the bearer of the letter, and ‘was to make earnest appeals to the friends of the Reformer to persuade him to come.’ On the 19th the same council decided ‘that, for the promotion of the honor and glory of God, every thing possible must be done to get Master Calvin back.’ The next day the people assembled in General Council decreed that, ‘for the advancement and extension of the word of God, a deputation should be sent to Strasburg to fetch Master Calvin, who is very learned, to be evangelical minister in this town.’ On October 22 Louis Dufour, a member of the Two Hundred, was instructed to take the message of the councils to Strasburg; and on the 27th, twenty golden écus au 6soleil were voted to him for the purpose of fetching Master Calvin. They insisted upon it; they reiterated their determination; they decided the matter, and then decided it over again; they did not hesitate to repeat it again and again. The matter was of such importance that entreaties must be urgent. Dufour set out. Would he succeed? That was the question, and it was very doubtful.^[14] When Calvin received the first message, previous to that of Dufour, he was so much excited and thrown into so great a perplexity that for two days he was hardly master of himself.^[15] Remembering the distress of mind which he had suffered at Geneva, his whole soul shrank with horror from the thought of returning thither. Had not his conscience been put to the torture? Had not anxieties consumed him? ‘I dread that town,’ he exclaimed, ‘as a place fatal to me.^[16] Who will blame me if I am unwilling to plunge again into that deadly gulf? Besides, can I believe that my ministry will be profitable there? The spirit which actuates most of the inhabitants is such as will be intolerable to me, and I shall be equally so to them.’ Then turning his thoughts in another direction he exclaimed—‘Nevertheless I desire so earnestly the good of the church of Geneva, that I would sooner risk my life a hundred times than betray it by desertion.^[17] I am ready therefore to follow the advice of those whom I regard as sure and faithful guides.’ It was to Farel that Calvin thus poured out his heart. It was his advice that he sought, and there was no doubt what this advice would be.

The Reformer also consulted his Strasburg friends, and agreed with them that he could not abruptly quit the 7church of which he was then pastor; and, above all, that he must be present at the assembly of Worms, as he had already been present in the spring at that of Hagenau. He therefore wrote to the lords of Geneva: ‘It has been arranged by the gentlemen of the council of this town that I should go with some of my brethren to the assembly of Worms, in order to serve not one church alone, but all churches, among which yours is included. I do not, indeed, think myself so wise, so great, or so experienced that I can be of any great use there; but, since a matter of such high concern is at stake, and as it has been arranged not only by the council of this town, but also by others, that I should go there, I am obliged to obey. But I can call God to witness that I hold your church in such esteem that I would never be wanting to it in the time of its need in any thing which I could possibly undertake.’^[18]

Calvin’s letter was written on the 23d of October; and Dufour brought him a letter from the council dated the day before. When the delegate reached Strasburg Calvin was already at Worms, where an important conference was about to be held between the Protestant and the Catholic theologians, for the purpose of endeavoring to come to an understanding with each other, in pursuance of the plan agreed upon at Hagenau. The Genevese messenger appeared before the senate of Strasburg, and made known to them the purpose of his journey. The senate replied that Calvin was absent, and that without his consent they could make no promise. Dufour then determined to follow the Reformer to the town which Luther, by his Christian heroism, had made illustrious. ‘I will ascertain exactly,’ he said, ‘what he thinks of our call.’ A courier carried to Worms the news of the arrival of the Genevese deputation, and the Strasburg magistrate entrusted him with a letter for his deputies, Jacob Sturm and Mathias Pfarrer, in which he enjoined them 8to do all they could to prevent Calvin making any engagement with the Genevese. The high estimate formed of Calvin in Germany, the fact that an imperial city sent this Frenchman as a deputy to assemblies convoked by the Emperor to take into consideration the deepest interests of the Empire, might well contribute to work a change in the opinion of some of the citizens of the little republic with respect to Calvin, of whom it had hitherto been possible to say: ‘A prophet is not without honor save in his own country.’ The Genevese deputy arrived two days after the courier, and delivered to Calvin the letter of the Council of Geneva. He read it, and it is easy to imagine the impression which it must make on him. It ran as follows:

‘Our excellent brother and special friend, we commend ourselves to you very affectionately, because we are fully assured that you have no other desire but for the increase and advancement of the glory and honor of God, and of his holy Word. On behalf of our Little, Great, and General Councils (all of which have strongly urged us to take this step), we pray you very affectionately that you will be pleased to come over to us, and to return to your former post and ministry; and we hope that by God’s help this course will be a great advantage for the furtherance of the holy Gospel, seeing that our people very much desire you, and we will so deal with you that you shall have reason to be satisfied.

This letter was fastened with a seal bearing the motto—Post tenebras spero lucem.

The invitation to Geneva was clear, affectionate, and 9pressing. But the courier, who had reached Worms two days before, had brought to the Strasburg deputies a letter from their senate the purport of which was entirely the reverse. All those who had heard the letter read, and Calvin most of all, had been astonished at the eagerness to keep the Reformer which the magistrates of this free city expressed. ‘I had never imagined,’ he said, ‘that they set such value upon me.’^[20] He thus found himself pressed on two sides, Geneva and Strasburg: and if the fancy were not too high-flown, we might say that the Latin and the German races were at this moment contending for the man who but a little while before was driven away from the town in which he lived. The decision which Calvin had to form was a solemn and difficult one. His whole career in this world was at stake. He called together such of his friends as were then at Worms for the purpose of consulting with them. To return to Geneva was, in his view, to sacrifice his life, but he was resolved to take this course if his friends counselled it. ‘The faithful,’ thought he, ‘must heartily abandon their life when it is a hindrance to their drawing nigh to Christ. They must in such case act like one who throws off his shoulders a heavy and tiresome burden when he wants to go quickly elsewhere. Let us take our life in our hands, and offer it to God as a sacrifice.’^[21]

Calvin’s counsellors not being of one mind, it was agreed to wait until the deputation from Geneva should arrive.^[22] But having received letters from Farel and from Viret, Calvin called his friends together again, and laying before them all the reasons which he could find, said, ‘I conjure you, in giving your advice, to leave my person altogether out of the question.’^[23] In this very town of 10Worms, where Luther, in the presence of Charles V., had not shrunk from offering the sacrifice of his life, Calvin declared himself ready to do the same. His language was deeply pathetic. ‘Tears flowed from his eyes more abundantly than words from his lips.’^[24] His friends were moved at the sight of the sincerity and depth of his feelings. His discourse was more than once interrupted by emotion. His soul was deeply stirred. He perceived that upon this moment hung a decision which must affect his whole life. They were no terrors of imagination which disturbed him. The struggles and the distress which he passed through at Geneva probably exceeded his anticipations. He was quite overpowered and wishing to conceal from his friends the passion of his grief, and to pour out his heart freely before God alone, he twice left the room and sought retirement.^[25] The opinion of his friends was that for the time he should not make an engagement, but that he might hold out a hope to the Genevese. Calvin, however, went further. In the midst of the conflict through which his soul had just passed he had resolved on the course which terrified him. He would go to Geneva, and he said to the friends of the Reformation, ‘I beg of you to promise that when this diet is over, you will not throw any obstacle in the way of my going to Geneva.’ The thought that it was God’s will that he should be there was constantly presenting itself to his conscience afresh, and this even in spite of himself. The Strasburg deputies reluctantly assented. Capito wished to keep him. Bucer desired that he should be free to accept the call, ‘unless, indeed,’ he added, ‘any contrary wind should blow from your own side.’^[26]

Calvin wrote to Geneva on November 12, 1540, as follows:—‘Magnificent, mighty, and honorable Lords, were 11it only for the courtesy with which you treat me, it would be my duty to endeavor to meet your wishes. But there is, besides, the singular love which I bear to your church, which God once committed to my care, so that I am forever bound to promote its good and its salvation. Nevertheless, be so good as to remember that I am here at Worms for the purpose of serving, with what small ability God has given me, all Christian churches. For this reason I am, for the present, unable to come and serve you.’^[27] There was one point which Calvin put forward in all his letters to the council. He would not go to Geneva merely as a teacher and preacher, but also as a guide (conducteur), and with power to act in such a way that the members of the church might conform to the commandments of God. On October 23, 1540, he wrote: ‘I doubt not that your church is in great distress and in danger of being still further wasted unless help comes. For this reason I will strive, with all the grace which God has given me, to bring it back into a better state.’ On November 12, in the letter which we quote, he wrote, ‘The anxiety I feel that your church should be well governed, will lead me to try every means of succoring its need.’ On February 19, 1541, he says to them, ‘I beg you to bethink yourselves of all the means of wisely constituting your church, that it may be ruled according to the command of our Lord.’^[28] Calvin was therefore anxious to make the rulers at Geneva understand that one condition of his return was that the church should be well governed and morals well regulated. He did not wish to take any one by surprise. If he is to be pastor at Geneva, he will reprove the disobedient, as the word of God commands.

He foresaw, nevertheless, that this would be difficult, and his distress was not relieved. The reasons for and against contended with each other in his mind. He was wrapt in confusion and darkness. He was weighed down 12with a burden. His agitation made it impossible for him to judge calmly, according to right and reason. ‘With respect to this call from Geneva,’ he wrote to his friend Nicolas Parent, ‘my soul is so full of perplexity and darkness, that I dare not even think of what I am to do. When I do enter upon the subject I see no way of escape. Plunged in this distress, I distrust myself and give myself up to others to guide me.’ He was in the condition depicted by a poet, in which

He added, ‘Let us pray God to show us the right path.’^[29] We are reminded that Luther had likewise had a similar period of distress in this very town of Worms in 1521.^[30]

While these things were passing at Strasburg and at Worms, the revival of the Gospel at Geneva was becoming more and more manifest. In December, 1540, the council, anxious to provide for the good of the church, had besought the lords of Berne with earnest entreaties to send them Viret, then pastor at Lausanne. A letter had also been written to Viret himself. Calvin having expressed a desire to see this friend at work in Geneva, the Vaudois evangelist had replied that he was ready to do all that he could; even adding that ‘he would willingly shed his blood for Geneva:’ and he had arrived there at the beginning of 1541. He had immediately applied himself to preaching the word of God, a task for which he was very well fitted, say the registers, and his preaching bore much fruit. Viret was certainly the man that was wanted in this town, the scene of so many conflicts and storms. ‘He handled Scripture well,’ says Roset, who had doubtless heard him, ‘and he was gifted with eloquence which charmed the people.’^[31] He taught with meekness those who 13were of the contrary opinion, and thought, as Calvin says, that kindliness ought to be shown even to those who are not worthy of it. His gentle accents penetrated men’s hearts, and his actions added force to his words. For the children of Jean Philippe, who perished on the scaffold, he obtained permission to return. These children, by the unrighteous laws of the time, had been the victims of the offences of their father. He set himself to the re-establishing of order in the church, and to restoring the Gospel to honor in Geneva. The civil magistrate was among the first to profit by his exhortations; and in the middle of January it was decreed that ‘since the Lord God had done so much good to Geneva, his holy name should be called upon at the opening of the sittings of the council, and wise ordinances should be passed, that every one might know how he ought to act.’ The people in general desired the return of Calvin, and were more and more friendly to the new order of things.

It was thus with Jacques Bernard, the most influential of the two ministers still remaining at Geneva. Observing the change which was taking place in public opinion, he too faced about. We can even imagine that he was moved to do so by grave reasons. On the first Sunday in February he set out with a heavy heart to the Auditoire at Rive, where he was going to preach. The distress of the church, the departure of Morand and Marcourt, the reduction of the ministry to two pastors, De la Mare and himself, the sense of their inadequacy to a task so large and for a people so numerous, weighed upon his heart.^[32] He appeared in the pulpit before an audience sad and dispirited, who, overpowered by grief on account of their terrible forlornness, burst into tears.^[33] The poor old Genevese and ex-Cordelier, a lover of his native place, was greatly affected. He felt impelled to urge upon his 14hearers that they should turn to the Lord their God; and he began to utter a humble and earnest prayer, supplicating Christ, the sovereign bishop of souls, to take pity on Geneva, and to send to the city such a pastor as the church stood in need of. The people followed his prayer very devoutly.

On February 6 Bernard wrote to Calvin, and after relating to him the above circumstances, he added: ‘To speak the truth, I was not thinking of you, I had no expectation that you would be the man that we were asking of God. But the next day, when the Council of the Two Hundred had assembled every one wished for Calvin. On the following day, the General Council met, and all cried out: We want Calvin, who is an honest man and a learned minister of Christ.^[34] When I heard this, I praised God and understood that this was the Lord’s doing and was marvellous in our eyes, that the stone which the builders refused had become the head-stone of the corner. Come then, my revered father in Jesus Christ; it is to us that you belong; the Lord God has given you to us. All are longing for you; and you will see how welcome your arrival will be to all. You will discover that I am not such a man as the reports of some may have led you to suppose, but that I am a sincere friend to you and a faithful brother. What do I say? You will find that I am entirely devoted to you and full of deference to your wishes. Delay not to come. You will see Geneva a nation renewed, assuredly by the work of God, but also by the ministrations of Viret. The Lord Jesus grant that your return may be speedy! Consent to come to the help of our church. If you do not come, the Lord God will require our blood at your hands, for he has set you for a watchman over the house of Israel within our walls.’ Marcourt had written to Calvin a similar letter.^[35]

Calvin had been named deputy to Worms by the council 15of Strasburg, on account of the abilities which he had displayed at Frankfort and at Hagenau. These two conferences he had attended merely in his private capacity. But the council perceived, says Sturm, ‘that his presence might do much honor to Strasburg in that assembly of distinguished men.’ The Dukes of Luneburg, important members of the empire, had likewise elected him their representative, so that he was invested with a twofold office.^[36] Calvin, notwithstanding his youth and his timidity, his foreign nationality and language, felt that he could not resist the importunities, one might almost say the violence, which were employed to get him to accept this important calling. ‘However much,’ said he afterwards, ‘I continued to be myself, in reluctance to attend great assemblies, I was nevertheless taken as if by force to the imperial diets, at which, whether I liked it or not, I could not avoid being thrown into the company of many men.’^[37] He had, moreover, the happiness of meeting there two men in whose society he took much delight, two colleagues and friends of Luther whom he had previously seen, one of them at Frankfort, the other at Hagenau, but with whom he now associated more intimately. They were Melanchthon and Cruciger. The former had acknowledged his agreement with him on the doctrine of the Lord’s supper. Cruciger requested of him a private conversation on the same subject; and, after Calvin had explained his view, he stated that he approved it as Melanchthon had done. Thus two Wittenberg theologians and one of Geneva easily came to an agreement. Sincere and prudent men therefore do not find concord so difficult a thing as is supposed.

At Worms was formed that intimate friendship between Melanchthon and Calvin which might be so serviceable to each of them as well as to the Church. But troublesome 16spirits were not wanting in this town. Among others there was the dean of Passau, Robert of Mosham, who at Strasburg had already had a discussion with Calvin, in which the advantage did not remain with the Roman Catholic champion. He considered it a point of honor to seek his revenge, and he was once more thoroughly beaten by the learned and powerful doctor. The superiority of Calvin, and the remembrance of his former defeat, inspired terror in the heart of the dean, and he got out of his depth.^[38] Melanchthon, who was present at their conference, followed Calvin with as warm an interest as he had manifested twenty-one years before at the disputation of Luther with Dr. Eck at Leipsic. He admired the clearness, the accuracy, the depth and force of the theological propositions and proofs of the young French doctor; and charmed at once by an intellect so clear and a knowledge so profound, he proclaimed him THE THEOLOGIAN par excellence. This designation was worth all the more as originating with Melanchthon; but all the evangelical doctors who heard him were struck not only with his language, but with the wealth and weight of his thoughts and his arguments.

From the time of this intercourse at Worms, there always existed between Melanchthon and Calvin that warm affection and that peculiar esteem which are felt by the dearest friends. Esteem was perhaps uppermost in Melanchthon, and affection in Calvin. On the one side the friendship was founded more on reflection (réfléchi), on the other it was more spontaneous. But on both sides it was the product of their noble and beautiful qualities. They esteemed each other and loved each other because they both had the same zeal for all that is true, good, and lovely, and because, with a noble emulation, they were striving to attain these blessings and to diffuse them in 17the world. When the best among men draw together, and especially when Christianity purifies and consecrates their union, then their characters and their hearts are exalted, and their mutual love cannot fail to exert a beneficial influence. This friendship between two such men at first surprises us. They are usually set in contrast with one another; the Frenchman being looked upon as an example of extreme severity, and the German of extreme gentleness. How then, it may be said, could the soft, sweet tones of the soul of Melanchthon set in vibration the iron soul of Calvin? The reason is that his was not an iron soul. So far, indeed, as the great truths of salvation were concerned, Calvin was no more to be bent than an iron bar; for these he was ready to die. But in his relations as a husband, a father, and a friend, he had a most tender heart. Even if, in the controversies of the age, the discussion turned on matters of doctrine not affecting salvation, he could bear with and even love his opponents as few Christians have done.

The friendship of Melanchthon and Calvin was not one of those earthly ties which pass away with the years; this affection was deep-seated and its bonds were firm. The two friends had long interviews with each other at Worms. Melanchthon never forgot them. ‘Would that I could talk fully and freely with thee,’ he wrote to Calvin at a later period, ‘as we used to do when we were together!‘^[39] Having received a work of Calvin’s in which he was mentioned, Melanchthon said to him—‘I am delighted with thy love for me; and I thank thee for thinking of inscribing a memorial of it in so famous a book, as in a place of honor.’ ‘Yes, dear brother,’ wrote he on another occasion, ‘I long to speak with thee of the weightiest matters, because I have a high opinion of thy judgment, and because I know the uprightness of thy soul, thy perfect candor. I am now living here like an ass in a wasp’s nest.’^[40]

18Calvin, although he loved Melanchthon, did not fail at the same time to tell him freely his opinion whenever he appeared too yielding. He had been told that, on one occasion of this kind, Melanchthon tore his letter to pieces; but he found that this was a mistake. ‘Our union,’ he said to him, ‘must remain holy and inviolable; and since God has consecrated it we must keep it faithfully to the end, for the prosperity or the ruin of the Church is in this case at stake. Oh! that I could talk with thee! I know thy candor, the elevation of thy sentiments, thy modesty and thy piety, manifest to angels and to men.’^[41] Oftentimes Melanchthon, when worn out with the toil imposed on him by his attendance at the assemblies in company with Calvin, worried by the Catholic theologians, and not always agreeing with the Lutherans, overwhelmed with weariness, would betake himself to his friend, throw himself into his arms and exclaim, ‘Oh, would God, would God, I might die on thy bosom!‘^[42] Calvin wished a thousand times that Melanchthon and he might have the happiness of living together. He did not hesitate to say to Melanchthon, ‘that he felt himself to be far inferior to him:’ and nevertheless he believed that, if they had been oftener together, his friend would have been more courageous in the conflict.

The friendship which united Melanchthon and Calvin at Worms, and afterwards at Ratisbon, did not remain without fruit. If Melanchthon, who was head of the Protestant deputation, displayed on that occasion more energy than usual, if the Romish theologians were almost brought over to the Evangelical doctrines, it must be attributed to the influence of Calvin. The metal, till then too malleable, acquired by tempering a greater degree of firmness.

Calvin, however, was saddened by what he saw. It 19might be possible to come to some arrangement with the papacy, which would in appearance make some concessions; but he had no doubt that if Protestantism were once caught in Rome’s net, it was lost. It was this which appears to have taken up his attention in the last days of the year, when mournful thoughts are wont to cast a gloom over the mind. But he did not stop there. He knew that Christ did conquer and will conquer the world. ‘When we are well-nigh overwhelmed in ourselves,’ he said, ‘if we but look at that glory to which Christ our head has been raised, we shall be bold to look with contempt on all the evils which impend over us.’^[43] One circumstance might contribute also to remind him of the victories which Christ gives. On the first day of the year 1541 he was at Worms. Here it was that, twenty years before, Luther had appeared before the emperor and the diet, and by his faith had won a glorious victory. Calvin doubtless remembered this. ‘Moreover,’ says Conrad Badius, an eye-witness, who was admitted to the lodgings of the Protestant doctors, ‘the pope’s adherents were so astounded and distracted by the mere presence of the servants of Jesus Christ, that they did not dare to lift up their heads to utter a word.’^[44]

Deeply affected by the formidable struggle which had been going on for nearly a quarter of a century, and persuaded that Christ would put all his enemies under his feet, Calvin gave utterance to this thought in a Song of Victory (Epinicion). It is the only poem of his that we possess, and it contains some fine lines. ‘Yes,’ sang Calvin, ‘the victory will be Christ’s, and the year which announces to us the day of triumph is now beginning. Let pious tongues break the thankless silence and cause their joy to burst forth. His enemies will say, What madness is this? Are they triumphing over a nation which is not yet subdued, are they seizing the crown before they have 20routed the army? True, impiety sits haughtily on a lofty throne. There still exists one who by a nod bends to his will the most powerful monarchs, his mouth vomiting deadly poison and his hands stained with innocent blood. But for Christ death is life and the cross a victory. The breath of his mouth is the weapon with which he fights, and already for five lustra he has brandished his sword with a vigorous hand, not without smiting. The pope, leader of the sacrilegious army, wounded at last, groans under the unlooked-for plagues which have just fallen upon him, and the profane multitude is trembling for terror. If it be a great thing to conquer one’s enemies by force, what must it be to overthrow them by a mere sign? Christ casts them down without breaking his own repose: he scatters them while he keeps silence. We are a pitiful band, few in number, without apparel, without arms, sheep in the presence of ravening wolves. But the victory of Christ our king is for that very reason all the more marvellous. Let his head then be crowned with the laurel of victory, let him be seated on the chariot drawn by four coursers abreast, that his glory may shine forth before all.

Eck still flushed with his Bacchic orgies, the incompetent Cochlæus, Nausea with his wordy productions, Pelargus with his mouth teeming with insolence—these are not chief men, but the shameless multitude have set them for standard-bearers in the fight. Let them learn then to bow their necks under an unaccustomed yoke. And you, O sacred poets, celebrate in magnificent song the glorious victory of Jesus Christ, and let all the multitude around him shout Io Pæan!‘^[45]

21At the end of February Calvin set out for Ratisbon, to which place the conference of Worms had been transferred by the emperor. He had informed the council of Geneva of this absence on February 1, 1541. ‘I am appointed deputy,’ he said, ‘to the diet of Ratisbon, and since I am God’s servant and not my own, I am ready to serve wheresoever it may seem good to him to call me.’ Touching the arrival of Viret at Geneva he added, ‘He is a man of such faithfulness and discretion, that having him you are not destitute.’^[46] This sojourn of Viret at Geneva was in Calvin’s eyes a matter of great moment. He had grave fears for the city. ‘I greatly fear,’ said he, ‘that if this church had remained much longer in its state of destitution, every thing would have turned out contrary to our wishes; but now I hope; the danger is past.’^[47]

The preparations for his journey had not allowed Calvin to reply immediately to Bernard. The letter of this Genevese pastor was not altogether agreeable to him. Bernard’s application to him of a prophecy referring to Jesus Christ (the head-stone of the corner), was in his eyes a piece of flattery which could only disgust him (usque ad nauseam, he wrote to Farel). However, he knew his man, and so the more willingly took his letter in good part. He wrote to Bernard from Ulm, March 1, that the arguments which he advanced for his return had always had great weight with him; that he was most of all terrified at the thought of fighting against God, and that it was this feeling which never allowed him entirely to reject the call; that he thanked him for his entreaties, and that, seeing his kind intentions, he hoped that the feeling of his heart corresponded to his words, and he promised on his own part all that could be expected of a friend of peace, 22oppose to all strife. ‘But, at the same time,’ he added, ‘I beseech you, in God’s name, and by his awful judgment, to remember what he is with whom you have to do, the Lord, who will call you to give to him an exact account at the judgment day, who will submit you to a most rigorous trial, and who cannot be satisfied with mere words and empty excuses. I ask of you only one thing—that you consecrate yourself sincerely and faithfully to the Lord.’^[48] Thus is it always; his own great motive the will of God; and as to Bernard, he must be a true servant of God. The truth before every thing.

Calvin, meanwhile, was gradually becoming familiar with the thought of returning to Geneva. The same day (March 1) he wrote, it is true, from Ulm to Viret, and said to him, ‘There is no place under heaven that I more dread;‘^[49] but he added, ‘The care required by this church affects me deeply; and I do not know how it happens that my mind begins to lean more to the thought of taking the helm.’ The decisive blow had been struck by Farel. It was he who, in 1541, restored to Geneva this Calvin whom he had first given to the city in 1536.

About the end of February the Reformer received from his friend a letter so pressing and so forcible, ‘that the thunders of Pericles seemed to be heard in it,’ according to the expression of Calvin’s friend, the refugee Claude Feray, who at the Reformer’s request wrote to Farel and thanked him ‘for this vehemence so useful to the whole Christian republic.’^[50] No one knew better than Farel that Calvin alone could save Geneva. The Reformer 23now, therefore, began to change his attitude. Hitherto he had turned his back on the town that called him; from this time he set his face towards the city of the Leman. Almost at the same time Bullinger and other servants of God from Berne, from Basel, and from Zurich, prayed the council and the pastors of Strasburg not to oppose the return of the Reformer.

Meanwhile, however powerful the thunder-peals of Farel might be, there were other circumstances which undoubtedly had an influence on Calvin’s decision. Other thunders were heard, besides those of which Claude Feray speaks, which deeply affected the Reformer, and which must have made it easier to exchange Strasburg for Geneva. The plague was raging in the former town, and was causing great mortality. Claude Feray was one of its first victims. Another friend of the Reformer, M. de Richebourg, had two sons at Strasburg, Charles and Louis; Louis was carried off by the epidemic three days after Feray. Antoine, Calvin’s brother, immediately took the other son, Charles, to a neighboring village. Desolation was in the house of the Reformer. His wife and his sister Maria quitted it likewise and went to join their brother Antoine. Calvin was in consternation as he received at Ratisbon, in rapid succession, these mournful tidings. ‘Day and night,’ said he, ‘my wife is incessantly in my thoughts; she is without counsel, for she is without her husband.’ The death of Louis, the sorrow of Charles, thus deprived within three days of his brother, and of his tutor Feray, whom he respected as a father, powerfully affected Calvin. But it was the sudden death of the latter, who had been his most trustworthy and most faithful friend at Strasburg, which above all filled him with grief. He thought sorrowfully of himself. ‘The more I feel the need,’ said he, ‘of such an adviser, the more I am persuaded that the Lord is chastising me for my offences.’ Prayer, however, and the Word of God refreshed his soul. He wrote to M. de Richebourg a 24touching letter, which he closed by entreating the Lord to keep him until he should arrive at that place to which Louis and Feray had gone before.^[51]

CHAPTER XX.
CALVIN AT RATISBON.
(1541.)

Calvin had at this time anxieties of another kind, which may well have contributed to make the republic of Geneva preferable to the Germanic empire as a residence. When the conference was broken off at Worms in 1541, he had been elected deputy to the assembly of Ratisbon. It was with reluctance that he went there, either because he felt that he was no diplomatist, and did not consider himself at all fit for business of that kind,^[52] or because he anticipated that his stay at Ratisbon would occasion him much annoyance. He was doubtless hoping always for the final victory of Jesus Christ, the theme of his song of triumph; but the conferences which he had already attended, the prolixities, the questions of mere form which arose, the direction which the Reformation seemed to be taking, all this disquieted and offended him. He had not gone to these Germanic assemblies with any large expectations or ready-made plans. He had no doubt that the Protestant divines would seek to extend the kingdom of Christ, but he saw more clearly than they did the obstacles which they would encounter. Many things afflicted and irritated him; and, perhaps, he could not at all times control his temper. The Catholics, it is true, made some 25|Concessions of the Lutherans.| concessions on important points; but even this failed to tranquillize Calvin, nay, it excited his suspicions, as it did those of Luther and the Elector of Saxony. Dr. Eck, who was one of the commissioners, was not a man to inspire much confidence in Calvin. The latter would sometimes speak rather hard words about him. This theologian had had an apoplectic fit, the consequence, it was rumored, of his intemperance, but he was gradually recovering. ‘The world,’ wrote Calvin to Farel, ‘does not yet deserve to be delivered from this brute.’^[53] He acknowledged the pacific sentiments of Cardinal Contarini, the papal legate, who at the same time that he was a thorough-going Catholic so far as the Church was concerned, leaned towards reconciliation with the Protestants with respect to matters of faith. But Calvin, who assuredly saw more clearly than others, did not doubt that the Roman dignitary really wished to bring back Protestants into the pale of the Church. The only difference which he perceived between him and the nuncio Morone was this—Contarini wishes to subdue us, but without shedding our blood; he tries to gain his end by all means except by fighting, while Morone is altogether sanguinary, and has always war on his lips.^[54] Calvin instituted a contrast between Morone and Contarini. The former is a man of blood, the latter a man of peace. Is it just to say that he hated Contarini?^[55] We think not.

He was much displeased with most of the princes. If any occasion of pleasure presented itself, they would always say, ‘Business to-morrow.’ If Calvin anywhere went into the Lutheran churches, he was saddened by the sight of images and crosses, and by certain parts of the 26service. The relations of the theologians with princes and with courts appeared to him to be bonds of servility and worldliness.

He could not approve even the methods of procedure adopted by his best friends, Melanchthon and Bucer. To Farel he wrote thus: ‘They have drawn up ambiguous and colored formulæ on transubstantiation,^[56] to see if they could not satisfy their opponents without making any real concession to them. I do not like this. I can, nevertheless, assure you and all good men, that they are acting with the best intentions, and are aiming only at the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. They fancy that our antagonists will presently have their eyes opened on the subject of doctrine, and that it is therefore best to leave this point undecided. But they are too accommodating to the temper of the times.’

On February 23 the emperor had arrived at Ratisbon. Electors, princes, archbishops, bishops, and lords of all degrees had gathered around the chief of the empire, and all contributed by their presence to give special importance to the assembly. They wished by subtle negotiations to make an end of the Reformation. Never had there been so great danger for the Protestant opposition of being weakened and dissolved into the Romish hierarchical system. The pope had sent to Germany the amiable and pious Contarini as a capital bait for the Protestants; and these, when once caught, he would have thrown into his own fish-pond, and carefully secured them there. Melanchthon himself had desired that Calvin should attend the assembly, because he felt sure that the young doctor would do there what he himself would not have resolution enough to do. Calvin’s part at Ratisbon was not only to see what others did not see, but also to cry out to his too confiding friends—Beware! The time which he spent at this Germanic diet forms 27one of the most important epochs of his life; one in which he was called to act on the loftiest stage. The firmness with which he unveiled the designs of the papacy and strengthened the feeble Protestants had much to do with the breaking off of the insidious negotiations which Contarini himself at last felt bound to abandon. The Reformation of the sixteenth century was at this time menaced in Germany. It was necessary to save it. The sayings of Calvin hit hard. Some have said they were exaggerated; and yet ecclesiastical occurrences of succeeding years justified them. Learned and pious Catholics have uttered against Rome many of the same reproaches as the Reformer did. If Calvin did not recognize in the Roman Catholic Church some worthy and truly pious men, he was mistaken. But there is no evidence of such a mistake on his part. When he replies to a discourse of a nephew and legate of the pope—of the pope himself—it is only the Romish hierarchy that he attacks; and the more he finds the Germans disposed to give way, the more he feels it to be his duty to speak clearly, decisively, and courageously. ‘If the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who will prepare himself to the battle?’

Pope Paul III. had sent to the emperor his nephew, Cardinal Farnese, ‘who was only just past boyhood.’ This young prelate had faithfully addressed to Charles V. the discourse which he had received from his uncle; and this was a bill of indictment against the Protestants. To this manifesto of the papacy Calvin felt it to be his duty to reply,^[57] and thus to re-establish the truth which was trampled under foot. Never, perhaps, had the Reformation and the Papacy come into more direct collision, and this in the persons of their most considerable combatants, and, as it were, in the presence of the emperor and the diet. The epoch at which this dialogue appeared, the distinguished character of the interlocutors, 28the importance of the subjects discussed, the necessity that a history of the Reformation should not be limited to external movements but should penetrate to principles, and the circumstance that this work of Calvin’s has remained so long unknown—all these considerations compel us to fix our attention upon it. We cannot forget what Luther called ‘the kernel of the nut, the flour of the wheat, and the marrow of the bones.’ The Reformation is above all an idea: it has a soul, a life. It is the depth of this soul that Calvin here lays open. Let the pope and the reformer speak. The latter speaks with all the energy imparted to him by his character, his youth, and his indignation. Pope Paul III. addresses the mighty Emperor of Germany, and we may properly say that Calvin, although indirectly, does the same. This strange colloquy is well worth the trouble of listening to it.

The Pope. ‘We are desirous of the peace and the unity of Germany; but of a peace and a unity which do not constitute a perpetual war against God.’

Calvin. ‘That is to say, against the earthly god, the Roman god. For if he (the pope) wished for peace with the true God, he would live in a different manner; he would teach otherwise and reign otherwise than he does. For his whole existence, his institutions, and his decrees make war on God.’

The Pope. ‘The Protestants are like slippery snakes; they aim at no certain object, and thus show plainly enough that they are altogether enemies of concord, and want, not the suppression of vice, but the overthrow of the apostolic see! We ought not to have any further negotiations with them.’

Calvin. ‘Certainly, there is a snake in the grass here. The pope, who holds in abomination all discussion, cannot hear it spoken of without immediately crying “Fire!” in order to prevent it. Only let any one call to mind all the little assemblies held by the pontiffs these twenty years and more, for the purpose of smothering the Gospel, 29and then he will see clearly what kind of a reformation they would be willing to accept.^[58] All men of sound mind see clearly that the question is not only of maintaining the status of the pope as a sovereign and limited episcopacy, but rather of completely setting aside the episcopal office and of establishing in its stead and under its name an antichristian tyranny.^[59] And not only so, but the adherents of the papacy put men out of their minds by wicked and impious lies, and corrupt the world by numberless examples of debauchery. Not contented with these misdeeds, they exterminate those who strive to restore to the Church a purer doctrine and a more lawful order, or who merely venture to ask for these things.’

The Pope. ‘It is impossible to tell in what way to proceed in order to come to any agreement with such people as these, for they are not in agreement even with one another. The Lutherans want one thing, the Zwinglians want another, to say nothing of other sects.’

Calvin. ‘This is a malicious fiction. Let the institutions of Jesus Christ and the worship of the early church be re-established; let every thing be cast away that is opposed to these, and which can proceed only from Antichrists, and concord will thus be immediately restored among all who are of Christ, whether they be called by their enemies Lutherans or Zwinglians. If there be any who demand other things than those which I have just spoken of, the Protestants do not count them of their number.’^[60]

30The Pope. ‘Even if it were possible to bring about a union, if the Protestants could be brought to obey the holy see, this could not be effected without making many concessions to them.’

Calvin. ‘It is needful only to concede what the Lord concedes and commands. Why does man refuse this?’

The Pope. ‘If these things were allowed, the consequence would be a breach in the unity of the Church; for such changes would never be accepted in France, nor in Spain, nor in Italy, nor in the other provinces of Christendom.’

Calvin. ‘Let the free and sincere preaching of the Gospel be everywhere restored, and there will be no more diversity among the faithful in Christ Jesus; for we ask only for the truth which the Lord has proclaimed for the salvation of his people. With respect to diversities of practice the churches must be left at liberty.^[61] The unity of the Church does not consist in sameness of rites but in sameness of faith. In the ages of the apostles and of the martyrs a sincere unity was maintained among the Christians, notwithstanding differences of ritual observances. But since the several churches of different countries received under the Roman pontiff the same rites, the sole foundations of salvation have been miserably shifted. The just lives by faith, not by ceremonies. No church may insist on any thing which is not of faith as indispensable to Christian communion. There is therefore nothing on the part of the Protestants which makes it difficult, much less impossible, to establish a pious and solid agreement amongst all the churches.’^[62]

The Pope. ‘And if the general council should not approve 31these changes, and should possibly establish the contrary, what hope would there be of then bringing back unity to Germany, which would have had time to grow strong in its new opinions?’

Calvin. ‘What! a council would not only not approve what has been established by the word of Christ himself, but would publicly abrogate it! Good God! what a monster of a council! Such are the fine hopes held out to us by the Roman see. Why should we still wait for this assembly, since if it were held, we should have to repudiate it?’

The Pope. ‘There would be danger, moreover, lest the Protestants, while making some concessions, should attain in return their chief desire, the separation of Catholics from the apostolic see!’

Calvin. ‘From the Roman see, if you please, but not from the apostolic see. The Catholic Protestants ^[63] have no other wish but to get the see of Satan overthrown, and the true see of Christ set up in its place—that see on which rest the apostles and not the Antichrists. Now the point supremely insisted on by the papists is their will to reign in the Church, to be masters of every thing in it, and to leave nothing to Jesus Christ.’

The Pope. ‘We can easily conceive what sort of peace we may have with those Protestants who, sometimes by letters, sometimes by threatening speeches, and sometimes by artful practices, daily lead astray men of all ranks.’

Calvin. ‘These illicit methods are as unusual among us as they are familiar to the Roman bishops. It is not merely a few individuals in Germany that the Protestants wish to enlighten, but the whole world, if the Lord 32permit, in order that all may enjoy together the true and sole religion of Jesus Christ.^[64]

The Pope. ‘Since piety, alas, has grown cold, men are naturally prompted to pass over from a faith too severe to one more lax, from a more continent religion to one more voluptuous, and from submission to independence.’

Calvin. ‘Who could endure such a piece of impudence? Whence, then, has come the ruin of religion which all pious men mourn? Whence comes the contempt of God and of sacred things? Whence, but from the apathy, the ignorance, and the malice with which Rome has buried Christ’s truth, or rather has banished it from the world! Every one knows what these pontiffs have been for four or five hundred years past. It is easy, says the pope, to get men to pass from a continent life to a voluptuous one. Who can hear such things without laughing? Every one knows in what sort of continence and austerity the Roman court lives, and all who are trained in it. Men who have corrupted the whole world by their waywardness, and defiled the earth with every kind of debauchery, have the impudence to reproach others with effeminacy and self-indulgence. Is it not known that the dissoluteness of Rome has been shameless, that luxury, incontinence, and a fabulous licentiousness which has burst all bonds, prevail in the midst of its creatures? And such men dare to exhibit themselves as guardians of obedience, of continence, and of severity!‘^[65]

The Pope. ‘Not only do they lead men astray, but 33they pillage the churches, drive away the bishops, profane religion, and all this with impunity.’

Calvin. ‘Those do not lead men astray who bring them back from deadly errors to Jesus Christ. Those do not pillage churches who snatch them from the hands of plunderers in order to put true pastors in them. Those do not drive away bishops who establish the religion of the Gospel. Those are not guilty of profanation whose work is to restore. What is the doctrine of these men, but that we should trust in the Lord Jesus Christ and live for him; while those of the pope’s party would have us trust in the saints, their bones and their images, in ceremonies and in human works? Where is the parish, where is the abbey, the bishopric, or the rich benefice, which is not held by men whose only accomplishments are hunting, seduction, and other follies and iniquities? Men who, when they become bishops, to be consistent with their profession as now understood, show themselves to be hunters, epicures, haunters of wine-shops, libertines, soldiers, and gladiators? This, verily, is sacrilege and pillage of churches! Has it been possible for Protestants to drive away a bishop, seeing it is so rare a thing to find a man that can fairly pass for one?’

The Pope. ‘It is not the business of particular assemblies but of a general council to deal with religion; and if, without consulting France, Spain, Italy, and the other nations, any new doctrines should be established in Germany, unity no longer existing, we should have in the body of Christ a great monster.’^[66]

Calvin. ‘What! if doctrine and preaching be regulated according to the apostolic institution so that the people may be edified, it is a monster! But if in the whole of Christendom there be nothing but ceremonies without intelligence, prostituted to purposes of impious gain; if there be no reading of Scripture, no exhortations 34from which the people can gather any fruit; if foolish monks or extravagant theological quibblers (théologastres) do nothing but plunge men in darkness—this is no monster!

‘If Christians are taught to offer to God legitimate worship, to cast off all confidence in their own virtues, and to seek in Christ alone full salvation and all hope of blessings to come, this is a monster! But if the worship of God be turned upside down by innumerable superstitions; if men be taught to place their confidence in the vainest of all vanities, to call upon dead men instead of upon God; if new sacrifices without end are invented, new expiations and new mediators; if Jesus Christ be hidden and almost buried under a mass of impious imaginations; this is no monster, and we may walk in this way without fear!

‘If the sacraments are brought back to their primitive purpose, which is that faithful souls may enter more completely into communion with Jesus Christ and devote themselves to a holy life, this is a monster! But if petty priests abuse these mysteries; if they substitute for the holy supper a profane ceremony, which annuls the benefit of Christ’s death, and buries the sacred feast under a confused medley of rites, some of them without meaning, others puerile and ridiculous, there is nothing monstrous in all this!

‘If ministers are given to the churches who nourish the people with sound doctrine, who walk before them as examples, who watch diligently over the safety of the church, remembering that they are fathers and shepherds and must not cherish any other ambition than that of bringing the people into obedience to one master alone, that is Christ; if they govern their families with prudence, bring up their children in the fear of God, and honor the married state by virtuous and chaste living—then this is not only a monster, it is more monstrous than a monster! But if the pope, that Romish idol, as God sitteth in the 35temple of God, showing himself that he is God; if he claim to hold the whole world in the most miserable bondage; if his satellites have no care to publish the Word of God, but persecute it as much as they can with fire and sword; if, while they pour contempt on marriage, they not only seek to invade the nuptial bed, but also defile the land with their obscenities; this is perfectly endurable and has nothing monstrous in it!

‘If one venture to open one’s mouth in favor of a proper application of the wealth of the church; if one attempt to repress the pillage of these thieves, and to get that property expended for the uses to which it was destined; this is a frightful monster. But of these vast resources of the church let there be no portion for the maintenance of faithful ministers, nothing for the schools, nothing for the poor, to whom they ought to belong; let insatiable gulfs absorb and waste them in luxury, licentiousness, play, poisonings and murders; all this is very far from being a monster! What shall I say? At this day there is nothing monstrous in a world in which every thing is notoriously out of order, crazy, profligate, perverted, deformed, twisted, confused, in ruins, dissipated and mutilated. Nothing monstrous, except the moving of a little finger to apply a remedy to such vast evils. Monsters! That must be transported to the end of the earth!‘

The Pope. ‘It is necessary to oppose all these particular assemblies in which matters in controversy are discussed, and to convoke a council. Then the Protestants will either submit to its decrees or will persist in their own views. In the latter case, the Emperor and the King of France, between whom negotiations are now going on, will take advantage of their alliance to correct and to recall them to better thoughts.’

Calvin. ‘So then, in case the Protestants are not willing to place themselves and every thing belonging to them in the hands of the Roman pontiff, they are to be subdued by arms; so long as a single man remains who shall dare 36to open his lips against the abominable supremacy of the Roman see, there shall be no end and no limit to the shedding of blood. Such is the shepherd’s crook of which he will make use to drive the sheep into the fold. But the prophet says, Take counsel together and it shall come to nought; associate yourselves, O ye people, and ye shall be broken in pieces.^[67] There are men, grievous to tell! traitors, enemies of their country, who are everywhere scattering the seeds of intestine war; who, as soon as they think that men’s minds are quite prepared, brandish their torches and kindle a fire; who, the moment they see a spark, make haste to throw dry wood on it and raise a flame with their poisonous breath, until at last the whole of Germany shall be nothing but one vast conflagration.’^[68]

If Calvin is rather sharp in his reply, the pope, it must be owned, had not infused into his attack much mildness or fairness. ‘It is not easy to decide, to speak in a Christian manner,’ he had said, ‘which are the worst enemies of Jesus Christ, the Protestants or the Turks. For the latter kill only the body, but the former destroy the soul.’ This saying shocked even the judicious and impartial Sleidan. ‘Have not the Turks,’ said he, ‘spread their religion everywhere by arms? And who among us have shown more zeal to exalt the grace and the virtue of Jesus Christ than the Protestants, who have in this respect surpassed the Catholics themselves?’ The pope even did not shrink from having recourse to the same methods as the Turks. He had sent to the emperor his own nephew to scheme the destruction of the Reformation and to extinguish it, if need be, in the blood of the Evangelicals; while no one more earnestly than Calvin stigmatized beforehand that fratricidal war, to which the desire to crush the Reformation afterwards gave rise. The blow having been violent, the return blow was energetic. Calvin was wrong, however, 37in one respect—in that he did not fully and publicly acknowledge that there were honorable exceptions to the licentiousness of priests and to the other evils of the papacy. But he has elsewhere exhibited this fairness; for he distinguishes among the Catholics two classes—those in whom malice predominates, and those who are deluded by a false appearance of truth.^[69]

This work bears the date of March, 1541. Calvin arrived at Ratisbon at the beginning of March, and remained there about four months. The emperor was there longer still. It may be supposed that a work so remarkable, written as a reply to the discourse addressed by the pope to Charles V., was read at the time by the emperor’s ministers, perhaps even by the emperor himself. Calvin did not put his name to it, probably in order that attention might be paid to the considerations which are put forward in it, without regard to their authorship; perhaps also in order not to implicate the town of Strasburg which showed him such noble hospitality and of which he was the deputy. But his name is read, so to speak, in every line of this eloquent memoir. Sleidan positively names Calvin as its author.^[70]

Calvin’s part at Ratisbon it is not difficult to recognize. It was such as Luther’s would have been, had he been present. He firmly believed that the Protestants, and even his dear Melanchthon, under the influence of their desire to reconcile the two parties, were inclined to make too many concessions. This tendency must be resisted. Seeing how the waters were rushing along and threatening to carry every thing before them, he felt it his duty to stand in their way like a rock to arrest the disaster. ‘Believe me,’ he wrote from Ratisbon to Farel, May 11, 38‘in actions of this kind brave souls are wanted who may strengthen others.^[71] Pray then all of you with earnestness to the Lord that he may fortify us with his spirit of boldness.’ The next day he wrote to him, ‘So far as I can understand, if we are willing to be satisfied with a half-Christ, we shall easily be able to come to an agreement.’^[72] Did Calvin, allured by the position which he felt bound to take, go too far? The footing was slippery. He did perhaps go too far in words, but not in deeds.

The legate Contarini had declared to the emperor that, as the Protestants deviate in various articles from the common consent of the Catholic Church, it would be better, all things considered, to refer the whole matter to the pope and to the next council. ‘What can be hoped for from such a gathering?’ said Calvin. ‘There will not be one in a hundred willing and able to understand what is for the glory of God and for the good of the Church. It is notorious what sort of theology is held at Rome, principally in the consistory. Its first principle is that there is no God; its second, that Christianity is nothing but foolishness.’^[73] Calvin does not mean that this is the doctrine which Rome professes, but only that the papacy behaves as if it were so. Having neither the true God nor true Christianity, it is in the Reformer’s sight without God and without faith. He continues—‘Suppose, then, that we have a council, the pope will be its president, the bishops and prelates will be judges in it.... They will come to it in the most deliberate manner to gainsay and to resist every thing which would infringe on their 39avarice and ambition, and on that tyrannical supremacy in the exercise of which they have no greater enemy than Jesus Christ. When the council is held, it will contribute rather to destroy than to put things again into a right state.’

Contarini had recommended to the bishops various reforms; such as to be watchful over their dioceses lest the religion of the Protestants should propagate itself in them; and to establish schools in order that people might not send their children to those of the Evangelicals. ‘He had indeed many other evils to deal with,’ said Calvin, ‘if he had a wish to give good medicine. The world is full of the worship of idols, in the shape of relics and images, to such an extent that there could hardly be more of it among the pagans. Every one makes gods for himself after his fancy (à sa poste), out of saints, male and female. The virtue of Christ is as good as buried, and his honor virtually annihilated. The light of truth is almost extinct; hardly any sparks of it remain.’^[74]

However decided Calvin was with respect to the errors of Rome, he was, nevertheless, far from being a narrow-minded and passionate man; and he did not hesitate to acknowledge whatever good there was in his opponents. We have already seen that he looked upon the archbishops of Cologne, of Mentz, and of Treves as friends of liberty, of peace, and even of a reform. At Ratisbon he also bore favorable testimony to Charles V. ‘It is no fault of the emperor,’ said he, ‘that some good beginning of agreement was not arrived at, without waiting for the pope, or the cardinals, or any of their following.’^[75] His estimate of the electors was still more favorable. ‘The electors,’ says he, ‘at least most of them, were of opinion that in order to bring about a union of the churches, the articles which had been passed should be received; and this would have been a very good beginning of provision for the Church. The world would 40have learnt that it ought not to trust in its strength and its free-will; and that it is through the free grace of our Lord that we are enabled to act well. The righteousness which we receive as a free gift from Christ would have been set forth, in order to overthrow our pernicious confidence in our own works. It would have been better known that the Church cannot be separated from the word of God. The shameful and dishonest traffic in masses would have been suppressed; the tyranny of the ministers of the Church would have been restrained, and superstitions would have been corrected.’^[76] These were, in fact, the great points conceded by the legate of Rome, Contarini; and Calvin, undoubtedly, was no stranger to that conquest.

He complained most of all of the princes of the second order, ‘who had for their captains,’ he adds, ‘two dukes of Bavaria, who were reported to be pensioners of the pope to maintain the relics of holy Mother Church in Germany, and thus to bring about the ruin of the country. For to leave things as they are, what is it but to abandon Germany as in desperate case? They want the pope to be the physician, to put things in order; and thus they thrust the lamb into the wolf’s jaws that he may take care of it.’ Every thing was, in fact, referred to a general council. ‘It seems like a dream,’ says Calvin, ‘that the emperor and so many princes, ambassadors, and counsellors should have spent five whole months in consulting, considering, parleying, giving opinions, debating and resolving to do at last just nothing at all.’

Calvin, however, did not lose courage. ‘At present,’ he adds, ‘seeing that this diet of Ratisbon has all ended in smoke, many persons are disconcerted, fret themselves and despair of the Gospel ever being received by public authority. But more good has resulted from this assembly than appears. The servants of God have borne faithful 41testimony to the truth, and there are always a few who are open to conviction. It is no slight matter that all the princes, nay, even some of the bishops, are convinced in their hearts that the doctrine preached under the Pope must be amended.

‘But our chief consolation is that this is the cause of God and that he will take it in hand to bring it to a happy issue. Even though all the princes of the earth were to unite for the maintenance of our Gospel, still we must not make that the foundation of our hope. So, likewise, whatever resistance we see to-day offered by almost all the world to the progress of the truth, we must not doubt that our Lord will come at last to break through all the undertakings of men and make a passage for his word. Let us hope boldly, then, more than we can understand; he will still surpass our opinion and our hope.’^[77]

Such was the faith that animated Luther and Calvin, and this was the cause of their triumph.

As soon as Calvin saw that there was nothing more for him to do at Ratisbon, he ardently desired to leave the town, and with much earnestness begged permission to depart. Bucer and Melanchthon stoutly opposed it; but they yielded at last. He extorted his discharge, he says, rather than obtained it. On the arrival of deputies from Austria and Hungary, to demand aid against the Turks, the emperor commanded the adjournment of the religious debates, for the purpose of considering the means of resisting Solyman, who had already entered Hungary. ‘I would not let slip the opportunity,’ says Calvin, ‘and so I got off.’^[78]

Having turned his back on the diet, Calvin thought of nothing but Geneva. ‘The diet ended as I had predicted,’ he had written; ‘the whole scheme of pacification went out in smoke. As soon as Bucer returns we shall betake ourselves with all speed to Geneva, or, indeed, I shall set out alone without further delay.’ Bucer, in fact, was to accompany Calvin and to assist him with his counsel to see whether it would be right for him to remain in that town. But when he returned to Strasburg he was detained there and also detained his friend. ‘I have regretted a thousand times,’ says the latter, ‘that I did not set out for Basel immediately after my return from Ratisbon.’^[79] In that Swiss town he was to obtain more particular information about the state of affairs on the shores of the Leman, and especially about the suit between Berne and Geneva, concerning the ‘Articulants’; a suit in which Basel had been appointed arbitrator. At Strasburg it was thought that Calvin ought not to settle in that disturbed town so long as this cause of trouble continued to exist.

If Calvin was evidently more decided than he had hitherto been, the cause was not only what was taking place in Germany, but also what was passing at Geneva. To put the matter into legal shape, to set in broad daylight the feelings of respect for the reformer which now animated the people, and thus to deprive Calvin of every pretext for declining the call which was sent to him, the 43general Council had been assembled on May 1, and ‘had revoked the edict of expulsion of the ministers passed in 1538, and declared that they esteemed them servants of God, so that for the future Farel and Calvin, Saunier and the others might go in and out at Geneva at their pleasure.’^[80]

This measure of the people of Geneva was a large one, but the Council did not stop there. Fearing, with good reason, that Strasburg would wish to keep to herself the great man whom Geneva had banished, they addressed two distinct letters to the ministers and the magistrates of Zurich and Basel, begging them to support their request at Strasburg. They wrote also to the Council and the ministers of the latter town. As these letters are important and very little known, it may be proper to give some passages from them.

‘You are not ignorant,’ said the Genevese syndics and senate in their letter to the pastors, ‘that our ministers have been unjustly driven from our town, not in the regular course of justice, but rather as the result of much injustice, tumult, and conspiracy; and you know the troubles and horrible scandals in which we have been thereby plunged.^[81] For an evil so dangerous there is no remedy but the presence of able, prudent, and God-fearing pastors, qualified to repair this disaster. We, therefore, have recourse to you who have given us abundant evidence of your tender solicitude for our Church, endeavoring to persuade our magistrate to reinstate in the ministry our faithful ministers Farel, Calvin, and Courault. This could not be effected at the time because of the harshness and obstinacy of the perpetrators of the 44disturbances; and thus a great multitude of just and pious men were plunged in distress and tears.^[82] But now our most merciful Father having visited us in his goodness, we beg you to use your endeavors to restore to us our faithful pastors, who were rejected by men that were seeking the gratification of their own evil desires rather than the will of God.’^[83] In such terms did the syndics and the Council of Geneva request the ministers of the towns to which they applied to aid them in recovering their pastors.

The letter of the syndics and the Council of Geneva to the Councils of Zurich and Basel was no less emphatic. They said to them ‘that although for twenty years their town had been kept in agitation by violent storms, it has known no tumults, no seditions, no dangers, to compare with those with which the anger of God has visited us, since by the craft and contrivances of factious and seditious men,^[84] the faithful pastors, by whom their church had been founded and maintained, to the great edification and consolation of all, have been unjustly driven away by the blackest ingratitude—the benefits, assuredly no ordinary ones, which the Lord had conferred by their ministry, being entirely forgotten.’ The Genevese added ‘that from the hour of that exile Geneva had known nothing but troubles, enmities, strifes, contentions, breaking up of social bonds, seditions, factions and homicides.^[85] The city would, consequently, have been almost wholly destroyed, if the Lord in his great compassion had not looked upon it with love and sent Viret to gather together the wretched flock, which was at that time reduced to such a pitch of 45confusion that it was scarcely, if at all, possible to recognize in it any of the features of a church: and that there was nothing which the Genevese desired more ardently or with more unanimity than to see their ministers restored to the former position in which God had placed them. And, therefore,’ they continued, ‘we pray you in the name of Christ, most honorable lords, to entreat the illustrious senators of Strasburg not only to give back to us our brother Calvin, of whom we have the most urgent need, and who is so eagerly looked for by our people, but further persuade him to come to Geneva as soon as possible. Learned and pious pastors, such as he is, are most necessary for us, because Geneva is, as it were, the gate of France and Italy;^[86] because day by day many people resort to it from these lands and from other neighboring countries; and because it will be a great consolation and edification to them to find in our town pastors competent to meet their wants.’

A letter of like character was sent to Strasburg. All the letters were subscribed, ‘The Syndics and the Senate of the city of Geneva’ (Syndici et Senatus Genevensis civitatis).

Men’s minds were at that time in a state of great agitation. Hostile opinions were not expressed in mawkish phraseology; and the Council, as it was bent on having Calvin at any cost, conveyed its meaning unmistakably. There might be, perhaps, some rudeness of expression; the writing was forcible rather than refined; but we certainly possess in these letters the views of the Genevese magistrates and people, especially of the best among them, respecting Calvin, the authors of his banishment, and the condition of Geneva after his departure. The latitudinarian and often unbelieving spirit of our days would fain reconstruct this history after the fashion of the nineteenth century; but in these documents we have assuredly the 46impress of the olden time. The chief magistrates of the republic could not possibly have expressed themselves as they did if their statement of facts could have been contradicted by the people, their contemporaries, as they have been several centuries afterwards. The syndics who signed these letters were not upstarts raised to office by a party. They had long been in the Council, and all of them had previously been syndics, one in 1540, two of the others in 1537, and one of these two as early as 1534, and the fourth in 1535.^[87] It is not to be doubted that the view taken at this epoch by the chiefs of the Genevese nation will be likewise the view of impartial and enlightened men of every age. It has been said that the faction which expelled Calvin does not deserve the grave reproaches which have been cast upon it by modern historians. The syndics and councils of 1541 can hardly be placed in the ranks of modern historians.

These letters were everywhere well received. The pastors of Zurich wrote word to the Council of Geneva that their Council, eager to give them pleasure, had written to the Council and the ministers of Strasburg, and likewise to Calvin at Ratisbon, begging the former to press Calvin, and requesting the latter to comply with the call from Geneva.^[88]

This testimony, borne by the leading men in the State and in the Church at Zurich, Basel, and Strasburg, after they had received the letters of which we have just given some account, is a confirmation of their contents, and shows that the view set forth in them was the opinion of European Protestantism, ever ready to do homage to the greatest theologian, who was, at the same time, one of the greatest men and greatest writers of the age.

Calvin had already said more than once that he would 47return to Geneva, but he had not yet fulfilled his intention. Even the powerful voice of Farel had not succeeded in getting him to set out, but it had called forth a touching expression of his humility. ‘Certainly,’ said he to Farel, ‘the thunders and lightnings which thou didst hurl so wonderfully at me have disturbed and terrified me. Thou knowest that I extremely dread this call, but I do not fly from it. Why then fall upon me with so much violence as almost to abjure thy friendship? Thou tellest me that my last letter deprived thee of all hope. If it be so, forgive, I pray thee, my imprudence. My purpose was simply to apologize for not going immediately. I hope that thou wilt forgive me.’^[89] It is beautiful to see this great man, this strong character, humbling himself with so much simplicity before Farel, as a child would do before a father. Doubtless, like Paul on the road to Damascus, he had at first kicked against the pricks. But, ‘oxen,’ says he, ‘gain nothing by so doing, except the increase of their own suffering; and just in the same way when men fight and kick against Christ, they must—whether they will or not—submit to his commandment.’^[90]

When speaking to Farel of his struggles, Calvin had from the first also indicated the source of his strength and his victory. ‘I should be at no loss for pretexts,’ he said, ‘which I might adroitly put forward, and which would easily serve for excuses before men. But I know that it is God with whom I have to do, and that artifices of that sort are not right in his sight. Wouldst thou know my very thought, it is this—Were I free to choose, I would do any thing in the world rather than what thou requirest of me. But, when I remember that I am not in this matter my own master, I present my heart as a 48sacrifice and offer it up to the Lord.^[91] Having bound and chained my soul, I bring it under the obedience of God.‘^[92]

This is Calvin. The words which we have underlined are essential as the explanation not only of the resolution which he took at this time, but also of his whole life. They may be considered as his motto.^[93]

Calvin set out from Strasburg at the end of August or beginning of September. He went on his way to Geneva, he says, ‘with sadness, tears, great anxiety and distress of mind. My timidity offered me many reasons to excuse me from taking upon my shoulders so heavy a burden; and many excellent persons would have been pleased to see me quit of this trouble. But the sense of duty prevailed and led me to comply and return to the flock from which I had been snatched away, but in whose salvation I felt so deep a concern that I should have had no hesitation in laying down my life for it.’^[94] Bucer had been unable to accompany him; but the Strasburgers understood well what they were losing. They had declared ‘that they would always consider him as one of their citizens,’ says one of his biographers. ‘They also wished him to retain the income of a prebend, which they had assigned him as the salary of his professorship of theology; but as he was a man utterly free from the greed of worldly good, he would not so much as keep the value of a denier.’ Further, the magistrates of this town gave him a letter for the Council of Geneva, in which they said that it was with regret they let him go, ‘seeing that at Strasburg he could better promote the interests of the church universal, by his writings, his counsel, and other proceedings, according to the surpassing graces 49with which the Lord has endowed him; and that they prayed the citizens of Geneva to be united and to give ear to him as a man earnestly devoted to the enlargement of the kingdom of Christ.’ They added that ‘if they set the general need of the churches above their own advantage and profit, they would send him back forthwith, in order that in Germany he might more effectively serve the church universal.’ The Strasburg pastors, who had previously written to the Council, speaking of Calvin, said—‘Christ himself is despised and insulted when such ministers are rejected and unworthily treated. But to this hour all is well with you, since you recognize Jesus Christ in this man, his illustrious instrument, who has never had any other thought than to devote himself to your salvation, even at the cost of his own blood.’ They added, on the present occasion—‘He is at last coming to you, this instrument of God, this incomparable man, the like of whom this age can hardly name.’^[95]

Calvin halted at Basel, visited his friends, and appeared before the Council, who commended him affectionately to Geneva (September 4). Thence he passed on to Soleure; and in this town he heard tidings which greatly grieved him. He was told that troubles had arisen in the church of Neuchâtel. Farel had privately remonstrated, in terms earnest but charitable, with a person of rank who was causing scandal in the church, and his remonstrance producing no effect, he censured him publicly in his sermon, in conformity with the apostolic precept, i. Tim. v. 20 (July 31). The kinsfolk of this person were much annoyed, and stirring up the townsmen against the reformer got him deprived and banished. When Calvin, who had such a warm affection for Farel, heard these things, he could not pursue his journey. Instead of going on to Berne, he hastened to Neuchâtel to his friend. He was able to console him, but he could not get his condemnation withdrawn.^[96] 50Only at a later period, Calvin, acting in concert with other pastors, wrote from Geneva a letter which was carried by Viret. The latter having represented to the seignory of Neuchâtel that when a minister is to be deposed, it is necessary to proceed by form of trial, likewise spiritual, and not by way of sedition or tumult; and his representation being supported by Zurich, Strasburg, Basel, and Berne, the Council of Neuchâtel resolved to keep its reformer. While at Neuchâtel with Farel, on the evening of September 7, Calvin wrote to the Council of Geneva stating the cause of his delay. He also reminded them in this note of the duty of governing their town well and holily. The next day he went to Berne, delivered to the Council the letters which he had brought from Strasburg and from Basel, and then set out for Geneva.

For many days past preparations had been making in the town for his reception. ‘On Monday, August 26, thirty-six écus were voted by the Council to Eustace Vincent, equestrian herald, to go for Master Calvin, the preacher, at Strasburg.’ It was announced in the Council, August 29, that Master Calvin was to arrive one of these days. They talked of the lodgings which must be assigned to him, and propositions rapidly succeeded each another. At first they thought of the house which was occupied by the pastor Bernard, whom they would remove to the house of la Chantrerie. Then, September 4, there was further discussion. ‘La Chantrerie, being opposite to St. Peter’s church, is most suitable,’ they said, ‘for the abode of Master Calvin, and some garden (curtil) will be provided for him.’ On the 9th it was announced in the Council that he was to arrive the same evening. The houses in question being, doubtless, in an unfit state, orders were given to Messieurs Jacques des Arts and Jean 51Chautemps to make ready for him the house of the Sieur de Fréneville, situated in the Rue des Chanoines, between the house of Bonivard, on the west, and that of the Abbé de Bonmont, on the east. But after all it was in another house, the fourth proposed, that he was to be received.^[97]

It does not appear that Calvin had himself announced to the Council the day of his arrival; nor are we acquainted with any document which in a clear and positive manner indicates this date, worthy of remark though it be. All that we know is that on the 13th he was there, and appeared before the Council. Instead of the 9th he may have arrived on the 10th, the 11th, or even the 12th. We may suppose that Calvin wished the Genevese not to know the day of his arrival, fearing lest they should give him a rather noisy reception. I have no intention of showing myself and making a noise in the world, he said on another occasion.^[98] However this might be, if the arrival of the reformer were unostentatious like himself, it filled many hearts with great joy. This is attested by the contemporary biographies. Congratulations were uttered, and this among the whole body of the people, but above all in the Council, on this singular favor of God towards Geneva, a favor so great and so tardily acknowledged.^[99] ‘He was received,’ says the French biography, ‘with such singular affection, by this poor people, who acknowledged their fault, and were famishing to hear their faithful pastor, that they were not satisfied till he was settled there for good.’^[100] Such is the testimony of contemporaries, friends of Calvin. Will history add any thing to it? Did Calvin traverse in triumph the districts over which 52three years before he had wandered as a miserable fugitive? Did he make his solemn entry into Geneva, in the midst of the uproarious joy of the population? Did he address the assembled masses?^[101] So far as we know, there is no document that speaks of such things. Nothing would be more contrary to Calvin’s disposition. If he could have foreseen that a ceremonious reception was preparing for him, he would rather have crossed the lake, and made his entry into Geneva by way of Savoy.

It appears that the house of the Sieur de Fréneville, who had quitted Geneva, could not be made ready the same day. The reformer was, therefore, received in the house of Aimé de Gingins, abbot of Bonmont, who, although he had been elected bishop by the chapter, in 1522, had not been accepted by the Pope, but in the absence of the bishop, was discharging almost all his functions. This house had been the scene of one of the most striking passages of the Reformation; the appearance of Farel before Messeigneurs the abbot and the Genevese clergy, in 1532. Of smaller size than that which now occupies its site, it had a garden, from which, as well as from the house itself, were seen stretching far away to the north-east the lake, its shores, the Jura, and rich tracts of country. Calvin was alive to the enjoyment of this smiling landscape, these beautiful waters, these stern mountains. That straight line of the Jura, pure and severe, is it not a type of his work? When, a little while after, he was looking for a house for Jacques de Bourgogne, Seigneur of Falais, who desired to settle near him, he mentioned to him a dwelling situated doubtless near his own, from which he would have, he said, ‘as fine a 53view as you could wish for in the summer.’ In winter the north wind made this exposed situation less pleasant, but the view was still very fine, and the storms which raged on the lake would doubtless sometimes appear in Calvin’s eyes to be in harmony with those which agitated the city. Subsequently, perhaps in 1543 or 1547, certainly before 1549, Calvin quitted this house for the adjoining one, that of M. de Fréneville, which the State had just bought; and in this he continued to reside, so far as appears, to the end of his life.^[102] One of the chief pleasures of Calvin on his arrival was that of meeting Viret again.

The reformer came back to Geneva an altered man. Three years, four months, and twenty days had elapsed since his departure; and his sojourn in Germany had exercised a marked influence on him. Strasburg had given him what Geneva could not offer. He had in him by nature the stuff of which great men are made. But during these three years his ideas had been widened, and his character had been completed. He had entered into a wider sphere. Intellectual life at Geneva was almost exclusively Genevese; at Strasburg it was Germanic, and, at least in the case of a few, European. It was important that the reformer of the Latin race should be thoroughly acquainted with the reformers of the Germanic race, and that there should be between them some spiritual fellowship. Even if there must be independence with respect to their work, there ought at the same time to be unity. There was no town in Europe better fitted than Strasburg to furnish a thorough knowledge of the reformation of Luther and of that of Zwinglius. The doctors of this city, it is well known, held constant intercourse 54with Wittenberg and Zurich, and endeavored to bring about a union between them. Calvin, in this town, ran no risk of getting Germanized. His was one of those powerful natures which do not lose their native impress. Moreover, French refugees were numerous there, and amongst these he found his first sphere of labor. All the faculties of the Genevese reformer had gained something by this contact with Germany. His general information had been enlarged, his knowledge had become deeper and richer, his soul had attained more serenity, his heart was more kindly and tender, his will at once more regulated, stronger, and more steadfast. He knew that the future had battles in store for him; they would find him more gentle, more apt for endurance, but at the same time resolved to remain immovable on the rock of the Word, and to conquer by the truth. Strong by nature, he was now more completely invested with that divine panoply of which St. Paul speaks.^[103] He was fitted not only to feed a little flock, but to form a new society, to organize and to govern a great church. He was returning to Geneva simple and humble as before, and nevertheless a superior man.

Calvin having arrived from Strasburg on September 13, went to the Town Hall, and was received by the syndics and Council. Some hearts had, no doubt, been beating high in anticipation of this interview; and the reformer himself did not set out to it without emotion. When he came to Geneva, in 1534, he was twenty-seven years of age, rather young for a reformer. He was now thirty-two, the age of our Saviour at the time of his ministry. He could already speak with authority; nevertheless, it might be said of him as of St. Paul—his bodily presence is weak. He was of middle stature, pale, with a dark complexion, a keen and piercing eye, betokening, says Beza, a penetrating mind. His dress was very simple, and at the same time perfectly neat. There was 55something noble in his whole appearance. His cultivated and elevated spirit was at once recognizable; and although his health was already feeble, he was about to devote himself to labors which a man of great strength might have shrunk from undertaking. Amiable in social intercourse, he had won all hearts in Germany; he was now to win many at Geneva.^[104]

On presenting himself before the Council, Calvin delivered to the syndics the letters from the senators and pastors of Strasburg and Basel. He then modestly apologized for the long delay which he had made. He had intended to vindicate his own conduct and that of his colleagues who were banished with him three years and a half before; but the very warm reception given him in the town, and by the magistrates, showed him that Geneva had quite got over the prejudices of that period. A vindication would have involved recalling to mind painful facts and ungracious sentiments; and this was not the business which he had to do at this moment. His Christian heart, his intelligent mind, joined to counsel him otherwise—to forget. He therefore did not vindicate himself either before the Senate or before the people.

He felt the need of going forward and not backward. ‘We must not take our eyes from the brow and fix them in the back,’ he said one day. ‘I go straight to the mark.’ ‘As for myself,’ said he at this memorable sitting of September 13, ‘I offer myself to be a servant of Geneva forever.’ He meant really and truly to serve, but in the truest and most beautiful sense of the word. To Farel he wrote (September 16)—‘Immediately after offering my services to the Senate, I declared that no church could subsist except by establishing a well-constituted government, such as the Word of God prescribes, and such as was adopted in the early church.’^[105] He next 56touched delicately on some points in order to make it clear to the Council what he desired. ‘However,’ he continued, ‘this question is too extensive for discussion on this occasion. I request you to nominate some of your body to confer with us upon this subject.’ The Council named for that purpose four members of the Little Council, the former syndic, Claude Pertemps; the former secretary, Claude Roset; Ami Perrin, and Jean Lambert; and two members of the Great Council, Jean Goulaz and Ami Porral, both ex-syndics.^[106] These six laymen, in co-operation with Calvin and Viret, were to draw up articles of a constitution for the church. The other three pastors appeared willing to go with their two colleagues. We do not see, however, that the Council offered to its conqueror its homage with almost grovelling submissiveness.^[107] There was agreement, there was respect on the part of the Council, but there was no humiliation; and we cannot admit that Calvin considered his right of lordship over Geneva as an article of faith which God himself had proclaimed.^[108] At this sitting he called himself servant, and not lord; and the only reservation which has to be made is that he would always consider himself before all a servant of God. The Council afterwards resolved to return thanks to Strasburg for having sent Calvin, and at the same time to request that he might be allowed to settle permanently at Geneva. Calvin himself no longer hesitated; and this appeared in the courage with which he set about the organization of the church. Geneva and Calvin were henceforth inseparable, as much so as the city and the river which flows by and waters it. The council likewise adopted certain resolutions respecting 57the person and the family of the reformer. It gave orders (September 16) to send for his wife and his household, and for this purpose bought three horses and a car. Next, his salary was fixed, and ‘considering,’ said the Council (October 4), ‘that Calvin is a man of great learning, a friend to the restoration of Christian churches, and is at great expense in entertaining visitors, it is resolved that he shall receive an annual salary of five hundred florins, twelve measures of wheat, and two bossots of wine.’^[109] On the same day it was ordered that some cloth should be bought, with furs, to make him a gown.^[110]

And now the work must be begun. Calvin saw the difficulties of the task. He did not put his trust in himself; he hoped above all for the help of God; but he desired also the co-operation of his brethren. Three days after his appearance before the Council he wrote to Farel: ‘I am settled here as you wished. The Lord grant that it may turn out well! For the present I must keep Viret. I will not on any account permit him to be taken from me.’ He wished also to have Farel with him. He thought that the presence of these two as his colleagues was essential to success, and he spared no effort to secure them.^[111] ‘Aid me here,’ he said to Farel, ‘you and all the brethren with all your might, unless you mean to have me tortured for nothing.’ But, whatever distrust he felt of himself, he had no doubt of the victory. ‘When we have to contend against Satan,’ he continues, ‘and when we join battle under the banner of Christ, he who has invested us with 58our armor and impelled us to the fight will give us the victory.’^[112]

But although he attributed the victory to God he knew that he himself must fight. This observation applies to his whole life. Of all men in the world Calvin is the one who most worked, wrote, acted, and prayed for the cause which he had embraced. The co-existence of the sovereignty of God and the freedom of man is assuredly a mystery; but Calvin never supposed that because God did all he personally had nothing to do. He points out clearly the twofold action, that of God and that of man. ‘God,’ said he, ‘after freely bestowing his grace on us, forthwith demands of us a reciprocal acknowledgment. When he said to Abraham, “I am thy God,” it was an offer of his free goodness; but he adds at the same time what he required of him: “Walk before me, and be thou perfect.” This condition is tacitly annexed to all the promises: they are to be to us as spurs, inciting us to promote the glory of God.’ And elsewhere he says: ‘This doctrine ought to create new vigor in all your members, so that you may be fit and alert, with might and main, to follow the call of God.’^[113] Never, perhaps, did Calvin exhibit his great capacity for action more remarkably than at the epoch of which we are treating. It is certainly a mistake to assert that ‘Calvin regarded himself, by virtue of the Divine decree, as little more than an instrument in the hand of God, without any personal co-operation.’^[114] What! could Calvin, who far more than Pascal was the conqueror of the Jesuits, have said as they did: Sicut baculus in manu! This Calvin is the man of Roman or infidel tradition, but not the man as he appears in history.

59After requiring that evangelical order should be established in the church, Calvin’s first act was to call the people to humiliation and prayer. The evils which then desolated Christendom were afflicting to him. The pestilence, after striking the reformer in his affections at Strasburg, was raging cruelly in many countries, and was threatening Geneva. In addition to this, Solyman was overrunning Hungary. But in this act of humiliation Calvin had another object in view. A new life must begin for Geneva, and how was it to be prepared except by repentance and prayer? There was need of a change of inclination, and this could only be effected by the voice of conscience making itself heard, and opposing with its authority the moral evil existing in each individual. Then a real sense of the need of redemption would awaken in men’s hearts, and they would lay hold of the Gospel which the Reformation brought them. Calvin, therefore, set forth in the council: ‘That the Christian churches are grievously troubled, both by the plague and by the persecution of the Turks; that we are bound to pray for each other; that it would be well to return to God with humble supplications for the increase and the honor of his holy Gospel.’ Consequently, ‘in the same month of October, one day in the week was appointed for solemn prayer in the church for all the necessities of men, and for turning away the wrath of God.’^[115] Wednesday was the day definitely fixed. When the day came, therefore, all shops were closed, the great bell called the people together, the churches were crowded, the ministers implored the mercy of the Lord, and Calvin’s discourse was grave, and full not only of force but of charity. ‘With the truth,’ he said, ‘we must join love, to the end that all may be benefited, and be at peace with one another.’^[116]

As soon as Calvin arrived at Geneva his active exertions were called for in several directions. But his great business was the composition of the Ordinances, and taking part in the deliberations of the commission appointed for the purpose by the Council. ‘Calvin,’ says one of his biographers, ‘drew up a scheme of church order and discipline.’ Although he was in reality its author, it is nevertheless probable that others, and particularly Viret, had a hand in it. Many difficulties, many different opinions must have appeared in the course of the discussions; but Calvin was determined to show much forbearance and consideration for his colleagues. ‘I will endeavor,’ he said, ‘to maintain a good understanding and harmony with all with whom I have to act, and brotherly kindness, too, if they will allow me, combining with it as much fidelity and diligence as I possibly can. So far as it depends on me, I will give no ground of offence to any one.’^[117] Such was the spirit in which Calvin entered on the work. In the same strain he wrote to Bucer; ‘If in any way I do not answer to your expectation, you know that I am in your power and subject to your authority. Admonish me, chastise me, exercise towards me all the authority of a father over his son.’^[118] It appears, however, that Calvin encountered no opposition on the part of the members of the commission. The six laymen who had been associated with him were more or less in the number of his adherents. Objections were to come from 61other quarters. After about fourteen days, says Calvin, our task was finished, and the plan was presented by the commissioners to the Little Council.^[119] It had been determined (September 16) that the articles should be submitted to examination by the Little Council, the Council of the Two Hundred, and the General Council. On September 28 the Council began to apply itself to the document laid before it. If the commission began its work the day after it had been instituted, the fourteen days of which Calvin speaks extend to September 28. It appears that the syndics, informed beforehand of the presentation of the project, had caused the members of the Council to be called together for that day, in order to consult about the ‘Ordinances concerning religion.’ But the Council was not complete. ‘Many of the lords councillors had not obeyed the summons to appear.’ Are we to suppose that they would have preferred not to meddle with this business? This was, probably, the reason in some cases, but there may have been other reasons. Whatever the fact may be, it was resolved that the absentees ‘should be again summoned for the next day,’ and that remonstrances should be addressed to those who had not appeared.’^[120]

On the 29th of September, then, the Council began to read the articles of the ‘Ordinances on Church Government,’ and they continued their work on the following days. Many of them were accepted, others were rejected. This task of examination in the Council was rather a long one. ‘We have not yet received any answer,’ wrote Calvin to Bucer, on October 15, seventeen days after the document had been presented. Some people were much astonished at these prolix discussions; but Calvin said, 62‘I am not greatly disquieted by the delay.’ He thought it natural that some of the councillors should object to his propositions. ‘Meanwhile,’ said he, ‘we are confident that what we ask will be granted.’ Nevertheless, anxious that the members of the Council should obtain information from others rather than from himself on the points which seemed to make them hesitate, the reformer suggested a plan which appeared to him advisable, namely, that the Council should previously enter into communication on this subject with the churches of German Switzerland, and should not come to any decision without ascertaining their opinion. He was sure of their support. ‘We earnestly desire that this should be done,’ he added.^[121]

At length the Council communicated its remarks. The commission, and in this Calvin was predominant, did not yield on any essential article. It did make, however, some concessions, for example, as to the frequency of the Lord’s Supper. Calvin had asked that it should be celebrated once a month. It is known that he personally would have liked a still more frequent celebration. The Council insisted on its continuing to be observed only four times a year; and Calvin yielded. He altered and softened some expressions. He thought this course legitimate by reason of the weakness of the time. On the 25th of October, the preachers, probably Calvin and Viret, brought to the Council the amended Articles, and at the same time addressed to them ‘becoming admonitions praying them to settle and pass them.’ The matter was adjourned to the next day; and the ordinary Council was convoked for that day under the penalty stated in the oath of a councillor (sous la peine du serment). On October 27, they were still busied with the Ordinances; and this ecclesiastical constitution was finally established ‘as it was contained in writing in the articles.’ On November 9, the scheme was presented by the ordinary Council to the Council of the Two Hundred; and the latter 63adopted it after making one or two unimportant amendments. On November 20, it was read to the General Council, in which it passed ‘by a very large majority.’ Consent, however, was not so unanimous as to show that there were no longer any opponents of these ordinances. According to Theodore Beza, there were some among the people and also among the leading citizens, who, while they had indeed renounced the Pope, had only in outward appearance attached themselves to Jesus Christ. There were, likewise, some ministers who did not venture openly to reject the ordinances, but who were secretly opposed to them. Calvin, by perseverance and moderation, overcame these difficulties. He showed that not only the doctrine but also the administration of the church ought to be in conformity with the holy Scriptures. He supported his view by the opinion of the most learned men of the age—of Œcolampadius, Zwinglius, Zwickius, Melanchthon, Bucer, Capito, and Myconius, whose writings he quoted; but, in a conciliatory spirit, he added that churches which were not so advanced must not be condemned as if they were not Christian. The articles, after the insertion of some trifling amendments and additions, were definitively accepted (January 2, 1542) by the Three Councils.^[122]

What, then, were the spirit, the aim, and the constitution of the church demanded by Calvin?

The Kingdom of God is the essence of the church. Jesus Christ came to establish it by communicating to fallen men a divine life. The Reformers had this in mind when, in January, 1537, they had presented to the Council the first articles concerning the organization of the church, ‘because it had pleased the Lord the better to establish his kingdom here.’ But this kingdom can be established 64only by means of the church or the assembly of believers. It is, therefore, important that this church should be organized in conformity with holy Scripture; and this is Calvin’s practical point of view in the new Ordinances. They begin with the following words:

‘We, Syndics, Little and Great Councils, with our people assembled at the sound of the trumpet and of the great bell, according to our ancient customs,

‘Having considered that it is a matter worthy above all others of recommendation that the doctrine of the holy Gospel of our Lord should be indeed preserved in its purity, that the Christian church should be duly maintained, that the young should for the future be faithfully instructed, and that the hospital should be kept in good condition for the support of the poor, it has seemed good to us that the spiritual government, as our Lord institutes it by his Word, should be reduced into proper form to be kept among us; and thus we have ordained and established for observance in our own town and territory the ecclesiastical policy set forth below, seeing that it is taken from the Gospel of Jesus Christ.’^[123]

Thus Calvin wished to establish the church of Geneva after the model of the primitive church. More than that, it was in the word itself, in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that he would seek its nature, its rules, and its character. Here is no question of tradition, not even of the most ancient. This is the characteristic feature of the church as Calvin wished to establish it.

In pagan antiquity legislators had made it their foremost aim to train their peoples for war by exercises adapted to develop their strength and their dexterity. Moses, at the same time that he set forth a living God, 65the Creator, and his holy will, had been obliged, in order to keep the people from evil, and to represent in figures things to come, to bind them up in a network of numerous ceremonies. The Popes of modern Rome, putting at the head of their system their own infallible and absolute sovereignty, checked the development of the peoples; while by their indulgences and their absolutions, they loosened the bonds of duty, and struck a blow at morals. Calvin, who knew that sin is the ruin of nations, desired for Geneva the conditions which are essential to the real prosperity of a people, namely, that it should be good, pure, and sound in body and in mind. His purpose was larger still. He wished to make of the city which received him that which it in fact became—a fortress, capable not only of offering resistance to Rome, but, in addition, of winning the victory over her, and of substituting for her superstitions and her despotism truth and freedom. Nothing less than the salvation of modern Christendom was to be the result of his efforts. In order to make of Geneva a Villafranca, as at a later period it was sometimes named, it was not enough that he should deliver discourses, as had frequently been demanded of him; it was necessary to watch over this seed of the Word when cast into men’s hearts to the end that it might flourish there. The ruin of Rome had been her separation of morals from faith. Had not the world seen a Pope, John XXIII., when charged ‘with all the mortal sins, infinite in number, and likewise abominable,’^[124] make answer ‘that he had indeed, as a man, committed some of these sins, but that it was not possible to condemn a Pope except for heresy’? Immorality had found its way not only into the abodes of the laity, but into convents, presbyteries, bishoprics, and the palace of the Pope. And thenceforward the Papacy was ruined. Calvin longed for Christianity in its integrity, for its faith and its works. It 66is not enough that a stream of water be near a meadow. It may pass beside it, and leave it dry. There must be conduits and canals by which the water may pass, spread over, and fertilize the lands. Calvin thought that he was bound to do something of this sort for the establishment of the church which he had at heart.

The earnestness with which he insisted on the necessity of a truly Christian life is, perhaps, the distinguishing characteristic of Calvin among all the Reformers. ‘There ought to be perceptible in our life,’ said he, a ‘melody and harmony between the justice of God and our own condition, and the image of Christ ought to appear in our obedience. If God adopt us for his children, it is to this life.’^[125] In the Ordinances he did not stop to demonstrate this doctrine; it was not the place to do so. He kept to the practical side. ‘With regard to what belongs to the Christian life,’ said he, ‘the faults which are in it must be corrected.’ And, contrary to the common opinion, he adds with regard to the remonstrances to be made, ‘Nevertheless, let all this be carried out with such moderation, that there may be no severity to burden any one; and also let correction be only mild (médiocre), to bring back sinners to our Lord.’

Calvin especially sets himself to establish what the ministry in the church ought to be; and in doing this he shows not only what the ministers, but also what the members of the Church ought to be: for St. Paul says to the faithful, Be ye imitators of me, as I also am of Christ. ‘There are,’ says Calvin, ‘four orders of offices which our Lord has instituted for the government of his Church: Firstly, pastors; next, teachers; after them, elders; and, fourthly, deacons.’^[126] He names pastors before teachers; faith first, according to the Scriptures, and afterwards knowledge.

Speaking first of pastors, Calvin insists on the importance 67of doctrine, or of faith in Christ, since so long as we have not this, ‘we are,’ said he, ‘only dry and useless wood; but all those who have a living root in Christ are, on the contrary, fruitful vines.’ ‘The first thing,’ say the Ordinances, ‘is touching doctrine. It will be right for the ministers to declare that they hold the doctrine approved in the church; and it will be necessary to hear them treat particularly the doctrine of the Lord.’^[127] But he takes great pains to show that he means a living doctrine, and not a dry, scholastic dogma. ‘It must be such as the minister may communicate to the people to edification.’^[128] And, as he elsewhere says, ‘since there is no truth if it is not shown by its fruits,’ he desires that the minister should teach by his life, ‘being a man of good moral character, and always conducting himself blamelessly.’^[129] On this point he insists. He knows that morals are the science of man; and, nevertheless, as was said at a later period, that ‘in the times we live in, the corruption of morals is in the convents, and in the devotional books of monks and nuns....’^[130] He enlarges, therefore, on this topic, and gives a long catalogue of vices which are altogether intolerable in a minister, the model of the flock. ‘Manifest blasphemy,’ he said, ‘and all kinds of bribery, falsehood, perjury, immodesty, thefts, drunkenness, fighting, usury, scandalous games, any crime entailing civil disgrace, and many other sins besides.’ Any minister who commits these crimes ought to be deposed from his office, so that a lesson may thus be given to all Christians. He admits, however, that there are vices the correction of which ought to be attempted by brotherly admonition, such as ‘a manner of dealing with Scripture which is unusual, and gives rise to scandal; curiosity, which prompts idle questioning; negligence in studying the holy books. Buffoonery (scurrilité), lying, evil-speaking (détraction), licentious words, injurious words, rashness, cunning tricks 68(mauvaises cautèles), avarice and excessive niggardliness, unbridled anger, quarrelling, &c.’^[131] Calvin has been frequently censured for his severe morality; but a celebrated French moralist, a member of the Academy, La Bruyère—said, ‘An easy and slack morality falls to the ground with him who preaches it.’ Calvin thought the same.

But he knew that rules and prohibitions would not suffice. He was acquainted with that saying of the wise man of Israel, ‘Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.’^[132] Thus say the Ordinances—‘At noon on Sundays let there be a catechizing, that is to say, instruction of young children in all the three churches. Let all citizens and inhabitants be under obligation to bring or send their children to it. Let a certain formulary be provided as a basis of this instruction; that while doctrine is imparted to them, they may be questioned about what has been said, to see if they have really understood and retained it. When a child is sufficiently instructed to dispense with the catechism, let him solemnly repeat the substance of its contents, and thus make a sort of profession of Christianity in the presence of the church.’^[133] Calvin knew and taught that ‘when little children are presented to the Lord, he receives them humanely and with great gentleness,’ and he added ‘that it would be a too cruel thing to exclude (forclorre) from the grace of God those who are of this age.’ He wishes ‘the elders to have an eye to them, that they may watch over them.’^[134] He thus says in his Ordinances, what a great poet has repeated in his verses:

It is not with children alone that he concerns himself, it is with all the weak. He thinks of the sick. He fear that many neglect to find consolation in God by His word, 69and die without the doctrine which would then be to them more salutary than ever; and he requires that no one should be sick more than three days without sending for a minister. He takes thought for the poor, and will have the deacons receive and dispense ‘as well the daily alms as possessions, annuities, and pensions.’^[136] He does not forget the sick poor, and will have ‘them cared for and their wounds dressed.’ He demands for the town hospital a paid physician and surgeon, who shall also visit the other poor. He thinks also of foreigners. Many came to Geneva to escape persecution. He therefore founds a hospital for wayfarers.^[137] He demands a separate hospital for the plague. But with regard to beggary, he declares it contrary to good police, and wishes that ‘officers should be appointed to remove from the place the beggars who would offer resistance (belistrer); and if they were rude and insolent (qu’ils se rebecquassent)’ he demands that they should be brought before one of the syndics.^[138] With respect to the last class of the unfortunate, prisoners, he wishes that every Saturday afternoon they should be assembled for admonition and exhortation, and that if any of them should be in chains (aux ceps) and it is not thought advisable to remove them, admission should be granted to some minister to console them; for if it is put off till they are to be led out to die, they are often so overcome by terror that they can neither receive nor understand any thing.^[139]

For these functions and for others, great care must be taken in the choice of men for the ‘four orders of offices which the Lord has instituted for the government of his church.’

‘No one is to intrude into the office of a minister without a call.’ We have seen that the examination turns on doctrine and on morals. There is no room for hesitation 70in regard to this: but there was in Calvin’s mind some doubt as to the mode of their election. He had always acknowledged that two orders ought to have a share in it: the pastors and the people. But in the Institution chrétienne, in which he speaks in general terms, he insists that the common freedom and right of the church (du troupeau) shall be in no respect infringed or diminished. He desires that ‘the pastor should preside at the elections, in order to lead the people by good counsel and not for the purpose of cutting out their work for them according to their own views, without regard to others.’ ‘The pastors,’ he adds, ‘ought to preside at the election in order that the multitude may not proceed in a frivolous, fractious, or tumultuous manner.’^[140] Now Calvin in the Ordinances went beyond this rule. He established ‘that the ministers should in the first instance elect the man who was to be appointed to the office; that afterwards he should be presented to the Council; and that if the Council accepted him, he should be finally introduced to the people by preaching, to the end that he might be received by the common consent of the faithful.’^[141] Assuredly the right of the church was hereby curtailed. Calvin might be mistaken in his estimate, and might suppose that the bold Genevese would dare to reject the elect of two authorities, the spiritual and the temporal. It did not turn out so; the consent of the people was an empty ceremony and was ultimately dispensed with. The source of the evil was the circumstance that church and nation were the same body; and that the nation supplied the church with a great number of members who had neither the intelligence nor the piety necessary to the choice of competent and pious ministers. When the church is composed of men who openly profess the great truths of the Gospel and conform their lives thereto, it is possible to trust to the flock, which does not exclude the natural influence 71of pastors. But when the church is a vast medley, when perhaps even the incompetent elements predominate in it, it is necessary to assign a larger share in the election to the ministers. Calvin, however, made it too large, for it annulled that of the members of the church. But election in a church by numbers is always a difficult matter. The Ordinances added ‘that for the purpose of introducing the elected minister, it would be proper to adopt the practice of laying on of hands, as in the time of the apostles; but that considering the superstitions which have prevailed in past ages, the practice shall be disused from regard to the infirmity of the times.’^[142] The laying on of hands was at a later period re-established.

The elected minister was to take, at the hands of the syndics and council, an oath, prepared subsequently, by which he pledged himself ‘to serve God faithfully, setting forth his word purely, with a good conscience making use of his doctrine for the promotion of his glory and for the benefit of the people, without giving way either to hatred or to favor or to any other carnal desire, taking pains that the people may dwell together in peace and unity, and setting an example of obedience to all others.’^[143]

After the order of ministers, Calvin places ‘that of teachers,’ which he calls also ‘the order of schools.’ The reader in theology is to make it his aim ‘that the purity of the Gospel be not corrupted by ignorance or erroneous opinions.’^[144] ‘Sound doctrine,’ said he elsewhere, ‘must be carefully entrusted to the hands of faithful ministers who are competent to teach it;’ and in this way he established, after St. Paul (I Tim. ii. 2), the necessity for schools of theology.

He did not stop here; he pleaded the cause of letters and the sciences. ‘These lessons’ (theological) said he, 72‘cannot profit unless there be in the first place instruction in languages and natural science.’ Then, anxious ‘to raise up seed for the time to come,’ he applies himself to the case of childhood. ‘It will be needful,’ he says, ‘to erect a college for the instruction of children, in order to prepare them as well for the ministry as for the civil government. Consequently, he demands for young people ‘a learned man who shall have under his charge readers (professors) as well in languages as in dialectics, and, in addition, masters to teach young children.’^[145] Calvin, endowed with great clearness of understanding, would have none of ‘those subtilties by means of which men who are greedy of reputation push themselves into notice, and which are puffed out to such a size that they hide the true doctrines of the Gospel, which is simple and makes little show, while this ostentatious pomp is received with applause by the world.’ But while aware of the uselessness and the danger of half knowledge and of ‘those flighty speculations which make the simplicity of the true doctrine contemptible in the eyes of a world almost always attracted by outward display,’ he attached importance to the acquisition of information, and to variety of knowledge on many subjects. Hence, in all lands into which his influence has penetrated, it is found that the people are well taught, and true science held in honor.

After the teachers come the elders, of whom there were to be twelve, that is to say, nearly two elders to each minister. They were to be ‘people of good life and honesty, without reproach and beyond suspicion, above all fearing God and having much spiritual discretion.’ Lastly come the deacons, whose functions we have already pointed out.^[146]

The assembly of the ministers and the elders formed the consistory. The twelve elders were elected, not by the church, but by the Council of State or Little Council. 73They were not taken indiscriminately from among the members of the church. Two were to belong to the Little Council, four to the Council of Sixty, and six to the Council of the Two Hundred. Before proceeding, however, to the election, the Council summoned the ministers to state their views on the subject; and when election had been made, it was presented to the Council of the Two Hundred, for its approval.^[147] These elders appointed or delegated by the Councils were substantially magistrates; but the fact that the ministers were consulted, the influence which the pastors must have over their lay colleagues, and the very nature of their functions made them rather beings of two species, belonging partly to the church and partly to the state. This fact indeed gives peculiar importance to this body. It has frequently been called a tribunal; but it was not such in reality. Exhortation and conciliation played the principal part in its proceedings. It has also been said that matters of doctrine belonged to the ministers, and matters of morality to the elders. This is not the exact truth. The two classes of men who formed the consistory had to do with errors of both kinds. Lastly, this body had been likened to the Inquisition. We cast aside with indignation this assimilation of Genevese presbyterianism to the terrible, secret, and cruel institution which depopulated provinces, which cost Spain alone the loss of five millions of her subjects, which filled her with superstitions and ignorance and lowered her in the scale of nations, while Geneva, under the influence of her pastors, and her elders, increased in intelligence, in morality, in prosperity, in population, in influence, and in greatness.

The pastors took charge of the public worship. The preaching of the Word was to be the essential feature of it. ‘The duty of the pastors,’ say the Ordinances, ‘who are sometimes also named in the Scriptures overseers (episcopos), elders, and ministers, is to announce the Word 74of God for instruction, admonition, exhortation, and reproof.’^[148] The Reformation deprived the priest of his magic, his power to transform by a word a bit of bread and make of it the body and blood of Christ—Jesus Christ in his entire being as God and man. This glory, with which the head of the priest had till this time been encompassed, was now taken from him; the minister was servant of the Word, and this was his glory. The service of the Word became the centre of all the functions of a minister. ‘Every time the Gospel is preached,’ said Calvin, ‘it is as if God himself came in person solemnly to summon us, to the end that we may no longer be like people groping in darkness, and not knowing whither to go.’^[149] The times for preaching were multiplied by Calvin. On Sunday there were sermons at daybreak, again at nine o’clock, and at three o’clock; and six in the course of the week.^[150]

While, however, Calvin most energetically rejected the superstition of the mass, he knew that Christ would have in his church not only the teaching of the truth by the word, but besides this, union with him. To know him was insufficient; it was needful to have him. He insisted on the fact that Christ verily imparted to his disciples not only his doctrine, but in addition to that his life. This is recalled to mind by the sacrament of the Supper, which becomes in truth a means of communion with the Saviour, by quickening faith in his body which is broken for us, in his blood which is shed for remission of sins. We find him also again and again expressing his desire for a frequent communion. He did not obtain this, and doubtless understood that as he had to do with a multitude 75often caring little about this union, it would not do to have the Supper too frequently repeated. But it remained ever true that the Lord, having promised his presence to every assembly gathered in his name,^[151] could not be absent from the feast to which he invited his people, and there gave heavenly food to those who had faith to receive it.

Lastly, Calvin assigned an important place to the public prayers. Those which he composed himself, which appear in his liturgy, are rich not only in doctrine but in spiritual power. He wished also that all the people should take an active part in the worship by the singing of psalms. The whole service was simple but serious, full of dignity and calling the people to worship in spirit and in truth.^[152]

The elders had the function of overseers, which is expressed by the Greek word ἐπίσκοπος. One of these was elected in each quarter of the town, in order to have an eye everywhere.^[153] ‘They used to be accompanied,’ says Bonivard in his Police Ecclésiastique, ‘by the tithing-men (dizeniers) from house to house, asking of all the members of the household a reason for their faith. After that, if they think that there is any evil in the house, general or particular, they admonish to repentance.’ The consistory ‘met once a week, on Thursday morning, to see if there were any disorder in the church and to discuss remedies, when needful.’ Those who taught contrary to the received doctrine and those who showed themselves to be despisers of ecclesiastical order were to be called before it, for the purpose of conference and to be admonished. If they became obedient they were to be dismissed with kindliness; but if they persisted in going from bad to worse, after being thrice admonished, they were to be separated from the church.^[154]

76Private vices were to be privately rebuked; and no one was to bring his neighbor before the church for any offence which was not notorious or scandalous, except after being proved rebellious. With respect to notorious and open vices, the duty of the elders would be to call before them those who are tainted with them, for the purpose of addressing friendly representations to them and, if amendment should appear, to trouble them no further. If they persisted in doing wrong, they were to be admonished a second time. If, after all, this should have no effect, they were to be denounced as despisers of God, and to be kept away from the Lord’s Supper until a change of life was seen in them.^[155]

We cannot deny, however, that the Ordinances were severe, and that men and women were summoned before the consistory on grounds which now appear very trivial. Consequently, this discipline has been spoken against in the modern world. But minds more enlightened do justice to Calvin. ‘Without the transformation of morals,’ says a magistrate of our own times, distinguished for his moderation and the fairness of his views, ‘the reformation at Geneva would have been nothing more than a change in the forms of worship. The new foundation which was needed for a perpetual struggle would have been wanting. Nothing less than the genius of Calvin, admitted even by his opponents, would have sufficed to inspire with enthusiasm and to transform a people, and to breathe into it a new life. In order to effect a religious revolution, as he understood it, the submission of all the outward actions of life to a severe discipline was necessary; but the burden of this discipline in the sixteenth century must not be estimated by the conceptions of the nineteenth.^[156] In that age it would everywhere meet 77with the principle of obedience in full force; and it was lightened for all by the knowledge that no social position was exempted from its operation.’

Calvin knew that a hand mightier than his must establish religious and moral order in Geneva. ‘If God do not work by his spirit,’ said he, ‘all the doctrine that may be set forth will be like a trifle thrown to the winds.’ There was at this time a sort of public manifestation of this thought. In the month of December, 1542, the Council ordered that the monogram of the name of Jesus should be engraved on the gates of the town (Jésus gravés en pierre).^[157] The chronicles of Roset say that the Council ‘ordered to be engraved on the gates of the new walls which were being built, the name of Jesus above the armorial bearings.’^[158] It is very commonly stated that this resolution was adopted at the request of Calvin; but neither the registers of the Council, nor those of the consistory, nor Roset, mention it. This does not indeed imply that he had nothing to do with it; and this inscription was at all events placed by order of the Council, which was friendly to Calvin. But it was nothing new. Roset states that ‘this name was engraved on the old gates of the city, time out of mind.’ It had been placed there on the demand of the syndics, in 1471, and the custom appears to be still more ancient.

Opinions differ as to the nature of the government of the church of Geneva in the sixteenth century. Some have called it a theocracy, and have seen in it the predominance of the church over the state. This view is the most widely spread, and is current among both friends and opponents 78of the reformer. In our days the contrary view has been maintained. It has been asserted that at the time of the reformation of Geneva, the authority of the state was completely substituted for that of the ecclesiastical power; that the Council from that time intruded on ground which was altogether within the province of the church. In fact, it went to such a length as to regulate the hour and the number of sermons; and a minister could neither publish a book, nor absent himself for a few days, without the permission of the Council.^[159]

This last point of view is the true one; but there were sometimes circumstances which modified this state of things. Much depended on the relations of Calvin with the governing body. If he were not on good terms with them, the Council rigorously imposed its authority. Thus it was that in the affair of Servetus, Calvin, in spite of reiterated demands, could not induce the magistrate to soften the punishment of the unhappy Spaniard. But when their relations were agreeable, Calvin’s influence was undoubtedly powerful. There is no need to suppose that the state of things was always the same and absolutely self-consistent. But if the legislation be considered by itself, apart from the circumstances, which we have just pointed out, and without regard to the conviction which possessed Calvin’s mind that when essential matters of faith are at stake we must obey God, and not man, then it is not untrue to say that ‘Calvin impressed on his organization a lay, not to say a democratic, stamp; that he did not invest the clergy either with exclusive authority or even with the presidency of the church; and that assigning carefully the part of the magistrate and that of the ministry he set at the summit of his scheme a secular episcopate, which he placed in the hands of the state.’^[160]

It is true that this episcopate was placed in the hands 79of the state; but it is not certain that it was Calvin who placed it there. It was the state that assumed it. Before Calvin’s arrival, and while Farel and his friends were evangelizing Geneva, the Council had constantly exercised this overseership; and it was unwilling to throw it up by resigning it afterwards to the ministers. The Ordinances were not accepted exactly in the form in which Calvin had conceived them. The commission, of which the majority were laymen, and the Council itself, introduced corrections and additions, as we have previously remarked. But we insist on this point in order that the part of Calvin and that of the Council in this business may be clearly distinguished from each other. If the draft names the elders, the official copy adds, ‘Otherwise named appointees of the seignory (commis par la seigneurie);’ and elsewhere, ‘deputies of the seignory to the consistory.’^[161] This is important. If the subject be the examination of a minister, and his introduction to the people, the official copy adds, ‘being first of all, after examination had, presented to the seignory.’ If the draft says, ‘To obviate any scandals of life it will be necessary that there should be some form of correction;’ the official copy adds, ‘which shall pertain to the seignory.’ If the draft says of the schoolmaster, ‘that no one is to be received unless he is approved by the ministers;’ the official copy adds, ‘having first of all presented him to the seignory, and that the examination must be made in the presence of two lords of the Little Council.’ If the draft set out how the elders and the ministers are to proceed in their admonitions, the Council adds, ‘We have ordered that the said ministers are not to assume to themselves any jurisdiction; but that they are merely to hear the parties, and make the above-mentioned representations; and upon their statement of the case we shall be able to consult, and to deliver judgment, according to the exigencies of the case.’

Finally, the following additional article, proposed by 80the commission, was inserted in the official text, at the end of the Ordinances. ‘And let all this be done in such a manner that the ministers may have no civil jurisdiction, and make use only of the spiritual sword of the Word of God, as St. Paul enjoins upon them. And that this consistory shall in no respect trench upon either the authority of the seignory or ordinary courts of justice; but that the civil power may continue in its integrity. And if there should be need of inflicting any penalty and of attaching the parties, that the ministers with the consistory, after hearing the parties and making such representations as shall be proper, are to report the whole to the Council, which, on their statement, will consider of their decree, and give judgment according to the facts.’^[162]

The Council displayed its zeal even in mere trifles. Not once only, but every time the word elder occurs, it added to it or substituted for it the words appointed or deputed by the seignory. And whenever the report, to designate the Council, employs the word Messieurs, the official copy does not fail to insert in its place the seignory.

If Calvin had a large share in the Ordinances, assuredly the Council had its share too. The corrections which Calvin’s work received at their hands are all the more remarkable because at no other time did they hold him in greater esteem. The members of the seignory were friends of his, and the reformer having yielded to their entreaties so frequently repeated, it would have been natural that they should exhibit some deference to him; but, on the contrary, their manner of proceeding had a little stiffness in it. Calvin having, it seems, some fears about the alterations which the Council might have introduced into his scheme, requested, in concert with his colleagues, to see them; but the Council decided that it was not for the preachers to revise them,^[163] and that the whole should 81be delivered the same day to the Council of the Two Hundred.

According to all these data, the responsibility of Calvin in the ecclesiastical government of Geneva does not seem so great as is supposed; and the circumstance that the deputies or nominees of the Council formed the majority in the consistory is certainly significant. Many of the alterations or additions were just. This was especially the case with the article which assigned to the ministers the spiritual sword alone. Calvin must have acceded to it with joy. But others were real encroachments of the civil power. It is probable that the reformer was pained to see them, for he wished the church to have for its supreme law the word of its divine head. He would never have made a compromise on doctrine; but considering the great work which had to be done in Geneva, he believed—as otherwise he must have renounced the hope of accomplishing it—that he ought to make concessions on some points of government. He always condemned ‘the hypocrites who, while omitting judgment, mercy, and faith, and even reviling the law, are all the more rigorous in matters which are not of great importance.’ He did not strain at a gnat while he swallowed a camel. The dangers involved in the intrusion of the state into the affairs of the church were not recognized in his time; and the sacrifices which he made were more important than he imagined.

CHAPTER XXIII.
CALVIN’S PREACHING.

A great work had thus been accomplished; it remained to make practical application of its principles. The machine must work, must bring into act on the spiritual forces, and produce a movement in the pathway of light. 82As soon as Calvin had settled at Geneva he had resumed the duties of his ministry. On Sundays he conducted divine service, and had daily service every other week.^[164] He devoted three hours in each week to theological teaching; he visited the sick, and administered private reproof. He received strangers; attended the consistory on Thursday, and directed its deliberations; on Friday was present at the conference on Scripture, called the congregation; and, after the minister in office for the day had presented his views on some passage of Scripture, and the other pastors had made their remarks, Calvin added some observations, which were a kind of lecture. He wished, as he afterwards said, that every minister should be diligent in studying, and that no one should become indolent. The week in which he did not preach was filled up with other duties; and he had duties of every kind. In particular, he devoted much attention to the refugees who flocked to Geneva, driven by persecution out of France and Italy;^[165] he taught and exhorted them. He consoled, by his letters, ‘those who were still in the jaws of the lion;’ he interceded for them. In his study he threw light on the sacred writings by admirable commentaries, and confuted the writings of the enemies of the Gospel.

Calvin’s principal office, however, was that which, in the Ordinances, he had assigned to the minister; namely, to proclaim the Word of God for instruction, admonition, exhortation, and reproof.^[166] It is important to observe that he gives to preaching a practical character. He felt the need of this so strongly that he established it in the fundamental law of the church. For all this, it has been 83said that we find in his discourses chiefly ‘political eloquence, the eloquence of the forum, of the agora.’^[167] Unfortunately, the finest minds have believed this on mere hearsay. Reproaches of another kind have been made against him. It has been supposed that his sermons were full of nothing but obscure and barren doctrines. Calvin is certainly quite able to stand up for himself, and needs not the help of others. His works are sufficient, and if they were read as they deserve to be, although he might not be found eloquent after the present fashion, he would be found invariably Christian; a man possessing great knowledge of the world, with a strong popular element.

It is indispensable, however, to give in this place some account of Calvin’s preaching. He was, with Luther, the most important actor at the epoch of the Reformation; and there is no character in history more misunderstood than he is. It is a duty to come to the aid of one who is assailed—were it even the weakest that offers his aid to the strongest. Besides, it is no task of special pleading that we undertake. We shall confine ourselves to laying before the reader the documentary evidence in the trial.

Two or three thousand of Calvin’s sermons are extant. He could not spend weeks on the composition of a homily. During great part of the year he preached every day, sometimes twice a day. He did not write his sermons, but delivered them extempore. A short-hand writer took down his discourses during their delivery.^[168] These sermons opened the treasures of the Scriptures, and spread them abroad amongst men; and they were full of useful applications.

Calvin usually selected some book of the Bible, and preached a series of sermons on the divine words contained 84in it. These were published in large infolios. One volume appeared which contained a hundred and fifty-nine sermons on Job; another which consisted of two hundred sermons on Deuteronomy; in a third were given a hundred on the Epistles to Timothy and Titus. There are volumes of sermons on the Epistles to the Ephesians, the Corinthians, the Galatians, &c. How can it be thought that on these sacred books Calvin would deliver harangues of the forum? We have seen, from the Ordinances, that he esteemed it a great fault in a preacher to adopt an unusual manner of treating the Scriptures, which gives occasion for scandal; a curious propensity to indulge in idle questionings, &c. While so many prejudices with regard to Calvin exist among Protestants, there are Catholics who have done justice to him. One of these, a writer not generally friendly to him, has acknowledged that, according to this reformer, ‘the first and principal duty of the preacher is to be always in agreement with Holy Scripture. It is only on condition of his faithfully and conscientiously setting forth the divine word, that he has any right to the obedience and confidence of the church. From the moment that he ceases to preach the pure Gospel, his right to speak is extinct.’^[169] It is a pleasure to record this just and true judgment. It is entirely in agreement with what Calvin said of himself from the pulpit. ‘We must all,’ he said, ‘be pupils of the Holy Scriptures, even to the end; even those, I mean, who are appointed to proclaim the Word. If we enter the pulpit, it is on this condition, that we learn while teaching others. I am not speaking here merely that others may hear me; but I too, for my part, must be a pupil of God, and the word which goes forth from my lips must profit myself; otherwise woe is me! The most accomplished in the Scripture are fools, unless they acknowledge that they have need of God for their schoolmaster all the days of 85their life.’^[170] In Calvin’s view, every thing that had not for its foundation the Word of God was a futile and ephemeral boast; and the man who did not lean on Scripture ought to be deprived of his title of honor, spoliandus est honoris sui titulo. This was not the rule laid down for the orators of the agora.

Calvin used to preach in the cathedral church of St. Peter, which was more particularly adapted for preaching. A great multitude thronged the place to hear him. Among his hearers he had the old Genevese, but also a continually increasing number of evangelical Christians, who took refuge at Geneva on account of persecution, and who belonged, for the most part, to the most highly cultivated of their nation. Among them were also some Catholic priests and laymen, who had come to Geneva with the intention of professing there the reformed doctrines, and to these men it was very necessary to teach the doctrine of salvation. But if, in the sixteenth century, people came from a great distance to hear Calvin, will they be ready at this day, without stirring from their homes, to make acquaintance with some of those discourses which at that period contributed to the transformation of society, and which were, as usually stated on the title-page, ‘taken down verbatim from his lips as he publicly preached them’? They are considered by many persons the weakest of his productions, and it is hardly thought worth while even to glance at them. It is generally asserted that what was printed in the sixteenth century is unreadable in the nineteenth. Times are indeed changed; but there are still readers who, when studying an epoch, desire to see at first-hand the words of its most distinguished men. It is our duty to satisfy such readers.

Calvin ascended the pulpit. The words which he uttered, instead of resembling those which were heard in the political gatherings of Greece and Rome, bore rather 86the impress of the sermon on the mount, addressed by Jesus Christ to his disciples assembled around him. We may enter the church of St. Peter’s any day that we like, and our judgment will soon be formed on these questions.

‘Wherewithal,’ said he one day, ‘shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy word. If we desire that our life should be pure and simple, we must not each one devise and build up what seems good to himself; but God must rule over us and we must obey him, by walking in the way which he appoints for us. And if in this passage it is the young man that is spoken of, we are not to suppose that it does not also concern the old. But we know what the ebullitions of youth are, and how great is the difficulty of holding in check these violent affections. It is as if David said—The young go astray like the beasts which cannot be tamed; and they have such fiery passions that they break away just at the moment when they seem to be well in hand. But if they followed this counsel to take heed to themselves according to the word of God, it is certain that though their passions naturally break through restraint, we should see in them modesty and a quiet and gentle demeanor. Let us not put off remembering God till we are come to the crazy years of old age, and till we are broken and worn out in body.’^[171]

The same day Calvin addressed those who loved money, and pointed out the way to find true happiness. ‘I have rejoiced, says David, in the way of Thy testimonies as much as in all riches. What must we do to taste this joy? It is impossible,’ says Calvin, ‘that we should know the sweetness of the word of God, or that the doctrine of salvation should be pleasant to us, unless we have first cut off all those lusts and sinful affections which too much prevail in our hearts. It is just as if we expected to get 87wheat to grow in a field full of briars, thorns, and weeds, or to make a vine flourish on stones and rocks where there is no moisture. For what is the nature of man? It is a soil so barren that there is nothing more so; and all his affections are briars, thorns, and weeds, which can only choke and destroy all the good seed of God.’^[172]

On another occasion Calvin addressed the friends of the world; and quoting these words of David—‘I am a stranger on the earth, hide not thy commandments from me,’ he added, ‘There are some who in imagination make their permanent nest in this world, who expect to have their Paradise here, and feel no want of the commandments of God for their salvation. They are satisfied if they have their meat and drink, if they are able to gratify their appetites, have pleasures and delights, be honored and held in respect. This is all they ask for, and they rise no higher than this perishable and decaying life. Suppose a man given up to avarice, to uncleanness, to drunkenness, or to ambition, and although he should never hear a word of preaching, although he should never be spoken to about Christianity or the life eternal, for all that he would be quite content. To such men indeed it is irksome, it is to talk of gloomy things, to speak to them of God. They would like never to hear his name mentioned nor receive any tidings of him. But as for David, it is as if he said—If I had regard only to the present life, it would be better that I had not been born, or that I had been a hundred times destroyed. And wherefore? Because we are merely passing through this world and are on our way to an immortal life.’^[173]

Subsequently he deals with another class of characters; he directs his attention to those who have only sudden and transitory fits of devotion, and who only turn to God by fits and starts. ‘We ought not to have fits (bouffées), as many persons have, for glorifying God; and with 88whom, lift but a finger, it is all reversed. There may be some to-day who will feign that they are very devout. What a fine sermon! they will say. What admirable doctrine? And to-morrow how will it be with them? They will for all this go on mocking God and uttering taunts against his Word; or if God should send them adversity, then they will be fretted with him. True, the present life is subject to many vicissitudes; to-day we may have some sorrow; to-morrow we may be at ease; afterwards some sudden trouble may fall upon us; and then once more we come right. But notwithstanding this succession of changes, men must not bend to every wind; but while passing over the waves of the sea must be strong in that righteousness and uprightness which is the word of God.’^[174] ...

Calvin was struck with that exclusive self-love which exists in man. He believed, as was said by Pascal, a man whose intellect in many respects resembled his own, that ‘since sin occurred man has lost the first of his loves, the love for God; and the love for himself being left alone in this great soul, capable of an infinite love, this self-love has extended itself and overflowed into the void left by the love for God; and thus he has loved himself alone and all things for himself, that is to say, infinitely.’ Calvin energetically demands of man love to God. ‘If a man,’ says he, ‘is so sensitive that he is moved to avenge himself the moment he is wounded, and yet does not trouble himself at all when God is insulted and his law thrown to the ground, does it not show clearly that he is altogether fleshly, yea, more, that he is brutal (tenant de la brute)? It is a common characteristic of men, that if any wrong is done to them, they will be disturbed about it to the end. Let the honor of a man be touched, he flies immediately into a rage, and cares for nothing but to proceed against the offender. Let a man be robbed, his anger will be unappeasable. He is concerned about 89his purse, his meadows, his possessions, his houses, whichever it may be, and he will feel that he is wronged. But the man who has well regulated affections will not have so much concern for his own honor or for his own property as for the justice of God when this is violated. We ought to be affected by offences committed against God rather than by what merely concerns ourselves. There are very few who care at all about those offences. And if there be some who will say, “It grieves me that people thus sin against God,” and who nevertheless allow themselves to do as much evil or more than others, they show plainly that they are mere hypocrites. They persecute men rather than hate vice, and they prove that what they say is only feigning.’^[175]

Calvin in treating of other subjects appears full of grace and simplicity. Surrounded as he was by violent enemies, he felt a lively sympathy with David when in his Psalms he gives utterance to that cry of anguish,—‘O Lord, how are mine enemies multiplied!’ Calvin likewise knew what it was to be hated by furious enemies.

He draws a touching picture of terror. It is a graceful parable. ‘I have gone astray like a lost sheep; save thy servant! David,’ he says, ‘was so terrified at his enemies because he suffered such great and cruel persecutions. He was in the midst of them like a poor hunted lamb, which when it catches sight of a wolf, flees to the mountains to hide itself. Here was a poor lamb escaped from the jaws of the wolf, and so terrified that if it come to a well, it will plunge in headlong rather than pursue its way, for it knows not what to do nor what is to become of it. And thus David, being terrified, cried out—Lord, redeem thy servant! thus indicating that he leaned entirely on God’s protection and this is what we must do.’^[176]

These fragments are taken from sermons on the Old Testament; it is worth while to hear Calvin also on the 90New. People suppose that he put forward gloomy doctrines, which shut man out from salvation instead of leading him to it, and that he concerned himself with predestination alone. This opinion is at once so widely diffused and so untrue that it is the indispensable duty of the historian in this place to establish the truth. Let us hear him on I Timothy, ii., 3, 4, 5. Calvin declares that it is the will of God that all men should be saved.

‘The Gospel,’ he says, ‘is offered to all, and this is the means of drawing us to salvation. Nevertheless, are all benefited by it? Certainly not, as we see at a glance. When once God’s truth has fallen upon our ears, if we are rebels to it, it is for our greater condemnation. God, therefore, must go further, in order to bring us to salvation, and must not only appoint and send men to teach us faithfully, but must himself be master in our hearts, must touch us to the quick and draw us to himself. Then, adapting himself to our weakness, he lisps to us in his Word, just as a nurse does to little children. If God spoke according to his majesty, his language would be too high and too difficult; we should be confounded, and all our senses would be blinded. For if our eyes cannot bear the brightness of the sun, is it possible, I ask you, for our minds to comprehend the divine majesty? We say what every one sees: It is God’s will that we should all be saved, when he commands that his Gospel shall be preached. The gate of Paradise is opened for us; when we are thus invited, and when he exhorts us to repentance, he is ready to receive us as soon as we come to him.’

Calvin goes further and rebukes those who by their neglect set limits to the extent of God’s dominion.

‘It is not in Judea alone and in a corner of the country that the grace of God is shed abroad,’ he says, ‘but up and down through all the earth. It is God’s will that this grace should be known to all the world. We ought, therefore, as far as lies in our power, to seek the salvation 91of those who are to-day strangers to the faith, and endeavor to bring them to the goodness of God. Why so? Because Jesus Christ is not the Saviour of three or four, but offers himself to all. At the time when he drew us to himself were we not enemies? Why are we now his children? It is because he has gathered us to himself. Now, is he not as truly the Saviour of all the world? Jesus Christ did not come to be mediator between two or three men, but between God and men; not to reconcile a small number of people to God, but to extend his grace to the whole world. Since Jesus invites us all to himself, since he is ready to give us loving access to his Father, is it not our duty to stretch out our hand to those who do not know what this union is in order that we may induce them to draw nigh? God, in the person of Jesus Christ, has his arms as it were stretched out to welcome to himself those who seemed to be separated from him. We must take care that it be not our fault that they do not return to the flock. Those who make no endeavor to bring back their neighbor into the way of salvation diminish the power of God’s empire, as far as in them lies, and are willing to set limits to it, so that he may not be Lord over all the world. They obscure the virtue of the passion and death of Jesus Christ, and they lessen the dignity which was conferred on him by God his Father; to wit, that to-day for his sake the gate of heaven is opened, and that God will be favorable to us when we come to seek him.’

But Calvin asks how are we to bring a soul to God, and how are we to come to him ourselves?

‘We are but worms of the earth, and yet we must go out of the world and pass beyond the heavens. This, then, is impossible unless Jesus Christ appear, unless he stretch out his hand and promise to give us access to the throne of God, who in himself cannot but be to us awful and terrible, but now is gracious to us in the person of our Lord. If when we come before God, we contemplate only 92his high and incomprehensible majesty, every one of us must shrink back and even wish that the mountains may cover and overwhelm us. But when our Lord Jesus comes forward and makes himself our mediator, then there is nothing to terrify us, we can come with our heads no longer cast down, we can call upon God as our Father, in such wise that we may come to him in secret and pour out all our griefs in order to be comforted. But such a glory must be given to Jesus Christ that angels and other dignities may be assigned to their own rank, and that Jesus Christ may appear above all and in all things have the pre-eminence. This dignity must always be preserved for him, in that he shed his blood for us and reconciled us with God, discharging all our debts.

‘In every age the world has deceived itself with trifles and trash as means of appeasing God, just as we might try to pacify the anger of a little child with toys. Christ must needs devote himself, at the cost of his passion and death, in order to reconcile us (nous appointer) with God his Father, so that our sins may no longer be reckoned against us. We cannot gain favor in the sight of God by ceremonies or parade; but Christ has given himself a ransom for us. We have the blood of Jesus Christ and the sacrifice which he offered for us of his own body and his own life. In this lies our confidence, and by this means we are forgiven.’^[177]

This, then, is what Calvin says—‘The gate of paradise is open to us; the Lord is willing to receive us.’ What! some will say, does he give up the doctrine of the election of God, and of the necessity of the operation of the Holy Spirit for the regeneration of man? Certainly not. Calvin believed, in its full import, this saying of the Saviour—‘You have not chosen me, I have chosen you.’ It has been acknowledged by men endowed with a fine intellect, who at the same time did not hold the Christian faith, 93that there is an election of God, not only in the sphere of grace, but in that of creation. One of them has said—‘The life of children, who differ so much from each other, although they spring from the same stock, and pass through a similar course of education, is well adapted to confirm the followers of Augustine in their doctrine. Minds are not wanting that take offence every time they hear the doctrine of grace set forth without disguise. Have these same minds ever reflected on that strange fatality which stamps us with a mark distinct and deep from our birth and our infancy? If these minds are religious, to what doctrine will they have recourse (to explain this) which does not resolve itself into the doctrine of grace?‘^[178]

Calvin said to Christians, in conformity with the Scriptures, that it is God who seeks them and saves them; and that this goodwill of God ought to make them rejoice, deliver them from fears in the midst of so many perils, and render them invincible in the midst of so many snares and deadly assaults. But he makes a distinction. There are the hidden things of God, which are a mystery, and of these he says—‘Those who enter into the eternal council of God thrust themselves into a deadly abyss.’ Then there are the things which are known, which are seen in man, and are plain. ‘Let us contemplate the cause of the condemnation of man in his depraved nature, in which it is manifest, rather than search for it in the predestination of God, in which it is hidden and altogether incomprehensible.’^[179] He is even angry with those who want to know ‘things which it is neither lawful nor possible to know (predestination). Ignorance,’ says he, ‘of these things is learning, but craving to know them is a kind of madness.’^[180] It is a singular fact that what Calvin indignantly calls a madness should afterwards be named Calvinism. The reformer sets himself against this craving as a raging 94madness, and yet it is of this very madness that he is accused.

In Calvin there is the theologian, sometimes indeed the philosopher, although before all there is the Christian. He desires that every thing which may do men good should be offered to them. ‘But with regard to this dispute about predestination,’ he says, ‘by the inquisitiveness of men it is made perplexing and even perilous. They enter into the sanctuary of divine wisdom, into which if any one thrusts himself with too much audacity, he will get into a labyrinth from which he will find no exit, and in which nothing is possible to him but to rush headlong to destruction.’^[181] We are not sure that Calvin did not allow himself to be drawn a step too far into the labyrinth. But we have seen the deep conviction with which he declares that the gate of heaven is opened, that the will of God is that his grace should be known to all the world. This is enough.

Calvin did not, however, hide from himself the fact that a minister of God’s Word must look forward to many contradictions and struggles. Thus, in his sermon on the duty of a preacher, it is said to the minister—‘It is thy duty to prepare thy hand betimes, so that no assault should overcome thee. Thou must not retreat nor fly before the foe (que tu placques làtout), but take warning that henceforth thou must needs fight.’^[182]

Such was Calvin as a preacher. He points out the evils which are in man’s heart, but he proclaims still more loudly the love and the power of Him who heals him. He makes man feel that he is powerless, but he breathes into his soul the power of God. He casts down, but he also lifts up; and if he humbles, he is still more in earnest in getting men to run straight to the mark, in entreating them not to go astray in cross-ways, but 95to ‘get rid of all distractions.’ Forwards! forwards! he cries to the loiterers, and he shows them the means of advancing.

Calvin certainly was not narrow-minded; and while he was before all a member of the kingdom of God, he did not think it his duty to take no interest in the concerns of nations and of kings. He never forgot his persecuted fellow-religionists; and if for their deliverance it was needful to appeal to the powerful, to the princes, of the earth he did so. Is he to be accused of having therein played the part of a politician? Would it not have been a sad blemish on so fair a life to have forgotten his countrymen who were cast into prisons or bound on the galleys? But Calvin, having gained the rock on which the tempest could not harm him, did not cease to direct his attention to such of his brethren as were still pelted by the storm and well-nigh swallowed up in the abyss. He prayed; he cried aloud; he called upon those in power to stay the sword which was unsheathed against the righteous; he was able likewise, in grave emergencies, from the pulpit to invite to prayer and humiliation, to recall to mind the martyrs of old time, to declare that persecutors will have to render an account, to show that faith in the living God is an impregnable fortress; to urge those who, having come from a distance, had taken refuge at Geneva, to behave themselves holily, and to entreat all Christians, especially the weak, to make no blameworthy concessions, but to continue steadfast in the purity of the faith. What is there in all this incompatible with the evangelical ministry? What is there in all this that is not even obligatory and that could not fail to be approved of God? No, Calvin was neither a Dracon nor a Lycurgus; neither a political orator nor a statesman. His pulpit was no tribune for harangues; his work was not that of a secret chief of Protestantism. He was before all things an evangelist, a minister of the living God. Far from addressing himself 96to the people in general, he laid hold of the individual, and on him he made a deeper and more lasting impression than modern preachers have done with their vague discourses.

CHAPTER XXIV.
CALVIN’S ACTIVITY.
(February 1542.)

With Calvin words and deeds went hand in hand. If he took part in external affairs, we understand that he did so in the midst of his flock. He was preacher and pastor, although he is chiefly known as teacher and reformer. Apart from Calvin, without the institutions of which he was the promoter, the evangelical reformation, religious and moral, would not have been accomplished in Geneva. We may also add that national independence and political liberties would not have been maintained in this town. The old Genevese population would have been unable to do this. Undoubtedly there had been men among this small people who had displayed great energy in repulsing the ambitious attempts of the Dukes of Savoy, in taking from the bishops the temporal privileges which they had usurped, in restoring civil liberties and in uniting Geneva to the Swiss cantons. All these measures were essential to the Reformation, for which a free people was indispensable. We have already narrated their achievements; and we have been reproached, unjustly, we think, for having done this at too great length. But at the time when Calvin appeared in the city of the first Huguenots, morality was far from being irreproachable; religion, scarcely disengaged from the forms and errors of Rome, was with the majority neither personal nor evangelical, deep-seated, pure, vital, or active; and civilization itself was hardly at a higher level there than it had reached in other countries. 97The heroes of independence had need themselves of being enlightened by the light of the Gospel, and of being transformed by its fire. Their first education was defective, and it was necessary to begin it again. Their intercourse with all that surrounded them exerted an influence over them which needed to be counterbalanced. The great advantage of the Reformation having been, in their view, their deliverance from the pretensions of priests and of princes, it was needful that they should learn to recognize in the Gospel the tidings of a higher order, of a spiritual enfranchisement, which would deliver them from sin and would give them the liberty of the children of God. They had availed themselves of the reformation as a political instrument; they must now learn to have recourse to it as a religious, moral, and divine instrument, capable of making them citizens of another and more glorious city. Many did this. Calvin’s return was not exclusively the work of a party. A profound conviction existed, both in the most influential men and in the minds of the people in general, that Calvin was the man they wanted. The Genevese population was therefore disposed to accept the institutions which he offered them. But there were nevertheless some secret discontents, which were to break out some day, and would become for Calvin and for the consistory the occasion of frequent and obstinate conflicts.

The presidency of the consistory was not vested in Calvin, but in one of the syndics. The reformer knew how to keep his own place, and gave due honor to the lay magistrate. While, however, he was not president of this body, it may be truly said that he was its soul.^[183] The consistory met immediately after its establishment. The report of its sittings did not begin till Thursday, February 16, 1542; but nine meetings had previously been held.

Calvin was not a theocrat, as he has been called, unless 98the term be taken in the most spiritual sense. A breath of eternal life inspired him; he was full of love for souls; a practical man in the best sense of the word. Many of the characteristics of St. Paul reappeared in Calvin. While, like Paul, he strenuously maintained the great doctrine of grace, he took an interest in the comforts of life of those to whom his preaching was addressed, and sometimes applied himself to the humblest details. He was well informed even on matters which do not seem to be in his province. For instance, he made inquiries after a house for his friend De Falais, and offered him one with ‘a garden, a large yard, and a fine view.’^[184] But it was especially in the consistory that he displayed the same interest in small things as in great. Conversation, dress, food, all were interesting to him. He protected women against the bad treatment of their husbands; he taught parents and children, masters and servants, their mutual duties; and saw that the sick were treated with all needful attention. At the first sitting of the consistory (February 16, 1542), De Pernot, from the district of Gex, who had somewhat the air of those loungers (flâneurs), who are found in all parties, related to the venerable body that he had been to Mount Salève with Claudine de Bouloz and some companions. The Genevese had before this time begun to enjoy pleasure excursions on this mountain. This excursion was perhaps for De Pernot one of those parties of pleasure to which some mystery is attached. He walked with the Genevese maiden; they chatted and laughed as they came down the mountain, and, as Racine says:

Now, in the midst of this gaiety and these pretty trifling speeches, there was, said Pernot to the consistory, some talk about marriage. Moreover, he added, when they arrived at Collonges-sous-Salève, Claudine had drunk 99with him ‘to their marriage, in the presence of credible witnesses.’ But Claudine denied it altogether. She drank, she owned, but agreed to nothing else, because she had not the permission of her parents. Thus, then, a dispute about a promise made on the mountain and at the inn was one of the subjects to which the grave Calvin had to give his attention. There were other questions of more importance. Domestic disagreements, altercations, duels, games of chance, above all licentious conduct, were frequently brought before the consistory; but such cases gradually diminished in number.^[185]

The consistory had besides much to do with Roman Catholicism, which was of too long standing in the episcopal city to be expelled from it at a single stroke. Now, hostility to Rome was at this time general. It prevailed in the ministers and their friends by reason of their attachment to the Holy Scriptures, which condemned the system of the papacy. It prevailed in the other citizens by reason of the conviction which possessed them that Protestantism alone could maintain their independence. It influenced the French refugees who, having escaped from prison, and from the death to which their brethren were still exposed, felt their hearts stirred with indignation at the sight of Roman Catholicism, the source of these hateful persecutions. Further, many persons were cited before the consistory on suspicion of being Romanists. These people were not very courageous; in their own church they were placed under a régime of fear; and a soul that is led by fear is always the weaker. |Examination Of Jeanne Peterman.| On March 30, 1542, Dame Jeanne Peterman appeared before the consistory. She was unwilling to abjure her faith, but she endeavored to confess it as faintly as possible, and even had recourse to strategem to avoid making an avowal of what she believed. She made a well-tangled skein, and endeavored thereby to entangle the members of the consistory. They wanted to clear up the matter, 100and she tried to darken it. ‘You have not received the holy supper,’ they said to her, ‘and you go to mass; what is your faith?’ ‘I believe in God,’ she said, ‘and wish to live in God and holy church. I say my Pater Noster in the Roman tongue, and I believe just as the church believes.’ ‘What do you mean by that?’ ‘That I do not believe except just as the church believes.’ ‘Is there no church in this town?’ ‘I do not know.’ ‘Are not the sacraments of our Lord administered here?’ ‘I believe in the holy supper, as God said, This is my body.’ ‘Why are you not content with the supper administered in this town, but go elsewhere?’ ‘I go where I please; our Lord will not come here in full array, but where his word is there is his body. He said that there would come ravening wolves.’ After Calvin had given her an admonition according to the Word of God, she said that on the previous Sunday a German, a very respectable man, asked her how she prayed, and that she had replied, ‘You do not find people here saying to the Virgin Mary, Pray for us.’ She did not on this occasion add that she herself invoked her. As she often said, ‘I believe in God,’ which deists themselves might have said, she was asked, ‘What then is your faith toward God?’ She replied, ‘The preachers ought to know better than I do about God. I am not a learned person like you. There is no other God for me but God.’ She was pressed more closely. ‘In what way will you take the holy supper?’ ‘I do not mean to be either an idolater or an hypocrite. The Virgin Mary is my advocate. The Virgin Mary is a friend of God, daughter and mother of Jesus Christ. I do not know about the church.’ By this she doubtless meant that she would not enter into controversy on this subject. ‘I do not know,’ she added, ‘whether the faith of others is right. Our lady is a good woman, and I wish to live in the faith of holy church.’ Thus the poor woman hardly got any further than the Virgin and the church. This was a long way. It appears that it was the president-syndic 101and not Calvin who had pressed her, for she ended by saying, ‘The lord syndic is a heretic, and I do not wish to be one.’ The pastors said to her, ‘There is only one mediator, Jesus Christ; as for the saints, male or female, let people do as they will.’ The consistory required that the poor woman should be corrected in an evangelical manner, in order that she might not go to other places to worship idols; ‘that remonstrance should be made, and that she should go daily to sermon.’ Again, appearing before them on the following Thursday, she spoke with more decision. ‘I cannot receive the supper,’ she said; ‘I have taken it and will take it elsewhere, until the Lord touch my heart.’ Thereupon she was declared to be out of the church. ‘In my time,’ she said; ‘the Jews have been driven out of this town, and a time will come when the Jews will be all over the town.’ If the prediction has not been fulfilled with respect to the Jews, those who adhere to the faith of this woman are now very numerous there; and, perhaps, this is what at bottom she meant to predict.^[186]

Matters of the same kind as that which we have just indicated, and others, such as extravagance in dress, licentious or irreligious songs, improprieties during divine service, usury, frequenting of taverns and gaming houses,^[187] drunkenness, debauchery, and other like offences were frequently brought before the consistory. It had nothing to do, or only indirectly, with political events, or even with measures for the suppression of the libertine party, for this was effected by judicial methods, and the consistory was not called upon to take cognizance of such matters. There is not a word about the trial of Servetus in 1543; the consistory had nothing to do with that proceeding. 102The only allusion that we find to it does not occur till a month after that odious act, November 23, 1543. On that day a woman, accused of frequenting a certain house, replied that she had only been there twice, the day after the supper ‘and the day the heretic was burnt.’ The name of Servetus is not even mentioned. In this circumstance there is, perhaps, a hint for those who look upon Calvin as the principal offender in the death of the unfortunate Servetus. Assuredly he was blameworthy, and his whole age with him.^[188]

If the consistory proceeded with severity against immorality and licentiousness, its activity was no less conspicuous in a charitable direction, and one favorable to the public liberties.^[189] It did not forget that it was bound to protect the little ones who were oppressed, and all those who were in any misfortune. Calvin recalled the saying of Jesus Christ about those of his people who are brought low, and said, ‘If their insignificance give occasion to the world to fall upon them, they ought to know that God does not despise them. It would be a thing too absurd for a mortal to make no account of those who are so precious in the sight of God.’^[190] The consistory used its influence with the council on behalf of reforms which were for the advantage of the people. It demanded a reduction in the price of wheat, improvement of prison discipline, and restriction of imprisonment for debt. It censured fathers who were too severe with their children, and creditors who were too exacting with their debtors. It was severe against those who held a monopoly, and against forestallers of food. It urged moderation in the citations made before the consistory, and desired that they should be confined to scandalous cases. Men have been heard at various periods, even men of the humblest class, lifting up their voices against Calvin and his consistory without any suspicion that they were insulting their 103own friends and benefactors. Was not the suppression of drunkenness, of immorality, of gaming-houses, of quarrelling, and other evils of the like kind a benefit, and a very great benefit to the people? One who has set forth in the most accurate and impartial manner the proceedings of the consistory has said, ‘We must not, indeed, expect absolute impartiality nor abundance of good nature in the face of the resistance which was offered to the consistory; nevertheless, the facts speak, and are all in favor of the reformers.’^[191]

The realization of the plan formed by Calvin, the moral and religious restoration of Geneva, called for great efforts on his part, and exposed him to much opposition, many affronts and contemptuous speeches which were flung in his teeth. He bore it all without cherishing resentment. This man, whose name was familiar throughout Christendom, the leader who could cope with Rome, the great teacher whose letters kings received with reverence, when called by a fish-wife, in the presence of his colleagues, ‘a tavern haunter,’ took it with admirable patience. Wrongs done against the persons of the pastors were treated by the consistory with greater lenity than opposition to evangelical doctrine, invocation of the devil, or invocation of the Virgin and the saints. Calvin, admitting that outward appearance has its value in the policy of the world, but holding that it ought not to be considered in the spiritual kingdom of Christ, held the balance true between a working man and a member of the most honorable families. Sons of the latter were more than once reprimanded and punished, even though the father was friendly to the reformation. Hence troubles frequently arose, although the fathers continued faithful to the established order. In the midst of these agitations Calvin remained calm. He wrote to Myconius, ‘It was in my power, when I came here, to triumph over my enemies, and to attack at full sail the party which had 104done me wrong; but I have abstained. I have also most carefully avoided all kinds of reproach, lest in uttering a word, however innocent, I should seem to intend to persecute the one or the other.’^[192]

The knowledge which he gained during his first residence at Geneva, and the reflections which had occupied his mind during the three years of his exile, had been profitable to the reformer; his wisdom and his meekness had been ripened by experience.

Calvin and Viret had resolved to use their utmost efforts to procure peace; ‘for,’ said the former, ‘it is necessary not only that we abstain from debate, but that we take great pains to put an end to dissension among others, removing every occasion of hatred and rancor.’ He was well acquainted with the state of men’s minds in Geneva, and likewise with the sentiments of his colleagues.^[193] ‘There are some of them,’ he wrote to Myconius, ‘who are no friends of mine, and others who are openly hostile; but I take all the pains I can to prevent the spirit of discord from creeping in amongst us. We have in the town a seed of intestine discord, but we strive by our patience and gentleness ^[194] to prevent the church suffering from it. Every one knows, by experience, the humane and amiable disposition of Viret.^[195] I am not more severe than he is, at least in this respect. Perhaps you will hardly believe this, but for all that it is true. I value so highly general peace and a cordial union that I do violence to myself; so that even those who are opposed to us are obliged to give me this praise. This is so well known that day after day men who were previously my avowed enemies are becoming my friends. I conciliate 105others by my courtesy, and in some measure succeed, although not on all occasions.’

The opponents of Calvin in his own time were not the only ones to do justice to him; those likewise whom he has had in later times have done the same. ‘This kindly and conciliatory conduct of Calvin after his return,’ one of these has said, ‘is one of the most beautiful pages of his history.’ It is impossible not to value this testimony; but is it fair to add that it would have been more meritorious if Calvin had had less consciousness of it, and that what he wrote to his friends on the subject often leaves on the mind of the reader an unpleasant impression?^[196] We must, in the first place, remark that, in attributing patience and gentleness to himself, Calvin is not speaking exclusively of himself. He says we, which includes, at least, Viret.^[197] Next, we must note that he was bound to give an accurate account of the state of things to the friends who had done every thing to promote his return to Geneva. And, lastly, that if Calvin is to be condemned for this communication, we shall have to condemn likewise (which no one will do) Christians more perfect than he was; St. Paul, for instance, who said, ‘Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.’

In Calvin gentleness was combined with strength. He understood the difficulties of his task, and devoted himself to it with great seriousness and indefatigable zeal. He had now to set in motion the chariot which he had taken so much pains to construct. He had to teach each man his duty, to restore the public worship, to attend to the young, the poor and the sick, to do the work of peace-maker, 106of consoler, and of reformer. It was to him that recourse was had about every thing, sometimes even about affairs of the state. He had not two consecutive hours, he says, free from interruption. ‘You cannot believe,’ he wrote to Bucer, ‘in what a whirlwind and confusion I am writing to you. In this place I am entangled in such a multitude of affairs that I am almost beside myself.’ And to Myconius he said, ‘During the first month of my ministry I was so overwhelmed with painful and distressing labors that I was well-nigh exhausted. How difficult and wearisome is the task of reconstructing a fallen building!‘^[198]

Calvin consequently felt the need of assistants who would earnestly co-operate with him. He endeavored to retain Viret at Geneva. ‘With Viret,’ he said, ‘I can bear the burden tolerably well; but if he is taken from me I shall be in a more deplorable position than I can say.’^[199] Viret was, however, obliged to resume his duties at Lausanne in July, 1542. The Ordinances had provided that there should be at Geneva five ministers and three coadjutors, the latter also to be ministers. Now, on his arrival Calvin had found, in addition to Viret and Bernard, Henri de le Mare and Aimé Champereau, the last elected in 1540. But these ministers were ‘rather an obstacle than an aid.’ He found them too rough, full of themselves, having no zeal and still less knowledge, and, further, ill-disposed towards himself. ‘I endure them,’ he adds; ‘I behave myself towards them with kindliness. I might have dismissed them on my arrival, but I preferred to act with moderation.’ Here again, we find Calvin steadily adhering to a line of conduct which does him honor. This same year, 1542, four new pastors were appointed for the church of Geneva: Pierre Blanchet, who showed himself apt to teach; Matthias de Geneston, who successfully delivered his first sermon. ‘The fourth sermon,’ 107wrote Calvin to Viret, ‘surpassed all my expectations.’ The other two pastors were Louis Treppereau and Philippe Ozias, surnamed de Ecclesia. Of one of these Calvin said ‘that he had given a specimen of his ability, such as he had expected from him;’ whether good or bad he does not inform us. In 1544 Geneva had twelve pastors, but six of them were serving in the country churches. The best known of these new ministers was Nicolas des Gallars, seigneur de Saules, near Paris, whom Calvin highly esteemed, and who afterwards filled an important position in the French reformation, at Poissy, at Paris, and at La Rochelle. Some unfrocked monks arrived at Geneva, expecting to find there, in addition to the liberty of not being Romanists, that of not being Christians; but Calvin distrusted people of this sort. There were some pastors whom it was necessary to dismiss, either because they were indolent in their work, or because they were extravagant in their preaching, or because they did not conduct themselves becomingly.^[200]

In addition to the labors and the anxieties of his public office Calvin had some personal sorrows to bear.

A heavy trial which fell upon him in the month of June, 1542, was at the same time a precious seal sent on his ministry by God. The first magistrate of the republic was Ami Porral, one of those citizens who had labored with the utmost earnestness to secure the independence of Geneva and its union with Switzerland. He had a cultivated mind, and had written a book on the history of Geneva, for which the Council expressed to him its acknowledgments.^[201] Among the old Huguenots no one had more joyfully received the reformation and the reformer. In the spring time he fell ill. No sooner had Calvin heard of it than he hastened to his house, in company 108with Viret. ‘I am in danger,’ said the first syndic; ‘the malady from which I suffer has been fatal in my family.’ These three excellent men then had a long conversation together on various subjects, Porral speaking with as much facility as if his health had been sound. His sufferings increased during the two days which followed; but his understanding seemed more lively than formerly, and his speech more fluent. A great number of the citizens of Geneva came to see him; and to each of these he gave a serious exhortation, which was no idle babbling, but was discreetly adapted to the special circumstances of each individual. For three days he appeared to be recovering, but on the fourth day his illness increased, and danger was imminent. Nevertheless, the more he suffered in body the more full was his mind of animation and life. It was he who had censured De la Mare for the strange expressions which we have already noticed. Bernard had taken the part of his colleague, and the result was a coolness between the syndic and the two ministers. Porral now sent for them, and a reconciliation was made after he had seriously admonished them. On the day which proved to be his last, Calvin and Viret arrived at his house at nine o’clock in the morning. The pious reformer, fearing lest he should fatigue his friend if he made a long address, simply set before the dying man the cross of Jesus Christ, his grace and the hope of everlasting life.^[202] ‘I receive the messenger whom God sends to me,’ said Porral, ‘and I know the power of Christ to strengthen the conscience of true believers.’ Then he bore witness to the work of the ministry as a means of grace, and to the benefits which flow from it, ‘in so luminous a manner,’ says Calvin, ‘that we were both of us astonished, and, I might almost say, in a state of stupor.’ Porral had experienced it. He said, in drawing to a close, ‘I declare that I receive the remission of sins which you announce in the name of Jesus Christ, as though an angel 109from heaven appeared to proclaim it to me.’ Then he commended, ‘in a marvellous manner, the unity which makes one single body of all the true members of the church.’ He was pained at the recollection of former differences, and, turning to several friends who were at this moment standing by him, he implored them to be of one mind with Calvin and Viret. ‘I have myself,’ said he, ‘been too obstinate in certain matters; but my eyes have been opened, and I see now what mischief may come of disagreement.’ He afterwards made a confession of his faith, short but sincere, serious and clear. Then, turning to Calvin and Viret, Porral exhorted them to perseverance and steadfastness in the work of the ministry. He set forth the difficulties which they would encounter. One might have called him a prophet unveiling the future. He spoke with admirable wisdom of things which concerned the public good. ‘You must continue to put forth your utmost efforts,’ he said to those who surrounded him, ‘for the purpose of reconciling Geneva with her allies.’ The contest with Berne was especially dwelt upon. ‘Although some blustering fellows may cry out very loudly,’ said he, ‘fear not, and be not discouraged.’ After a few more words Calvin prayed, and then departed with Viret.

Idelette, informed of Porral’s danger, came in the afternoon. ‘Whatever may befall,’ the Christian syndic said to her, ‘be of good courage; remember that you did not come here by chance, but that you were conducted hither by the wonderful council of God, in order that you might be of service in the work of the church.’ A little while after he made a sign that his voice failed him. However, he made known that he perfectly recollected the confession which he had made, and added that in this faith he died.

Having recovered a little strength, he pronounced with faith, but with a feeble voice, the song of Simeon. ‘Lord,’ said he, ‘now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, 110according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.’ He added, ‘I have seen, I have touched with my hand that merciful Redeemer who saves me.’^[203] He then lay down to rest, as if to wait for the Lord; and after that he spake no more, only showing from time to time, by some sign, that his spirit was present.

At four o’clock, Calvin came with the other three syndics, Porral’s colleagues. The dying man made an effort to speak to them, but could not. Calvin, affected, began to speak himself, ‘and spoke,’ says he, ‘as well as he could, his friend listening to him in perfect peace. Hardly had we left him, before he gave up his pious soul to Jesus Christ. He had been entirely renewed in his mind.’^[204]

This death clearly shows that Calvin’s work was not merely to establish order in the church and to prescribe for all a moral life. He was the instrument of still greater good. Porral had found Jesus Christ, perhaps in his latter days; he had become a new creature; he called upon God as his Father; he was in possession of that peace which passeth all understanding, and had the hope of eternal life. Calvin was not the teacher of a scholastic theology; he was the minister of a living Christianity, and none are his true disciples but those in whom the Christian life exists.

No sooner had Porral passed away than Calvin was threatened with a greater affliction still. Idelette, who regarded the first syndic as her husband’s protector, seems to have been deeply affected by his death. At the beginning of July she was ill and prematurely gave birth to a child. Her life was in danger, and Calvin feared that the loss of his friend might be followed by that of the faithful companion of his life. To Viret, then at 111Lausanne, he wrote, ‘I am in very great anxiety.’^[205] But God preserved to him this precious helper for some years more.

In the midst of his griefs, Calvin had great consolations. The Christian work was prospering. He was not easy to satisfy; and yet, as early as November, 1541, he wrote to Farel—‘The people are quite disposed to conform to our wishes. The preaching is well attended, the hearers behave well. Many things, it is true, have to be set right, both with respect to the understanding and with respect to the affections, but the cure can only be effected by degrees.’ In March, 1542, he wrote to Myconius—‘What consoles and refreshes me is the fact that we are not laboring in vain or without fruit. Fruit, indeed, is not so abundant as we might desire; nevertheless, it is not so very rare, and there are tokens of a change for the better. A fairer future shines before us, if only Viret be left us.’^[206]

Thus the action of the reformer, of his friends and of the institutions which he had established, under the blessing of God, gradually wrought a change in this Genevese population, so passionate, so full of excitement, and so much addicted to pleasure. A real religious life developed itself in many individuals, and its influence was general. Luxury diminished; simplicity, morality, and the other virtues, which are the fruit of faith, increased. There still remained, indeed, some evil; enmity and discord frequently sprung up, sometimes among the people in general, sometimes in families; but there was also much that was good. Calvin believed ‘that we ought to adopt a way of living so regulated that it should make us beloved of all, while at the same time we should be prepared to incur hatred for the love of Christ;’ and further ‘that we are bound to take pains to settle the 112differences which exist among others.’ Occupation of this sort did not fail him, and he was frequently successful. Calvin’s manner of proceeding has been so much misrepresented that it is necessary to give some examples of it in order to re-establish the truth. We shall have brought before us at the same time a scene characteristic of the period. Françoise, mother of the noble Pierre Tissot, treasurer of the republic, was a woman of irritable and intractable temper. Her bad disposition was the occasion of trouble in the family, and made herself unhappy. The fact was the more to be regretted because it concerned a family of high standing, so that any dissension prevailing in it was the worse example. It was resolved that an attempt should be made to effect a reconciliation between the mother, her son, and her daughter-in-law, Louise.

The task was entrusted to Calvin and the syndic Chiccand. They summoned the treasurer before them. ‘Your mother,’ they said, ‘is annoyed with you and your wife.’ ‘I give honor and reverence to my mother,’ replied the treasurer, ‘as God commands.’ The mother having made her appearance in the hall of the consistory, Tissot, who desired to maintain a decorous and honorable deportment, approached and saluted her, and wished her ‘Good-day’; but she replied passionately—‘Keep your “good-days” to yourself, and the devil fill your belly with them!’ Thereupon Tissot said to the consistory—‘I make my mother a larger allowance than my father fixed for her, and it is regularly paid her. If my mother does not like the wheat which I send her I give her money to buy other. I furnish her with wine, the best that is to be had. She has but lately asked me for eight écus for her servant. I paid the apothecary and the physicians the expenses of her recent illness. My wife during that time visited her, but my mother refused to eat the soups which she prepared for her. With regard to my brother Jean,’ continued the treasurer, ‘I have used all the means which 113appeared to me likely to bring him back to an honorable life, but without effect; he is a profligate.’

Françoise was not slow to reply. ‘My allowance has not been paid the last year, as the treasurer alleges. His wife never brought me broth in my illness, nor did he ever give me any of his wine, except two bossots, which I cannot drink.’ ‘I gave her good wine,’ said the treasurer, ‘but she put it into a vessel not fit to keep it in. Mother,’ said he, turning to her. ‘I am not thy mother,’ bluntly replied Françoise.

The consistory, then, through the medium of Calvin, who had been charged with the duty, addressed to them remonstrances and warnings (commonitions). ‘Lay aside,’ said the reformer, ‘all hatred and rancor for all bygone time to the present day. Live together in true peace and love, as son and mother ought, and let any thing that is due to the said Françoise be paid to her.’ ‘I am ready,’ said the treasurer, ‘to pay her what shall be quite sufficient for her, the utmost that I can, and more than before.’ Then, speaking to Françoise, ‘Mercy, mother, for God’s love, and let bygones be bygones.’ ‘But,’ says the Register, ‘Françoise would do nothing of the sort.’ This woman seemed to have a heart of flint. Her look, her manner, and her words showed this. The consistory, vexed at her obstinacy, requested her to appear again the following week, asked her to reflect on the business and to attend the sermons, and directed that fitting remonstrance should be made with her. At this moment, whether Calvin’s words made some impression on her, or whether she became conscious of her fault and a better spirit was given her from on high, or probably from all these causes combined, Françoise was softened and affected. ‘The mountains melted like wax at the presence of the Lord.’ ‘Ah, well,’ she said, ‘I am going to forgive them for the love of God and the seignory. I forgive my son all the faults he has committed against me, and I forgive also my daughter-in-law.’ The latter, who was 114perfectly innocent, and had done all that she could for her mother-in-law, then said, ‘I am not the cause of the quarrel. When my mother was ill I went to be of service to her, as the neighbors know. When I knew that she was in want of any thing I used to give it her. It is no fault of mine that we are not all friends with one another.’ So the matter ended. The poor Françoise was particularly sharp, exacting, and irritable, but at the same time open to conciliation. The restoration of goodwill between parties who were at variance was, it is evident, one of Calvin’s duties. ‘While we preserve peace,’ said he, ‘the God of peace counts us as his children.’^[207]

The institution of the consistory and the beginning of its activity mark the epoch at which the reformation of Geneva may be considered to be accomplished. At the same time it is the work which is characteristic of Calvin. To form a people it is not enough to collect a vast assembly of men; they must be governed by the same spirit, the same constitution, and the same laws. A multitude of soldiers levied in a whole country is not yet an army; they must form a single body, must be subjected to the same discipline, and must obey the same general. Here are two distinct operations: in the first place, the creation of the elements; next, their organization. We can hardly fail to acknowledge that God had given to Luther the qualifications needed for beginning the work, and to Calvin those which were required for completing it. Each of these undertakings was not only suited to their individual characters, but was likewise in accordance with the spirit of the two races of men to which they belonged. One of these races takes an enterprise in hand with energy, and the other carries it out to perfection. These are the flags of the two leaders.

Luther had not been the only man of action, although he was such in the broadest and loftiest acceptation. What he had been in Germany, Zwinglius had at the 115same time been in German Switzerland, and Farel somewhat later in the French districts. Later still, Knox and others were the same in their respective countries. Energetic men, fearless and blameless knights of the spiritual realm, they assailed courageously the stronghold of the enemy, and made noble conquests. At the sight of the deplorable condition to which Rome had reduced Christendom, of the licentiousness and the dissensions of popes, bishops, monks, and council, they had cried aloud. This cry had been heard by a great multitude of men, who were sleeping at the time, and it had created immense excitement in all Christian lands. Starting out of a sleep of several centuries, they had rushed to arms from all quarters. The wise and the good had laid hold of the Bible; but sometimes fanatical peasants had laid hold of the scythe. Philosophers had devised erroneous systems; and libertines had given themselves up to immoral imaginations. There was a great tumult in Christendom and immense confusion.

Then it was that Calvin appeared. Calm in the midst of violent excitement, strong in the midst of fatal weakness, he did not confine his attention to the little city in which he had been twice settled. He went bravely forward over a burning soil, the shot hissing right and left of him; he stretched out his hand to Christendom. Raising his eyes to his Chief, who was in heaven, he besought his aid; and for the purpose of influencing men he took into his hands the sovereign Word of God. Commander of the armies of the Lord, if we may so speak, nothing disturbed the serenity, the security, or the majesty of his aspect. Called to introduce order in the midst of great confusion, his penetrating glance was turned to the conflict in which the combatants were engaged hand to hand. He distinguished in the crowd who were friends and who were foes. He saw who ought to be repulsed and who ought to be encouraged. He understood that he had to contend not only with Rome, which was making open 116war on the Gospel, but also with those perfidious adversaries who insinuated themselves into the ranks of the evangelicals, and under shelter of their colors promulgated deadly errors, and even overthrew the counsel of God from its foundation. He did more. Those who were fighting for the same cause as himself gave him hardly less trouble. It was necessary to prevent their firing madly at one another, to make peace between their divided chiefs, to establish order and to promote unity. Above all it was necessary to baffle and repulse with a face of brass the crafty and powerful enemy, Jesuitism, which was mustering against him all the forces of the papacy. After the great Luther, the bold Zwinglius, and the indefatigable Farel, there was need of a man who should temper and restrain the minds of men, who should demand and get, not the factitious unity of Rome, but the spiritual and true unity of the people of God, and whose forehead, ‘as an adamant, harder than flint,‘^[208] should repulse and disperse Rome and her army. The first three champions whom we have just named carried the sword. Calvin, humble, poor and of mean appearance, held in one hand a balance, and in the other a sceptre; and if the first three were the heroes of the reformation, if Luther was, under God, its great founder, Calvin seems to have been its lawgiver and its king.

The vessel of reform, indeed, had been energetically launched by Luther; but there soon appeared on her decks, from Italy, Spain, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and Poland, men of acute and cavilling spirit, of restless disposition, who, by their agitations and their disputations, might cause the ship to capsize; while at the same time a well-armed and well-appointed galley, under Roman colors, running at full speed with oars and sails, struck the vessel with its beak-head, intending to sink her in the deep. What errors and what dangers were threatening! But God delivered the reformation 117from them, and no man contributed more to this deliverance than Calvin did. A skilful and trustworthy pilot, he saved the ship. He had, doubtless, some formidable conflicts with those proud spirits; but the truth won the day. He provoked in the Roman camp spite and hate against himself which have never been quelled. But evangelical truth has held its ground, and is at this day making the conquest of the world. When a healthful wind blows over a sickly land, and drives away the poisonous exhalations, there will sometimes be seen, it is true, after the passage of the wind, some shattered branches strown here and there upon the ground; but the air has been purified and life restored to the people.

It is generally imagined that the doctrines of Calvin were of an extreme and intolerant character; but, in fact, they were moderate, mediating, and conciliatory. He took a position between two extremes, and established the truth. Of all the teachers of the reformation, Zwinglius is the one who pushed furthest the doctrine of election; for, in his view, election is the cause of salvation, while faith is nothing more than its sign.^[209] Calvin, in opposition to Zwinglius, places the cause of salvation in the faith of the heart. He teaches that ‘the will of man must be aroused to seek after the good and to surrender itself to it;’ and, as we have already seen, he declares that those who ‘to be assured of their election enter into the eternal counsel of God plunge into a deadly abyss.’ But if Zwinglius was at one extreme, the semi-Pelagians, some of whom were outside the pale of Rome, were at the other, and attributed to the natural will an importance in the work of salvation which enfeebled the grace of God. Calvin opposes their error, and says ‘that man is not impelled of his own good pleasure to seek Jesus Christ until he has been sought by him.’^[210] And he teaches, as Augustine did, that God begins his work in 118us, places it in the will of man, and, like a good rider, guides it at a proper pace, urges it on when it is too backward, holds it back when it is too eager, and checks it if too much given to skirmishing. Nowhere does the mediating character of Calvin appear more distinctly than in his view of the Lord’s Supper. We have seen this, and it is needless to repeat it. We refrain likewise from giving other instances which forcibly exhibit the mediating, moderating, conciliatory character of Calvin.^[211]

If Calvin was everywhere to be found, at least by his influence, at the head of the armies which contended with Rome, he was also to be found everywhere preaching the brotherhood and the unity of all evangelical Christians. He was united in the closest friendship with Farel, minister at Neuchâtel, and with Viret, minister at Lausanne; and he wrote to them, ‘By our union the children of God are gathered into one flock of Jesus Christ, and are even united in his body.’^[212] He soon endeavored to draw into this union, into this body, not only the churches of Reformed France, but also those of German Switzerland, of Germany, the Netherlands, England, and other countries. The aim of his life and his chief desire was to see all of them included in one great network of unity. ‘For this end,’ said he with heroic energy, ‘I should not shrink from crossing ten seas, if that were needful.’^[213] He succeeded, at least in the most important part of his aim; for if it was not possible to establish an external unity between the various churches, which was not his object, there is at this time an internal, spiritual unity between all those who love Jesus Christ and keep his word.

119In the procession of the ages there is one epoch which reminds us of the moment when the sun rises and pours out his rays over the earth to guide men in their goings. It is that epoch at which the day-star from on high, Jesus Christ, the light of the world, appeared, and left behind him in his Word a luminary intended to shed light and life into the minds of men; but the natural darkness of man’s heart easily rises around and obscures it, even if it cannot wholly extinguish it. Since that time there have been other epochs of secondary importance, in which God has rekindled the waning light of heavenly doctrine, and has restored its pristine brightness for the salvation of the world. Of these secondary epochs the Reformation is that which has exerted the most powerful and most lasting influence in enlightening and in converting men, and in giving to man and the world a new life and new activity. No man had a greater share in this than Calvin; not, indeed, in the first impulse; that was Luther’s alone; but in the happy influence which it has had on human society in the two great spheres of spiritual and temporal things. To convince ourselves of this, nothing more is necessary than to glance at those countries in which this influence of the great reformer prevails, and which generally present a contrast to those in which the pope has prevailed. We know how many enemies Calvin had, and we confess that there were shadows in his life, as there are in the life of every human being; but we have an immovable conviction that the truths which he announced with incomparable purity and force are the mightiest remedy for the decay of the individual and the nation, and that they alone can communicate to a people the light and the life adapted to raise them from their weakness and to strengthen their steps in the paths of justice, liberty, and moral greatness.

CHAPTER I.
THE AWAKING OF DENMARK.
(1515-1525.)

The Scandinavians, men of the North or Northmen, who inhabited the three countries, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, embraced the Reformation at the same time. In each of these lands it had its own roots, but it came to them essentially from Germany, the only European nation with which their inhabitants had frequent intercourse.

A chief named Odin, whose history is confused with fables, appeared in Europe about the time of the Christian era. Mounted on an eight-footed horse, carrying a lance in his hand, and having on his shoulders two ravens who served him as messengers, he advanced at the head of a people whom he led out of the interior of Asia. His descendants were kings of the Goths and the Cimbri. For himself, he became the god of these nations, the father of gods, and the object of a senseless and sanguinary worship.

A Christian man named Anschar, as much given to kindness as Odin had been to carnage, as capable of inspiring love as the father of Thor had been of exciting terror, was, in the ninth century, the apostle of Scandinavia. 121Towards the close of the fourteenth century the three kingdoms were united by the treaty known as the Union of Calmar.

The Scandinavians endowed, like the Germans, with deep affections have an intellect perhaps not so rich as theirs, but they possess greater energy. There seemed to be little probability that these countries would receive the Reformation. The clergy were powerful, and the nobility most commonly followed the leading of the priests; but the people, without any violent action, without any abrupt movements or passionate speeches, were to pronounce finally and decisively for the truth and for freedom. It was in the hearts of the sons of the soil and the dwellers on the sea coasts, that the love of the Gospel began to spring up in the sixteenth century.

The island of Fionia, situated in the centre of the Danish States, between the continent of Jutland and the island of Zealand, is a green and wooded country, full of freshness, radiant with beauty, generally bordered with picturesque rocks cut out by the sea, the fiords of which run up far into the land. On one of these inlets, to the north-east of the Great Belt, stands the village of Kiertminde. At the end of the fifteenth century there was living in this village a poor farmer named Tausen, and to him was born, in 1494, a son who was named John. The child used to play on the shores of the Great Belt, where the first objects that attracted his notice were the sea and its vast expanse, the waves running in to break upon the shore, the boats of the fishermen, the distant ships, the abysses and the storms. His father was poor, and John, from an early age, assisted him in his labors; he accompanied him to the hop plantations, or leaped with him into the fishing-boat, braving the waves. As it was customary for every one to make his own garments, his furniture and his tools, the boy learnt a little of every thing. But there was an intelligence in him which seemed to mark him out for a higher calling than that of 122laborer or fisherman. His father and mother often talked of this; but they were grieved to think that they were unable, on account of their poverty, to give their son a liberal education.^[214]

However, the spirit which God gives a child often overcomes the greatest obstacles. The men who are self-made without assistance from others are usually those who exert the most powerful influence on their contemporaries. In John Tausen there was a strong bent for study;^[215] and God never wills the end without providing the means. At the distance of five or six miles from the village was Odensee, an ancient town of which Odin was the reputed founder, and which at least bore his name; and in this town was a school attached to the cathedral. John was placed here by his parents; and being poor, like Luther, he gained his living like him, by singing with other boys from door to door before the houses of the rich folk of the town. He soon became distinguished among the scholars; and some years later, one Knud Rud, a holder of a fief of the crown, being in want of a tutor, took him into his family.^[216]

The office of a teacher did not satisfy the lofty aspirations of Tausen. Theology, which concerns itself with God and with the destination of man, appeared to him to be above all the other sciences. He had also another reason for paying attention to it. The love for heavenly good was not yet kindled in his soul, but he was already anxious to hold a good position in the world. The clergy and the nobility were the only influential classes in Denmark; and, as Tausen was not of the noble class, he would fain be at least a priest. There was, in his neighborhood, 123at Antwerskov, a monastery of the Johannites, one of the richest in the kingdom. The prior Eskill, was not only a powerful prelate, but also perpetual counsellor of the crown. Tausen, impelled by ambition, begged for admission into this monastery, and he took his vows there in 1515. He was at this time twenty-one years of age, the same age as Luther when he entered the cloister. The Johannites and the Augustines followed the same rule. Tausen at once displayed intense eagerness to increase his knowledge, and especially to fit himself for preaching. He was a born preacher; he felt himself destined for public discourse. Aware of its importance in the church, he often exercised himself in preaching. There was pith in his discourses, and the prior, who was delighted to hear him, liked to think that this young orator would one day make his monastery illustrious. But a future of an altogether different character was in store for Tausen. He had a gift, but this gift was to be of service in raising up the church outside the pale of Roman Catholicism.

The studies to which the young man applied himself with a good conscience and without hypocrisy led him involuntarily to the recognition of various errors in the Romish doctrine; and his moral sense was at the same time offended by the empty babble and the corruption of the monks. In a little while other lights in addition to those of reading and reflection began to shine upon him. A new world, and one which diffused a brightness far and wide, was at this time created in Germany. Ships were frequently arriving from Lübeck in the ports of Fionia and Zealand, bringing strange tidings. The merchants who brought in these vessels told of a monk belonging to the same rule as Tausen, a man of rare moral purity, who was proclaiming with power a living and regenerative faith. A quickening breath proceeding from Saxony in this way touched the islands of Scandinavia. It imparted a new impulse to the susceptible, generous, and ambitious soul of Tausen. Conscious that he was surrounded 124by darkness he began to long after those regions of Germany which appeared to him to be illuminated with a living and divine light. He made known his wish to the prior; and the latter, believing that a residence in a foreign land would make his young friend more capable of adding reputation to his order; gave him the permission which he asked for, and added that he would himself pay the expenses of the journey out of the revenues of the monastery. ‘You may,’ said he, ‘attend a university, one only being excepted, that of Wittenberg.’^[217] Louvain was recommended to him, a university distinguished for its attachment to the Roman doctrine.

Tausen set out in 1517, a year memorable for the beginning of the Reformation, and betook himself to Louvain, cherishing the hope that some sparks from Wittenberg might have fallen there: but he found nothing but darkness. He pined for air, he could not breathe, and, anxious to be nearer to the town from which the light proceeded, he went to Cologne. But there too, as at Louvain, he found nothing but idle questionings of a barren scholasticism. Sick of these trifles, these inanities,^[218] he felt a need more and more pressing of a pure doctrine and of solid studies. The works of Luther which found their way to Cologne were read there with as much eagerness as are the bulletins from a great army during a war. Tausen devoured them with the utmost eagerness. One day it was the ‘Asterisks,’ another it was the ‘Resolutions,’ a third, the discourse on ‘Excommunication,’ and then others besides. When he had done reading he would close the book with reverence, and think within himself, ‘Oh, what would it be to hear him myself!’ He was drawn by two opposing forces. The strict prohibition of his prior held him back; the living word of Luther was calling him. Should he go or not? His soul was 125agitated by a violent struggle. Should he choose night or day? Is it not written in the Scriptures that a man must be ready to sell all that he has that he may buy the truth? He no longer hesitated; and, disregarding the rash promise which he had made, he left the banks of the Rhine, in 1519, and betook himself to Wittenberg. He heard Luther, he heard Melanchthon; he was at Wittenberg at the time of the appearance of the ‘Appeal to the German Nobility;’ he was there when Luther burnt the pope’s bulls, and when the reformer set out for Worms to make his appearance before Charles V. The young Scandinavian, finding in the Gospel the truth and the peace which he had been so earnestly seeking, embraced with all his heart the cause of the Reformation. In October, 1521, he quitted Saxony and returned to his monastery, determined to diffuse in his native land the light which he had found at Wittenberg.^[219]

Four years had elapsed since his departure, and there was a new state of things in Denmark. Luther’s writings had reached Copenhagen, and had been read there with avidity. Above all, Tausen found in his own country two men who seemed to be called to prepare the work of the Reformation. One of these men was Paul Eliæ, a native of Holland,^[220] prior of a Carmelite monastery recently founded, the members of which were in general enlightened men who had some degree of sympathy with Luther. The other was a young nobleman, not intended for theology, named Peter Petit of Rosefontaine. He had already seen and heard Luther and Melanchthon before Tausen; and on his return to Copenhagen in 1519 he had determined to avail himself of all his family and social relations to influence other minds and gain them to the side of reform. The most important of the persons 126whom he persuaded to favor the Gospel was the King of Denmark himself.^[221]

This prince, Christian II., who succeeded to the throne in 1513, at the age of thirty-two, as sovereign of the three Scandinavian kingdoms, was a man of extraordinary character. Endowed with a penetrating glance, he distinctly recognized the defects of the constitution of his realm, and the errors of his age; and he was capable of applying a remedy to them with a firm and bold hand. To lessen the oppressive power of the nobility and the clergy, to raise the condition of the townsmen and the peasantry, were the objects of his reign. But it must be confessed that self-interest was the mainspring of this enterprise. A friend to knowledge, to the sciences, to agriculture, commerce, and industry, he nevertheless took after his barbarian ancestors. He was cruel, and would go headlong to extremities. While still a youth, the extraordinary bodily exercises to which he devoted himself alarmed his masters; and his nightly practices, his excesses of every kind, were the talk among all classes. At a later time his swiftness of procedure and his faculty of command in war were admirable; and no less so in peace his power to secure obedience. When the health of his father began to fail, he gave proof of a power of attention to affairs of government of which no one had thought him capable. But this man of the North always retained the fierce temper of a savage, nor did he ever learn to subdue the evil dispositions which actuated him. In his fits of violence he had no regard for age, for virtue, or for greatness; and at the very time that he was contending against the despotism of castes, he was himself the greatest despot of all.^[222]

127Christian II., perceiving that in order to increase the power of the Scandinavian kingdom it was necessary to form great alliances, sought and obtained the hand of Isabella, sister of the Emperor Charles V. The princess, then fifteen years of age, arrived at Copenhagen in August, 1518, bringing with her a dower of 300,000 florins. The honors which she received on her entry into the capital were too much for her strength. While a bishop was delivering before her an interminable discourse, she turned pale, tottered, and fainted away, the first of her ladies in waiting catching her in her arms. The king showed great respect for her; but in the midst of royal fêtes and pomp, a sharp thorn of sorrow pierced the soul of the daughter of the Cæsars.

During a residence at Bergen, in Norway, of which kingdom he had been viceroy, Christian had made the acquaintance of a young and beautiful Dutchwoman, named Dyveke, whose mother Sigbrit kept a hostelry. The prince conceived a violent passion for the girl, and thenceforth lived with her. She died in 1517; but her mother, a proud, tyrannical, and angry woman, who had a great mastery over other minds and who was competent even to give prudent counsel in affairs of state, retained the favor of the prince after her daughter’s death. He had more consideration for her than for any one else; and when the king was at her house the greatest lords and most esteemed ministers were compelled to wait before her door, exposed to rain or snow, till the time came for them to be admitted. The cold policy of which she made avowal, led this fierce prince into grave errors and terrible deeds.^[223]

A commissioner of the pope, named Arcimbold, having, in 1517, obtained from the king by dint of much flattery a license for the sale of indulgences to the peoples of the North, had set out his wares in front of the principal 128churches. ‘By the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ,’ said he, ‘and of our holy father the pope, I absolve you from all the sins which you have committed, however enormous they may be; and I restore you to the purity and the innocence which you possessed at the time of your baptism, in order that at your death the gates of heaven may be opened to you.’^[224] The papal commissioner, not satisfied with laying hold of the money of the king’s subjects, was anxious also to gain the favor of the king. He managed the matter so craftily that he succeeded. Christian disclosed to him his projects and the most hidden secrets of his government, in the hope that either the legate or the pope himself would favor his designs.

The king, indeed, soon found himself in grave difficulties. Sweden violated the union of Calmar and declared itself independent of Denmark; and Troll, the archbishop of Upsala, for endeavoring to uphold the Danish suzerainty, was imprisoned by the Swedes. The pope was angry and came to the help of Christian by laying the country under an interdict. At the same time the king defeated the Swedes. It is not our business to enter into the details of this struggle; we must limit ourselves to the narration of the frightful crime by which this prince sealed his triumph.

In November, 1520, Christian II., the conqueror of his subjects, was to be crowned at Stockholm. The insurrection in Sweden had greatly irritated him; his pride had been exasperated by it, and the violent excitement of his temper had not been allayed. He was bent on a signal and cruel act of vengeance, but he dissembled his wrath and let no one know his scheme. The prelates, nobles, councillors, and other notables of Sweden, on being invited to the ceremony, perceived that the coronation would be performed with very remarkable solemnity. The creatures of the king said that it was to be terrible.

129Christian had for his adviser and confessor a kinsman of Sigbrit, a fellow who had been a barber; and this man, knowing his master well, was always suggesting to him that if he meant to be really king of Sweden he must get rid of all the Swedish leading men. The prince, leaning on the pope’s bull which had thundered the interdict over the whole kingdom and all its inhabitants, undertook to be the arm of the Roman pontiff, and resolved to indulge without restraint his barbarous passions. He invited to the castle about a hundred nobles, prelates, and councillors, received them with gracious smiles, embraced them, deluded them with vain promises and false hopes, and desired that three days should be dedicated to all kinds of amusement. Brooding all the time on frightful schemes, he chatted, laughed, and jested with his guests; and these were charmed with the amiability of a prince whose malice they had been taught to dread. Suddenly, on November 7, all was changed. The fêtes ceased, the musicians and the buffoons disappeared, and their places were taken by archers. A tribunal was set up. Archbishop Troll, as had been arranged with the king, came forward boldly as accuser of the lords and other Swedes who had driven him from his archiepiscopal see. The king immediately constituted a court of justice, of which he took care that none should be members but enemies of the accused. The judges, who hardly knew what crime they had to punish, got over the business by declaring heretics the sacrilegious men who had dared to imprison a bishop. Now heresy was a capital crime. The next day, November 8, in the morning, the gates of the town and the doors of all the houses were closed. The streets were filled with soldiers and cannon; and, at noon, the prisoners, surrounded with guards, slowly and sadly descended from the castle. The report rapidly ran through the whole town that the bishops, the nobles, and the councillors who had been guests of the king and had been so magnificently entertained, were being taken to 130the great square and were going to be put to death there. In a little while the square was strewn with the dead bodies of the most distinguished nobles and prelates of Sweden.^[225]

There seemed to be little chance of such a king ever being a favorer of the Reformation. Nevertheless, the enterprise undertaken by Luther, and the changes in states which resulted from it, struck him and excited his interest. He thought that a religious reform would restrict the power of the bishops, that the senate would be weakened by their exclusion from it, and that the crown demesnes would be the richer. At the same time his powerful understanding was impressed with the errors of Rome and the imposing truth of the Gospel.

Nephew by the mother’s side of the elector Frederick of Saxony, the king took an interest in a religious movement which had the sanction of that illustrious prince. This strange man imagined that without separating from Rome he could introduce into his own country the evangelical doctrines. He determined to trust to the pope to rid him of the most powerful of his subjects, and to Luther to instruct the rest. He therefore wrote to his uncle and begged him to send some teacher competent to purify religion, which was corrupted by the gross indolence of the priests.^[226] The elector forwarded this request to the theologians of Wittenberg, who nominated Martin Reinhard, a master of arts, from the diocese of Wurzburg, on the recommendation, as it appears, of Carlstadt.

Reinhard, who seems to have somewhat resembled Carlstadt in his unsteady and restless temper, arrived at Copenhagen in December, 1520.^[227] The king assigned him the 131church of St. Nicholas to preach in. The inhabitants of Copenhagen, eager to become acquainted with the new doctrine, flocked in crowds to the church. But the orator spoke German, and his hearers knew nothing but Danish. He appealed therefore to Professor Eliæ, who agreed to translate his discourses. Master Martin, vexed at finding that he was not understood, tried to make up for what was wanting by loudness of voice and frequent and violent gestures.^[228] The astonished hearers understood nothing, but wonderingly followed with their eyes those hurried movements of the arms, the hands, the head, and the whole body. The priests who were casting about for some means of damaging the foreigner, caught at this circumstance, began to mock this ridiculous gesticulation, and stirred up the people against the German orator. Consequently, when he entered the church, he was received with sarcasm, with grimaces, and almost with hootings.^[229] The clergy resolved to do even more. There was at Copenhagen a fellow notorious for his cleverness in mimicking in an amusing way any body’s air and actions and speech. The canons of St. Mary prevailed on him by a large reward, and engaged him regularly to attend the preaching of Martin Reinhard, to study his gestures, the expression of his features, and the intonations of his voice. In a short time this fellow succeeded in imitating the accent, the voice, the gestures of Reinhard. Henceforth the burlesque mimic became an indispensable guest at all banquets. He used to appear on these occasions in a costume like that of the doctor; grave salutations were made to him, and he was called Master Martin. He delivered the most high-flown speeches on the most profane topics, and accompanied them with gestures so successful that, on seeing and hearing the caricature, you seemed to see and hear the master of arts 132himself.^[230] He threw out his arms right and left, upward and downward, and filled the air with the piercing or prolonged tones of the orator. At table, they gorged him with meats and wine, in order to make him more extravagant still. He was taken from quarter to quarter, and from street to street, and repeated everywhere his comic representations. It was the time of the Carnival, when nothing was cared for but buffoonery, and the people responded to the declamations of the mimic by great bursts of laughter. ‘This was done,’ adds the chronicle, ‘for the purpose of extinguishing the light of the Gospel which God himself had kindled.’

This was not enough for the priests; they must get a stop put to sermons which, in spite of their strange delivery, contained much truth. A beginning was made by depriving Reinhard of his interpreter. The bishops of Roschild and Aarhuus offered to Eliæ a canonry at Odensee. The latter, wishing for nothing better than to make his escape from a business which was becoming ridiculous, accepted it. The people called him the weathercock priest. Reinhard, thus compelled to relinquish preaching, maintained in Latin some theses on the doctrines of the Reformation. Eliæ, at the instigation of the bishop of Aarhuus, completely changed sides and attacked the messenger of Melanchthon and Luther.^[231] At the same time, the University required that the writings of the reformers should be proscribed. The king had certainly not been happy at his game. When the awakening of a people is in question, it is not for royal chanceries to undertake it. There is a head of the church, Jesus Christ, to whom this work belongs, and he had 133chosen for it the son of a peasant of Kiertminde and other men like him.

The king, however, was in no humor to tolerate the opposition of bishops whose influence he had set himself to destroy. He profited by the lesson he had received. Finding that Reinhard was not the man that he wanted, the king sent him back to Saxony, requiring him to take an invitation from himself to the great reformer, whose position in Germany, Christian thought, the edict of the diet of Worms must have made untenable. If Luther could not come, said the king, he must send Carlstadt.

Reinhard, who reached Wittenberg at the beginning of March, did not fail to push himself into notice. He related to Luther what had taken place at Copenhagen, or at least such portions of the story as were favorable to himself and to his cause. It gave great joy to the reformer. ‘The king of Denmark,’ he wrote to Spalatin (March 7), ‘has forbidden the university to condemn my writings and is sharply pressing the papists.’^[232] Luther did not accept the king’s offer. His place was at Wittenberg. Would not removing him from Germany be taking him from Europe and from the work for which he had been chosen? At the most, he thought that if in some dark hour the danger resulting from the edict of Worms became too urgent, Denmark might be an asylum for him. As for the turbulent Carlstadt, he was quite ready, and the adventure pleased him. He took his passports and set out.

While awaiting the arrival of the Wittenberg doctors, Christian, a prince at once civilized and savage, a murderer and a lover of literature, a despot, a tyrant, and 134nevertheless the author of laws really liberal, published a code which did him great credit. He felt the necessity of reforming the clergy; he wished to imbue the ecclesiastics with patriarchal morality, and to suppress the feudal and often corrupt morality which characterized them. A third part of the land belonged to them, and they were incessantly trying to add to their possessions. All the bishops had strong castles and a body of guards in attendance on their persons. The archbishop of Lund was usually accompanied by a hundred and thirty knights, and the other prelates had almost as many. The king forbade that more than twenty mounted guards should escort the archbishop, and that the bishops should not have more than twelve or fourteen domestics.^[233] Then, coming to moral order, Christian said—‘No prelate or priest may acquire any lands unless he follow the doctrine of St. Paul (1 Tim. iii.), unless he take a wife and live like his ancestors in the holy state of marriage.’ By suppressing celibacy, the king not only put an end to great licentiousness, but he gave the death-blow to the Romish hierarchy.

This law is the more remarkable because it preceded by four years the declaration of Luther against celibacy. Another ordinance displayed the wisdom, and we might almost say the humanity of the king. The bishops had appropriated the right of wreck, so that whenever a ship foundered, their men took possession of all articles which the sea cast up on the shore, and sometimes put the shipwrecked men to death, lest they should reclaim their property. The king withdrew this right from them. The bishops complained. ‘I will allow nothing,’ said the king, ‘which is contrary to the law of God as it is written in the Holy Scriptures.’ ‘They contain no law about waifs and wrecks,’ said a bishop sharply. ‘What then,’ replied Christian, ‘is the meaning 135of the sixth and eighth commandments—“Thou shalt not kill,” “Thou shalt not steal”?‘^[234]

At this crisis, Carlstadt arrived in Denmark. He was not the man that was wanted. A lover of innovation, and rash in his proceedings, he had by no means the moderation essential for reformers. He was honorably received, and a grand banquet was given him. At table, he was thrown off his guard, he talked a good deal and got excited, and when heated with the feast he violently attacked the doctrine of transubstantiation.^[235] This outburst against the fundamental doctrine of Roman Catholicism gave offence even to some of the friends of reform. The bishops took advantage of it. ‘The master,’ they said, ‘is no better than the disciple (Reinhard).’ The imprudent colleague of Luther was politely sent back to Wittenberg.

The king, who was at this time absent from Copenhagen, was however no stranger to the disgrace of this imprudent and noisy Wittenberg doctor. Christian had gone into the Netherlands, to meet his brother-in-law Charles the Fifth, for the purpose of treating with him of important matters. He easily changed his mind, as passionate men generally do; and amidst the splendor of the imperial court, he yielded to the influence of the new atmosphere which surrounded him. He wished the emperor to concede to him, as king of Denmark, the right of conferring the duchy of Holstein as a fief. The court bishops, on their side, implored Charles to make the expulsion of the Lutheran doctors the price of this favor. Christian, aware of all that he had to fear from the Pope, from Sweden, and even from a great number of the Danes, was anxious to conciliate the emperor that he might be able to face all his enemies. He therefore complied with the requirements of Charles. Carlstadt, as we 136have seen, was sent away from Denmark, and Reinhard never returned.

For the reformation of Denmark Danes were required. Soon after the departure of Carlstadt, Tausen requested permission to teach at the university of Copenhagen, and he did actually lecture there on theology.^[236] But no man could then carry a bright lamp without attempts being made to extinguish it. The teaching of the son of the peasant of Fionia aroused opposition; the professor was recalled by his prior, and remained for two years in his convent. Time was thus given him in his retirement to meditate; and while he was strengthening himself in the faith, great events were about to prepare the way for the Reformation.

The concessions which Christian made to the enemies of the evangelical doctrines did not bring him any advantage. A violent storm at once broke out on all sides against the prince and threatened to overthrow him. Sweden revolted against him. Duke Frederick, his uncle, angry that his nephew wanted to make Holstein a fief of Denmark, entered into an alliance with the powerful city of Lübeck to fight against him. The prelates, also, and the nobles of Denmark, seeing that Christian was bent upon ruining them, formed a resolution to get rid of him. The blind docility with which Christian followed the counsels of Sigbrit provoked the grandees of the kingdom. Nothing was done except by the advice of this woman of very low origin. The king conferred benefits only on her favorites; and even political negotiations were discussed in her presence and left in her hands.

The pride, the tyranny, and the passions of this old sorceress—for such was she called—excited the indignation of all classes of society. The people themselves 137were hostile to her, and many among the middle classes were on her account hostile to the king.

The prelates and the barons resolved to have recourse to extreme measures. They addressed to Christian (January 20, 1523) a letter by which they revoked the powers with which he had been invested on the day of his coronation. At the same time, they offered the crown of Denmark to the duke of Holstein.^[237] By these measures the monarch was thrown into a state of unparalleled perplexity. All, however, was not lost. He might recall the troops which he had in Sweden; he might then appeal to the Danish people, among whom he still had many partisans, and might maintain himself in Copenhagen until his allies, either the king of England or his brother-in-law the emperor, should come to his aid. But the blow which had fallen upon him was altogether unexpected. He lost his presence of mind; his courage, his pride and his energies were crushed. This terrible despot gave way and humbled himself. Instead of offering resistance to the States of the kingdom, he threw himself at their feet and pledged himself thenceforth to govern according to their advice. He was willing to do any thing to give them satisfaction. He promised to have masses said for the souls of those whom he had unjustly put to death; he undertook even to make a pilgrimage to Rome. But the nobility and the priests were inexorable; and the pope to whom he appealed for help turned a deaf ear to him. Then Christian lost his head; one might have thought that a waterspout had fallen and thrown him to the ground. He caused a score of ships to be fitted out; hastily collected the crown jewels, his gold, his archives, and every thing which he most highly valued, and prepared for flight with the queen, his children, the archbishop of Lund, and a few faithful attendants. His greatest anxiety was to find means of taking Sigbrit along with him. At all cost he was determined not to part with his adviser; 138and the hatred which the people bore to this woman was so great that if she had been seen she would have been torn to pieces. Christian therefore had one of his chests made ready, and in this the old woman was laid. The chest was carefully closed, and the unhappy creature was thus carried on board like a piece of luggage. On the 14th April, 1523, the king weighed anchor; but no sooner had he put to sea than his fleet was scattered by a storm.^[238]

Christian nevertheless succeeded in reaching the Netherlands, and he hastened immediately to the emperor to implore his aid. Nor did he confine himself to soliciting this prince, but applied to all the powers and conjured them to come forward to assist him. Charles the Fifth agreed to write to Duke Frederick; but his letters remained without effect. At the same time he refused to furnish the king with the troops which he asked for. The unfortunate monarch now appealed to Henry VIII., who made him magnificent promises, but kept none of them. Christian in his distress betook himself to his brother-in-law, the elector of Brandenburg, and next to his uncle, the elector of Saxony. As their efforts of mediation all came to nothing, Christian assembled a small army and with it advanced into Holstein. But he had no money to pay his men, and consequently the greater part of them deserted him; and the rest demanded their pay with threats. Under cover of night the unhappy prince took flight.^[239]

Christian, deserted by men, appeared now to turn to the Gospel. He became one of the hearers of Luther,^[240] and told every one that he had never heard the truth preached in such a fashion; and that thenceforth, with 139God’s help, he would bear his trial more patiently.^[241] Must we believe that these declarations were mere hypocrisy? May we not rather suppose that in the soul of Christian there were two natures; the one full of rudeness and violence, the other susceptible of pious feeling; and that he passed easily from one to another? His heart, opened by adversity, appears at this time to have received with joy the truths of the Gospel. When the elector of Brandenburg endeavored to persuade him to return to the Roman doctrine, he replied—‘Rather lose forever my three kingdoms than abandon the faith and the cause of Luther.’ But in speaking thus Christian was deceiving himself. Selfishness was the basis of his character, and he was always ready to do honor to the pope when he saw any hope of the pontiff’s aid in reinstating him on the throne.^[242]

There were in his own family more faithful witnesses to the truth. His sister, the wife of the elector of Brandenburg, was devoted to the Gospel, and being persecuted by her husband was compelled to take refuge in Saxony. Christian’s wife, Queen Isabella, herself a sister of Charles the Fifth, having gone to Nürnberg for the purpose of asking in behalf of her husband the assistance of her brother Ferdinand, received in that town the communion at the hands of the evangelical Osiander. When the archduke heard of it, he said to her very angrily that he no longer owned her as his sister. ‘Even if you disown me,’ bravely replied the sister of Charles the Fifth, ‘I will not on that account disown the Word of God.’ This princess died in the following year (1526), in the Netherlands, professing to the last a purely evangelical faith.^[243] She partook of the body and the blood of Christ, according to the institution of the Saviour, although the 140grandees who were about her put forth all their efforts to get her to accept the rites of the papacy. This Christian decision of character in a sister of the emperor, in a country in which the papal system in its strictest shape prevailed, greatly troubled her connections and appeared to them a monstrous thing. The imperial family could not possibly allow it to be thought that one of its members had died a heretic. When the queen had lost all consciousness, a priest by order of his superiors approached her and administered to her extreme unction, just as he might have done to a corpse. Every body understood that this proceeding, so grave in appearance, was a mere piece of mimicry. The faith of the dying queen was everywhere known and gladdened the friends of the Gospel. ‘Christ,’ said Luther, ‘wished for once to have a queen in heaven.’^[244] Isabella was not the last.

Nevertheless, the triumph of the prelatical and aristocratic party in Denmark seemed to ensure the final ruin of the evangelical cause. No one doubted that the abuses of the papacy and of feudalism would be confirmed for the future. But there is a power which watches over the destinies of the Christian religion, and which when this appears to be buried in the depth of the abysses brings it forth again with glory. God lifts up what men cast down.

CHAPTER II.
A REFORMATION ESTABLISHED UNDER THE REIGN OF LIBERTY.
(1524-1527.)

Christian I. of Denmark, the first king of the house of Oldenburg, grandfather of Christian II., had left two sons, John and Frederick. John succeeded him in the sovereignty of the three kingdoms. Frederick, for whom 141the queen Dorothea, wife of Christian I., felt a warm predilection, had not the genius of his nephew Christian II. He was destitute of the intelligence which embraced at once so many objects, the swift and accurate glance, and the indefatigable activity which distinguished that strange monarch. Frederick had a tranquil soul, a prudent and moderate temper, a serenity and liveliness which charmed his mother and his connections, but which were not qualifications sufficient for a king. Now, if he did not possess the good qualities of his nephew, he was at the same time without his cruelty or his violence; or at least he showed these only towards that unfortunate prince. The queen Dorothea had a passionate longing to give a throne to her favorite son, and urged her husband to assign to him Holstein and Schleswig. Christian yielded to her wishes and gave the sovereignty of these duchies to her second son, then of the age of eleven. He did this only by word of mouth, having left no will.^[245] The inhabitants of these provinces were satisfied, preferring a sovereign of their own to dependence on the king of the three northern realms.

It was otherwise with King John. As he was unwilling to renounce these provinces, he resolved to get his brother to enter the Church. He therefore sent him to study at Cologne and procured him a canonry in that town. But Frederick was not inclined for this. The barrenness of the scholastic theology disgusted him and the Reformation attracted him. Instigated by the queen, his mother, he quitted Cologne, renouncing his canonry, his office, his prebend, his breviary, and his easy life. He preferred a crown, even with its toils and weariness, and demanded of his brother, the king, his portion of the duchies, which, said he, ought at least to be divided between them. The king consented. Frederick settled in Holstein and ruled his subjects in peace. He held intercourse with some disciples of Luther, took an interest in 142their evangelical labors, and gave them permission to diffuse the doctrine of the Reformation among the Cimbri.^[246]

His brother being dead, and his nephew Christian having succeeded to the three Scandinavian kingdoms, the peaceful Frederick found himself called to higher destinies. His gentleness was as widely known as his nephew’s violence. Could the Danes find a better king?

At the time of Christian’s misfortunes, the bishops of Jutland, as we have stated, actually offered the crown to Frederick. The Council of the Kingdom did the same and declared that if he rejected it they would invite a foreign prince. The duke, at this time fifty-two years of age, foresaw the anxieties and the struggles to which he was about to expose himself. Nevertheless, the kingdoms of his father were offered to him, and he could not bear the thought of seeing them pass to another dynasty. He therefore accepted the crown. Some portions of the kingdom, and particularly Copenhagen, remained in the power of the former king.

No sooner had Frederick received the crown than he tasted the bitterness of the golden cup which had just been offered him. The priests and the nobles required of him the maintenance and even the enlargement of the privileges of which Christian had intended to deprive them. Frederick had to promise ‘that he would never permit a heretic, whether a disciple of Luther or not, to preach or teach secretly or publicly doctrines contrary to the God of heaven or to the Roman Church,’ and to add ‘that if any were found in his kingdom he would deprive them of life and goods.’^[247] This was hard. Frederick inclined to the evangelical doctrines, and he knew that many of his subjects did the same. Should he forbid them? But the crown was only to be had at this price.

143Henry IV. paid dearer for Paris; he abandoned his creed and professed himself a Roman Catholic. Frederick meant to keep his faith; it is even possible that, full of confidence in the power of truth, he hoped to see it, in spite of the bishops, win the victory. However this might be, he confined himself, when writing to the Pope, to a brief announcement of his accession, without making any promise. Clement VII., offended at this silence, reminded him of the promise which he had made at the time of his election, adding a grain of flattery to his exhortations. ‘I am well acquainted,’ he said, ‘with that royal virtue of which you gave proof by avowing your resolution to persecute with fire and sword the heresy of Luther.’^[248] This was a thoroughly papal speech.

Frederick felt the difficulty of his position; and after a thorough investigation he came to a decision in favor of religious liberty. Must we suppose that he repented of the engagement which he had made? Did he believe that if a man has taken an oath to commit a crime (persecution assuredly would have been one), it is a sin to fulfil it? We cannot tell. Naturally circumspect and reflective, Frederick would require time to pass from the first doubts excited in him by the Romish doctrines to a firm belief in evangelical truth.

He could not all at once throw off convictions which were dear to him and accept contrary opinions. Believing, however, that it was no business of his to regulate matters of faith, he determined to hold the balance even, and in his capacity of king to lean neither to one side nor to the other. There were some points of resemblance between this prince and Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, who, though he did not immediately declare for the Reformation, allowed full liberty to Luther’s teaching. Christian’s uncle felt himself free to keep the promises 144which he had made to the nobles, and he thereby won their liking. He did not deprive the clergy of their pomp or their wealth; and with respect to the reformers and their disciples, instead of persecuting them with fire and sword as the Pope required him to do, he let them alone, and did them neither good nor harm. If the Reformation was to be established in Denmark, it would be so not by the power of the king, but by the power of God and of the people. The state would not interfere. Frederick as king, moreover, thus continued what he had begun as duke.

Before Frederick was seated on the throne of Denmark, the Reformation had begun in the duchies.^[249] Husum, a town situated on the coast of the North Sea, at a distance of six or seven leagues from Schleswig, had seen this light arise which was afterwards to make glad so many souls in these lands. The chapter of Husum was dependent on the cathedral church of Schleswig, in which twenty-four vicars discharged the functions of the idle or absent prebendaries. One of them, Herrmann Tast, awakened by the earliest sound of the Reformation, had seized the Bible and read the works of Luther; and about 1520 he publicly professed the truth which he had discovered. He gained over one of his colleagues. One of the principal men of the town, a learned man and the son of a natural daughter of Duke Frederick, took Tast under his protection, and assigned him a room in his own house in which he might set forth the riches which he had discovered. The number of his hearers increased to such an extent that, in 1522, he was obliged to hold his meetings in the open air, in the cemetery. He used to take his stand under a lime-tree, and begin by singing Luther’s psalm Eine feste Burg; and there, on that field of the dead, he proclaimed the words of the Son of God. Many of those who had heard them had received the new life. Tast did not long confine himself to preaching the 145Gospel at Husum, but began to visit the country districts, the towns and villages, diffusing the knowledge |Edict Of Toleration.| of the Saviour in all the country round. Many of the townsmen and the nobles believed. The old bishop of Schleswig, a tolerant man, and acquainted with the views of Frederick, winked at the progress of evangelical doctrine. Frederick, as soon as he became king, promulgated an edict by which religious liberty was formally established for the two opposing parties. Offering due homage to the sovereignty of God in matters of the soul, he suppressed in its presence his own kingly authority. ‘Let no one,’ said he, ‘do any injury to his neighbor in his estate, his honor, or his body, on account either of papist or Lutheran doctrine; but let every one act with respect to religion as his own conscience dictates and in such a manner that he may be able to give a good account to Almighty God.’^[250]

One work there was, however, essential to the progress of the Gospel, which the Danish clergy would not have allowed to be done. This was the translation and printing of the Holy Scriptures in the vulgar tongue. If Frederick had sanctioned it, he would have violated his neutrality. How to overcome this difficulty? It was got over in a surprising way. It was Frederick’s opponent, his terrible and unfortunate nephew, formerly the ally of the Pope, who accomplished this work, or at least who caused it to be done by those about him. Michelsen, the burgomaster of Malmoe, had followed the king in his disgrace, leaving behind him his wife, his daughter, and his property. The latter was confiscated. Christian II., who, since he heard Luther, was full of zeal for evangelical doctrine, and perhaps also saw that it was the most powerful weapon for the humiliation of his enemy, the Roman hierarchy, urged the ex-burgomaster, who had become his private secretary, to complete and to publish the Danish translation of the New Testament 146which was already began. The translators had made use of the Vulgate and of the translations of Erasmus and Luther. Luther’s, especially, had been followed by Michelsen in the translation of the apostolical epistles, with which he was entrusted. This Danish translation was printed at Leipzig in small quarto, in 1524, under the sanction and with the assistance of Christian; and it was sent into Denmark from one of the ports of the Netherlands, probably from Antwerp, whence likewise Tyndale’s English translation had gone forth. There were three prefaces; two of them were translated from Luther, and the third was written by Michelsen.

In this preface the ex-burgomaster did not spare the priests. The famous placards published in France, in 1534, were not more severe. Michelsen believed that in order to make known the Gospel of Christ it was necessary to destroy the power of the clergy. ‘These blasphemers,’ he said, ‘by publishing their anti-christian bulls and their ecclesiastical laws, have obscured the Holy Scriptures, and blinded the simple flock of Christ. With lying lips and hearts callous to the miseries of others, they have so preached to the people their useless verbiage that we have been unable to learn any thing except what their pretended sanctity deigned to tell us. But now God, in his unsearchable grace, has taken pity on our wretchedness, and has begun to reveal to his people his holy word, so that, as he had foretold by one of his prophets, their errors, their perfidy, and their tyranny shall be known to all the world.’^[251] At the same time Michelsen exhorted the Danes to make use of their rights and liberty in drawing at the very fountain-head of the truth.

It was a strange thing to see the two rival kings both 147favoring the Reformation, the bad man by his activity, the good by his neutrality.

The Danish clergy perceived the blow which was struck at them, and they endeavored to evade and to return it. They could no longer resort to force, for the liberal principles of Frederick were opposed to it. A man was therefore sought who could maintain the contest by speech and by writing. Such a man they thought they had found in Paul Eliæ. No one in Denmark was better acquainted with the Reformation than he was; he had for some time gone with it, and afterwards had abandoned it and been rewarded by the favor of the bishops. He was summoned from Jutland, where he then was, to Zealand; and he began at once to act and to preach against the Wittenberg doctrine. But people remembered his antecedents and they had no confidence in him. Instead, therefore, of attacking the friends of the Holy Scriptures, he was obliged to defend himself.^[252]

If it was a happy circumstance for the Reformation that the king remained neutral between the two religious parties, it was still much to be wished that he should attain to more decision in his faith and in his personal profession of the Gospel. A domestic event occurred to set him free from all fear and all embarrassment. His eldest son, named Christian like the last king, was a young man full of ardor, intelligence, activity and energy. Two or three years before, his father wishing him to see Germany, to reside at a foreign court, and to become better acquainted with the men and the movements of Europe, sent him (in 1520) to his uncle the elector of Brandenburg, appointing for his governor John Rantzau, a man distinguished for his knowledge and his extensive travels. Unfortunately the elector was one of the most violent adversaries of Luther. It might well be feared that the young prince would catch the air, the temper, and the tone of this court, filled as it was with prejudice 148against the Reformation. The very reverse happened. The severity of the elector and the blind hatred which the prince and his courtiers bore to the Reformation galled the young duke. In the following year his uncle took him with him to Worms, fancying that the condemnation of the heretic by the emperor and the diet would make a powerful impression on the young man. But when Luther spoke and courageously declared that he was ready to die rather than renounce his faith, Christian’s heart beat high and his enthusiastic soul was won to the cause which had such noble champions. This cause became still dearer to him when his uncle the elector joined with the bishops in demanding the violation of the safe-conduct given to Luther. His astonishment and indignation were at their height. Rantzau himself, who had seen the court of Rome, and who in the course of his travels had continual opportunities of making himself intimately acquainted with the corruption of the Church, was completely won over to the cause which was vanquished at Worms. In this town Christian formed an acquaintance with a young man, Peter Svave, who was studying at Wittenberg, and who by his own desire had accompanied Luther to the Diet, and was full of love for the Gospel. Christian obtained leave from his father to attach him to his person, and gave him his entire confidence. As soon as he returned to Holstein Christian declared himself openly for the Reformation. The warmth of his convictions, the eloquence of his faith, his decision of character, and the simplicity and affability of his manners, which won him all hearts, exerted a wholesome influence on the king. At the same time, the prudence, experience, and varied knowledge of Rantzau gave the monarch confidence in the work of which his son’s governor showed himself a zealous partisan.^[253]

Copenhagen was still in the hands of Christian II.; and Henry Gjoë was in command there, awaiting the succor 149necessary to enable him to hold his ground. Frederick sent his son to Zealand to press the surrender of the place; and he himself went to Nyborg, in the island of Fionia. Gjoë, finding that further resistance was useless, offered to capitulate. It was agreed that Copenhagen should be given up to King Frederick on the 6th February (1524), and that the garrison should withdraw to any place which it might choose. The young duke Christian signed these articles in the name of the king his father, and had the good news immediately communicated to him. Ten days after the surrender of the capital, on the 16th February, the king made his entry, to the great joy of the inhabitants, who were wearied with an eight months’ siege. Frederick, without making any attack on the dominant Church, at once avowed frankly and fearlessly the evangelical faith. One man of high standing, the councillor of the kingdom, Magnus Gjoë, had embraced the Reformation, and even had a minister in his own house. The king went to the modest meeting which was held there and received the Lord’s Supper in both kinds. He dispensed with all the trivial practices imposed by Rome; and the nobles of Holstein who formed part of his suite and many Danish lords followed his example. The clergy day by day lost the respect which they had enjoyed; and a large number of persons deserted the confessional, sought pardon of God alone, and ceased from their evil ways.^[254]

The Danes had been as much offended as the Germans by the quackery of indulgences. They had opened their eyes and condemned this traffic and the religion which carried it on; but they had remained silent. This silence, however, was not that of indifference. There was perhaps in these northern nations more slowness than in those of the south; but they made up for this defect by greater reflectiveness, deeper convictions and stronger 150characters. Indignant that the court of Rome should look on them as a crowd of people born blind, doomed by their very nature to perpetual darkness, they were ere long to awake and proclaim their liberation.

It was Tausen who gave the signal for this awakening. He was all this time in the monastery of Antwerskow. His piety and his virtues diffused light there in the midst of the darkness of the age; but most of the monks, carried away by their vices and their hatred of the Gospel, endeavored to extinguish it. In vain he sought to lead them to the truth by kindly speech and by patient setting forth of the Gospel. He tried to catch them separately, to open to them the errors of the Romish religion and to show them how far they were removed from the way of salvation.^[255] These representations were very unwelcome to the monks. Tausen resolved to avail himself of the approaching festival of Easter solemnly to call his hearers to the faith, even at the risk of an explosion. He obtained leave of the prince to preach on Good Friday, March 25, 1524. The young Johannite entered the pulpit determined to utter on this occasion all his thought without any reserve prompted by worldly prudence. He pointed out to his hearers that man is powerless; that his good works and pretended satisfactions are poverty itself.^[256] He set forth the merits of Christ and all the greatness of this mystery; he urged them to condemn the depraved and profane life which they had hitherto lived, and to come to Christ who would cover them with his righteousness. The blow was struck.

This preaching gave rise to great excitement, and the audience were scandalized by a doctrine which appeared to them entirely new. All the monks, his superiors, blinded by papal superstition, thought only of how to 151get rid of such a heretic.^[257] The prior had hardly patience to wait for the end. He was indignant that a young man to whom he had shown so much kindness had the audacity publicly to profess the doctrines of the reformer; and he saw with alarm his convent falling under suspicion of Lutheranism. He determined therefore to get rid of such a dangerous guest. He summoned Tausen into his presence, and after censuring him for his fault told him that he was very desirous of not inflicting on him a penalty too severe, and would therefore confine himself to sending him to the second house of the order, at Viborg, which he could enter under the surveillance of the provost Peter Jansen, until he had retrieved his errors. Tausen set out for his place of exile.

Viborg, a very old town, is situated in the north of Jutland. The climate of the district is more inclement, the winds colder and more violent, the people more coarse and ignorant. The fiords with which the son of the peasant of Kiertminde had been familiar were there of larger extent, sometimes separated from the sea merely by a low line of sand, which in a storm seemed as if it must be swept away by the rush of the waters. But the young man had to encounter something ruder than the severe climate. According to the rules he was to be confined as a heretic in a prison the gates of which would never be opened. The prior of the monastery, however, when his prisoner arrived, was touched at seeing, instead of the terrible heretic that he looked for, a young man, gentle, intelligent, and amiable. His heart was won and he allowed him a good deal of liberty, particularly that of associating with the other monks. Could Tausen be silent? He knew well that if he spoke he would bring on himself fresh persecution. But how could he give up the hope of doing good to those about him? He remembered what 152Luther used to say; ‘When the apples are ripe they must be gathered; if we delay they spoil. The great point is to seize the opportunity.’ In tempore veni quod est omnium primum. It seemed to Tausen as if he were still reading those words which the good Wittenberg doctor had written in chalk over his fireplace—‘Who lets slip an hour lets slip a day.’^[258]

Tausen therefore resolved not to lose a moment, and he resumed in the cloisters of Viborg the work which he had been doing in the cloisters of Antwerskow. He openly avowed there the doctrine of free salvation, of justification by grace. The astonished friars at first vigorously opposed the new-comer. Frequent discussions took place; and that monastery of the North, in which for so long a time a dead calm had prevailed, was agitated with great waves white with foam, like the sea on whose shores it stands. The prior at first shut his eyes. He hoped that Tausen would be brought back by himself and his monks to the doctrine of the church; but he was mistaken. Many of the monks were unsettled, and agitation was beginning in the town. One of the friars, whose name was Tœger, had his heart touched by the doctrine of Christ; and opening his mind privately to Tausen begged him to instruct him in the whole truth. The two friends, taking great precautions and carefully concealing themselves from their superiors, spent together many blessed hours in meditation on the Scriptures of God. But no long time elapsed before persecution broke out.^[259]

Nor was it only in these remote and solitary regions that it was in preparation. The higher clergy began to discover that the neutrality of Frederick was as dangerous as the violence of Christian. The new king was to be crowned in his capital in the mouth of August, 1524, and the council of the kingdom was to assemble beforehand. 153This was the moment chosen by the prelates for settling that Denmark should remain faithful to the pope. Not one of the ecclesiastical members was missing at the convocation. Not only all the bishops, but many other dignitaries besides, mitred abbots, provosts and others, arrived at Copenhagen. The bishop of this town, Lago Urne, who was grieved to see around him the altars of Rome more and more forsaken, and masses for the dead and the money which the priests got by them daily falling off, pointed out to his colleagues that the opinions of Luther were fast gaining ground, that not only did the revenue of churchmen suffer thereby, but that their respect and authority even among the common people were undermined, and that these novel doctrines would ere long spread from the capital all over the kingdom. Thirty-six lords, members of the Council, were present on the occasion. They assembled on the 28th June, the eve of the festival of the Apostles Peter and Paul. ‘The bishops,’ said the terrified partisans of the papacy, ‘must oppose the Lutheran heresy with greater earnestness than they have done; whosoever teaches it must be punished by imprisonment or other inflictions (they had even proposed death); the dangerous writings which come in every day from Antwerp and other places must be proscribed: and there must be no kind of innovation until the council convoked by the pope decide on the matter.’ These resolutions were adopted by the members of the council, both lay and ecclesiastical; and the consequence was that the prohibited books were sought after and read with more eagerness than before.

What will the king do? Will he oppose or confirm these resolutions? He left the council free. But on the day fixed for his coronation, he arrived at Copenhagen accompanied by an evangelical minister who was appointed to discharge in his household the duties of chaplain. The spectacle of this humble pastor making his appearance in the midst of the royal pomp shocked the worldlings 154and sorely offended the bishops. When they saw the prince thus publicly reserving to himself, simply but decidedly, the free practice of evangelical religion, they were afraid that it would be no easy matter to deprive the people of the same freedom. They did not dare however to resist the king. The archbishop elect of Lund not having yet received consecration, Gustavus Troll, archbishop of Upsala, presided at the ceremony of consecration. The proceedings having been gone through without any disturbance, the bishops, discontented and restless, returned to their dioceses, resolved to do all they could to check what they called the progress of the mischief; and persecution on the part of the clergy was set down in the order of the day throughout the kingdom.^[260]

It was impossible that Tausen should escape. The bishop of Viborg, George Friis, was determined to extirpate the Reformation. The young reformer was apprehended, tried, and sentenced to imprisonment. He was confined in the underground part of a tower in the town, a doleful abode to which a little air and daylight found access only through an opening contrived in the lower part of the building. Of this air-hole, which sustained the life of the poor prisoner, he was to avail himself to give life to others, and thus alleviate the misery of his captivity. Those persons, at least, who were beginning to love the Gospel, filled with compassion for his misfortune, furtively approached the aperture, which seems to have looked on an isolated piece of waste ground. They called to him in low tones; he answered these friendly voices, and the conversations of the cloisters began again at the foot of the isolated tower. Some of the burgesses of the town, who had taken a liking to the Gospel, having heard of these secluded conferences, crept likewise noiselessly and secretly to the foot of the 155tower. The pious Johannite approached the aperture and joyfully proclaimed the Gospel to this modest audience. A prisoner, in distress, deprived of every thing, liable to the penalty imposed by the royal capitulation on all the disciples of Luther, Tausen declared from the depths of his dungeon that it was nevertheless true that a living faith in the Saviour alone justifies the sinner. His hearers increased in number from day to day; and this dungeon, in which it was intended to bury Tausen’s discourse as in a tomb, was transformed into a pulpit, a strange pulpit indeed, but one which became more precious to him than that of Antwerskow, from which he was banished. He was no longer alone in propagating the divine word. Tœger and the Minorite Erasmus, to whom the young man had made it known, were zealously diffusing it. They went about from house to house, and repeated to the families to which they had access, the instructions which the humble prisoner imparted to them through the vent-hole.^[261] The magistrates shut their eyes to what was going on; and many nobles who were on terms of friendship with the evangelical lords of Schleswig declared for the Reformation. They encouraged one another by saying that the king would not allow the reformers to be put down. The prince was about, ere long, to go further still.

When Frederick went in the autumn into Jutland he heard of the imprisonment and the preaching of Tausen. He had made up his mind not to put the Roman Catholics in prison, but at the same time he did not intend that the Catholics should imprison the reformed Christians. He therefore addressed a rescript on the subject to the council and to the townsmen of Viborg; in consequence of which the bolts were drawn and the gates opened to the pious reformer. Frederick went further. After drawing the poor prisoner from the tower, from his low abode he lifted him up beside the throne and 156named him his chaplain. God raiseth up the poor from the dunghill and maketh him to sit among princes. Desirous still further of marking the decision of his faith, he conferred the same honor on Tast of Husum. Frederick did not however intend, for the present at least, to deprive Viborg of the lights which shone there. Tausen, Tœger, and Erasmus had preached there the kingdom of God. It was the king’s intention that the Gospel, which was here and there springing forth as from living fountains in Jutland, should have in this town a fortress. He, therefore, allowed its inhabitants to retain Tausen as their pastor; but he set him free from all monastic subordination.^[262] Although the reformer continued for a year or two longer to wear the dress and to reside in the house of the Johannites, he enjoyed full liberty; and of this he availed himself to diffuse everywhere the doctrine which the heads of his order hated. Others came to his aid. |Sadolin.| A young man of Viborg, named Sadolin, sometimes called after his native place Viburgius, had studied, in 1522, under Luther; and after his return to his own country he had professed the principles of sound doctrine. The bishop having immediately checked his endeavors, Sadolin had appealed to the king, and had asked permission to establish in the town an evangelical school. The prince, perceiving that such an institution would furnish a solid basis for the religious movement, readily consented and founded at Viborg a great free school, in which Sadolin was the first professor. The youth and the adults of the town and of other parts of the country were there instructed in the principles of the Gospel. In Jutland, which thus received the light at the same time from Viborg on the one hand and from Schleswig on the other (Schleswig had embraced the Reformation as early as 1526), the number of those who desired no other Saviour than Jesus Christ was daily increasing.^[263]

157While the Reformation had thus one basis of action at Viborg in Jutland, it found a second in quite a different quarter, at Malmoe, opposite to Copenhagen, on the other shore of the Sound. At Viborg the reformation was of a more inward and more spiritual character; at Malmoe it was more polemical. The ex-burgomaster, Michelsen, who published at this time in Saxony the Danish New Testament, had already labored in this town to dispel the abuses of the Roman hierarchy. A priest endowed with a handsome person, a powerful voice, great eloquence and decision of character, and whom his enemies accused of a certain overbearing spirit, was boldly preaching there the doctrines of the Reformation. His audience steadily increased in numbers, and included some influential men; among others Jacob Nielsen and George Kok, the latter of whom had succeeded Michelsen, as burgomaster. Alarmed at the progress which the Reformation was making, its adversaries denounced the heretical preacher, who was usually called by his Christian name, Claus.^[264] The burgomaster remained firm. In front of the town was a piece of pasture ground which belonged to the magistrate. ‘You will preach there,’ said he to the eloquent Tondebinder; ‘but be cautious; preach evangelical truth, but do not baptize it with the name of Luther.’ It was now the month of June. It soon became known all over the town that there would be preaching in the open air. Sincere Christians impelled by the desire to hear the Gospel, adversaries of the priests by reason of the very prohibition by the archbishop, and neutrals attracted by the novelty of the circumstances, flocked in a crowd to the place. They remained standing, pressed close together and piled up in a heap, for they did not dare to pass beyond the free soil. One step beyond, and the rash intruder might be delivered into the hands of the archbishop and his court. The townsmen 158demanded a church; and they gave them, not undesignedly, the chapel of the Holy Cross, which was the smallest in Malmoe. It was instantly crowded, and many people who had to remain at the door began complaining again. The king then interposed and assigned to the eloquent preacher the church of St. Simon and St. Jude. But even this was not large enough. The audience wished for the largest church, that of St. Peter; and the rector granted this for Sunday afternoons.^[265]

Instead of one orator, there were now two. Spandemayer, a priest of the order of the Holy Ghost, a learned man, encouraged by the favorable reception of the Gospel, began to lift up his voice; and these two men, strengthening one another, said boldly—‘The true Christian doctrine has not been preached since the days of the Apostles. All those whom the church has decried as heretics were true Christians. All the popes of Rome have been antichrists; and those who trust in their own works are hypocrites, who thereby close to themselves the way of salvation.’ The two ministers rejected fasts, distinction of meats, monastic vows, and the mass. The churches were cleared of the vain ornaments which had till this time been exhibited in them; a plain table took the place of the high altar; and the Lord’s Supper was observed there in a simple manner. All the inhabitants of this important town soon professed the evangelical faith.

The monks, however, had still their own churches, from which, as from fortresses, they stoutly contended against Reform. The Franciscans especially were unwearied in the contest. Claus determined to attack them in their own entrenchments. He went one day into their church at the time of vespers; entered the pulpit, and there proclaimed the truth, and fought against monachism. Is not this system the sink in which the most crying abuses come together? Are not the compulsory vows, idleness, sensuality and, above all, scandalous licentiousness, the 159impure waters which run into this reservoir? A Franciscan who heard him entered the pulpit immediately afterwards and endeavored to refute him. Hardly had he concluded when Claus began again. This singular contest lasted through the rest of the day, nor was the mouth of either of the champions closed by the blows which they struck at each other.^[266]

The two ministers preached, with ever-increasing earnestness, that it is neither masses, nor vows, nor fast-days, nor the administration of the Romish sacrament, nor meritorious works, that save the sinner; but faith alone in the Saviour who takes away our sins and changes our hearts. The archbishop of Lund, Aage Sparre, being much incensed, summoned the two preachers before him to give account of their proceedings. He awaited them day after day, but in vain. At length, his patience was exhausted, and he betook himself to Malmoe, determined to reduce to silence these insolent priests who did not submit to his orders. ‘These heretics,’ he said to the magistrates, ‘allege that man is saved by faith alone; that there is a universal priesthood which belongs to all Christians, women included. They celebrate the mass in both kinds, and cannot fail to draw down on themselves the vengeance of the Almighty.’^[267]

The complaints and the menaces of the archbishop were ineffectual. The two ministers, on the other hand, received further assistance. A Carmelite monk, named Francis Wormorsen, a native of Amsterdam, inflamed with love for the truth, joined them, and became afterwards the first evangelical bishop of Lund.^[268]

The evangelicals took a further step. They adopted, both at the Lord’s Supper and in the general service, Danish hymns instead of the Latin, which the people 160could not understand. For this purpose they translated some German hymns, especially those of Luther; and in 1528 they published the first evangelical hymns in Danish.^[269] Editions rapidly succeeded each other. Every one wished to sing the hymns, not only at church but in their homes. In a short time the whole town was gathered around the Word of God. Some of the monks who behaved ill were expelled by the townsmen. Convents given by the king were transformed into hospitals. The people now heard nothing in the churches but the preaching of Jesus Christ. A school of theology was founded in 1529; and the priests, indignant, exclaimed—‘Malmoe is become a den of thieves, a refuge for apostates and desperadoes.’^[270] On the contrary, it was a city set on a hill whose light could not be hid.

It was not only at Malmoe and at Viborg that the Reformation was making progress. Everywhere the pillars of the papacy were giving way, and the temple was threatening to fall to the ground. The Word of God and the writings of Luther and other reformers were sought after and read. Many Christians who had hitherto contented themselves with paying the priests for taking care of their souls, began to be concerned about them themselves. They perceived that what is essential in Christianity is not the pope, nor the bishops, nor the priests, as they had hitherto been accustomed to believe; but the Father who is in heaven, the Son who died and rose again to save his people, and the Holy Spirit who changes the heart and leads into all truth. When the begging friars presented themselves at the people’s houses, with their wallets on their backs, they heard in educated families, instead of the idle tittle-tattle of other days, discussions carried on which greatly perplexed them. From the common people too they got, instead of eggs and butter, 161only rude attacks. When they attempted to meddle as formerly in family affairs, people shut their doors against them; and when agents of the wealthy bishops of Jutland made their appearance for the purpose of receiving their tithes, the peasants turned their backs on them. From all these matters the king held himself aloof and did not interfere. In some cases, it is true, he confirmed the privileges of the clergy; but the people had taken the business in hand, and it was the people and not the king who reformed Denmark.^[271]

The bishops were growing alarmed; they saw Roman Catholicism ready to perish, and there was not a man, either of their own number or among the priests, who was competent to defend it. Addressing themselves, therefore, to one of their devoted adherents named Henry Gerkens, they said to him—‘Go into Germany to Doctor Eck or to Cochlaeus, those illustrious champions of the papacy, and by the most urgent entreaties and the most liberal promises induce them to come, one or other of them, or if possible both, to Denmark, for two or three years, in order to confute, to perplex, and to plague the heretical teachers by sermons, disputations, and writings. We do not know where these valiant combatants are to be found; but go to Cologne, and there you will learn. To facilitate the accomplishment of your mission, here is a letter of recommendation addressed to every ecclesiastic and every lay member of the Roman church; together with special letters to each of those great doctors.’^[272]

Gerkins set out in May, 1527, and began his search for the two men who were to save Roman Catholicism in Denmark. Eck was first found. There was something tempting in the occasion to a man so vain as he was; for the letter written to him contained flattery of the most exaggerated kind. The salvation of the Scandinavian 162church, said the bishops, depended solely on him; but the famous doctor thought that he was too much wanted in Germany to be able to leave it. The Danish delegate next went to Cochlaeus. He felt flattered by the part which was offered him; but he thought it prudent to consult Erasmus. The latter replied that Denmark was a very long way off; that the nation, as he had been informed, was very barbarous; and that all he could say was that this was a matter which concerned not men, but Jesus Christ.^[273] Cochlaeus, like Eck, refused to go.

In the absence of theological debates, there were disputes of another kind. The evangelicals, who had become more and more numerous in the towns, used to meet together for their worship; but the bishops opposed them, and collisions more or less frequent were the consequence. It was to be feared that the agitation would extend. Without being barbarous (as Erasmus called them) the Danes had that energetic nature, sometimes terrible, of which Christian II. was the type. A prudent government was bound to attempt the prevention of violent conflicts; and for this purpose to establish some modus vivendi. This is what the king undertook to do; and with this end in view he convoked a diet at Odensee, for the 1st of August, 1527. The clergy heard the news with delight, and resolved to take advantage of the occasion to extirpate the Reformation. They had some ground for hoping to succeed. The nobles were to take the side of the bishops; and these two classes united were to win the victory. Two courses were open: to secure religious liberty to all the Danes, or to suppress one of the two parties. The evangelicals desired the former, the bishops |The King’s Speech To The Bishops.| aimed at the latter. Frederick I. did not hesitate; he opened the assembly with a Latin speech full of frankness, and especially addressed to the clergy. ‘You, bishops,’ said he, ‘who have been raised to a dignity so high, 163to the end that you may feed the Church of Christ by distributing to it the wholesome word of God, I exhort you to see to it with all your energy that this be done, in order that the pure and incorruptible voice of the Gospel may resound in your dioceses, and may nourish souls and keep them from evil. You know what a multitude of papal superstitions have been abolished in Germany by the intervention of Luther; you know that in other countries also the tricks and impositions of the priests have been exposed before the people, and that even among ourselves a general outcry has arisen. Complaint is made that the servants of the Church, instead of drawing the pure word of the Lord at the clear fountains of Israel, go away to the turbid and stagnant ponds of human tradition and pretended miracles, to ditches so foul that the people are beginning to turn aside from their pestilential exhalations. I have, I know, given you my promise on oath to maintain the Roman Catholic religion in this kingdom; but do not suppose that I mean to shield under my authority the worthless fables which have crept into it; neither I, as king of Denmark and of Norway, nor yourselves are bound to maintain decrees of the Roman Church which are not based on the immovable rock of the word of God. I have pledged myself to preserve your episcopal dignity so long as you devote all your energies to the fulfilment of your duties. And, seeing that the Christian doctrine as set forth in conformity with the Reformation of Luther has struck its roots so deep in this realm that it would be impossible to extirpate it without bloodshed, my royal will is that the two religions, the Lutheran and the papal, should enjoy equal liberty until the meeting of the general council which is announced.’^[274] This northern monarch thus realized the saying of Tertullian—Certe non est religionis 164cogere religionem.^[275] Unhappily the Reformation was not always faithful to its own principles.

When they heard these words, the bishops were in consternation. They were too well acquainted with the people not to be certain that under the régime of liberty the Reformation would gain the ascendency. It was all over with them and their episcopate. They believed that the only hope for the clergy lay in a close union with the nobility. They said to the lords, ‘Pray defend the Church;’ and they began to labor with might and main ^[276] to prevent the will of the king from being carried into execution. They depicted in the most glaring colors the dangers to which the Reformation exposed the state. They complained of the ill-treatment to which some of the begging friars had been subjected; and they made a deep impression on the minds of many lords and dignitaries of the state.

To liberty they immediately set themselves to oppose persecution. The royal council demanded that the letters which authorized the new doctrines should be revoked, that the preachers should be expelled the kingdom, that the monks should be restored to their convents, and that the bishops should establish in their dioceses learned clerks competent to confute the reformers. ‘I am not able to compel consciences,’ said the king, ‘but if any one ill treats the monks he shall be punished.’^[277]

The people were excited, for they were for reform. Even among the nobles and the influential rich men there was a party, at the head of which was Magnus Gjoë, which was determined to maintain evangelical liberty. These enlightened men made their voice heard. The king, finding that his throne was strengthened, and that public opinion became more and more decided in favor of the Reformation, took one more step. Strengthened 165by the support of Gjoë, his friends, and the people, he caused a constitution to be drawn up respecting matters of religion, and this was presented to the diet at Odensee in 1527. It alarmed the bishops and astonished the nobles.

This assembly, which included the most zealous partisans of the papacy, being constituted, the delegate of the king read aloud the following articles:

1st. Every one shall be free to attach himself to either religion; no inquiry shall be made concerning conscience.

2d. The king will protect equally the papists and the Lutherans, and will give to the latter the security which they have not hitherto enjoyed.

3d. Marriage, which has been for centuries prohibited to canons, monks, and other ministers of the church, is henceforth permitted to them.

4th. Bishops instead of going to Rome for the pallium, shall be bound to ask for confirmation by the king.^[278]

A great religious revolution was hereby brought about in the kingdom. By the abolition of celibacy the hierarchy was destroyed; by the abolition of the pallium relations with the papacy were suppressed; and the first two articles allowed the evangelical church to be built up on the ruins of Rome.

The first impulse of the clergy was to reject the whole of the articles; but the dread in which the bishops stood of Christian, the fear lest some foreign power should reinstate him on the throne, made them tremble. If the king did place himself on the side of the Gospel, he was at least moderate, while Christian was violent and cruel. The prelates held their peace. In accepting the liberty which was left them, they had indeed somewhat of the air of men who were being put in chains; but far from crying out very loudly, they showed some eagerness to submit. They had, it is true, one consolation; their tithes, their property were secured to them, so long as 166they should not be called in question by lawful trial. Nevertheless, beneath this apparent submission lay hidden an immovable resolution. All the prelates were determined to defend energetically the doctrine and the constitution of the papacy, and to seize the first favorable opportunity to fall on the Reformation and to drive it out of Denmark.^[279]

CHAPTER III.
TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION UNDER THE REIGN OF FREDERICK I., THE PEACEFUL.
(1527-1533.)

Tausen, the son of the peasant of Kiertminde, was still in the convent of Viborg, and wore the dress of the Johannites; but he was fearlessly propagating the doctrines of the Reformation. A singular monk, that! said the friends of the prior, Peter Jansen. Fearing that he had a wolf in his sheepfold, the prior drove Tausen out of his monastery. The townsmen received him with enthusiasm. They took him to the cemetery of the Dominicans; and the reformer, taking his stand on a tombstone, preached to a crowd of living men as they stood or sat upon the sepulchres of the dead. Ere long the church of the Franciscans was opened to him. In the morning the monks said mass in the church, and in the afternoon Tausen and his friends preached there the Word of God. Sometimes on going out from the service controversy was kindled, and laymen and monks came to high words, and even to blows. Then the bishop prohibited the preaching; and this largely increased the number of laymen who were impatient to hear the man of whom the monks were so much afraid. The bishop took other measures. Foot-soldiers and horsemen had orders to prevent the 167townsmen from going to the church in which Tausen preached. But the laymen, still more resolute than the priests, barricaded with chains the streets by which the troops were to arrive; and then, leaving a certain number of their own party to defend the barricades, went to the service armed from head to foot. At this news the bishop in alarm ordered the gates of his palace to be closed; and, fancying that he already saw the townsmen marching to the assault, put himself in a state of defence. Thus was the message of peace accompanied by very warlike circumstances. |Churches Assigned To Evangelicals.| The king interposed. He deemed it just that the evangelicals as well as the Catholics should have freedom to worship God, and therefore assigned to the townsmen the churches of the Franciscans and Dominicans. The monks, enraged, closed the doors of the churches; the townsmen opened them by force. The monks, terrified, then flew for refuge to their cells. In a little while the music of hymns composed by Tausen, and sung by his flock, reached their ears, and somewhat calmed their fluttering hearts. The reformers wished to be fair. They left to the monks for their worship the vaulted galleries which surrounded the church. But the soldiery did not show so much toleration. One day four horsemen, another day fifteen, says a historian,^[280] came and took up their quarters in these galleries. It amounted almost to a dragonnade. The singing of the monks and the tramping of the horses must have made very inharmonious music. The king had certainly nothing to do with this annoyance. More strife was inevitable. The two mendicant orders, who depended for their livelihood on the charity of the people, no longer receiving any gifts, found themselves soon reduced to the greatest straits. The Franciscans sold a silver chalice; but this went only a little way. They then adopted the plan of going away; and in this prudent scheme the townsmen were eager to give them assistance. In fact 168the latter set themselves to the business so zealously that some thought they were driving the monks away. Liberty was indeed the general law of the kingdom, but it was not always respected in details.^[281]

The monks went away; but printers, booksellers, and books came to the town. The contrast is characteristic. In all towns in which the Reformation obtained a footing, a printing press was at the same time established. Out of the struggles of the Reformation sprang up everywhere a taste for reading. One day the arrival of a bookseller, named Johann Weingarten, caused great joy at Viborg. Tausen immediately took advantage of the circumstance, and began to compose a work which he entitled—Pastoral and Episcopal Letter of Jesus Christ. In it Christ himself addresses the people of Denmark. They had forsaken him to seek rest in the idol Baal which was at Rome. But Christ returns to those who desert him, and offers them the grace of the love of God. ‘Hear you not the sound of these trumpets which my prophets have been blowing these ten years past? They make the holy word of the Gospel to resound in the whole world. Go whither it calls you. Do not fear because you are but few in number. It is no hard task for me to give a little flock the victory over a great multitude.’ Many writings of a similar kind followed. Tausen thus with all his might urged his people along in the path of the truth.^[282]

Several circumstances favorable to the Reformation successively occurred. The bishop of Roeskilde, the greatest adversary of the Reformation, having died, the king chose for his successor Joachim Roennov,^[283] a gentleman of his court, who had resided a long time at Paris and in other universities. He was of noble rank and a native of Holstein, 169a country particularly dear to the king. Unfortunately, Frederick had made choice of him rather because he was a friend of his house and capable of defending his sons after his death, than as a friend of the Gospel. It is not certain that Roennov was a churchman. He was probably at this time ordained successively deacon, priest, and bishop. He was obliged to pledge himself not to oppose the preaching of the Word of God, and this he did willingly. But it happened to him as it did to Aeneas Sylvius, who, when he once became pope, adopted with the tiara its principles and its prejudices.

Another measure of the king was more successful. He founded or authorized the foundation at Malmoe of a school of theology in conformity with the Holy Scriptures; and among its first professors were Wormorsen, Tondebinder, and Peter Laurent. The king further required that the canonries vacant at Copenhagen should be given to men capable of training priests and students in the true science of theology. Some of the doctors of Viborg and Malmoe gave soon afterwards the imposition of hands to young Christian men who were prepared to proclaim the Gospel. But while doing so, they declared that they did not communicate to them any sacerdotal unction, which pertained to God alone, but that they established them in the ministry as men worthy of it.^[284]

At length, this same year, an important event occurred to crown these various measures in favor of Protestantism. The king, calmly pursuing his course, resolved to call Tausen to discharge his ministry in a more important sphere, namely, at Copenhagen itself, and he appointed him pastor of the church of St. Nicholas. It cost Tausen some pain to leave Viborg. He foresaw what opposition and enmities he would have to encounter in the capital; he did not, however, shrink from it, but set out. In the course of his journey he let no opportunity slip of proclaiming the truth. Like St. Paul 170he preached in season and out of season. Having met a senator of the kingdom, Count Gyldenstern, a man held in very high esteem, he announced to him the Gospel. The senator could not resist the truth. ‘One thing alone perplexes me,’ said he; ‘I cannot persuade myself that the Church, which has for centuries shone with so much splendor, can be false, and all this new religion which Luther preaches, true. The true religion must needs be the most ancient.’^[285] Tausen was able easily to answer that the faith preached by the reformers is found in the ancient writings of the Apostles. He then went on his way.

The evangelical Christians of Copenhagen gave lively demonstrations of their joy at his arrival; and the zealous doctor saw in a little while an immense crowd gathered to his preaching. His hearers did not rest satisfied with merely giving signs of approval of the doctrine which he preached, but they gained over those who were still halting between the Gospel and the papacy, so that ere long the majority of the people took the side of the Word of God. The great truths of salvation till that time hidden, they said, are now disclosed and presented to us eloquently and soundly, so that they are impressed on our souls.^[286] An impulse still more powerful was about to be given to the Reformation.

In the month of May, 1530, the Imperial Diet assembled in the free city of Augsburg. No one doubted that the emperor, who had just been crowned by the pope in Italy, would be desirous of discharging his obligation to the latter by compelling the Protestants to prostrate themselves anew before the triple crown. The Danish prelates, especially, were persuaded of this. They took a higher tone, and said that if they could but meet the 171Lutherans, they would speedily reduce them to silence. They assumed to give at Copenhagen a rehearsal of the drama which was about to be acted at Augsburg. The Danish evangelicals, on their part, ardently desired a conference; and the king himself acknowledged the necessity for it. He therefore caused proclamation to be made throughout Denmark. ‘The bishops, the prelates on the one side, and the Lutheran preachers, Master John Tausen and his adherents, on the other side, were invited to appear at the Diet, before the king and the royal council, for the purpose of presenting their confession of faith and of defending it, to the end that one sole Christian religion might be established in the kingdom.’^[287]

The royal proclamation produced various effects. The prelates affected to be heartily pleased, and would fain have convinced every body of their sincerity. But it is not safe to triumph before victory.^[288]

The members of the roman party when by themselves were not the same men as they were in public. ‘Alas!’ they would say to one another, ‘if Odensee gave freedom to the Protestants, will not Copenhagen deprive the prelates of their dignities?’

The prelates took council among themselves, and came to the conclusion that they could not trust to their own strength. Paul Eliæ was the only man at all fit to cope with Tausen; but the prelates had not entire confidence in him. Eck and Cochlaeus had refused to venture so far as Scandinavia. The precentor of the cathedral of Aarhuus, Master George Samsing, one of the best Danish theologians, was despatched to the holy city of Cologne to seek after doctors well versed in Aristotle,^[289] masters 172of arts and bold and subtile mocks, skilled in the art of hitting hard blows, and of opportunely misleading their antagonists and their hearers in the labyrinth of distinctions and syllogisms. The precentor was not very fortunate in his researches; he succeeded, however, in persuading an unknown doctor named Stagefyr, and another whose name even is not known.

At length the 20th of July arrived. The assembly of the States was opened, and the whole nation was attentive to what was about to take place. On the issue of this conference hung the religious future of Denmark. On the side of Rome appeared the bishops, not to defend their doctrine, but to sit as councillors of the kingdom, and, as they pretended, as judges. The two doctors whom we have mentioned, and besides them, Eliæ, Muus, Samsing, Wulff the apostolical prothonotary, and several others came forward after them to defend the papacy. On the evangelical side, Tausen, Wormorsen, Chrysostom (guldenmund), Sadolin, and Erasmus presented themselves; twenty-two ministers altogether.^[290] During the first eight days the latter continued silent, and did not take a single step in self-defence; their adversaries the while proceeding with all the more violence against those whom they called the heretics. Eight days after the opening, Tausen presented himself at the head of his party and delivered to the king the evangelical confession which they had drawn up. The king communicated it to the prelates, and they took the necessary time for its examination.

How would things turn out? Already on the 12th of July, Charles V. had received from the pope a request that he would destroy by force the Reformation in Germany, and he was ready to do this. Would it not be the same at Copenhagen? The young man from Kiertminde, Tausen, as he stood on the shore of the Great Belt, had seen the waters of the sea scatter the boats of the fishermen, 173and advancing furiously on the coast beat down the trees, overthrow the houses and lay waste the fields. Was not the Reform threatened with like ruin? Tausen thought so. His friends therefore and himself, full of boldness, determined to appeal to the people. They wished at the least that the triumph of their cause should proceed not so much from a decree of the states as from the free conviction of their fellow-citizens. They therefore distributed among themselves the forty-three articles of their confession, and every day the twenty-two ministers delivered in turn two sermons on the doctrines which they professed in it. The prelates, who had fancied that they should see their adversaries in alarm, hiding their convictions like cowards, were amazed at this unexpected boldness; and the crowds of hearers which streamed into the churches threw them into a great rage. They hastened to the king. They entreated him, they obliged him to prohibit these Lutheran sermons which, they said, infringed on the rights of the Diet. But Frederick, although overcome for a moment by the bishops, listened to the representations of the pastors and withdrew his |Sermons Multiplied.| prohibition. Then the Protestants, anxious to redeem lost time, preached four sermons every week-day and twelve every Sunday.^[291] If the prelates abounded in the attack, the reformers superabounded in the defence. The case is, perhaps, unique in the history of the Reformation. But what a difference between these men! The activity of the ministers consisted in proclaiming their faith; the activity of the bishops consisted in imposing on their adversaries silence, imprisonment, and exile. The prelates took as much pains to hide their doctrine under a bushel as the evangelicals took to publish theirs on the house-tops. The former would not on any consideration set doctrine over against doctrine, lest they should draw laymen into the struggle. While the ministers were night and day proclaiming the Gospel, the priests were active 174only in persecution. According to a Scripture saying, they fell asleep and lay down like dumb dogs; and this, we are bound to confess, was not the case with the Roman Catholics in other countries. When two causes in the presence of each other adopt measures so different, victory is decided.

Sermons alone did not suffice the evangelicals. It was their great business to make a solemn confession of their faith before the Diet. One day, which it is not easy to determine, but probably about the end of July, 1530, Tausen and his friends appeared before the king, the grandees of the realm, the bishops, and the deputies, and presented, respectfully but boldly, the statement of their faith. Their declaration did not possess the perfect form of Melanchthon’s confession, with which they were at present unacquainted; but it had more clearness and force. While Luther’s friend, from a wish to spare and even to gain over the powerful princes who listened to him, had passed over in silence certain articles which might have given rise to sharp contradiction, Tausen and his brethren did not think it their duty, in the presence of haughty and persecuting bishops, either to soften the statement of their doctrines, or to spare the Romish party.

‘The Holy Scriptures,’ they said, ‘alone and uncorrupted by the interpretations, additions, and fables of men,^[292] teach all men how they may obtain salvation from God. (Art. 1 and 2.)

‘He who, in order to obtain eternal life, takes any other way than that which Scripture teaches, is foolish, blind, and incredulous, however wise and however holy he may seem to the world.^[293] (Art. 3.)

175‘The persecutions, the passion, the death, the resurrection, and the ascension of our Lord have been most certainly accomplished, and have been given to us to be our righteousness, the discharge of our debt, the expiation of all our sins.^[294] (Art. 7.)

‘The Holy Spirit, the third person of the Godhead, who is the comforter of all Christians, renews by diverse gifts of God our spirits and our hearts, establishes and unites the true Church in the faith and in the doctrine of Christ. (Art. 11.)

‘The holy Church is the communion of all those who by one and the same faith have been made righteous and well-beloved sons of God. And we make no account of any other Church, however distinguished in outward appearance, which curses those whom God blesses, rejects those whom God receives, and pronounces heretics those who teach according to the truth.^[295] (Art. 12, 13.)

‘We believe that marriage, the pious union of man and woman, as it was instituted in paradise, is holy and honorable in all; that to live honestly in this state is to lead a chaste life in the sight of God, and that to forbid it to man and woman is a false semblance of chastity and a doctrine of the devil.^[296] (Art. 20, 21.)

‘We believe that the true Christian mass is nothing else than the commemoration of the passion and the death of Jesus Christ, the celebration of the love of God the Father, in which the body of Christ is eaten and his blood is drunk as a sure pledge that for Christ’s sake we have obtained the remission of sins.^[297] (Art. 26.)

‘We believe that we all, as Christians, are priests in Christ Jesus, our only and eternal High-priest; and that 176as such we are to offer ourselves to God as living and acceptable sacrifices, to preach and to pray. But among these priests some must be chosen, with the consent of the church, who may preach to the Church, may administer the sacraments, and serve it. These are the true bishops or presbyters, words which are completely synonymous.^[298] (Art. 36 and 40.)

‘Lastly, we believe that the head and ruler of the true Christian Church is Jesus Christ alone, he who is our salvation; and we do not acknowledge as head any creature in heaven or on earth.’ (Art. 43.)

Other articles prohibited ceremonies not in accordance with the Word of God; excommunication pronounced against those whom God does not excommunicate; sacraments which are not instituted in the Scriptures; distinctions of meats and of days; the monastic life; the service which consists merely of chants; vigils for the dead, ornaments, cowls, the tonsure, anointings, or other outward signs of holiness; the withholding of the cup; the mass; the use of a language which the people do not understand; the invocation of saints; faith in any other mediator than Jesus Christ; pretended good works, indulgences, brotherhoods, and other novelties invented by priests and monks; purgatory; masses for the dead; the meddling of bishops or presbyters in business matters, in the pomps and shows of the world, in war, in the command of armies, in judicial functions, or in any thing not belonging to their office; refusal to obey princes and magistrates in any thing not contrary to the will of God; images in the churches, which do no harm indeed to the wise, but which may lead to idolatry simple men without understanding, and which ought to be everywhere removed, but only with the consent of the pastors, the magistrates, and the Church.^[299] (Art. 35 to 42.)

177Such was the faith of the evangelical Christians of Scandinavia. This confession is a mirror which reflects their likeness feature for feature. We are better acquainted with them after reading it, and we see in them true disciples of the Gospel.

Not so thought the prelates. This confession which the king had placed in their hands astonished them. They had expected that the Protestants would be intimidated, and would not venture to publish their faith; and now they found them putting it forward with great decision. They determined to present a bill of indictment against these innovators.^[300] ‘We remember,’ they said to the prince, ‘the engagements which you made on your accession to the throne. Now, John Tausen and other disciples of Luther allege that the Church, for thirteen or fourteen centuries, has been tainted with error; that works are useless; that Christians of both sexes are priests; that all the convents must be demolished; that man has no free-will, and that every thing comes to pass by virtue of absolute necessity.’^[301]

The prelates, however, shrank from a vivâ voce discussion, which would have resounded through the whole kingdom. They therefore required the Protestants to prove their assertions in writing, anxious that every thing should be confined to writings of which they alone should take cognizance.

The evangelicals energetically disproved these charges,^[302] and particularly that of denying freedom and maintaining fatalism. With regard to the imputation brought against them of recognizing only a universal priesthood, they said—‘Will you reject a Turk or a Russian who has received 178Christian instruction from a layman, if he die before having been instructed by a priest?^[303] There is then a priesthood for Christians; but no one may hold any office in holy Church without being appointed to it by the Church, for St. Paul will have all things done decently and in order.’ The evangelicals, who on this point were completely opposed to the prelates, did not content themselves with written apologies, but wished for a public disputation, at which they might defend their faith by word of mouth. This was conceded, and it was to be held in the royal palace. The halls for the meetings were ready. But the debates, according to the Protestants, ought to take place in the vulgar tongue, in order to be understood by the laity. The prelates, on the other hand, absolutely refused this, and would only agree to Latin, a language unknown to the people, the townsmen, and even to most of the nobles. The evangelicals further declared that they would recognize no other standard of authority than Holy Scripture; and they added that the king, the members of his council, and the whole people would be able themselves to discern which of the two parties were in agreement with it. ‘We acknowledge no other interpreters,’ said the bishops, ‘than the Fathers and the councils, nor any other judge than the pope and the next council.’—‘This is a mere subterfuge,’ said the doctors of the Reformation; ‘you want to prevent the discussion, and thus escape from an embarrassing position. You will not enter into the sheepfold by the true door, and you have no care for the sheep of the Saviour.’—‘Alas!’ exclaimed the members and the creatures of the clergy, ‘if the Lutherans have so much boldness, it is because a sacrilegious king shuts his eyes to their insolence, nay even instigates them, and because the infatuated nobles and blameworthy citizens encourage them.’^[304] But it was indeed 179out of the abundance of their hearts that the reformers spoke.

Two parties very unlike each other were now brought face to face. The theocratic element had long prevailed in Denmark, and still characterized the party of the bishops. Another principle had appeared in the midst of this people, which characterized the reformers and their adherents. This was the religious element. It is a happiness for a nation when the reign of a theocracy comes to an end; it is on the other hand a misfortune when the religious element is weakened. There are not wanting in a nation minds, and these some of the most distinguished, whose interest is concentrated on secular knowledge and inventions; and we are very far from wishing to exclude this tendency. Experience shows that it may exist in the most Christian souls. But if a people is given up entirely to this industrial propensity, which is so powerful in our day, if they sacrifice to it the interest which they had previously felt in religious life, it is just as if the bones which sustain the whole body were removed from any living animal. This process has been very much recommended in this age by some philosophers. We do not desire, however, to see it carried out in the case either of an individual or a nation.

The evangelical Christians of Denmark soon gave a new proof of the zeal which inspired them in their endeavor to substitute religion for the theocracy. Feeling the importance of holding a religious discussion, they gave way on the question of language. ‘We are ready,’ they wrote to the king, ‘to hold discussion with the prelates either in Latin or in Danish;’ and for a whole month they repeated their demand. The Catholic party had recourse to a subterfuge, and wrote to the king that they likewise were ready to confer with the preachers either in Latin or in Danish; but that they ought first to justify 180themselves in writing before judges with whom all the world must be satisfied.^[305] These judges were the Danish bishops and Roman cardinals, that is to say, essentially the pope, who would thus be judge in his own cause. Further, they raised objections to the disputation itself. ‘The sittings,’ they said, ‘are to be held in the royal palace, and it would be dangerous to speak in a place occupied by the body-guards of a prince so devoted to the heretics.’ It was thought that this fanciful fear of the body-guards did little credit to the courage of the champions of Rome.^[306]

Thus the scheme of the conference broke down. Tausen, Wormorsen, Sadolin, Gjoë, Erasmus, Jansen, and their brethren were greatly grieved about it. Ought this refusal of the bishops to check them in their efforts to establish in Denmark the kingdom of Jesus Christ? They were not men of a kind to become sluggish and idle after doing ever so little, or, as another reformer says, ‘to take their eyes from their brows and place them in their backs.’^[307] They thought that in the service of Christ they must be able to burst the fetters, to triumph over obstacles, and to run with outstretched arms to the goal. They appeared before the king and said to him—‘We acknowledge that these lords are men of birth and honor, competent to give good counsel in the affairs of the world; but our chief complaint against them is that they confine themselves to bearing the title of bishops, and do not in any manner discharge their duty. Not only do they not preach themselves, but instead of placing in their dioceses well-informed pastors and preachers, they appoint stupid, ignorant, and profane men, who supply the Christian people with nothing but ridiculous fables, dreams of monks, old wives’ tales, and fooleries of players, after the usual manner of papists.^[308] They persecute 181those who preach the Gospel freely, and who condemn falsehood and hypocrisy. They give leave to bands of sellers of indulgences to run to and fro to smother the Word of God, and to prevent simple folk from receiving it. They shamefully drain the resources of the poor people, while the real poor are languishing in distressing necessities. They get a multitude of superstitious masses said in their cathedrals, for the sake of great revenues, instead of having preaching there and of offering to God true worship. They try to prevent Christians, in the exercise of their liberty, from following the counsels of learned and pious men, and choosing for themselves really evangelical ministers; and they assign parishes to idle canons and nobles, who do nothing for the people, allowing any one of them to hold six or seven benefices. They forbid priests to marry, and thus make adulterers of most of them. As for what some of these prelates personally are, we will not speak just now.’^[309]

The king and the Reichstag thought that the ministers gave a good account of their cause, and declared that since the Catholics rejected the disputation, the evangelicals should continue to preach the Word of God until the meeting of the general council; and the king promised at the same time his protection to both parties. The majority of the ministers remained for eight days at Copenhagen, and wished to see whether any Catholic would present himself for the purpose of discussion. Eliæ, on whom so many hopes had been built, kept profound silence; but one Master Mathias, who had not yet spoken, a prey as it seems to painful doubts, set forth some difficulties, to which Tausen made victorious reply. Mathias himself, it is said, passed over to the Protestant 182party.^[310] The objections of Master Mathias were the only oblation offered to Rome by the priesthood. The appearance of this solitary unknown champion of the Romish Church, after so many and such solemn appeals, recalls to mind the story of Julian when he wished to re-establish with ceremony the feast of Apollo at Antioch: and only one priest made his appearance, bringing as the whole of the offerings one goose.^[311]

From this time the evangelical cause was in the ascendency in the kingdom. The bishops left Copenhagen with broken hearts. They trembled not only for the papacy, but also for their property and their persons. The bishop of Roeskilde, alarmed with or without reason, sought the protection of the king, who gave him a safe-conduct. The prince, who was determined himself to promote the cause of the Gospel in proportion as God should make it prosper, summoned Chrysostom, Sadolin, and other ministers besides; and from this time six preachers proclaimed the Gospel daily in the churches of St. Nicholas, Our Lady, and the Holy Ghost, and held discussion in the cathedral itself.^[312] The king maintained the privileges of the bishops. But the Reformation was strong enough in itself to dispense with the aid of the prince. In vain did Roman Catholicism, at this last moment, lift its dying voice; in vain did Eliæ publish an apology for the mass; Tausen replied to him; Eliæ promised a refutation, but gave none. The bishop of Roeskilde then resorted to other means: he instigated the partisans of the clergy to hoot at the evangelical ministers, to pursue them with jeering and to drive them away. The other prelates did the same. Instead of endeavoring to bring back the people by their kindliness and their pious discourses, they stirred them up against the Gospel, and thus lost what little respect they had enjoyed.

Nothing could stay the progress of reform. The Danes 183read the Scriptures in their own tongue. Day by day new heralds of the Gospel proclaimed to them the way of salvation. The pure light of the Word of God was shining in these lands of the north. Their inhabitants were learning to regulate their actions by that word, and they were astonished to see in what deep darkness they had lived up to this time.^[313] The Reformation rose like the tide, and covered the country with its waters. Monks quitted their monasteries, and these buildings were converted into hospitals or were dedicated to other useful purposes. Unfortunately the townsmen, provoked by the conduct of the bishops, indulged in rude displays of their hostility to monachism. The convent of Friars Minor, at Nestved, was demolished, and a pillory set up on its ruins in token of reprobation. The hateful yoke under which the clergy and the monks had kept the people misled men into unbecoming acts of vengeance. The passions which in the case of the learned broke forth at times in writings full of bitterness, displayed themselves on the part of the people in acts of violence.^[314] The sixteenth century could not calmly discuss religious questions; this was one of its weak points; and perhaps other centuries, proud of their tolerance, were too much like it. A large body of working-men assembled at Copenhagen on the third day of the Christmas festival, 1531, and entering the church of Our Lady during the celebration of the Roman service seized the ornaments and the figures which were found in it, and broke them to pieces. The church was closed for some time, but by order of the magistrate the Catholics reoccupied it. They continued to say mass in it for three years longer. Ten convents were secularized between 1530 and 1533;^[315] but Frederick, whose constant aim as 184king was not to lean to either side, protected the others. The most wealthy monasteries, however, were compelled to contribute to the necessities of the state. This moderation on the part of the king, far from raising any obstacle to the progress of the Reformation, only served to ensure it.

The prince at the same time strengthened his position politically. In 1532, at the request of the Landgrave of Hesse, he entered into the alliance of Protestant princes of Germany.^[316] This was an important step. Moreover, the prelates and many nobles foresaw, after the diet of 1530, the approaching fall of Catholicism. Aware that the king’s son, Prince Christian, was a zealous Protestant, they looked round on all sides for some means of escape from the lot which threatened them. They finally fixed their hopes on Prince John, son of King Christian II., who was consequently nephew of Charles V., and was brought up at his court. They flattered themselves that if this young prince received the crown at their hands he would re-establish the Romish religion and crush the Reformation. They therefore agreed amongst themselves to direct all their efforts to placing John on the throne after the death of the king. At the same time, some negotiations in which Frederick had been engaged with the emperor failed. His enemies appeared to be gaining the upper hand; and every thing announced that a storm was ready to burst forth.

The fallen king, Christian, had not ceased to fill the courts of Germany, the Netherlands, and England with his complaints and his solicitations. He perceived that, as Frederick favored Protestantism, he could not reckon on the Protestants of Denmark. It was only in the character of head of the Roman Catholic party that he would be able to recover his crown. Discovering the wind that would carry his vessel to the point which he wished to reach, he set all sail for it. Some of the catholic princes 185advised him to make his peace with the pope; an infallible means, they said, of inducing all the prelates and adherents of the Roman faith to declare in his favor. This unhappy prince, so violent and at the same time so weak, whose sole thought now was to become king again at whatever cost, did not scruple to sacrifice the opinions, more or less sincere, which he had openly professed, and entered into correspondence with the pope with a view to being received once more into the bosom of the Church.^[317] It does not appear that the negotiations had any result, but they show the weakness of the religious opinions of the pretender. Christian had more success in another quarter. Some bold Dutchmen, in hope of gaining something for their navy and their trade if they reinstated him on the Danish throne, obtained for him an army and a fleet. The malcontents of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden hastened to join him. Troll, the ex-archbishop of Upsala, Thure Janssen, grand-master of the court of Sweden, who was desirous of a reunion of the three kingdoms, and other influential persons, actively served him in the countries of the north. He embarked in the month of October, with ten thousand men, resolved to appear as the defender of the Catholic faith and the saviour of his country. A violent tempest came on and shattered many of his ships: a fatal omen in the judgment of many.^[318] When Christian arrived in Norway he had only a few ships. Nevertheless, the archbishop of Drontheim, primate of Norway, looked on Christian as the champion of Rome; and with him the other bishops, all of them zealous Catholics, princes, abbots, priests, gentlemen, magistrates, and even some of the townsmen and the common people hastened to join him. Janssen declared that the kingdom would not support Frederick. 186‘I will,’ said the king, ‘persecute the adherents of Luther, and protect the faith of the Church against the damnable work of that doctor.’ Norway, opposed to the Reformation, received him with acclamations; and ere long, in the whole kingdom, only three fortresses remained to Frederick. Christian was acknowledged king of Norway.

Some of the bishops pledged the church vessels for the purpose of paying the troops. The senate wrote to the Danish senate to take steps for Christian’s restoration in Denmark. The terrible man who at Stockholm had bathed in the blood of his enemies, seemed to be on the point of triumphing over new rebels. Christian imagined himself already seated on the triple throne of the north, and indulged himself in the frivolous pleasure of investiture with all the insignia of royalty. On great occasions he bore the crown on his head, held the sceptre in his hand, and played well the great part of monarch in the midst of the small band of his adherents. If he should succeed, will he be Catholic or Protestant? All that it is possible to tell is that he will be that which will best suit the interests of his ambition.

Frederick, on his part, perceiving the danger which threatened him, lost no time in assembling his forces by land and by sea. Knud Gyldenstern, bishop-elect of Odensee, was placed at their head; and as soon as the spring had made it possible to attack Norway, a fleet of twenty-five vessels sailed, at the beginning of May, from Copenhagen roads. Frederick had received important aid from Sweden. Christian, in his irritation, saw only a traitor in the great Master Janssen who had declared for him; and in a fit of anger he put the old man to death.^[319] This passionate and credulous prince, looking on himself as already king of the whole of Scandinavia, entered Sweden with inadequate forces. Weakened by this imprudent attack, he was compelled to retire to 187Opzlo ^[320] with the remains of his army. Ere long the Danes themselves arrived, and during the night set fire to all Christian’s ships; so that the unhappy prince, driven into a corner of the country whence he could not escape either by sea or by land, had no choice but to perish arms in hand or to surrender. He requested an interview with Gyldenstern and his principal officers; and now as much disheartened as he had before been presumptuous, he begged them in the most humble tone to tell him what he was to do. The bishop in command replied, ‘That he must go to the court of King Frederick, his uncle, who would doubtless grant him favorable terms’ (July, 1532).

He requested a safe-conduct, and the Danish leaders granted him one which stipulated for the king, and for two hundred persons of his suite, friendly entertainment and the honors due to his rank. It was even stated in it that Christian, after the death of Frederick, might possibly be elected king by the states. Gyldenstern on his departure from Copenhagen had been invested with full powers for treating with Christian, and he made use of them. But the convention, nevertheless, was not yet sealed when two Danish officers, Skram and Wilkenstede, arrived in the camp, charged on the part of Frederick with an order by virtue of which Christian was only to be received at discretion, and on unconditional surrender to the will of the king. Did these delegates, finding matters so far advanced, communicate the verbal order which they had received from the king? Supposing that this order was communicated, did Christian, reduced to extremities, choose to make an attempt to influence his uncle? These points do not appear to us to be by any means cleared up.^[321]

However this may be, Christian did all that he could 188to procure for himself a kind reception with the prince whom he had undertaken to dethrone. Finding that the wind was changed, he trimmed his sails anew. This man, who was as inconsistent in his actions as in his words, and who had assumed the character of the avenger of insulted Catholicism, wrote to his uncle an evangelical letter in which he confessed his error and declared himself penitent. Was he sincere? Or was he a hypocrite? The latter seems the most probable view. ‘Sire,’ he wrote, ‘I am the prodigal son who returns to his father, but returns a regenerate son. I promise you that I will cherish for you, all the rest of my days, the feelings of a son. Believe me, flesh and blood no longer govern me, but the spirit of grace which God has miraculously bestowed on me, and which fills me with an ardent charity for all mankind, and especially for your Majesty, for the queen, for your sons, for the states of Denmark, and for their allies the Hanse Towns.’

He forgot no one. ‘I hope that your Majesty will rejoice with all the holy angels at the change which is wrought in me, and that our friendship will become all the more solid and more lively for the conspicuous display of our former enmity. I beg you, Sire, to communicate this letter to the senate, in order that it may place confidence in my pious and pacific sentiments.’^[322]

It would be pleasant to believe that Christian, in whom a passionate ambition had silenced all Christian feeling, was returning in his misfortune to those sentiments of piety which he had experienced at Wittenberg. But how could any one trust a capricious man who, according to the requirements of self-interest, would assume by turns the most opposite semblances? Shortly after writing this letter, Christian embarked on the Danish fleet and entered, about the end of July, the port of Copenhagen. He did not arrive there as a conqueror, as he had expected 189to do, but as the conquered. The man who had declared that he would cast into prison the adherents of Luther was now a prisoner himself. The dark cloud which seemed on the point of bursting over the Reformation was dispersed.

The Senate was called together to deliberate on what was to be done. Frederick was undecided. Gyldenstern, instead of taking the part of the unhappy man who had, perhaps, been deceived by his fault, accused him of having violated the agreement by hostile proceedings. The Senate declared that the convention must be considered as null and void, on the ground that it was contrary to the orders given by the king to his envoys, Skram and Wilkenstede. The nobility of Denmark and of Holstein, the Hanse Towns, jealous of those of Holland which had assisted Christian, and even Sweden, supported this view. ‘How,’ said they to Frederick, ‘how can you choose but punish an attempt which might possibly have overthrown order in the kingdom and have snatched the crown from your head? Could you let slip the opportunity of putting an end to continual alarms? Master of your enemy’s person, will you leave him at liberty, and thus enable him to stir up fatal revolts in Denmark? If you allow him to go whithersoever he will, he will not fail to engage in fresh intrigues.’

Pending these deliberations, Christian, who was detained in the port on board the vessel which had brought him, did not understand why he was left there. He grew weary, wondered at these intolerable delays, and began to be somewhat disquieted. All the men who were on board were at liberty to go ashore and to return; he alone was not allowed to leave the ship. The officers of the ship attributed the delay which surprised him to the 190circumstances of Frederick’s being then at Flensborg, in Schleswig; and this was, indeed, partly the cause. At length it was announced to the ex-king that the interview with his uncle would take place in that town, and that they were going to take him there. A superior officer of the fleet, furnished with secret instructions, took command of the ship and gave orders to set sail. The vessel sailed, escorted by a small squadron; and this, it was said, was a mark of honor. But the real intent was to prevent any attack being made with a view to the rescue of the prince.

After having sailed within sight of the island of Zealand, they passed before those of Moen, Falster, Laaland, Langeland, and Aero. Christian was not free from distress of mind. He had been treated at Copenhagen as a prisoner; and this terrible man, who in a single day had caused the élite of Sweden to be massacred in nearly analogous circumstances, questioned with himself what they meant to do with him. A dark cloud arose in his soul. He strove to cast off the fears which he would fain believe to be puerile. He dared not disclose to any one the distress which agitated him, but remained dumb with shame, spite, and grief. The fleet approached the coast of Schleswig, and he rejoiced that the moment was not far off when he was to have the interview with his uncle. He was standing on the deck in deep silence. Suddenly he perceived that the ship, instead of entering the Gulf of Flensborg, was standing off the cape to the north |His Fate.| towards the island of Alsen. At this moment the veil was rent; the unhappy prince discovered the fate which awaited him. He uttered a cry and burst into tears. He would fain have arrested the pilot; but he knew that any attempt was useless. He broke out into bitter complaints, but his voice was soon stifled by sobs. The fleet continues its course northwards, and entering the strait of Sonderburg, stops before the town of that name. The gates of the old impregnable castle open before the fallen 191king and then close. The guards set over him conduct him to a gloomy donjon; and they shut up with him a dwarf who, as if in derision, was to be the sole companion of the colossus of the North. No sooner has he entered than the door is walled up behind him. There is no more hope. A single window feebly lighted up the gloom of this place; and it was through bars of iron that he, thenceforth, received his food.^[324] The monarch who was so long formidable was treated like the vilest of his people. The king who sat on three thrones has nothing now to lean on but damp walls. The prince, nephew of the king, brother-in-law of the emperor Charles the Fifth, of King Ferdinand, and of Queen Mary; this ally of Henry VIII., of the princes of Germany and other powerful houses, has no longer any companion but a wretched dwarf. His food is of the meanest kind, and his jailers treat him with the utmost rigor. What monarch ever displayed greater barbarity than he did in the public place at Stockholm, in October, 1520? An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. At the recollection of that massacre all the people shuddered. The name of Christian was the terror of the North. Frederick had been obliged to promise the nobles and the councillors of the crown by a formal instrument never to restore him to liberty. In vain were some hearts affected by this vast calamity; in vain were some voices raised in behalf of the wretched monarch. Public peace requires it, was the reply; and there was nothing more to be said. Punishment, though delayed, had at last overtaken him. This strange champion of Roman Catholicism was ruined, and his disappearance from the stage of the world ensured the triumph of the Reformation in the whole of Scandinavia.^[325]

No sooner was Christian a captive than his kinsmen 192and his allies deserted him. The emperor, his brother-in-law, turned his back on him, and even offered an apology to Frederick for having taken any part in the last enterprise of his rival. The regency of the Netherlands informed the victor-king that it was without their knowledge that the late campaign had been undertaken by any of their subjects.

One man in all Europe, however, had compassion on him, one only, so far as is known, and endeavored to alleviate his misfortune. This was Luther. The reformer of course knew well that Christian had said he would crush the Reformation, and had called it in his proclamation a damnable work; but the great doctor had the heart of a Christian. King Frederick received a letter from him in which were these words—‘We know that God, the just Judge, has given your Majesty the victory over your nephew, and we do not doubt that you will use this triumph in a humble and Christian way. Nevertheless, the misfortune of my gracious lord, King Christian, and the fear lest any should stir up your Majesty against him, encourage me humbly to entreat you to have pity on your captive kinsman; to follow the example of Christ who died for us, his enemies, to the end that we also might be full of compassion towards our enemies. You will do so the more readily, Sire, because your nephew, as I am told, was not taken in arms against you, but surrendered himself into your hands like an erring son into the hands of a father. Your Majesty will offer a noble sacrifice and render the highest honor to God, by giving to the poor prisoner a pledge of his grace and of his fatherly faithfulness. And this good work will be for yourself, on your death-bed a great consolation, in heaven a great joy, and at the present time on earth a great honor.’^[326]

This letter was written by Luther on the 28th September, 1532. Frederick, who was not hard-hearted, could 193not but be touched by it. But reasons of state were in this case opposed to Christian motives; and there are considerations which may be put forward in excuse for the imprisonment of his nephew. It was not within the power of the king to do what he liked with regard to Christian. The king was in ill health; he felt greatly the need of rest, and he knew that he should never have a tranquil moment so long as his antagonist was at large. But these circumstances were no palliation of the rigorous treatment adopted towards the prisoner. Reasons of state were in this case opposed to Christian reason; and the former generally win the day in this world. Frederick was to be blamed for permitting treatment so severe to be dealt out to his brother’s son. He did not, however, take vengeance on the allies of Christian, the Dutch, although he had at first intended to close the Sound to their ships.

An event had occurred which still further secured the crown to the younger branch of the family. Prince John, the only son of Christian, who had been a pupil of the famous Cornelius Agrippa, and of whom the highest hopes were entertained, died at Ratisbon at the age of fourteen. In him the elder line became extinct.

Frederick, long threatened with a decline, had taken up his abode for the sake of quietness in the castle of Gottorp, near Schleswig, his favorite seat. At the moment of Christian’s entrance into his prison, the time was not far off when Frederick must quit his throne. In the spring of 1533, on the 10th of April, Thursday in Passion Week, he died, at the age of sixty-two. All good men deplored his death.^[327] They proclaimed him a ‘wise, merciful, and virtuous prince.’ They recalled to mind the moderation which he had displayed in the religious discussions, and the freedom which he had allowed 194to conscience; and if the usual kindness of his character had been wanting in the treatment of Christian, they attributed it only to the force of circumstances, to the illness which rendered it impossible for him to direct details, and to the influence of the leading men. He left four sons: Prince Christian, of whom we have spoken; Adolphus, who took the title of duke of Holstein-Gottorp from the castle in which his father died, and who became the founder of a younger line from which sprang the imperial family now reigning in Russia;^[328] Frederick who became bishop of Schleswig and afterwards of Hildesheim; and John, the youngest. It is of the eldest and the youngest sons of this house that we have now to take notice.

CHAPTER IV.
INTERREGNUM—CIVIL AND FOREIGN WAR.
(1533.)

As soon as the wise Frederick had been taken from his people, the conflict between the two great religious parties again began. The bishops no sooner heard of his death than they lifted up their heads, and held frequent conferences together. Under the late king Roman Catholicism was moving at a slow pace to its fall; now they must save it, they thought; and for this purpose, taking advantage of the election which must be held after the death of the king for the appointment of a successor, they wished at all cost to exclude from the throne his eldest 195son Christian, whose attachment to the Reformation was well known; to lengthen out the interregnum as much as possible; and meanwhile to put forth all their efforts to place on the throne Prince John, a child ten years old,^[329] of whom they would make a good Roman Catholic. During his minority it would not be difficult for the bishops to suppress the Reformation. The scheme was clever and bold, but not so easy of execution as some thought. A large number of the towns and the greater part of the nobility professed the evangelical faith. But the bishops were still in the enjoyment of all their privileges; and they flattered themselves that they should rise to power and get the laws repealed which under the late king had given religious liberty to the Protestants.

Prince Christian, in conformity with the rules of succession, had assumed the government of the duchies of Holstein and Schleswig for himself and his brothers under age. He had not been able to do the same in Denmark. But foreseeing the intrigues of the clerical party, he had sent to Copenhagen the Vice-Chancellor, Johan Friis, and two councillors, empowered to demand the assembling of an electoral Diet to name a successor to Frederick, and to support his own interests. It seemed as if he was to be disappointed in his hopes. His deputies were coldly received: there was no hurry to give an answer, and it was agreed that he should not be invited to the Diet. Indeed, the Vice-Chancellor heard that young Duke John, the bishops’ candidate, had a very good chance. He wrote immediately to his master. ‘If God and the Diet,’ was the noble reply of the eldest son, ‘will confer the crown on my young brother, I do not oppose it. All that I ask 196is that this important matter may be settled without delay.’ Christian saw the clergy leagued against him; but he believed from the bottom of his heart that evangelical truth would triumph over the bishops.

On St. John’s Day, 1533, the Diet opened. The prelates went to it, determined to do their utmost to crush evangelical religion, and to re-establish everywhere the old pontifical system.^[330] Hardly had the assembly constituted itself when the bishops began the work. Ove Bilde, the most learned and most highly esteemed of their number, was apparently the first speaker. The clergy demanded that the election of the king should be deferred to another time. In their name the speaker claimed the entire restitution of churches, convents, and estates, in one word, of every thing that Catholicism had lost; and he violently inveighed against those whom he called the ministers of the new religion and against those who supported them.^[331] At the same time he exalted the mass as being the very essence of the Christian religion; depicted in strong colors the deplorable state to which, he said, the priests and the monks were reduced; pointed to the heretics establishing themselves in the monasteries which the holy men and the consecrated virgins had been compelled to abandon; and described the excesses of the people in casting down the images of the saints and breaking the sacramental vessels. ‘The authority of the bishops is vilified,’^[332] said he; ‘there are but few of the faithful who care for the services and still fewer who dread the censure of the Church; while the number of those who join the Lutherans is increasing day by day. Permit not, the bishops implore you, this holy religion, which has formed part of your very life from infancy, to be covered with opprobrium. Let the thunderbolts of excommunication 197strike those who have fallen into heresy, that they may feel the necessity of returning to their mother’s bosom, and let more terrible penalties fall on those who are obstinately impenitent.’^[333]

The evangelical members of the Diet listened with amazement to this speech; and the gravity of the crisis caused them the greatest perplexity.^[334] It was not for the Gospel that they feared; but they knew that if they yielded to the bishops, there would be an energetic opposition. The people would rise and the nobles themselves would take up arms if need were. Magnus Gjoë, the leading champion of Reform in the Diet, rose and said—‘Conscript fathers and venerable bishops, let us not draw down fresh calamities on the realm, which is already too sick. Religion is a holy thing, and neither its origin nor its end lies within the power of any man. If we unjustly seize its rights, God himself will be its avenger. Liberty has been given to religion by the will of the king, and this liberty cannot be taken away without the king’s consent.’^[335]

The bishops, who fully understood the importance of the moment, remained deaf to all appeals. United with the laymen who had continued faithful to them, they would be able to carry the vote. Their clamor increased. The friends of the Reformation, therefore, judged it expedient to grant part of their demands in order to save the vote. They allowed them to draw up the compact. This seems an enormous concession, but constitutional forms were not as yet very fully developed; and the Diet reserved to itself the power either of amending the document or even of rejecting it, if it did not suit it. The bishops made large use of the power accorded to them. 198They stipulated, amongst other things, that they should fulfil their functions without having to give account to any but God alone; that every priest who should resist them should be prosecuted; that the tithes should be restored to ecclesiastics, and that whosoever refused to pay them should be summoned before the courts; that the cathedrals, convents, churches, and hospitals should be given up to the Roman clergy; and that in the next Diet a decision should be formed respecting the restitution of such of these houses as had been taken away from them. Nothing was stipulated about the rights of the evangelical Church. This might be deprived of every thing, and indeed they were already taking much from it.

The bishops brought this fatal project before the Diet and required the members to set their seals to it. The evangelicals heard it with astonishment, and the faithful Magnus Gjoë with the deepest emotion. He spoke thus: ‘The bishops have inserted in this compact some provisions which are in their favor and contrary to the decisions of the Reichstag; and they have suppressed others which were favorable to the evangelicals.’ Indignant at this fraud, the energetic Gjoë declared that he would not set his seal to the instrument. Eric Baner did the same. But the other Protestant members signed it, some of them from excessive prudence which degenerated into weakness, others under the impression that by granting to the Catholics what the latter regarded as necessary to their Church, they were only pursuing the plan of freedom and balance between the two confessions which the late king had designed. The instrument, which was immediately published, had the force of law in the kingdom.^[336]

The bishops, proud of this first victory, believed that 199a second would be easily won, and they unmasked their batteries. ‘Prince Christian,’ they said, ‘was born long before his father was king; he was educated abroad; he is not a Dane. Duke John is the true heir, for he was born in Denmark, and at a time when his father, the king, was already on the throne.’ The lay senators, perceiving the injustice of this proposal, and seeing to what it must come, took courage. They had made ample concession on matters of religion; they were determined to make none on matters of state. ‘The kingdom,’ said they, ‘is in a critical situation; the partisans of Christian II. are threatening another invasion for the purpose of liberating and reinstating on the throne this prince, whose vindictive, violent, and cruel character we have so much reason to dread. It is not wise at this critical moment to take a child for our king. When a storm is gathering the helm is not placed in weak hands. The wisdom, the valor, the experience of the eldest son of the deceased king, and his travels to foreign courts, all mark him out for the choice of the senate.’ The struggle between the two parties was very sharp. The leaders assembled at Copenhagen as many of their respective adherents as they could induce to leave their country homes. The citizens of the capital began to murmur very loudly at the bishops. The latter were intimidated and resorted to stratagem. Knowing that Norway was devoted to Catholicism, they alleged that it was impossible to proceed with the election without the deputies of that kingdom. Now as these deputies could not be ready before the winter, the election was put off for a year. The clergy vowed to make good use of this interval. Gjoë and Baner contended against a resolution which appeared to them to be fraught with danger. But the majority gave their decision in favor of the delay, and a council of regency was appointed. The two energetic champions of the Reformation still refused to affix their seals to the compact, and quitted Copenhagen. Many lay deputies 200followed them; three only of their number signed the instrument.^[337]

The bishops, proud of their victory, were eager to profit by it. Tausen was in their view the mainstay of reform; if they could but succeed in getting rid of him, the evangelical work, they thought, would come to nothing.^[338] The reformer was cited to appear in the assembly hall of the magistrature of Copenhagen. The bishops were present as his accusers; the marshal of the kingdom, and some of the nobles and magistrates who were devoted to them, were to be his judges. Condemnation appeared to be inevitable. Was the blood of the reformers about to be shed in Denmark as it had been in France, in the Netherlands, in England and elsewhere? Tausen made his appearance before his judges with calmness. ‘You are accused,’ they said to him, ‘of having called the bishops tyrants and the priests idle bellies, and this in a book published by you; of having taken possession of most of the churches of Copenhagen; and of having attacked the sacrament of the altar, both by word of mouth and in writing.’ ‘I have done nothing,’ said Tausen, ‘except for the honor of God and the salvation of souls.’ Then he cleared himself of the charges brought against him; but all was useless. Tausen was condemned to death, in conformity with the canon law, and orders were given that the mass should be re-established in all the churches. The thought of Tausen being put to death, and that in the midst of the population of Copenhagen, terrified the senators, the laity, and the magistrates of the town. They conjured the bishops not to set before the people the spectacle of an execution which must inevitably excite indignation and, perhaps, occasion a revolt.^[339] They 201succeeded ultimately in getting the capital sentence commuted into banishment, with a prohibition to preach, to write books, or to publish them.

Meanwhile, the report had got into circulation among the townsmen that their beloved preacher had been taken to the town-hall, had there been accused, put upon his trial, and condemned. Excitement was universal. Every one left his business, the tradesman his shop, the merchant his counting-house, and the artisan his workshop. They all hastened to the square, asking questions of one another, and giving replies—‘Yes, the enemies of evangelical doctrine have dragged our minister before the court.’ They were filled with indignation, they murmured, they filled the air with their outcries.^[340] A party of them entered the court where Tausen was. They exclaimed—‘Give him back to us!‘^[341] and they declared that if the priests made any attempt on the free preaching of the Gospel, they should not do so with impunity. The tumult was increasing in the square. The judges could hear the cries of the people in arms demanding again and again their faithful pastor. The court in alarm implored the lay members of the Diet to go and pacify the crowd. They went, and as soon as they made their appearance the multitude was silent. ‘Fear not,’ said the deputies, ‘Tausen is in no danger; we have interceded in his behalf, and the churchmen have yielded. There is no intention to prohibit evangelical worship. Go back, therefore, quietly to your houses and attend to your business.^[342] The Diet will take care that nothing be done against religion.’ But these words did not satisfy the townsmen; they could not trust the priests; they wanted their pious pastor restored to them, and they charged the 202deputies who spoke to them with connivance with the enemies of the faith.

They were in reality deceiving the people, for if Tausen was not going to be taken from them by death he was to be so by banishment.

This persistent demand on the part of the people and their accusations provoked the deputies of the bishops; the latter raised their voices and threatened with severe punishment those who charged them with weakness. There was so much noise that the multitude could not catch their words; but their features, their gestures, and the sound of their voices all showed that the delegates were angry. The people got excited in their turn; they did not mean to be trifled with. Those who bore arms brandished them; on all sides threats and outcries resounded. ‘Give us back our pastor,’ said they, ‘or we will burst open the doors.’^[343] The delegates went in again and delivered to the court the message from the crowd. Fear then did what justice had failed to do; and the persecutors turning to Tausen, who had remained calm, in complete self-surrender to the Divine will, announced to him that he was discharged. The reformer passed out of the court, and the people, at the sight of the shepherd whom they loved, shouted for joy.

As soon as the popular excitement had apparently subsided, the bishops and their adherents determined to quit the place in which they were assembled. Pale and trembling, says a historian, they regained their homes, compelled on their way thither to pass through the groups of people who still thronged the neighboring streets. Each of them extricated himself more or less successfully, and pursued his path with more or less peace of mind according to the degree of opposition which he had shown to the Reformation. Roennov, bishop of Roeskilde, was especially an object of hatred to the townsmen of Copenhagen, 203who were better acquainted with him than with the others, because he was their own bishop. When he made his appearance fierce glances were turned on him. Violent, hot-headed men followed him, demanding his life as an expiation for the crime of the priests. Their hands were already raised threateningly against the bishop. Tausen, who was not far off, perceived this, and instantly hastening up placed his own person between Roennov and these misled men, whom he entreated not to give themselves up to disgraceful acts of violence. His singular gentleness succeeded at length in pacifying this excited crowd, which was like a sea driven about by the wind.^[344] He was not content with this. He would not leave the prelate, but desirous of protecting him from other attacks, accompanied him as far as his palace gate. Roennov, whose life he had saved, gave him his hand and thanked him for the signal service he had just done him. This Christian act touched the heart of the bishop. The violence of the people had provoked him; but the charity of Tausen softened him, and even changed for a time the course of his thoughts and of his life.

Although the bishops, in the presence of danger, had yielded for the moment, they nevertheless intended that the sentence against Tausen should be carried out. He must leave Copenhagen. Roennov had an estate called Bistrup, near Roeskilde, and to this place Tausen withdrew. He was thus within reach of Copenhagen and was able to guide his flock. The bishop consented to this choice of abode, perhaps even suggested it to his deliverer. In order that the progress of the Reformation might not be arrested in Copenhagen, and that the people might not rise in revolt again, it was essential not only that friendly relations should be established between Roennov and Tausen, the two bishops of the town, but further that the prelate should place no obstacle in the 204way of the preaching of the Gospel in the capital of the kingdom. Gjoë, Baner, the bishop of Odensee, Gyldenstern, all devoted to the Gospel, earnestly desired it; but the bishop entertained prejudices against them which could not but prevent him from making any concession to them. It is well known how useful the influence of Christian women has often been in the church, and particularly how much they contributed to the establishment of Christianity among the northern nations. A fresh instance of this beneficial influence occurred at this time. Gjoë had a daughter named Brigitta, of lively piety, of noble character, and of great beauty, who afterwards became the wife of the naval hero, the celebrated Admiral Herluf Troll. She had had some intercourse with the bishop, perhaps for charitable objects. It was alleged, but erroneously as it seems, that Roennov, before he had taken holy orders and while he was living at the court, had met Brigitta at the sumptuous entertainments of which she was the fairest ornament, and had wished to marry her. However this may be, the beautiful and Christian Scandinavian undertook to get the bishop’s sanction to the free preaching of the Gospel in the capital of the kingdom, as it had been under the late king. Brigitta succeeded in this important negotiation. Tausen pledged himself not to allow himself in his preaching any insult against the Catholic priests, to oppose any conspiracy that might be formed against the bishop and his clergy, to defend Roennov against those who censured him for his tolerance, and in all things to seek after the real good of the Church. The bishop on his part gave Tausen permission to return to Copenhagen and to resume his functions. It is clear that the admirable conduct of Tausen towards him, and likewise a secret sense of the value of the truth, were the real motives which prompted the bishop to this step. But the friends of the priests, affecting to see something else in the case, were indignant with the prelate, and declared sarcastically that the power 205of beauty had led him to betray the cause of the faith. This arrangement had important consequences. Brigitta was the worthy peer of her namesake, of whose marvellous prophecy the monk Peter wrote, and whom Rome placed among the saints.^[345]

The other bishops were far from following the example of their colleague. Filled with fear by the threats of the excited people, they made haste to quit the capital in order to take their revenge in the provinces and to stifle heresy. In the name of the Diet they promulgated an edict enjoining that, on a day fixed, all the Lutheran preachers should be removed from their churches, thrown into prison or banished, and that Catholic priests should be everywhere settled in their places. In addition to this, confiscation and death were pronounced against all Danes who should continue to profess the Lutheran doctrine.^[346] A general persecution immediately began. The archbishop of Lund and the bishops imprisoned or expelled all the evangelicals who fell into their hands. A great number of the faithful succeeded in concealing themselves. At Viborg, however, so numerous were the evangelicals that the archbishop was obliged to give up the thought of reducing them to submission, even by force of arms. At Copenhagen, the feeble and vacillating bishop Roennov, overwhelmed with reproaches by his colleagues, again turned about at the mercy of the wind, and undertook likewise to expel the ministers and oppress the faithful. But a brave burgess, Peter Smid, infused courage into his fellow-citizens and energetically resisted the persecution; and the bishop recollecting the disturbance of which, but for Tausen, he would have been the victim, abandoned his attempt.

206It was to the honor of Scandinavia that these religious struggles were not disgraced by bloodshed, as was the case in the rest of Europe. Wormorsen likewise made an attempt at reconciliation and peace by publishing an evangelical apology addressed to the Diet and the bishops. In this tract he spoke respectfully of the archbishop of Lund, complaining at the same time of the canons who made a boast of confining themselves to expelling the pastors instead of burning them alive. The evangelical minister declared that his colleagues and himself would render obedience to the Diet and to the bishops in every thing which was not contrary to the Word of God. But this appeal remained without effect.^[347]

The bishops, thinking their victory secure, at length undertook to justify their silence in the Diet of 1530, and to refute the apology which the evangelical ministers had then presented. Eliæ was entrusted with the drawing up of the plea. ‘These new preachers,’ said the prelates, ‘transform the Christian Church and give it a new shape. The predecessors of Luther are Eunomius, Manichæus, Jovinianus, Vigilantius, the Waldenses, Wycliffe, Hus, and others of the same species, all damnable heretics. Consider how many princes, nobles, kingdoms, countries and towns have loyally adhered to the true Christian faith. You are called to make your choice between these Catholic nobles and excommunicated heretics. Decide for yourselves; make use in this case of the same understanding which you apply to the things of this world.’^[348]

The Protestants on their part were not backward. They discharged, volley after volley, their polemical pamphlets, sometimes theological, sometimes popular, after the manner of Ulrich von Hutten or Hans Sachs. Imaginations were stimulated, tempers were heated, and the country swarmed with treatises, parables, and sarcastic 207sayings. While Peter Larssen, professor at Malmoe, made a serious attack on ‘the sentence of banishment against the ministers of the Word of God,’ a Dialogue on the Mass represented it as a sick man abandoned by his physicians and breathing his last. A satirical piece on superstitious vigils exposed the notorious impositions of the priests. One Hundred and Seventy Questions, with answers, elucidated various points of Christian doctrine. A Conversation between Peter Smid and Adzer Bauer, which was not wanting in wit, stigmatized purgatory, confession, feast-days, holy water, tapers and other abuses of the papal church. Finally, a Dance of Death, one of the favorite themes of the sixteenth century, brought on the stage terrified popes, bishops, and canons, all trembling at the sight of Death, while the evangelical ministers joyfully went forward to meet him.^[349]

Certain grave occurrences fraught with danger could not but have a greater influence than these satires in putting an end to the strife and in giving Denmark a new impulse.

Lübeck, one of the Hanse Towns, at this time a rich and powerful place, was discontented with the Danish government because it did not grant to its ships sufficiently exclusive privileges. Desirous of profiting by the weakness which was the consequence of the interregnum, the Lübeckers resolved, in 1534, to invade the kingdom, under the pretext of reinstating Christian II. on the throne. A leader must be found, and Lübeck applied to the Count of Oldenburg, a kinsman of the unfortunate prisoner, an able man, ready in action, ambitious, and a zealous Protestant, though little worthy of the name. Christian had still numerous partisans, and his restoration to the throne appeared to the Danes to be a way of escape from a long and troublous interregnum. The emperor, 208Christian’s brother-in-law, and the king of England favored the enterprise. The Count of Oldenburg raised troops in Germany, invaded Holstein, and then returning to Lübeck, embarked on board a fleet of twenty-one vessels, well supplied by the Lübeckers with men and munitions of war, and set sail for Denmark, which at this time had no king, no army, and hardly a council. He made a descent on Zealand, took possession of Roeskilde, deposed Bishop Roennov, the friend of King Frederick and of his son, and appointed in his stead Archbishop Troll, the faithful servant of Christian II. After making himself master of the Sound, he marched on Copenhagen which opened its gates to him; subjugated the whole of Zealand, and convoked at Ringsted a Diet the members of which took the oath of allegiance to Christian II. Oldenburg’s profession of Protestantism drew the townsmen to his side. It was otherwise with the nobility, who had caused Christian to be put in prison and now trembled at the thought of his liberation. The Lords of the kingdom, therefore, in alarm, shut themselves up in their castles. Oldenburg dispatched troops against them, an excited mob followed, and on reaching any of these aristocratic abodes, gave themselves up to brutal rage. Many of the nobles found themselves compelled by violence to join the invader, and they stammered out with trembling an oath of fidelity to Christian, their cruel and formidable foe. Roennov, who played the weathercock in politics as well as in religion, was among the first to take the oath; and his bishopric was restored to him. The Count gave Troll, by way of compensation, the bishopric of Fionia. The people of Malmoe, persuaded by the Lübeckers, had already placed the government under arrest, and had demolished the citadel built by Frederick. Oldenburg crossed the Sound, entered Scandinavia, and went with a numerous escort of troops and of people to Liber hill, near the primatial town of Lund, where the kings of Denmark were accustomed 209to receive the homage of their States. He called upon the crowd around him to acknowledge Christian II. They responded with joyous acclamations. Ere long, the islands of Moen, Falster, Laaland and Langeland were conquered, and Oldenburg was master of the greater part of Denmark.^[350]

Meanwhile, the friends of the late king and of the Reformation, and particularly the Grand Master of the kingdom, the noble Magnus Gjoë, had betaken themselves to Jutland, where they would be nearer to Frederick’s eldest son. They were followed by the nobles, the bishops, and all the enemies of Christian II., who in a state of despair made their escape furtively into Jutland, a district remote from the storm which was ravaging the island of Zealand and terrified them. The young duke John, no longer feeling himself safe in Fionia, assumed the guise of a peasant, his whole suite doing the same, and thus rapidly crossed the Little Belt. The feeble Roennov, once more facing about as he so often did, likewise reached Jutland in the suite of the bishops his friends. Such members of the Diet as were present in Jutland, being determined to provide for the safety of the realm by energetic measures, assembled first at Skanderborg, on the lake of Mos, a little below Aarhuus; and afterwards at Rye, several leagues distant, on the edge of a forest near the lake of Juul. A multitude of the gentry, of the townsmen, and of peasants had quitted their castles, their shops, and their rye fields, that they might sooner learn what this assembly would resolve on. The bishops, concerned only about their own power, had obstinately insisted on having a child for king; and a factious spirit had clouded the judgment of the nobles. But now the danger was displayed in all its vastness, the veil was rent, the revolt would inevitably spread in Jutland, and then it would be all up with the ancient kingdom, 210which would fall a prey to greedy tradesmen and to a furious populace, and would be given over to the sanguinary revenges of an implacable king. What might not the terrible author of the massacre at Stockholm be expected to do, if the Lübeckers should rescue him from the dungeon which shut him in, and should place him on the throne?^[351]

In crises of this kind there is one man predestined to save his countrymen. In this case it was the noble Magnus Gjoë. He rose and argued before the Diet that if the crown had been unhesitatingly given to the eldest son of the deceased king, the great calamities which now overwhelmed the kingdom would have been averted. He added that the only means of saving it at this hour was a speedy recourse to that prince. ‘Most honorable lords,’ said he, ‘the salvation of our country now depends upon the resolution which you are about to adopt.’ All the lay members applauded this speech and proposed that without delay they should call the duke to the throne of his father. But the prelates were indifferent to any calamities but their own. ‘The safety of the Church,’ they said, ‘forbids our making choice of a heretical prince.’ Violent debates now began. It was to no purpose that representations were made to the priests that they were risking the sacrifice of the country to their idle chimeras; their obstinacy only grew stronger.

While there was one assembly within the hall, there was a far more numerous one outside. An immense crowd surrounded the Diet and waited impatiently to see whether the country was to be saved or lost. They pressed about the doors to learn the result of the deliberations and wondered that they did not come to an end. Ere long, suspecting what happened, these impatient men made their way into the hall and exclaimed that it would not do to wait till the enemy fell upon 211those who were still able to defend their country before appointing the only leader who could save them. They asserted that the caprice of the bishops had already cost the loss of half the kingdom, and declared that if the duke was not that instant elected, those who opposed it should pay dear for their resistance. The prelates began to tremble. They sat silent, gloomy, and irresolute. Dread, however, of the tyrant’s return brought them to a decision. They stammered out some excuses, they spoke of their zeal for religion, and they added that if the nobles were determined to elect the duke, they had only to do so on their own responsibility; that as for themselves they would be content with the receipt of their tithes and the maintenance of their own privileges and those of their Church. No sooner had they spoken than the young Christian was proclaimed king by the Diet; and the multitudes within and without the hall responded to the announcement of this election with acclamations of joy. It was on the 4th July, 1534, that this important step was taken.

CHAPTER V.
CHRISTIAN III. PROCLAIMED KING. TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND.
(1533-1550.)

While these things were in progress, Christian, who had no intention of imposing himself on the Danes by force of arms, but wished, on the contrary, to be freely called to the throne, and by the people themselves,^[352] had marched against the enemies of Denmark, and was besieging that powerful town of Lübeck which had brought confusion on his country. The Grand Master, Magnus 212Gjoë, Ove Lunge, another member of the Diet, and two bishops set out to announce to him his election. Informed of their mission he went to meet them, and received them at the cloister of Preetz, in Holstein, situated above Eutin and the charming lake of Ploen. Christian accepted with gratitude, dignity, and modesty the crown which was offered to him as the only man who had power to save the kingdom. Soon afterwards he went to Horsens, in Jutland, situated at the head of a gulf formed by the sea to the north of the Little Belt. At this place the States of Jutland and Fionia met in a great assembly on a plain near the town. Christian was here proclaimed king; and, on his knees, with hands raised towards heaven, he took the oath in use at the election of a monarch; saving, however, the necessary changes which might be made, with the assent of the Diet, particularly with respect to the property and the privileges of the bishops. From the very beginnings of the Reformation, the prelates had incessantly resisted its progress. They had imprisoned or banished the reformers, had deposed a king, and as soon as the throne was vacant had endeavored to place on it a boy whom they assumed to keep under their own guardianship. Everywhere and at all times they had taken the position of masters of the country. And now their star was paling, a dark veil hung over their destinies, and the sun ‘that ariseth with healing in his wings’ was about to radiate freely his light and heat.^[353]

There was still, however, much to do. Oldenburg’s soldiers, under the command of a pirate, had invaded the north of Jutland, and had spread there, as they did everywhere, ruin and desolation.

Rantzau who was in command of the royal troops expelled them. Oldenburg went to Copenhagen, and being determined to push on the war vigorously, demanded of the gentry their silver plate and the jewels, necklaces, 213and bracelets of their wives and daughters. But at the call of the new king, Sweden, having no desire to see its butcher, the terrible Christian II., reascend the throne of Scandinavia, despatched an army into Scania which pursued the Lübeckers as far as Malmoe. Christian III., for want of a fleet, passed the Little Belt in ordinary boats. The German army was defeated in two engagements. More than two hundred German lords perished in these fights; and the famous Archbishop Troll, the friend of Christian the Cruel, who, in conjunction with Hoya, was in command of the army of the invaders, was severely wounded and died. At length the spring of 1535 permitted the vessels of Sweden and Prussia to join those of Denmark. This fleet touched at the island of Zealand, and the king and the army encamped at a distance of four leagues from Copenhagen, and soon invested the city. The siege lasted a year; and during this time Christian III. overran the other provinces for the purpose of driving away the enemy.

In the midst of these struggles and conflicts the Reformation was making its way without the co-operation of the king. Its adherents were gradually regaining possession of the churches and offices of which they had been deprived by the bishops in the fatal year 1533. Christian undertook a journey into Sweden; and the order, peace, and prosperity which prevailed in that country, since the Reformation achieved the victory over the Romish hierarchy, attracted his attention, and convinced him more than ever that in this victory was to be found the source of the welfare of the individual and the community.

At the same time the Lübeckers were beginning to be weary of an unrighteous, burdensome, and unsuccessful war. The elector of Saxony, with other princes and some of the free towns of Germany, looking on the young Christian as one of their own body, offered to mediate between Lübeck and him. A congress was accordingly opened at 214Hamburg. It was arranged that all hostilities should cease between the king and the state of Lübeck, and that Copenhagen and the other towns still in rebellion should be pardoned if they made their submission. But these towns refused to surrender, in the confidence that Queen Mary of Hungary, governess of the Netherlands, the sister-in-law of Christian II., would send them aid. Necessity at last brought about what inclination refused. Copenhagen, in which the Count of Oldenburg had shut himself up, could no longer hold out. There was no more bread in the town. Those who had a little barley or oats ate them uncooked, lest the smoke should reveal the fact, and the famishing should come and carry off what remained. In a little while this emaciated population had nothing to live on but horses, dogs, and cats; and for this kind of food a very high price was charged.

The soldiers who had nothing at all entered houses to snatch, from those who still had any thing left, any poor food, and carried it off, harassing them at the same time with shameful treatment. These unfortunates sought with eagerness after every thing that seemed capable of sustaining life. Men and women who were mere shadows wandered about hither and thither, scaring those who met them; and they were seen dragging themselves upon the ramparts exposed to the fire of the enemy and stooping to pluck from the soil any wild herbs. Some, when they felt that death was approaching, left their beds and dragged themselves along to the cemetery, as their relatives would certainly have no strength to carry them thither, and they lay down to die on the earth which was to cover them. Others, impatient for the end of the long agony, exposed themselves to the shots of the besiegers. Pity was nowhere to be found; and when some of these wretched victims abandoned themselves to cries and lamentations—‘Off with you!’ said the chiefs, ‘you are not so badly off as they were at the siege of Jerusalem, 215where parents ate their own children.’^[354] There was more charity in the prince who was besieging them. Duke Albert of Mecklenburg, who had married a niece of the elder Christian, and was hoping to inherit his crown, was one of the leaders shut up in Copenhagen. His wife being confined, the young king sent her victuals in great abundance for the sustenance of herself and of all her connections.

At last came the catastrophe of this tragedy. The townsmen and the soldiers, subdued by hunger, offered to capitulate. Christian’s first intention was that they should surrender at discretion; but his generous disposition soon prevailed, and he promised pardon to all his enemies. The Duke of Mecklenburg and the Count of Oldenburg proceeded on foot to the royal camp, their heads uncovered and white bâtons in their hands.^[355] They made a public confession of their offences, and falling on their knees they asked pardon of the king. Christian gave a stern reception to the Count of Oldenburg, whose ambition had plunged Denmark into a most cruel war. He reminded him of the pillage, the conflagrations, and the murders which he had ordered in the states of a prince of his own blood, and urged him to repent. Then he raised him up, saying at the same time that he was willing still to acknowledge him as his kinsman, although he had shown himself his most cruel enemy.^[356] As for the Duke of Mecklenburg, the king attributed his offence to weakness, and treated him with forbearance. The deputies of the town afterwards presented themselves and were 216received with a kindliness that won their hearts. The king made his entry into the capital on the 8th of August, accompanied by the queen, the members of the Diet, and the principal officers of his army. The inhabitants, wasted, pale and tottering, crawled out to see him pass, and had scarcely strength to utter a shout of joy. Many houses had been destroyed by cannon shot; and almost all the churches were thrown down. The emotion and pity which the king felt at this spectacle were depicted on his countenance. His presence was now to put an end to these calamities. He re-entered the town as a king, but also as a father. A similar entry was to take place, at the close of the century, into a capital of higher importance, and on the part of a prince more illustrious. But there was a great difference between Christian III. and Henry IV. The prince of the North did not ascend the throne as the king of France did, ‘to have on his head the feet of the pope.’^[357]

And now, what had he to do? To bind up the wounds of the kingdom and to give it a new life. Christian felt it necessary to consult the principal members of the Diet. Six days after his entry into Copenhagen he called together, under the seal of secrecy, the Grand Master Magnus Gjoë, the Grand Marshal Krabbe, Rosenkranz, Brahe, Guldenstiern, Friis, Bilde, and some other enlightened members of the senate, and laid his thoughts before them. They came to a unanimous conclusion that the bishops were the chief cause of the troubles in the realm, and that while they were in power its prosperity was impossible. Were they not the authors of this interregnum which had plunged Denmark into an abyss of misfortunes? Had they not rejected the only king who was capable of saving the country? Had they not exercised in his stead tyrannical authority? Was not their temporal 217power contrary to the Scriptures, a tissue of usurpations and a fatal institution? The people declared for the Reformation. It was, therefore, the duty of the king and of the Diet to take the necessary steps for its complete establishment; and the first thing to do was to deprive the bishops of a power condemned by God and by man. But if they should find that this matter is to be brought before the Diet would they not attempt to raise their partisans? To prevent this their persons must be secured. Sharp remedies for sharp maladies. ‘He leadeth princes away spoiled and overcometh the mighty.’^[358]

This resolution had hardly been adopted before two of the most influential prelates of the kingdom, Torbern Bilde, archbishop of Lund and primate of the realm, and Roennov, bishop of Zealand, arrived at Copenhagen for the purpose of offering their congratulations to the king. They were both at the episcopal palace of the city, and it appears that they received some hint of the measure that was in preparation. On the 20th August, Rantzau, entrusted with the mission by the king, appeared at the palace. He found the door closed, and his soldiers burst it open. The archbishop immediately surrendered without offering resistance. But Roennov took advantage of his familiarity with all the nooks and corners of his palace to rush within, and climbing up to the roof squatted in a foul and disgusting hole, or according to another account, behind one of the beams which supported the roof.^[359] They searched for him for a long time without looking there; but the next morning they discovered him. He came down and tried to conceal his shame under an air of irritation and by violent words. All the bishops were taken prisoners; and every one of these arrests forms a history by itself. Many of them defended 218themselves in their strong castles and repulsed force by force. Rantzau was obliged to form regular sieges and to attack vigorously these formidable pastors who had armed men and brave officers under their orders.^[360] The Danish bishops, contrary to the Bible command, had turned their crooks into swords, their crosses into halberds, and their flocks into troops of lancers. The bishops were confined in various fortresses, and their treatment with more or less mildness depended on whether they conducted themselves submissively or insulted the king’s officers. The question of course arises were these seizures legal? We reply that the bishops had been guilty of offences against the state and against the people, and that these offences justified their imprisonment. It is a legitimate course for a king and his counsellors to defend themselves against conspirators.

The Diet of the kingdom had now to pronounce a decision. Christian resolved on taking an important step in a constitutional direction by introducing into the Diet, in conjunction with the nobility, and in the place of the prelates, representatives chosen by the burgesses of the towns and by the peasantry of the country districts.^[361] This was the first Diet in which the people were represented. It was opened on the 30th of October, 1536. A decree was passed for the holding of an assembly to regulate the new order of things. A spacious platform having been erected in the open air, the king and the States took their places on it, surrounded by a vast gathering of the people, who formed as it were, the general council of the nation. The prince expressed the sorrow that he felt at the thought of the calamities with which the country 219had just been visited, and dwelt on the fact that the bishops had shown themselves unworthy of their office. Then followed the reading of a report on the condition of the kingdom, which occupied three hours. It set forth the offences common to all the bishops, the usurpation of the supreme power and the attempt to ruin the evangelicals.

Next, the reporter dealt with each of them separately. ‘Bishop Roennov of Roeskilde,’ said he, ‘has ruled in Copenhagen during the interregnum as though he were the sovereign.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ exclaimed voices from the crowd. ‘He has sent his likeness,’ said some one, ‘to Queen Mary of Hungary, governess of the Netherlands, offering her at the same time his hand and the crown of Denmark!’ This was doubtless a mere piece of fun; but the notion of becoming king some day would be not at all unlikely to occur to a vain man like Roennov, who was turning over high matters in his weak brain. To each bishop was attributed some particular saying and deed. One of the strangest sayings was that of the Bishop of Ribe, who, according to the reporter, said—‘I should like to be changed into a devil, that I might have the pleasure of tormenting the soul of King Frederick, tainted with heresy.’^[362]

The reporter continued—‘In consequence of these facts it is proposed that all the Roman Catholic bishops should be deposed from their offices; that the religion and the rites of the Romish Church should be abolished in the kingdom; that the doctrine should be reformed and the evangelical religion established; that none of those who are unwilling to renounce the Roman priesthood should on that account be subject to any ill-treatment, that no infringement of their liberty of conscience should be attempted, but that they should be instructed in conformity with the Word of God, and if they refused this they 220should be left to give account of their faith to God alone.’^[363] Considering that the spiritual power had resorted to the use of halberds and cannon, the temporal power might very reasonably have done the same; but the sovereign, having made himself master of their fortresses, imposed on them no penalty but freedom.

When the reading of the report was concluded, the question was put in the king’s name to the nobles and to the people whether they assented to the proposals therein made, and particularly whether they wished to retain their former bishops. As with one voice they all replied—‘We do not wish for them; we will have the Gospel.’ A compact was accordingly drawn up. A complete amnesty for what was past, and entire and mutual confidence for the future were proclaimed. In the place of the prelates, the authors of all the troubles of the kingdom, an equal number of evangelical theologians were to be established under the designation of ‘superintendents’ (that of ‘bishops’ subsequently came into use). Permission was given to monks to quit their convents, or to remain in them on condition of leading there an edifying life and of listening to the Word of God. If any one thought that he had ground of complaint against the king, he was to institute proceedings against him before the Diet. The crown was declared to be henceforth hereditary. This compact was signed by four hundred nobles and by the deputies of the towns and the country districts. From this time the bishops ceased to be members of the Diet of which they had formed a part for six centuries; and the evangelical religion was publicly professed. The Reformation was thus established in this northern kingdom in the same year and in the same manner as it had just been established in a petty republic in the centre of Europe.^[364]

It was the king’s intention to set at liberty immediately 221such of the bishops as were still in confinement, and he caused the offer to be made to them, requiring only in return that they should not meddle with affairs of state, that they should not resist the Reformation, and that they should lead a peaceable life. The majority agreed to these terms; and the king not only restored to them their hereditary estates, but, in addition, made liberal presents to many of them. The best treated was Ove Bilde, who had defended his castle with cannon, and who, respected by every one, received as a fief the estate of Skovkloster, near Nestved. Towards the close of his life he embraced the evangelical doctrine. One bishop only, Roennov, absolutely refused submission. He had changed with every wind, but he remained steadfast now. Of a character at once feeble and fiery, he protested against the course adopted towards him, and his indignation vented itself in sharp sayings and violent gestures. This restless and versatile man was removed successively to four or five castles, and at last died, in 1544, in this same town of Copenhagen, where the people continued to believe that he had aimed at establishing himself as king. Christian III. reunited the castles of the bishops to the domains of the crown; but the rest of the properties of the bishops he assigned, by Luther’s advice, to the hospitals, the schools, the university and the churches. It had been his intention to give an important position to the ‘third estate’; but in this he did not succeed. This class, consisting of workmen without moral weight, and peasants without intelligence, had to wait till their time was come.^[365]

The organization of the Evangelical Church was no light task. The king felt the want of some Protestant theologian who was competent to undertake it. At Flensborg, in 1529, he had made the acquaintance of Pomeranus, the friend of Luther, who had organized the churches of 222Pomerania, his native country, of Brunswick, Hamburg, and Lübeck. Pomeranus, whose original name was Bugenhagen, was superintendent at Wittenberg, and was a man of a conciliatory and disinterested nature. He could distinguish between things essential and things indifferent; he attached himself to the spirit still more than to the letter; and on these grounds seemed to be peculiarly fitted to give a constitution to the Danish Church. The elector of Saxony consented to give him up, first for a year, and afterwards for two years. In 1537, therefore, Luther’s friend arrived at Copenhagen with his family and several students from Wittenberg. He reorganized the university of Copenhagen, and delivered their courses of lectures, and diffused instruction and the knowledge of the Scriptures among the clergy. At the same time, in co-operation with the reformers of Denmark, Tausen, Wormorsen, Chrysostom, Sadolin, Peter Larssen and others, he gave a constitution to the renovated Church of Denmark. On the 12th of May, 1537, the birthday of Christian III., the king and queen were crowned by the reformer. ‘Pomeranus is in Denmark,’ wrote Luther to Bucer, ‘and all that God does by his hands prospers. He has crowned the king and the queen as if he were a real bishop.’^[366] On September 2, he consecrated the new evangelical bishops. Wormorsen was made bishop of the former primatial see of Lund, but its metropolitan privileges were abolished. Palladius, a disciple of Luther and Melanchthon, who had spent at Wittenberg almost all the time during which the Reformation was in progress in Denmark, was appointed, doubtless on the recommendation of Pomeranus, bishop of Zealand, and he exercised also a kind of general supervision. Tausen was not at this time made a bishop. Are we to suppose that he declined the office? Or were some afraid to raise to a bishopric this bold pioneer who had made himself enemies 223by the freedom of his ministry? He was, however, invested with the office, four years later, as bishop of Ribe.^[367]

The very day on which the bishops were consecrated the constitution of the Church was promulgated. It treated, in the first place, of pure evangelical doctrine and of the sacraments; next of the education of the young and of schools; of ecclesiastical customs and of their uniformity; of the duties of the superintendents and of provosts; of the revenues of the Church for the maintenance of ministers and the poor; and of the books which might be used by the pastors to enlarge their knowledge. The writings of Luther and Melanchthon were especially recommended.^[368]

The Danish Church was thus transformed; and from a church of the pope had become a church of the Word of God. Unfortunately it was unable to stand fast in the liberty into which it was born. The state claimed too much authority over its affairs.

The Reformation was likewise established in other countries bordering on Denmark, and these demand at least a moment’s attention. We must take a hasty survey of Norway and Iceland.

The Reformation in Denmark involved in it that of Norway. The commercial relations of this country with England and its proximity to Sweden had contributed to increase the number of Protestants within its borders. But there was no region of the north in which Roman Catholicism had more resolute adherents. We have seen that Christian II. had been favorably received there when he appeared as champion of the papacy. Archbishop Olaf Engelbrechtsen was one of his partisans, and kept up intercourse with the protectors of the prince, with his 224brother-in-law, Charles the Fifth, and his son-in-law the elector-palatine. As soon as this prelate heard of the imprisonment of the Danish bishops he fancied himself likewise a ruined man, and, struck with terror, had his vessels equipped and all his property and the most costly treasures of the Church put on board, and then fled to the Netherlands. Christian III. was acknowledged in Norway; but the country lost its independence and was united with the kingdom as one of its provinces. The Norwegian Church was for some time in a lamentable condition.

‘Our brethren in Norway,’ said Palladius, bishop of Zealand, ‘are like sheep that have no shepherd.’^[369] Nevertheless, one or two influential men of the country took part in the work of reform. Johan Reff, bishop of Opzloe, went to Copenhagen, and there resigned his temporal power and accepted the new constitution of the Church. Geble Petersen, bishop of Bergen, also declared publicly for the Reformation. He refused to marry, he said, in order that he might be able to devote himself entirely to the public service. He gave up his whole fortune towards the foundation of a school, the repair of his cathedral, and the erection of a parsonage-house. He gave instruction daily in the school which he had founded, and urgently requested Palladius, bishop of Zealand, who held him in high esteem, to send him masters and ministers; but he did not succeed in getting them. The fervent Catholicism of certain Norwegians was alarming to the Danes. It was rumored at Copenhagen that in Norway people were killing the pastors. The constitution of the Danish Church was, however, introduced into the country. Christian III. commanded that the Word of God should be purely and plainly taught there. But there was an active party which offered a vigorous opposition to Protestantism. A gale was blowing in the country districts which threw to the ground whatever the Government 225attempted to set up. The monks were stirring up the peasantry to revolt. The people when urged to build parsonage-houses for their pastors refused to do so. Nevertheless the Reformation gradually got the ascendency; but it appears to have been mainly the work of the Government.^[370]

We have already spoken of the Reformation in the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein.^[371] The townsmen of Flensborg, in 1526, discharged twelve priests and set evangelical ministers in their places. In the same and the following years the Reformation was established at Hadersleben, Schleswig, Itzehoe, Rendsburg, Kiel, Oldenburg, and other towns. All the measures of the Government were marked by mildness and patience; and the kingdom of Christ made progress by its own inward power.

Iceland, that island of frozen mountains and subterranean fires which heave up and shake the land, and then burst forth in eruptions, so that the region is a wonderful combination of burning lava and eternal ice—Iceland also was to become acquainted with the Reformation. Icebergs floating down from the polar regions sometimes environ it and destroy the crops; but knowledge, Divine words, and evangelical teachers were one day to arrive there from the East; and this remote island of the North was thus to be exposed to the beneficent shining of a sun which brings life and prosperity into the most desolate regions.

For more than a century before this time the Icelanders had made bitter complaint of the harshness of their bishops. Real despots they were—whose punishments were so cruel that the unhappy persons on whom they were inflicted declared that they should prefer death. At the epoch of the Reformation the two prelates of the island were—Oegmund Paulsen, bishop of Skalholt, and 226Johan Aresen, bishop of Holum, both priests worthy of their predecessors. The latter, an ignorant, domineering, obstinate, and vindictive man gave himself out for a descendant of the kings of Denmark and Norway, and even of Priam, king of Troy, and he was very proud of it. The character of Bishop Oegmund was less violent; but both he and his colleague were far more like feudal barons of the Middle Ages than shepherds of the Lord’s flock. At the time of the election of the bishop of Holum, Oegmund had supported a different candidate; consequently Aresen had sworn mortal hatred to him. This hostility of the two prelates occasioned division among the inhabitants of the island to such an extent that, in 1527, civil war was on the point of breaking out. They were, however, at last induced to settle the quarrel by a trial by single combat, a method not very agreeable to the spirit of the Gospel. Each of the two prelates selected his champion; and the two knights, representatives of the bishops, appeared armed cap à pied, and struck terrible blows at each other. Oegmund’s champion was the victor.^[372] How would these strange characters, who were two or three centuries behind the rest of the world, receive the Reformation, which, all unknown to them, had begun to stir all Europe? The answer was not doubtful.

A son of the former bishop of Holum, Oddur Gottschalksen, had been educated in Norway, and had also studied under Luther at Wittenberg. On his return to Iceland, Bishop Oegmund, who had for some time been his father’s colleague, and had known the boy from his birth, took him for his secretary. The prelate hated the Holy Scriptures; and finding one day a copy of the Vulgate in the possession of one of his priests, he snatched the book out of his hands, and flung it away in a rage. Another day, when he was severely rebuking an ecclesiastic who had been so audacious as to censure abuses, numerous enough in Iceland, and particularly the worship 227of images, the poor priest appealed to St. Paul. ‘Paul!’ gruffly exclaimed the bishop, ‘Paul was the teacher of the heathen, and not ours.’ This is a specimen of the bishops of Iceland.^[373] Oddur had gained at Wittenberg the knowledge of the truth. Naturally fond of study he had determined to devote his energies to this rather than to the active ministry; and he had brought with him for this purpose many German and Latin books. As he was aware how the tyrannical bishops of Iceland demeaned themselves towards their inferiors, he was timid and prudent, and did not venture to speak of the Gospel before them or their creatures. Privately, however, he taught the way of salvation to many of his fellow-countrymen; and secretly worked at an Icelandic version of the New Testament. He had witnessed the marvellous effect produced by the translation of his master Luther, and he was in hopes that his own might be the instrument of like good to Iceland. In order that he might be secure against surprise by any indiscreet and fanatical visitor, he had taken up his quarters for this work in a cow shed; and the bishop, supposing that his secretary was copying old documents, supplied him liberally with paper, pens, and ink. Oddur, in his solitary shed, did not confine himself to writing, but he fervently prayed there for Iceland, beseeching that a fertile season, a long summer, might be granted to this region of long winters. The good seed which he scattered began to spring up in men’s hearts. The bishop became aware that something was going on; and it appeared to him that a new doctrine had overleaped the vast interval that separates Iceland from the European continent. He was uneasy, but he expected that he should be able to smother the first germs, by threatening with excommunication all who should teach and profess any other articles of faith than those which he himself accepted.

Oegmund was advanced in years, and was thinking of 228retirement. He had a young Icelander, Gisser Einarsen by name, brought up to succeed him. In opposition to the bishop’s wish, the young man had left Hamburg, where the bishop had placed him, and gone to Wittenburg. It does not appear, however, that the prelate was much vexed with his intended successor; the latter, on the contrary, appears to have exerted a good influence on his patron. Oegmund was somewhat softened by the knowledge of the course of events in Denmark. He sent Einarsen to Copenhagen, with instructions to announce to King Christian III. that he was not an enemy of the Reformation, and that the clergy intended to appoint him—Einarsen—to the office of superintendent of the church of Skalholt. Oddur accompanied the episcopal delegate, anxious to avail himself of the opportunity of getting his Icelandic New Testament printed. Christian III. ordered an examination to be made of this translation, and then commanded that it should be printed, probably at his own expense. Einarsen himself was examined by the professors of Copenhagen, and was then ordained bishop by Palladius, although he was only twenty-five years of age. On his return to Iceland, Oegmund resigned to him the episcopal office.^[374]

But the king did not confine himself to sending a new bishop to the Church of Iceland; he required at the same time that it should receive the new ecclesiastical constitution which he had given to Denmark. This was not an easy matter. The more remote communities lie from the great currents of civilization, whether in mountain regions or in islands, the more tenaciously they cling to the opinions of their forefathers. These rugged islanders therefore declared that, while they were ready to abolish abuses, they would not receive a new faith. In the heart of the aged Oegmund himself was rekindled zeal for the doctrines of his youth, and he seemed desirous of resuming his episcopal duties. But being accused of 229having taken part in a murder, committed in his dwelling, of a person in the service of the king, he was compelled to go to Copenhagen to answer the charge, and there he died. From this time the pious Einarsen entered upon the full exercise of his episcopal functions. He founded schools, compelled many convents to instruct the young, and spared himself no pains in training good ministers. Death arrested him in the midst of his work.

And now Johan Aresen, bishop of Holum, took courage. This violent, ambitious, restless, and yet undoubtedly sincere man had been indignant to see the beginning of the Reformation in Iceland. He wrote to Copenhagen—‘I have never learnt that a king has authority to make changes in matters of religion unless they are enjoined by the court of Rome.’ No sooner had he been informed of the death of his young colleague than he raised a body of troops, about two hundred men, and entered by force of arms into the diocese which had become vacant, firmly resolved to clear it of all traces of reform, and to settle in it his son Bjoern Jonsen as his vicar. Aresen intended to become himself sole bishop of the whole of Iceland. He gave orders to two of his other sons to seize and carry off the new bishop, Morten Einarsen, who had been in due form elected to succeed the late bishop, and who was peaceably making a visitation of his new diocese. Aresen, not satisfied with subjecting him to harsh treatment, composed ballads in which he mercilessly ridiculed and quizzed him. Next, thrusting himself into the place of the lawful bishop, he undertook a visitation of the diocese of Skalholt, taking along with him the captive Bishop Morten. He exhibited him by way of triumph, and compelled him to enjoin on all priests and laymen submission to the bishop of Holum. He re-established everywhere the Roman services, consecrated priests, and did not spare even the last resting-places of the dead. He caused the body of 230Bishop Einarsen to be disinterred, and had it cast into a pit outside the cemetery. This usurping priest went to greater lengths still; he openly threw scorn on the royal power, seized the property of the Church, prosecuted those who offered resistance, and laid the whole country waste. As it was impossible for the royal governor to allow these proceedings he arrested Aresen; and this haughty, passionate priest, who cared for neither faith nor law, heard his adversaries loudly demanding that the land should be rid of this scourge of the Divine anger. He was sentenced to death, and was executed with his sons. Thus perished this fiery champion of the Middle Ages and of the papacy; a death undoubtedly unjust, if he had been struck as a Roman Catholic bishop. But, according to the most authentic documents, the Reformation appears to have had no share in this tragical end of Aresen. He fell a victim to his crimes and to the indignation of his countrymen, who were determined to take vengeance for all the calamities which he had brought down on their country. His partisans, likewise, took their revenge. They put to death several of his judges, indulging in the practices of the most barbarous ages. They seized the executioner of the decree of justice who had given the bishop the fatal stroke, bound him, and, forcing open his mouth, poured melted lead down his throat. After these horrible proceedings the wild energy of the people appeared to be broken, and Christian civilization began to make progress. Schools were multiplied by the Protestant bishops; and the whole of the Bible was translated, printed, and circulated in the vernacular tongue. The Roman services gradually became extinct.^[375] To avoid the necessity of a return to the affairs of this remote island, we have been compelled to anticipate events. It was not till 1550 that the terrible Bishop Aresen was put to death.

We have just considered the Reformation in Denmark; we must now cross the Sound, and enter upon the study of that of Sweden.

At the period of the Reformation, the three Scandinavian states, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, were, as we have stated, united and subject to the same monarch, Christian II. The peoples of these three countries had and still have some features in common; but each of them has also features peculiar to itself. Christian himself appeared under very different aspects in Denmark and in Sweden. Many different elements which we must not forget co-operate in fashioning the history of a people. The nature of a country, its geographical situation, the effect of climate, the various characteristics of its population, their historical traditions, the genius and the aptitudes of races, the intellectual and spiritual cravings of individuals—all these combined with influences from above affect the destiny of nations and have their share in determining a religious revolution. The diversity of these causes is very conspicuous in Sweden. The Scandinavian Alps, peopled with a race of men possessing great liveliness of spirit, who are animated by a strong love of freedom and distinguished by remarkable industrial skill, were the hearth of noble aspirations and the place where those mighty arms were fabricated which gave to their country independence and the Reformation. The personages of history can not be considered apart from the medium in which they lived. The events of the past, the conditions which environed them at the moment of their activity, contributed to the formation of 232their conceptions and to the origination of their actions. The modern theory which would make of political and religious actors mere organs of social necessity, can not be too energetically rejected. Conscience, will, and freedom are the highest principles; but while we insist on and exalt these first causes, we must not disregard secondary causes. Two of these lower elements, nature and race, exerted an influence upon the Swedish Reformation.^[376]

Towards the close of the fifteenth century, an ironmaster named Peter Olafson was living at Orebro, a town situated in Nericia, on lake Helmar. The chief industry of this district was the extraction, smelting, and sale of iron. In this pursuit Olafson had acquired by his labor a certain competence. In 1497 he had a son who was named Olaf, and in 1499 another son who was called Lars or Lawrence. These boys grew up among the iron-works as Luther had done. Olaf was intelligent, lively, and active, but also somewhat violent. The character of Lawrence was of a gentler kind. In the elder boy appeared the features and the character of the inhabitants of Nericia—lofty stature, brown hair, a fine forehead, a serious cast of countenance, a look which spoke of loyalty and of pride, but also indicated obstinacy. Lawrence, on the other hand, bore greater resemblance to the inhabitants of the borders of Gothland, having light hair, blue eyes, a slender figure of the middle height, a physiognomy full of sweetness, and a certain elevation of feeling. It is possible that his mother, Karin, may have been a native of Gothland.^[377]

The two boys grew up amidst the lovely scenery in the neighborhood of the Gothic castle of Orebro, which is flanked by four towers, and is situated on the shores of the lake on which the cargoes of iron are shipped for 233Stockholm. The coming of spring, which is sudden in these regions, filled them with delight. When the snow disappeared, the fields were at once clothed with verdure, the trees were all covered with foliage, and the flowers opened to the sun. The snow-clad peaks which rise up between these provinces and Norway, were colored in the morning with a thousand reflections of purple and gold. The masses of everlasting ice, dazzling in their whiteness, were like flashing crowns which rose majestically above the lakes with which the country is intersected, above the silvery foam of the torrents, the gloomy pine-forests, the delicate foliage of the birch-trees, and the lovely green of the meadows enamelled with the brightest colors. The children in these rural districts used to sport among the bounding flocks, their voices mingled with those of the wild birds; and when they heard the bells ring out from the lofty old towers they seemed to become meditative, and would accompany the peal with their own monotonous chants.^[378]

Some Carmelite monks, residing in a convent at Orebro, were esteemed the greatest scholars in the country, and they kept a school to which the iron-master sent his two sons. Olaf, who was endowed with a keen intellect, took a liking to study, and expressed to his father a wish to devote himself to theology. Lawrence did the same. Peter Olafson was grieved that his sons should relinquish his iron-works, and he considered in what way he could meet the necessary expenses. Nevertheless he, as well as his wife, felt proud to think that his sons were to become scholars; and he consented to their wish.^[379]

Most of the young Swedish students used to resort to 234a foreign university, especially to Paris, where a seminary was established for their benefit. But in these remote cities they often remembered with regret the indefinable charms of their beautiful native land, the cascades on the swift Goeta, the romantic valleys of Wermeland, and the great Wener lake often covered with waves by a fresh north wind. To the beauties of nature were added the pleasures of society. The nobles, the priests, the owners of mines, and the townsmen used to keep open house, and to meet together in friendly parties. In winter the inhabitants of these regions muffled themselves up in furred hats, and overcoats trimmed with otter, and this gave them some resemblance to the bears of their forests. In summer, at the feast of St. John, Orebro resounded with joyous shouts. A tall, greased pole was set up in an open space, and the young people of both sexes, crowned with garlands of leaves and flowers, gave themselves up to racing, dancing, and other exercises. In the night it was customary to go out and gather the usual bouquets, and to hang them on the houses to keep off misfortunes. The young girls in the evening plaited garlands of flowers, which they placed at their bed’s-head, that their fate, of course with regard to marriage, might be revealed to them in dreams.

Olaf Peterson (or Petri), having reached his nineteenth year, was to go abroad in pursuit of knowledge. His masters and his parents, proud of his abilities, cherished high hopes of his future. It would have seemed natural that he should go to the Swedish seminary at Paris, which was founded by a prior of Upsala.^[380] But his mother, the pious and godly Karin, entertained a higher ambition for him. It was her wish to send her beloved son to Rome, the city of the apostles, from which Christendom received its oracles. St. Bridget, a princess of Nericia, celebrated for her marvellous prophecies,^[381] had gone to Rome, and 235before her death had founded an institution to which Olaf might be admitted. He therefore set out for Rome in 1515 or 1516. It is the opinion of some writers that both the brothers left Sweden together; but others suppose that the elder alone quitted his native land at this time. This seems the more probable view, for Lawrence had not yet finished his preliminary studies. But he undoubtedly joined Olaf at a later time.

As soon as Olaf set foot on German soil he heard of Luther. He was told that at Wittenberg there was an Augustinian monk, a doctor of theology, whose preaching was attracting crowds; and that when he expounded the Scriptures it seemed as if new light was rising and shining on Christian doctrine. Olaf listened, and felt drawn by some indefinable attraction towards Wittenberg. But what would his father say? It seemed to him that he could hardly refuse his sanction if he went where the light was shining. He therefore halted on his way to Rome, and boldly took the road to Wittenberg. As soon as he arrived there, he presented himself at the university, passed an examination with credit, and was admitted student. The reformer expounded the Scriptures, and thus led the hearts of men to the Son of God. Olaf was deeply impressed by the power of evangelical doctrine. The words of the reformer were meat and drink to him. Luther soon distinguished him among his hearers, and responded to the admiration of the young Swede with much kindliness. He even indulged the hope that he should one day see him a mighty instrument in God’s hand for the spread of evangelical truth in Scandinavia. Henceforth Olaf lived in intimate relations with the Christian hero. He was an eye-witness of the courage with which Luther affixed his ninety-five theses to the door of All Saints’ Church; and he accompanied the reformer when, at the invitation of the vicar-general of the Augustines, he visited the convents of the order in Misnia and Thuringia.

236Olaf was by nature an enthusiast. A hidden fire burnt within him. He longed for truth and for righteousness, and throughout his life displayed indomitable courage in promoting their triumph. His zeal even carried him too far, and in a riper age he still showed the rashness of youth. Although Luther also would sometimes push resolution to the height of passion, he had too enlightened a mind not to keep his disciple within just bounds; and when the gentle and prudent Melanchthon arrived at Wittenberg, Olaf attended also on his teaching, and enjoyed his intimate friendship. He learnt much in Germany. His masters admired the clearness of his understanding and the eloquence of his speech; and the university, desirous of testifying its esteem for him conferred on him the degree of master of arts. In 1519, the state of affairs in Sweden becoming more critical, Olaf resolved to return home. In taking this step he was supported by Luther’s counsel; and he embarked at Lübeck, on board a vessel sailing for Stockholm.^[382]

No sooner had the ship left the Pomeranian shores and got fairly out into the Baltic than it was assailed by a violent storm, and ran aground on an islet near Gothland. The passengers, however, were saved. The island of Gothland was at this time in a state of unusual commotion. Arcimbold, the papal legate, had sent his brother Antonelli to sell indulgences there, and the latter was exhibiting and retailing with much parade his worthless wares. The disciple of Luther, as indignant as his master had recently been, went to the governor of the island, the famous Admiral Norby: and he, being naturally somewhat despotic, did even more than Olaf requested. He expelled the trader from the island, after confiscating the money which he had already received. The governor did |Olaf’s Return To Sweden.| all that he could to retain Olaf, but in vain. The young man, earnestly longing to go to Sweden, that he might proclaim the Gospel there, re-embarked and returned to 237Stockholm. The German merchants, who for business purposes resorted to the coast towns of Sweden, had brought thither tidings of the Reformation.^[383] The young Goth, however, the Wittenberg student, was to be the principal instrument in the transformation of Sweden.

After sojourning for a time, first at Stockholm, and then with his family at Orebro, Olaf settled at Strengnaes, on Lake Maelar, about half-way between those two places. His brother Lawrence, it seems, had studied in this town and was now there. The bishop of Strengnaes, Matthias Gregorius, a pious man who was not greatly opposed to the precepts of the Reformation, soon discovered the worth of Olaf, consecrated him deacon, and then appointed him his chancellor and entrusted to his care the school connected with the cathedral. The career for which he had so earnestly longed was now opening before Olaf; and he entered upon it with all the ardor of his soul. The young prebendaries were very ignorant, and therefore Olaf, following the example of Luther, explained the Scriptures to them, taught them the holy doctrines of the Gospel, and placed in their hands the reformer’s books. This was the beginning of the Reformation in Sweden.

It encountered, however, a formal and powerful opposition. In vain had Olaf brought the torch of the faith; the clergy cared only to put out the light. Some egotistic and senseless old men would rather have perpetuated in Sweden the reign of barbarism than be themselves deprived of the flattering homage which had hitherto been lavished on them as the sole teachers of doctrine.^[384] The setting forth in the schools of the words of Christ, of Peter, and of Paul, was enough to make the priests immediately cry out ‘heresy!’ Thus spoke Eliæ, a Catholic 238ecclesiastic. Happily, the people were more open to conviction than the doctors were. In Olaf’s teaching there was something luminous, penetrating, living and holy, which arrested the attention of his hearers. He taught them to open and to search the Scriptures; and in them they found unknown truth, and saw there the condemnation of errors which had hitherto misled them. The labors of Olaf, which formed a striking contrast to the idleness of other ecclesiastics, won for him the esteem of all sensible men. In a short time his name became so renowned that students were attracted to Strengnaes from remote towns and country districts, from the picturesque scenes of Wermeland, from the iron and silver mines of Westmannia, from the elevated plateau of Upland, from the wooded hills and smiling meadows of Dalecarlia, from Orebro, Stockholm, and Westeraas. Matthias, rejoicing to see around him a revival of religious life, conferred on the two brothers Petri a mark of his favor by taking them with him when he went to Stockholm.^[385] The good bishop was invited to the capital to be present at the coronation of Christian II., and at the magnificent feasts which were to accompany it. Of these we have already spoken. Our readers will remember that this violent and vindictive monarch had invited thither the nobles, prelates, and councillors of the kingdom whom he suspected of having been adverse to him during the |The Massacre Of Stockholm.| troubles of the country; that after entertaining them for three days with all kinds of merrymakings, he had suddenly ordered them to be seized (November 8, 1520) and conducted from the castle in which they were assembled to the great square of the town, and there had them slain. The father of Gustavus Vasa was one of the number. The report of this frightful massacre rapidly spread through the whole town. Fathers, wives, sons, daughters, and friends were inquiring in distress whether those whom they loved had survived the terrible butchery. 239Olaf and his brother trembled to think that their benefactor Matthias might be in the number of the victims. They hastened to the spot; but what was their horror when they saw the place covered with corpses! They approached, and searching about discovered the body of the pious bishop, bathed in his blood, and with his venerated head lying at his feet. Overpowered with grief at the sight, Olaf burst into tears; and then with the boldness natural to him exclaimed—‘What a tyrannical and monstrous deed! To have treated thus so worthy a bishop!’ He had scarcely uttered these words when his brother and himself were seized by the hair of their heads and dragged by the Danish soldiers to the place where the executioner was at his work. The sword was already drawn, and their heads were just on the point of being struck off, when from the midst of the royal retinue a voice cried—‘Spare those two young men! They are Germans, not Swedes.’ The headsman paused, and the lives of Olaf and Lawrence were saved. Their deliverer was a young man who, while studying at Wittenberg, had lived in close intimacy with them. The two brothers quitted the capital without delay, and returned to Strengnaes, terrified at the frightful slaughter of which they had been eye-witnesses. Their protector had just been assassinated; what was to become of them? Would the work be interrupted? God took care for that.^[386]

Towards the close of the fifteenth century, a child born of poor parents in this very town had at an early age displayed great intelligence; and his father had applied his small savings to the cost of having the lad educated by the monks. He frequently embarrassed his masters by the unexpected questions which he put to them. Lawrence Anderson (this was his name) devoted himself to the Church; spent, it seems, some time at Rome in his youth, visited other European countries, and, after his 240return to his native land, became one of the priests of the cathedral of Strengnaes. Olaf, on his arrival at this town, made the acquaintance of Lawrence, talked with him of the faith which inspired him, and had no difficulty in inducing him to receive the evangelical doctrine. Anderson, who had some time before been appointed archdeacon, felt the inadequacy of the Roman system. To have won him over to the side of the Reformation in Sweden was a fact of great importance, for he was distinguished not only for his intelligence, his attainments, and his eloquence, but his prudence and enterprising spirit.

After the bishop’s death, the administration of the diocese devolved on Lawrence as archdeacon until the election of a new prelate. Under his protection Olaf preached in several churches of the town. He proclaimed energetically that ‘no one ought to trust in mortal beings, such as the Virgin and the saints, but in God alone; that the preaching of God’s Word was of far greater importance than the celebration of mass; that evangelical truth had not been preached in Sweden for centuries; and that confession of our sins ought to be made from the heart to God alone, and not at all to the priest.’ These doctrines, which were joyfully welcomed by many, were by others stoutly rejected. Among those who heard them, no one felt more indignation than Doctor Nils, one of the leading members of the chapter, and an enthusiastic partisan of Rome. He resolutely asserted that Olaf was preaching heresies, and he endeavored to confute the Christian doctrines which the reformer proclaimed, but without success. ‘What,’ said he, ‘reject dogmas and abolish practices which have been for so many ages universally adopted in Christendom!’ But Olaf, under Anderson’s protection, continued to proclaim the truth from the pulpit, and maintained it likewise in disputations which were frequently very stormy.^[387]

241The bonds which united the two Petri and Anderson were day by day drawn closer. The three friends studied the Scriptures together; they conversed about all the reforms which were needed in the Church; and Olaf, in order to encourage Anderson, communicated to him the letters which he received from Wittenberg, whether from Luther or from other champions of the Reformation. In this manner they were spending happy and useful days, when a domestic event occurred to disturb their pious intercourse.

Olaf had not made any long stay at Orebro since his return from Wittenberg. His parents, and particularly his mother, were strongly attached to the Roman Church; and when in her company, while he would talk to her of the Saviour, he had not courage to attack the superstitions of the Church. On a sudden, a message from their mother informed the two brothers of the death of their father, and summoned them to attend the funeral. They set out immediately without hesitation; but at the same time they foresaw the embarrassment which would arise to increase their filial sorrow. Their mother had requested the Carmelite monks to celebrate the funeral ceremony in conformity with the ordinances of the Roman ritual; and the deceased himself had set apart for this purpose a portion of his landed estate. Olaf and Lawrence journeyed to Orebro, and as they went on their way by the shore of Lake Heilmar they were in perplexity and distress of mind. They rejected the doctrine of purgatory and masses offered for the dead; and Olaf, who was no waverer between truth and error, had determined that his father should be buried in a manner accordant with the spirit of evangelical Christianity.^[388]

When they reached their father’s house, the brothers endeavored to console their mother; but at the same time they explained to her in a tenderly affectionate manner that the only purgatory which cleanses from all 242sin is the blood of Jesus Christ; and that the man who believes in the efficacy of the expiatory death of the Saviour enters immediately into the fellowship of the blessed. The pious woman shed bitter tears. Vague rumors had, indeed, reached her respecting the doctrines adopted by her sons; but now she was convinced of the fact by indubitable proofs, as if she had seen and touched them. The eternal repose of her husband was at stake; and Olaf alleged that the ceremonies enjoined by the Church were superfluous; that no mass ought to be said for the salvation of his soul. She wept more and more. ‘Ah, my sons,’ she said, ‘when God gave you to me, and when I made great sacrifices for the sake of having you instructed in the sciences, I did not think that you would become propagators of dangerous innovations in your native land.’ ‘Dear mother,’ replied the sons, deeply affected, ‘when you hear one of the Latin masses, of what use is it to you? Can you even understand it?’ ‘True,’ answered the devout Karin, ‘I do not understand it; but while listening to it, I beseech God with so much earnestness to accept it, that I can not doubt that He answers my prayer.’ Olaf thought that the best thing he could do was to set forth the living faith which inspired him; and he proclaimed Jesus Christ to his mother, as the only way that leads to heaven. He spoke with so much love that at length she yielded and bade them do as they intended. Olaf and Lawrence at once dismissed the monks, and they themselves paid the last honors to their father, with the noble simplicity and the living faith which are inspired by the Gospel. The monks were angry, and declared that the soul of the deceased was doomed to eternal condemnation. ‘Have no fear of that,’ said the sons to their mother, ‘these are mere arrogant and impious words. God is the only judge of the living and the dead.’^[389]

About this time appeared a man who became in Sweden 243the most formidable champion of the Romish faith. Bishop Brask of Linkoping was a priest endowed with immense energy. The outcries of the monks at Orebro were heard as far as Upsala; and in July, 1523, Brask received from the chapter of this metropolitan town a letter in which he was informed that the Lutheran heresy was boldly preached in the cathedral of Strengnaes by one Olaf Petri. It appears that this information was absolutely new to the vehement bishop. Completely devoted to the Roman Church, not even imagining that there could be any other, he was greatly agitated. He heard shortly after that emissaries of the Lutheran propaganda had made their appearance in his own diocese. He looked on this as the beginning of a great conflagration which would consume the whole Church. Of haughty temper and of indefatigable activity, he put himself at the head of the champions of the papacy and swore that he would extinguish the horrible fire. When he learnt that Lawrence Anderson, himself an archdeacon, had embraced these opinions, he could refrain no longer. He wrote to the pope and implored him to name, as speedily as possible, bishops to take the places of those who had perished at Stockholm; ‘but especially,’ said he, ‘in the dioceses bordering on Russia, for the new doctrine which they want to introduce is that of the Russians.’ He then wrote a dissertation on the Russian Church, supposing that he could thus contend against the Reformation and destroy it. But he was greatly mistaken in fancying a likeness in the Evangelical to the Greek Church. The Reformation went further than the Eastern Church. It was not content with going back to the teaching of the councils of the first six centuries, but it returned to Jesus Christ, and to His apostles, and laid its foundations in the Word of God alone. Meanwhile, the Carmelites of Orebro denounced Olaf and his brother before the dean of the cathedral of Strengnaes, charging them with having spoken contemptuously of the 244pope and respectfully of Luther. The reformer made so forcible a reply that the dean was silenced, and thought it more prudent to leave the matter to Bishop Brask. This man, indeed, did not stop short at any half measures, but sent to Rome an entreaty that Olaf should be sentenced to death.^[390] Thus were dangers thickening day by day around the two brothers, and it appeared as if the evangelical seed in Sweden must soon be smothered. Political events of great importance were on the point of changing the face of things and of giving an entirely unforeseen direction to the destinies of the people.

CHAPTER VII.
THE REFORMERS SUPPORTED BY THE LIBERATOR OF SWEDEN.
(1519-1524.)

In the house of an ancient Swedish family, settled at Lindholm, in Upland, was born, in 1496, a child who was named Gustavus and who was afterwards known under the name of Gustavus Vasa. For two centuries members of this family had sat in the Council of the kingdom. It is said that the boy, when only five years old, in his play with other children, usually assumed the part of king. John II., the father of Christian II., who at this period visited his kingdom of Sweden, admired the high spirit of the lad, and giving him a gentle tap with his hand, said, ‘If thou live, thou wilt one day be a remarkable man.’ The prince would have liked even to take him with him to Denmark; but Sten Sture, the administrator of the kingdom, objected. His parents sent him to the school of Upsala; and people have long pointed out, in the neighborhood of the town, the places 245where Gustavus used to play with his schoolfellows. The story is still told how bravely the boy bore himself when he went to a wolf hunt. At the age of eighteen he laid aside his studies to follow the career of arms, and became one of the ornaments of the court of Sten Sture the younger. People used to say—‘What a handsome, alert, intelligent and noble young man!’ Others would add—‘God has raised him up to save his country.’ He served his first campaign with credit in the struggle of the Swedes against the partisans of Denmark; and in 1518 he bore the Swedish standard at the battle of Brannkijrka, at which the Danes were defeated and compelled to retreat. His valor, his eloquence, and his unfailing good humor were universally admired. When Christian II. announced his intention of opening negotiations with Sten Sture, but on condition that hostages should be given him, six men who were held in high honor by their countrymen, and among them Gustavus, entered a boat which was to convey them to the prince. As soon as they had put to sea, a Danish vessel of war fell on their bark, took them on board, and, the wind being favorable, carried them off prisoners into Denmark.^[391]

Gustavus, a victim of this sudden capture, was sent into the north of Jutland, as Tausen had been, and was confined in the castle of Kalloe, under the care of one of his kinsmen, Eric Baner. He used to dine at the table of his host in company with some young Danish officers. ‘King Christian,’ said the latter, fond of playing the braggart, ‘is making preparations for a great expedition against Sweden; we shall soon have a fine St. Peter’s day with the Swedes’—(a papal bull was the cause of the war)—‘and we shall share among us the rich livings and the young girls of Sweden.’ Gustavus, worried by such talk, could no longer eat nor drink nor sleep, and employed himself night and day in devising some means of making his escape from confinement. As he was liked 246by every body, he had no difficulty in getting the clothes of a coarse drover; and dressed in these, one day in September, 1519, early in the morning, he escaped. He walked so fast that he accomplished that day a distance of twelve German miles. On the 30th of the month he arrived safely at Lübeck.^[392]

Eric Baner started in pursuit of him, and reaching the same town a little later reclaimed him. But Gustavus having declared that he was a hostage and not a prisoner, the council refused to give him up. He then sojourned for three months in this Hanse town; and although it was not yet reformed he had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the doctrine of the Reformation. At the same time he was filled with abhorrence at the conduct of the pope to his fellow-countrymen. Sweden, now vanquished, lay groaning under the yoke of Christian; and his only thought was how to go to the help of his country. The magistrates of Lübeck, into whose hands he had delivered himself, gave their consent; and he embarked on board a merchant ship which was bound for Stockholm.

There were now only two towns which continued to hold out against the Danes, Stockholm and Calmar. The former was blockaded by sea and land, and Gustavus could not enter it; but Calmar being blockaded only by sea, he succeeded in making his way to a tongue of land near the walls, and entered the town on the last day of May, 1520. He found the whole town sunk into a state of despondency, and the only reply given to his generous words was a threat of taking his life. The Danish admiral, Norby, having summoned the place to surrender, Gustavus was desirous at all hazards of preserving his independence for the service of his country, and he therefore threw himself into the mountainous district of Smaland. Here he found an asylum among his father’s peasants; but here also the people were losing their courage and 247were ready to bow their heads under the yoke. It was in vain that Gustavus appeared among them at their gatherings. ‘Consider,’ he said to them, ‘what a feast Christian is preparing for you!’ ‘Pooh!’ they replied, ‘the king will not let us want either herrings or salt.’ This was enough for them. Others, angry with the young hero who wanted to disturb them in their peaceful solitudes, even snatched up their arrows and darts and cast them at him. His spiritless countrymen went further than this, and set a price on his head. This people, for want of energy, seemed prepared to submit to any disgrace, and carried despondency and the love of bondage to the pitch of fanaticism. The alarm caused by the Danes was universal; a panic terror had taken possession of all minds. Gustavus alone, inspired with intrepid courage, and with a manly and invincible patriotism, did not despair of raising the dead to life and of winning the victory. He quitted in disguise the district in which his liberty and even his life were continually in danger, and following the byways in order to elude his pursuers, he withdrew to the upper mountain solitudes, and in these he wandered about all the summer. He lived on roots and wild fruit; the meanest food sufficed him. But even this soon failed him; he hungered, and could not tell how to provide for his wants. Driven to extremities, and in total destitution, he betook himself without money, almost without clothes, to the estate of Tarna, in Sudermania, to the house of his brother-in-law, Joachim Brahe. For some months no one had known where he was; and his sister especially had been in a state of cruel anxiety. One fine day she saw him coming; she immediately welcomed and treated him affectionately and with all attention, and thus restored his exhausted powers. His brother-in-law was setting out to attend the coronation of Christian, to which he had been invited; Gustavus entreated him not to go, and declared that for his own part, instead of going to pay court to the Danes, his only 248thought was to drive them out of Sweden. ‘If I do not go in response to the king’s invitation,’ replied Joachim, ‘what fatal consequences will not my refusal involve for my wife and children? Would not your father, and even your mother too, have to pay perhaps with their lives for the affront which I should offer to this revengeful prince? As for yourself, you are free, do what you think right.’ The sister of Gustavus, who was not so cool as her husband, trembled for her brother and implored him with tears to abandon an enterprise which appeared to her to be a rebellion, and which could have no issue but his death.^[393] Gustavus was inexorable to all her prayers. Determined to raise up Sweden again, he took leave of his brother-in-law and his sister, and for some time concealed himself on an estate of his father’s, at Raefsnaes. The ex-archbishop Ulfsson was at this time in a neighboring convent. Gustavus went there, made himself known to the prelate, and learnt from him accurately the condition of the land. The archbishop saw no chance of independence for their common country, and therefore advised him to submit to the new order of things. ‘Even your father,’ said he, ‘has acknowledged Christian, and you are included in the amnesty.’ He offered him at the same time his mediation with the king. The aged prelate and the young noble were one day together in a cell of the convent, talking over the circumstances of the time, and the old archbishop put forth all his eloquence to induce Gustavus to acknowledge the king. Suddenly a noise was heard. A man rushed in in hot haste; he was agitated, looked wild, and remained for some seconds in the presence of these two persons without being able to utter a word: his voice was stifled by the deepest emotion. He sobbed, he burst into tears; he made them understand by signs that some terrible calamity had just fallen upon their country. He was an old servant of 249Joachim Brahe. At last the unhappy man, coming to himself, told them that all the most eminent men of Sweden had just been massacred in the public place of Stockholm by command of Christian, who was authorized by a papal bull; and that the father and brother-in-law of Gustavus were among the victims. ‘Your father,’ said he, ‘might have saved his life by making a full and unconditional submission to Christian. The offer was made to him by the king; but he replied that he would sooner die, in God’s name, with his brothers, than be the only one spared.’^[394] The messenger added that fresh arrests and fresh executions were continually being made. At the tale of this frightful butchery, the archbishop was dumb with horror; Gustavus trembled; but the terrible tidings did not make him despair for his country. On the contrary, they gave fresh strength to the resolution and the courage of his noble heart. He rose, left the prelate immediately, and set out on horseback to Raefsnaes, accompanied by a single attendant.

The sorrowful feelings which at this cruel time weighed upon the heart of the young hero may be imagined. One thought alone stood out clear in his mind—Sweden must be delivered from the most barbarous tyranny. He took the road to Dalecarlia, leaving Stockholm and Upsala on the right; and, keeping clear of Hedemora and Falum, the principal towns of the province, he plunged into this Scandinavin Switzerland, a region bristling with mountains and forming in every age an asylum for refugees. He was determined to conceal himself for some time behind its torrents, its waterfalls, its lakes, its forests, and precipitous rocks. To secure his incognito, he put on the dress of a peasant of the country. The handsome young noble wore a coat of coarse woollen cloth; underneath it a long jacket and leather breeches; a sort of leather petticoat which reached to the knee, stockings as large in 250the lower part as in the upper, and shoes with very high heels and square toes. About the end of November he went to the Kupferberg; offered himself for a workman, and lived there wielding the axe and the spade, and supporting himself on his pitiful wages. He did not shut his eyes to the dangers which threatened him. He knew that in consequence of his escape from the prison in which Christian had immured him, he was more obnoxious to the king than the other nobles. True, an amnesty had been granted to him; but the sole object of this was doubtless to entice him to Stockholm, that he might be sacrificed there like his kinsmen and his peers. The massacre begun in the capital was continued in the provinces. One might have said that the proscriptions of Sylla were renewed. The abbot and five monks of the convent of Nidala had been drowned, by command of Christian, without any form of trial. At Jonköping Lindorm Ribbing had been executed. He had two sons, one nine years old, the other six. The elder boy was hung by his long and beautiful hair, and his head was then severed from the body by a sabre-stroke, and his clothes were covered with his blood. It was then the turn of the younger. The little boy of six said to the executioner, in his childish voice—‘Please do not soil my dress as you have done my brother’s, for mamma would be very much vexed.’ At the sound of these innocent words, the executioner flung his sword away, exclaiming—‘I will never cut off his head.’ But another headsman was ordered to the spot, who decapitated the poor child, and, by command of his superiors, laid his head at the feet of the man who had refused to put him to death. These barbarities which fell on innocent creatures show plainly the dangers which beset the energetic and dreaded Gustavus.^[395]

The man who was to give independence and the Gospel to his native land, was at this time laboring at a 251humble occupation, like a peasant’s son, in a barn at Rankytta.^[396] But it was in vain he disguised himself; his noble bearing and especially his pure speech betrayed him, and he was obliged frequently to change his abode.

He directed his steps towards Ornaes, a seat of mining operations, and applied for work to a wealthy miner, who consented to employ him. Gustavus associated with the servants of the house as one of their own rank; but a female servant, who very much admired the handsome workman and had a keen, observant eye, detected beneath his woollen garment a shirt collar of silk embroidered with gold. In great astonishment she hastened to inform her master. The latter, who had been at the University of Upsala at the same time as Gustavus, now recognized him; and fearing lest he should get into a scrape with the Danes, required him to leave his house. At Ornaes, not far off, lived another old fellow-student of Gustavus, Arendt Perssons. The young fugitive resolved to go to him. He reached his dwelling, a house of singular construction, which was situated near a lake, and with its surroundings formed a charming place of residence.^[397] The master of the house gave Gustavus a most friendly reception, and assured him that he would be safe with him. He introduced him to his wife, and then conducted him to a large room on the second-floor forming an almost perfect square, which was to be his own. But no sooner had Gustavus retired to it than the perfidious Arendt betook himself to the bailiff Bengt Brunsson and denounced his guest. The bailiff, with twenty men on foot, set out to seize the fugitive. But if Arendt was a traitor, his wife had a generous heart. After the departure of her husband she was in great distress, 252for she had guessed, from the expression of his countenance, the purpose for which he had left the house. Pained by the thought of the death which was impending over her guest, she rose, gave orders to make ready a horse and a sledge, and directed two of her men to take Gustavus away without a moment’s delay. The fugitive heard a knocking at his door; he opened it and saw before him two Dalecarlians armed from head to foot, with sugar-loaf hats, according to the fashion of the day. ‘Let us start instantly,’ they said. Tradition has placed on the table of that room, beside the armor and the gloves of Gustavus, a Bible—the book which liberates and makes free indeed.

The hero hastily mounted the sledge and departed. Shortly after, Arendt arrived with the bailiff and his band. The traitor, it is said, never forgave his wife for having saved an innocent man.

Gustavus, still a wanderer, arrived at Swardsjoe, at the house of the pastor Jon; and a notary named Sven Elfson, who lived near, received him into his house. But the gentlemanly bearing of the young man always betrayed him. Suspicious looks were fastened on him, and his pursuers were approaching. The wife of Sven Elfson, alarmed at the imminent danger in which the young noble was placed, and wishing to mystify her household, seized the shovel used for placing bread in the oven and struck Gustavus with it, crying out and calling him a wicked rascal and a lazy boy, and so drove him away. Sven, no less loyal than his wife, immediately undertook to conduct him to some friends with whom he believed he would be safe. But they already heard the footsteps of the bailiff’s horses, who was in pursuit with his twenty troopers. A wagon loaded with straw was standing near, and Gustavus hid himself in it. The horsemen came; as they passed they made thrusts with their halberts into the straw and continued their journey. Gustavus was wounded, but he uttered no cry. Sven Elfson came to 253him; the young fugitive crept out of the wagon stained with blood, but with unfailing intrepidity he mounted a horse and set out. The blood which trickled drop by drop on the snow must inevitably betray him. In order to save him, Sven wounded his horse in the foot, and when any one observed the spots on the road and inquired the cause of them, the Swede boldly pointed to the foot of his beast. At last they reached Marnaes. Two peasants, Ner and Mats Olafsen, friends of Sven, concealed Gustavus under a large fir-tree recently felled in the forest, which covered the ground with its broad, green boughs. In this place he lay for three days and three nights; and in the evenings, when all was quiet, one of the two brothers used to bring him food by stealth.^[398]

During these sorrowful days, in which he was pursued like a wild beast, Gustavus did not forget the task which he had proposed to himself. His eye was on fire when he thought of the tyranny of Christian; but alas! his resolution and his courage were useless. The people were indisposed to follow him. ‘The king,’ they said, ‘strikes only at the nobility and the clergy.’ The dwellers in these wild valleys were accustomed to go in crowds to church during the Christmas festival. Gustavus joined in the devotions of the people in the churches of Raettwiks and Mora. Then, gathering the peasants together as they came out of church,^[399] he endeavored to rekindle in them the love of their country. ‘My good friends,’ said he, ‘you know what you have yourselves suffered under the government of the foreigner. He has shed the blood of our noblest men; my father has fallen under his blows; and the country is now crushed under the feet of our enemies. Let us put an end to this slavery. With God’s help, I will be your captain, and we will die to save the kingdom.’ But the inhabitants of 254these remote valleys knew nothing of the state of things nor of the man who spoke to them. Some of them testified compassion for him, but the greater number begged him to go away. Gustavus, disappointed in his hopes, traversed about the close of 1520 the desert places which separate Eastern from Western Dalecarlia, frequently walking over the ice which cracked under his feet, and exposing himself more than once to the risk of drowning in the course of this mournful and solitary flight. He wandered about in these wild regions dejected and distressed; and his bitterest grief was to see his countrymen wanting to themselves and enduring without regret the most intolerable yoke.^[400]

Soon after he had left Mora, two Swedish gentlemen, Lars Olafsson and Jon Michelsson, arrived there, and they gave to the inhabitants, then assembled for the new year, a thrilling account of the massacre at Stockholm, which set the poor people sobbing. ‘Christian,’ continued Olafsson, ‘is going to impose on the people ruinous taxes, he marches with a gibbet on his right hand and the wheel on his left, and all Swedish peasants are obliged to deliver up their arms to him. He leaves them nothing but a staff.’ At these words the people murmured aloud. They now appreciated the worth of the young man whom they had so ungraciously received, and men were sent out with instructions to search for Gustavus in the villages, the woods, and the lofty rocks. They found him at Saeln, in the parish of Lima, at the foot of the mountains which separate Sweden and Norway, just preparing to cross them.

Without delay Gustavus returned to Mora. The most respectable peasants of these valleys assembled there; and they proclaimed the young noble captain of all the communes of the kingdom of Sweden. Sixteen stout-hearted men offered their services to him as guides, and some hundreds of young men placed themselves under 255his command. When the Danes heard of it they shrugged their shoulders, and spoke of him and his followers as a mere band of brigands prowling about in the woods. But in this movement history discerns the beginning of a most glorious reign. On a Sunday Gustavus arrived at the Kupferberg with several hundred men; and when the people came out from divine service he spoke to them with warm feeling, and gained over to the cause of independence these simple and energetic men, who tried in their turn to gain others. ‘God keep Gustavus, as one drop of the chivalrous blood of our ancient heroes,’ said the men of these valleys to those of Helsingenland. ‘Let us all muster around him.’^[401]

The movement was now becoming important. The bishop of Skara, Dietrich Slaghoelk, whom Christian had named governor of Stockholm, and who had instigated the king to the massacre of November 8, 1520, took the alarm and had a consultation with the magistrates. The town was immediately fortified and a body of six thousand horse and foot soldiers was sent against Gustavus, in the direction of Dalecarlia. His lieutenant, Peter Svensson, a wealthy miner, crossed the Dale with a troop of men whose only weapons were hatchets, pikes, bows and slings, but whose dash was like a thunderbolt. These high-spirited sons of Sweden fell upon the Danish camp and broke it up.^[402]

Gustavus, who was at this time in Helsingenland, immediately set out on his march into Westmannia. Everywhere as he advanced, the peasants joined him; and by the 15th of April he had under him twenty thousand men. He marched on Westeraas, the chief town of the province, and took possession of it on St. John’s Day, 1521. He next formed the siege of Stockholm. As the town was open to the Danes by sea, the siege lasted for 256two years. On April 20, 1523, Christian took flight, leaving the place open to his enemies. A Diet of the kingdom of Sweden was immediately convoked at Strengnaes, for the 7th of June of the same year.

Gustavus, who during his sojourn in Germany had admired Luther, and had appreciated the principles which he proclaimed, was friendly to the Reformation, not, as the Jesuit Maimbourg has said, in the hope of acquiring the Church property, but because some rays of the truth had entered his own soul.^[403] He was soon to have an opportunity of enlarging his acquaintance with it.

Two men who were equally necessary to Sweden, Gustavus the liberator of the nation and Olaf the reformer of the Church, were now present together at Strengnaes. During the sittings of the Diet, Olaf with much energy proclaimed evangelical truth. The members of the Assembly came to hear him, and his discourses produced a deep impression on his hearers. He saw clearly that the bishops and the priests were the chief obstacle to the Reformation. While therefore he lovingly announced the Son of God, he directed his most vigorous attacks against the domineering spirit of the clergy, their love of money, and their idleness and uselessness. He reminded his hearers that the Apostles and the first Christians were simple, sober, and filled with brotherly love, and that by their goodness they won all hearts, while now the priests exasperated the laity by devising a thousand indirect methods of getting their money from them. He inveighed especially against the Roman Church and its unjust decrees.^[404] The bishops, consequently, exclaimed in alarm—‘He wants to bring us back to mendicity and the state of the primitive Church.’^[405]

257The Swedish throne was now vacant, and the assembly offered it to Gustavus. At first he hesitated to accept it, and this not without reason. Most of the fortresses were still in the hands of the Danes, the army and the fleet were in a lamentable condition, and the treasury was almost empty. But as the Swedes were determined to break completely with Denmark, Gustavus came to a decision, and on the 7th of June, 1523, he was solemnly proclaimed king at Strengnaes. Thus was dissolved the union of the three kingdoms, which had lasted one hundred and twenty-six years.

The legate of the pope, Magnus, a native of Linkoping, at this time only thirty-five years of age, had been the representative of the Government of Sweden at the court of Rome. Pope Adrian had sent him back to Sweden as his minister, to oppose the progress of Lutheranism.

Magnus, seeing that Gustavus was evidently the man chosen of God to be set at the head of affairs in Sweden, thought that the best way to accomplish his mission was to flatter him and induce him to accept the crown. But it was no easy matter to check the progress of reform. ‘Verily,’ said Olaf’s hearers, ‘there is more truth in the discourses of the evangelical preacher than in all the fables of the monks.’ A goodly number of souls were won. Young people ardently embraced the Christian truth; professors and students became its apostles. It made its way into families, and women sat at the Saviour’s feet. While some still defended Catholicism as the religion of their forefathers, others assailed it on account of the abuses of the clergy. ‘Heresy,’ said Bishop Brask, ‘is beginning to multiply.’^[406] The bishops, ever more and more alarmed, betook themselves to the king and launched forth in complaints against Olaf and his friends.

This was very annoying to Gustavus, who, although he leaned to the side of reform, felt it his duty for the sake 258of his country to steer his course for a time between wind and water. He called before him the three evangelical preachers, Anderson and the two Petri. It was not without emotion that they appeared in the presence of the prince. ‘You are accused,’ he said to them, ‘of preaching doctrines which have never been heard of before.’ They answered frankly, and set before him with warm feeling the substance of the Gospel. Anderson did more; he boldly declared to the king—‘The ruin of the clergy is their wealth. For them to be rich is contrary to the nature of the ministry, for Christ said that his kingdom is not of this world.’

Gustavus was struck with the loyalty of the reformers and with the force of their speeches, and he conceived for them still higher esteem. But he was a prince. ‘I promise you my support,’ he said, ‘so far as circumstances shall allow. I cannot at present avow myself your friend. I must beg of you not even to let it be known that I am on your side, for I might thereby lose the confidence of the nation, confidence which is essential to me in my endeavor to secure its welfare. Nevertheless you may rest assured that I shall express myself distinctly on this important subject as soon as the fit time is come.’ We have evidence of the sincerity of these words. ‘From the beginning of our reign,’ wrote Gustavus to Luther, ‘we have been steadily attached to the true and pure Word of God, so far as God has given us grace.’^[407]

The effect of his conversations with Anderson and likewise with Olaf and Lawrence was to make the prince more and more a friend to the Reformation; but for some time yet he was a secret friend.^[408]

It was not long, however, before Gustavus gave a mark of his respect for one of the three evangelists, by appointing Anderson chancellor of the kingdom, attaching him 259to his court and making him his most confidential friend. By this choice Gustavus gave evidence of great discernment. Beneath the Christian he discerned the statesman, and the voice of history has confirmed his judgment. ‘Anderson,’ this voice has said, ‘was one of the greatest men of his age. His was a genius which nature had made profound, and reflection had expanded. Although he was ambitious of great place, he was still more ambitious of great things. The independence of his character was accompanied by a sagacity which grasped every thing from first principles to remotest consequences, and by an intelligence which was fertile at once in lofty projects and in expedients adapted to their successful execution. His eloquence encountered the less opposition from the fact of its starting-point being solid reason. His contemporaries did not perceive all the loftiness of his character nor the influence which he exerted on the Swedish revolution.’ Such is the view of one of the most celebrated French writers of the last century, who cannot be suspected of any religious partiality.^[409] Day by day the king conversed with his chancellor on the concerns of the kingdom. They talked together of the bishops and of other members of the clerical order, and of what must needs be done to bring the ministry into greater conformity with Holy Scripture and to make it more useful to the people. Gustavus saw well what great reforms it was necessary to introduce; but he felt conscious that he was too young and not at present sufficiently established on the throne to venture to undertake them. Anderson showed him the necessity of strengthening in Sweden the evangelical element, and pointed out the two brothers Petri as men well qualified for the work. Gustavus then wrote to Luther to ask what he thought of them. Luther bore noble testimony to their moral character, their devotedness, and their doctrine. ‘I entreat you, Sire,’ he added, ‘put your 260trust in God, and accomplish the Reformation. For this purpose I wish you the blessing of the Lord. You will not be able to find for this good work men more competent or more worthy than the two brothers of whom you speak.’ The king no longer hesitated. He sent Lawrence to Upsala as professor of theology; and, wishing to have Olaf near him, he named him preacher in the Church of St. Nicholas, at Stockholm. Then, in pursuance of his inclination to avail himself, in affairs of state, of the abilities of Christian men, he also nominated Olaf secretary of the town, a secular office which in those times was frequently given to intelligent and well-informed churchmen. In Olaf’s view, however, his first calling was that of minister of the Word, and from the pulpit of the great church the eloquent preacher had the opportunity of daily proclaiming the Gospel.^[410]

The two reformers had thus risen to important but difficult positions in Sweden. A career of conflict, of alternate successes and reverses, was now opening before Olaf. His faith was sincere and living. In personal appearance he was dignified and grave, full of graciousness and of frankness. His glance was penetrating, his speech firm and energetic. His keen and clear understanding enabled him readily to unravel the most intricate affairs. He was incessantly at work, and labor was very easy to him. But his temper was quick, and he could not always subdue the passion which impelled him. He had a rather too high opinion of himself, and did not easily forget offences. Suspicious and sensitive, he lent a too willing ear to false reports, especially when they touched the king. Nevertheless, Olaf was an eminent character and a man adapted, in spite of his faults, to make a powerful impression on his countrymen. Crowds attended his sermons. The boldness of his preaching and of his character captivated many souls, and conversions were numerous. He was not long left to work alone. Michael 261Langerben, a Swede, having returned from Wittenberg, was appointed by the king to be Olaf’s colleague.

The powerful preaching of these men, the favor shown to them by the king, and the eagerness with which the people flocked to hear them, stirred up the Roman clergy. Violent speeches were everywhere spreading agitation. The priests, the monks, and their creatures invaded the church while Olaf was preaching, threw stones at him, and held up their staves threateningly, and even made attempts on his life. One day, bent on putting an end to the evangelical preaching, these furious men made a dash at the pulpit and smashed it to pieces.

The legate, Magnus, an able and prudent man, who was by no means a fanatic, knew very well that the reform could not be checked by throwing stones. He drew up a plan for a campaign less noisy, but in his opinion more effective, and undertook to persuade the king by specious reasonings to continue faithful to the papacy. The prince was obliged to go to Malmoe for the purpose of arranging, in conjunction with Frederick, king of Denmark, the great business of the separation of the two kingdoms. The primate and his friends thought that if they obtained some concessions before the departure of Gustavus, they would be able to act during his absence with greater freedom and to strengthen in Sweden the authority of Rome. ‘Sire,’ said Magnus to the king, ‘the preaching of Olaf is diffusing in the kingdom a heresy full of peril. Withdraw your protection from this disciple of the Wittenberg heresiarch; prohibit Luther’s books, and thus win for yourself the glory of a Christian prince.’ But Gustavus was too resolute a man to turn back. ‘I have never heard,’ he replied, ‘that any one has convicted Luther of heresy. Since the books which are against him are admitted into the kingdom, those which he has written are entitled to the same privilege; and with respect to his disciples, I shall take good care not to withdraw from them my protection. It is my duty to protect every 262one of my subjects against violence, from any quarter whatsoever.’^[411]

Gustavus did more than this. Aware of the ambition of the legate, he considered whether he could not make use of him as a bridle to hold in check the rage of the clergy. The archiepiscopal see of Upsala was vacant. The Roman Church had sometimes converted its most bitter enemies into its most determined champions by awarding them the tiara. Profiting by this example, Gustavus named the legate of the pope primate of the kingdom; and from this time Magnus displayed great deference to the king and to his wishes.

But the post of defender of Rome was not to remain vacant. In action a resolute spirit is of more importance than official position. Bishop Brask became the powerful champion of the papacy in Sweden. An inflexible, violent, and intolerant man, more of a papist than the legate himself, he was beside himself with rage at seeing the success of the Reformation, and he hurled excommunication against any one who read or sold evangelical books. ‘The reformers,’ he said, ‘by trampling under foot ecclesiastical order, commit the greatest of crimes.’ Making use without scruple of the coarse expressions so common in that age, Brask said that the Lutherans pretended to re-establish the liberty of Christ, but that they ought rather to say the liberty of Lucifer. Another dignitary of the Romish Church frequently wrote Luterosi (the filthy) instead of Lutherani. One day some deacons of Upland, of whom Brask inquired on what they based their belief, having replied—‘On the doctrine of Paul,’ the bishop started from his seat, exclaiming—‘Better that Paul had been burnt than that he should thus be known and quoted by every body!’

The bishop of Linkoping, when he discovered that Magnus in becoming primate of the kingdom had also become tolerant, seriously expostulated with him. ‘If 263you do not vigorously oppose the ravages of heresy,’ he said, ‘you are unworthy to be the successor of so many illustrious prelates, and as legate of the pope you are dishonoring your chief.’ Magnus was in a most embarrassing position. He had two masters who were opposed to each other, and he found it impossible to serve at once both the pope and the king. Bound by the requests of Gustavus, and closely watched by the able chancellor, he thought that the easiest plan would be for him to disappear and leave Brask to carry on the conflict in his stead. To the bishop he therefore said—‘I am going to leave the kingdom for a year; I shall beg of the pope to entrust you with the suppression of these disputes; but let both parties abstain from insults.’

Brask had no mind to let the prelate escape and throw upon his shoulders the burden which he could not bear himself. He did not actually refuse to act, but he wished that each should do his own duty. ‘The more indulgence that is shown to heretics,’ said he, ‘the greater will the mischief become. Summon Olaf and his brother before your chapter of Upsala, that they may either clear themselves of the imputation of heresy or, as heretics, be condemned.’ This fanatical prelate thought that, in the absence of the king, it would be easy to get the two brothers burnt.^[412]

Here was fresh trouble for the archbishop. If he refused to comply with the demand of Brask, the latter would accuse him to the pope of keeping up a secret understanding with the heretics. He resolved therefore to assemble the members of his chapter at Upsala, at the beginning of October, 1524, and cited Olaf and Lawrence to appear before them. When the two reformers entered, the threatening looks of these proud priests were fastened on them, and they vied with each other in making the most hateful imputations, and in assailing them with the grossest insults. Olaf and Lawrence answered 264quietly, and showed by clear proofs the truth of the evangelical doctrine. Their opponents, unable to reply, contented themselves with calling upon them, in the name of the Roman pontiff, to renounce the doctrines of Luther. ‘Otherwise,’ they added, ‘we shall fulminate the anathema against you. Bethink you, therefore, of the terrible consequences of excommunication, even in the case of the most powerful sovereigns. Reflect on the dangers into which you are hurrying your country; for the pope will urge all the princes of Europe to unite together for the re-establishment of the order which you are endeavoring to break up.’ ‘There is no power in the world,’ replied the two brothers, ‘not even anathemas nor martyrdom, which can compel us to hide the truth. The highest gain which we covet is the loss of all, even of our lives, for the establishment of the Gospel and for the glory of God.’

The chapter, then, had recourse to other weapons, cunningly insinuating that if Olaf and Lawrence re-entered the Church they would fill its highest offices. ‘No honors are high enough,’ replied Olaf, ‘to induce us to conceal the Gospel.’ This was too much for the members of the tribunal; and they demanded the severest measures. The primate declared the two reformers to be cast out of the Catholic Church, as Luther was, and anathematized by Rome. Brask now thought that the time was come for extirpating the Reformation; and he sought from the German prelates all the information they could give, of a kind adapted to render it odious. They forwarded to him a mass of shameful calumnies.

This prelate, in a passion of hatred, now established a printing-press near his own house, and put into general circulation books tending to the prejudice of the reformers, prohibiting at the same time the reading of any of the writings of Luther or of his disciples. It seemed that the evangelical cause must sink under the blows of a powerful hierarchy which conspired together for its destruction.^[413]

Gustavus Vasa, as we have seen, had gone to Malmoe for the purpose of arranging with Frederick, king of Denmark, such measures as were required by the grave circumstances in which they were both placed. Christian II. had been set aside, and these two princes were to divide his dominions between them. The compact between Denmark and Sweden was signed at the same time that Olaf and Lawrence appeared before the chapter of Upsala (October, 1524). Shortly after this formality, Gustavus returned to his capital.

No sooner had the king passed within the gates of Stockholm than he heard of the disorder and disturbances which filled the town. He gave orders to be taken straight to the castle; but a very strange sight met his eyes in the streets through which he had to pass. He saw them thronged with priests, tradesmen, women and children, who were running about in all directions, many of them uttering wild cries. On reaching the square he found there heaps of broken images and fragments of statues, with monks standing beside the débris, weeping and touching with trembling hands those heads and arms and mutilated bodies, crying out in piteous tones—‘Behold, our saints, the blessed patrons of the kingdom, how shamefully they have been treated!’ There were also some of the townsmen standing by, who looked on the destruction of these idols as a pious deed. Some giddy ones among them even bragged of their exploits. One young man beginning to laugh and to mock at the pope,^[414] 266the populace had fallen on him and treated him in a horrible manner.

Gustavus could hardly suppress his astonishment and indignation. As soon as he arrived at the castle he sent for Olaf and his colleague Langerben, and asked them in angry tones what all this meant. They answered that they had nothing to do with these violent proceedings, but that they were instigated by certain merchants of the Netherlands who had lately arrived; that two of them especially, Knipperdolling and Melchior Rinck, declaring that the Holy Ghost spake by their lips, had secretly made partisans; and that then, feeling sure of their case, they had taken possession first of St. John’s Church, and afterwards of other churches, had preached in them on the Apocalypse, and had cast down the images and broken the organs to pieces.^[415] ‘And how is it,’ said the king, ‘that you have tolerated such disorders?’ Olaf replied that the only effect of opposition on their part would have been to excite these enthusiasts still more; that the best course was to wait till the people came to their right mind, which they were sure to do ere long. Gustavus testified his displeasure at the toleration of disturbances calculated to undo all that he had done. He summoned the two iconoclasts to his presence, commanded them to depart the kingdom, and declared at the same time that if they ever entered it again, it would be under pain of death.

While the fanaticism of the ‘Illuminated’ was turning Stockholm upside down, the Roman clergy took advantage of it to bring back to their side those who had appeared friendly to the Reformation.

Gustavus, who possessed in a high degree those gifts of great men which make a look or a word enough to persuade men, saw that his first duty was to pacify the people. According to the custom of newly elected kings, he 267took what was called Eric’s road, and, making a progress through all the provinces of his kingdom, he appeared everywhere like a father full of love, even for the least of his subjects. He counselled the ecclesiastics to preach the Gospel with meekness, and the flocks to put it in practice. A storm had passed over Sweden, but the presence of Gustavus was like the beneficent sun which lifts up the drooping grass and restores vigor to the blasted trees.

The ministers, on their part, sought to enlighten men’s minds; and while Olaf preached the Gospel with power and boldness, his colleague proclaimed it with prudence and meekness. Discourses and dogmas were not enough. Olaf aimed at morality, at a Christian life; and thought that it was his duty to begin with the heads of the churches, who rejected marriage, and had formed for the most part illicit connections. In his view it was a necessity to substitute for an impure celibacy the holy institution divinely established from the beginning of the world. He knew that such a course would give rise to interminable complaints; but nothing could hinder him when the question was one of obedience to a command of God. He determined to do as Luther did. He made sure of the king’s approval; and on Septuagesima Sunday, in January, 1525, he married a virtuous lady belonging to a Christian family of Stockholm. The ceremony, at which the king was present, was conducted, contrary to the usual practice, in the Swedish language. This marriage afforded the priests an opportunity of raising a great storm.^[416] Because a reformer had obeyed a command of God, they cried out at his impiety: ‘All rule is abolished,’ they said, ‘public order is at an end, and the most holy things are trodden under foot.’

The bishop of Linkoping, as usual, headed the opposition, or rather constituted it in himself alone, and 268lamented the timidity of his colleagues. Brask was an eminent character, the best informed and most discreet man among the Swedes. To him Sweden was indebted for the introduction of useful industries. He it was who first conceived the project of uniting the Baltic with the North Sea by means of a canal, a plan which has been carried out in our own days. He procured from abroad not only breviaries, but Italian law-books and poets, some of them even profane. When one of his friends went to Rome he begged him to bring back for him the ‘Orlando Inamorato’ and other books of the same kind.^[417] He stood forward as the champion of the liberty of the Church, of the kingdom, and of the nobility; and looking upon the marriage of priests as a tremendous attack on the Romish system, he rushed to the breach to defend it. He had welcomed the young king with a certain air of paternal condescension, and called him ‘dear Gustavus.’ He now wrote to him a violent letter. ‘This antichristian measure,’ he said, ‘is causing a great scandal in the kingdom. Never since the age of the Apostles has a priest dared to perpetrate so shocking an offence. What confusion, what bitter dissensions I foresee in the future! And it is on you Sire, that the blame will be laid; on you, who by your presence have sanctioned this marriage which is contrary to the laws of the Church and the State.’ He concluded by pronouncing a sentence of excommunication against Olaf. Gustavus too comprehended, although in a different sense from Brask’s, the importance of the step taken by the Stockholm pastor, and nobly came forward in his defence. He replied to the prelate that Olaf was prepared to prove by the Word of God the lawfulness of his union; and that for his own part he considered it strange that a man who acted in conformity with the law of God should for so doing be laid under an interdict, while every one was aware to what scandalous licentiousness the priests were addicted, and without 269being rebuked for it.^[418] ‘I should very much like to know,’ added the king, ‘whether such monstrosities are more in accordance with the divine law than marriage which is ordained of God for all. There is not a single passage in the Bible which prohibits the marriage of priests; and as for papal ordinances, they are everywhere falling into discredit. The antiquity of a custom can not make it justifiable.’ The only effect of this reply was to exasperate Brask. He addressed Archbishop Magnus, who took no notice of his very bitter reproaches. He travelled all over his diocese, and prohibited priests and laymen from touching, were it only with the tips of their fingers, the foolish teachings of Luther, lest the contagion should infect and be the death of them. Brask was at least successful in stirring up the people against Olaf and Lawrence. In every direction were heard the exclamations—‘Cursed heretics! disfrocked monks!’ Olaf published, according to the announcement of Gustavus, a work in which he maintained the doctrine that marriage is honorable in all.^[419]

This servant of God was now especially engaged on another task. While men were loading him with insults, he was employing the time which his ministry left at his disposal in translating the Scriptures into Swedish. The Chancellor Anderson, on his part, had done the same. These versions were printed, and ere long the bishops loudly murmured because the books of the New Testament were being read in every house.^[420] ‘Well, then,’ said the king, ‘translate it yourselves, as has been done in other nations.’ The bishops, finding that their authority was every day diminishing, applied themselves,^[421] 270though sorely against their will, to the task which the king proposed to them; and they distributed the books of the New Testament among the various chapters of canons, and the two monastic orders, the Dominican and the Carthusian. The bishops, the canons, and the monks were about to suffer still greater annoyance than the obligation to read the Bible.

The Diet which met at Wadstena, at the beginning of 1526, persuaded the king to have himself crowned, adding that the crown should be hereditary. But Gustavus said that before being crowned king he was bound to provide for the maintenance of the kingdom. On investigating the resources of the State and of the Church, he found that the annual expenditure of the former was more than double its income, while the revenues of the Church were much larger than those of the country. The bloated priesthood were swallowing up the people. The king demanded that the Diet should grant to the State two-thirds of the church tithes, which would enable it to provide for the wants of the nation, and to reduce the taxation which pressed heavily on the third estate. The clergy were terrified;^[422] bishops and abbots inquired what was to become of them. Brask, indignant at the want of courage of which his colleagues had given so many proofs, told them that they were mere dastards, and got just what they deserved. They had also to endure his sarcasms; they had lost every thing, money and honor too.

All these distressed clerks turned now to the primate. Magnus, who had hitherto habitually tried to please Gustavus, changed his course entirely when he saw that the purses of the priests were threatened! He resolved to have done with reserve, to burn his ships, and haughtily to oppose clerical to civil authority. ‘Have no fear,’ he said to the bishops assembled about him, ‘I will let the king see my power, and I will compel him to bend before us.’ Without any delay the primate established his court 271on a very grand scale, and received such of the gentry as were dissatisfied with the king. He clothed himself in purple and gold. He undertook a visitation of his diocese with a following of two hundred persons, partly gentlemen and partly guards. Whenever he entered a church rich carpets were spread under his feet, and when he took his meals he ordered the door to be thrown open to the public as a prince does. Every one was struck with the pomp, the solemnity, and the state with which he was surrounded, with the number of the dishes and the magnificence of his table, for in all these things he surpassed the king himself.^[423]

But neither the opposition offered to the ministers of the Gospel, nor the pride and ostentation of the prelate, could stop the advance of the Reformation. Gustavus was convinced that God made man for progress, and that if there is progress for the body, there is the same likewise for the heart and the understanding. In his view the Reformation constituted a great advance in the sphere of religion; and he saw already many nations of Europe, awakened by the Gospel, marching ahead of others. Why should Sweden be left behind? In order to advance, courage and resolution were undoubtedly necessary; but Gustavus was not deficient in either of these qualities.

The feast of St. Erick, celebrated on the 18th of May, was a great day in Sweden. It was the day on which honors were paid to the memory of King Erick IX. (1155), who had attempted to introduce Christianity in Finland, and had founded for his subjects wise institutions. An annual fair was held at this time at Upsala, to which large numbers of people were attracted. The king visited the fair in May, 1526, attended by his Chancellor, Lawrence Anderson, and two thousand horsemen. He desired to conciliate the affections of the people, which the priests and the monks were stirring up against 272him, and to put the haughty archbishop back into his own place. He left his armed men in their quarters, and rode on horseback among the crowd, smiling on the people with a gracious air, which won all hearts. Having reached the top of one of the hills in the neighborhood of Upsala he halted, and assuming for the moment in addition to his royal functions those of a reformer, made a speech, sitting on his steed, to the multitude around him.^[424] ‘What is the use of the service in Latin?’ he said; ‘what is the use of the monastic life?’ Many expressed their agreement with these sentiments; but some peasants, who came perhaps from Linkoping, cried out, ‘We mean to keep the monks. They are not to be driven away; we will sooner feed them ourselves.’ The king, waiting for an opportunity which was soon to offer itself, of bringing down the pride of the priests, rode down the hill, returned to the town, and went to the palace of the archbishop, who had prepared a splendid banquet for him, and purposed to display before him all his magnificence. Towards the close of the feast the primate rose, determined to place himself on a level with the king, and holding his glass in his hand turned to Gustavus and said, ‘Our Grace drinks to the health of Your Grace.’ ‘Thy Grace and Our Grace,’ replied Gustavus, coolly, ‘cannot find room under one roof.’^[425]

The king then called together the chapter of the cathedral and said, ‘By what right does the Church possess temporal power?’ The archbishop, disconcerted by the answer which the prince had made to him at table, remained silent. Iveran, provost of the cathedral, spoke in his stead, and named the Decretals as the foundation of their rights. The king, not satisfied with this authority, 273resumed: ‘Is there in Holy Scripture a single passage which supports your privileges?’ Every one was silent. At length Doctor Galle, who was reputed the foremost theologian of Sweden, said, ‘Sire, the kings your predecessors conferred these privileges on us and maintained them.’ ‘Certainly then,’ replied Gustavus, ‘if kings conferred them, kings may withdraw them. For this purpose it is only necessary for them to recognize the fact that it was for want of knowledge these institutions were founded aforetime to humor superstitious requirements and to promote personal interests.’

The archbishop and the bishops, seeing so clearly the signs of the storm which was threatening to overthrow them, resolved, in order to control it, to take the initiative, and attack their adversaries.^[426] They therefore went in a body to the king, and the archbishop, in the name of them all, required of Gustavus that he should show himself the protector of religion. ‘The version of the New Testament made by Olaf,’ said he, ‘is simply Luther’s version. This is already condemned by the pope as heretical. Let Olaf and his followers, therefore, be brought to trial, as guilty of heresy.’ Gustavus, believing that he could turn this demand of the clergy to account in advancing reform another step, replied—‘I consent to a sentence of capital punishment against Olaf and his followers, on condition that they are justly convicted of the crime of heresy of which you accuse them. But I have observed so many beautiful traits in the life and the habits of this minister, that I question whether it is not out of hatred that you accuse him of heresy. Theologians are accustomed,’ he added sternly, ‘to blacken in this way those who do not think as they do.’^[427]

274The archbishop was much moved by this reply.^[428] The imprudent prelate exclaimed—‘I take upon myself to convict Olaf of heresy, on the most important points of the faith, and this in the presence of your Majesty and all your ministers.’ Magnus, mistaking his strength, had gone too far. Gustavus hastened to take advantage of it. He commanded a conference to be held such as was asked for, entertaining no doubt that it would turn to the triumph of the truth. He invited to it learned men, the members of the Diet, and all the nobles who desired to have the means of judging for themselves of the foundations on which the doctrines rested which were professed either by the adherents of the pope or by those of the Reformation. Olaf declared himself ready. The bishops, on the contrary, shuffled, either because they considered it beneath their dignity to hold a discussion with Olaf, or, as has been said, ‘because they were afraid of exposing themselves in a conflict with a learned and eloquent man.’^[429] At last they chose, as defender of their dogmas, a distinguished divine, Peter Galle, the man who had previously replied to the king at Upsala.^[430]

The meeting was held in the chapter-house, and the king and the most influential men of his suite were present. Secretaries took their seats at a table for the purpose of taking down the discussion in writing. The champions of Rome and of the Gospel came forward, and the colloquy began. The first question contained within itself all the others. It was, whether the traditions established by the Fathers and the ancient doctors of the Church must be abolished. Galle admitted that the Christian religion was certainly contained, as Olaf asserted, in the Holy Scriptures. ‘But,’ he said, ‘these Scriptures are 275difficult to understand, and we must therefore receive the explanation given of them by the ancient Fathers.’ ‘Let us admit the interpretation of the Fathers,’ replied Olaf, ‘when it does not disagree with the written Word; but when the teachings of the Fathers are at variance with those of Scripture, let us reject them.^[431] If we do not reject them, we should make no difference between the word of God and the decrees of men.’

The discussion turned afterwards upon the great doctrine of the Reformation, Is a man saved by his own merits or by the grace of God alone?^[432] Olaf maintained that eternal life is ‘the gift of God’ (Rom. vi. 23), and that Christians are saved by grace (Ephes. ii. 8). Man obtains a reward solely by the grace of God and because Christ has merited it for him. This fundamental doctrine was met with among all nations at the epoch of the Reformation. Galle expected to triumph by maintaining the ecclesiastical princedom of the bishop of Rome, which had existed, he added, for twelve hundred years. ‘The office of a bishop,’ answered Olaf, ‘is not a lordship but a labor. The papacy has not existed for so long a time as you assign to it. Moreover, we have to consider, not the antiquity of an office but its goodness. Satan the tempter of man is very ancient, but it does not follow from this that he is good.’ The discussion continued on other matters in controversy, such as conversion, the Lord’s Supper, and particularly miraculous apparitions which Galle asserted still took place. He instanced those seen by St. Martin, St. Anthony, and Cyrillus, bishop of Jerusalem. ‘Every day new ones are witnessed,’^[433] he added, ‘and so far from despising them, we ought to feel great reverence 276for them.’ ‘The Church of God,’ replied Olaf, ‘built up on the doctrine of prophets and apostles, has no need of apparitions. The Word of God is sufficient to impart the knowledge of salvation. But man who is a liar delights himself in these fallacious novelties because he has no relish for the Word of God.^[434] Holy Scripture forbids us to seek after the truth at the hands of the dead.’ In support of his proposition he quoted Deut. xix. 9; Lev. xx. 6; Isa. viii. 19; and Luke xvi. 27.

The two combatants had displayed at first great moderation; but they gradually got excited and, forgetting the respect due to an assembly so august as that which was listening to them, they began to use, according to the practice of the age, rather strong expressions. The king declared the discussion to be ended, pronounced victory to remain with the evangelical doctor, and gave command that the proceedings of the disputation should be drawn up and published, in order that religious men might be able to judge on which side the truth lay.^[435]

This colloquy of 1526, notwithstanding its great importance, was far from re-establishing unity. The partisans of the Roman Church regretted that they had allowed themselves to be drawn into it. Bishop Brask accused the archbishop of weakness, and severely blamed him for having authorized the disputation. ‘The Catholic faith,’ he wrote to him, ‘is beyond objection altogether, nor is it permissible to subject it to examination. You will never be able to justify yourself before the pope.’ This fierce champion of the papacy was constantly repeating to those about him that ‘it was to the bishops and the doctors of the Church that Christ entrusted the interpretation of Holy Scripture;^[436] and that Olaf must be taken to Rome, not for the purpose of convincing him and 277those like him, but to have them put to death by fire or by sword.’^[437]

These sayings provoked the friends of the Reformation. What! the laity must receive blindly the teaching of the priests! Did not St. Paul write to all the Christians of Thessalonica—Prove all things; and to those of Corinth—I speak as to wise men, judge ye what I say? But the reformed did not always proceed in a prudent manner. As pastors were sought for in all quarters, many young men left Upsala before they had gained the knowledge and the discretion which were needed. They preached justification by grace; but some of them did not sufficiently insist on the point that faith which does not produce works is dead; and when they spoke of the priests and the pope they made use of unguarded expressions. Gustavus frequently rebuked them, and Olaf published a work for their guidance. Occasionally without being expected he went to the churches, and after sermon affectionately pointed out to these young ministers the faults which had struck him,^[438] and counselled them to avoid provoking their opponents causelessly.

But nothing could soothe the ruffled temper of the enemies of Reform. The archbishop, who had once more become a real Roman Catholic (un vrai Romain), was continually stirring up his subordinates against the king. Brask did the same, and other prelates went greater lengths. The bishop and the provost of Westeraas, Sunnanwaeder, and Knut, instigated the peasants of Dalecarlia to revolt; and the latter, with threats, demanded of the king the banishment of the Lutheran faith from the kingdom. Gustavus reminded them of the calamities which the Roman clergy had brought on Sweden, adding that it was the duty of a king to shake off a yoke so burdensome. But the Dalecarlians, who were easily excited, 278were rude mountaineers who feared neither heat nor cold, were skilled in handling arms, and were equally content with sword and plough, peace and war, life and death.^[439] In 1526 they refused to pay the taxes, and in a short time they did more.

At the beginning of 1527, there appeared in the remotest parishes of their country a young man calling himself Nils Sture, who stated that he was the eldest son of the deceased administrator, and that he had left Stockholm in order to escape from a heretical prince, who could not endure at his court the presence of the legitimate heir of the kingdom. ‘As soon as Gustavus perceived me,’ he added, ‘he cast a fierce glance at me, drew his sword, and attempted to take away my life. Is this the recompense due to the merits of my father, who lost his life to save Sweden?’ Saying these words he burst into tears, fell on his knees, and begged the good peasants who stood round him to say with him a paternoster to deliver the soul of the prince his father out of purgatory. The young man was handsome in person, and could speak well, so that the Dalecarlians as they listened to him mingled their tears with his. To his pathetic appeals he added terrible accusations. ‘Gustavus,’ said he, ‘has not only laid aside the national dress, but he intends also to compel the Swedes to dress in the new fashion.’ This the Dalecarlians would have esteemed a disgrace. The pretended Nils Sture had soon a large following, for the Romish system was greatly reverenced, and the name of Sture was held in high honor among the Dalecarlians. The archbishop of Drontheim declared in his favor, and the partisans of Rome hailed the young man as a Maccabæus who was going to raise up again the altars of the true God. The pretender surrounded himself with a body guard, formed a 279court, elected a chancellor, and coined money. This person, the hope of the sinking papacy, was in reality a farm servant from Bjoerksta in Westmanland, an illegitimate son of a female servant. He had served in several families of the gentry, and had thus acquired a certain skilfulness. He was trained for the part he had to play by Peder Grym, a man who was formerly in the service of Sten Sture, and who had become the confidential attendant of Bishop Sunnanwaeder.^[440] In spite of his cleverness he was soon detected. The Dalecarlians received one day a letter from the princess, the widow of the administrator, in which she put them on their guard against this impostor, and informed them that she had lost her eldest son. The unlucky fellow made his escape into Norway, and was there received as a prince by the archbishop of Drontheim.

Anxious to dispel the calumnies circulated against him by the bishops, of which other impostors might make use, the king published a declaration, in which he laid down the end which he had set before himself. ‘We mean to have,’ he said, ‘the true religion, agreeable to the Word of God. Now there is no other but that which Christ and the apostles taught. On this point all are agreed. Controversy is maintained only about certain practices invented by men, and particularly respecting the immunity of prelates. We demand the abolition of useless rites, and we strive, as all Christians ought to do, to lay hold on eternal life. But the prelates who observe this, and who care only for their own bellies, accuse us of introducing a new religion. We earnestly exhort you to give no credit to this calumny.’^[441]

Gustavus, aware that the archbishop was one of those who were circulating the reports in question, summoned him to Stockholm. Magnus went, in serious apprehension of what might happen. As soon, indeed, as he perceived 280the stern look of Gustavus, he was confused, his countenance changed, and he remained silent. The king told him some plain truths, and reminded him of proceedings which filled him with shame. ‘Your calling,’ continued the prince, ‘is to teach the Gospel, and not to talk big and play the grandee.’ The archbishop promised to do what the king wished. It appears that Gustavus ordered him to be confined for some days in a convent at Stockholm, in order to ascertain whether, as some asserted, Magnus had joined in the conspiracy of Sunnanwaeder and Knut. But he soon set him at liberty; and the king, intending to marry a Polish princess, entrusted him with a mission to Poland. The archbishop set out; but instead of going to Poland, he betook himself to Rome, and never returned to Sweden.

Gustavus believed that the time was now come to complete his work. He wished to deliver the kingdom out of the state of strife in which it was plunged. Many members of the Diet and officers of the army urged him to get himself crowned, but he did not care for a name and a crown without the reality which they symbolize. The substance of kingly power was really in the hands of the clergy. The bishops had made themselves masters of the principal fortresses, had usurped a part of the rights of the monarch, and were in possession of wealth surpassing that of the State. Gustavus now opened his mind to his clever, eloquent, and bold chancellor, Lawrence Anderson. The latter had discerned the numerous evils brought upon the Church and the State by the temporal power and possessions of the clergy. He reminded the prince of the statement that in the primitive Church the faithful distributed their property to one another according as each had need, and that the apostles declared by the mouths of St. Peter and St. John that they had neither silver nor gold. Anderson, holding the same faith as Luther, frequently conversed with Gustavus about the principles advanced in Germany by that admirable 281doctor, and urged that this wholesome doctrine should be substituted for the horrible maxims of the priests.

Gustavus understood him, and formed the purpose of withdrawing resolutely from the foreign domination of Rome, which had cost Scandinavia so much generous blood. He loved the evangelical doctrine; but we are obliged to confess that policy had a good deal to do with his resolution. The priest had invaded the rights of the crown, and he undertook to reconquer them. This conquest was juster and more legitimate than that of the Alexanders and the Cæsars. For the accomplishment of the great work of religious renovation he relied upon Olaf and Lawrence Petri and Anderson. The Romish party immediately began to spread abroad the most abusive reports respecting these three persons. The chancellor, they said, intends to destroy the churches and the convents, and to introduce a new faith; and the two Petri to whom he entrusts the work are heretics and scoundrels.^[442]

The king, seeing what a commotion the priests were exciting in the kingdom, determined to call together the assemblies. He convoked the States of the kingdom at Westeraas, for St. John’s Day, June 24, 1527. The clergy on hearing of this measure were filled with fear, and Brask, at an interview which he had with his friend Thure Joensson, marshal of the kingdom, exclaimed, ‘How glad I am that I have but a little while to live!’ The ecclesiastical members of the Diet at first hesitated to go to Westeraas; but many of them, and among others Brask, determined to go in the hope that by their presence they might to some extent prevent the great evils which they foresaw. The king himself arrived, accompanied by a numerous and imposing court. It was a long time since there had been any Diet of so important a character. Besides the ecclesiastics, there were one 282hundred and twenty-nine nobles; every town sent its burgomaster and a councillor, and every district sent six peasants.

Gustavus had resolved in his own mind that this Diet should emancipate Sweden from the yoke of the priests, which had weighed on the people for centuries, and restore the laity to their own place. For effecting so salutary a revolution a resolute heart and a strong will were needed. Now, he possessed both. It was his intention to open the Diet with a grand banquet on the 23d of June, and to this the members of the States had been invited. They all vied with each other in praising the courtesy of the king, who at the outset thus received them at his table. Gustavus entered the banquet-hall, and went toward the place where his cover was laid. Then the bishops came forward according to custom; for they used to take the highest places after the king, and in his absence they even took precedence of his representative. But now Gustavus, turning to his ministers of state, his councillors, and the grandees of the kingdom, invited them to sit near him, and next to them the bishops, afterwards the nobles, then the canons and other ecclesiastics who usually preceded the nobility, and last the burgesses and the peasants. This precedence assigned to the laity caused a lively sensation in the whole assembly. The bishops thus held back, overpowered with surprise, turned pale, and revealed in the expression of their countenances the bitterness of their souls.^[443] Nevertheless, they were speechless; and through fear of Gustavus they drank this cup. Many of them would fain have withdrawn, but the imposing presence of the king detained them, and they silently took their seats in those lower places which they looked upon as the greatest disgrace they had ever suffered. The king, observing the expression 283of their faces, addressed them. Hitherto their lips had remained closed, but by the king’s words they were opened; they showed that their usual place was on each side of him, and claimed to take it. Gustavus explained the reasons which had induced him to give the highest rank to his ministers. Up to this time the Church had lorded it over the State; now the State was freed. Henceforth Sweden rendered unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar’s and unto God the things which are God’s. Order had been deranged, but now every one was restored to his own place.

CHAPTER IX.
VICTORY.
(1527.)

The bishops and the rest of the ecclesiastics went out of the castle disquieted, fretful, indignant, and determined to resist the designs of the king with all their might. Consequently they arranged to meet secretly early in the morning of the following day, in the church of St. Egidius. They got there by stealth without being perceived, and concealed themselves in the remotest corner of the church, and there, beneath its vaults, began the conventicle of the priests. ‘What can be the motive,’ they asked each other, ‘of the scandalous affront to which the king subjected us in the presence of all the states of the kingdom?’ Bishop Brask, as suffragan of the primate, absent at the time, spoke: ‘The unworthy proceeding of which we have been the victims is assuredly the cover of detestable schemes. But the king cleverly dissembles his intentions. He is surrounded by men tainted with Lutheranism, and they flatter and mislead him. He means to take away from the clergy their privileges, 284their liberties, and their possessions, and to add strength to heresy. Under the specious title of defender of the country, he usurps absolute authority; and unless we oppose his projects, we shall find ourselves despoiled of our castles and fortresses, and of the share which we have in the government of the kingdom. How can I tell that we shall not be deprived likewise of our religion?‘^[444] The bishop of Strengnaes in vain represented to his colleagues that they ought not to provoke so great a prince, who had won by his own merit the love of all Sweden: in vain did he declare that for his own part he was quite ready to surrender his strong castle. Brask, inflamed with wrath, exclaimed, ‘Do you assume to dispose of the possessions of the Church as if they were your own patrimony? Will you deliver them up to a heretical prince? You talk like a courtier rather than like a bishop.’ Then cursing the king, he declared that resistance must be offered, and even by force, if the law should be powerless. ‘We must bethink ourselves,’ he said, ‘of the oath which we took at our consecration. Let us act with a vigor truly episcopal. It is better that we should lose court favor by our courage than gain it by our feebleness!’ Those present then exclaimed, ‘We swear to defend the privileges of the clergy, and to extirpate heresy.’ This oath was not sufficient. The energetic bishop of Linkoping demanded that an engagement should be made in writing; and he drew up a declaration, which they all signed. They swore to keep the secret; and lest the document should fall into the hands of the king, they concealed it under a tombstone in the church, and there it was found fifteen years later. This proceeding ended, the conspirators went clandestinely out of the church as they had gone in, and made preparation for the Reichstag.

But Brask had something else to do beforehand. He wished to come to an understanding with his friend Thure 285Joensson, marshal of the kingdom, the highest dignitary in the land after the king, and a devoted partisan of Rome. This person had little to boast of except his honors. Full of vanity, proud of his birth and of his rank, he was weak and without resources. The bishop of Linkoping related to him what had just occurred. The marshal, full of vainglory, felt highly flattered at finding himself head of a party opposed to the king, and agreed to all the proposals which Brask made to him for saving the Roman priesthood. The head of the clergy and the head of the nobility, finding themselves thus in agreement, thought it possible to carry the States with them and to destroy Reform. While the marshal, delighted with his own importance, assumed an air of haughtiness, the bishop put forth all his energy in endeavoring to gain over to his cause the nobles and the peasants.

The Diet met in the great hall of the Dominican monastery. Every one was in suspense as to what was about to take place; the Assembly appeared uneasy; a heavy weight pressed on all hearts; the air was dull and thick. The chancellor, Lawrence Anderson, addressed the meeting for the purpose of making a report on the state of the kingdom. ‘Our fortresses,’ said he, ‘are dismantled, our ports vacant, our arsenals destitute of stores. The government of Christian II. has been fatal to Sweden. The members of the Diet have been massacred, our towns have been pillaged, and the land is reduced to a state of the most frightful misery. For seven years the king, and he alone, has been endeavoring to restore to our country its prosperity and its glory. But instead of recognition and co-operation he finds nothing but discontent and ingratitude; the people have even broken out in open revolt. How is it possible to govern a people who, as soon as the king speaks of suppressing any abuses, arm themselves with axes? a nation in which the bishops are instigators of revolt, and openly say that they have received from their pope a sharp sword, and that they will know 286how to handle in battle other arms than their wax candles?^[445] People complain of the taxes; but are not these entirely applied to the service of the nation? They complain of the dearness of provisions; but has the king control over the weather and the seasons? They say that the prince is a heretic; but is not this what priests assert of all kings who do not blindly submit to their desire? If a government is to exist at all, the means of maintaining it must be provided. The revenue of the State is now 24,000 marks per annum, and its expenditure is 60,000 marks. The crown and the nobility possess hardly a third of the wealth of the clergy. You are aware that the wealth of the church has been taken from the royal treasury, and that almost all the nobles have been reduced to poverty by the greed of the ecclesiastics. You are aware that the townsmen are incessantly plagued by excessive demands on behalf of pretended religious foundations, which have nothing religious about them and tend only to ruin the State. Some remedy must be applied to the evils brought upon us by greedy men who take possession of the fruits of our toil that they may give themselves up to their own pleasures.^[446] The fortresses of the prelates, which form places of refuge for seditious men must be restored to the State; and the wealth with which ecclesiastics are glutted, instead of being devoted to their pleasures, must be applied to the promotion of the general weal.’

The reform of religion thus led to the reform of morals, and in the suppression of error was involved the suppression of abuses. If the work had at this time been accomplished throughout Europe, Christendom would have gained three centuries, and its transformation, instead of being wrought in an age of laxity and decay, would 287have been accomplished under the inspiring breath of faith and morality. The chancellor, conscious of the importance of the crisis, and perceiving the dangers to which Sweden would be exposed if the Diet should reject his claims, had spoken with some agitation of mind.^[447] He was silent; and the king then turned to the marshal of the kingdom, as if to ask his opinion. The feeble Thure Joensson was very reluctant to speak, and would much rather leave the energetic Brask to break the ice. He therefore turned to this prelate and made a sign to him to address the meeting. The latter did not take much pressing to speak. ‘We will defend the Catholic religion,’ he said, ‘to our last breath; we will maintain the rights, the privileges, and the possessions of the Church, and we will make no concessions without a peremptory decree of the pope of Rome, whose authority alone we recognize in matters of this kind.’

The king had not looked for such haughty words. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, addressing the members of the Diet, ‘what think you of this answer?’ The marshal of the kingdom, well pleased that he had to say nothing except that he thought as his friend did, replied that the answer was just; and a great number of bishops and of deputies did the same. Gustavus then, overpowered with feeling, said, ‘We expected a different answer; how can we wonder at a revolt of the people when the leading men of the kingdom set them the example? I did not shrink from hazarding my life at the time when the indolent priests were spending their useless lives in idleness. I know your ingratitude. You never knew how to do without kings, nor how to honor them when you had them. If rain fall, it is our fault; if the sun is hidden, we are the cause of it; if there be famine or pestilence, it is we who are blamed. You give more honor to priests and monks and all the creatures of the pope than to us. Every one sets himself up as our master and our judge. 288It would be a pleasure to you even to see the axe at our neck, even though no one should be bold enough to touch the handle.^[448] Is there a man in all the world who, under such conditions, would consent to be your king? The very devil in hell would not care to be so. You deceive yourselves if you fancy that I have ascended the throne as a mere stage, and that to play the part of king is enough for me. There is therefore an end of our connection. I lay down the sceptre, and my resolution is immovable. Choose you whom you will to govern you. I renounce the throne, and that is not all; I leave likewise my native land. Farewell, I shall never come back.’ At these words, Gustavus, deeply affected, burst into tears and hurried out of the hall.^[449]

The assembly, smitten with consternation, remained for some time silent and motionless. At last the chancellor spoke: ‘Right honorable lords, this moment must determine the existence or the destruction of Sweden. There are only two courses open to you; you must either obey the king or choose another.’ But the members were so much agitated by the speech of Gustavus, and many of them exulted so much at his departure, that without troubling themselves about the vote proposed to them, they all rose, left their places in great haste, and went out. Thure Joensson, who in the presence of the king had kept in the background and had put forward his friend Brask, lifted up his head now that he had no longer to face the glance of the king. The bishops, the canons, and many of the lords who regarded the retirement of the king as a victory, pressed round the marshal and reconducted him to his house in triumph. Drums were beaten and trumpets blown; and the head of the nobility, full of the vainglory which feeds on the thinnest vapor, enraptured with the pompous display which 289concealed from his own eyes his real deficiencies, exclaimed with a childish vanity, ‘I defy any one to make me a pagan, a Lutheran, or a heretic.’ This man and his friends already looked upon Gustavus as having come to the end of his career, and believed themselves to be masters of the country. Imagination could hardly find adequate expression for so great a triumph!

The king had returned to the castle attended by his court and accompanied by his best officers. The latter stationed themselves before the gates of the castle and prevented any one from entering. The king was as calm as in the most peaceful moments of his life; he was even merry and in good humor. He knew that time is a great teacher and gives lessons to the most passionate men. He delayed, he waited; he wished that minds which had been misled should come to themselves again. He admitted his trusty friend to his table, showed himself an agreeable companion, and did to perfection the honors of the table.^[450] Thus he spent three days, days of pleasantness for the prince and his adherents—a fact certainly strange in the midst of a crisis so grave. Those who were about him were delighted to find themselves living in familiar intimacy with the prince. The latter even devised certain pastimes,

One would have said that, without any strange or grave occurrence, the king was simply at leisure; that a period of recreation had succeeded a period of work. The Diet met again on the following day; but it was undecided and uneasy, and did not adopt any resolution. Peasants thronged the public places and were beginning to show signs of impatience. They said to one another as they formed groups in the streets, ‘The king has done us no harm. The gentlemen of the Diet must make it up with 290him, and if they do not we shall see to it.’ The merchants spoke to the same effect; and the townsmen of Stockholm, believing that the king was about to take his departure, declared that the gates of the capital would be always open to him. Brask and his party were gradually losing their influence. Magnus Sommer, bishop of Strengnaes, inquired ‘whether the kingdom must be exposed to destruction for the sake of saving the privileges of the clergy.’^[451] Many of the nobles and townsmen thanked him for the word. They said, ‘Let the Roman ecclesiastics set forth their doctrine and defend it against their adversaries.’ Brask stood out with all his might against this proposal; but to his great annoyance it was carried. The Diet resolved that in its presence should be held a discussion adapted to enlighten the laity and to enable them to pronounce judgment on the doctrines in dispute.

The next day Olaf and Peter Galle appeared in the lists; but they could not agree either as to their weapons or as to the manner of using them. ‘We shall speak Swedish,’ said Olaf, while Galle insisted on Latin, which would be the way to avoid being understood by the great majority of the assembly. Galle being obstinate, the contest began; the one making use of the learned language, the other of the vulgar tongue. At length the assembly, getting tired of this balderdash which it could not comprehend, demanded with loud outcries that Swedish only should be spoken. The Roman champion was obliged to yield, and the discussion continued till the evening. Evangelical principles were joyfully received by the greater part of the assembly. ‘A kingdom,’ said the chancellor to the most influential members of the Reichstag, ‘ought not to be governed by the maxims of priests and monks, whose interests are opposed to those of the State. Is it not a strange thing to hear the bishops proclaim a foreign prince, the pope, as the sovereign to whom we 291owe obedience?’ Many of the members of the Diet were convinced.

The weak and ridiculously vain Thure Joensson did not perceive this, but believed that the triumph of his own party was secured. He required that every Lutheran should be declared incapable of ascending the throne, and that all the heretics should be burnt. But the townsmen and the peasants, impatient of so many delays, very loudly declared that the nobles were bound, in fulfilment of their oath, to protect the king against his enemies, and that if they did not do this speedily they would go for him themselves, and would come back in company with him and give the lords a sharp lesson. The adversaries of Gustavus began to feel alarmed. A remarkable change was likewise taking place among the bishops and the influential priests. Did they feel the inward power of evangelical truth, or did policy alone dictate to them a return to duty? The probability is that some of them were impelled by the former and others by the latter of these motives. The wind was changed. Brask and his friend, Thure Joensson, had now to listen to very bitter reproaches; and on all sides the demand was insisted on that apologies should be offered to the king, and that evidence of the devotion of his people should be given to him.^[452]

For this mission were selected the Chancellor Anderson and Olaf, as the men who would be able most powerfully to influence Gustavus. None could be more anxious for a reconciliation, for they felt that if the king should sink under the intrigues and the blows of the prelates, the triumphant papacy would trample the Reformation in the dust. They presented themselves at the gates of the castle, were admitted into the presence of the prince, and entreated him, in the name of the States, to return into the midst of them, to resume the government of the kingdom, and to rely on their hearty obedience. Gustavus, 292who had listened to them with an air of marked indifference, replied with some scorn, ‘I am sick of being your king,’ and sent them away. He was determined to leave the kingdom unless he were satisfied that he should find in the States and in the people the support which was essential to his laboring for the good of all. Other deputations went on three occasions to present to him the same request. But they received the same answer; he appeared to be inexorable.

It was an imposing scene which now presented itself at Stockholm. A nation was calling to the throne a prince who had saved it, and the prince was refusing the dignity. Townsmen, peasants, and nobles alike were in great agitation, and they were at this moment terrified both at the thoughtlessness with which they had rejected him, and at the abyss which they had opened beneath their own feet. If Gustavus should depart, what would become of Sweden? The land being given over to the prelates, would these churchmen, who had learnt nothing, smother in the darkness of the Middle Ages the dawning lights of the Gospel and of civilization, and bow down the people under the iron sceptre of ultramontane power? Or would the ex-king, Christian II., perhaps reappear to shed, as formerly, rivers of blood in the streets of the capital? Men’s minds were at length impressed by the greatness and nobleness of the character of Gustavus; and they understood that if they should lose him they were lost. They would make a last attempt, and for the fourth time they sent an embassy to him. The deputies, when introduced to the king’s presence, found in him the same coldness. They were conscious that the royal dignity was wounded. They threw themselves at his feet and shed tears abundantly.

The king was no less affected, and a struggle took place in his breast. Should he withdraw from this people which he had taken so much pains to deliver from tyranny and anarchy? Should he abandon this glorious Reformation, 293which, if he were to leave Sweden, would undoubtedly be expelled with him? Should he bid farewell to this land which he loved, and go to make his abode under the roof of the foreigner? He might certainly have a smoother path elsewhere; but is not a prince bound to self-renunciation for the benefit of all? Gustavus yielded.

On the fourth day he went to the Diet. Joy burst forth at his approach, all eyes were bright, and the people in their rapture would fain have kissed his feet.^[453] He reappeared in the midst of the States, and the mere sight of him filled the assembly with reverence and an ardent longing for reconciliation. Gustavus was determined to be merciful, but at the same time just, resolute, and strong. There were standing in Sweden some old trees which no longer bore fruit, and whose deadly shade spread sickness, barrenness, and death through the land: the axe must be applied to their roots in order that the soil might once more be opened to sunshine and to life.

The chancellor spoke. ‘The king requires,’ he said, ‘that the three estates should pledge themselves to suppress any seditious movement; that the bishops should relinquish the government of the state and deliver up to him their fortresses; that they should furnish a statement of their revenues for the purpose of deciding what part of them is to be left to the ecclesiastics and what part is to be payable to the state, with a view to provide for the wants of the nation; and that the estates which, under King Charles Knutson (1454), were taken from the nobles and assigned to churches and convents, should be judicially restored to their lawful owners.’

The chancellor next came to the concerns of religion. ‘The king demands that the pure Word of God should be preached, and that every one should prize it, and that no one should say that the king wished to introduce a false religion.’ This did not satisfy some of the nobles, 294who, decided in their own faith, desired to stigmatize the Roman system. ‘Yes,’ they said, ‘we want the pure Word of God, and not pretended miracles, human inventions, and silly fables, such as have hitherto been dealt out to us.’ But the townsmen were of a different opinion, and thought that the king required too much. ‘The new faith must be examined,’ they said, ‘but for our part it goes beyond our understanding.’ ‘Certainly,’ added some of the peasants, ‘it is difficult to judge of these things; they are too deep for our minds to fathom.’ The chancellor, unchecked by these contradictory remarks, proceeded, ‘The king requires that the bishops should appoint competent pastors in the churches, and if they fail to do so, he will be authorized to do it himself. He insists that pastors should not abuse their office, nor excommunicate their parishioners for trivial causes; that those persons who do necessary work on festival days should not be liable to a penalty; that churchmen should not have power to claim for baptisms, marriages, or burials any larger payments than are fixed by the regulations; that in all schools the Gospel, with other lessons taken from the Bible, should be read; and that in all secular matters the priests should be amenable to the secular courts.’^[454]

All these points were agreed to. The majority of the Diet felt the necessity of these reforms, and moreover were afraid of losing Gustavus a second time. The king then turning to the prelates, said, ‘Bishop of Strengnaes, I demand of you the castle of Tijnnelsoe.’ The bishop declared himself ready to please him. Others did the same; but when turning to Brask, Gustavus said, ‘Bishop of Linkoping, I demand of you the castle of Munkeboda,’ the only answer was silence broken by deep-drawn breaths. Thure Joensson begged Gustavus to allow his old friend to retain the castle, at least for his life. The king replied laconically, ‘No.’ Eight members of the 295Diet offered themselves as bail for the submission of the bishop, and forty of his body-guards were incorporated in the royal army.

A document comprising all the above articles (the Compact of Westeraas) was then drawn up, and was signed by the nobles and by the delegates of the towns and country districts. The bishops who were present signed on their part a declaration in which it was stated that ‘some of their predecessors having introduced foreign kings into Sweden,^[455] resolutions had been adopted for the prevention of such disorder in future, and that in testimony of their assent they affixed their seals thereto.’ It was well understood that this submission of the prelates was reluctantly made. One of them, however, exclaimed, ‘Well, whether his Grace will have us rich or poor, we are contented.’ From this time they ceased to be members of the States. Brask returned sorrowful to his bishopric. He saw his former guards take possession, in the name of the king, of the castle in which he had nevertheless received permission to reside. He made no resistance, as he was very anxious to be released from the bail which he had been obliged to give. Having obtained this, he left Sweden immediately under the pretext of an inspection to be made in the island of Gothland, and betook himself to Archbishop Magnus, who was now at Dantzic. The two prelates wrote to Gustavus requiring him to restore to them their privileges, but assuredly without any hope of his doing so. As soon as they received his refusal, Magnus set out for Rome, and Brask took refuge in a Polish convent, in which he died.

The monastic orders had been leniently treated; the compact expressing only that monks who held prebends should not beg, and that the begging monks should make their collections only at stated times. But the monks 296and the nuns did more than comply with these rules; large numbers of them deserted the cloisters and engaged in the occupations and duties of social life.

Gustavus was victor, and we must add that the victory was even too complete. The organization and direction of the new ecclesiastical order were entrusted to the king, as was indeed the case in all the countries in which the State was not opposed to the Reformation. We must, however, further remark that he mitigated the evil by acting only according to the advice of Anderson, Olaf, and other reformers. Having thus struck the heavy blow which disarmed the Romish hierarchy, the king left Westeraas, and henceforth openly professed the evangelical faith.^[456]

Thus fell Roman Catholicism in Sweden. The principal cause of its fall was the profession and preaching of the truth by Olaf and his brother and their friends. Having fought well they received the recompense of their labors. We will not, however, withhold our respect from the moral resolution with which Brask and others contended for what they believed to be the truth. Personal interests and the interest of caste had undoubtedly a good deal to do with it; but we must not forget that an order of things which had the sanction of so many ages was, according to their convictions, the true order. In the minds of men there exist opposing tendencies. In the view of one class the institutions of the past are legitimate and sacred, and they cling to them with all the passion and pertinacity of which their natures are capable; while in the view of another class the future, and the future alone, presents itself under a beneficent aspect. Into the future they project their ideal; they invest it with all the loveliness created by their own imagination, and they hurry enthusiastically towards that future. This is right. Nevertheless, prudent men endeavor to develop 297in the present time the true and wholesome principles of the past, and to form by the influence of the life which proceeds from the Gospel a new world, in which those precious germs shall spring up which are to be the wealth of the future.^[457]

After setting the affairs of the church in order, Gustavus did the same for the affairs of the State. He had quietly sent troops in the direction of Dalecarlia, and at the same time agents who were commissioned to bring back the rebels to obedience by gentle means. The grand marshal, Thure Joensson, and the bishop of Skara, not feeling secure, deserted the rebels and made their escape into Norway. The Dalecarlians, abandoned by their principal leaders, determined to treat with the king; but seeing the moderation of his agents they thought they might speak haughtily. They therefore demanded that Lutheranism in the kingdom should be punished with death and, what appeared to them to be of no less importance, that the king and his courtiers should resume the old Swedish dress. Gustavus might probably have prevailed upon them to retract these two demands, especially if he had shown them that he had but to say a word and they would be crushed. But while he was affectionate to those who were faithful to him, he firmly maintained his rights and was determined to punish any one who attacked them. He did not hold an offender guiltless. ‘The man that touches me I strike,’ he said. His character had in it the severity of law, which reigns even over the judge. He marched at the head of his army, surrounded the rebels, and seized and beheaded their leaders. The pretended Sture, being compelled to leave Norway, took refuge at Rostock. The magistrates of this town, in consequence of a demand made by the king for the surrender of the impostor, had him executed. These severe measures put an end to the rebellion.

298Olaf, Anderson, and the other friends of Gustavus entreated him to put a finishing touch to the restoration of order by having himself crowned. Seeing that the priests were now completely dethroned, Gustavus took their request into consideration; and when the States renewed their entreaties, he gave orders for his coronation. On the 12th of January, 1528, in the presence of the whole Diet, and of a great assembly in the cathedral of Upsala, the prince was crowned with much pomp and solemnity by the new bishops of Strengnaes, Skara, and Abo. The discourse was delivered by the bishop of Strengnaes; and Olaf proclaimed Gustavus I. king of Sweden.^[458]

CHAPTER X.
‘CESAROPAPIE.’
(1528-1546.)

In pursuance of the resolutions of Westeraas, the Reformation had been introduced in every part of the kingdom. But there was a large number of Swedes who still closed their eyes to the light which had arisen upon their native land. Many of the priests who retained their posts retained with them the Romish dogmas; and, taking their stand between their parishioners and the Gospel, persuaded them that any change in the services of the church was an apostasy from Christianity. The kingdom thus presented the spectacle of a grotesque medley of evangelical doctrines and Romish rites. Exorcism was practised in connection with baptism, and when the dead were buried, prayers were made for their deliverance out of purgatory. The king, therefore, determined to convoke a synod, which should be authorized to complete the work of reformation, to abolish the superstitious services 299of Rome, to set aside the Pope, and to establish the Holy Scriptures as the sole authority in matters of religion.^[459]

The assembly met at the beginning of January, 1529, at Orebro, the birthplace of Olaf and his brother, near the street in which their father used to work at the forge. The bishops of Strengnaes, Westeraas, and Skara, and ecclesiastics from every diocese of Sweden came to the meeting. The archdeacon and chancellor, Lawrence Anderson, was the king’s delegate, and presided on the occasion. Olaf sat beside him as his counsellor. Gustavus had consulted his two representatives as to the manner in which the assembly ought to be conducted. Olaf’s keen intellect, his presence of mind, and the ease with which he could fathom deep subjects and give a luminous exposition of them, qualified him well for such an office. But the very liveliness with which he had grasped the truth, the importance which he attached to a sincere reform, and his frequent intercourse with Luther, did not render him tolerant towards error. He could not endure contradiction. The king had good reason to fear that Olaf did not altogether share his views. In fact, Gustavus looked upon matters of religion from a political point of view. He was afraid of every thing which might possibly occasion disputes and schism; and if he was severe towards the guilty, he was merciful to the simple and the weak, and he did not wish to have these estranged or possibly driven to revolt by an abrupt alteration of the old ecclesiastical rites. He had therefore come to an understanding with his two delegates; and Olaf, remembering the Scripture saying, We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak,^[460] had entered, partly at least, into the views of the prince. The chancellor, who was a politician as well as a religious man, had done so much more fully.

300These two reformers were, however, determined to do a really evangelical work, and they resolved, therefore, to lay a solid foundation. At the moment of their rejection of the Chair of St. Peter, from which strange dogmas were promulgated by a man, they set up another, the throne of God, from which a heavenly word proceeded. Luther had said that we must look upon the Scriptures as God Himself speaking.^[461] While recognizing the secondary author who imprints on each book the characteristics of his own individuality, Olaf also recognized above all the primary author, the Holy Spirit, who stamps on the whole of the Scriptures the impress of His own infallibility. The main point in his view was that the divine element, the constitutive principle of the Bible, should be acknowledged by all Christians, so that they might be truly taught of God. He attained his object. All the members of the assembly made the following solemn declaration: ‘We acknowledge that it is our duty to preach the pure Word of God, and to strive with all our powers that the will of God revealed in His Word may be made plain to our hearers.^[462] We promise to see to it that in future this object is attained by means of preaching established in the churches both in towns and in country places.’ It was resolved that Holy Scripture should be daily read and explained in the churches, at which not only the students, but also the young country pastors should be present. Readings of a similar kind were to be given in the schools. Every student was to be provided with a Bible, or at least with a New Testament. Well-informed ministers were to be settled in the towns, and the pastors of the rural districts should be bound to attend their discourses, to the end that they might increase in the understanding of the Divine Word. The pastors of the 301towns were also required to go into the villages, and there faithfully preach the Word of God. It was stipulated that, if the more learned ministers should find any thing to censure in the sermons of those less enlightened, to avoid scandals they should not point out the faults in their public discourses, but should modestly and privately represent them to their colleagues.^[463] The assembly agreed in acknowledging that the numerous saints’ days were a cause of disorder and prevented necessary labor. The festivals were therefore reduced to a smaller number. It was added, ‘that simple folk must be distinctly taught that even the keeping of Christ’s passion and resurrection has no other object but to impress on the memory the work of Christ who died for us and rose again.’^[464]

It has been said that ‘the doctors who composed this council acknowledged as their rule of faith the Confession of Augsburg.’^[465] This is not correct; for that Confession did not appear till ten months later (June, 1530). We may imagine that Olaf of his own accord would have presented a similar confession, or one even more decided. This was not done, either because the doctrines established by Olaf at Upsala, in 1526, were looked upon as accepted, or because Gustavus was afraid that such a confession would give rise to dissension, which he so much dreaded. Little was gained by this course; for the struggles which they hoped to avoid began afterwards and disturbed Sweden for five-and-twenty years.

At length they came to the subject of ecclesiastical rites. Anderson and Olaf would have preferred to suppress those to which superstitious notions were attached. But most of the members of the synod thought that to abolish them would be to suppress the religion of their 302forefathers. Anderson and Olaf got over the difficulty. They determined to maintain such of the ceremonies as had not a meaning contrary to the Word of God, at the same time giving an explanation of them. ‘We consent to your keeping holy water (eau lustrale),’ they said, ‘but it must be plainly understood that it does not wash away our sins, which the blood of Christ alone does,^[466] and that it simply reminds of baptism. You wish to keep the images, and we will not oppose this; but you must state distinctly that they are not there to be worshipped, but to remind of Christ or of the holy men who have obeyed Him, and of the necessity of imitating their piety and their life. The outward unction of the chrism denotes that the inward unction of the Holy Ghost is necessary for the faithful. Fasting is kept up that the faithful soul may renounce that which gratifies the flesh, and render to God a living worship in the spirit. Festivals likewise are not a kind of special service. They only instruct us that we ought to set apart the time necessary for hearing and reading the Word of God, and for enabling workmen wearied with their toil to taste some repose.’

These concessions were made from a good motive; but were they prudent? The Romish mind, especially when uncultivated, easily lets go the spiritual signification and keeps only the superstitious notions which are attached to the sign. It would have been better to abolish every thing that was of Romish invention and without foundation in Scripture. This was seen at a later period.

On Quinquagesima Sunday, February 7, 1529, the ecclesiastics present signed this ‘Form of Reformation.’ The articles received the royal sanction, and henceforth the Reformation was virtually established in the kingdom; but it was not universal. In some districts opposition was strong. Two evangelical ministers having been sent to preach and teach in the cathedral church of Skara, no sooner had one of them entered the pulpit than the people 303rose up and drove them away. The second having established himself in the school, while preparing to expound the Gospel according to St. Matthew, was assailed with stones and obliged to abandon the place. These weapons, although not very spiritual, produced some effect. Similar occurrences were taking place in the provinces of Smäland and West Gothland. Even in those places where evangelical ministers were received or reforms effected, murmuring and grief were frequently found amongst the women. Mothers were in a state of sharp distress about the salvation of their children. As the ministers had not exorcised them, the mothers believed that they had not been properly baptized and really regenerated; and they wept as they gazed upon the little creatures in their cradles. Other women could not be comforted because prayer for the dead had been abolished. If they lost any beloved one they suffered cruel anxiety and sighed to think of him day and night as still in the fires of purgatory. So easy it is to plant in the human heart a superstition which is not easily to be eradicated.^[467]

But if there was discontent on one side, there was just as much on the other. Olaf, in spite of his peremptory disposition, had made large concessions, either in pursuance of the king’s orders, or because, knowing the character of his people, he considered (as every one, moreover, asserted) that if the Reformation suddenly appeared in its purity and brightness it would terrify the timid, while if its progress were comparatively slow, men would become accustomed to it and scandals would be avoided. On returning to Stockholm, he found that serious discontent prevailed, not at the court, but in the town. The most decided of the evangelicals, especially the Germans, gave him a very unfriendly reception. They reminded him angrily of his concessions. ‘You have been unfaithful to the Gospel. You have behaved like a coward.’ 304‘Take care,’ replied Olaf, ‘lest by your sayings you stir up the people to revolt. Here in our country we must deal gently with people and our advance must be slow.’^[468] He did not, however, remain inactive, but strove to dispel the darkness which he had felt bound to tolerate. He composed for the use of ministers a manual of worship,^[469] from which he excluded such of the Romish rites as appeared to him useless or injurious. He published afterwards other works, particularly on the Lord’s Supper and on justification by faith. ‘It is altogether the grace of God which justifies us,’ he said. ‘The Son of God, manifested in the flesh, has taken away from us, who were undone by sin, infinite wrath which hung over us, and has procured by His merits infinite grace for all those who believe. The elect in Christ are children of God by reason of the redemption of Him who was willing to become our brother.‘^[470]

But the king himself intervened in the dispute. He wrote to his servants not to display overmuch zeal. ‘Little improvement is to be hoped for,’ he said, ‘so long as the people are no better informed.’ Acting in harmony with his convictions, he undertook the restoration of the schools, which were in a very bad condition. To Olaf he gave the superintendence of those at Stockholm, and as the rector was dead he entrusted the seals to him. He urged him to attend above all to the training of good masters. Olaf applied himself to this work with heart and soul, and drew up a plan of studies which was approved by the king. He taught personally, and succeeded in engaging the interest of his young hearers in so pleasant a manner that they heartily loved him. He presented the most conscientious and diligent pupils to the king, who provided for the continuation of their studies. He 305did not allow them to leave the gymnasium for the university until they were well grounded in all branches of knowledge, and especially in the knowledge of religion.^[471]

The principles of the Reformation were thus gaining ground, and the transformation of the Church became more visible. There were conversions, some gradual, and others more sudden. The prior, Nicholas Anderson, having become acquainted with evangelical truth, at once left the monastery of Westeraas,^[472] and became dean of the church of the same place. The monks of Arboga also went out of their convent and became pastors in the country. They changed not only their dress, but their morals and way of living.^[473] Some shadows gray and dark were undoubtedly still to be seen; but we must acknowledge the life where it really exists. The inhabitants turned the convent into a Gospel church. In many places were seen ex-priests or monks devoting themselves joyfully to the ministry of the Word of God, ‘purified,’ they said, ‘from papistical pollutions,’ a sordibus papisticis repurgatum. The reading of the New Testament, biblical expositions, and the prayers of the reformer, overcame obstacles which had appeared to be insurmountable. The Finlanders themselves, perceiving that ‘the truth was so vigorously springing up,’ opened their hearts to it.

Lawrence Petersen, Olaf’s brother, professor of theology at Upsala, was a man of grave and gentle character. Conscience ruled in both the brothers. To Olaf she gave courage to prefer her behests to the opinion of those whom he most highly esteemed; while Lawrence obeyed her secret voice, especially in the discharge of his daily duties. He fulfilled his functions with great punctuality. The charity which breathed in all his actions and all his 306words won the hearts of men. He made his students acquainted with the Bible; he taught them to preach in conformity with Scripture, and not after the traditions of men. But notwithstanding the rare nobleness and candor of his character, the enemies of the Gospel hated him. Gustavus who, in 1527, had given him a proof of his satisfaction by naming him perpetual rector of the university, was now about to confer on him a still higher dignity.

Archbishop Magnus had vacated his archiepiscopal see; it was therefore necessary to fill it up. The king consequently called together at Stockholm, on St. John’s Day, 1531, a large number of ecclesiastics. The chancellor Anderson requested the assembly to take into its consideration the choice of a new archbishop, imposing at the same time the condition that he should be a man thoroughly established in evangelical doctrine. The assembly pointed out three candidates—Sommer, bishop of Strengnaes; Doctor Johan, dean of Upsala; and Lawrence Petersen. It then proceeded with the definitive election, and on the suggestion, as it seems, of Gustavus, Lawrence obtained one hundred and fifty votes, and was therefore elected. The king testified his complete satisfaction with the result. The question might be asked, how was it that their choice did not fall on Olaf, who was the principal reformer? The assembly, doubtless, was unwilling to remove him from the capital. Lawrence’s long residence at Upsala qualified him for this high dignity; and perhaps the Scripture saying, ‘A bishop must be temperate,’ caused the preference to be given to his brother. The king handed to Lawrence a costly episcopal crosier, saying to him, ‘Be a faithful shepherd of your flock.’ The old proverb, ‘Wooden crosier, golden bishop; golden crosier, wooden bishop,’ was not to be applicable in this case.

The new archbishop was about to exercise, ere long, important functions. The king, desirous of founding a 307dynasty, had sought the hand of Catherine, daughter of the duke of Saxe-Lauenburg. Lawrence married the royal couple, and placed on the head of the wife the crown of Sweden. He did this with a dignity and a grace befitting the solemnity. At table the archbishop was called to take the place of honor which belonged to him. While at court, he was respectfully treated by the king; but the canons of Upsala, who were also present at the feast, and who, as passionate adherents of the pope, had been bitterly grieved to see an evangelical archbishop elected, were provoked at the honors which were paid him. They called their new head a heretic, treated him as an enemy, and seized every opportunity of showing their contempt for him. The son of an iron-master of Orebro to hold the highest place next to the king in Sweden! They ought to have remembered that many of the popes had been of still lower origin. The king was going to do a deed which would make their annoyance sharper still. In the household of Gustavus was a noble damsel, whose grandmother was a Vasa. When the marriage feast was over, the king and the queen rose, all the company did the same, and Gustavus then, in the presence of his whole court, betrothed the archbishop to his kinswoman. Never could a greater honor be conferred on the primate of Sweden.^[474]

The canons of Upsala, far from being pacified, were still more inflamed with anger and hatred. They saw that the power of the pope in Sweden was at an end; and fancying that if they ruined the archbishop they should ruin the Reformation, they assailed him with their blows. They accused him of horrible crimes; they stirred up the people against him; and they formed the most frightful conspiracies. Fears were entertained for his life; a fanatic’s dagger might any day make an end of him. The king therefore assigned him a guard of fifty men to protect 308him from assassins. He did more than this; he removed the canons who had never been any thing but idle clerks, and had displayed a temper so intractable; and he put in their place learned and laborious men who were devoted to the Gospel.^[475]

The evangelical archbishop was not the only man in Sweden whose life was threatened; the king was threatened also. The Hanse towns, with Lübeck at their head, desirous of regaining the influence which they had so long held in the North, allied themselves for this purpose with Denmark, and opened a correspondence with the Germans who were very numerous at Stockholm. The powerful Hanseatic fleet was thus to find in the very capital of its enemies trusty agents who pledged themselves to deliver up to it the town. But the scheme was detected; and Gustavus, who never hesitated when the business was to strike those who intended to strike himself, ordered the Germans and the Swedes who had taken part in the treacherous designs of the Hanseatics to be put to death. These events created great excitement throughout Sweden, especially at Stockholm. It was given out that the Germans had intended to bring gunpowder into the church and place it under the king’s seat, and then explode it during divine service. It was a Gunpowder Plot; but in this case the king was to be attacked, not while discharging his political functions, but at the moment when he was offering to God the worship in spirit and in truth which the Gospel requires. This story, however, might be nothing more than one of those reports which circulate among the public, without any other foundation than the general blind excitement which gives birth to the wildest rumors. These events occurred in the year 1536.^[476]

Gustavus, having escaped the dangers with which his 309enemies threatened him, went forward in his work with a firmer step. Endowed with a peremptory and energetic character, he even took some steps of too bold a kind, and seemed to aim at commanding the Church as he would an army. Olaf and the other reformers began to perceive that the king was assuming an authority in matters of religion which infringed on Christian freedom. After the Diet of Westeraas, he had not only taken their castles from the prelates, which was a quite legitimate measure, but he had further taken the Church with the castles, and had confiscated the ecclesiastical foundations for the benefit of the crown; while the reformers had hoped to see their revenues applied to the establishment of schools and other useful institutions. Evangelical Christians were asking one another whether they had cast off the yoke of the pope in order to take up that of the king. It seemed to be the intention of Gustavus to defer indefinitely the complete reformation of Sweden. After the council of Orebro, Olaf had entered upon the prudential course which the king insisted on; but it appeared to him that he must now courageously advance in the paths of truth and freedom. In his judgment, the work of the Reformation would be undone if it were allowed to crystallize in the midst of branches, images, holy water, and tapers. The young preachers supported him, and earnestly called for the suppression of those rites, the plainest effect of which was to keep up superstition among the people. Some of them even uttered complaints from the pulpit that the royal authority obliged them to do or to tolerate acts contrary to their consciences.

This gave rise to extreme coolness between Olaf and the king; and ere long the confidential and affectionate intercourse which had united them was succeeded by a certain uneasiness, and even actual hostility. Gustavus having been informed of the discourses delivered by young ministers who had only just left the schools, was offended. 310He saw in the fact a spirit of rebellion, and he sharply rebuked Olaf, who, to his knowledge, sympathized with these desires for a complete reformation. He said to Olaf—‘The young ministers scandalize simple folk by the impudence which leads them to aim at the abolition of the ancient usages of the Church; and I think further that they have cherished the purpose of giving a lesson to me and my government.’^[477] The prince, far from taking a lesson from another, gave one, and that sharply, to the first preacher of the capital.

These two men were both of a noble nature. In each were greatness, devotedness, activity, and a strong love of good. But each had also a fault which laid them open to the risk of a rude collision with each other; and one shock of this kind might overthrow the weaker. Gustavus would dictate as law whatever seemed to him good and wise, and he did not intend to allow any resistance. He placed great confidence in any man who showed himself worthy of it; and of this he had given striking proofs to the two brothers Petri. He did not easily withdraw his favor; but once withdrawn, it was impossible to regain it.

Olaf, on his side, endowed with a spirit of integrity and with a sincere and living faith, had a vivacity of temperament which prevented him from pondering the path of his feet. He could not endure contradiction, he could hardly forget an offence, and he was too prone to attribute malevolent motives to his adversaries. He not only believed that the king intended to destroy the liberty of the Church (which was the fact), but also that his obstinate maintenance of Romish customs among the people would throw them back again into the Romish apostasy. He began loudly to complain of Gustavus. He said to all about him that the king was completely changed, and certainly for the worse. He did not refrain from speaking 311in this manner even in the presence of flatterers of Gustavus. The enemies of the reformer hastened to take advantage of this. They reported to the king what they had heard Olaf say, adding to it exaggerations of their own invention.^[478] Their one object was to stir up hatred, and that implacable, between the king and the reformer. They did not gain their end at the first stroke; but a change was gradually wrought in the relations between these two men, both so necessary to Sweden. The king manifested to Olaf his unconcern by his manner and his words. He saw him much less frequently; and when he did send for him, there was a reserve in his reception which struck the reformer. Frequently when Olaf requested to see the king, the latter refused to admit him; or if he did receive him, business was despatched as speedily as possible, as if his only care was to get rid of him. This coolness, while it greatly grieved the sincere friends of the Gospel, rejoiced its adversaries; and on both sides the people were wondering, some with a sense of alarm, others with secret but deep joy, whether Gustavus in thus gradually estranging himself from the reformer was not at the same time making friends with the pope, and whether a few steps more would not precipitate him into the abyss.

Olaf himself, who while complaining of Gustavus had nevertheless up to this time entertained no doubt of his good intentions, now took offence, and resolved to avail himself of his rights as a minister of the Word of God. Ought he to conceal the truth because it was to a prince that it must be spoken? Did not Elijah rebuke Ahab, and John the Baptist Herod? The feeling which blinded him did not allow him to apprehend the important difference existing between a Gustavus and an Ahab. An obvious 312fault of the king had often struck him. The habit of swearing in a fit of anger was very common at the court and in the town, and Gustavus set the example. Olaf, pained to hear the name of God thus taken in vain, preached against the sin. He did not hesitate, at the close of his sermon, to designate the king as setting the example of swearing. He even had his discourse printed; and letting loose his displeasure, he complained loudly of the obstacles which the king placed in the way of a thorough reformation. The young pastors, encouraged by the example of their chief, went further than he did. They complained of the commands which the king had given them, and gave free vent to their indignation against a despotism which was, in their view, an attempt to violate the rights of the Word of God and of Christian freedom.

It was a serious matter, and Gustavus was much moved by it. He resolved to appeal to the archbishop. The primate, more temperate than his brother, confined himself to the duties of his calling. He was never seen either in places of amusement or at the court, which his predecessors used frequently to visit; but he was always at work in his diocese. In consequence of the death of the queen, he had gone at the king’s call to Stockholm, to marry him to his second wife, and had immediately returned to Upsala to devote himself to his work. Gustavus esteemed Lawrence; but he was, nevertheless, somewhat out of temper with him, because he knew that at bottom he shared his brother’s sentiments. To him, in his capacity of archbishop, the king addressed his mandate, in September, 1539. ‘We had expected of you and of your brother,’ said Gustavus, ‘more moderation and more assistance in matters of religion. True, I do not know how a sermon ought to be composed, but still I will tell you that preachers ought to confine themselves to setting forth the essence of religion without setting themselves up against ancient customs. You wrote me word that sermons were being preached at Upsala on 313brotherly love, on the life acceptable to God, on patience in affliction, and on other Christian virtues. Very good: see to it that similar sermons are preached throughout the kingdom. Christ and Paul taught obedience to the higher powers; but from the pulpits of Sweden are too often heard declamations against tyranny, and insulting language against the authorities. I am accused, abuses which are complained of are imputed to me, and these insults are published by the press. Holy Scripture teaches us that a minister ought to exhort his hearers to seek after sanctification. If people had any real grounds of complaint against my government, why not make them known to me privately instead of publishing them before the whole congregation?‘^[479]

This letter, addressed to the archbishop of Upsala, instead of soothing the Stockholm minister, irritated him and inflamed still more his ardent zeal. A circumstance which had little connection with the religious interests of Sweden, convinced him that the time was come to denounce the judgments of God. Olaf, in common with some of the most enlightened men of his time, among others Melanchthon, believed in astrological predictions. Seven or eight mock suns, reflecting in the clouds the image of the sun, appeared over Stockholm at this time. The sun was of course Gustavus, and the mock suns were so many pretenders who were on the point of appearing around the king, one or other of whom would take his place. ‘It is a token of God’s anger and of the chastisement which is at hand,’ exclaimed Olaf in his pulpit. ‘Punishment must come, for the powers that be have fallen into error.’ The unfortunate Olaf did more. Exasperated by the part which the king was taking in the government of the Church, he caused these mock suns to be painted on a canvas, and this he hung up in the church, in order that all might satisfy themselves that God condemned the government and that His judgments 314were near.^[480] This proceeding was even more ridiculous than blameworthy, but it was both. It took place, undoubtedly, after the king in his capacity of Summus Episcopus had addressed the letter to the archbishop; for although he spoke in it of the sermons on swearing, there is no reference to that on the mock suns, which was, moreover, by far the most serious affair.

The anger of Gustavus against Olaf was now at its height. His enemies gladly seized the weapon with which by his mistakes he furnished them against himself; and already they insulted him with their looks. A storm was gathering against the reformer; and Anderson, whose elevation and influence had made many jealous, was to fall with his friend. These two personages being manifestly in disgrace, the number of those who contributed to their ruin was daily increasing; and it seemed as though nothing short of the death of the objects of their hatred could satisfy them.

All this would have been without effect if Gustavus had continued to protect the liberty of the reformers. But he thought (this is at least our opinion) that he might take advantage of the animosity existing between the two parties for maintaining his own universal and absolute authority. Olaf was blinded by excess of zeal, and Anderson did not sufficiently subordinate the interests of religion to those of politics. A sharp lesson must be given to each of them. Olaf was accused of having delivered seditious sermons, and of having censured in a historical work the ancestors of the king. This was not enough.

Some still more serious charge must be made. For this they went back four years (1536), and it was given out that the project, formed by the German inhabitants of Stockholm, of favoring the attack by the Hanse Towns, had been confided to Olaf under the seal of confession—this institution was still in existence—and that he had 315not made it known. Even if this supposition had any foundation, was it not truer still that the hostility of the Germans was universally known, and especially by the vigilant Gustavus? But, in fact, there was little more in the case than rumors, no attempt whatever at execution of the plan having ever been made. To suppose that Olaf had intended to injure the king, his own benefactor and the saviour of Sweden, is a senseless hypothesis. Many other persons in Stockholm had learnt as much of the matter and more than he had. But the enemies of the Reformation wanted to get rid of the reformer; they must have some pretext, and this appeared to be sufficient. People asked, indeed, why Olaf had not been prosecuted for this offence four years before, and why since that time no inquiry had been set on foot about it. But all improbabilities were passed over. All the passions of men combined against Olaf. Men of lower degree felt the hatred of envy caused by the elevation of the son of the ironmaster of Orebro. The great felt the hatred of pride, a hatred which is seldom appeased. Worldly and bad men, such as were not wanting at the court, felt that irreconcilable hatred which is cherished against those who declare war on vice and worldliness. The king commanded that Olaf as well as Anderson should be brought to trial. The writer who recounts, in a not very authentic manner, the alleged offence of the reformers, was a zealous Roman Catholic, and besides this a very credulous man.^[481] The archives of Lübeck, the town which played the leading part in the attack of which it was alleged that Olaf was an accomplice, are very complete for the history of this period; but they do not contain the slightest trace of any proceeding of the kind.^[482] Men 316of peremptory character resemble each other; and, although Gustavus Vasa was infinitely superior to Henry VIII., the proceedings against Olaf and Anderson remind us of those instituted by the king of England against his wives, his most devoted ministers, and his best friends. The same court influences, and the same pliability on the part of the judges were found in both cases; and, by a stroke which recalled the Tudor sovereign, the king insisted that the archbishop should sit as a judge at the trial of his brother. Olaf and Anderson were condemned to death in the spring of 1540. This was paying rather dear for the folly of the mock suns. ‘Simplicity,’ it is said, ‘is better than jesting’; and a simple and credulous proceeding often disarms the man who has a right to complain of it. Olaf had been simple and credulous, but his foolishness did not disarm the king.

The sentence which filled the ultramontanes with joy threw consternation among the evangelical Christians, and especially among the parishioners of Olaf. The man who had so often consoled and exhorted them was to be smitten like a criminal. They could not bear to think of it. They remembered all the services which he had rendered them, and, what does not often happen in this world, they were grateful. They therefore bestirred themselves, interceded in behalf of their pastor, and offered to pay a ransom for his life. The king did not push matters to extremities, but granted a pardon. Perhaps his only intention had been to inspire fear in those who assumed to set limits to his power. The townsmen of Stockholm paid for their pastor fifty Hungarian florins. Anderson also saved his life, but by a payment out of his own purse. These pecuniary penalties contributed to keep people in mind that the king was not to be contradicted.

The exaction of these sums for the ransom from the scaffold of the two men who had done the most good to Sweden did no honor to Gustavus. But he appears to have thought that strong measures were necessary for the 317purpose of maintaining himself on the throne to which he had been elevated. It was part of his system to strike and to strike hard.

Olaf subsequently resumed his functions as preacher at the cathedral. Was not the permission to reappear in the pulpit an acknowledgment of his innocence? On this occasion he delivered an affecting discourse by which the whole congregation was moved. He understood the lesson which Gustavus had given him, and acknowledged that henceforth resistance to the king’s authority in the church was useless. This resistance might sometimes have been not very intelligent, but it was always sincere and well meant. He could not begin again either to preach the Gospel or to reform Sweden unless he submitted. This, therefore, he did. Before every thing the Gospel must advance. The king did not conceal his intention of governing the Church as well as the State. He said to his subjects, ‘Take care of your houses, your fields, your pastures, your wives and your children, but set no bounds to our authority either in the government or in religion.^[483] It belongs to us on the part of God, according to the principles of justice and all the laws of nature, as a Christian king to give you rules and commandments; so that if you do not wish to suffer our chastisement and our wrath, you must obey our royal commands in things spiritual as well as in things temporal.’ Olaf had learnt by experience that the wrath of a king is as the roaring of a lion. He had paid his debt to the liberty of the church. Henceforth he bowed his head; he gave himself wholly up to his ministry; to instruct, to console, to confirm, to guide, these tasks were his life, and in the discharge of his duty he won high esteem. As for Anderson, he never recovered from the blow which had fallen upon him. This fine genius was extinguished. He who had done so much towards giving a durable life to the church and to the 318State went slowly down to the grave, overwhelmed with sorrow. A strange drama, in which the actors, all in the main honest, all friends of justice, were carried away by diverse passions, the passion for power and the passion for liberty, and inflicted on each other terrible blows, instead of advancing together in peace towards the goal which both alike had in view.

Gustavus had won the victory. Olaf was not the only one who gave way. The blow which had fallen upon Olaf alarmed the other evangelical ministers so much that they abandoned the thought of taking any part in the control of the church, and left it all to the king. This pope was satisfied. The mock suns had disappeared one after another, and the sun left alone shone out in all his glory.

Gustavus, having thus broken down what threatened to be an obstacle in his way, took up his position as absolute monarch in the Church and in the State. In 1540 he obtained at Orebro a declaration that the throne should be hereditary; and taking in hand the ecclesiastical government he named a council of religion under the presidency of his superintendent-general, who was strictly speaking minister of worship. The king had engaged, as governor to his sons, George Normann, a Pomeranian gentleman, who had studied successfully at Wittenberg, and had come into Sweden with testimonials from Luther and Melanchthon. ‘He is a man of holy life,’ Luther had written to Gustavus Vasa, ‘modest, sincere, and learned, thoroughly competent to be tutor to a king’s son.^[484] I recommend him cordially to your majesty.’ Luther, however, aimed at more than the education of the prince royal. Having had an opportunity of conversing with an envoy of the king, Nicholas, a master of arts, he wrote to Gustavus—‘May Christ, who has begun his work by your royal majesty, deign greatly to extend it, 319so that throughout your kingdom,^[485] and especially in the cathedral churches, schools may be established for training young men for the evangelical ministry. Herein consists the highest duty of kings who, while engaged in political government, are friendly to Christian piety. In this respect your majesty has the reputation of surpassing all others, illustrious king! and we pray the Lord to govern by his spirit the heart of your majesty.’ Along with George Normann, Luther sent a young scholar, named Michael Agricola, whose learning, genius, and moral character he extols. In conclusion he says—‘I pray that Christ himself may bring forth much fruit by means of these two men; for it is he who through your majesty calls them and assigns them their duties. May the Father of mercies abundantly bless, by his Holy Spirit, all the designs and all the works of your royal majesty.’^[486] It seems as if Luther had some fear that Gustavus might monopolize too much the government of the Church. In his view it is Christ who governs it, who calls and appoints his laborers.

Gustavus appreciated the abilities and the character of Normann, and saw in him an honorable but yielding man, at whose hands he would not encounter the resistance which Olaf had offered. The bishops gave him some uneasiness, and as he did not venture to suppress them, he resolved to neutralize their influence by placing the protégé of the Wittenberg reformer above all the clergy, including the bishops and even the archbishop. While allowing the episcopal order to subsist for form’s sake, he at the same time introduced a semblance of the presbyterian order. In 1540 he appointed in all the provinces 320conservators, counsellors of religion, and seniors or elders who under the presidency of the superintendent were to administer ecclesiastical affairs and make regular visitations in the dioceses. No change might be made or even proposed in the Church without the express permission of the king. The opposition of Olaf and other ministers to certain remains of popery was not, however, without effect. Gustavus abolished them. But this semi-episcopal and semi-presbyterian constitution could never be got to work perfectly; and at a later time fortunate circumstances restored to the Swedish Church a more independent standing. Gustavus continued to have at heart the serious fulfilment of the functions of supreme bishop. He made laws for the frequenting of the religious assemblies, for the observance of the rules prescribing a decorous behavior in the church, for the suppression of immorality both among the laity and among the ecclesiastics, for the improvement of teaching and for the spread of civilization and culture among the people. Desirous of seeing the extension of the kingdom of God, he sent missionaries into Lapland. In Sweden likewise he set the inspired Word above every thing. ‘Thou doest well,’ he wrote to one of his sons, ‘to read the writings of the ancients and to see how the world was then governed; but do not give these the preference over the Word of God. In this is found true instruction and reasonable morals; and from it we learn the best mode of governing.’

This zeal for good did not prevent him from hitting hard when he thought he saw any thing amiss. He could be calm, gentle, and tolerant, but also earnest, terrible, and swift as a thunderbolt. If he perceived any opposition he struck energetically. ‘It is not right,’ he said one day, ‘that the bishop of Strengnaes should dwell in a stone house. It appears to me that a wooden house might suffice for a servant of him who made himself poor.’ The bishop boldly answered—‘It is doubtless in the same chapter of Holy Scripture that it is said that to the king 321tithe ought to be paid.’ The bishop’s reply having offended the king, he was not slow to show his displeasure. The marriage of the bishop was at this time being celebrated. It was his wedding-day, and there was a large company and a grand feast in the stone house. Gustavus unhesitatingly sent his sergeants in the very midst of the rejoicings, with orders to carry off the bishop from the marriage table, paying no regard to the general alarm, and he cast him into prison. His benefice was given to another. The contemporaries of Gustavus might reproach him, and with good reason, for his severity; and yet this seems moderation in comparison with the ways of Henry VIII., Mary Tudor, Francis I., Henry II., Charles IX., and with those of his predecessor Christian II. ‘I am called,’ he said, ‘a harsh monarch; but the days will come when I shall be regretted.’^[487] He had indeed other qualities which made people forget his severity. The beauty of his person predisposed men in his favor, and the eloquence of his speech carried away all with whom he had to do.

But there are other considerations which although they do not justify his rigorous measures, explain them.

The kingdom of Christ not being of this world ought not to be governed by kings and by their secretaries of state. This principle once admitted, there are three remarks to make: The development of Christian civilization was not sufficiently advanced in the sixteenth century for a recognition of the independence of the two powers. Catholicism was still so powerful in Sweden that nothing short of the authority of such a king as Gustavus could secure to the Gospel and to its disciples the liberty which they needed. Lastly, if Gustavus was wrong in assuming, as so many other princes did, the episcopal office in the Church, he did at least discharge its duties conscientiously.

In 1537 the king had received deputies from the elector 322of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, and the Protestant towns, who entreated him to unite with the evangelical churches of Germany.^[488] Gustavus had promised to do all that might be in his power for the good of their confederation. In 1546 he was formally asked to enter into the league of Smalcalde; but this he declined to do. The Confession of Augsburg was not accepted in his lifetime. It was only after many vicissitudes that Sweden was induced to place itself under this flag.

CHAPTER XI.
THE SONS OF GUSTAVUS VASA.
(1560-1593.)

The transformation effected by the Gospel in Sweden during the reign of Gustavus Vasa was incomplete. The whole lump was not leavened. Many of those who received the Reformation did not understand it; and a very large number of Swedes had no wish for it. This state of things, and the vexations which the king’s sons caused him, saddened his old age. At the beginning of the year 1560, the king, feeling ill, convoked the Diet. It met on the 16th of June, and he appeared and took his seat in it on the 25th, having beside him his sons Erick, John, and Magnus, and on his knee his youngest son Charles. He spoke, calling to mind the deliverance which had been granted to Sweden forty years before; and this he attributed to the help of God. ‘What was I that I should rise up against a powerful ruler, king of three realms, and the ally of the mighty emperor Charles the Fifth, and of the greatest princes of Germany? Assuredly it was God’s doing. And now, when the toils and pains of a troubled reign of forty years are bringing down 323my gray hairs to the grave, I can say, with King David, that God took me from the sheepcote and from following the sheep to be ruler over his people.’ Tears stifled his voice. After a pause he resumed—‘I had certainly no anticipation of so high an honor when I was wandering about in the woods and on the mountains to escape from the sword of my enemies who thirsted for my blood. But blessing and mercy have been richly bestowed on me by the manifestation of the true Word of God. May we never abandon it! I do not shrink, however, from confessing my faults. I entreat my faithful subjects to pardon the weakness and the failures which have been observed in my reign. I know that many persons think that I have been a harsh ruler; but the days are coming in which the sons of Sweden would gladly raise me out of the dust if they could.^[489]

‘I feel that I have now but a short time to live; and for this reason I am about to have my will read to you; for I have good reasons for desiring that you should approve it.’ The will was then read, the Diet approved it, and swore that it should be carried out. Then Gustavus rose and thanked the States for making him the founder of the royal house. He resigned the government to his son Erick, exhorted his sons to concord, and stretching out his hand towards the assembly, gave it his blessing, and thus took leave of his people.

On the 14th of August Gustavus took to his bed, which he was no more to leave till his death. He said—‘I have been too much occupied with the cares of this world. With all my wealth I could not now buy a remedy which would save my life.’ One of those about him, anxious to know what pain he felt, said to him; using a German mode of speech—‘What do you want?’ He replied—‘The kingdom of heaven, which thou canst not give me.’ 324His chaplain, in whom he had no great confidence, suggested to him that he should confess his sins. Gustavus, who had confessed them to God as well as to his people, but who had a horror of confession to a priest, replied unceremoniously and indignantly—‘Thinkest thou that I shall confess my sins to thee?’ A little while after, he said to those about him—‘I forgive my enemies, and if I have wronged any man, I pray him to forgive me. I ask this of all.’ He then added—‘Live all of you in concord and in peace.’ During the first three weeks he spoke in a remarkable manner about things temporal and things spiritual. During the last three he kept silence, and was frequently seen raising his hands as if in prayer. After making a profession of his faith, he received the communion of the body and the blood of the Saviour. His son John, who was present, and was the cause of his anxious forebodings, which were too soon realized, having heard the confession of his father, exclaimed—‘I swear to abide by it faithfully.’ The king made a sign for paper to be given him, and he wrote—‘Once professed never to be retracted, or a hundred times repeated to....’ His trembling hand could not finish the sentence. After this he remained motionless. The chaplain having begun again his exhortations, one of those in attendance said—‘You speak in vain; His Majesty hears no longer.’ Then the chaplain leaned towards the dying man, and asked him whether his trust was in Jesus Christ, and entreated him, if he heard, to make some sign. To the astonishment of all, the king with a clear voice answered, ‘Yes.’ He then breathed his last. It was eight o’clock in the morning of September 29, 1560.^[490]

Erick, his eldest son, who was heir to the crown, had hitherto appeared little worthy to wear it. In his character were united the eccentric disposition of his mother,^[491] 325the princess of Saxe-Lauenberg, and his father’s passion. He was rash and presumptuous; and when Gustavus spoke to him by way of exhortation or rebuke he was angry. Gustavus, deeply mourning over him, wrote one day to him—‘For the sake of the sufferings of the Son of God, put an end to this martyrdom which thy aged father endures on thy account.’^[492] In his sports he was singular and even cruel. Erick and John, the latter the eldest son of the second wife, were constantly at variance, at first about their games, then about their fiefs, and at last about the crown. Every body knew that the younger of the two brothers was ambitious of the birthright of the elder, and thought that he was entitled to the realm. The father was weighed down with grief on account of these two sons.

Erick had not been left without good counsel. A French Protestant, named Denis Burrey (Beurreus), a zealous Calvinist, had succeeded Normann as his governor. In addition to Burrey, another Frenchman, Charles de Mornay, baron of Varennes, was well received at his court. The two Calvinists persuaded Erick to ask for the hand of the Princess Elizabeth, even before she became Queen of England.^[493] Duke John exerted all his influence to promote this plan, which, in case it succeeded, might leave to him the crown of Sweden. Magnificent embassies were sent; John and Erick himself went to England, but the princess never gave him any hope.

At the time of the prince’s accession to the throne, the people had some hope of him. The germ at least of great qualities was in him; and his understanding, which was above the average, had been developed by the care of his teachers. He was well acquainted with literature, with mathematics, philosophy, and foreign languages.^[494] 326His figure was well formed; he was a good rider, a good swimmer, a good dancer, and a good soldier. He spoke pleasantly and was agreeable in his intercourse with others. But in the depth of his nature was a temper strange, distrustful, suspicious, and fierce, which might on a sudden display itself in outward acts calculated to excite at once both pity and horror.

Burrey, who had been appointed to instruct the prince in letters and in science, was not entrusted with the department of religion. This belonged to the archbishop, Lawrence Petersen, and to the Lutheran ministers named by him. Erick was to be a good Lutheran; but the French Protestant, convinced of the truth of Calvin’s principles, made them known to his pupil. Calvin himself, doubtless through the medium of Burrey, was in correspondence with Gustavus in 1560, towards the close of the king’s life.

In Sweden the Calvinists gave especial prominence to the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper. Burrey, who appears to have apprehended the doctrine in the way of logic rather than of spiritual insight, maintained it by syllogisms. He said—‘All who eat the flesh of Christ and drink his blood have eternal life. Now the ungodly have not eternal life. Therefore the ungodly do not eat the flesh of Christ.’^[495] The Apostle John says nothing about the corporeal mastication, it but speaks only of the spiritual. Therefore, he recognizes no other mastication but that which is by faith. Christ gives his body and his blood only to those who show forth his death. But the ungodly do not show forth. Therefore he does not give it to them. The Frenchman maintained these doctrines in a Latin work. He had of course a right to do so; but he had no right to attack as he did the archbishop, brother of Olaf, a zealous defender of the Lutherans, or 327to allege either in conversation or in his writings that the prelate was a papist. The true Protestants, and foremost among them Zwinglius and Calvin, generally expressed great respect for Luther and for all his disciples, acknowledging them as brethren in the faith. But the sectarian spirit, unfortunately, was beginning now to take the place of the Christian spirit.

The influence of the French Protestants, however, made itself felt in other respects and in a wholesome way. Erick, shortly after his accession to the throne, abolished the festival days which were connected with a superstitious system, and the Catholic rites which had been retained in the divine service. He went farther, and made it everywhere known that his kingdom was a free state, open to all persecuted Protestants. Many Protestants, therefore, especially French, came to Stockholm and were kindly received by the king, becoming even particular objects of his favor. This gave rise to jealousies and suspicions. The question was raised whether the king was not a Calvinist in disguise. Wine having become scarce in Sweden, in consequence of the obstacles thrown in the way of the trade by Denmark, it was asked whether it would not be permissible to make use of some other fluid at the Lord’s supper. The Frenchman, Burrey, held the opinion that it would, and this increased the grief of good Lutherans. The archbishop especially declared himself strongly and with good reason against this fantastic proposal, and published a Latin work on the subject.^[496]

These controversies gave rise to much agitation in Sweden; but they were superseded by troubles of a graver kind. Duke John, Erick’s younger brother, having put forward claims which Erick would not satisfy, and having even caused the king’s envoys to be arrested, and invited the inhabitants of Finland to take an oath of fealty to 328him and to defend him, was made prisoner on the 12th of August, 1563.^[497] A rumor was afterwards current of a conspiracy of the Sture family, who had exercised, before the reign of Gustavus, the royal power as administrators of the kingdom. Their intention, it was said, was to overthrow the house of Vasa and restore the hereditary kingdom to their own family. Erick having met in the street a servant of Svante Sture carrying a gun, this unfortunate man was sentenced to death at the beginning of January, 1567, and several of the Stures and of their friends were thrown into prison. With this incident began the great misfortunes of the prince. Infelicissimus annus Erici regis, he said, speaking of this year in his journal.

On May 24 Svante Sture and another of the prisoners had asked pardon of the king and had received a promise of early liberation. In the evening, as the king was walking with Caroli, ordinary (or bishop) of Calmar, some one ran up and told him that his brother, Duke John, had made his escape and had raised the standard of rebellion. In a state of great excitement, he returned to his castle. His mind wandered; he fancied that every one was a conspirator; he saw himself already hurled from the throne; and, beside himself, he went, dagger in hand, into the room in which Nils Sture was confined.^[498] He rushed upon the unhappy man and pierced him in the arm; one of his guards gave the fatal stroke. At this moment the prison of the father of Nils Sture opened, and the king, overpowered at the sight, fell at his feet and cried—‘For God’s sake pardon me the wrong that I have done you!’ The old man, who did not know what he meant, answered—‘If any thing should happen to my son, you are responsible to me before God.’ ‘Ah,’ said the king, whose thoughts were wandering more and more, ‘you will never 329pardon me, and for this reason you must share the same fate.’ He then fled precipitately, as if the castle were full of assassins and every prisoner loaded with chains were pointing a dagger at him. He took the road to Floetsund, attended by some guards; and in a little while one of these returned with an order to put to death all the prisoners in the castle ‘except Sten.’ Two of them bore this name, and considering the uncertainty, both of them escaped, but the rest perished. Ere long the unhappy Erick was seized with horror at the thought of his crime. He believed himself pursued by the ghost of Nils Sture, whom he had slain. Filled with distress and remorse he plunged into the forest. Burrey, who had left the castle at the moment when the order to execute the prisoners arrived, immediately set out in the track of the prince, whom he desired to recall to his senses, and from whom he intended to obtain, if possible, the revocation of the cruel order. He at length came up with him in the middle of the wood; but the raving man fancied that his old teacher had shared in the conspiracy of those whose lives he wished to save. A prey to the most violent madness, he gave an order to one of his guards, and the Frenchman whom he had loved so well, to whom he owed so much, fell at his feet, pierced through and through.^[499] The unhappy man then got away from his guards, who were still accompanying him, and fled alone. He threw away his kingly apparel, and wandered about in the woods, in the fields, and in the loneliest places, with a gloomy air, wild eyes, and fierce aspect. No one knew where he was. Like the king of Babylon, he went up and down in the land afar from the haunts of men; his dwelling was with the beasts of the field, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven. At length, on the third day after the murder, he made his appearance in the garb of a peasant in a village of the parish of Odensala; 330and presently several of his men who were in search of him ran up to him. ‘No, no,’ said he on receiving the acknowledgments of those who respectfully saluted him, ‘I am not king.’^[500] ‘It is Nils Sture,’ he added, ‘who is administrator of the kingdom.’ This was the man that he had assassinated. They endeavored in vain to pacify him. ‘Like Nero,’ he exclaimed, ‘I have slain my preceptor.’ He would neither eat nor sleep; all entreaties were fruitless. At last Catherine Maenstochter, to whom he had been strongly attached and who soon became his consort, succeeded in persuading him. He now became more calm and allowed them to take him to Upsala. On June 3 he was taken back to Stockholm. He was in a state of great agitation when he entered the town; his heart rent with remorse, his eyes and his hands raised to heaven. It was a long time before he entirely recovered his reason.

Negotiations were set on foot between Duke John and the unhappy king. The former requested an interview with his brother, and this took place on October 9 at Wantholm, or, according to some authorities, at Knappforssen, in Wermeland.^[501] The brothers met under an oak tree, which is still called the King’s Oak. They had a second interview shortly after at Swarhjo. Erick, who was perpetually haunted by the thought that the murders which he had ordered had deprived him of the crown, fell at his brother’s feet and hailed him king. From this time he considered himself a dependent on his brother and spoke sometimes as if he were king and sometimes as if he were a captive. He appeared, at the beginning of 1569, before the States assembled as a high court of justice, and there energetically defended himself, sparing no one, and least of all, the nobility. When John interrupted him by telling him that he was out of his 331mind, he replied, ‘I have only once been out of my mind, and that was when I released thee from prison.’ He was deprived of the crown on the ground that he had lost his reason, and was sentenced to perpetual confinement, but with royal treatment.

Duke John had now reached the summit of his ambition. He set himself to win over adherents, so that no one might be tempted to call to mind the fact that his throne was usurped. He was amiable and obliging alike to the nobles, the ecclesiastics, and the people; and the popularity which he enjoyed seemed daily to increase. ‘Certainly,’ people said, ‘he means loyally to carry out the will of his father.’^[502] But the joy and the popularity did not last long. It was soon perceived that he was giving full play to his hatred of Erick, whom he called his most deadly enemy. He spared his life, indeed, at the entreaty of the queen, widow of the late king, but he made him suffer all the horrors of the most rigorous imprisonment. The unhappy prince had to endure in his own body shameful treatment at the hands of his keepers and of those whom he had displeased in the course of his reign. One day a man more mad and more cruel than himself, Olaf Gustavsson, had a violent altercation with him in the prison, and left him lying in his blood. ‘God knows,’ wrote Erick to his brother John (March 1, 1569), ‘what inhuman tortures I am forced to endure—hunger and cold, infection and darkness, blows and wounds. Deliver me from this misery by banishment. The world is surely large enough to allow of the hatred between brothers being mitigated by the distance of places and of countries.’^[503] But nothing could appease his enemy, his brother. At first he had allowed him to see his wife and his children, which was a great pleasure to the unhappy man; 332but this consolation was afterwards refused him. They gave him neither paper nor ink, and in the long hours of his captivity he used to write with water blackened with charcoal on the margins of the books which he was permitted to read. On these he left, in particular, an eloquent defence of his cause.

Other motives also came into action to destroy the premature popularity of John III. With the life of Burrey and the prison of Erick the Calvinistic period in Sweden was over; with the accession of the new king the popish period began. Sweden presented at this time an example of the manner in which Rome proceeds to bring back to her feet a people that had departed from her. John took delight in the pomp of the Romish worship, and his wife, a Polish princess, was a decided and zealous Roman Catholic. Although she did not belong to that fanatical, barren, and superstitious ultramontanism which is not even a religion, she firmly believed that outside the pale of her own Church there was no salvation. But her faith was sincere. She had no wish that conversions should be effected by force; nevertheless she was convinced that the best of all good works was to extend as widely as possible the domain of the pope. She had for her confessor a Jesuit, named John Herbest; and the work of darkness, of which this man was one of the principal agents, was carried on in a Jesuitical manner. The king began by listening without objection to the assertions of his courtiers that a moderate Catholicism, a middle stand-point between Popery and Lutheranism, would be the best religion. John thought so. He consequently published in 1571 an ordinance purporting that as Anschar had in the ninth century introduced true Christianity, they must abide by it, and must preach good works, as giving salvation equally with faith. At the same time exorcism at baptism, tapers on the altar, the sign of the cross, the elevation of the host, and the multiplicity of altars were re-established. The archbishop, Lawrence 333Petersen, offered no opposition to this ordinance, either from weakness of age or of character, from dread of Calvinism, or from fear of the king. His brother Olaf would have been more vigilant and more steadfast. Further steps were soon taken. The queen, at the suggestion of Cardinal Hosius, implored the king to re-establish the dignity of the priest and the sacrifice of the mass.^[504] On the death of the archbishop, in 1573, John III. named as his successor Lawrence Gothus, a man who being always willing to yield could not fail to be an excellent instrument for the accomplishment of the purposes of Rome. The king caused to be drawn up seventeen articles, which sanctioned the intercession of the saints, prayers for the dead, the re-establishment of convents and of all the ancient ceremonies. The archbishop signed them; and as soon as this pledge was obtained, the ceremony of the consecration was performed with much pomp. On this occasion reappeared the mitre, the episcopal staff, the great cope called pluvial, and the holy oil for the |Romanism In The Ascendent.| anointing of the prelate. Henceforth, Catholicism was in the ascendent. John had his son Sigismund brought up in the strictest Romanism, in the hope of thus opening the way for him to the throne of Poland, which Cardinal Hosius had promised him. Two Jesuits, Florentius Feyt and Lawrence Nicolaï, sent by the famous society with which the king was in correspondence, arrived at Stockholm in 1576, and gave themselves out for Lutheran ministers. They ingratiated themselves amiably and adroitly, says one of them, with the Germans, and this at first more easily than with the Swedes.^[505] They paid visits to the pastors and conversed with them on all manner of subjects for the purpose of gaining them over. They spoke Latin with ease and elegance, so that the good Swedish pastors, who were unlettered men, were 334filled with admiration, and promised them their co-operation.^[506] Feyt, in a college at Stockholm, newly founded by the king, and Nicolaï, at the university of Upsala, spread out their nets, and by lectures, sermons, disputations, and conversation, they succeeded in bringing back to the abandoned faith now one and now another, thus drawing after them a goodly number of souls.^[507]

The cardinal lavished his instructions upon them. ‘Let them avoid creating any scandal,’ he wrote to the Jesuit confessor of the queen; ‘let them extol faith to the skies; let them declare that works without faith are profitless; let them preach Christ as the only mediator and His sacrifice on the cross as the only sacrifice that saves.’^[508] The main point was to get the Swedes to re-enter the Roman pale by giving them to understand that nothing was preached there but the doctrines of the Gospel. This once accomplished, some means would certainly be found of again setting meritorious works by the side of faith, the Virgin Mary by the side of Christ as intercessor, and the sacrifice of the mass by the side of the sacrifice of |Proceedings Of The Jesuits.| Calvary. The king commanded all the pastors to attend the lectures of these Jesuits, passing themselves off as Lutherans. These men quoted the writings of the reformers, but at the same time confuted them, and endeavored to show that they contradicted one another. The king was sometimes present at these disputations, and even took part in them. He spoke against the pope, and thus gave the foreign theologians a pretext for making a clever apology for the Roman court. The reverend fathers, moreover, were not particular. They gained over a secretary of the king, named Johan Henrikson, who was living with a woman whose husband he had killed. 335Father Lawrence, in the first instance, gave absolution to these two wretched people; and afterwards a dispensation to marry. This convert, after having again been an accomplice in crimes, died from drunkenness. In a short time, other Romish priests arrived in Sweden, and were placed in various churches. At the instigation of these missionaries of the pope, many young Swedes were sent abroad, to Rome, to Fulda, and to Olmutz, to be educated there in Jesuit colleges at the expense of the state. Many Roman Catholic books were translated, especially the catechism of the Jesuit Canisius; and these were distributed in large numbers among the people.^[509] Cardinal Hosius did not fail to write to the queen that she should by no means be disheartened nor slacken in her efforts to bring about the conversion of the king.^[510] At the same time he wrote to the king entreating him to become a true Catholic. ‘If there be any scruple in your majesty’s mind,’ said he, ‘there is nothing upon earth I desire more than with God’s help to remove it.’^[511]

The queen and her connections at length prevailed upon the king to take one step towards the pope. Count Pontus de la Gardie set out for Rome, with instructions to request the pontiff, on the part of John III., to appoint prayers to be made throughout the world for the re-establishment of the Catholic religion in the North; to propose his own return and that of his people into the Roman Church, upon condition nevertheless that the ecclesiastical estates which were in the hands of the king and of the nobles should remain there, that the king should be acknowledged head of the Swedish Church, that mass should be allowed to be said partly in Swedish, 336that the cup should be received by the laity, and that marriage should be permitted to the priests, although they ought to be exhorted to celibacy. The court of Rome, without accepting these conditions, left the negotiations open, in hope of getting more another time.^[512] The king, desirous of giving the pontiff a mark of his zeal, caused to be composed and printed, in 1576, under the direction of the Jesuits, a new liturgy almost entirely Roman in character; and in the following year he began to persecute those who refused to accept it. Cardinal Hosius now gave thanks to God for the conversion of this prince (October, 1577.)

This same prince, who now bowed down his head under the yoke of the pope, signalized this year (1577) by the perpetration of one of those crimes which reveal an unnatural heart, a man devoid of feeling. His unhappy brother, although now rendered completely powerless and reduced to a state of the deepest wretchedness, gave him some uneasiness. Among the people there had been movements in his favor. Mornay had been accused of aiming at the restoration of Erick, and on this charge had been put to death on August 21, 1574. It had been openly said that it would be better for one man alone to suffer than for so many to perish in his cause. In January, 1577, the king wrote to Andersen of Bjurum, commander at Oerbyhus, to which place the ex-king had been recently removed. Here is the order given by a brother for the death of a brother; a document such as is not to be found elsewhere in history. It appears that John recollected his brother’s cleverness and energy, which qualities, however, must surely have been diminished by his imprisonment. ‘In case there should be any danger whatsoever, you are to give King Erick a draught of opium or of mercury strong enough to ensure his death within a few hours. If he should positively refuse to take it, you are to have him bound to his seat 337and open veins in his hands and feet till he die. If he should resist and render it impossible to bind him, you are to place him by force upon his bed, and then smother him with the mattress or with large cushions.’^[513] John III., however, did an act of mercy at the same time. He ordered that, before putting his brother to death, a priest should be sent to the Calvinist Erick, at whose hands he should receive the sacrament. What tender concern for his salvation!

The secretary Henrikson, the man who had killed the husband of the woman with whom he lived, consequently arrived at the castle of Oerbyhus accompanied by a chamberlain and the surgeon-major Philip Kern. The latter had prepared the poison, and the three men brought it with them. On Sunday, February 22, the priest presented himself to do his duty. After an interval of two days, the poison was served up to the unfortunate prince in a soup. He took it quite unsuspiciously and died in the night (two o’clock A.M.), February 26, at the age of forty-four.^[514] The deposed king had certainly committed a crime when he wounded with a dagger Nils Sture, whose intention he believed was to snatch from him his crown. But at the spectacle of this cold-blooded poisoning, directed in an ordinance with such minute details, and effected in so cowardly a manner, we feel the shudder of horror aroused by great crimes. John then wrote to Duke Charles that their brother had died after a short illness, of which he, the king, had been informed too late. Charles understood what this meant, and he expressed his grief at the unworthy manner in which King Erick had been buried. ‘He was nevertheless,’ wrote Charles, 338‘king of Sweden, crowned and anointed; and whatever the evil into which he may have fallen, which may God forgive him! in the course of his reign he did many good deeds worthy of a brave man.’^[515] Swedish refugees in various places lamented his tragic end, and even called upon France to avenge it by placing his heir upon the throne.^[516]

After Erick’s death, the fratricide king continued his progress towards popery. The clever Jesuit, Antoine Possevin, who made his appearance as envoy from the emperor, but who was in fact a legate of the pope, arrived in Sweden, for the purpose of getting the king and the kingdom to decide on making a frank submission to Rome.^[517] The king had an interview with him in the convent of Wadstena, and was formally but secretly received by this reverend father into the communion of the Roman Church. While pardoning his sins, the Jesuit imposed on him the penance of fasting every Wednesday, because it was on this day that he had caused his brother to be poisoned.^[518] The influence of this Jesuit was at the same time felt throughout the Church. Orders were given to withdraw from the psalms all the passages against the pope, to exclude Luther’s catechism from the schools, and to submit to the canonical laws of Rome, an extract from which was published. Martin Olaï, bishop of Linkoping, having called the pope Antichrist, appeared publicly in the cathedral, and before the altar was stripped of his pontifical decorations. His diocese was given to Caroli, ordinary of Calmar, a former courtling of Erick’s, a treacherous man, who had driven the king to the murder of Sture. At the same time Jesuits were entering the kingdom 339under various names and various dress; and believing that the time for cautious proceedings was past, they preached vigorously against evangelical doctrine, which they called heretical, so that it began to be said among the common people that these men could do nothing but curse and bark. The district entrusted to the government of Duke Charles was the only one that was protected from this Romish invasion.^[519]

Suddenly the tide ceased flowing and seemed to turn back towards the fountain-head. John III. had cast his eyes upon the duchies of Bari and Rossano, in the kingdom of Naples, believing that his wife, as the daughter of Bona Sforzei, had some title to them. But the pope had taken a course opposed to his interests; and he had likewise sacrificed Sweden in a treaty, which had been concluded through his mediation, between Russia and Poland. At the same time the principles of freedom which Protestantism had made current, especially in opposition to the lordship of the priestly class, had so deeply entered into men’s minds that the practices, the artifices, and the impudence of the Jesuits appeared revolting to the townsmen, and were stirring up in the whole nation a spirit of resistance to the encroachments of the papacy. At |Death Of Queen Catherine.| length, in 1583, Queen Catherine, who had been the soul of the popish reaction, died; and the king having married again, his second wife, Gunila, declared herself heartily against Rome.

At this time the tide, which ever rising had borne along with it into Sweden the rites and the doctrines of Rome, was succeeded by the ebb, which as it retired swept away successively every thing which the rising waters had deposited on these northern shores. The pastor of Stockholm, who had become a Catholic, was deprived; the Jesuits were driven out of the kingdom, and the posts which they held in the college of Stockholm were given to their adversaries. Public opinion 340energetically declared itself against the adherents of the pope; and the king, turning from one wrong course to another, began to persecute them, although he still retained his liturgy. He died in 1592, and his son Sigismund, a zealous papist, who, since 1587, had been king of Poland, now returning to Sweden, began to oppress Protestantism. His uncle, Duke Charles of Sudermania, an intelligent and enterprising prince, who was not only opposed to popery, but had a leaning towards the Protestant side, put himself at the head of this party. Sigismund was obliged to leave Sweden, and Charles became first administrator of the kingdom and ultimately king.^[520]

Charles convoked at Upsala a general assembly for the purpose of regulating the state of the Church. On the 25th of February, 1593, he was there present himself with his council, four bishops, more than three hundred pastors, deputies from all parts of the kingdom, many nobles, townsmen, and peasants. There was a young professor of theology from Upsala, Nicolaus Bothniensis, who had distinguished himself by his resistance to Romish institutions, and had even been thrown into prison. The assembly, desirous of doing honor to his fidelity, now named him its president. With one accord the assembly declared that Holy Scripture interpreted by itself was the only basis and the only source of evangelical doctrine. After this all the articles of the Confession of Augsburg were read; and Peter Jona, who had just been named bishop of Strengnaes, rose and said, ‘Let us all hold fast this doctrine; and will you remain faithful to it even if it should please God that you must suffer for so doing?’ All answered, ‘We are prepared to sacrifice for its sake all that we possess in the world, our property and our lives.’ Peter Jona then resuming his speech said, ‘Sweden is now become one man, and we all have one and the same God.’^[521]

341All the changes in doctrine and in ritual which had been introduced in the reign of John III. were abolished. The teaching of evangelical doctrine was universally established. The assembly of Upsala was an event the results of which were felt far and wide, beyond the limits of Sweden. This was manifest when, at a later period, by the services of Gustavus Adolphus, the Reformation was consolidated in Europe.

CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST REFORMERS AND THE FIRST PERSECUTORS IN HUNGARY.
(1518-1526.)

Few countries had so much need of the Reformation as Hungary. When, in the year 1000, she abandoned paganism under King Stephen, she attached herself to Rome, and Rome brought on her two evils. She sent into the country large numbers of monks, priests, prelates, primates, and legates; and these men led her—this was the first evil—to a mere outward profession of Christianity, and oppressed the various tribes who peopled the land—this was the second evil. Further, the people, rather more than half a century later, assembled at Alba-Royal, rose in revolt against the clergy. The former were defeated, many were put to death, and the pope, boasting of the victory, wrote to the king, bidding him remember that henceforth the pope of Rome was his suzerain. Shortly before the Reformation, in 1512, the Hungarian passion for independence led them to revolt again. But at this time they were destitute of true Christian principles, and the only result of the movement was to cover their country with devastation, and deluge it with the blood of sixty thousand of its sons. This heroic nation was once more thrown into bondage. 343The light and the power of the Gospel were needed to effect its regeneration, and to infuse strength into it for resisting its two enemies, the Grand Turk and the pope.

If the tribes of Hungary were without a true and living faith, they were nevertheless, the Magyars especially, among the races best fitted to embrace the Reformation. They were characterized by a noble independence of spirit and a nature endowed with higher cravings. When some Christian men proclaimed among them the grace of Jesus Christ, they joyfully embraced the spiritual truths which Geneva was then diffusing in Europe; and the liveliness of their faith, the morality of their conduct, their love of freedom, and the prudence of their character, soon rendered a glorious testimony to the Reformation. But the cleverness and the violent persecuting spirit of the Hungarian prelates and of the courts of Rome and Vienna contended vigorously against the religious renovation of this people, drew them back in part to the bosom of the Church, and prevented the spread of evangelical doctrine into other districts of the country. The mighty forces of the flesh engaged in a conflict with the mighty forces of the spirit. The dominion of prejudice gained the ascendency over that of truth. Faith, wisdom, virtue, originative energy, freedom—all were crushed. God, however, by his power, kept for himself a people in these lands; and a considerable part of the Hungarian nation remained Protestant, but were constantly subject to the inspection of priests and to oppression by the powerful.

Hungary, in common with the other countries of eastern Europe, had received, before the Reformation of the sixteenth century and while it was still in subjection to Rome, some rays of light which here and there illumined it. Some of the Vaudois had sought refuge there; the doctrine of John Hus had been spread in the land; some of the brethren banished from Bohemia had built churches there, and had acquired great influence.

344In 1521 two young people, children almost, the hope of Hungary, were united before the altar. The husband was Louis II., a son of King Ladislaus, who had ascended the throne in 1510, at the age of ten. The young prince, who was amiable, but easy tempered, weak, and addicted to pleasure, was not capable of preventing the prevalence of disorder in the kingdom at the time the Turks were threatening it with their terrible invasions. He had little courage, a quality which was common enough among his fellow-countrymen; he was obstinate, and yet allowed his courtiers and his bishops to rule over him:

The wife, named Mary, aged eighteen years, was of quite a different character. A sister of Charles the Fifth, a daughter of the unfortunate Joanna, queen of Castile and Aragon, who was kept in prison till her death, partly perhaps because she preferred the Gospel to the pope, Mary like her mother and still more than her mother had tasted the doctrine of the Gospel. Of lofty character, with a kindly heart, a sound understanding, and high intellectual abilities, well informed and able to speak five languages, it was said of her that she was as competent to rule over minds in peace as to command armies in war. She did not actually march at their head, but she once caused a severe defeat to be given to Henry II., the son of Francis I.

While still very young and residing at the court of her grandfather Maximilian, she had read with delight the first works of Luther. ‘Her chamber was her oratory,’ said Erasmus. She loved the chase, but she did not start for this sport without taking with her her New Testament. She was equally fond of pursuing on horseback the hart and the hare, and of sitting under a tree to read the word of the Saviour. We have elsewhere mentioned the fact that while she was at Augsburg in 1530, in company with her brother Charles the Fifth and the archbishops, bishops, 345and legates of the papacy, she courageously had the evangelical services celebrated in her apartments. Melanchthon called her a woman of heroic genius. She would fain have given her protection to the Reformation in Hungary, but the influence of the priests over the king was stronger than her own. Subsequently also she entreated the emperor not to submit to the domination of the clergy.^[522]

It was by a kind of thunder-clap that the Reformation began in Hungary. In 1518 there appeared a work entitled, De Horrendo Idololatriæ Crimine. In 1520 and 1521 the earliest writings of Luther, on Christian Liberty, on the Epistle to the Galatians, and others besides, were brought into the kingdom by traders who came from Germany. The Captivity of Babylon delighted the Hungarians, and led many of them to separate themselves from the ultramontane Roman Church. Other evangelical books explaining the doctrine of salvation were read with eagerness. Nobles and townsmen declared for the Reformation; and this they did with all the energy of their national character. The like events were taking place in Transylvania.

Progress so rapid could not but provoke persecution. It was to begin with anathemas, but it would soon go on to rigorous deeds, and would rage almost without intermission.

Szakmary, archbishop of Gran, hoping to annihilate Reform at one blow, assembled his scribes, and had a public document drawn up. In 1521 condemnation of Luther and of his writings resounded from the pulpits of the principal Hungarian churches.^[523]

Most of the Hungarians who heard this were very much astonished; and the publication of the anathemas produced a contrary effect to that which the prelate had aimed at. It awakened in the hearers a consciousness 346of the important nature of the Reformation; so that its friends were encouraged, and many were led to seek after the truth who had not previously concerned themselves about it. Many ecclesiastics, especially, who had been oppressed by the higher clergy, and had long sighed for the time of justice and freedom, now lifted up their heads, read the sacred books, and declared that Luther’s doctrine, founded on the Word of God, alone was true. They did not remain inactive; but by their living and powerful words they enlightened the minds of men. Parishes, villages, and towns joyfully greeted the Reformation.

One of the first to proclaim the Gospel in Hungary appears to have been Thomas Preussner. Others followed him. Cordatus at Bartfeld, in 1522, Siklosy at Neustadt, Kopacsy at Sarospatak, Radan and Husser at Debreczin, and George at Hermanstadt, proclaimed the tidings of a salvation freely given to those who laid hold on Christ by faith. Learned men at the same time were bearing witness to the truth at the university of Buda. Simon Grynaeus, son of a simple Suabian peasant, and afterwards a friend of Calvin, having from childhood shown a remarkable disposition for study, had been sent at the age of fourteen to the famous school of Pforzheim. Thence he had passed to the university of Vienna, where he distinguished himself and took the degree of master of arts. The king then called him to Buda. Grynaeus did not confine himself to teaching letters there, but openly and boldly announced to the people the great doctrines of the Gospel which he had embraced with all his heart. Another doctor, Winsheim, also professed openly the same faith; and, what was an unlooked-for event, people were talking at Pesth, in the old capital of the kings, on the banks of the Danube, and near the borders of Turkey, of that same Word of God which was giving joy to so many Germans on the banks of the Elbe. The Reformation, like a broad river, brought life and prosperity into these vast regions which extend between the 347Alps, the Carpathian Mountains, and the Balkan. But, alas! the river, dried up here and there by the parching heat of persecution, was one day to shrink and be turned into a stagnant and sleepy body of water like that which runs to lose itself in the dry sands of the desert.^[524]

These times, however, were as yet remote. The reformation of the Magyars was still in its period of growth and life. The tidings of the struggle which had begun in Germany excited in men’s minds a burning desire to see Luther, to hear him, and to receive from his very lips the heavenly doctrine.^[525] This is a characteristic feature of the Hungarian Reformation. The wish to go and drink the living water at its very source became intense, and all who were able to do so hastened to Wittenberg. Martin Cyriaci from Leutschau arrived there in 1522. He was followed in 1524 by Dionysius Link, Balthazar Gleba from Buda, and a great number of their countrymen.^[526] Joyfully they greeted the modest city from which light was shed over the world. They fixed their gaze with timid respect on Luther and on Melanchthon; took their places on the benches of their auditories; received into their minds and hearts the words of these illustrious masters, and engraved them there more indelibly than on the leaves of their note-books.

In Hungary it began gradually to be noticed that one student and another was missing. The cause of their absence became known; they were gone to Wittenberg. The bishops, provoked at these heretical pilgrimages, denounced them to the king. These priests had no difficulty in getting their views adopted by this young man, who, but a little while before, had given proof of his character. Louis, who was king of Bohemia as well as of Hungary, 348had gone to Prague for the coronation of the queen, Mary; and as he passed through Moravia he had a parley with the townsmen of Iglau, and had declared to them that unless they abandoned the Saxon heresy he would have them put to death. At the same time he had ordered their pastor, John Speratus, to be thrown into prison. This was the wedding bouquet which Louis II. presented to his young, lovely, and Christian spouse, on the occasion of her coronation.^[527]

The archbishops and the priests, in possession of all their privileges, put themselves at the head of the opposition. Many of them, of course, were actuated by a higher motive, the glory of the Roman Church; but in general they had no mind to let what they had usurped be taken from them. King Louis and other princes, pressed by the clergy, lent them their own power and authority; but the ecclesiastics were the authors of the persecution. A religious philosopher of the eighteenth century ^[528] has said, ‘The clergy are the indirect cause of the crimes of kings. While they talk incessantly of God, they only aim at establishing their own dominion.’ This is a strong saying, and the author forgets that in the Catholic Church there are, and always have been, some good priests and good laymen. Let us not exaggerate. Still, the empire of the clergy, the despotism with which it crushed consciences, is a great historical fact. It concealed the Holy Scriptures, but it brought out its tariffs of indulgences, its exactions, its punishments with fire and sword. At a later time the progress of Christian civilization no longer allowed resort to such barbarous practices. But if evangelical Christianity is exposed henceforth only to senseless accusations, and frequently to insults on the part of the adherents of Rome, another adversary has appeared at the opposite pole; and each is a menace to freedom, to truth, and to the life of society. ‘If the European 349world is not to perish like the Roman empire,’ a philosopher of our own day has said,^[529] ‘some religious symbol must be found which is adequate to the rescue of souls from both the evils which at this day are contending for them—a criminal atheism and a retrograde theology.’ This symbol is the Word of God.

The Hungarian priests dealt a hard blow. They wanted to exclude the Reformation not from their own country alone, but from the whole world. They said that it was necessary to dry up the fountain from which these poisoned waters flowed. Hungary then could no longer have to fear a Lutheran deluge. At their request the young king then wrote to the old elector of Saxony: ‘How can you patronize Luther, who attacks the Christian faith and the authority of the Church, who derides princes and praises the Turks? Leave off countenancing this monk, and punish him severely.’^[530] Frederick the Wise was not of a nature to give himself up to the leading of a young man without understanding. ‘To allege that Luther teaches things contrary to the faith,’ he replied, ‘that he insults the Christian princes, that he extols the Turks, and that in all these misdeeds he is countenanced by me, is to heap calumny upon calumny. I beg that you will let me know who are putting such fables into circulation.’ Louis had not to go far to find them. It was the priests of his court; but in his astonishment at the reply of the illustrious elector, he took care not to say so.

This young, light-headed king no longer knew what to think. His bishops spoke to him in one way; the wisest prince in Europe said just the reverse. He had threatened with death the reformers of a small Moravian town; and now, not only were Moravia and Bohemia full of the faith of John Hus, but the Reformation appeared to triumph 350in Hungary, and Transylvania likewise was beginning to receive it. Two ministers of the Gospel, who came from Silesia and who had heard Luther at Wittenberg, arrived one day at Hermanstadt. They distributed there the works of the reformer, expounded the Scriptures plainly to the people, showed them all the consolation that is in the Gospel, and vigorously attacked the Roman Church. They were both of them ex-Dominicans; and their names were Ambrose and George. Mark Pempflinger, a count and chief judge, an eminent and very influential man, who was a reader of Luther’s writings, gave his protection to the two evangelists. A third soon arrived, whose name was John Surdaster. Animated with burning zeal, he began by preaching in the open air; afterwards, owing to the intervention of Pempflinger, he removed into St. Elizabeth’s church. The crowd which came to hear him was immense, and in it were seen members of the council. While giving their attention to men and women, the reformers did not overlook children. They felt a warm affection for them, and delighted to explain the Gospel to them in a simple manner adapted to their understandings. They instilled into them the fear of God and an abhorrence of sin, and sought to lead them to Jesus, and thus to give them a simple but efficient piety. They knew that man having fallen must be restored. They began to instruct children out of doors, in the public place. This boldness gave the greatest offence to the priests, who complained, in high quarters, that these foreigners were not only instructing the young, but were teaching them false doctrines. The two Silesian monks being summoned to Gran by the archbishop, were not able to return to Transylvania.^[531]

But the Gospel remained there. A fire had been kindled in the heart of the people, and nothing could extinguish it. The Catholic rites were deserted by a large 351number, the priests were removed from several pulpits, which were then filled by ministers of the divine word, who taught in their stead. ‘The power of the truth,’ says a historian, ‘brought souls to freedom.’ But while thoughtful minds were gaining strength from the reading of the sacred books, there were triflers who merely laughed at the superstitions which they had abandoned, and sang verses about the pope. The Catholics, however, were not disheartened; the procession on Corpus Christi Day took place as usual, with much pomp and with large lighted tapers. ‘Do our priests believe then,’ said some, ‘that God has become blind, that they carry so many lights in full day?‘^[532] A serious and charitable reformation alone is a true one; nevertheless the prophet Elijah overwhelmed with his irony the prophets of the groves.^[533]

The outcries increased. Never had so deadly a heresy been seen. The most pious declarations of the reformers were taxed with hypocrisy; their most sincere professions with subtility and falsehood; their most Christian dogmas were atrocious. Never had the devil woven a more dangerous doctrine. The archbishop was no longer equal to the occasion; the thunders of the Vatican must roll. The denunciations increased in seriousness. The archbishop of Gran betook himself to Rome. The papacy was agitated at the report of the deeds which were denounced before it, and Clement VII. sent into Hungary the celebrated Cardinal Cajetan, furnishing him on his departure with every thing calculated to win over the king. He delivered to the cardinal for the king a present of sixty thousand ducats, ostensibly intended for the defence of the kingdom against the Turks, but also designed to rekindle the zeal of Louis II. against the reformers. The pope also entrusted him with a letter in which he urged the king to destroy the heresy. How resist a request which was accompanied by sixty thousand 352pieces of gold and earnestly supported by the bishops? In 1523 a Diet was convoked, which was skilfully managed by the clergy. The delegates of the latter said to the king—‘Will your royal majesty deign as a Catholic prince to take severe measures against all Lutherans, their patrons, and their adherents? They are manifest heretics and enemies of the Holy Virgin Mary. Punish them by decapitation and by confiscation of all their property.’^[534]

Louis II. acceded to this demand, and on the 15th of October, 1524, he issued a severe ordinance against the Reformation. ‘This thing displeases me greatly,’ he said. ‘We desire that our subjects should keep pure from all stain and all errors the faith which we have received from our ancestors; and we some time ago decreed that no one in our kingdom should embrace or approve this sect.’^[535] Next, he commanded those whom he addressed, on pain of forfeiting life and goods, to do every thing possible to stay the Lutheran heresy.

The archbishop of Gran, who was returning from Rome, and Cardinal Szalkai caused commissaries to be appointed for the suppression of heresy; and, as Hermanstadt was causing the greatest uneasiness, they directed them first to this town. A good many people were astonished to see these agents of the pope intent at such a time on persecution. The Turks were threatening an invasion of Hungary; and was this the moment to breed division among the citizens? Was there not a necessity for establishing a good understanding among them all, and of uniting them in heart and in will? Ought Hungary to be exposed, by a division of its forces, to a frightful catastrophe? 353All these considerations were ineffectual. The Roman clergy shrank from nothing. Dreading the Gospel more than the Turk, they rashly flung their brands of discord into the midst of a generous people.

The fire, however, did not burn so well as had been hoped. When the commissaries arrived in Transylvania, they found opinions so decided in favor of the Gospel, that they renounced their intention of burning men and confined themselves to burning the books. The writings of the apostles and the reformers were taken by force from the townsmen; a huge fire was kindled in the market-place, and the best of the books were thrown into it. The archiepiscopal commissaries could not deny themselves the pleasure of being present at this execution, for want of others, and they watched the flames with a joy which they could hardly suppress. Meanwhile, a psalter on fire, caught up by the wind, fell upon the bald head of one of them, and the poor man was so dangerously injured that he died within three days. The death intended for the persecuted overtook the persecutors. Executions of a like kind took place in other Hungarian towns. The warden of the Franciscan convent at Oedenburg displayed extraordinary zeal and ordered the works of the great Luther to be burnt by the hangman. In the archives of the town may still be read the following entry—‘Anno 1525, Monday after New Year’s Day, paid to the hangman for burning the Lutheran books, 1 d. d.’^[536]

This was not enough. What would it avail to have destroyed so many printed sheets, if there were still left in the kingdom many living voices to proclaim the salvation of Jesus Christ? There was one voice especially which they longed at any cost to silence. The evangelical light was shining brighter and brighter in the university of Pesth; and this was mainly owing to Grynaeus, who zealously taught the truth there. These Dominicans obtained a decree against him. This excellent man was 354seized and cast into prison. But some of the nobles took his part, and the prison doors were opened. ‘Depart,’ they said to him; ‘leave the kingdom.’ Hungary’s loss became Switzerland’s gain. Grynaeus became professor of philosophy at Basel; and twelve years later he welcomed Calvin there after his expulsion from Geneva. Winsheim, a man more prudent and more timid than Grynaeus, kept his post for two years longer, but was at length banished in 1525, and became professor of Greek at Wittenberg. It was mainly on the ground of their opposition to the worship of the Virgin that these two disciples of Christ were driven from Hungary. But neither prison nor exile could banish the Reformation. The fire within was increasing and no one was capable of extinguishing it.

Fresh students set out for Wittenberg. Martin Cyriaci of Leutschau returned thence, impressed and strengthened by Luther’s teaching, and applied himself immediately to the work. Some influential nobles and some of the cities also declared for the Reformation. In 1525, the five free towns of Upper Hungary pronounced themselves in its favor, namely, Leutschau, Seben, Bartfeld, Eperies and Kaschau. In Transylvania a Lutheran school had been founded; and while the priests were every Sunday excommunicating those whom they called heretics, laymen protected them against persecution. If any of the clergy wanted to erect scaffolds, merchants and artisans rose and prevented it.^[537]

The archbishop of Gran and the legate of the pope, who had counted on destroying the Reformation by means of the royal edicts, were filled with grief when they saw that these documents availed them nothing; and they made more strenuous efforts still to use and to abuse the youth and weakness of the king.^[538]

The archbishop had assumed in Hungary the part of 355persecutor of the Reformation; and he resolved, seeing that it was so hard to kill, to give it a fresh blow. He wished the persecution to be at once more general and more cruel. As a Diet was to meet in 1525, he determined, with the cardinal’s assent, to promote a new edict. Having been formerly governor to the king, the archbishop had great influence at court, and knew perfectly well how to proceed in order to gain over his old pupil. He manœuvred so cleverly that he got what he aimed at.^[539] All that the pious queen could say to the young king was powerless before the influence of the two prelates and the sixty thousand ducats. The priests gained over also the Catholic members of the Diet. They were led to believe that if they once got rid of Luther it would be easier to effect their deliverance from Mohammed. They were not to be long, however, before they found out their mistake. Louis commanded Duke Charles of Munsterberg, governor of Bohemia, to banish thence all the Lutherans and the Picards; and an edict which became a law of the kingdom of Hungary ordered the general extirpation, by burning, of the evangelicals.

They now set to work. At Buda lived a bookseller named George, a marked man with the pope’s party, as a seller of suspected books. George was apprehended, his Christian books were carried off, and the pious bookseller was burnt, together with his volumes, which served as his funeral pile.^[540] Louis ordered that the same course should be pursued in all his dominions. He wrote to several magistrates at Oedenburg, Hermanstadt, and other places; and particularly addressed Count Pempflinger in Transylvania, enjoining him to extirpate heresy, threatening him with the severest punishments if he failed to do so, and promising him his royal favor if he executed his cruel edicts. Hungary was to be covered with scaffolds. 356But a storm, gathering in the East, was rapidly coming on, bringing Divine punishments. The sword of the persecutor was to be broken, the disciples of Christ saved, and the young and unfortunate prince, a victim of clerical intrigues, was to pay dear for all his cruelties.

CHAPTER II.
SOLYMAN’S GREAT VICTORY.
(1526).

Solyman the Great, the conqueror, the magnificent, the most famous of the Sultans, was marching at the head of a numerous army. His life was to be for nearly half a century a series of battles and of victories. Five years before this time the Turks had taken Belgrade and bathed their feet in the Danube. The illustrious follower of Mohammed intended to do more. He purposed to invade Hungary, Austria, Italy, and Spain. The cross should be trodden under foot, and the crescent should wave triumphantly above it. Europe was to become Mussulman. On the 23d of April, 1526, Solyman, who was preparing to leave Constantinople, visited the tombs of his ancestors and of the martyrs of Islam. Then, glorious in his youth and strength—he was now thirty-two years of age—endowed with the energy of his creed, inflamed with that passion for conquest which had distinguished his forefathers, the prince set out from Constantinople at the head of an army which was continually receiving reinforcements. Ibrahim Pacha, who set out before him, was already besieging Peterwaradin. He took this town; and at the moment of the Sultan’s entering upon the soil of Hungary, at the head of three hundred thousand soldiers, Ibrahim laid at his feet, as a token of welcome, fifty Hungarian heads. ‘Forward! 357To Pesth!’ was the cry raised in the camp of the son of Selim. This great army set out on its march along the Danube.

In Hungary nothing was ready. All the land was seized with alarm. The most enlightened men did not deceive themselves. In the assembly at Tolna it had been asserted that ‘every kingdom is in need of two things for its defence, armies and laws; now our Hungary has neither of these.’^[541] Division among the grandees and the pretensions of the clergy had weakened the country. Places were bestowed only as matter of personal favor; soldiers were parading and showing themselves off in the streets of the capital, while the frontiers were left without defenders. The young queen strove in vain to establish order in the state, for the grandees opposed it. At their head was the powerful Zapolya, who proudly relied on his seventy-two castles. This high and sovereign lord, of whom a prediction had been uttered that the crown would one day be placed on his head, asked for nothing better than to see the discomfiture of his native land, for he hoped that it would thus become easier for him to get himself proclaimed king.^[542] Louis was entreated to exercise his authority and to reform abuses; but things remained in that mournful state of confusion which precedes the ruin of a nation.

Solyman had called upon the king, by a message of the 20th February, to pay him tribute, threatening at the same time that if he refused to do so he would annihilate the Christian faith, and bring both his princes and his people into subjection to himself. The king, young and thoughtless, had paid little attention to the summons. But when he learnt that the Sultan had left Constantinople, he was excited and perplexed; and he understood that it was necessary to put Hungary in a state of defence. But it 358was now too late. He wished to levy taxes, but money did not come in. He endeavored to form an army, but recruits did not make their appearance; he appealed to the rich, but these chose rather to employ their wealth in decorating churches. He issued the most stringent orders; all Hungary was to rise, even the students, priests, and monks; in the country one priest only was to remain for the service of two parishes. But hardly a man moved. At last, when the enemy was drawing near, when it was known that he was marching on Pesth, the necessity was felt of occupying the passes on which it might be possible to check his advance. But the prince had only an army of three thousand men, and only fifty thousand florins to cover the expenses of the war. This sum had been lent him by the banker Fugger on solid securities. Young, inexperienced, and unenergetic, he was not at all inclined to go to meet Solyman. But the magnates refused to march without the king. Louis then formed a bold resolution. ‘I see well,’ he said sorrowfully, ‘that my head must answer for theirs, and I am going to take it to the enemy.’ He took leave of his young wife in the island of Csepel, near Buda. Although they were not much in agreement, they loved each other. Their hearts were torn;

On the 24th of July the king set out with his small force. The Christians numbered but one against a hundred of their enemies.^[543]

Meanwhile, though marching against the successor of Mohammed, Louis had not withdrawn his decrees against the disciples of Jesus Christ. Were the reformers who did not set out to the war, the women, the old men, the children, and those who were already prisoners for the Gospel’s sake, to be cruelly put to death? The noble 359Pempflinger was greatly distressed. He had from the first looked on the persecuting edicts as unjust, and he now felt the necessity of declaring to the king that to send the disciples of the Lord to the stake would be to call down the judgment of God on Hungary. Nor could he endure the thought that every other parish should be left without a pastor. He resolved therefore to go to Louis. If every minister of religion remained in his parish to take care of the afflicted, if the sentence of death which had gone forth against the evangelicals were revoked, and if they were allowed to go out to defend their country on the field of battle, the divine wrath might perhaps be appeased and Hungary and the Gospel might be saved. The monks already, taking advantage of the edict of persecution and of the general excitement, were striving to stir up the people and to obtain by violent means the death of the evangelicals. In their view these were the sacrifices likely to avert calamities which were ready to fall upon the land. The count set out with all speed; but ere long his progress was arrested by terrible tidings.^[544]

The young king, while marching at the head of his three thousand men, had been joined by the Hungarian magnates and the Polish companies. By the time he reached Tolna, he had from ten to twelve thousand men. The troops from Bohemia, Moravia, Croatia, and Transylvania were not yet under his banner. He received, however, some additional forces, and reached Mohacz on the Danube, a point about half-way between his capital and the Turkish frontier, at the head of about twenty-seven thousand men. Hardly any of these had ever been under fire. In the middle ages the command of armies had frequently been given to ecclesiastics. Louis followed this strange custom, and entrusted his troops to Jomory, archbishop of Cologne, an ex-Franciscan, who had previously served one or two campaigns, and had won distinction. The king thought that an energetic 360monk would be better, in spite of his frock, than a cowardly general. But this nomination showed plainly into what hands the king had fallen.

Solyman had, unopposed, thrown a convenient bridge across the river, and his immense army had for the last five days been defiling over it. He was acquainted with the art of war and with the scientific manœuvres which had already been practised by Gonzalo of Cordova and other great captains. He had a powerful artillery, and his Janissaries were excellent marksmen. Louis, who was aware of the superiority of his enemy, might have retired on Buda and Pesth, and have taken up a strong position there while occupied in collecting additional bodies of troops. But he was, like his subjects, blind to the feebleness of his resources, and filled with hopes of the most delusive kind. The two armies were separated by intervening hills. On August 29th the Turks began to appear upon the heights, and to descend into the plain. Louis, pale as death, had himself invested with his armor.^[545] The monk commanding in chief and the most intelligent of the leaders foresaw the disaster. Many nobles and ecclesiastics shared their opinion. ‘Twenty-six thousand Hungarians,’ said Bishop Perenyi, ‘are on their way, led by the Franciscan Jomory, to die martyrs of the faith and to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ The prelate added by way of consolation, ‘Let us hope that the chancellor will be spared in order to obtain their canonization of the pope.’ The Hungarians, seeing the Mussulmans come down the hill and approach, throw themselves on them. The Turks disperse and retire, and the Hungarians, joyful at a flight so unexpected, reach the top of the hill. There they discover the countless host of the Osmanlis, but, deceived by the retreat of the vanguard, they believe that victory is already theirs, and rush upon the enemy. Solyman had had recourse 361to a common artifice in war. His soldiers had made a feigned flight only for the purpose of drawing the enemy after them. At the back of the hill he had planted three hundred guns, and the moment Louis and his men came in sight a terrible fire received them. At the same time the cavalry of the Spahis fell on the two wings of the small Christian army, disorder began, the bravest fell, the weakest fled.

The young king, who saw his army destroyed, made his escape like the rest. A Silesian ran before him to guide him in his flight. When he reached the plain he came to a piece of black, stagnant water, which he was obliged to cross. He pushed on his horse to reach the opposite bank, which was very high; but in climbing the animal slipped and fell with the prince, who was buried in the marshy waters. Melancholy burial-place! Louis had not even the honor of dying arms in hand. All was lost! The crescent triumphed. The king, twenty-eight magnates, five hundred nobles, seven bishops, and twenty thousand armed men left their corpses on the field of battle.^[546] Terror spread far and wide. The keys of the capital were brought to the Sultan. He pillaged Buda, set fire to the town, reduced the library to ashes, ravaged Hungary as far as the Theiss, and caused two hundred thousand Hungarians to perish by the hands of his Mussulmans.

This victory, which appeared to ensure the predominance of Islamism, filled Germany and all Europe with sorrow and alarm. There were some small compensations. Pempflinger, having no longer to fear either the priests or the king, saved the evangelical Christians who were threatened by the fury of the monks. But this deliverance of a few did not lessen the horror of the public disaster. At the sight of their smoking towns, their devastated fields, their slaughtered countrymen, and the crescent taking the place of the cross, the Hungarians 362wept over the ruin of their country. The unfortunate Mary, a widow still so young, lost at the same time her husband and her crown, and saw with distress of heart the Hungary which she loved ravaged by the Turks.

This terrible blow was felt at Wittenberg, where the Hungarian students had excited a warm interest in their native land. Luther on hearing of the affliction of the queen was moved with lively pity, and wrote to her a letter full of consolation: ‘Most gracious queen, knowing the affection of your Majesty, and learning that the Turk has smitten the noble young prince, your husband, I desire in this great and sudden calamity to comfort you so far as God may enable me, and I send you for this purpose four psalms (with reflections), which will teach your Majesty to trust solely in the true Father who is in heaven, and to seek all your consolation in Jesus Christ, the true spouse, who is also our brother, having become our flesh and our blood. These psalms will reveal to you in all its riches the love of the Father and the Son.’ ‘Dear daughter,’ said Luther further to the queen, ‘let the wicked oppress thee and thy cause; let them, wrapped in clouds, cause the rain and the hail to fall upon thy head and bury thee in darkness. Commend thy cause to God alone. Wait upon Him. Then shall He bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday. God permits indeed the righteous to fall into the hands of the wicked, but He does not leave them there.

‘The pope and his agents condemned John Hus, but that was of no avail. Condemnation, outcries, hypocritical tears, rage, tempest, bulls, lead, seal, excommunication, all was useless. Hus has still lived on gloriously, and neither bishops, nor universities, nor princes, nor kings, have been able to do any thing against him. This man alone, this dead man, this innocent Abel has struck a Cain full of life, the pope and all his party; and in consequence of his powerful words they have been acknowledged as heretics, apostates, murderers, and blasphemers, 363they could not but burst with rage at it.’^[547] It is difficult for Luther to utter a word of consolation without adding a word of energy and of reprobation. He sometimes adds a violent word. He could be a lamb, but he was also a lion.

The trial and these consolations helped the young queen onward in the path of piety. It was with pain that Charles the Fifth observed her evangelical sentiments; and he and his ministers frequently made her sensible of it. They would fain have taken from her her Gospel. But the emperor loved her, and always finished by bearing with her. She gave expression in a beautiful hymn to the consolations which she found in communion with God. ‘If I can not escape misfortune,’ she says in her hymn, ‘I must endure dishonor for my faith; I know at least, and this is my strength, that the world can not take away from me the favor and the grace of God. God is not far off; if He hide His face, it is for a little while, and ere long He will destroy those who take from me His word.

‘All trials last but for a moment. Lord Jesus Christ! Thou wilt be with me, and when they fight against me, Thou wilt look upon my grief as if it were Thine own.^[548]

‘Must I enter upon this path ... to which they urge me ... well, world, as thou wilt! God is my shield, and He will assuredly be with me everywhere.’

This path, this vocation of which she speaks, could not 364but alarm her. Charles the Fifth, knowing the great abilities of his sister, named her, in 1531, Governess of the Netherlands. She re-entered the palace of Brussels in which she was born. She had an evangelical chaplain; but while endeavoring to soften the persecuting orders of the emperor, she was often compelled to submit to their execution and to attend the Catholic ceremonies in the court chapel. She was doubtless afraid that if she offered any resistance to the inflexible will of her dreaded brother she would be cast into prison for life, like her mother Joanna, called the Mad.

If Mary was consoled by the words of Luther, the friends of the Gospel in Hungary saw danger increasing around them. The king being dead, the ambitious Zapolya at length attained the object of his desire. He was crowned king on the 26th of November, 1526, in the ancient palace of Alba-Royal, which had been for five centuries the abode of the kings. He was not the only claimant of the sceptre of Hungary. The archduke Ferdinand of Austria, relying upon the arrangement entered into with King Ladislaus and supported by the partisans of his sister, the Queen Mary, had himself crowned at Presburg. These two kings, each aspiring to the support of Rome and of her clergy, had only one point in common—their opposition to the Reformation—and in cruelty they were to be rivals of the terrible Turk.

Zapolya published, January 25, 1527, an edict against the Lutherans, and the priests immediately made use of it. The Gospel had gained adherents in all parts of the country, and particularly on the mountains and in the pleasant valleys of the Karpathians, rich in mines of silver and gold. Libethen, a town of miners, had a flourishing church, all the members of which lived in the most charming brotherhood. A rising of the laborers in the mines was the pretext of which the priests availed themselves to stir up persecution. They accused these men of peace of having instigated the revolt. The pastor succeeded 365in hiding himself in a deep hollow in the mines; but the rector of the school and six councillors were seized and taken to the town of Neusol. ‘Abjure your heresies,’ said the judge, ‘and disclose to us the hiding-place of your pastor, or you will be burnt alive.’ The councillors, alternately threatened and flattered, gave way. Constables (sbirri) descended into the mines and seized the minister. The rector was burnt at Altsol, August 22; but the pastor was taken to a greater distance, near the Castle of Dobrony. His keepers having halted near this building, in the midst of grand and solemn scenery, the priests called upon their prisoner to forswear his faith. Nicolaï—this was the name of the Hungarian martyr—remaining unmoved, was killed with a sabre-stroke and his body was thrown into the flames.^[549]

While these things were taking place under the sceptre of Zapolya, his rival Ferdinand issued at Buda, August 20, 1527, an edict for persecution.^[550] Imprisonment, banishment, confiscation, death by drowning, sword, or fire, were decreed against heretics, and any town which did not execute this royal ordinance was to be deprived of all its privileges.^[551]

A sky loaded with clouds foreboded to Hungary days of suffering, of blood, and of mourning.

The triumph of the Reformation in Hungary was to be slow and difficult, or rather it was never to be complete. The two kings, who after the death of Louis II. shared the kingdom between them, fancied as we have seen, that they should ensure victory to themselves by giving up the Reformation to the Roman clergy. But the only result of persecution was to advance reform. Many of the evangelical Christians at this time quitted Hungary to go to Wittenberg. ‘A great number of Hungarians,’ said Luther on May 7, 1528, ‘are arriving here from all quarters, expelled from Ferdinand’s dominions; and as Christ was poor, they imitate Him in His humble poverty.’^[552] The reformer welcomed, consoled, instructed, and strengthened them. ‘If Satan employs cruelty,’ he said to one of them, ‘he acts his own part; Scripture everywhere teaches us that this is what we are to expect from him. But for thee, be a brave man, pray and fight in the spirit and the word, against him.^[553] He who reigns in us is mighty.’ Luther even called to him the Christians of Hungary. He wrote to Leonard Beier, who was in the states of Ferdinand—‘If thou art expelled come hither. We offer thee hospitality and all that Christ gives us.’ The reformer’s charity won hearts to the Reformation. These men, on their return to their own land, became so many missionaries.

367Not long after this there appeared at Wittenberg a man who was to be one of the greatest Hungarian reformers. One day, in 1529, Luther was visited by a young man who so completely won his heart that he admitted him into his house and to his table; and, during his stay at Wittenberg, the young Magyar had the privilege of listening to the pious discourses and the witty talk of the great doctor. This student was born at Deva in Transylvania, near the banks of the river Maros, in the waters of which gold is found. The town stands on the road to Temeswar, which passes by the defiles of the mountains and the Iron Gates, at a short distance from the ruins of Sarmizegethusa, the capital of the ancient Dacians, on the site of which the Romans afterwards erected Ulpia Trajana. Here Mathias Biro Devay was born, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, of a noble family. It is supposed that he was one of the disciples of Grynaeus at Buda. In 1523 he went to the university of Cracow, where he matriculated at the same time as his friend Martin of Kalmance. He remained there about two years, and was known as a sincere Roman Catholic.

Devay returned from Cracow towards the close of 1525, and having become priest and monk he showed himself a zealous friend of the pope. He who was to beat down the idol was at this time on his knees before it. It appears to have been in the second half of the year 1527 and the first half of the year 1528 that his mind was enlightened by the Gospel. He embraced the faith in Christ the Saviour with all the frankness and energy of his nature. The catholics, who had known his devotion to the doctrine of Rome, were in consternation. ‘He has been a Roman priest!’ they said, ‘and a man most devoted to our Catholic faith!’ Devay felt the need of getting established in the evangelical doctrine and of qualifying himself to defend it. He therefore went to Wittenburg, and on December 3, 1529, matriculated there.

368While Devay was in Saxony, the Reformation was making great progress in Hungary. The two kings had expected to destroy it, but an invisible power, greater than that of courts, was widely extending it; and that old saying in the Gospel was fulfilled—My strength is made perfect in weakness. A powerful magnate, Peter Perenyi, who had embraced the Gospel a year before, had declared with his sons Francis, George, and Gabriel for the doctrine of Luther. The son of Emerick, the former palatine of Hungary, he had just been made vayvode of Transylvania, and he possessed numerous castles in the northern part of the kingdom. It was at the court of Queen Mary, in the time of King Louis, that he had been enlightened, by means of the frequent conversations which he had held with the ministers Kopaczy and Szeray. Not content with allowing the evangelical doctrine to spread in his demesnes, he exerted himself personally to provide pious pastors for the people. Other magnates also, particularly Laelany, Massaly, and Caspar Dragfi, had been converted to Protestantism by the teachings of the ministers Osztoraï and Derezki. Dragfi’s father was in his day vayvode of Transylvania; and King Ladislaus had honored his nuptials with his presence. The son, now a young man of two-and-twenty, sent for evangelical divines to his estates; and Ovar, Isengen, Erdoeil and numerous villages were reformed by their preaching. It was to no purpose that the bishops threatened this young and decided Christian; he cared nothing about it, but gave his protection to all those who were persecuted for the faith. Some women likewise promoted the extension of the Reformation. The widow of Peter Jarit, a venerated woman who had the most ardent love for the Gospel, maintained preachers on her vast estates, so that all the country which lay between the rivers Maros and Koeroes was brought through her influence to the profession of the faith. The palatine

Thomas Nadasdy, Francis Revay, Bebek, the Podmanitzkys, 369Zobor, Balassa, Batory, Pongratz, Illeshazy, Eszterhazy, Zriny, Nyary, Batthyani, the counts of Salm and Hommona, with many other nobles and magnates, heard the Word of God as the sovereign voice of the Church. The townsmen did the same, and the greater number of the towns embraced the Reformation.^[554]

The report of all these conversions reached the courts of the two princes who were at this time disputing the crown. They thought they had better spare men of whose support they were ambitious. Persecution therefore slackened, and the transformation of the Church profited thereby. Liberty and truth made conspicuous progress. At Bartfeld, Doctor Esaias preached against Romish traditions, called his hearers to Jesus Christ, and stirred the whole town. At Leutschau, two evangelists, Cyriaci and Bogner, returning from Wittenberg, proclaimed the word of salvation; and the ultramontane churches, in spite of their incense, their images, and their pompous ceremonial, were day by day being deserted. At Hermanstadt the inhabitants, regardless of the outcries against them raised by the priests and their adherents, quickly adopted measures for positively abolishing the Roman services.

The court of Rome, more and more perplexed, was intriguing at Vienna with a view to winning over Ferdinand. The pope wrote to the celebrated general Francisco Frangipani, who had been enrolled as a member of the order of St. Francis of Assisi, and was on this account under especial obligation to obey the pontiff. He entreated him to support with all his might the Catholic religion now so gravely threatened. The monks of Hermanstadt, provoked at seeing that the cruel decree of Ferdinand remained unexecuted, strove to stir up the people against their adversaries; and there were frequent disturbances. The magistrate would have consented 370that every one should be free to serve God according to his conscience; but persecution on the part of the monks appeared to be a rooted and incorrigible necessity. The council, despairing of enlightening them, ordered them (February 8, 1529) upon pain of death to leave the town within the space of eight days, unless they chose to live in conformity with the Gospel. This order was variously received by the monks. Some of them put off their cowls, dressed themselves like honest citizens, and began to earn their bread. Others left the town. Three days later there was not to be found in Hermanstadt a single Roman Catholic.^[555] Some people cried out that freedom was trampled under foot by the council of Hermanstadt; others remarked that by the course it had taken it suppressed culpable intrigues.

Liberty is a power which occasionally passes through very strange phases, and of which history presents some singular features. This was the case at this period in Hungary. The two rival kings, Ferdinand and Zapolya, were supported by two powerful emperors, the one eastern, the other western, Solyman and Charles the Fifth. This twofold movement at once endangered and favored religious liberty in Hungary. In 1529 Ferdinand went to Spire, where the emperor Charles the Fifth had convoked the Diet; and, submissive to the dictation of his august brother, annulled there the edict which he had published in 1526 in favor of religious liberty.^[556]

But while the Austrian king was thus confirmed in intolerance by the influence of Catholic Europe, the Hungarian king took a lesson of liberty from the Mussulman emperor. Solyman was once more marching into Hungary at the head of a hundred and fifty thousand men; 371and halting on the famous battle-field of Mohacz, he there received Zapolya, who had come to offer him homage. He took Buda on August 14, delivered the evangelical commander-in-chief, Nadasdy, whom his troops with infamous treachery had cast into a cave, and then marched on Gran, whose bishop, escorted by eight hundred nobles on horseback and as many on foot, came to meet him, and kissed his hand. Next, after presenting himself before Vienna, the Grand Sultan returned to Buda, and there confirmed Zapolya as king of Hungary. Although he was not a great admirer of freedom of conscience, he pronounced against the oppression of the Protestants, either because the Romish religion was that of the emperor his enemy, or because the worship of images, which was one of the most conspicuous parts of the Catholic religion, was impious in his eyes. The Gospel of Christ enjoyed greater freedom at Constantinople than at Rome.

In the great year 1530, the Hungarian reformation received a fresh impulse. The faithfulness and joy with which the Protestant princes confessed the truth at Augsburg (June 25), in the presence of the emperor, of King Ferdinand, and of several Hungarian lords—Nicholas Duranz, Wolfgang Frangepertpan, Francis Ujlaky, and others—dispelled in any prejudices. These noblemen on their return gave favorable accounts of what they had seen and heard; and all who understood Latin or German—and these were very numerous in Hungary—could read the admirable Confession, which made many hearts beat high. From this time the disciples of Christ who were desirous of diffusing His light increased in number. The glorious instrument of Augsburg was like a bell, the tones of which, far resounding, brought to Wittenburg, and thus to the Gospel, a great number of students and even of learned men, who desired to become acquainted, in the very seat of the movements, with the great transformation which was taking place in Christendom, and 372to draw with their own hands at the fountain of living waters.

In the year which followed the Confession, in the spring of 1531, Devay returned to Hungary. He felt himself impelled to publish in his native land the great facts and the great doctrines of redemption, proclaimed at Augsburg by the princes and the free towns of Germany. He had attentively followed all the scenes of this great Christian drama; he attached himself at the same time with sympathy to the teaching of Melanchthon, whose mildness, prudence, and knowledge, and whose anxieties even, filled him with affection and admiration. It was not till later that the illustrious friend of Luther showed his leaning to a spiritual interpretation to the Lord’s Supper; but the germ was already there. Devay and other Hungarians followed this tendency with hearty interest. Some reformers have perhaps been inconsistent; their doctrine has not been in all points in harmony with the principles which they professed. Devay and others went the whole length; they walked straight along the road. Devay was a complete divine. He made progress. He did not stop at a few beautiful figures in the picture, at a few grand portions of the building; he saw the whole and embraced it. He recognized with Melanchthon the spirituality of the Supper, and with Luther the sovereignty of grace. Or, it would perhaps be more historical and more logical to say that with Calvin he believed both; a complete man par excellence, at least as far as man can be so. Further, he was not a mere recluse, complete only on his own account; he was a teacher. With a strong desire to know the truth, he combined a steadfast, determined character. He feared nothing, he hoped nothing from men; his hope and his fear were in God. He thought, as Pascal afterwards did, that the fear of men was bad policy. There was no faltering in him, he did not waver as some did, but went on with an intrepid heart and a confident step. There are some divines who venture only to present the 373truth by degrees, and this the human understanding frequently requires. The very light of the sun goes on increasing from dawn to midday. But the Hungarian reformer proclaimed at the outset the whole evangelical truth, with a frank heart, completely and boldly. He demanded an entire transformation of the life, a complete reformation of the church; and he extolled the greatness and the certainty of the salvation of which he was the herald. Distinguished for his theological attainments, he was equally so for his decision of character and his courage.

Devay, highly appreciated and recommended, was settled in the capital of Hungary. As pastor at Buda, which is united by a bridge to Pesth, so that the two cities are virtually but one, he put forth all his energy in diffusing there the principles of the Reformation by his discourses, his writings, and his deeds. As the saints played an important part in the religion of the country, he showed in one of his works the nothingness of their invocation.^[557] He composed fifty-two theses in which, after confuting his opponents, he set forth clearly the essence of a real Christian reformation, or, as he used to say, the rudiments of salvation.^[558] Unfortunately he had not at this time a printing-press at his service, Hungary being much behindhand in this respect. He therefore made numerous copies of his writings, as used to be done before Gutenberg’s invention. At the same time he preached with power. He appeared wherever he saw that any conquest was to be made. At his word many turned to the Gospel, and among them some eminent men.

Devay was not alone in his endeavors to spread Christian life in the Hungarian Church. Anthony Transylvanus was preaching the Gospel at Kaschau and in the 374surrounding districts, Basil Radan at Debreczin, Andrew Fischer and Bartholomew Bogner at Zipsen, Michael Siklosy and Stephen Kopacsy in the comitat of Zemplin. Leonard Stoeckel and Lawrence Quendel, who had studied at Wittenberg at the same time as Devay, soon propagated the evangelical faith in other places. The Reformation was thus quite peacefully, without great struggles or great show, making the conquest of Hungary. The Gospel was not spreading there with the roar of torrents, as it did in the places where Luther, Farel, and Knox spoke; but its waters flowed smoothly. They did not fall rushing and foaming from the mountains, but they came forth imperceptibly from the ground. It was a conquest without clash of cymbals and trumpets, made by brave scouts. Reform often began with men of the lower ranks. Some humble evangelist would proclaim in a small town the words of eternal life, and many hearts joyfully received them.

There were exceptions, however, to the calm of which we speak, and the life of the greatest reformer of these lands presents to us tragical situations such as abound in the history of the Reformation.

Devay did not remain long at Buda. He was called to Cassovia (Kaschau) in Upper Hungary, then under the rule of Ferdinand, from which place he was able to bear the heavenly doctrine to the banks of the Hernath and the Tchenerl, into the whole comitat of Abaujvar, to Eperies on the north, and to Ujhely on the east. Everywhere he labored zealously. Ere long the inhabitants attached themselves with all their heart not only to him, but to the Word of God. The nobles of one of the market towns of the comitat of Zemplin, impressed by his powerful discourses, left the Romish Church and received with faith the divine promises. The inhabitants of several villages of the neighborhood were gained over by this example. These numerous conversions excited the wrath of the Roman clergy, and on all sides the priests 375called for the removal of a man so dangerous as Devay. Thomas Szalahazy, bishop of Eger (Erlau), denounced him to King Ferdinand. Agents of this prince made their way secretly to the places where the simple but powerful reformer might be found, and they seized and carried him off. A deed so daring could not be concealed. The report of it spread among the inhabitants of the town of Cassovia, and the people, who were warmly attached to the reformer, rose in revolt. But all was useless. The tools of the bishop dragged Devay into the mountains of the comitat of Liptau; but even there they did not think him safe enough. They feared the mountains, the forests, the defiles; they could not dispense with prisons, keepers, and thick walls. They conducted Devay, therefore, to Presburg, and thence to Vienna; and here he was very rigorously treated. Put in chains, supplied with scanty nourishment, subjected to all kinds of privations, he suffered cruelly in body, and his soul was often overwhelmed with sorrow. He wondered whether he was ever to escape from those gloomy walls. He sought after God from the depth of his soul, knowing that He is the only deliverer. At a later time he frequently used to speak of all the bodily and mental sufferings which he had undergone in the prison of Vienna.

John Faber, bishop of the diocese, a learned man and of superior abilities, had at first taken much interest in Luther’s writings; but he found the diet a little too strong for the weak stomachs of the people. In 1521, being over head and ears in debt, and having nothing to pay, he betook himself to Rome to escape from his creditors and to claim help of the pope; and in order to make himself agreeable he composed a work against the great reformer. Rome transformed Faber, and, on his return to Germany, he began to contend against the Reformation, without, however, being entirely proof against the Christian words of Luther. In 1528 he tried to gain over Melanchthon, offering him as the price of apostasy 376a situation under King Ferdinand.^[559] The same year he contributed to the erection of the stake at which Hubmeyer was burnt. Faber had been provost of Buda, and in 1530 he was named bishop of Vienna. He cited Devay to appear before him. The bishop was surrounded by many ecclesiastics, and a secretary or notary seated before a table took down every thing in writing. The Hungarian reformer did not allow himself to be intimidated by his judges, nor weakened by a wish to put an end to his sufferings. He spoke not only as a cultivated and learned man, but still more as a Christian full of decision and courage. He set forth unreservedly evangelical truth. ‘You are accused,’ said Faber, ‘of asserting that after the words have been uttered—This is my body, this is my blood—the substance of the bread and the wine still exists.’ ‘I have explained in the clearest way,’ replied Devay, ‘the real nature of the sacraments, their character and their use. They are signs of grace and of the good-will of God towards us; thus they console us in our trials; they confirm, establish, and make certain our faith in God’s promise. The office of the Word of God and of the sacraments is one and the same. The latter are not mere empty and barren signs; they truly and really procure the grace which they signify, but, nevertheless, are beneficial only to those who receive them in faith, spiritually and sacramentally.’^[560] It is clear that the spiritual element predominated in the theology of Devay, and that he was already almost of the same opinion as the theologians of reformed Switzerland. He set forth his whole belief with piety so manifest that the court did not feel authorized to condemn him. He was therefore set at liberty.^[561]

377Devay now went to Buda, where he had first exercised his ministry, and which was now subject to John Zapolya, the rival of Ferdinand of Austria. Zapolya, a capricious and despotic prince, was at this time in a very ill humor.^[562] He had a favorite horse, which the smith from unskilfulness had pricked to the quick while shoeing it. The king, in a fit of rage, had ordered the smith to be cast into prison, and had sworn that if the animal died of the injury, the man who had pricked it should die too. Hearing that the preacher who was branded by the priests as a great heretic had arrived in his capital, his splenetic humor immediately vented itself on him. Theologian or shoeing-smith, it was all one to him, when once he was displeased. Devay was seized and confined in the same prison with the artisan. Thus the reformer escaped from a gulf only to be dashed against a rock; he fell from Charybdis upon Scylla. He was in expectation of death, but he had a good conscience; and, his zeal increasing in the prospect of eternity, he ardently desired to win some souls to God before appearing in His presence. He therefore entered into conversation with his unfortunate companion in captivity; and finding him melancholy and alarmed, he did what Paul had done in the prison at Philippi for the jailer trembling at the earthquake—he besought him to receive Jesus Christ as his Saviour, assuring him that this alone sufficed to give him eternal life. The smith believed, and great peace took the place of the distress which overwhelmed him. This was a great joy for the faithful evangelist. The horse got well, and the king, appeased, gave orders for the release of his smith from prison. When the jailer came to bring this news to the man, the latter, to the great surprise of his keeper, refused the favor which was offered him. ‘I am a partaker,’ said he, ‘in the faith for which my companion is to die. I will die with him.’ This noble speech was reported to Zapolya, who, although capricious, was still 378a feeling man: and he was so much affected that he commanded both the prisoners to be set at liberty. This second imprisonment of Devay lasted till 1534.

Devay went out of the prison weakened and broken down, but ever pious and anxious to consecrate his days to the service of Him who is the truth and the life. A Hungarian magnate, the Count Nadasdy, a rich and learned man, who openly and actively protected the Reformation, and who had at great expense founded a school with a view to promote the cultivation of literature,^[563] one of the Maecenases of the sixteenth century, thought that the reformer, after his trials and his two harsh imprisonments, stood in need of repose and quiet occupation rather than a hand-to-hand fight with his adversaries. In his castle of Sarvar, Nadasdy had a very fine library. He invited Devay to take up his abode there, and to turn to account the studies in which he might engage for the propagation of evangelical knowledge. The reformer accepted this noble hospitality; and Sarvar became for him what the house of Du Tillet at Angoulême had been to Calvin, after his escape from the criminal lieutenant of Paris, and what the Wartburg had been to Luther. There was, however, this difference, that Devay had already endured several years of rigorous confinement, which was not the case with either Luther or Calvin. He set to work immediately, and studied and composed several polemical pieces. He had escaped from soldiers and jailers only to contend with adversaries of another kind.

The whole life of an evangelist is one continual struggle; and what more glorious conflict is there than that of truth with error? A champion worthy of Rome appeared to reply to Devay. Gregory Szegedy, doctor of the Sorbonne, and provincial of the Franciscan order in Hungary, 379having become acquainted with the first manuscript works of Devay, had declared that he undertook to refute them. He kept his word, and published at Vienna a treatise in which he controverted the theses on the rudiments of salvation.^[564] This was the first work published by a Hungarian against the Reformation. Devay applied himself to the task of answering it, and his work was finished in the course of 1536.

During this period, towns, boroughs, entire parishes, and even some members of the higher clergy embraced the evangelical doctrine. But at the same time Szalahazy, bishop of Eger, caused Anthony, pastor of Eperies, and Bartholomew, chaplain to the chapter, to be thrown into prison; and King Ferdinand commanded the evangelical church of Bartfeld to abolish all innovations, upon pain of confiscation and of death.^[565]

Meanwhile Devay’s writings remained in manuscript, and he was considering where he should get them printed. Szegedy had published his at Vienna, but Devay had no inclination to return thither. He determined to go in search of a publisher into Saxony, and set out at the end of 1536. At Nürnberg he fell ill, and was there attended by Dietrich Veit, a former friend of his at Wittenberg, whom Melanchthon used to call suus summus amicus. After his recovery he arrived at Wittenberg, and there sojourned, as far as appears, in the house of Melanchthon,^[566] from the month of April to the month of October, 1537. These two men became intimate friends; they were like brothers. ‘How pleasant his society is to me,’ said Luther’s friend when speaking of Devay; ‘how excellent is his faith, and how much prudence, knowledge, and piety he has!’ He was not the only Hungarian who 380was attached to Master Philip. As the majority of the Hungarians who came to Wittenburg were unacquainted with German, Melanchthon preached for them in Latin,^[567] which made them more familiar with the mode of thought of this divine. Moreover, even before the first return of Devay to Hungary, the doctrine of Zwinglius was known and embraced there. As early as 1530, Luther complained that this was the case with one of the pastors of Hermanstadt. Nevertheless, Devay was also on brotherly terms not only with Luther but with all evangelical men. He related to them the progress of the Reformation in Hungary; he sought after every thing that might make him more competent to promote it; and he found by experience how much fellowship with those who believe strengthens the heart and enables a man to fight valiantly.

Devay did not print his manuscript at Wittenberg nor in any other town in Germany. Did he find any difficulty in doing so? We do not know.

When the time was come for him to depart, he begged his host to write to his patron Count Nadasdy. A letter from the teacher of Germany could not fail to be greatly valued by the Hungarian magnate. Melanchthon wrote a letter, and entreated the count to do all in his power that the churches might be taught with more purity; and, anxious to see teaching and literature protected by influential men, he said, ‘In former times the Greeks associated Hercules with the Muses and called him their chief.^[568] Every one knows that you Pannonians (Hungarians) are the descendants of Hercules. On this ground the protection of such studies ought to be in the eyes of Your Highness a domestic and national virtue.’ The letter is of the 7th October, and is dated from Leipsic, 381to which place Melanchthon possibly accompanied his friend.

Devay did not go from Wittenberg direct into Hungary, although he was eagerly called for there. He went to Basel. He was attracted to this town of Switzerland partly by the desire to become acquainted with the theologians of the country, partly by the celebrated printers of the town, who published so many evangelical books, and partly also by the presence there of Grynaeus, with whom he had probably corresponded. The manuscripts which he took with him comprised three different works. The first treated ‘of the principal articles of Christian doctrine’; the second, ‘of the state of the souls of the blessed after this life before the day of the last judgment’; and the third, ‘of the examination to which he had been subjected by Faber in the prison.’ The volume appeared in the autumn of 1537, with this inscription—‘Master, at thy word I will let down the net.’^[569] After this publication Devay left Basel.

On arriving in Hungary, he betook himself immediately to the count, to whom he was to deliver the letter of the reformer. John Sylvestre, whom Melanchthon called a real scholar, was at the head of the school of Uj-Sziget, near Sarvar, founded by Nadasdy. This nobleman was a treasure for Hungary. A wealthy man, a pious Christian, he took pleasure in encouraging literature and the arts, and gave rewards and tokens of his esteem to those who cultivated them; but above all he had at heart the advancement of the kingdom of God. He perceived that Devay and Sylvestre were men of the choicest kind, and associated them with himself. They were all three convinced that schools and good books were necessary for the education of the people, for the establishment of the Reformation in Hungary, and for refining the manners and ensuring the prosperity of the country. Devay asked the count for a printing-house, and this request was immediately 382granted. The building was set up by the side of the school, and was the first in Hungary. Devay at once began to compose an elementary book for the study of the Hungarian language (Orthographia ungarica). He took pains to make it useful, not only as a grammar, but also as a means of Christian instruction. He taught in it at the same time the rudiments of the language and those of the Gospel, remembering the word of the Master—Suffer the little children to come unto me. These three Christian men thought that it was essential to begin the work of man’s restoration in his childhood, not merely to assist nature but to transform it and to bring it into that new state of righteousness which is a conflict with the original nature, to the end that Christ may be formed in him. They believed, as M. de Saint-Marthe has said, that children have in them a natural gravity which draws them violently towards evil; that we must therefore be always on the watch lest the enemy enter into their heart as into a deserted place, and do just what he will there. It is also necessary that a faithful guardian should be careful to remove from before their eyes and their feet whatsoever may become to them an occasion of falling. Devay had added to his book some prayers in Hungarian intended for children, for which he had laid under contribution Luther’s smaller catechism. This volume was the first printed in the language of the country. It passed through many editions.

But Devay did not neglect active evangelization. The scene of his labors was especially the demesnes of Nadasdy, and the comitats of Eisenburg, Westprim and Raab, near the frontiers of Austria, between the right bank of the Danube and Lake Balaton (the Plattensee). This apostle used to be met in his journeys along the roads on the shores of Lake Balaton and on the banks of the nine rivers which flow into it. He preached the Gospel in rural dwellings, in castles, and in the open air. He called all those who heard him to come to Christ, 383and declared that the Saviour did not cast away any one who so came. If he met with any who while they believed were still uneasy and disturbed, he did not hesitate to reassure them by announcing to them the election of grace. He told them that if they had come to God it was because he had chosen them, and that the Good Shepherd keeps in his fold to the end the sheep which he has brought there.

While Devay was laboring to the south of the Danube, Upper Hungary was not neglected. Stephen Szantai, an eminent man and an earnest Christian, was at this time preaching there energetically. He was full of faith and a good dialectician, filled with devotion and enthusiasm in the cause of the Lord. The prelates who had formerly imprisoned Devay took in hand to do the same with Szantai. A clerical conspiracy was formed. The bishops George Frater, Statilius and Frangipani, supported by the heads of some of the monastic orders, besought Ferdinand to have the evangelist seized and put to death. Statilius, bishop of Stuhlweissenburg, near the vast forest of Bakonye, enjoyed the reputation of a master in the art of persecution. A little while before, he had ordered the arrest of an evangelical minister, had caused him to be beaten with rods, and, when the men charged with this service had presented the victim half-dead, the infamous prelate had thrown him to the dogs to despatch him. Frangipani, formerly a military man, had indeed laid down the sword and put on the frock; but he had retained a soldier’s manners, and held it a maxim that business and men must be disposed of swiftly, and without delicate considerations. He governed his servants with pride and harshness, and, as it is said, gave his commands with a rod. This was the man who took upon himself to obtain from the king the death of Szantai. He had no doubt that the king would let himself be guided like his servants. But certain very remarkable changes had been wrought in Ferdinand’s mind. The Confession 384of Augsburg had given him a less unfavorable impression of Luther’s doctrine. His confessor, who was a Spaniard, when on his death-bed, had acknowledged to him that he had not led him in the right way, and that Luther had hitherto taught nothing but the truth. It appears that the children of Joanna of Castile all resembled their mother in having some regard for the truth, while they resembled their grandmother, the illustrious Isabella, in submission to priests. King Ferdinand was therefore now less hostile to the reformers. Nevertheless, he was far from decided, and Rome had not lost in his case the influence which she knew how to exercise over princes. He had nothing more than passing gleams of light, which the clergy called caprices; he sometimes wavered, but always returned to the pope’s side. He was looked upon sometimes as a friend to the Protestants, and sometimes as their enemy.

However this might be, Ferdinand did not yield this time to the demand of the priests; but he appointed (1538) a religious conference to be held at Schässburg between the priests and Szantai. The perplexity of the bishops equalled their astonishment. Not only did the king refuse to condemn Stephen without a hearing, but he commanded them to enter into discussion with him. Sensible of their incompetence, they were not at all concerned about it, and began to look for a good Roman Catholic who should be able to cope with the man they called the heretic.

There was among the Franciscans a monk celebrated for his exploits in theological strife, one Father Gregory. He was now summoned to Schässburg, and went thither accompanied by other monks. For umpires Ferdinand selected Dr. Adrian, episcopal vicar of Stuhlweissenburg, and Martin de Kalmance, rector of the school of the same place. These men, in the king’s opinion, could not but be, considering their personal character, impartial judges; and he said to them, ‘I exhort you to conduct 385the whole affair in such a way that the truth may in no respect suffer.’^[570]

The disputation began. Roman Catholics and Protestants had come together from all quarters. Stephen Szantai set forth the evangelical doctrine, and supported it with solid proofs. The clever Franciscan was unable to confute them; and the monks seeing this supplied by outcries and a great disturbance the place of the arguments which were lacking on the part of their colleague. A layman, John Rehenz, a learned doctor of medicine, indignant at this strange method of argument, sharply rebuked the monks and censured them for the uproar as a stratagem unbecoming a discussion so grave; and taking up the replies which Gregory had made, he showed their worthlessness. Szantai spoke again in his turn, and left on his hearers a deep impression that the cause which he was defending was that of the truth. The disputation lasted several days longer, during which the doctrine of the Reformation instead of losing gained ground.

The discussion being finished, Adrian and de Kalmance had to pronounce judgment. For this purpose they went to the king. They were seriously embarrassed, and without being undecided were in a great difficulty. ‘Sire,’ they said, ‘all that Szantai has maintained is founded on the Holy Scripture, and he has demonstrated the truth of it; but the monks have uttered only words without meaning. Nevertheless, if we publicly assert this, we shall be everywhere decried as enemies of religion, and then we are ruined. If on the other hand we should condemn Szantai, we should be acting against our own consciences, and we could not escape the judgment of God. For this reason we entreat Your Majesty to devise some plan which will furnish us a way of escape from 386this twofold danger.’ The king understood the difficulty of their position and promised to do all that he could for them.

This was in the morning. Ferdinand was almost as much embarrassed as the two judges. In vain he reflected on this difficult case; he found no solution. He acknowledged that the Protestants had a right to be protected in their religious liberty; and he felt that it was dangerous to exasperate so considerable a number of his subjects. But what would Rome and the clergy say if he granted an amnesty to Szantai?

About three o’clock in the afternoon, word was brought to him that several bishops, prelates, and monks desired to speak to him. Disquieted by their defeat, they wished to put pressure upon the mind of the prince. ‘Sire,’ said the bishop of Grosswardin, ‘we are the shepherds of the Church, and we are bound to take care of our flock. For this reason we have demanded that this heretic should be seized and condemned, in order that those who are like him, alarmed by his example, may cease to speak and to write against the Roman doctrine. But Your Majesty has done the very reverse of that which we asked; you have granted a religious conference to this wretched man, who has thus had an opportunity of inducing many to take his poison. Assuredly the Holy Father will not be pleased with this. There is no need of a discussion. The Church has long since condemned these brigands of heretics, and their sentence is written on their foreheads.’

Ferdinand replied—‘Not one man shall perish, unless he be convicted of a crime worthy of death.’ ‘What!’ said Bishop Statilius, ‘is it not enough that he gives the cup to laymen, while Christ instituted it only for priests, and that he calls the holy mass an invention of the devil? Assertions such as these deserve death.’ ‘Do you think, bishop,’ said the king, ‘that the Greek Church is a true Church?’ ‘I do, sire.’ ‘Well, then,’ replied Ferdinand, ‘the Greeks receive the supper in both kinds, as they were 387taught by the holy bishops Chrysostom, Cyril, and others. Why should we not do the same? They have not the mass, we therefore can dispense with it.’ The bishops held their peace. ‘I do not take the part of Szantai,’ added the prince, ‘but I wish the cause to be examined; a king must not punish an innocent man.’ ‘If Your Majesty does not support us,’ said the bishop of Grosswardin, ‘we will seek for some other means of getting rid of this vulture.’

The bishops withdrew, but Ferdinand had about him men as passionate as they were, who were bent on the destruction of the reformer. At nine o’clock in the evening of the same day, the king, in a state of distress and suspense, was conversing on these matters with two of his magnates, Francis Banfy and John Kassai, when the burgomaster of Kaschau requested an audience of him, and entered his presence followed by Szantai. The king immediately addressing the reformer said—‘What then do you preach?’ ‘Most gracious prince,’ replied the minister, ‘it is no new doctrine. It is that of the prophets, of the apostles, and of our Lord Jesus Christ; and whosoever desires the salvation of his soul ought to embrace it with joy.’ The king was silent for some seconds; and then, no longer able to refrain, he exclaimed—‘O, my dear Stephen, if we follow this doctrine, I am very much afraid that some great evil will befall both thee and me. Let us refer the cause to God; He will make it turn to good. But tarry not, my friend, in my states. The magnates would deliver thee to death, and if I attempted to defend thee, I should be myself exposed to many dangers. Go, sell what thou hast, and depart into Transylvania, where thou canst freely profess thy doctrine.’ The weak Ferdinand half yielded to the fanaticism of the priests. He saw what was good and durst not do it. He made a present to Szantai, towards the expenses of his journey; and then he said to the burgomaster of Kaschau and another evangelical Christian, Christopher Deswœs, 388who accompanied him—‘Take him away secretly by night, conduct him to his own people, and protect him from all danger.’ The three friends departed, and Ferdinand was left alone, disturbed and unstable in all his ways.

CHAPTER IV.
PROGRESS OF EVANGELIZATION AND OF THE SWISS REFORMATION IN HUNGARY.
(1538-1545.)

The conference of Schässburg and the deliverance of Szantai, which put an end to persecution in the countries subject to Ferdinand, had results still more marked in the states of Zapolya. The impression produced by these events was so powerful that many parishes and towns declared for reform. The manner of its accomplishment in Hungary was characteristic. It advanced, as we have said, by an almost imperceptible progress. The pastors gradually came to preach in a manner more conformed to the Gospel. Without attracting notice they changed the rites and usages, and their parishes followed them. In some instances indeed, the flocks took the first steps forward; but usually they waited patiently for the death of their old Catholic priest, and then chose in his stead an evangelical minister. There were no violent revolutions, no angry schisms. Parishes embraced en masse the evangelical confession, and kept their churches, their schools, their parsonages, and their property. The love of order and of peace was carried perhaps a little too far. The Lutheran pastors maintained their accustomed relations with the Catholic bishops. They paid them the dues as before, and were protected by them in their rights and liberties, provided only that they did not pass into the ranks of the Zwinglians or the Calvinists. 389It was an age of gold, says a Hungarian historian. It seems to us that it was rather an age in which, as in Daniel’s statue, a strange mixture was seen of gold, silver, iron, brass, and clay.^[571]

This mention of the Zwinglians is remarkable. It reveals to us, if we may use the phrase, the reverse of the medal, the dark side of the picture. If evangelical truth was advancing in Hungary, there were nevertheless troubles and divisions of various kinds. The doctrines of Zwinglius had early penetrated into the country. Ferdinand had mentioned them at the same time as the Lutheran doctrines, in his edict of persecution of 1527. They were therefore at that time spread abroad, and numbered amongst their adherents some persons of the higher classes. In 1532, Peter Perenyi, first count (supremus comes) of the comitat of Abaujvar, had the first church for the disciples of Zwinglius built at Patak, between Tokay and Ujhely. This state of things, in accordance with the principles of religious liberty, and consequently just, had nevertheless injurious effects. The conflicting views of Luther and Zwinglius on the Lord’s Supper disquieted some persons, and most of all those who most ardently sought after the truth. One of these was Francis Reva, count of Thurotz, a Hungarian noble of highly cultivated mind, who attentively studied the theology of the Scriptures, and had accepted the Lutheran way of regarding the Lord’s Supper. The writings of Zwinglius unsettled him. Being no longer at peace but suffering much anxiety as to what he ought to believe, Reva determined to write to Luther. He laid open to him his doubts in a long letter and implored him to dispel them. Luther, very much engaged at the time, replied briefly. He exhorted him to continue steadfast in the faith as he had received it, urged him to remember the omnipotence of God in order to put an end to his doubts about the mystery of the Supper, and added—‘Not 390a single article of faith would be left to us, if we were to submit every thing to the judgment of our own reason.’^[572]

Divisions of another kind, which were to have far graver consequences for the public peace, afflicted Hungary. Members of the same community, sons of the same soil, the Hungarians found themselves divided into two hostile parties, by the ambition of the two kings who had shared the kingdom between them. Colloquies had been frequently held with a view to put an end to this state of things, but the rival princes had looked on them with no friendly eyes. At length an assembly which was held at Kenesche on Lake Balaton agreed to a plan intended to bind up the wounds of the common country. Men’s feelings were soothed, and the two kings concluded an agreement at Grosswardin, in pursuance of which each of them was to retain his titles and possessions; but after the death of Zapolya the whole of Hungary was to be reunited under the sceptre of Ferdinand, even if his rival left an heir. This took place in 1538, and at that time Zapolya had neither wife nor children. Was this a subject of regret with him? Had he a desire to perpetuate in his own family the sceptre of a portion of Hungary? However this might be, he married in 1539 Isabella, daughter of the king of Poland; and in 1541, as he lay seriously ill and on his death-bed, word was brought to him that he had a son. Delighted at the news, he sent for the bishop of Grosswardin, George Martinuzzi, a Dalmatian who was at once warrior, monk, diplomatist, and prelate, Peter Petrovich, and Joeroek de Enged. The bishop, perceiving the secret wishes of the prince, encouraged him to violate the agreement made with Ferdinand. Zapolya named these three persons guardians 391of his son, and added—‘Take care not to give up my states to Ferdinand,’ a formidable legacy for the new-born child. The Queen Isabella seized upon some pretext for breaking the compact, had her son John Sigismund proclaimed king of Hungary, and feeling herself incapable of resisting the power of Ferdinand placed herself with the young prince under the protection of the Sultan. Thus was fidelity, the faith of treaties and of oaths, trampled under foot by the ambition of this new dynasty. Its dishonesty was plain.^[573]

This step, as must have been expected, was the signal for great disasters. The Turkish army which was to secure the crown to the son of Zapolya advanced into Hungary in such force that Ferdinand could not resist it. The land was now plunged in distress; evangelical religion had to suffer much; it saw its most useful institutions and its most venerated supports taken away. The school and the printing-house established by Count Nadasdy at Uj-Sziget were destroyed. Devay and his friends were compelled to fly precipitately, and many of them took refuge at Wittenberg. Devay was in great affliction. He had continually present to his mind the barbarity of the Mussulmans, carrying fire everywhere and shedding the blood of his fellow-citizens and his friends. The destruction of the modest institutions which he had founded and from which he anticipated so much good for his country broke his heart. Even the imprisonment which he had undergone at Vienna and in Hungary had caused him less grief, for the Mussulman plague was not then ravaging his native land. An exile, distressed and in deep destitution, he could see no way opening before him by which he might be permitted to re-enter the sphere of activity which was so dear to him. He poured out his sorrow into the bosom of his friend Melanchthon, who felt himself the most lively interest in the great misfortunes of the Magyars. A thought occurred to 392these two friends. The margrave George of Brandenburg had been one of the guardians and governors of the young king of Hungary, Louis II., who fell at Mohacz. He had remained a friend to the Hungarians; he possessed estates in the country, and favored there the extension of the Reformation. Devay and Melanchthon considered whether he would not be the man to reopen for Devay the door of his native land. Melanchthon consequently wrote (December 28, 1541) to Sebastian Heller, chancellor to the margrave. ‘There are now with us some Hungarians,’ he said, ‘whom the cruelty of their enemies has driven from their country. Mathias Devay, an honest, grave, and learned man is one of the number. I believe that he is known to your most illustrious prince. On this ground he implores, in these trying times, the assistance and aid of the margrave. I pray you to support the holy cause of the pious and learned exile. He has already been exposed to a great many dangers from his own countrymen on account of his pious preaching.’ It does not appear that the margrave had it in his power to bring about the return of Devay to Hungary; but perhaps he gave him some assistance. Devay, finding that the doors of his country were closed to him set out for Switzerland, which had a special attraction for him, not indeed so much for the beauties of nature which are found there, as for its pious and learned men, and for the simple, scriptural, and spiritual religion which he knew he should meet with at the foot of the Alps.^[574]

Meanwhile, Hungary was in the most lamentable state. Not only was the country full of distress and disorder, but in addition to this a foreign king, who hoisted the crescent on the ancient soil on which the cross had been planted, was master of this heroic people. But we can not help seeing that here was once more realized the truth that God often carries on his work of light and 393peace in the midst of the confusion of states and the dissensions of nations. Gradually the first rage of the followers of Islam abated; and as they really cared very little about the controversies of the Christians, they were inclined to leave them full liberty to maintain their conflicting doctrines. What most of all shocked them in the land which they were treading under foot was the images and the worship offered to them by the adherents of Rome.

Owing to the impartiality of the Mussulmans, the Gospel was propagated from the banks of the Theiss as far as Transylvania and Wallachia, a fact testified by a letter addressed to Melanchthon.^[575] Shortly before the Mussulman invasion, Sylvestre had published at Uj-Sziget his translation of the New Testament, intended for all the people of Hungary. When the first storm was past, this precious book began to circulate amongst the people. Ere long pious Christians endeavored to evangelize the country. Many Hungarians, partly on account of the persecution, partly for the sake of repose from their rude labors, and to console themselves for their sufferings, went to refresh and strengthen themselves at Wittenberg and afterwards returned to fresh conflicts. Wittenberg with Luther and so many other Christians full of lively faith was for these visitors an oasis in the desert. Amongst those who went to take shelter under these cool shades and beside these clear fountains were Stephen Kopaczy, Caspar Heltus, Emeric Ozoraes, Gregory Wisalmann, Benedict Abadius, and Martin de Kalmance (the last four afterwards adhered to the doctrines of Calvin). These were followed by many others. There was a continual going and coming. In proportion as the Mussulman ravages abated and fell off, the Christians took heart again and increased their efforts to rebuild the house of God. Hungary was like an ant-hill, where every one was astir and at work. God had there created sons for Himself, 394who actuated by His Spirit set themselves with unflagging earnestness to do the work of the Lord.^[576]

Even in those districts which, from their nearness to Austria, were more subject to clerical authority, the Gospel was also making progress. For some time the struggle between the two doctrines was very sharp at Raab. The evangelicals in this town were without pastors, and a military prefect well-disposed towards the Reformation gave them one. At Stuhlweissenburg the Roman Catholics beset the justice of the town with their entreaties. ‘Prohibit,’ they said, ‘the preaching of the Gospel and the distribution of the Supper in both kinds, and put in prison the ministers and the communicants.’ The justice, a righteous and God-fearing man, firmly replied—‘In this matter I will obey God rather than men; in all things else I will fulfil my function.’ This man was a soldier who knew the commander whom he must before all obey.^[577]

It was, however, chiefly in Upper Hungary and Transylvania that ruin was impending over the Roman Church. The influence of the conference of Schässburg was still very powerful there. Many of the inhabitants of these countries, hitherto heedless of the work of reformation, and even full of prejudices respecting it, began seriously to reflect on this great spiritual movement which was shaking the nations, and applied themselves to the reading of the ancient Scriptures of God, in which they recognized the active principles of the transformation of which they were witnesses. Whole parishes, carried away by the power of the truth and by the noble example of brave men who sacrificed every thing for the cause of God, declared openly for the Reformation. At Bartfeld, Michael Radaschin had preached the Gospel with so much power that all the force of Rome seemed 395to be destroyed there. In Transylvania many towns followed the example of Hermanstadt. The greater number of the inhabitants of Mediasch and Kronstadt, at the eastern extremity of the country, and of many other cities, declared that they were determined to believe nothing but |John Honter.| what is taught in the Word of God. The principal instrument of God in these districts was John Honter. After studying at Cracow and at Basel, he had returned into his native land, rich in knowledge, strengthened by faith, and inflamed with zeal. He had established there a printing-house, which was the first in Transylvania, as that of Uj-Sziget was the first in Hungary, and had published a multitude of school-books and evangelical books. It was not long before the whole of southern Transylvania, the country of the Saxons, was gained over to the Reformation. Honter himself at a later time published a narrative of these conquests.^[578] The work, however, appears to have been less solidly done in these districts than in others. Transylvania was one of the few countries of the Reformation into which Socinianism penetrated as early as the sixteenth century.

Conquests more solid and more complete were in preparation. Devay, as we said, had gone into Switzerland. He had seen there the best men of the Helvetic Reformation, and had attached himself to the principles which they professed, towards which he had previously been attracted by his intercourse with Melanchthon, by his own study of Holy Scripture, and by his meditations in the prisons of Vienna. It was no longer the rather superficial theory of Zwinglius, but the more spiritual and profound doctrine of Calvin, that he had chiefly been in contact with. When he learnt that the disorders of the Mussulman invasion had come to an end and that it was once more possible to labor in Hungary to win souls to the Gospel, he returned home. He did not make his appearance 396there in any sectarian spirit. Christ crucified, the wisdom of God and the power of God, and a new birth by the operation of the Holy Spirit, always formed the basis of his teaching. But aiming at a close union with Christ he said—Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, ye have no life in you; adding however as the Saviour did—It is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing. At Eperies and other towns in the mountains, there were some Hungarian ministers, disciples of Luther, who were astonished to hear that the man, who like them had for his master the Wittenberg reformer, spoke like Calvin. To these men it gave great pain to see that their fellow-countryman disagreed with the great doctor whom they had so long held in honor. They might, however, have rejoiced at the fact that Devay declared that the flesh of Christ is meat indeed and His blood is drink indeed. The real doctrine of Luther and the real doctrine of Calvin respecting the Lord’s Supper approximate to each other sufficiently for Lutherans to respect that of the Reformed Church, and for the Reformed Church to respect the Confession of Augsburg. Both sides ought to have done this, even had their difference on this point been greater than it really was, since both said—Christ is all in all. But it was the misfortune of that age that many fastened upon a few differences of detail rather than upon the great truths on which they were agreed.

These Hungarian pastors wrote to Luther in the spring of 1544; expressing their surprise that Devay, who had lately been at Wittenberg, professed a doctrine on the Supper different from that which was taught there. Luther’s astonishment on receiving this letter exceeded that of the Hungarians; and his grief was still greater than his surprise. He could not believe what they wrote to him. ‘What!‘^[579] said he, ‘the man who had such a good 397name amongst us!... No, it is too hard to believe what they have written to me. One thing is certain, and that is that he did not receive from us the doctrine of the sacramentarians.^[580]... We have constantly opposed it both in public and in private. There is not with us the slightest appearance of such an abomination.... I have not the faintest suspicion of Master Philip nor of any of the others.’ Henceforth the great and pious Luther, unfortunately somewhat irritable, frequently inveighed against the Devay whom he had so much loved, and loudly complained that he was teaching and practising rites very different from his own.^[581] Luther then forgot the beautiful concord of Wittenberg to which he had been a party.

Devay, on his return from Switzerland, went to Debreczin, not far from the frontier of Transylvania, probably in consequence of a suggestion of Count Nadasdy. This town was a fief of Count Valentine Toeroek de Enying, one of the heroes of Hungary and a great protector of the Reformation. He was a near relation of Count Nadasdy. This magnate settled Devay at Debreczin not only as pastor but also as dean. The noble herald of the Gospel endeavored without delay to fertilize spiritually the waste and barren lands in the midst of which the town was situated. He gave instruction by his preaching, by his writings, many of which however were not printed, and also by his hymns. One of these began with the line—

and it set forth in succession the great and vital doctrines of the Gospel. This hymn was long sung in all parts of 398Hungary. A powerful minister of the Word who had been a fellow-student with him at Cracow was at first his colleague and afterwards his successor. This was Martin de Kalmance. He was distinguished by two characteristics. One of these was that doctrine of grace which is especially set forth by Paul and by Calvin, and which had taken possession of his heart, joined with that spiritual communion with Christ of which the outward communion is the sign, the pledge, and the seal. The other was an animated and captivating eloquence which deeply stirred and carried away the souls of men. While his burning words extolled the eternal compassion of God who saves the sinner by Jesus Christ, it seemed as if all who heard him must fall at the Saviour’s feet to receive from Him the gift of life. Probably not one of the Hungarian reformers had warmer partisans or more implacable enemies. These last were so completely mastered by their hatred that they left traces of it everywhere. Like a hero of the mob, who sticks even upon the walls insulting names, a papist, who happened to be at Cracow, wrote in the matriculation-book of the university, beneath the name of Devay’s colleague, the following words—‘This Kalmance, infected with the spirit of error, has infected with the heresy of the sacramentarians a great part of Hungary.’^[583] He was perpetually pursued by fanaticism. One day, when he was preaching at Beregszasz, a Roman priest, impelled by deadly hate, crept into the church, concealing under his dress a weapon with which he had provided himself, and shot him dead.^[584] This humble minister was thus to meet the tragical end of the illustrious William of Nassau and other great supporters of evangelical doctrine. But this did not take place till some years later, in 1557. This faithful servant 399of God and his companions in arms had first to suffer many other assaults.

The Roman clergy, alarmed to see that the evangelical doctrine was invading Hungary, were determined to unite all the forces at their disposal, and give decisive battle to this enemy. It was on the slopes of the mountains, and particularly in the comitat of Zips, that the most fanatical and enraged priests were found. There also the doctrines of the Word of God had made the most real conquests. Bartfeld, Eperies, and Leutschau, the capital of the comitat of Zips, were towns filled with adherents of the Reformation. In the spring of 1543, all the priests of the comitat met together, and perceiving that all their efforts had been useless, and aware also that they had not strength to conquer by spiritual weapons, they resolved to have recourse to the power of the state. King Ferdinand was at this time at Nürnberg; and they drew up a petition and sent it to him there. They stated that notwithstanding all the pains which they took to maintain religion, his subjects were drawn away after what was worse. ‘For this reason,’ they said, ‘we request of you that no preacher should be settled in any place whatsoever without authorization of the Church. Do not allow any one to bring to your subjects this new gospel, which wherever it goes brings in its train divisions, sects, anger, debate, envy, ignorance, murders, and all the works of the flesh.’ It was just at this time that Charles the Fifth was attempting to conclude peace both with Francis I. and with Solyman, in order to give his undivided attention to the suppression of the Reformation. Ferdinand, whose intentions although more enlightened were not very decided, and who did not think that it was proper for him to act in a different way from his brother, issued (April 12) an ordinance by which he placed at the service of the clergy ‘all secular authority necessary for the upholding of the old and holy Catholic religion, the confession of the Roman faith, and 400the praiseworthy rites and customs which it enjoins.’^[585] But this ordinance remained a dead letter. The king’s moderation was well known in Hungary; and people believed that if he had yielded to the clergy it was, in fact, only an apparent yielding, and that his threats were not to be followed by action. The depositaries of the temporal power, moreover, had no mind to use it in persecuting men who were examples to all. The pro-palatine Francis Reva therefore turned a deaf ear to it. The clergy, astonished and provoked at seeing their petitions and even the orders of the prince without effect, addressed to the king a second petition more pressing than the first. Ferdinand, who was then at Prague, signed (July 1) an order more severe addressed to the pro-palatine—‘I am astonished,’ said he, ‘that you did not strictly discharge your duty towards the heretics and their doctrine. I command you, upon pain of losing my royal favor, to punish every one who separates from the true and ancient Church of God, whatever may be his condition or his rank, and to make use for this purpose of all the penalties adapted to bring back into the sheepfold those who go astray.’^[586] This order of Ferdinand, so far from terrifying the champions of the Gospel, increased their courage and their zeal. In the midst of tribulation they said—‘In all these things, we are more than conquerors through Christ who loved us.’ Even at Leutschau the evangelicals, far from drawing back, determined to go forward. They were still without pastors at the time their adversaries wished to put them to death; and they heroically resolved to appoint one. Ladislaus Poleiner, justice of the town, and founder of the Reformation there, began to seek in all directions after such a man as they wanted. Amongst the young Transylvanians who had 401been converted by the ministry of Honter was one named Bartholomew Bogner, distinguished for his faith, his knowledge, and his zeal. The courageous justice called him to Leutschau, and Bogner immediately applied himself to the work. He did this with the activity of a man whose natural powers are sanctified by the Divine Spirit. His ministry bore rich fruit. Not only did the word of God which he preached give to many a new birth unto eternal life, but after a few years all the ceremonies of the Romish worship were abolished in the very town in which the weapons had been fashioned which were to destroy the Reformation.^[587]

A similar work of regeneration was being accomplished in the south of Hungary, introducing there the Gospel and the spiritual faith of the Swiss divines. A young man, named Stephen Kiss, remarkable from childhood for his discretion and abilities, was born at Szegedin on the Theiss, north of Belgrade, in 1505. He studied at various schools in his own country, and afterwards at Cracow. Having been enlightened by the Gospel, he had come to Wittenberg in 1540, being then thirty-five years of age. Ere long he became not only the disciple and the guest, but also the assistant of Luther and Melanchthon. These two great doctors perceived in him the qualifications of a reformer; a lively piety which led him to seek in every thing the glory of God, a modest seriousness in his manners, his conversation, and his deportment; an accurate acquaintance with the Holy Scriptures, close application to work, remarkable skill in the administration of the Church, and a lively and powerful style in preaching the Gospel.^[588] The Wittenberg reformers, struck with these gifts, were glad to employ him in the important and numerous affairs which they had on their 402hands.^[589] He was usually called Szegedin, after his native town, according to a very common practice of the age.

On his return to his native land, Stephen settled at Jasnyad. Full of remembrances of Wittenberg, and a friend to theological studies, as he saw that the harvest was great but that the laborers were few, he founded in that town, in co-operation with a few friends of the Gospel, a school of theology of which he was the principal professor. He was at the same time both preacher and doctor. In his sermons he showed himself as a man of mind. He did not compose feeble homilies, nor confine himself to diluting his text and uttering pious sentiments. In all that he said there was a solid foundation of truth; in all his teaching there was admirable method, and he set forth the leading thought of his discourses with great clearness.^[590] But at the same time his phrases were vigorous, he struck heavy blows, he roused conscience, he convinced sinners of their faults and their danger, and he so forcibly exhibited the love of God in Jesus Christ, that suffering souls threw themselves by faith into the merciful arms of the Saviour.^[591] It was given to him to present the truth with such persuasive power that it left a deep impression on men’s minds. His contemporaries said that his memory and his discourses would survive for ages.^[592]

Szegedin was not only a great orator, he was also a learned theologian. An indefatigable worker, it was not easy to turn him aside from his studies. Work was to 403him not only a duty but a delight, the very joy of his life. He shut himself up in his study with the Holy Scriptures, read them, sounded their depths, and thoroughly fixed them in his mind. He brought no self-love to the study of them; nor did he even publish his own writings in his lifetime. They were published after his death by two of the most distinguished divines of the sixteenth century, Theodore Beza at Geneva and Grynaeus at Basel; and this fact is undoubtedly a proof of their excellence. He produced analytical works on the prophets David, Isaiah, Daniel, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah; and also on the Gospels of Matthew and John, the Acts, the epistles of Paul, and the Apocalypse. In addition to these expository works, Szegedin wrote some on doctrine, and particularly one entitled ‘Commonplaces of Sacred Theology, concerning God and concerning man.’ This was in imitation of his master Melanchthon. Deeply grieved to see the errors which afflicted his native land, he undertook to contend against them. He pursued them, armed with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; and evangelical Hungary had no braver or more intrepid champion. He chiefly tried his strength with the Unitarians and the Papists. He composed a ‘Treatise on the Holy Trinity against the extravagances (deliramenta) appearing in some districts,’ directing his attacks equally against Arianism and Socinianism. The papal traditions he fought against in his ‘Mirror of the Roman Pontiffs, in which are concisely delineated their decrees opposed to the word of God, their lives and their monstrous excesses.’ There is also another work of his entitled—‘Entertaining Inquiries (Quæstiones jucundæ) concerning the papal traditions.’ His devotion to the truth and the force of his understanding shone out in all these works, and his contemporaries were proud of them. ‘This man,’ they used to say, ‘is indeed a theologian, and what is more, a true witness for Christ; a serious, steadfast, and most energetic defender of orthodox truth in 404countries infested, alas, with Arianism, Mohammedanism, and other sects, to say nothing of the papacy.’^[593]

Szegedin’s intercourse with Melanchthon had prepared him to understand in respect to the Lord’s Supper, that it is the Spirit that quickeneth. He adhered to Calvin’s view. His writings, as we have mentioned, were published by the Swiss theologians; and we find his name inscribed as a member of the Reformed synod of Wardein. He brought over some of his fellow-countrymen to the same conviction. One of these, then very young, bore testimony to it about thirty or forty years later. ‘Szegedin,’ said Michael Paxi in 1575, ‘was the second of those teachers who, when I was still a youth, successfully corrected and completely suppressed in our land erroneous doctrines respecting the Supper.’^[594] The first was undoubtedly Devay. Paxi was mistaken as to the victory of the doctrine taught by Calvin. It was not so complete as he states. A great many divines and faithful men held Luther’s view. It was justifiable indeed for Szegedin and his friends on the one side, and for the Lutherans on the other, to declare themselves decidedly for the doctrine which they esteemed true; but it was not so for them to deny that both deserved the reverence of Christians. The war which was carried on between these two churches was, perhaps, the greatest calamity which befell the Reformation.

The activity of Stephen Szegedin, the decision of his faith, and the vigor with which he attacked the Romish errors drew upon him the hatred of papists and the insults of fanatics. In particular, the bishop, who was guardian of the young son of King Zapolya, was beside himself when the tidings were brought to him of the 405energetic efforts of this great champion of the Gospel. One day, the evangelical doctor having delivered a very powerful discourse, the prelate no longer restrained himself; and in the first burst of his wrath he sent for the captain of his body-guards—the bishop had his guards—and said to the man, whose name was Caspar Peruzitti—‘Go, give him a lesson that he may remember.’ The captain, a rough, impetuous fellow, went to the venerable doctor and, addressing him in a saucy tone, gave him several slaps on the face with the palm of his hand. Szegedin did not lose his self-command, but desired to clear himself of the wrongs which were alleged against him. The coarse soldier then knocked him down, and trampling on him in anger and rage gave him repeated sharp blows with his heavy boots armed with spurs. This was the method of confutation adopted by a Romish prelate in Hungary in the sixteenth century. There were confutations, we must say, of a more intellectual kind. The bishop did not stop here; he confiscated the doctor’s precious library, which was his chief earthly treasure and the quiver from which he drew his arrows. He then drove him from Jasnyad. God did not abandon him. Szegedin renounced himself, took up his cross, cried to God and besought Him to shed abroad His light. In the following year he was enabled to devote his talents and his faith to the cause of knowledge and the Gospel in the celebrated school of Jynla; and not long after he was called to be professor and preacher at Czegled, in the comitat of Pesth.^[595]

One characteristic feature of this epoch is the fact that two religions, two powers, were then dominant in Hungary; Rome and Constantinople, the Pope and Mohammed. The former persecuted the Gospel, and the latter granted to it reasonable liberty. Roman Catholicism recognized in evangelical Christianity its own principal doctrines, the divinity of Jesus Christ, the expiation of the cross and others besides; while Islamism was shocked at the idea of the Trinity, of the Godhead of the Saviour, and of salvation by His expiation, and said haughtily—‘God is God, and Mohammed is his prophet.’ In the nature of things Roman Catholicism would surely respect and protect evangelical Christians who were living under the dominion of the Crescent; and the successor of Mohammed would as naturally persecute those who, in his opinion, professed detestable doctrines, as his master had done before him, sword in hand. The very reverse took place.

This, however, is easily explained. Rome, by her church system, had established herself apart from the Gospel. Of course something of the Christian religion remained in her doctrine; and this Christianity was and had always been dear to the seven thousand who, in the midst of the Catholics, had not bowed the knee to Baal. But this residuum was generally concealed, and what was apparent was something entirely different. It was the pope, his cardinals, his agents, worship paid to the Virgin, to the saints, to created beings, numberless rites, images, pilgrimages, indulgences, and every one knows what besides. The Catholicism of the pontiffs, not finding these superfluities 407and superstitions in evangelical Christianity, was stoutly opposed to it. It was all the more so because it saw instead the great principles of a living faith, of regeneration, and of the new birth, of which it knew not what to make. It therefore waged on its opponents ‘a strange and long war in which violence attempted to suppress the truth. It committed frightful excesses against the word of Jesus Christ.’^[596] Ultramontanism in the sixteenth century, as well as in later times, awoke every morning with sword drawn, in a kind of rage, like Saul, and wanted to overturn every thing, as has been said of the writer who was in our own time its most energetic champion.^[597] It did as he boasted of doing, fired in the teeth of the enemy.

The position of Islamism was different. In view of the two forms of Christianity, it despised both and was not at all inclined to place its sword, as the Catholic princes did, at the service of the pope. In the Roman churches the Mohammedan was chiefly struck by the images; and remembering better than the pope the commandment of God—Thou shalt not make any graven image nor the likeness of any thing—he felt a higher esteem for Protestants who kept it. The judges appointed by the Sublime Porte often displayed a sense of justice; and they did not think it their duty to sacrifice good men to their enemies on the ground of their not acknowledging the high-priest of Rome. While therefore we meet in these years with instances of the respect shown by the Turks for the free worship of the Gospel,^[598] we constantly find examples and very numerous ones of Romish intolerance.

Ferdinand formed an exception. He perceived that 408the Reformation was making great progress in his kingdom; and, more enlightened than his brother had been, far from declaring open war on Protestantism, he was anxious of the two opposing parties to mould one single Church, and thought that in order to succeed in this he must make important concessions. He believed, in common with the Hungarian Diet, that a general council alone, which should take as the basis of its labors the Holy Scriptures, could bring about this important reconciliation. This council, which assembled at Trent in December, 1545, Ferdinand called upon to unite the two parties by effecting a reform of faith and morals, particularly as regarded the pope and his court; by abolishing dispensations and simony, sources of so much disorder; by transforming the clergy, who ought for the future to give themselves to an honorable and chaste behavior, and to primitive simplicity and purity in their dress, their way of life, and their doctrine; by administration of the Supper in both kinds; by urging the pope to take as his model the humility of Jesus; by abolishing the celibacy of priests, occasion of so much scandal; and by suppressing apocryphal traditions.^[599] These demands for reform showed plainly enough what strength the Gospel had gained in Hungary, and the immense benefit which the Reformation would have conferred on the Church universal if Rome, instead of withstanding it, had submitted to its wholesome influence. Instead of all this the council pronounced the anathema against the holiest doctrines of the Gospel and of the Reformation.

If Hungary did not succeed in exerting an influence upon the Council of Trent, the council nevertheless produced some effect on Hungary. Evangelical Christians felt the necessity of drawing together, of concentration, of union. There were in the country, in the fifteenth century, some Hussite congregations, the organization of which was Presbyterian in form; and God had just raised 409up a great number of Christians who, by means of Devay and others, had been brought into contact with the Swiss, and had attached themselves to the synodal system which was flourishing among the confederates. They desired to act in concert and to help each other under the direction of Christ, the King of the Church, at a time when the adherents of the pope were united under his law. The powerful and pious magnate Caspar Dragfy encouraged them with a promise of his protection. An assembly was held in the town of Erdoed, comitat of Szathmar, in the north of Transylvania. Twenty-nine pastors attached to the Helvetic confession met there; and anxious to set forth the faith which formed their bond of union, they conversed together of God, of the Redeemer, of the justification of the sinner, of faith, good works, the sacraments, the confession of sins, Christian liberty, the head of the Church, the Church, the order which must be established in it, and the lawful separation from Rome. They were all agreed; and having embodied in a formula their belief on these twelve points, they were desirous at the same time of expressing their close union with all Christians and particularly with the disciples of Luther. They therefore added in conclusion the following statement: ‘In the other articles of the faith we agree with the true Church, as it is set forth in the confession presented at Augsburg to the emperor Charles the Fifth.’ This conclusion shows that on some points these churches did not agree with the Confession of Augsburg, and proves the adhesion of the Erdoed pastors to the Helvetic confession; an adhesion which is denied by some writers.^[600]

It was not long before the Lutherans on their side followed this example. They were found chiefly in those parts of Hungary and Transylvania in which German was spoken; while the Helvetic confession had its most numerous adherents among the Magyars of Finnish origin.

410In 1546, five towns of Upper Hungary held an assembly at Eperies, in which sixteen articles of faith were settled. ‘We will continue faithful,’ said the delegates, ‘to the faith professed in the Confession of Augsburg and in Melanchthon’s book.’^[601] This assembly laid down very rigorous regulations. A minister who should teach any other doctrine, after being warned, was to be deprived of his office; and the magistrate was to be exhorted not to allow serious offences, in order that the ministers might not be compelled to re-establish excommunication. No one was to be admitted to the Lord’s Supper until he had been properly examined.

Notwithstanding the severity of these principles and the determined temper of the Hungarians, there were not seen among them at this time those passionate conflicts which sometimes took place between opposing confessions. This may have been owing to the difference of nationalities. For the two races inhabiting the country were separated by language and by customs. It may also have been the case that there was a clearer apprehension in this noble country than elsewhere of the truth that when there exists a unity in the great doctrines of the faith contention ought not to be allowed on secondary points.^[602]

The evangelical doctors did not confine themselves to holding their regular meetings; but everywhere they preached the Gospel to great multitudes.^[603]

About this time Szegedin was called from Czegled to Temeswar, an important town situated a little farther south than Szegedin, his native place, the name of which 411he bore. This call was sent to him by Count Peter Petrovich, one of the guardians of the young son of Zapolya, but a very different man from his colleague, the bishop. Petrovich was the avowed friend and the powerful protector of evangelical reform. Szegedin, in his new position, immediately put forth all his energies. He not only expounded and defended sound doctrine as a theologian, but he scattered abroad in men’s hearts the seeds of truth and of life. The count loved and admired him, and countenanced his labors. He protected him against his enemies, and took an interest in the smallest affairs of his life. For example, he gave him for winter wear a coat lined with fox-fur.^[604] The glad tidings of the love of God, which save him who believes, were spreading farther and wider in these lands, when after three years Szegedin had the pain of seeing the place of his protector, Count Petrovich, taken by a superior officer of the army, Stephen Losonczy. If the former concerned himself lovingly about the Gospel of peace, the latter made no account of any thing but war, cared for nothing but the soldiery, and was devoted to the Romish party. Losonczy troubled himself very little about the army of Jesus Christ. He wanted to hear only of that army which he trained, and which at his command executed skilful manœuvres; and he was annoyed with those evangelists who troubled conscience and urged men to think of things above. In this he could see nothing but a dangerous enthusiasm. He thought it was far more useful to mind things below. In his view the military art was not only the most beautiful and the most ingenious, but also the most essential. Men of truly Christian character have been sometimes found serving in armies, and even in the higher ranks. But those who, like Losonczy, look upon religion as a troublesome superstition which must be suppressed have never been rare, even in religious 412epochs. The successor of Count Petrovich, therefore, did not hesitate to expel from the country those whom his predecessor had called thither; not Szegedin alone, but also the other ministers, his colleagues. No sooner had he done this than the Turks appeared, seized the fortress, and massacred all the Christians they met with, including the unhappy Losonczy himself. None escaped but the pastors whom the terrible general had placed in safety by banishing them, with the intent to ruin them. The merciless Losonczy had imagined that he should defend Temeswar all the more effectually by getting rid of these tiresome ministers, whom he looked upon as mere impedimenta, quite useless, and, moreover, very embarrassing. Yet these faithful heralds of the Gospel, by interceding with God and by strengthening the hearts of men, might perhaps have saved the town and its inhabitants. They would at least have consoled them in their affliction.^[605]

If the Turks were making their conquests, the Christians likewise were making theirs, even in the districts of Hungary, then subject to Mussulman authority. Emeric Eszeky (Czigerius), a disciple of Luther and Melanchthon, having at this period returned to Hungary—Wittenberg was a fountain from which living water did not cease to flow—made a stay at Tolna on the Danube, south of Buda. His heart was grieved to see the population of the town wholly given up to superstition and impiety. Nevertheless, he was not disheartened; and he began to make known the Gospel in private houses and everywhere. After fifteen days, three or four persons had received the knowledge of the Gospel. This was little, and yet it was a great deal. But desirous of a more abundant harvest, he left the town and travelled about the surrounding country. Finding the common people absorbed in the concerns of mere material existence, he resolved to address 413chiefly the school-masters and the priests, expecting to find in them a good soil for the sowing of the word. He was not altogether mistaken; for if many bigoted priests dismissed him, some of the ecclesiastics and masters of schools nevertheless gave him welcome. Arriving one day at the parish of Cascov, comitat of Baranya, he knocked at the door of the parson, Michael Szataray. He was kindly received, and they had a long conversation. The priest, a serious and sincere man, relished the good words of Eszeky, and with all his heart believed the good news of the Gospel, which hitherto he had but vaguely understood. He felt immediately impelled to communicate it to others, and courageously joined Eszeky. The two travelling ministers, filled with earnestness, succeeded in spreading abroad evangelical light in the whole of Lower Hungary. They led a life of hardship, and had frequently to meet with hatred and persecution. But their patience was perfect, and God kept them safe from all danger.^[606]

While Eszeky, accompanied by his fellow-laborer, was thus visiting the towns and country districts, the seed which he had scattered at Tolna, and which at first seemed to have sprung up only in two or three places, had germinated a little everywhere. The field which had seemed barren, had at length given proof of fertility. Those of the inhabitants who had embraced the Reformation had built a church at the extremity of the town; and, two years and nine months after the departure of the reformer, he received a call to preach the Gospel there again. He returned to Tolna, proclaimed Christ, and the church was filled with hearers. But great dangers awaited him there. There were two distinct parties in the place; and while some of the people attached themselves to the Saviour, others continued to be thoroughly devoted to the pope. At the head of the latter party was the burgomaster, who, in the frequent interviews 414which he held with the priests, was pressed to rid the town of the heretics. Unfortunately for the clergy, the magistrate could do nothing of the sort without the consent of the Turks who occupied the country. The Ultramontanes thought that they could smooth away the difficulty by untying their purse-strings. They therefore collected a considerable sum of money, and handed it to the burgomaster, who then set out for Buda, the place of residence of the pasha. Having obtained an audience of the Mussulman, he stated to him the occasion of his coming, the disturbance which was created in the town by Protestantism, and presented his rich offering. Confident that this officer was what is called a true Turk, inexorable and pitiless, and knowing how offenders, even viziers themselves, are despatched at Constantinople, he in plain terms requested the pasha to have Eszeky put to death, or at the least to banish him. The Mohammedan governor did not think it his duty to proceed without observing judicial forms. He consulted his Cadis, who informed their chief that the man against whom the complaint was laid was an opponent of images and other Romish superstitions. The pasha consequently gave orders that ‘the preacher of the doctrine discovered by Luther (this was how they described the Gospel) should freely proclaim it to all who were willing to hear it.’

Eszeky and his companions were delighted to hear that the Turks gave them the liberty of which the Romanists wished to deprive them. The evangelical Christians could now without hinderance diffuse the knowledge of Christ either in the church or elsewhere. A school was established; and on August 3, 1549, Eszeky applied to his friend Matthias Flacius Illyricus for books and assistants.^[607]

The provinces which submitted to Ferdinand were no more forgotten than those which were under the rule of 415the Turks. The Reformation was now making great progress there. The priest Michael Szataray, who was converted by the ministry of Eszeky, went to Komorn. Anthony Plattner joined him; and both of them laboring zealously in this island formed by the confluence of the Danube and the Waag, they laid the foundation of a great community of the Helvetic confession. At Tyrnau also, to the north of Presburg, the former teaching of Grynaeus and Devay, and the evangelical writings which were eagerly read there, led the greater part of the population to embrace the evangelical doctrines. The five towns of the mountain region, which were held as allodial estates by Queen Mary, peacefully enjoyed under her government the blessings of the Gospel. But the princess having made a lease of them to her brother Ferdinand, the priests wanted immediately to take advantage of this for the oppression of these pious people. These attempts rekindled their zeal; and the churches forwarded to the king’s delegates, at Eperies, an evangelical confession full of faithfulness and of charity (Pentapolitana Confessio). Ferdinand commanded that they should be let alone.^[608]

The characteristic feature of this epoch, however, was—we say once more—the progress which the Gospel was making under the rule of the Turks. Fresh instances of this were constantly appearing. Faithful ministers proclaimed the consolation and the peace of Jesus Christ to the distressed and impoverished Hungarians who had remained in Buda under the Mussulman yoke. The servants of Rome endeavored to gainsay them. ‘A coarse, papistical Satan,’ wrote some one from Hungary to a Breslau pastor, ‘opposed with all his might this Christian ministry,’^[609] He brought the subject before the pasha. The latter, after hearing both sides, decided in favor of 416evangelical preaching, ‘Because,’ he said, ‘it teaches that one God alone is to be worshipped, and because it condemns the abuse of images which we abominate.’^[610] The pasha, addressing the accuser, added—‘I am not placed here by my emperor to busy myself about these controversies, but in order to keep his empire as much at peace as possible.’ At Szegedin also he protected the Gospel and its ministers against the violence of the papists. ‘See,’ said the friends of the Gospel, ‘how wonderful and how consoling is the counsel of God! We thought that the Turks would be cruel oppressors of the faith and of those who profess it; but God would have it otherwise. Is it not astonishing to see how the good news of the glory of God is spreading in the midst of all these wars and disturbances?^[611] The whole of Transylvania has received the evangelical faith, in spite of the prohibition of the monk and bishop George (Martinuzzi). Wallachia, which is also subject to the Turks, professes the faith. The Gospel is spreading from place to place throughout Hungary. Assuredly, if these agitations of war had not broken out, the false bishops would have stirred up against us far graver ones.’

The reformation of Denmark and Sweden proceeded, humanly speaking, from Luther, at whose feet the Scandinavian reformers had received the Protestant doctrine. Consequently it was of later date than the reformation of Germany. But there was one country in which the piercing tones of the evangelical trumpet had been heard a century before Luther; and we must not forget this country in the general history of the Reformation. The discourses of John Hus had resounded in Bohemia and Moravia. A great number of believers were to be found there at the beginning of the sixteenth century; but Luther’s reformation gave them a new life.

The disciples of Hus were divided into two distinct parties. One of these had kept up certain relations with the Government of the country, and had been weakened by the influence of the court. The members of this party did not reject the authority of the Roman Catholic bishops of Bohemia; and their principal concern was to reclaim the cup for the laity, which procured them the designation of Calixtines. But the majority of the Hussites, who were chiefly to be found among the country people and the provincial nobility, having entered into relations with the Wycliffites and the Vaudois, went farther than Hus himself. They professed justification by faith in the Saviour, and looked upon the institution of the papacy as anti-christian. This party, distinguished by the name of Taborites, was not at the time of its origin what it afterwards became. The waters, far from being tranquil, had then been in a state of fermentation, ebullition, and violent agitation. These ardent religionists 418had uttered war-cries and fought battles. But gradually, being purified by means of the struggle and by adversity, they had become more calm, more spiritual; and from 1457 to 1467 they had formed a respectable Christian community under the name of the United Brethren.

Two different views as to the Lord’s Supper prevailed among them, without however disturbing their brotherly unity. The majority believed, with Wycliffe that the body of Christ is truly given with the bread; not however corporeally but spiritually, sacramentally—to the soul, not to the mouth. This was afterwards very nearly Calvin’s thought. The most decided of the Hussites on this side was Lucas, an elder of the church. The others, fewer in number, bore some resemblance in their views to the Vaudois, and looked upon the bread as simply representing the body of Christ. This was afterwards the view of Zwinglius. The two parties were tolerant of each other and loved each other; and both were strongly opposed to the notion of a corporeal presence of Christ in the eucharist.

Suddenly the report of Luther’s reformation reached Bohemia, and there was great joy among the disciples of Hus. They saw at last arising that eagle which their master had announced, and a power shaping itself which would bring them important aid in their struggle with the papacy. The Calixtines had addressed Luther both by letter and by messengers. He received these with kindness; but he was not so friendly to the United Brethren. He would not enter into relation with a sect some of whose opinions he did not share. One day, in 1520, when preaching on the sacrament of Christ’s body, he said—‘The Brethren or Picards are heretics, for, as I have seen in one of their books, they do not believe that the flesh and the blood of Christ are truly in the sacrament.’^[612] This deeply affected the Bohemian evangelicals.

419Oppressed as they were, these brethren were anxious to find support in the Saxon reformation; and now it repulsed them! It seemed as if the little relish which they had for dogmatic formulæ, and the altogether practical tendency of their Christianity, must make it easy for them to come to an understanding with the Wittenberg reformers. They therefore sent two members of their body to Luther, John Horn and Michael Weiss, whose appointed task was, while not in any particular disowning their own doctrine, to bring the famous doctor to a better opinion of those whom he called heretics. It was not without some timidity that the two Hussites approached Wittenberg. As members of a despised and persecuted community, how would they be received by the illustrious doctor, a man who enjoyed the protection of princes, whose voice was beginning to stir all Europe, and whose audacious utterances terrified his adversaries? The interview took place at the beginning of July, 1522. The two humble delegates set forth accurately their belief respecting the Lord’s Supper. ‘Christ,’ they said, ‘is not corporeally in the bread, as those believe who assert that they have seen his blood flow. He is there spiritually, sacramentally.’^[613] It might seem to Luther a critical moment. He encountered habitually so much opposition in the world, that he might well ask whether he should go on to compromise himself still farther by giving his hand to these old dissidents, who had been so many times excommunicated, mocked, and crushed. Was it his duty, in addition to all the opprobrium under which he already labored, to take upon him also that which attached to this sect? A small mind would have yielded to the temptation; but Luther’s was a great soul. He had respect only to the truth. ‘If these divines teach,’ said Luther, ‘that a Christian who receives the bread visibly receives also, doubtless invisibly, but nevertheless in a natural manner, the blood of Him who sits at the right 420hand of the Father, I cannot condemn them. In speaking of the communion, they make use of obscure and barbarous expressions, instead of employing Scriptural phrases; but I have found their belief almost entirely sound.’ Then, addressing the delegates at the time of their leave-taking, he gave them this advice—‘Be good enough to express yourselves more clearly in a fresh statement.’

The United Brethren sent him this fresh statement in 1523. It was the production of their elder, Lucas, who, as a zealous Wycliffite, came near to Luther, but at the same time felt bound to make no concessions. He had consequently set forth very clearly that there was in the Supper only spiritual nourishment for spiritual use. He had likewise added that Christ was not in the sacrament, but only in heaven. Luther was at first offended by these words. One might have said that these Bohemians took pleasure in defying him. But Christian feeling gained the ascendency in the great doctor. The discourses of Lucas gave him more satisfaction than his treatises. He therefore relented, and addressed to the Brethren his work on the Worship of the Sacrament,^[614] in which while setting forth his own doctrinal views he testified for them much love and esteem. Both sides seem to have vied with each other in noble bearing. The party which most nearly agreed with Luther became the strongest; and after the death of Lucas, feeling more at liberty, it came to an agreement with the Saxon reformer, while those who looked upon the bread as representing Christ’s body, at the head of whom was Michael Weiss, entered into relations with Zwinglius.^[615] All that we have just said relates to the Taborites.

The Calixtines, on their part, also felt the influence of the movement which was shaking the Christian world. 421One tie still bound them to the Roman hierarchy. ‘Who is it that appoints pastors?’ they wrote to Luther; ‘is it not the bishops who have received authority from the Church to do so?’ The reformer’s answer was at once modest and decided. ‘What you ask of me,’ he replied, ‘is beyond my power. However, what I have I give to you; but I intend that your own judgment and that of your brethren should be exercised in the most complete freedom. I offer you nothing more than counsel and exhortation.’^[616] The reformer’s opinion was contained in a treatise annexed to his letter; and therein he showed that each congregation had a right itself to choose and to consecrate its own ministers. The modesty with which Luther expressed himself is something far removed from the arrogance which his enemies delight to attribute to him. The Calixtines, captivated by the reformer’s charity and faith, determined in an assembly held in 1524, to continue in the way marked out by Luther the reformation begun by John Hus. This decision called forth keen opposition on the part of some of the body, and its unity was broken. The number, however, of the Lutheran Calixtines continually increased. They received in general such of the evangelical doctrines as were still wanting to them; and henceforth they differed from the United Brethren only by their want of discipline and more intercourse with the world.

It was not in Bohemia alone that John Hus had become the forerunner of the Reformation; he had been so in other lands of Eastern Europe. One country, Poland, seemed as if it must precede other nations in the path of reformation. But after some rough conflicts with Jesuitism it passed from the van to the rear. Having lost the Gospel, it lost independence, and now remains in the midst of Europe a ruined monument, showing to the nations what they become when they allow the truth to be 422taken away from them. Already, in 1431, some of the disciples of Hus had come into Poland, and had publicly defended at Cracow evangelical doctrines against the doctors of the university, and this in the presence of the king and the senate. In 1432, other Bohemians arrived in Poland, and announced that the general council of Basel had received their deputies. The bishop of Cracow, a steadfast adherent of the Romish party, fulminated an interdict against them.^[617] But the king and even several of the bishops were not at all disturbed thereby, and they gave a favorable reception to these disciples of John Hus, so that their doctrines were diffused in various parts of Poland. Wycliffe was also known there; and, about the middle of the fifteenth century, Dobszynski, a Polish poet, composed a poem in his honor.

Thus Hus and Wycliffe, Bohemia and England, countries so wonderfully unlike each other, were at the same time, as early as the fifteenth century, laboring to disseminate the light in the land of the Jagellons. It was not in vain. In 1459, Ostrorog, palatine of Posen, presented to the Diet a project of reform which, without touching upon dogmas, distinctly pointed out abuses, and established the fact that the pope had no authority whatever over kings, because the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. In 1500, celibacy and the worship of relics were attacked in some works published at Cracow. In 1515 Bernard of Lublin established the express principle of the Reformation—that we must believe only the Word of God, and that we ought to reject the tradition of men.^[618] This was the state of things when the Reformation appeared. How would it be received?

The common people both in the country and in the towns were in general dull of understanding and destitute of culture. But the citizens of the great towns, who 423by commerce were brought into intercourse with other populations, and particularly with those of Germany, had developed themselves and began to be acquainted with their rights. A wealthy and powerful aristocracy were predominant in the country. The clergy had no power at all. The Church had no influence whatever on the State, nor did the State ever assist the Church. The priests themselves, by reason of their worldliness and their immorality, were in many places objects of contempt. Sigismund I., the reigning sovereign, was a prince of noble character and of enlightened mind; and he endeavored to promote a taste for the sciences and the arts. Such a country appeared to be placed in circumstances very favorable for the reception of the Gospel.

The Reformation had no sooner begun, than Luther’s writings arrived in Poland, and laymen began to read them with eager interest. Some young Germans, who had been students at Wittenberg, made known the Reformation in the families in which they were engaged as tutors; and afterwards they endeavored to propagate it among the flocks of which they became pastors. Some young Poles flocked around Luther; and afterwards they scattered abroad in their native land the seed which they had collected at Wittenberg.

The Reformation naturally began in that part of Poland which lay nearest to Germany, of which Posen is the capital. In 1524 Samuel, a Dominican monk, attacked there the errors of the Roman Church. In 1525, John Seclucyan preached the Gospel in the same district; and a powerful family, the Gorkas, received him into their mansion, in which they had already established evangelical worship, and gave him protection against his persecutors.^[619] This pious man availed himself of the leisure afforded him by this Christian hospitality to translate the New Testament into Polish. Alone, in the chamber in which he had been obliged to take refuge, he accomplished, 424like Luther in the Wartburg, a work which was to be the enlightening of many souls.

The Gospel did not stop here. Just as in a dark night one flash which shines in the west is succeeded by another on the farthest borders of the east, so the doctrine of salvation, after appearing in the west of Poland, suddenly showed itself in the north, in the east, even as far as Königsberg. From the still chamber in which John Seclucyan carried on his valuable labors the Polish reveille transports us into a great, flourishing, and populous town, to which foreigners in great numbers resorted from all quarters. Dantzic, which then belonged to Poland, became the principal focus of the Reformation in these lands. From 1518, German merchants, attracted thither by the commerce and industry of the city, took pleasure in recounting there the great discoveries which Luther was making in the Bible. A pious, enlightened, decided man, named Jacob Knade, a native of Dantzic, gave ear to the good news which the Germans proclaimed and received them joyfully. He opened his house immediately to all who wished to hear the same. His frank and open disposition and his amiable address made it easy for any one to cross the threshold of his abode. He did not confine himself to Christian conversation. As he was an ecclesiastic, he began to preach in public his faith in the church of St. Peter. He loved the Saviour and knew how to make others love Him. To flowers he added fruit, and to good words good works. Convinced that marriage is a divine institution, the object of which is to preserve the holiness of life, he married. This act raised a terrible storm. The enemies of the Reformation, persuaded that if this example were followed the Church of Rome could not subsist, had him thrown into prison.^[620] Released after six months, he was compelled to leave the town; and he would have wandered to and fro if a noble in the neighborhood of Thorn had not offered him an 425asylum, as the Gorka family had done to the evangelist of Posen. The nobles of Poland showed themselves noble indeed; and in practising hospitality they entertained angels unawares.^[621]

The bishop of the diocese, of which Dantzic with its priests was a dependency, awakened from their slumbers, tried all means of beating back what they called heresy; and for this purpose they founded the fraternity of the Annunciation of Mary, the members of which were diligently to visit all persons who were spoken of as brought to the Gospel. ‘Come now,’ they said to them, ‘return to the Catholic and Apostolic Church, beyond whose pale there is no salvation.’ But the evangelical work, instead of falling off, continued to increase. Various divines had filled the post of Knade at Dantzic—the Hebraist Böschenstein, a Carmelite, Binewald, and others.

The citizens would have no more of the Roman Church, on account of its errors; and the common people scoffed at it, on account of its petty practices. In the convent of the Franciscans there was a pious monk, Doctor Alexander, who had gradually become convinced not only of evangelical truth, but also of the necessity of preaching it. However, he was no Luther. He was one of those placid, moderate, and somewhat timid men who abstain from any thing which may provoke contradiction, and are a little too much masters of themselves. He remained, therefore, in his convent, continued attached to the Church, and preached the truth seriously, but with great cautiousness. The more cultivated of the inhabitants attended his preaching. There was a crowd of hearers, and many were enlightened by his discourses. But some could not understand why he did not separate from Rome. Some pious Christians, occasionally a little enthusiastic, demanded that every thing should be changed, without as well as within, and that an entirely new order should be established in the Church. They 426were certainly not wrong to desire it, but they did not understand that this new order must be established by the faith of the heart, and not by the strength of the arm. One of these, named Hegge,^[622] preached in the open air outside the town. ‘To bow down before images,’ he exclaimed, ‘is stupidity; nay more, it is idolatry;’ and he induced his hearers to break the idols. Fortunately, by the side of these iconoclasts there were some prudent evangelical Christians who, perceiving like Luther that it was by the Word that all needful change must be wrought, requested of the council that it might be publicly preached. The council, which included the aristocracy of the town, most of them Roman Catholics, and which was controlled by the bishop, at first rejected this request. But, at length, finding that a very large number of the inhabitants had embraced the Reformation, it granted five churches for their use. From this time the two doctrines, that of the Gospel and that of Rome, were both preached in the town. Religious liberty existed, and the evangelicals were satisfied therewith.

But the enthusiasts of whom we have spoken, who had not yet renounced the intolerant theories which were and always will be held by Rome,^[623] wanted something else. ‘What,’ they said, ‘Christian churches filled with images of men! A people bowing down to them! All the churches must be cleared of images, and the Word of God must be established.’ The council gave a decisive refusal. It appeared to these Christians that the magistrates were thus placing themselves in opposition to the will of God. It was, therefore, essential to have others. Although the town was under the sovereignty of the king of Poland, it enjoyed a complete independence in the management of its home affairs. Four thousand Lutherans took advantage of this fact. They assembled, surrounded the town-hall, and appointed other magistrates 427from among their own friends. These officers required the priests to preach the Gospel, and to cast things defiled out of the sanctuary. As the priests refused to do so, the new council set evangelical ministers in their place, abolished the Romish worship, converted the convents into schools and hospitals, and declared that as the wealth of the church was public property, it should remain untouched.^[624]

The subject of the organization of the Church in conformity with the Holy Scriptures was now under discussion. These men of action found that they knew very little about it, and they determined to invite Doctor Pomeranus to go and perform this task. Pomeranus (Bugenhagen) was the organizer and administrator of the Reformation. One of the Dantzic pastors, Doctor John, set out for Wittenberg. On his arrival he betook himself to Luther, delivered to him the letter with which he was entrusted, and gave him an account of the reformation at Dantzic, of course omitting its unpleasant features, and depicting it in the fairest colors. ‘Oh,’ said the great man, ‘what wonderful things Christ has wrought in that town!‘^[625] The reformer, without delay, despatched the news to Spalatin, adding, ‘I should rather that Pomeranus remained with us; but as a matter of so much importance is at stake, for the love of God we must yield.’ All were not of the same opinion. Pomeranus was so valuable at Wittenberg. ‘Ah,’ replied the ardent reformer, ‘if I were called, I would go immediately.’^[626] The council of the university then interfered. ‘Many foreign students,’ said the council, ‘come to Wittenberg; we must therefore keep the men who are competent to train useful ministers for other towns of Germany.’ 428Michael Hanstein was chosen instead of Pomeranus. ‘If there be any changes to introduce,’ wrote the reformer when dismissing him, ‘images or other things to put away, let it be done not by the people but by the regular action of the council. We must not despise the powers that be.’^[627]

This prudent counsel came too late. The reforms effected at Dantzic had thrown the Roman Catholics into a state of distress; and amongst them were to be found the most eminent men. What! no more images, no more altars, no more masses, no more churches! Some of the members of the old council were dispatched to ask aid of King Sigismund. They arrived at the palace in carriages hung with black; they made their appearance before the prince in mourning apparel, their heads encircled with crape, as if the sovereign himself were dead; and on their countenances was the expression of deep grief. They laid their grievances before the king, and entreated him to save the town from the complete ruin with which it seemed to be threatened and to re-establish the old order of things abolished by the townsmen.

The king was struck by the appearance of these men wearing mourning for the Church. Notwithstanding his remarkable capacities he did not see that there could be any other religion than that in which he was born; and he followed in this matter the advice of his prelates. He therefore summoned the leaders of the reformed party. These men, however, while professing their loyalty to the prince, did not appear at his call, and were consequently outlawed. In April, 1526, Sigismund himself went to Dantzic. Although a Roman Catholic, he was an opponent of persecution on account of religion. Being urged on one occasion by John Eck to follow the example of the king of England, who had just declared against the Reformation, the king replied—‘Let Henry VIII. publish, 429if he like, books against Luther; but I for my part will be the same to the goats and to the sheep.’ But the present case was very different. The reformers had laid hands on the State; a political body had been overthrown. Sigismund was pitiless. The heads of the movement were punished with confiscation of their property and banishment from Dantzic or death. Every citizen who did not return to the Roman Church had to leave the town in fifteen days; the married priests, monks and nuns, in twenty-four hours. Every inhabitant was to deliver up Luther’s books. The Roman worship was everywhere restored, and the church of St. Mary, in particular, was given back to the Virgin by a solemn mass. The Dantzic reformers thus paid dear for the mistake which they had made, forgetting the great apostolical principle, ‘The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God.’^[628]

This persecution, however, did not extinguish faith in men’s hearts; it purified them. Three years later, while a terrible epidemic was raging at Dantzic, a pious minister, named Pancrace Klemme, proclaimed the Gospel there, with love, power, and sobriety. The king broke out in threatenings. Klemme declared that he would accept no other rule of conduct or of teaching but the Word of God; and carrying on his work vigorously he earned the title of the Dantzic Reformer. Sigismund, struck with his wise procedure, and fearing lest this and other towns in his dominions should ally themselves with evangelical Prussia, took no notice. In the succeeding reign, the Gospel again triumphed in this city, but without confusion, and without infringing on the liberty of the Roman Catholics.

Thorn, a town situated like Dantzic on the Vistula, but further south, and which afterwards played a somewhat important part in the history of the Reformation, was 430also among the first to display its enthusiasm for it. At a Diet held in this town in 1520, the king issued an ordinance against Luther. In the following year, the pope and the bishop of Kamienez having determined to get an effigy of the reformer publicly burnt, some partisans of the illustrious doctor, rather hasty no doubt, finding that his enemies resorted to fire for the purpose of convincing them, took up stones and threw them at the prelates and their adherents. These disturbances were renewed in other shapes, but ultimately every thing settled down; and a few years later the Gospel was regularly preached in the churches.

It might have been said that the Vistula bore the Reformation on its waters; for we have found it at Thorn and at Dantzic, and we find it also at the old capital of the kingdom, Cracow. A secretary of the king, named Louis Dietz, afterwards burgomaster of this town, having visited Wittenberg in 1522, came back full of what he had seen and heard, and distributed his new treasure freely on his return. Many of the inhabitants then embraced the doctrine of the Reformation. The university appears to have been the centre from which the light radiated. Luther’s works were publicly offered for sale, and every body wanted to know what was in them. Theologians, students and townsmen bought and read them eagerly, and the professors did not disapprove them. Modrzewski, a writer of that time, has narrated what occurred in his own case. Impelled simply by curiosity, he began to read the books unconcernedly; but as he went on, the seriousness, the truth, and the life which he found in them interested him more and more. When he had come to the end, the opinions of the Roman tradition had given place in his mind to the truths of the Gospel.

There was in Poland a party which held a middle ground between enthusiasm on the one side and opposition to it on the other. The educated classes were very generally at this time in a state of doubt, hesitating 431between the two doctrines. A secret society was formed, composed of well-informed men, both laymen and churchmen, whose object was to read and to discuss the evangelical publications. The queen herself, Bona Sforza, was one of these investigators. She had for her confessor a learned Italian monk, one Lismanini, who received all the antipapistical books published in the various countries of Europe, and transmitted them to the society of examiners. The queen was sometimes present at the conferences. It was not till a later day, however, that this association rose into far greater importance.^[629]

The number of people decided in favor of reform was continually increasing. The university, the library, the cathedral, and even the bishop’s palace resounded with theological discussions between the partisans of tradition and those of Holy Scripture. The students especially were enthusiastic for Luther. The bishop, alarmed and bent on applying some remedy, summoned a professor whose ultramontane orthodoxy was unimpeachable, and explained his fears to him. The professor, all afire with zeal, ascended the pulpit and delivered before the students several very animated sermons against Luther and his Reformation.^[630] But it was to no purpose that he did so. The doctrine thus attacked was constantly propagated farther and wider. Fabian de Lusignan, bishop of Ermeland in the palatinate of Marienburg, was friendly to it; and other bishops besides were believed to have leanings to Wittenberg.

A fresh circumstance occurred to give this doctrine powerful support. Albert, duke of Prussia Proper, whose seat was at Königsberg, had been enlightened, as we have noticed, by the preaching of Osiander at Nürnberg; and he had become the protector of evangelical doctrine in the towns of Poland in his neighborhood. Luther rejoicing at the news wrote to the bishop of Samland—‘In 432Albert, that illustrious hero, you have a prince full of zeal for the Gospel; and now the people of Prussia, who perhaps had never known the Gospel, or at least had only heard a falsified version of it, are in possession of it in all its brightness.’^[631]

Ere long the Reformation reached Livonia, and Luther was filled with joy to hear that ‘God was there also beginning his marvellous works.’ Luther was, so to speak, the bishop of the new churches, and his powerful words came to them to guide and strengthen. In August, 1523, he wrote to the Christians of Riga, Revel, and other places in that country—‘Be sure there will come wolves who will want to lead you back into Egypt, to the devilish and false worship. From this Christ has delivered you. Take heed therefore that ye be not carried away. Be assured that Christ alone is eternally our Lord, our priest, our teacher, our bishop, our Saviour, and our comforter, against sin, against sorrow, against death, and against every thing that is hurtful to us.’^[632]

Directing our attention further to the east and the north, we see Russia, of which we shall have something to say in connection with Poland, and which did not see till a later day any disciples of the Reformation, and these almost all foreigners. Nevertheless, at the time of Luther’s rising against the captivity of the Church, there was also in these lands a movement in the direction of the Bible. The sacred writings, transcribed by ignorant copyists, had been gradually altered, and the sense had been corrupted. In 1520, the Czar Vassili Ivanovich applied to the monks of Mount Athos to send him a doctor competent to restore the true text. Maximus, a Greek monk, well acquainted with the Greek and the Slavonic languages, arrived at Moscow. He was received with much respect, and he spent ten years in correcting the Slave version by the original text. But 433the Russian priests, ignorant and superstitious, were jealous of his superiority. They accused him of altering the sacred books with a view to introduce a new doctrine; and the doctor was consigned to a convent.^[633] The Greek or Russian Church unhappily remained outside the circle of the Reformation.

CHAPTER VII.
THE POLISH REFORMER.
(1524-1527.)

In Poland, hitherto, it is only secondary workers, if we may so speak, that we have met with. The country was, however, to possess in one of her own sons a man worthy to rank with the reformers, and whose ambition it would be to see his native land enlightened by the Gospel. Unhappily, during his best years, the storm of persecution drove him to a distance from her.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, there was in Poland a noble and wealthy family, whose rare privilege it was to count among its members several distinguished men. The foremost of these, John, baron Alasco, was archbishop of Gnesen (Gniezno), capital of Great Poland, and at the same time primate of the kingdom. He was a man endowed with a noble character, a friend of the sciences, devoted to his country, the legislation of which he had striven to improve, in favor at court, and an avowed enemy to the Reformation. He had three nephews, brothers, who were very distinguished men in their day. The eldest, Stanislaus, was minister plenipotentiary of Poland in France under Francis I.; and he discharged the same functions at the court of Austria. Yaroslav (or Jerome), a learned and eminent writer, was active 434also in political affairs, and played an important part in the disputes between Austria and Turkey. The third brother was named John, like his uncle, and was born at Warsaw in 1499. He dedicated himself to the priesthood, studied with distinction, under the superintendence of the primate, and according to some authorities was intended to succeed him.^[634]

At twenty-five John was still attached to the Roman Catholic faith; but he was one of those spirits which are sensitive to the noble voice of truth and freedom, when once it is heard. The principles maintained by the Vaudois, by Wycliffe and the Hussites, had prepared Poland, as already related, for the reception of ideas more Christian and more liberal than those of the papacy. The young John Alasco had felt this influence; and although he still held to Roman unity, and was prejudiced against the work of Luther, he believed, nevertheless, that there was something good in the movement for reformation which was then stirring all Europe. He wished to be a nearer spectator of the movement. Erasmus was at this time his ideal. This great scholar, while remaining in the Catholic Church, boldly contended against its abuses, and strove to diffuse everywhere more light. About 1524 Alasco quitted Poland for the purpose of visiting the courts and the most famous universities of Europe, and above all Erasmus.

The young Polish noble did not swim with the stream which was at this time carrying so many young men to Wittenberg and to Luther. He was at present too much attached to the Roman Church, and his uncle, the primate, was even more so. He therefore shaped his course at first, as it seems, for Louvain, which the archbishop must have recommended to him in preference to Wittenberg. 435But if he were really at Louvain at this epoch, the scholastic and fanatical Catholicism of the university led him immediately to seek more enlightened teaching elsewhere. It is indeed stated that at Louvain he formed a friendship with Albert Hardenberg.^[635] He might at a later time have learned much from this theologian, so distinguished for his knowledge, his penetrating intellect, and his amiable manners. But in 1523 Hardenberg was only thirteen, and he remained till 1530 in the convent of Aduwert, in the province of Groningen. It was, therefore, at a subsequent period that these two men became close friends.

The first reformer with whom we find Alasco brought into connection is Zwinglius. On his arrival at Zurich in 1525, it was natural that Alasco should wish to see the Swiss reformer, who was himself the disciple and friend of Erasmus. It was the time when Zwinglius was resisting Manz Grebel and other enthusiastic sectaries. This might encourage Alasco, who was at present a Catholic, to seek acquaintance with him. Zwinglius, when this young nobleman of the North was introduced to him, lost no time in pointing out the source at which he must seek for the truth. ‘Apply yourself,’ said he, ‘to the study of the sacred writings.’^[636] Alasco was struck with these words. He had already held intercourse with many doctors at Louvain and elsewhere, ‘but,’ said he ‘this man was the first who bade me search the Scriptures.’^[637] The more he reflected and the more he practised this precept, so much the more he began to discover the new way that leadeth unto life. He felt the power of that word, and acknowledged that it came from God.^[638] Zwinglius went 436a step farther. He called upon Alasco to forsake the papal superstition and to be converted to the Gospel.^[639]

But the nephew of the primate of Poland was not inclined, at this time, to follow the advice of Zwinglius. He was desirous of devoting his powers to the service of his country, in which he was sure to hold an influential position. It was not the episcopal mitre and its accompanying honors which attracted him. It was the hope of diffusing in the Church knowledge and piety. To attain this end he was persuaded that he ought to remain within the pale of the Church.

However this might be, Zwinglius had given him the first impulse. He had received at Zurich the touch which comes from above, and which impels men to seek for the truth in the Bible. He appears to have spent some time at Zurich. He often remembered Zwinglius with gratitude; and when he saw the reformer attacked, calumniated, and after his death represented as the worst of all enthusiasts, Alasco, who had been a witness of his conflicts with lawless men, bravely undertook his defence. ‘Doctrines are attributed to him,’ he said, ‘of which he never had a thought, and which are even contrary to those contained in his own writings.’^[640]

Alasco passed through Zurich, he tells us, on his way 437to France.^[641] It was natural, however, that on going to Basel he should see Erasmus, whose acquaintance he had so greatly desired to make. His visit to the king of the schools, therefore, must have followed immediately his visit to the reformer.^[642]

Erasmus was highly esteemed in Poland. Several grandees of the kingdom had shown him marks of their good-will, and had also made him kind presents. Alasco brought him letters from his friends; and there was in himself a grace and a modesty which might well have sufficed without any other recommendation. The scholar received him with much kindness and even with warm feeling. The young man pleased him, and he invited him to stay in his house. For the Polish student this was a most tempting offer, and he accepted it. The illustrious Dutchman might have entertained some scruples about offering to a young lord from the north his modest abode, and his manner of life, so plain and devoid of luxuries. But Erasmus did not think of this; and Alasco saw in the visit an opportunity of procuring for this eminent man some comfort and enjoyments. He had been, according to the custom of the church, richly provided from his earliest years with titles and benefices; and he was travelling, like the young nobles of the time, with a well-filled purse. He therefore took upon himself, with true Polish liberality, the household expenses during the stay which he was to make there; and he did every thing on a grand scale. He set himself also to provide for the literary tastes of Erasmus with as much generosity as delicacy.^[643]

438Alasco thus spent several months in familiar intercourse with this great man; and, aware of the ties which still bound Erasmus to the papal system, he gave himself up the more confidingly to the impressions produced on him by his fine genius in their daily intercourse. He broke off more and more from that dark Catholicism, that intolerant monachism, which Erasmus had long before lashed with his biting irony. The influence of Erasmus was of even higher importance. The Bible, and particularly the New Testament had been the special objects of his labors. Observing the serious disposition of John Alasco, he advised him to study the Holy Scriptures, thus urging him along the same path which Zwinglius had pointed out.

It is not enough, said Erasmus, in their frequent conversations, to aim at holding an important place in the church. It is necessary to acquire fitness for it, to study sound theology, and to seek for true religion in the Gospel. Alasco gave his complete assent to a truth so just, and he felt ashamed of himself. He was aspiring to the office of a priest, of a bishop, probably even of primate; and he had taken little thought about either the faith or |His Study Of The Scriptures.| the knowledge which such a position demands. He set to work, and at a later day he said to a reformer—‘It was Erasmus who led me to devote myself to holy things; it was he who first began to instruct me in true religion,’^[644] He does not appear, however, to have found at this time in Holy Scripture the deepest truth of the Christian faith. Erasmus himself had not completely sounded this depth. He preferred the Gospel to scholasticism; but he was filled at the same time with excessive admiration for the Greeks and Romans, and could hardly help, he says himself, often crying out—‘Holy Socrates, pray for us!’ It was exactly at this time that this great man was engaged in a conflict 439with Luther, and published his Diatribe on the freedom of the will, in which he greatly reduced the power of divine grace. However, no man in his day had acquired so universal a culture. Being near Erasmus was for Alasco the best stimulus to progress in his studies. The young man resolved to begin with Hebrew and the Old Testament; and at Basel he found the necessary assistance. Conrad Pellican, a native of Elsass, who had entered at an early age into the Franciscan order, had all alone in his cell made himself master of the Hebrew language; and in 1502, while he was still only twenty-four years of age, he had been named professor of theology, and afterwards warden of his monastery. Light gradually arose in his mind; and as early as 1512 Pellican and his friend Capito had arrived at the perception of the simplicity and spirituality of the Lord’s Supper. In 1523, at the request of some eminent citizens of Basel, he had substituted, for masses read and sung without end in the chapel, the daily exposition of the Holy Scriptures; and he had persevered in this course, in spite of the complaints of the most bigoted monks, who continually cried out that exposition of Scripture on weekdays savored strongly of Lutheranism! By this man Alasco was initiated in the knowledge of Hebrew and of the Old Testament. He profited at the same time by intercourse with other eminent men who were then at Basel; among whom were Glareanus,^[645] a great master of the Greek and Latin languages, and Oecolampadius, who devoted himself especially to establishing the essential foundations of the faith, without wasting time over subordinate differences. Alasco, on his part, endeavored to be of service to these scholars. He was their young Mæcenas, and he particularly encouraged Glareanus by generous subsidies. To him Glareanus afterwards dedicated one of his books.^[646] He found unspeakable happiness 440in his intercourse with men at once so pious and so accomplished; and this communion of mind, of ideas and sentiments often recurred to his remembrance. ‘It is always with great joy of heart that I recall to mind our life at Basel,’ he wrote twenty years later to one of those whom he had known there.^[647] Erasmus was hardly less pleased with the young Pole. This prince of letters used to speak of him when writing to his friends. In a letter of October 7, 1525, addressed to Egnatius, we read—‘We have here John Alasco, a Pole. He is a man of illustrious family, and will soon occupy the highest rank. His morals are pure as the snow. He has all the brilliancy of gems and gold.’^[648]

Charmed with the society of Alasco, Erasmus wrote almost at the same time to Casimbrotus—‘This worthy Pole is a young man, learned but free from pride, full of talent but without arrogance, of a disposition so frank, loving, and agreeable, that his charming company has almost made me young again at a time when sickness, hard work, and the annoyance occasioned by my detractors well-nigh made me pine away.’^[649] To Lupsetus likewise he wrote—‘The Polish count, who will soon obtain in his own land the highest position, has manners so easy, so open, and so cordial, that his company day by day makes me young again.’

Erasmus evidently had no doubt that Alasco would one day, and that very soon, be primate of Poland.^[650] ‘A glorious ancestry,’ said he further, ‘high rank, prospects 441the most brilliant, a mind of wonderful richness, uncommon extent of knowledge ... and with all this there is about him not the faintest taint of pride. The sweetness of his disposition puts him in harmony with every one. He has at the same time the steadfastness of a grown man and the solid judgment of an old man.’ We could not pass over in silence this impression produced by Alasco on the greatest critic of the age.

This delightful intercourse was suddenly broken up. The news reached Poland that Alasco was living at Basel, not only in the house of Erasmus, but in the society of the reformers. His friends were alarmed. It was their wish that he should mix with the fashionable world and attend king’s courts, rather than the meetings of those who were looked upon as heretics. He received letters from Poland, enjoining him to leave Basel, as the king called him to important affairs.^[651] Alasco was deeply grieved. ‘I shall never be able sufficiently to deplore,’ said he afterwards, ‘that the happy connections which I had formed at Basel were at that time broken off by the authority of my superiors.’^[652] While the young Pole was preparing to mount his horse,^[653] Erasmus wrote to one of his friends, a bishop—‘His departure is the death-blow to Erasmus and to many others, so many regrets he leaves behind him.’ Erasmus did not venture to detain him, since the order was from the king. Alasco at his departure entreated Erasmus to enter into correspondence with the king of Poland, in the hope that much good to his country might result therefrom. The great writer could not be comforted under his loss. To Reginald Pole he wrote—‘The Polish baron, John Alasco, who made me so happy by his society, at this moment afflicts 442me cruelly by his departure.’^[654] In March, 1526, Erasmus wrote to Alasco himself, to whom he gives, in a half-serious, half-jocose tone, the title of Highness: ‘I have been compelled to make great efforts for some months,’ says he, ‘to bring back my house, corrupted by your magnificence, to its old frugality.^[655] Through all the autumn and all the winter I have done nothing but struggle with accounts and calculations. This is but a small matter. Other difficulties have beset me in which I could easily perceive that my good genius had left me.’ It does not appear from this letter of Erasmus that the great affairs spoken of in the letter to Alasco from Poland had been entrusted to him. The message was perhaps a mere decoy.

It is supposed that Alasco went next to the court of Francis I., where his brother Stanislaus was residing, as ambassador of Poland. His own name, the letter of which he was the bearer, and the amiability of his character sufficed to ensure him at this brilliant court the most kindly reception. At a later period he corresponded with Margaret of Navarre, the king’s sister. Perhaps their acquaintance may date from this period.

We feel some doubt, however, as to the course Alasco took on leaving Basel. Possibly he made a short stay at Paris, or he may have gone to Italy. A letter of Erasmus written four months after his departure is addressed to Venice. The great author tells him that till that time he had not known where to write to him. ‘Nobody, not even a fly,’^[656] said he, ‘went hence to Venice. We were in complete uncertainty as to what part of the world contained you, whether Spain, France, or Poland.’ His family appear indeed to have wished that he should visit France and Spain; but Alasco himself seems to have 443been chiefly bent on visiting Italy. Among his admirers was a distinguished scholar, Beatus Rhenanus, who, having dedicated one of his works to him, sent the dedication to him, in February, 1526, to Padua, where he believed him to be immersed in scientific pursuits. But the young Mæcenas was by this time on his way back to Poland.

After returning to his native land, Alasco had severe struggles to pass through. His family were anxious at any cost to turn him away from his new notions and his new friends. What a scandal, what a sorrow, to see the nephew of the primate, his destined successor too, uniting with the sectaries of Zurich, Basel, and other places beside! His kinsfolk thought that if they could induce him to enter upon the diplomatic career, this would be the surest way to turn him away from the evangelical path. It appears, indeed, that he was designated to undertake more than one mission of this kind; but his fondness for study, his feeble health, and doubtless the new faith which was springing up in his heart, prevented him from accepting them. If he escaped from these temptations he was ere long exposed to others. His uncle, as we said, was a courtier. Before he was primate he had been arch-chancellor of the kingdom, and had lived in close intimacy with the kings Casimir IV., John Albert, and Alexander. People fancied that the high sphere in which he moved would rescue Alasco from his strange tastes.

The rank of the young Pole, his family connections, his travels, the charm of his character and his handsome person not only procured him admission to the court circle, but made him much sought after. His forehead expressed decision; his eye was clear and keenly observant; his lips, curved and slightly parted, expressed a candid and affectionate nature; a full and elegant beard flowed over his chest. At first the court had some attractions for him. He mixed there with the first society, cultivated men and amiable women; but he soon found that this gay and worldly manner of life was a dissipation to his mind, 444turned him aside from higher things, took up his time, and kept him away from study. The interests, the talk, and the prepossessions of this worldly company stood in marked opposition to the quiet and studious tastes by which he had hitherto been influenced. Sometimes nothing was talked of but Turkish invasions, the dangers impending over Hungary and Austria, the wars, and the deep-seated uneasiness and agitations of Europe. At other times it was pleasure, worldliness, and frivolous conversation, the theatre and the dance, which appeared to take up the whole interest of this brilliant society. Alasco shrank from the risk of being drawn away into vanities by these dangerous attractions. He questioned within himself how it was that these great lords, who were pressing into the palace of the last but one of the Jagellons, who sought after the good graces of princes, and took care not to miss a single feast at court or in the town, took no thought for their eternal warfare. He was not only struck with the passionate eagerness with which they sought after grandeur and pleasure, the pomp of an age which passeth away; but, penetrating more deeply into their minds, he perceived their dissembled hatred, concealed interests, burning jealousies, treacherous intrigues, and divisions ready to break out. He took no pleasure in the air, the tone, or the manner of life which he saw around him. Every one was outwardly as polished as marble, and inwardly as hard. He had some difficulty, nevertheless, in tearing himself away from the claims and the allurements which encircled him. He deeply regretted afterwards having lost in the life of the court time which, if it had been spent in study, would have yielded him so much good.^[657]

A decay of Christian faith was thus experienced by Alasco. When he returned to his native land, he had 445brought there in his heart the precious germ of a new life, still weak indeed, but which would have borne fruit if it had been tenderly fostered. Contact with the world stifled it, as thorns choke the wheat when it begins to form. Alasco wavered while he was at court. He had all kinds of excuses. He said to himself that the illustrious Erasmus did not break with old things, although they did not completely satisfy him; and he wished to imitate him. The evangelical Church appeared to him weak and contemptible, compared with the grandeur of Rome.

One of the causes of his falling away was the reception given him on his arrival in Poland. In some cases it was cold, in others sarcastic, and in several instances angry. All sorts of rumors were in circulation about him at the court, in the town, in the vestry, and the convents. The most bigoted Catholics took advantage of these reports, and went to communicate them to the archbishop. It was asserted that he brought back a wife with him, and of course a heretical wife. His uncle the primate received him with frowns. ‘I am assured, sir,’ said he, ‘that you have married in Germany, and have there given your adhesion to the Lutheran doctrine.’ Alasco was in consternation, and he protested that he had not even had any thought of marrying.^[658] Accustomed to reverence the archbishop both as a father and as primate, he was intimidated, and he strove to vindicate himself by going as far as his conscience permitted him. There was an awakening in his soul, but he had not joined any definite sect; and, with respect to his marriage, it was nothing but a ridiculous fable invented by the priests to ruin him. Of this he so thoroughly convinced his uncle that nothing more was said of it. It was not so, however, with regard to doctrine. The primate was sincerely devoted to the court of Rome. He had attended, in 1513, the fifth General 446Council of the Lateran, had spoken there in the presence of Leo X., and had received for himself and his successors the dignity of legate of the Apostolic See. He had always displayed much zeal as archbishop and prince, and had convoked not less than six provincial synods. Various decrees, canons, and writings bore testimony to his opposition to the Reformation.^[659] Hence, the young Alasco, although Erasmus had characterized him as head of piety, patron of knowledge, model of morality, and bishop of peace, must expect on his part a rigorous surveillance.

The alleged misdeeds of Alasco had made much noise in Poland. The primate could not reconcile himself to the thought of finding a heretic in his nephew. He resolved to subject him to an examination. For this purpose he judged it proper to associate with himself another bishop, so that he might not lay himself open to a charge of too much indulgence. He therefore requested the bishop of Cracow to take part with him in the investigation.^[660]

To Alasco this was the most painful moment of his life. On the one hand, he knew that the evangelical doctors of Basel would have wished to see him openly confess evangelical truth. But, on the other hand, he asked himself whether it was right to go further than his convictions, and whether he could call for a reformation the absolute necessity for which he did not yet acknowledge. By these considerations, which partly originated in respect for men, he was restrained. He did something more than hesitate; he yielded to the influence of his uncle, the light was darkened within him, and the world resumed its sway. Surrounded by zealous partisans of Rome, these men succeeded by their sophistry in persuading him of the necessity of continuance in the unity of the Church.

447Alasco made his appearance before the archbishop and the bishop; and, full of respect for these persons of high dignity, he delivered to them the declaration, in his own handwriting, which his uncle had required of him, introducing into it, however, some reservations.

‘I, John Alasco,’ runs the document, ‘hearing that I have been falsely represented by my enemies as accepting certain suspected dogmas, foreign to the holy Catholic, apostolic, and Roman Church, I think it necessary to declare that, although I have read, with the apostolic permission, many writings of many authors, particularly some writings of those who have separated from the unity of the Church, I have never attached myself to any of their opinions, and I have never embraced knowingly or willingly ^[661] any of their doctrines, especially if I knew that the Roman Catholic Church rejected them. And if through imprudence (we are all men) I have fallen into any error,^[662] which has often happened in the case of the most learned and the most pious persons, I now fully and explicitly renounce it. I sincerely profess that I have no intention of following any sect or doctrine foreign to the unity and the doctrines of the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman Church, that I embrace only what is approved by her, and am willing as long as I live to obey, in all lawful and honest things,^[663] the Holy See and our ordinary prelates and bishops appointed by it.^[664] This I swear, so help me God and His holy Gospel.’

This declaration Alasco signed. It bears date in 1526. It has been generally omitted in the narratives of his life, perhaps because it was considered injurious to him. There was, indeed, a falling back in the spiritual life of the young man. It must not, however, be forgotten 448that he stood at this time not on the pure and steadfast rock of the Gospel, but at the wavering point of view of Erasmus. However this may be, historical fidelity compels us to recall this act of Alasco. As soon as with the heart he believed unto righteousness, he made confession of the Lord with the mouth unto salvation. But what religion Alasco possessed at this period was the fruit of knowledge, not of faith. Now, ‘the seat of faith,’ says Calvin, ‘is not in the brain but in the heart. It is absurd to look for heat and flame where there is no fire.’

Alasco, although he spoke of remaining in the Catholic Church, had not become a superstitious papist. He kept up the most intimate association with Erasmus. Even after his oath, and although the Rotterdam scholar was an object of hatred to many in Poland, Alasco boldly avowed himself his disciple.^[665] He even cherished the hope that his illustrious friend would deliver him from the servitude which he was enduring. One notion haunted him. He believed that, if Erasmus wrote to the King of Poland,^[666] the prince, who was of a noble character and had an enlightened understanding, could not fail to deliver his country from Romish superstition. Alasco therefore urged him to write to Sigismund. ‘He shows so much earnestness about this matter,’ thought Erasmus, ‘that there must be some reasons for doing it.’ He therefore wrote to the king, June 1, 1527, but so far as appears without any great result.^[667]

The primate, satisfied with his nephew’s declaration, made him provost or head of the chapter of his cathedral 449church, præpositus Gnesnensis. This was a first step towards the primacy;^[668] and it was not long before he was invested with other dignities. But these very dignities, which placed him in habitual contact with the Roman clergy and Roman superstitions, made him all the more sensible of the need of reformation, and he was grieved to see that no one thought of such a thing. The more he saw of the indifference and even hostility of his uncle and of the king himself to the pure Gospel, the more he felt the worth of it. The pomps and excitements of the court, the honor and the burden of dignities, appeared to have stifled the new life within him. But no plant which the heavenly Father has planted can be rooted up. On the contrary, the divine plant, under the vivifying influence of the Sun of righteousness, was now growing up in Alasco’s heart. He read the writings of Melanchthon, and particularly his beautiful Apology for the Confession of Augsburg. He entered afterwards into correspondence with that amiable and learned doctor. He also sent some young Poles to study under him at Wittenberg. The discussion on freewill between Erasmus and Luther, the beginning of which he had seen at Basel, interested him deeply. He wrote to Breslau asking that every work on the subject, written either by Luther or by Erasmus, should be sent him.^[669] One fact marks a secret advance in Alasco,—that, whereas he had at first been on the side of Erasmus, he now leaned to Luther’s side. The more progress he made in the knowledge of his own heart and of the Holy Scriptures, the more clearly he saw the abyss which lies between a man’s own righteousness, even in the case of the most moral man, and the perfect holiness of God. He felt that he was incapable of obtaining by 450his own strength the joy of salvation, or even of going to meet the grace which is given by Jesus Christ. God who had called did not abandon him. In the midst of all the seductions which surrounded him, he was brought to place all his hopes and to seek all his strength in the mercy of the Saviour. ‘The grace of God alone has kept me,’ he said; ‘but for that, I should have fallen into all kinds of evil, and no human wisdom would have saved me from it. I should have been the most wretched of men if the divine mercy had not saved me!‘^[670]

In proportion as Alasco attached himself by the strongest ties to the Gospel, the artificial ties which had drawn him back to the Church, and those which had united him to Erasmus, were loosened. He was shocked by this saying of the illustrious writer, ‘that the Gospel in Germany and in Switzerland rested on bad foundations.’ Even in 1527 Erasmus wrote to an Englishman, Cox, that the daily experience which he had had of the character of John Alasco was sufficient to make him happy even though he should have no other friend.^[671] Nevertheless, the continually increasing decision of Alasco chilled the heart of the scholar. The recurrence of the name of the young Pole gradually becomes less frequent in the letters of Erasmus. This coolness must have been painful but useful to Alasco.

Another circumstance contributed to make him stronger and freer in his progress and in the development of his faith. His uncle died in 1531. The primate had exercised over him the authority not only of an official superior but of a father; and the prolongation of his life might have delayed the definitive enfranchisement of his nephew. Nothing was said about making Alasco primate in his stead. He was too young for such an office, and there were too many prejudices against him.

451Alasco does not stand in the first rank of the men of the Reformation. But in one respect he surpassed them all, and this by reason of the state of life in which it pleased God that he should be born. He knew better than any one what it was to sacrifice for Jesus Christ the world with its dignities and its favors; and he did this with a noble courage. No sooner was the bandage, which for some time had been placed over his eyes, removed, than he felt abhorrence of bondage. Nothing in the world could make him bow his head under the yoke; and he became one of the most beautiful examples of moral freedom presented in the sixteenth century. It was evident to him that he must give up the thought of reforming Poland. He saw obstacles increasing, and henceforth acknowledged ‘that wherever the kingdom of Christ begins to appear, it is impossible for Satan to slumber or fail to display immediately his craft and his rage.’^[672] He would fain have conquered his native land for Jesus Christ; but he saw the way barred by fortresses and armies. His position became intolerable. To be surrounded by abuses which dishonor the moral teachings of Jesus Christ and to tolerate them was in his view blasphemy. He would have liked to assail them straightway one after the other, ‘to seize a powerful hammer and crush those stones.’^[673] The office of the true teacher, he thought, was to admonish each one of the duty which he was bound to discharge. But, said he, if the man whom you wish to admonish will not allow you to do so; if he enjoins deference to his own will, is this fulfilling one’s ministry with freedom?^[674] In Poland, he who gave such commands was the king. Now, the motto of Alasco was ‘Liberty.’

452But the greatest temptations were still to come. John Alasco, we have said, had a brother, Yaroslav, who played an important part in the affairs of Hungary. Aware of the obstacles which his brother had to encounter in Poland, and desirous no doubt of keeping him in the church, Yaroslav conceived the project of settling him on the freer soil of Hungary, and he got him appointed, in 1536, bishop of Wesprim.^[675] But Sigismund, on hearing this news, stood upon the point of honor. He had a mind too lofty not to appreciate the fine qualities of Alasco, and he was not willing that such a man should be lost to his kingdom. As he had no doubt that episcopal honors would be a bond to attach him to Rome, he named him bishop of Cujavia. Dignities were showered upon the head of the young disciple of Jesus Christ. Will he yield, like Roussel accepting the bishopric of Oléron? Will he bend the knee before the idol of honor and of power?

The position was a dangerous one. This collation to two bishoprics was a way opened for arriving at the highest dignities. Called by two kings, he might easily rise higher. The influence of kings was powerful in the church. John Alasco was at this time enlightened, and it appears that some extraordinary grace had been given him from on high. The work formerly begun in him had been resumed and even accomplished. ‘God in His goodness,’ said he, ‘has again brought me to myself; and from the midst of the pharisaism in which I was lost, He has recalled me in a marvellous way to His true knowledge. To Him be the glory!‘^[676] He did not hesitate. ‘Brought to my right mind by the goodness of God,’ he says, ‘I will now serve, with what little strength I possess, 453that church of Christ which I hated in the time of my ignorance and my pharisaism.’ He was convinced that he could not serve God while remaining in union with Rome, and was determined to follow the voice of his conscience alone. In the same year, 1536, in which Calvin, at Ferrara, wrote to his old friend Roussel his beautiful letter ^[677] pointing out to him the duty of a Christian man and calling upon him to refuse the favors of the pope, Alasco, at Cracow, was about to take practically the step which the reformer extolled in theory, and not only to refuse the episcopal mitres which were offered him, but also to resign the advantageous and honorable ecclesiastical functions with which he was already invested.

He went to the king, stated to him his convictions, and told him that they prevented his accepting the episcopal charge of Cujavia and that he was going to leave Poland. Sigismund, although regretting his loss, does not appear to have disapproved his plan. The king saw clearly what kind of doctrine it was for which the young man wished to live, and he would rather that he should not profess it within his dominions. He even gave him letters of introduction which were probably never delivered. It was not Alasco’s intention to renounce Poland forever. He hoped that a time would come when he might return and freely proclaim the Gospel there. He tenderly loved his native land, and never settled in any place without imposing the condition that he should be at liberty to return to his own country if he might preach Christ there. As he could not labor for the reformation of Poland by preaching in Poland itself, he labored for it in foreign lands by prayer.

Having returned from the palace, Alasco made preparation for his departure. His heart was stirred by the deepest emotion. He saw what he was going to lose; but he saw also what he had gained in finding Jesus 454Christ. A country in which he was about to serve him appeared more to be desired than all the grandeur and the attractions of his beloved Poland. The splendor of the Gospel had shone in his soul, and the worldly splendors which had formerly dazzled him had now vanished. He felt that even the reputation for nobleness and virtue which Erasmus and others had given him, hindered him from coming to Christ. He acknowledged that there were on earth things of great value; but the knowledge of Christ surpassed in his eyes all that was fairest and greatest in the world. He therefore did as those do who, sailing over the great waters and seeing that their vessel is in danger, cast their goods into the sea, in order that they may come happily into the haven.^[678]

Riches, palaces, honors, ancient and illustrious family, a great future—all these he cast away. He had gained Christ. He wished to be rich only with his grace, and great only with his greatness.

Alasco left Poland in 1537, and undertook a long pilgrimage in foreign lands, consoling himself with the thought that the servants of God have no country on earth, but are seeking a heavenly one. He went first to Mentz, at this time the home of his friend Hardenberg, who took there the degree of doctor in theology. From Mentz he went to Louvain in the Netherlands.

The Reformation had many friends in the Netherlands, and we shall have an opportunity afterwards of seeing this; but they were found, especially at the beginning, among the lowly. The Lollards, the Vaudois, and the Brethren of the Common Life had circulated the Bible and its doctrines there. They gained adherents principally among the weavers and clothiers. True, they had also won over, in the great commercial towns, some very influential merchants; but at Louvain, where Alasco settled for some time, it was chiefly among the little ones that the worshippers of Christ were to be found.

The sojourn of Alasco in this town, in the midst of these Christian people, clearly shows the humility of the Polish noble. He might have received in the Netherlands the honors which he had renounced in Poland. His brother, Ladislaus, ambassador in Austria, his brother Yaroslav, then in high favor with King Ferdinand, could have procured for him a favorable reception at the court of Brussels. He was indeed sought after by eminent men. The chancellor of Ferdinand and the Margrave of Brandenburg made him brilliant offers, if he would enter the service either of the emperor or of the king his brother. But the more the world seemed desirous of seizing upon Alasco, the more he withdrew into a life modest, obscure, and consecrated to God. He now definitively separated from Rome, by placing between them an insurmountable barrier. Determined upon entering the married state, which God established from the beginning of the world, and which the Roman Church itself 456makes a sacrament, he married, at Louvain, a simple young woman, pious and full of sociable qualities.

Ere long Alasco resolved to leave this Ultramontane town. A wish to remove from the court of Brussels, the need of a life humble and hidden with God, which since his fall he deeply felt, was doubtless the principal motive which induced him to leave Louvain. Perhaps he was also desirous of strengthening himself further in the faith before facing persecution. In search of a peaceful retreat, he went into a secluded district on the shores of the North Sea, in East Friesland, and took up his abode in the dull little town of Embden, as if he were determined to bury himself in this gloomy and lonely place. The first stay he made there, of about two years, was a rough time for him. The life he led offered a strange contrast to the luxury of the court of Sigismund. His life was not only outwardly wretched, without any of the comforts and conveniences in the midst of which he had been brought up, but it was drooping and mournful. In those regions bordering on the North Sea, intermittent fevers prevailed, and these reduced him to a state of great weakness. If he read a little it brought on giddiness, if he attempted to write his sight became confused. In the middle of 1540 he said to Hardenberg—‘I am fatigued with writing to you. I have had much difficulty in tracing these few words, although I have devoted myself to it at intervals through the whole day.’^[679] His resources were at this time at a very low ebb, for he was deprived of every thing. He had to avoid even trifling expenses, and offered to sell his library. But these adverse circumstances, far from casting him down, produced in him the excellent fruit of patience. He acknowledged that God transformed for him calamities into ‘aids to salvation,’ and gave him the courage indispensable for enduring the trial with constancy. ‘Glory 457be to God!’ he said to Hardenberg. ‘By these vicissitudes of good and bad health, of life and death, He puts me in mind that He is the master of our whole life, and at the same time a most merciful Father, who does not permit any thing to befall us which is not good.’^[680]

The religious condition of Friesland at this period was very sad. The Reformation had penetrated into the country as early as 1520. Count Edzard having read some of the writings of Luther, had favored it; and Aportanus, preceptor to the young count, had publicly preached the Gospel. But afterwards the work had been thrown back by the disputations on the sacrament and by the pressure by force of arms of the Duke of Guelderland, who was a very earnest Catholic. The adherents of the pope, the zeal of the sects, and the indolence of the pastors, had all contributed to ruin the Evangelical Church in Friesland. The little country had become a battlefield on which the Roman Catholics, the reformed Zwinglians of Holland, the Mennonites of Friesland, and the Lutherans of Germany waged war. It seemed to be a place where all the religious denominations of the age encountered each other, tried their strength and struggled against one another. Many pious souls sighed for peace, and wondered who could restore it to this distressed land. A way was at length revealed to them as by a sudden flash of light. Some of the nobles and magistrates, who bewailed the religious disorders, having heard that Alasco was in the country, and being acquainted with his piety, his attainments in knowledge, and his noble character, requested Count Enno to call him to Embden as preacher and superintendent of the Church in their country. Alasco had promised his brother Yaroslav not to lose sight of Poland, and never to settle in a foreign land so long as Yaroslav was living. Moreover, the language, which he only imperfectly understood, and his uncertain health were serious obstacles

458in the way. His main point, however, was not to engage himself in any work which might detain him at a time when he should receive a call to evangelize his native land. He therefore declined to go, and proposed his friend Hardenberg. But the latter also raised objections; and the count gave up the attempt.

Mournful events were to be the occasion of Alasco’s entrance upon the active duties of the ministry. He received one day a letter from Poland, announcing that his brother Yaroslav was dying, and wished him to go to him immediately. Alasco set out at the end of winter, 1542, and reached the bedside of his dying brother. Yaroslav had been a clever, active man, but withal ambitious, and one that would hesitate at nothing that was necessary for success in his projects, or for avenging himself of his enemies. Here Alasco learnt things which were before partly unknown to him. Zapolya, king of Hungary, after the first successes of his antagonist, King Ferdinand, had fled into Poland. There he had been received at court and had formed a friendship with Yaroslav. ‘Conclude an alliance with the Turks,’ said the latter to Zapolya, ‘and they will restore you your crown. I undertake the negotiation.’ ‘If you recover me Hungary,’ said Zapolya, ‘I will give you Transylvania.’

Solyman did, in fact, arrive at the gates of Vienna, and restored the Hungarian crown to Zapolya. But Yaroslav had dealt with an unthankful man. The king felt uneasy in the presence of one to whom he owed his crown; and instead of giving him Transylvania he threw him into prison. Yaroslav, having soon after obtained his release by legal intervention, swore that he would hurl Zapolya from the throne on which he had re-established him. He then passed over to Ferdinand’s side, fought under his flag in several battles, and next went to Constantinople for the purpose of inducing the sultan to declare against Zapolya. But the party of this prince was still influential in that city. The vindictive Yaroslav 459was imprisoned, and was only liberated after a long confinement. Disgusted with Hungary and Austria, he returned to his native land; but ere long he fell sick there. It is asserted that the partisans of Zapolya, bent on putting an end to a life so restless and so dangerous for their master, had poisoned him at Constantinople. His brother now closed his eyes; and, thus witnessing the sad end of one who had aimed at wearing a crown, he was anew impressed with the lesson that we ought to avoid, as a deadly poison, every thing which we cannot get without sinning against God; and that even in the case of such advantages of the earthly life as may be enjoyed with a good conscience, we must before all things learn, like Moses, to esteem ‘the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt.’^[681]

During his sojourn in Poland, Alasco was on good terms with his fellow-countrymen, and stood also in intimate relations with the bishop. He appears to have had some thought of getting his friend Hardenberg called into Poland. ‘You would smile,’ he wrote to him on May 12, 1542, ‘if you knew what I have been doing with our bishops while in my native country.’^[682] As for himself, he went modestly back to Friesland; and soon after his return his health improved. The journey seemed to have done him good. He was animated with fresh zeal. Hardenberg was at this time in the cloisters of the Bernardines at Aduwert, in the province of Groningen, where he seemed to wish to shut himself up. Alasco, cherishing the highest esteem for his friend, did every thing that was in his power to draw him out of the monastery; convinced that this Christian man, endowed with a most amiable disposition, a most excellent understanding, and the most profound knowledge—a kinsman, according to common report, of Pope Adrian—was called to play an important part in the religious renovation of the age. 460This was in fact the case at a later day. But the Cistercian monk, although awakened by the quickening spirit which then breathed in the Church, remained still tied to his institution and to the rites of which he acknowledged the abuse. He was one of those timid souls who can not make up their minds to break their chains. He had, however, received some emphatic lessons which ought to have made him understand the impossibility of living with Rome. When in 1530 he made a stay at Louvain, the theologians of the university denounced him at the court of Brussels as infected with heresy. He was even on the point of being seized and taken to the capital, when the students and the townsmen rescued him from the hands of the inquisitors, and he escaped. They confined themselves to rigorous treatment of his writings. Hardenberg, instead of retiring to Wittenberg or some other Protestant city, took refuge in his convent of Aduwert, where the tolerant abbot placed him in the rank of a professor in the school. His conscience admonished him that he ought to quit the monastic life; but he was enveloped in the powerful bonds with which Rome holds souls in captivity. He tried very hard to convince himself that he need not go forth from the Roman community. He believed that it was possible for him to cease to be a superstitious papist and yet remain a pious Catholic. But sharp pangs of distress tortured him, and he had to sustain terrible conflicts. ‘I am overwhelmed with shame,’ he wrote to Alasco, ‘with grief and sadness; and the wretchedness which I experience keeps me in a state of perpetual torture.’^[683] Afterwards he recovered himself and wrote to Alasco: ‘But I can, I am sure, justify before Christ the motives of my conduct.’ ‘What!’ replied his friend, ‘thou art at peace with Christ, and yet with me thou art full of shame and 461distress.... Am I then greater than He? No, he who has his rest sanctified in Jesus Christ will not find it disturbed by men.^[684] Since thou art tossed to and fro by so many conflicting thoughts, I am very much afraid, my dear Albert, that thou art farther off from the peace of God than thou seemest to be. What! thou art in doubt whether the life which thou art leading in the cloister is a blasphemy; but as for those absurd errors which thou perceivest in the worship in which thou takest part and which are dishonoring to the merits of Christ, are they not blasphemies?... Thou sayest that one Babylon is as good as another, and that thou mayest as well stay in thy convent as come to us. This comparison is unjust. We have among us no idols; but as for you, you venerate, by offering public worship to it as if it were God, that abomination whose minister you are.^[685] ... If there be still any idols with us, they are laid aside in contempt and neglect. Thou art waiting, sayest thou, for a leading of the Spirit. But what kind of leading? I do not know. Is it not the Spirit of God who says—“Come out from among them and be ye separate.” My dear Albert, I love thee, but I do not like thy indecision.’

It was in vain that Alasco thus earnestly appealed to Hardenberg. The monk clung to the bars of his cloister, and seemed, by the aid of his monks, to defy every effort. But Christ at length set him free. His advance in the knowledge of the Gospel did what the persuasions of his friend had failed to do. In 1543 he quitted the monastery, and betook himself to Wittenberg, where the reformers gave him the most brotherly welcome.

Count Enno was now dead. His wife, Countess Anna of Oldenburg, became regent of Friesland. She was a woman of noble character, pious but rather feeble. She 462called Alasco to undertake the direction of the churches of the country. The Pole had by this time got accustomed to the climate and had learned the language; and, as his brother was dead, he was set free from the promise which he had made to him. In reply to the countess he therefore said, ‘I accept your proposal, but on this condition—that if ever I am called into Poland for the cause of the Gospel, I shall be at liberty to go there.’^[686] The countess agreed to this condition; and all those who had at heart the prosperity of religion and of the country were filled with joy. Alasco lost no time in writing to his friends of the whole affair. ‘Explain to the king,’ said he, ‘that although I have accepted a ministerial office here, I am free at any time, if he should recall me, to return to my native land.’ In Poland people fancied that he was inclined to come back whatever might be the nature of the work to which he was called. He therefore received royal letters inviting him to return, and holding out to him the hope of some great bishopric.^[687] These letters deeply grieved him. His heart was greatly pained. It was not the king alone who thus misunderstood him; his relations and friends did the same. ‘What,’ said he, ‘they would fain have me again enter upon my old way of life, the pharisaic way. It is asking me to return to my vomit.’ He immediately replied: ‘I will have no apostleship invested with the bishop’s tiara or the monk’s cowl.^[688] My return is not to be thought of, except it be for some legitimate vocation.’ Language so decided cooled his friends; nor did they write to him again for some time.

Alasco now applied himself to the work which was allotted to him in Friesland. The Reformation, it was 463said, was in need of the file.^[689] Exorcism and other superstitious rites were not yet abrogated. Various questions about the sacraments were disturbing men’s minds. A great number of sectaries had taken refuge in the country; and many of the courtiers led a dissolute life, caring least of all about religion. Alasco displayed admirable prudence, zeal, moderation, and steadfastness, and thereby excited the more violent discontent. Those whom he aimed at putting right began to calumniate him. Some said—‘He is an anabaptist;’ others—‘he is a sacramentarian.’ The countess herself having vindicated him, they adopted another course for ruining him. They stirred up the monks against him, which was not a difficult matter. These men appealed to higher powers than Countess Anna. They carried their accusations against the new superintendent to the court of the Netherlands, and this was in fact denouncing him to the emperor. ‘He is a perjurer and a disturber,’ they said. Ere long the countess received an order from Brussels to take severe measures against the firebrand. The order fell upon Friesland like a hurricane. ‘Dost thou hear the growl of the thunder?’ said Alasco.^[690] His friends were alarmed. The scenes which he had witnessed at Louvain, the burning of men, the burying alive of women, by order of the same government, were, perhaps, now going to be repeated. Alasco, however, remained calm, and the Divine goodness protected him.^[691] He appeared before the princes and the higher orders of the state, and, having asserted his innocence, was informed that there was no intention of depriving him of his ministry.

He was nevertheless still threatened with great dangers. The government of the Netherlands was not inclined to relinquish its proceedings. It was incensed against a man who had rejected the flattering offers 464made to him at Brussels, to undertake in Friesland a work so offensive to the fanaticism of that court. If Protestantism were to be established in this country, the Protestants of the Netherlands might find there support and a place of refuge. This was not all. John of Falkenberg, brother of the late Count Enno, at first thoroughly devoted to the Reformation, married, at Brussels, Dorothea of Austria, a natural daughter of Maximilian and aunt of Charles the Fifth. Thenceforth, this Frisian prince became an ardent adherent of Rome, and labored with all his might to exclude Alasco and the Gospel from Friesland.^[692] Alasco saw the clouds getting heavy and the waves swelling, but he remained calm. ‘I know not yet to what conflicts I shall be called,’ he wrote to Bullinger, ‘but I am sure they will not stop till they have driven me away. This is not all. The sectaries on one side, and false brethren on the other, are causing trouble everywhere; but I look upon all these tribulations as convincing evidence that I am a minister of Christ—of Christ, against whom the world and the devil point all their warlike engines. I thank God, our Father, through Jesus Christ, my deliverer, that my faith is exercised by these trials; and I beseech Him to give me with the trials the courage I have need of, that I may show forth his glory whether by my life or by my death. I may expect fresh thunders from the court of Brabant, but God is mightier than they. It is in Him that I have believed, and it is also to Him that I entirely commit myself at this time.’^[693]

Without delay he put his hand boldly to the work, and endeavored to clear the country of the last vestiges of the domination of the Pope. The tide as it ebbed had left there images and monks. Some minds placed between old things and new wavered between Rome and the Gospel. 465Others, more attached to the traditions, said, ‘Do what you will, so long as we have the monks and the images, the Roman Church subsists among us.’ The Franciscans of Embden, it is true, no longer said mass; but they displayed great activity in the endeavor to regain the ground which they had lost. They preached, baptized, administered extreme unction, paid visits, and drew up wills by the bedside of sick persons. A decree of the government, which groped along the border-line of freedom and intolerance, enjoined them to appear before the superintendent who would examine into their knowledge and their faith, and would give or refuse them authority to preach and to administer the sacraments. The monks were indignant. ‘We have nothing to do,’ they said, ‘with any superintendent, and least of all with this foreigner and his long beard.’ Alasco offered them a conference for the discussion of the principal points in controversy between them. ‘Any thing but that,’ they answered. And they bestirred themselves to raise up discontent and murmurings against the reformer. ‘If we keep him in this country,’ they said, ‘great dangers impend over us. The wrath of Count John and of the emperor will burst forth against us. Who can withstand them?’

The countess and her advisers took alarm at this argument. What were they in comparison with the formidable Charles the Fifth? Their zeal was cooled. They began to wish that some event might rid them of a man who compromised them in such high quarters. Alasco perceived that the countess after having set her hand to the plough was looking back. He saw that the moment was critical, and that if the Reformation was not to be suppressed in Friesland, he must be quick to ward off the stroke of the enemy. It is not to be expected that a man of the sixteenth century would act on the principles of the nineteenth. Alasco, a man of resolute spirit, appealed to the princess herself, and wrote to her the following 466beautiful letter—‘I know, Madam, that you are desirous of promoting among your subjects the glory of Jesus Christ. But you err in two respects. You too readily comply with either party in matters of religion. This is one fault. You act in conformity with the wishes of those about you rather than with the will of God. This is the second. It is not your own salvation alone which is at stake, but that of many churches confided to the care of you and me, of which you will have to give account to the eternal Judge. It is a magnificent destiny to be a prince; but on this condition, that you seek the glory of God.... The monks are guilty of idolatry, and they are its ministers. They lead astray many of your subjects who offer to idols a forbidden worship. We cannot endure this. It is commanded us to flee from idolatry. Put away therefore the idols, and remove their ministers from the midst of us. How long shall we go on trying to please at once both God and the world? If God is our master, why not follow Him resolutely? If He is not, what need have you of me as his minister? I am ready not only to spend my property in the service of the Church, but to give my life for the glory of Christ, if only you will consent to be governed by the Word. If you will not do this, I cannot promise you my services as a minister. Be sure, I understand how useful the esteem of men is, and especially of those whose favor is of so much importance. I am only a foreigner, burdened with a family and having no home. I wish therefore to be friends with all, but ... as far as to the altar. This barrier I cannot pass, even if I had to reduce my family to beggary.^[694] He who sustains all flesh will also sustain my dear ones, even though I should leave them 467no resources. Never, Madam, would I have said these things to you, did I not know your piety and your goodness. But I should betray the cause of truth, if I did not say them to you. It is better to be unpolite than unfaithful. May God give his Holy Spirit to guide your counsels.

Such was the noble letter written by Alasco to the Princess Anna of Friesland. She appreciated the piety and the freedom of his words, and replied to him with much kindliness. She told him that she would give orders for the removal of the images, but that it must be done gradually, without noise, and by persons duly authorized, keeping the ignorant populace from interfering in the proceeding. The work was begun, but went on very slowly, so that the measure adopted in August had made little progress in November.

At this crisis, arrived Count John, the husband of Dorothea of Austria. This noble man, earnestly devoted to the Romish system, was immediately beset by the monks. Greatly provoked by the reforms which he saw in process of accomplishment in Friesland, he laid before the countess all the grievances of the monks and said to her, ‘It is absolutely essential that you should banish this man.’ But the reformer vindicated himself with so much force and truth that the count was shaken; and when the countess said positively, ‘I can not do without Alasco,’ John gave way. This victory hastened on the Reformation. All public worship was forbidden to the monks; nor were they allowed to maintain any intercourse with members of the Church calculated to turn them aside from the obedience due to the Word of God. They were allowed to live at peace in their convent; but public services of the Roman Church were even there forbidden. Gradually they took their departure. In the same way images disappeared. Alasco, a moderate man, did not think it his duty to precipitate reform. 468He labored for it persistently and prudently; and notwithstanding this slowness it made progress. He believed—and this feature distinguished him from some reformers—that a Christian is likely to succeed as well, and even better, by gentleness than by rashness.

This patience was not idleness. Various sects, banished from the Netherlands and other districts of Germany, had taken refuge in Friesland, where they found freedom. The Brussels government called upon the countess to expel them. The princess and her advisers were quite inclined to do so without further inquiry, but Alasco opposed this. He conceived an excellent plan of action, but one very difficult to execute. He would have liked to unite the different Protestant parties in a single body, comprehending therein even the smallest sects. ‘You have permitted,’ said he, ‘these strangers to settle among your people, and we can not now, just to please those who pursue them, drive them away without any form of trial. Let us examine first what they are. An error of the understanding does not render a man liable to punishment; but guilty intentions alone.’ The countess requested him to make such an examination as he suggested. Alasco then, actuated by a generous longing for unity and freedom, applied himself to the task; but he soon found himself involved in a conflict with a great number of differing opinions, often irreconcilable, and had to maintain a sad struggle with grave errors. One man among them all appeared to him to be sincerely pious, and to set before himself a really praiseworthy object. This was Menno. Alasco invited him to a religious conference which turned upon the subjects of the ministry, the baptism of children, and the incarnation of the Son of God. It was chiefly this last point with which he concerned himself. Menno taught a fantastical doctrine. 469He believed that the birth of Jesus had been only in appearance, that He had not received from the Virgin Mary his flesh and blood, but had brought them from heaven. Alasco did not confine himself to a vivâ voce opposition to this Gnostic dogma; but wrote a treatise ^[695] on the subject. Menno having put forward several other opinions which were peculiar to himself, Alasco admitted that it was impossible to attach him to the great evangelical body; but at the same time he did not ask for his expulsion.^[696]

Another divine, a far less estimable man than Menno, not only holding fantastic notions, but also leading an immoral life, next appeared before him. His name was David Joris (or George); and he was a native of Delft in Holland. His father was a conjuror who, as well as his wife, used to play off juggling tricks at fairs and markets. The young David, endowed with an original and even profound intellect, remarkably clever and of lively imagination, was at the same time filled with ambition and vanity. He learnt the business of painting on glass; but on Sundays and festival days he used to join his parents and amuse the spectators with his legerdemain. This doubtless had a bad effect on him. He afterwards heard the evangelical doctrine preached, and fastened upon it, but not without admixture. He saw in it, not a means of salvation in heaven, but a means of being great here below; and discontented with his modest calling he aspired to become head of a sect. Joris composed treatises and hymns, preached, gained adherents and baptized them. He was prosecuted in several towns of Holland, wandered to and fro under various disguises, and at last arrived in East Friesland. Here his ardor obtained him some disciples. ‘The doctrine announced by the prophets,’ said he, ‘and even by Jesus Christ, is 470not perfection. The Pentecostal spirit led man forward indeed, but only brought him to the age of youth. Another spirit was needed for the development of a grown man, and this spirit is in the Christ David (Joris). I am the first-born of the regenerate, the new man of God, the Christ according to the Spirit. It is necessary to believe unreservedly in me. This faith will bring the man who possesses it to perfect freedom, and he will find himself above all law, all sin, and all compulsion.’ Alasco, when he heard these strange pretensions, said to him, ‘Prove to us by the testimony of the Word of God that this vocation belongs to you. Many churches have been troubled by men who, like you, arrogated for themselves a divine mission; and it is to pretensions of this sort that we owe the tyranny of the pope and of Mohammed.’^[697]

David replied in the style of an infallible doctor. He told Alasco that he would communicate to him his Book of Miracle,^[698] that this book would show him how he, David, surpassed him in the knowledge of the truth, and that he would give himself up to be led by it to the highest knowledge of God. Alasco replied that it was impossible for him to admit his infallibility.^[699] ‘In spiritual things,’ he added, ‘the Word of God alone has any worth for me. I shut my eyes to all besides. May the Lord govern me and keep me for his glory by the true sceptre of his royalty.’

Joris quitted Friesland and betook himself to Basel. There he assumed fictitious names, continued to direct his partisans in the north, who sent him a good deal of money, and fared well and lived licentiously. It was discovered after his death that this wretched man had several illegitimate children. The men of Basel, alarmed 471at having had such a man among them, testified their abhorrence of his memory in the most energetic manner.^[700]

Alasco, in the midst of these struggles, was diligent in the work of the ministry. He explained the Holy Scriptures from the pulpit; but, while he usually conformed to received customs, he allowed much freedom in the outward arrangements of the service, because he feared that uniformity would lull men’s minds to sleep, and that from too rigorous adherence to this mode, or that rite, or such a vestment, there would soon arise a new papacy. He therefore considered it desirable that from time to time there should be some variety and change. The main point, in his view, was the preaching of the Word of God. ‘Let us beware,’ he said, ‘of letting our attention be distracted by a multitude of ceremonies.’ There was, however, one matter to which he attached higher importance. He desired that the life of Christians should be conformed to their profession. ‘What,’ said he, ‘are we to contend against errors without, and at the same time allow license to be established in our own houses, and while we are severe towards others are we to be indulgent to our own irregularities?‘^[701] He therefore appointed in the church at Embden four elders, grave and pious men, who in the name of the whole church were to watch over good morals. Finally, not wishing the government of the Church to be in the hands of a prince or a magistrate, or even of national consistories established in various places, he entrusted this office to what he called the Cœtus, the assembly of the pastors. His error was the non-admission to it of the elders. This institution, however, contributed to promote unity in sound doctrine, harmony of life and faith, and a good theological culture. Brotherly conferences were held in which 472were made mutual exhortations to sanctification. The necessities of the flock were investigated and the means of providing for them. The life of candidates, both inward and outward, engaged their attention; and many of the members of the Cœtus said that they had learnt more in it than at the university.^[702]

Alasco, who with regard to literature was a follower of Erasmus, with regard to worship a follower of Zwinglius, and with regard to discipline, the constitution of the Church, and the sacraments, a follower of Calvin, was, with regard to the doctrine of grace, rather a follower of Melanchthon. In 1544 he wrote an Epitome of the doctrine of the churches of East Friesland. He sent this to Hardenberg, requesting him to communicate it to Bucer at Strasburg and to Bullinger at Zurich.^[703] He firmly believed that an eternal counsel of God controls all history; that Christ is the central point of Christianity, and that apart from him there is no salvation. ‘But God,’ he said, ‘so far as it rests with him, shuts out no one from his mercy. Christ, by his holy death, has expiated the sins of the whole world. If a man be lost, it is not because God created him for the purpose of suffering everlasting punishment, but because he has voluntarily despised the grace of God in Jesus Christ.... God is the Saviour of us all, the most loving Father of all, most merciful to all, most pitiful for all. Let us then implore his mercy through Him to whom nothing can be refused, to wit, Jesus Christ.’^[704] Some persons, bound to system, having accused Alasco to Calvin on account of this doctrine, the latter would not listen to these denunciations; 473and the brotherly affection of the two reformers was not in the least interrupted.

It was not so in Friesland. Alasco encountered a sharp opposition on the part of some of his colleagues and some of the magistrates. At the same time, disorders prevailed and fatal opinions were spreading in the country. Once more Alasco appealed to the princess. ‘The monks and their idolatry still hold their ground, ecclesiastical discipline is destroyed, and so much indulgence is shown for licentiousness, that if any man lead a sober life, he might on this ground be called a sectary. Nor is this all. The country is again the receptacle of the strangest doctrines, and, after having waged war on the gnats, we are now giving food to wasps and hornets, and are allowing ravens to croak at their leisure.’^[705]

Alasco, perhaps, aspired to a perfection which is not attainable in this world. Struck with the divine element, he did not sufficiently apprehend the influence of the human element in the things of this life. Finding that his endeavors to purify the Church were useless, he could not endure the responsibility imposed on him by his episcopal office. He thought it burden enough to be responsible for his own errors, without being also responsible for the faults of others. He therefore resigned his office of superintendent, while retaining that of preacher. This failure to achieve complete success did not, however, at all abate the energy of his zeal. Faith had created within him a moral force which could not decay. The princess having entreated him to resume his office, he laid down certain conditions. He would be amenable only to God and his Word. He could not endure that men of the world should come and intrude themselves 474in his path. He required to be guaranteed against interference of the magistrates in the internal affairs of the Church, and against disturbance by pastors who would interrupt its unity.^[706]

This was conceded; and he now resumed his work courageously. But the old trials were followed by fresh ones. Count John and most of the courtiers could not endure the seriousness of his character and his desire to see the prevalence of order in the Church. His enemies reproached him for protecting dangerous sectaries, perhaps because he contended against them only by the word, and had no wish to proceed against them by imprisonment or banishment. Other trials fell upon him. He was again afflicted with fever and even threatened with loss of sight. One of his children, little Paul, was taken from him. His heart was broken by this loss. ‘Every thing makes me feel,’ he said, ‘that this earthly dwelling is about to be destroyed, and that soon (so I hope) we shall be in the Father’s house, with Christ. Our dear little one has gone before us, and we shall soon follow him.’^[707]

These mournful events made him feel a longing for a more quiet life. He sighed for some retreat in which he might pray at peace, while applying himself diligently to the work of his ministry. He bought a house in the country, with land adjoining, and in it he invested almost all his property. In this situation he had some rural occupations. He was busied about his house, and also a little about his fields; and it was a joy to him to be in the midst of the works of God. He was a good father and, according to the injunction addressed to bishops by St. Paul, he endeavored to bring up his children in all purity and modesty. His wife managed the house affairs, milked the cows, and made the butter. But Alasco did not forget the main point. In his view the most indispensable 475condition for the prosperity of his own personal piety and for the success in his pastoral functions was the diligent study of the Holy Scriptures. He carried on correspondence with Melanchthon, Bucer, Bullinger, and others. He studied the works of Calvin, whom he highly esteemed, although there was some difference in their opinions. He was a large-hearted man. We do not find, however, that he wrote to Calvin before the year 1548.^[708]

His residence in the country by no means lessened his active exertions; it appears, on the contrary, to have extended them. We find his influence operative in West Friesland, where it was diffused both by the ministry of the pastors of those districts who had taken refuge at Embden, and by himself personally. He appears to have visited Franeker and other towns. Far from narrowing his sphere of action, he enlarged it. He devoted attention to every thing steadfastly and prudently. In his case was demonstrated the truth that he who has an acquaintance with the common life of men and practice in conducting worldly business is so much the more qualified for guiding the Church of God.

It is possible that Alasco may have found in West Friesland some unexpectedly favorable conditions. If credit is to be given to authentic documents, a man who has always passed for a persecutor, and who held an important position in the government of the Netherlands, 476at this time secretly favored the Reformation of Friesland. This was the celebrated Viglius of Zuychem, a man endowed with great talents and a distinguished jurisconsult, who had studied first at Franeker, and afterwards in the universities of the Netherlands, France, and Italy. Viglius is so famous, so well known for the ability which he displayed in opposition to the Reformation that we can not refrain from lifting the veil for the purpose of disclosing one side of his history which is very little known. He is a striking example of a class of men too numerous in the sixteenth century. His mind was not devoid of liberal tendencies, and in his heart was some leaning to the religion of the Gospel. But he saw that under Charles the Fifth he could secure his position and retain the high honors with which he was loaded only by siding with those who opposed the light and the Gospel. This, therefore, he did. Like Alasco, he was indebted to Erasmus for his first impressions. While still a young boy, he was an enthusiastic admirer of the learned Dutchman, his fellow-countryman. ‘From my childhood,’ he wrote to Erasmus in March, 1529, ‘my feelings toward you have been of such a nature that in my studies I had never felt a more powerful stimulus than the thought of making such progress as would warrant the hope of my winning your kindly regard.’^[709] Afterwards, even before he made the personal acquaintance of Erasmus, he took his part against those who assailed him. ‘I am desirous,’ he wrote, ‘that you should know the great love I cherish for you, and that I am ready vigorously to repel the rage of shameless and perverse men who assailed you, and thus to protect a peaceful leisure which you employ in the most useful studies.’ Erasmus, on his part, was charmed with what he called the easy and amiable disposition of Viglius; and he added that he had 477found in his letters powerful enchantments which had completely won his heart. With respect to the attacks of which the young man had spoken, he said, ‘Alas! it is my destiny to be engaged in a perpetual conflict with the whole phalanx of sham monks and sham theologians, monsters so frightful and so dangerous that it was certainly easier for Hercules to contend with Cacus, Cerberus, the Nemean lion, and the hydra of Lernæ. As for you, my dear young friend,’ he added, ‘consider by what means it may be possible for you to obtain praise without hatred.’^[710] Unfortunately Viglius followed his advice too well, or at least allowed himself in following it to be led into acts of culpable cowardice.

While still imbued with elevated sentiments, the young Frisian at first avoided making any engagement with Charles the Fifth, with whose cruel policy he was too well acquainted. He refused several offers of this prince, and particularly an invitation to take charge of the education of his son Philip; but ambition ultimately gained the ascendency. As an eminent jurisconsult, Viglius entered in 1542 into the great council of Mechlin, of which in the following year he was named president. The emperor next made him president of the privy council at Brussels and head of the order of the Golden Fleece. From the time that he accepted these offices, the enthusiastic disciple of Erasmus saw the beginning of a conflict in his inner life which seems to have ended only with his death. On the one side, he declared boldly against freedom of conscience and against heresy, things which he regarded as the ruin of nations. He even went so far as to call those atheists who desired to be free in their faith. But if he thus satisfied Charles the Fifth and his ministers, he was unable entirely to stifle the best aspirations of his youth; and he secretly showed for the Protestants a tolerance which was quite contrary 478to his principles. He was accused; and the government of the Netherlands, having received orders to get precise information about him, requested, with the utmost secrecy and under the seal of an oath, a churchman and a man of letters, whose names have not been divulged, to state what they knew respecting him.^[711] The report made by these priests presents a strange contrast to the judgment of history on this man. ‘Viglius is accused,’ said these two anonymous reporters, ‘of having been from his youth greatly suspected of heresy, and chiefly of the heresy of Luther; of having been and of still being reputed a heretic, not only in the Netherlands, but in France, Italy, and Germany; of having associated only with heretics, as, for example, those of Augsburg, Basel, and Würtemberg; of having given promotion, since his elevation to the post which he fills, only to men of the same character; of having caused the nomination, as councillor to the Imperial chamber, of Albada, who had resigned his office of councillor in Friesland because he would not consent to the punishment of Anabaptists, Calvinists, and other sectaries; of having introduced into the university of Douai, for the purpose of exercising jurisdiction over churchmen, lay and married rectors; of having lavishly conferred offices upon his brothers, kinsmen, and friends in Friesland, all of them tainted and infected with heresy; and of many other things of the like kind.’^[712]

In quoting this passage, we do not profess to reform the judgment of history; but only to show what sometimes lay hidden under the rude and menacing manners of the councillors of Charles the Fifth.

The testimony of the two priests astonished the duchess of Parma. ‘With me,’ she said, ‘the president has 479always appeared to be a good Catholic.’ Was Viglius then secretly a follower of Luther? By no means. But he cherished some of the liberal notions of his illustrious fellow-countryman, Erasmus, and even felt some regard for the Reformation. When he was censured for having taken part in drawing up the persecuting edicts of 1530, he denied the charge, and asserted that he had done all he could to induce the emperor to mitigate their severity. A priest, who is not suspected of partiality for Protestants, has said of Viglius—‘This great man used his influence to moderate the harshness of the duke of Alva by milder counsels.’^[713] Viglius, while a thorough Roman Catholic in his speeches, was less so in his deeds, when he could be so without risking the loss of the favor of princes. He was not a hypocrite in virtue, as so many are; he was a hypocrite in fanaticism. But fanaticism then passed for a virtue, and secured him wonderful advantages.

What a contrast between the two men whose names were at this time so widely known in the two Frieslands! The influence of Alasco was not confined to these countries. On the banks of the Rhine he took part, in conjunction with his friend Hardenberg, in the attempts at reform in the diocese of Cologne. The time was, however, soon to arrive when he would find himself compelled to leave Friesland, and would be removed to a larger sphere, to labor there, in the midst of distinguished men, at the work of the Reformation.

The Reformation was Catholic or universal in the sense that it appeared in all the nations of Christendom. It gained, undoubtedly, the most powerful hold on the sympathy of the northern nations. But the peoples of central Europe would all have welcomed it but for the persecutions by princes and priests. In the south it achieved the most beautiful conquests, and had its martyrs even in Rome. Our task is to follow up its traces in every direction.

It was in the Netherlands that the first echo of Luther’s voice was heard. There dwelt a people who had been free since the eleventh century. Each of the provinces had its States, without whose consent no law was made, no tax imposed. The love of freedom and the love of the Gospel together actuated these interesting communities in the first half of the sixteenth century, and both contributed to their glorious revolution.

Other elements, however, had their share in the great movements of this people. Agriculture, which had been called ‘the foundation of human life,’ was thriving there in the midst of numerous canals. The mechanical arts were held in honor. Everywhere throughout these provinces hands and bodies were in motion. They were animated by an inventive spirit; and Brussels was already renowned for its carpets. The Netherlands had risen into importance by bold ventures upon the seas, and their innumerable seamen exchanged their productions with all the known world. Commerce and industry had 481given to these regions great prosperity, and had created rich and powerful towns. In the sixteenth century, they contained above three hundred and fifty great cities.^[714] At the head of these stood Antwerp, a vast market of the world, thronged by merchants of all nations, and having a population of 100,000—only 50,000 less than that of London.

The suzerainty of the Netherlands had passed in 1477 from the house of Burgundy to that of Austria. Under Maximilian the people had retained the full enjoyment of their liberties. Charles the Fifth, who was by birth a Fleming, loved his native country and enjoyed from time to time making some stay in it. The joyous festivals of the Belgian cities lightened his cares. He appointed Flemings to high offices; opened for their commerce numerous channels in his vast empire; and everywhere protected transactions which were so profitable to himself. Those generous merchants, indeed, did not hesitate to testify their gratitude to the emperor by rich tribute. But the ambition of the monarch ere long began to disturb these agreeable relations. Fond of power, Charles the Fifth did not intend to be satisfied with the modest functions of a stadtholder. He aimed at making of all these republics a single kingdom, of which he would be absolute sovereign. The citizens of these free provinces were no less determined to maintain their rights. The Reformation came in to double their energies; and the land became the scene of long-continued and cruel conflicts. The Church in the sixteenth century was indeed to the Belgians and the Dutch the Church under the cross. Other reformed countries—France, Hungary, Spain, and Italy—had their share in the martyrs’ crown. But the Netherlands, groaning under the treacherous blows of a Philip II. and a duke of Alva, have a title to the brightest jewels of that crown.

482The Catholicism of the Netherlands was not at this time a fanatical system of religion. The cheerful-hearted people were especially fond of indulgences, pictures, and festivals; but the majority had not even this amount of piety. ‘Preaching was rare,’ says an old author, ‘the churches were poorly attended, the feast-days and holidays ill observed; the people ignorant of religion, not instructed in the articles of faith. There were many comic actors, corrupt in morals and religion, in whose performances the people delighted; and some poor monks and young nuns always took part in the plays. It seemed as if people could not take their pleasure without indulging in mockery of God and the Church.’^[715]

Nevertheless, the civil liberty enjoyed in the Netherlands had for a long time been favorable to reforming tendencies. If there was not much religion within the Church, there was a good deal outside its pale. The Lollards and the Vaudois, who were numerous among the weavers and clothiers, had sown in these regions the good seed of the Word. In the Church likewise, the Brethren of the common life, founded by Gerard Groot in the fourteenth century, had diffused instruction, so that every one could read and write. In no quarter had forerunners of the Reformation been more numerous. Jan van Goch had called for a reform according to the Bible. Thomas à Kempis, sick of the devotional practices which then made up religion, had sought after an inward light which might bring with it life. Erasmus of Rotterdam, king of the schools, had diffused knowledge which was not in itself the Reformation, but was a preparation for it. Johan Wessel, born at Groningen in 1419, had preached Christ as alone the way, the truth, and the life. At length, among the wealthy merchants and other laymen, men were to be met with who had a certain knowledge of the Gospel. This people, more enlightened, 483more civilized, and more free than most of the European nations, could not fail to be one of the first to accept this precious reformation of the Church, so congenial to its own character, and so well adapted to increase its greatness.^[716]

It was at Antwerp that the fire first blazed forth. In the convent of the Augustine order there was a simple, sensitive, and affectionate man, who, although not a German, was one of the first to be impressed by the preaching of Luther. He had been a student at Wittenberg, had heard the great doctor, and had been attracted at the same time both by the sweetness of the Gospel and by the pleasing character of the man who proclaimed it. It was the prior, Jacob Spreng, commonly called Probst (provost), after the name of his office. He had not the heroic courage of his master, nor would he have made at Worms such an energetic declaration. But he was filled with admiration for Luther; and when any daring deed of the reformer was made known and the monks talked of it with one another, he used to say, lifting up his head, ‘I have been a disciple of his.’ He gloried in it, as if he, a feeble and timid man, had a share in the heroism of his master. Then unable to repress the affectionate feeling that filled his heart, he added, ‘I love him ardently; I love him above every thing.’^[717]

At the outset of his career, the reformer was looked upon, not as a heretic, but as a monk of genius. Consequently the monks, filled with admiration, regarded their chief with respect. The Word of God which the professor Ad Biblia expounded at Wittenberg had entered into the heart of Spreng; and while the Antwerp priests 484were preaching nothing but fables, he proclaimed Christ.^[718] Some of the monks and several inhabitants of the town were converted to God by the reformer’s disciple.

It was likewise through Luther’s influence that the light reached the university town of Louvain. Some of the shorter writings of this reformer, printed at Basel in 1518, were read at Louvain in 1519. A storm immediately burst forth. The theologians of the university put forth all their efforts against the book, prohibited booksellers from selling it and the faithful from reading it; but the latter courageously defended the writings and their author.^[719] ‘’Tis heresy!’ exclaimed the theologians. ‘Not so,’ replied the townsmen, ‘it is a doctrine really Christian.’^[720] Increasing in number day by day, they determined to judge for themselves, read the books, and were convinced. The theologians were more angry than ever. Disparagement, falsehood, imposture, craft, and every available means were resorted to by them. They ascended the pulpit, and exclaimed in tones of thunder ‘These people are heretics; they are antichrists; the Christian faith is in danger.’ They occasioned in houses and in families astonishing tragedies.^[721]

It was not Luther’s writings and influence alone which began the work of the Reformation in the Netherlands. Brought into contact by their commerce with all the countries of Europe, they received from them, not only things salable for money, but in addition and without money that which Christianity calls the pearl of great price. Foreigners of every class, both residents and travellers, merchants, German and Swiss soldiers, students from various universities, everywhere scattered on a well-prepared soil the living seed. It was to the conscience 485that the Gospel appealed; and thus it struck its roots deeper than if it had only spoken to the reasoning faculty, or to an imagination fantastic and prone to superstition. One man especially contributed, not to the establishment, but to the preparation of the Reformation.

Erasmus was at this time at Louvain. Some of the monks went to him and accused him of being an accomplice of Luther. ‘I,’ he replied—‘I do not know him, any more than the most unknown of men. I have hardly read more than a page or two of his books.^[722] If he has written well, it is no credit to me; and if ill no disgrace. All I know is that the purity of his life is such that his enemies themselves find nothing in it to reproach.’ In vain Erasmus spoke thus. Day by day the Dominicans in their discourses ^[723] threw stones at him and at Luther; but they did this so stupidly that even the most ignorant people said that it was the monks who were wrong and not Luther. The theologians, perceiving the state of things, published on the 7th of November, 1519, a bull of condemnation, hoping thus to have the last word.^[724]

The light appeared also in the provinces of the North. Dort, a town of South Holland, was one of the first to receive it. A Dominican named Vincent, one of those violent men who passionately disparage their opponent and are desperate in conflict,^[725] delivered a foolish and aggravating discourse against the Reformation. The hearers went away greatly excited, and there was immense agitation around the church. The excitement soon passed from honest and religious men to that ignorant and passionate class which is always ready to make a riot. When the monk came out, they uttered loud cries and were 486almost ready to stone him. Vincent, in alarm, threw himself into a cart, and fled to Louvain, where he presented himself as a martyr. ‘I have all but lost my life for the sake of the faith,’ he said.^[726] ‘Erasmus is the cause of it, and the letters which he has written.’ To burn Erasmus would in his opinion have been a truly Roman exploit.

The Dominicans availed themselves of this incident, and appealed to the Count of Nassau, governor of Flanders, Brabant, and Holland. The States-general were to be assembled at the Hague. The Dominicans vehemently complained to the count of the progress which the principles of reform were everywhere making, and demanded that the States should without delay put a stop to it. ‘Go, then,’ said Nassau to them, ‘preach the Gospel of Christ in sincerity, as Luther does, without attacking any body, and you will have no enemies to contend against.’^[727] Henry of Nassau thus sounded the prelude to the noble aspirations of his family.

Disheartened by such an answer, the enemies of the Reformation fancied that they would meet with a better reception at the hands of Margaret of Austria, the governess of the Netherlands. The Nassau family were essentially Germans; but this princess, said the priests, is a good Catholic. She professed, indeed, to be so; but she was a clever diplomatist and very zealous in her administration. She was anxious to see great progress made in literature and the arts. The doctors of Louvain said to her, ‘Luther, by his writings, is overthrowing Christianity.’ The princess feigned ignorance, and replied, ‘Who is this Luther?’ ‘An ignorant monk,’ replied the priests. ‘Well, then,’^[728] rejoined the aunt of Charles 487the Fifth, ‘there are many of you; write against this ignorant fellow, and the whole world will place more faith in many learned men than in one unlearned.’

A wind was now blowing that was favorable to the Gospel, and voices were raised in behalf of Luther, even at the court festivals. One day, when a great imperial banquet was held, the conversation turned upon the reformer. Some assailed him, but others boldly undertook his defence. De Ravestein exclaimed, ‘A single Christian man has arisen in the course of four centuries, and the Pope wants to kill him.’^[729] The monks, restless and alarmed, asked one another whether the world had gone mad. Rejected by the learned, they endeavored to stir up the common people. A Minorite preaching at Bruges in the church of St. Donatianus, and speaking of Luther and Erasmus, exclaimed—‘They are simpletons, they are asses, beasts, blockheads, antichrists.’^[730] In this style he ran on for an hour. His hearers, amazed at his stupid vociferations, in their turn wondered whether he had not himself lost his head. A magistrate sent for him, and requested him to inform him what errors there were in the writings of Erasmus. ‘I have not read them,’ said he; ‘I did indeed once open his Paraphrases, but I closed the book again immediately; from their excellent Latinity I was afraid that heresy lay beneath.’ Another Minorite friar, weary of continually hearing the people about him demanding to have the Gospel preached to them, said aloud, ‘If you want the Gospel, you must listen to it from the mouths of your priests;’ and he ventured to add, ‘even though you know that they are given up to licentiousness.’^[731] The debauchery and the despotism of a great many of the priests brought discredit 488on the clergy. ‘I value the order of the Dominicans,’ said Erasmus, ‘and I do not hate the Carmelites; but I have known some of them who were of such a stamp that I would sooner obey the Turk than endure their tyranny.’^[732]

The fanatical priests now set in motion more powerful engines of war. Aleander, the papal nuncio, obtained on the 8th of May, 1531, a special decree of persecution for the Netherlands;^[733] and, misusing the name of the emperor, exerted all his influence to induce Margaret rigorously to execute the cruel edict. The princess, if left to herself, would have been more tolerant; but she felt bound to comply with the requirements of her powerful nephew. Placards were posted up in all the towns, which spread alarm everywhere. The middle classes in the Netherlands, sympathizing with progress of every kind, had looked upon Luther as a glorious champion of Gospel truth; and now they read at every street corner, that it was forbidden under pain of death to read his writings, and that his books would be burnt. This was the beginning of the persecution which was to devastate the Netherlands during the sixteenth century. During the single reign of Charles the Fifth more than fifty thousand persons, accused of having read the prohibited books, of having on a certain day eaten meat, or of having entered into the bonds of marriage in defiance of the canonical prohibition, were beheaded, drowned, hung, buried alive or burnt, or suffered death in other ways.^[734] Erasmus therefore exclaimed, ‘What then is Aleander? A maniac, a fool, a bad man.’^[735]

489Fanaticism had not waited for the edict of Worms. The provost of Antwerp had been one of its first victims. Jacob Spreng, we have seen, as early as 1517 proclaimed with earnestness the salvation which Luther had found in Jesus Christ, and which he had also found himself. Luther’s courage increased his own, which was not great. He repeated that he had seen him and heard him, and that he was his disciple. He did not cease to preach, like his master, that man is saved by grace, through faith. One day, it was in 1519, the provost was arrested in his own convent, and, in spite of the commotion among his friars, was carried off prisoner to Brussels. There he appeared before the judge and was examined, was exceedingly worried, and appears even to have been put to the torture and condemned to death by burning.^[736] Spreng, we have said, was not strong. They worried, threatened, and terrified him. He had not yet the steadfastness of a rock. The prospect of being burnt alive made him shudder. He was not what his master would have been; he yielded and, with bowed head and dim eye and a heart cast down and broken, he agreed to every thing that was required of him. What a triumph for his enemies! They determined to make a great display of it. In February, 1520, Aleander, Jerome van der Nood, chancellor of Brabant, Herbaut, suffragan of Cambray, Glapio, chaplain to the emperor, and several other dignitaries of the Church, met together in the presence of a large assembly; for the business in hand was to invest the recantation of the unhappy man with all possible solemnity. The president announced to him that thirty of Luther’s articles were going to be read, and that he must condemn them under pain of death.^[737] These articles had been skilfully selected. The secretary read—‘Every 490work of the free will (of the natural will of man), however good it may be, is a sin, and is in need of the pardon and the mercy of God.’ ‘I condemn this doctrine,’ said Spreng, terrified at the thought of death. He did the same with respect to other points. ‘Ah!’ said Erasmus, who was acquainted with the unbelief of a great number of Roman priests, ‘many make a great hubbub against Luther on account of some assertions of little importance, while themselves do not even believe that the soul continues to exist after death.’^[738]

Aleander and his colleagues were not satisfied with having forced Spreng, with the dagger at his throat, to retract the doctrines of the reformer. They also compelled him to assert the contrary doctrines.

The session had been a frightful one. The unhappy Spreng withdrew broken-hearted and filled with bitter sorrow. He had denied his faith; he had not, however, sinned with any desperate evil intent. He confessed his fault to God, gradually recovered himself from his fall, and became afterwards one of the heralds of the Gospel.

He went out of prison indignant with those who had compelled him to renounce his faith, but especially with himself. He now went to Bruges, and there began to speak boldly against his own unfaithfulness, and to spread abroad the knowledge of the Saviour. He was once more arrested and was taken to Brussels. As a relapsed heretic he had nothing to look for but death. A rumor was even current that he had been burnt alive.^[739] But there were many who cried to God to obtain his deliverance. A Franciscan monk, affected by his fate, succeeded in procuring his escape. Without remaining longer in the Netherlands, he betook himself in 1522 to Wittenberg, 491his Alma Mater,^[740] and from thence to Bremen. He became one of the pastors of this place, happy in being able to lead souls in peace in the sweet smiling pastures of the Gospel.

It was not without good reason that he fled from the Netherlands. Charles the Fifth could not remain a stranger to what was going on there. He was doubtless first of all a politician; and when his temporal interests required it, he could display a little tolerance, either in Germany or elsewhere. But in secular affairs he was a despot, and in religious affairs a bigot. He had no doubt that the Reformation, if it were introduced in the Netherlands, would cross his autocratic projects. He therefore indemnified himself in these provinces for the cautious proceedings to which he was obliged to resign himself in other regions. He had recourse to the Inquisition. It was not, however, that terrible institution as it was known in Castile, where it found a people enthusiastic for its cruelties. The free people of the Netherlands rejected with abhorrence that criminal institution. Nevertheless, the two inquisitors of the faith nominated at this time by the Emperor, one a layman, Franz van der Hulst, a ‘great enemy of letters,’ said Erasmus; the other a monk, Nicholas van Egmont, ‘a very madman armed with a sword,’ did not do their work badly. They first committed people to prison, and afterwards inquired into their faults.^[741] All those who had any leaning to the doctrine of Luther were ordered to appear within the space of thirty days before these judges, who were invested with the power of excommunication.

The departure of Spreng was a loss to Antwerp and the Netherlands. There were not many men whose faith was so simple and so genuine. Some eminent laymen, indeed, declared early for the Reformation; but the relation of these to the Gospel was rather that of amateurs than of 492believers. Cornelius Grapheus (in Flemish, Schryver), secretary of the town of Antwerp, and a friend of Erasmus, was a superior man. He had travelled a good deal and learnt a good deal; and although he was invested with one of the first offices of the imperial town in which he lived, he spent much time in reading. Jan van Goch’s work on the freedom of the Christian religion charmed him; and desirous of imparting to others the enjoyment which he had himself experienced, he translated it into Flemish. He also wrote a preface to it, in which he censured, but not ill-naturedly, those who imposed on Christians a useless yoke. Every well-informed man said as much. Grapheus, finding that these words were received with approbation, did not suppose that in saying them he had done a deed of courage. But the two inquisitors, who felt the need of making some splendid arrest, exclaimed that it was a crime to dare to speak of a yoke, leaped upon their prey, and seized Grapheus in his own house, in the presence of his terrified wife and children. The whole city was astounded. What! one of the first magistrates of the town, a distinguished man, who had travelled in Italy, who cultivated painting, music, and poetry, such a man as this a heretic! The victim once in prison, the inquisitors read the criminated treatise, picked out line after line, and drew up a terrible indictment. Grapheus, a humanist, a magistrate, an artist, and man of letters, was the most astonished of all. He had fancied that he was doing nothing more than a literary exercise, and was distressed at being taken for a theologian. This was in his eyes an honor of which he was not worthy, and by no means dreamed of. He said, like Erasmus—no martyrdom. To be restored to a beloved family, of which he was the sole support, this was the object of his desire. He sought honorably to apologize. ‘If I have spoken of a yoke,’ said he, ‘it is in no controversial spirit; I entreat pardon for my rashness, and am willing to retract my errors.’ But the Popish 493party were implacable, and they cast him into a black dungeon.^[742]

The two inquisitors, not venturing to touch Erasmus, were bent on striking his friend, and on terrifying by this example the partisans of literature. They had a platform erected in the principal square of Brussels; a crowd of people stood round it, and the secretary of Antwerp appeared upon it. His only thought was to recover his peaceful life, to be once more in his study, to sit again at his family table. For this end he was prepared to do any thing. At the command of the inquisitors he hastened to retract publicly the articles of his preface; and he threw it into the fire, so much harm had it done him. Grapheus was not a Lutheran; he was only an Erasmian; and he would have done much more to regain his liberty. He supposed that he had gained it; but the judges to whose clemency he had appealed condemned him to the confiscation of his property, to deprivation of office, and to imprisonment for life. This is what a man gets by venturing to speak of a yoke in a country where there are inquisitors.

The unfortunate man, solitary in his dungeon, lamented his essay in literature, and thought only of his wife and his children. He determined to appeal to the chancellor of Brabant. ‘I wrote that preface,’ said he, ‘as a literary task for the exercise of my understanding. Alas! how much better it would have been for me had I been a blockhead, a buffoon, a comedian, or any other despicable creature, instead of obtaining by my limited abilities important offices. While so many people are allowed to publish their tales, their comedies, their farces, their satires, no matter how rude and improper they may be, a citizen is oppressed because he has had a share in human frailty.’ Sinking beneath the cruel yoke of Rome, Grapheus was quite ready to assert that this very yoke 494had no existence. He requested, as a great favor, that the town of Antwerp might be assigned as his prison, in order that he might be able to earn a livelihood for his family. All his entreaties were fruitless. For a mere literary peccadillo one of the first magistrates of the Netherlands groaned for years in the prisons of the town the government of which he had administered. It appears, however, that he was afterwards liberated, but he was not reinstated in his office. Instances of this kind show that Rome had a grudge not only against the Gospel, but against civilization, intelligence, and freedom.

In this same town of Antwerp, a more cruel fate was to overtake a true evangelist, a man of great intelligence, and also endowed with deep feeling and a living and steadfast faith.

Henry Mollerus, of the town of Zutphen, the name of which he usually bore, had entered the Augustinian order. He had distinguished himself in it, and after having several times changed his convent had settled in that of Antwerp. Here he had soon risen to an important position. Eager to advance, he strove continually to attain to a loftier knowledge and to a more powerful faith.^[743] He was not one of those Christians who lie down and slumber, but of those who awake, go on, press forward, and run to the goal which they have set before them. In consequence of hearing the prior, Jacob Spreng, speak much about Martin Luther, he betook himself in 1521 to Wittenberg, was admitted to the convent of the Augustines, was joyfully welcomed by Luther, and began immediately to study in earnest. The reformer, who often conversed with him, was struck with his capacity and his faith, and considered him worthy to be a recipient of the honors of the University. Henry applied himself especially to the study of man; he descended into the depths of his nature, and made discoveries there which alarmed 495him. He was struck with the holiness of the Divine law; he perceived that he could not fulfil its commandments; and falling to the ground, with closed lips, he confessed himself guilty. But ere long Christ having been revealed to his soul, he had lifted up his head and contemplated the Saviour in all his beauty. From that time he had lived with Christ, and had been eager to walk in his steps.

Henry of Zutphen requested permission of the University to maintain publicly some theses, with a view to his taking the degree of bachelor in theology. The friars of the convent of the Augustines, professors and students, and other inhabitants of Wittenberg, assembled to hear him. Zutphen began:—‘Man, having turned aside from the Divine word, wherein is his life, died immediately, that is to say he was deprived of the spirit of God.^[744]

‘Oh, the impiety of the philosophy which aims at persuading us that this death of the soul with which we are affected is a life! Oh, vanity of the human heart, which, in not esteeming the knowledge of God as the supreme good, and in choosing rather to follow a blind philosophy, goes astray and rushes into the paths of perdition!

‘As there is nothing good in the root, there is consequently nothing in the fruit that is not tainted with the poison.

‘The maxims of morality which men stitch together are nothing but fig-leaves intended to hide their shame.^[745]

‘Man is therefore twice dead; once because this is his nature, and yet again because, instructed by philosophy, he dares to assert—I live.

‘The law does not create sin, but it makes it plainly appear, as the sun draws out the foul smell of a corpse.^[746]

496‘The law is a sword which drives us violently out of paradise and kills us.

‘Faith is a steadfast witnessing of the Spirit of Christ with our spirit that we are children of God.’

The hearers had, for the most part, attained in their own experience to a certain knowledge of the truths which the Dutchman avowed; but all of them appreciated the power with which he set them forth, and the picturesque style in which his thought was dressed. He continued:—

‘Christ is the servant and the master of the law. He it is who, while sinking under the burden of sin, takes it away and casts it far from us and destroys it. He is at once the victim of death, and the medium by which death is destroyed. He is the captive of hell, and yet it is he who bursts open its gates.^[747]

‘Perish the faith which lies slumbering and torpid, and does not vigorously press and drive on to charity. If thou hast faith indeed, fear not, thou hast also charity!’

After having thus delivered a good testimony of his faith, Henry of Zutphen left Wittenberg, came to Dort, and passed thence to Antwerp, where he labored zealously. In the cells of his brethren, the Augustines, in the refectory, as they went to the chapel and returned from it, he did not cease to urge the monks to draw from the Scriptures the treasures which had enriched himself.^[748] He preached with so much fervor that the church of the Augustines would not hold the multitude that flocked to it. The learned, the ignorant, the magistrates, all classes wanted to hear him. He was the great preacher of the age; Antwerp hung upon his lips.^[749] It appears that he was at this time nominated prior of the Augustines, as successor to Spreng.

497But the more enthusiasm one party displayed, the more wrath was displayed by the other. Certain monks of other convents, certain priests, with the inquisitor Van der Hulst at their head, enraged at this concourse of people, applied to the governess of the Netherlands. They put forward false witnesses, who declared that they had heard from the lips of the preacher heretical statements. At the same time they sought to stir up the people. But God, says Zutphen, prevented any tumult, however sharp the provocation might be. Van der Hulst had already prepared at Brussels the prison in which he reckoned on confining him. Zutphen expected it.

On Michaelmas Day (September 29) he was arrested. The agents of the inquisitors laid before him certain articles of faith, extracted from his discourses, and required him to retract them. But he replied with intrepid courage, and well knew from that moment that he had nothing to look for but death. It was in the morning; and the inquisitors, fearing the people, determined to wait till night to remove him to Brussels.^[750] The prisoner therefore remained all day in peace within the convent walls, engaged in meditation and in preparation for giving up his life. Suddenly the noise of a great disturbance was heard. In the evening, after sunset,^[751] men were seen, and women too, usually timid but now made valiant by their love for the Word of God, hurrying together from all quarters and surrounding the monastery.^[752] The most determined among them burst open the doors; the crowd rushed into the convent; some men and some women penetrated into Henry’s prison, took him by the hand, and conducting him to the house of one of his friends, concealed 498him there. Three days elapsed, and no one had any suspicion of his place of refuge. His enemies moved heaven and earth to discover him, and ransacked all nooks, and corners. They summoned his friends, and with threats demanded of them whether they knew his place of concealment. Flight alone could save him from death. ‘I will go to Wittenberg,’ he said. The difficulty was to get out of the town. He effected his escape, however, and succeeded in reaching Enkhuysen, a town of Holland, and there took up his abode in the monastery of the Augustines. An order arrived to arrest Henry, to bind him and to take him before Margaret at Antwerp. He had just before left Enkhuysen, and was arriving at Amsterdam. He set out with all speed from the town and betook himself to his native place, Zutphen. But here he was presently recognized and seized. He appeared before the ecclesiastical tribunals. ‘Who art thou? Whence comest thou? Whither goest thou?’ they said to him. ‘Art thou not come hither to preach?’ ‘If that is agreeable to you,’ said he, ‘I shall do so with much pleasure.’ ‘Get you gone!’ exclaimed his enraged judges.

He then set out for Bremen. Here he remained some time without any one suspecting who he was. Some good townsmen, however, having made his acquaintance, requested him to preach. He did so, on St. Martin’s Day (Sunday), 1522, and was immediately cited by the magistrate of the town. ‘Why have you preached?’ said the canons to him. ‘Because the word of God must not be bound.’ ‘Expel him from the town,’ said the canons to the magistrates. The latter replied that they could not do this; and Henry continued to preach. The nobles and the prelates of two dioceses then demanded that he should be delivered to the bishop; and they invited the notables of the town and the heads of the trades to unite with them for this purpose. But they all replied, ‘We have never heard any thing from his lips but the 499pure Gospel.’ Henry’s preaching became more and more powerful, and danger was incessantly increasing. ‘I will not leave Bremen unless I am driven away by force,’ said Zutphen. He therefore remained at Bremen, preaching the Gospel fervently and successfully. ‘Christ lives,’ he said; ‘Christ is conqueror, Christ commands.’ His prosperous career was suddenly interrupted. Called into Holstein, he went there, and preached energetically. But, on the day after the Feast of the Conception, the Ave Maria was sounded at midnight. Five hundred peasants, instigated by the monks, assailed him, pulled him from his bed, bound his hands behind his back, dragged him almost naked over the ice and the snow through the bitter cold air, struck him a blow with a club, and burnt him. His tragical end we have narrated in our account of the German Reformation.^[753] Luther described and deplored his martyrdom.

A convent which sent forth such men as Spreng and Zutphen could not be allowed to subsist. Its suppression was obtained by the inquisitors. All the friars were turned out of the monastery.^[754] The governess of the Netherlands herself attended this sinister expedition of the inquisitors of the faith. Those monks who were from Antwerp were confined in the house of the Beghards, others in other places; and a small number who had renounced the Gospel were set at liberty. The host was solemnly removed from this heretical place and carried in great pomp into the church of the Holy Virgin, at which the governess of the Netherlands, the aunt of Charles the Fifth, was present for the purpose of receiving it with high honors. All the vessels of the monastery were sold; the church and the cloisters were closed, and the passages stopped up. At length, in the month of October, 1522, the convent was demolished and razed 500to the ground.^[755] These ruins were to teach every one, and especially the monks, not to read, and above all not to preach, the Word of God.

Three of the Augustine monks, Esch, Voes, and Lambert, were eminent for their faith. We have elsewhere narrated their noble and affecting martyrdom, and have mentioned the beautiful hymn composed in honor of them by Luther.^[756]

But it was vain to burn those who had awakened to a new life; there were still many who were no longer willing to sleep.

Holland and other states of the North were beginning to assume the position which they were afterwards to hold as the United Provinces.

At Delft, Frederick Canirmius, by some discourses delivered in the Gymnasium, had damaged the cause of the monks. The enemy strove to stifle his voice by orders, epistles, and deputations. But the brave Christian man had said with proud confidence, ‘The Lord will cause this mountain in labor to bring forth nothing but a mouse.^[757] Oh!’ he exclaimed, ‘if only it were permitted us to preach publicly, the cause of the monks would be ruined.’ But obstacles were every day increasing, and the ruin of monachism seemed more and more remote. Canirmius did not lose courage. ‘The Lord withdraws his arm,’ said he, ‘because we attribute every thing to our own efforts. But if he see that we cling to him with all our soul as to the sole salvation of Israel, then he will suddenly present himself in the midst of his Church.’^[758]

A Christian triumvirate had been formed in these provinces. At the Hague, William Gnapheus, director of the 501Gynasium, was diffusing the Gospel in the midst of his pupils and his connections, substituting for false worship a living faith in Christ. A learned jurisconsult, Cornelius Hoen, an excellent man, says Erasmus, and John Rhodius, rector of the college of Utrecht, assisted him. They carried on their labors in common; and to them is attributed the translation of the New Testament into the vulgar tongue, which was published in 1523.^[759] The necessity of an intimate union with Christ was a distinctive feature of the teaching of these three Dutchmen. ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ,’ said Hoen in 1521, ‘when announcing to his people the pardon of their sins, added a pledge to his promise, lest their faith should waver. Just as a bridegroom desirous of ratifying an engagement gives a ring to his bride and says to her, Take this, I give myself to thee; just as the bride receiving this ring believes that her husband is hers, turns her heart away from all other men, and desires only to please her husband; so also must he who receives the Supper, the precious pledge by which the Heavenly Bridegroom desires to testify that he gives himself to him, firmly believe that Christ ^[760] gave himself for him, and must consequently turn his heart from all that he has hitherto loved, and seek after Christ alone, must be anxious only about what pleases him and cast all his cares upon him. This is what is meant by eating the flesh of Christ and drinking his blood.’ These words did not completely satisfy Luther, but Zwinglius heartily approved them. The reformed symbol was early adopted in Holland. These three Dutchmen were peaceably disseminating the Gospel in their respective spheres, when a storm suddenly burst over them. Hoen and Gnapheus ^[761] 502were arrested and thrown into prison, without any trial of their cause.

These two men, no friends to noise or display, never speaking of themselves, intent on the duties of their calling, believing that the truth ought to be sown in peace, had never supposed that any danger could overtake them; and now, in the twinkling of an eye, they found themselves in a dungeon. They were astounded. ‘Every one knows,’ said Gnapheus,^[762] ‘with what diligence I have always devoted myself to the instruction of the young, but without representing to them ceremonies as the essence of religion. This is my crime!’ After three months, the Count of Holland, who highly esteemed these excellent men, became bail for them. They were then removed to the Hague, and this town was assigned as their prison. Some time afterwards, Hoen fell asleep in peace; and Gnapheus, at the end of the second year, was set at liberty.

There were in the Netherlands men of more decided faith than the three humanists. At Groningen, where that pastor Frederick lived whom Erasmus proclaimed to be a second Augustine, the doctor of law, Abring, and the masters of arts, Timmermann, Pistoris, and Lesdrop, sharply attacked the papal monarchy. ‘We refuse,’ they said, ‘to the Roman pontiff that sword which is commonly assigned to him. Christ, when speaking of heretics, said, Beware of them;^[763] but He did not say, Massacre and destroy them.^[764] Christ gave to his Church teachers and not satraps.’ Thus spake, despising danger, these energetic doctors. Boldness was discretion and won the victory. But such cases were rare, especially in the southern portion of the Netherlands.

503The enemies of the Reformation seemed to be more thoroughly awake in the south than in the north. At Antwerp and in the surrounding districts there were (1524) a great number of people of every rank who began to relish that divine word which had been proclaimed by Spreng, Henry of Zutphen, and others. The preaching of a pious Augustine monk having been prohibited, those who longed for the light arranged to meet on Sundays near the Scheldt, at the place where ships were built, thinking that if men should hold their peace the very stones would cry out. The congregation was assembled, and there was no preacher; but, after some seconds, a young man, perhaps a seamen, rose. His name was Nicholas; and the word of God which he had received was warmly stirring in his heart. When he saw all these poor people gathered together in this lonely spot, ardently desiring good for their souls, and finding none, Nicholas remembered the five thousand who were without victuals in the desert.^[765] He went to the margin of the river, stepped into a boat that he might be better heard by the multitude, and read that part of the Gospel which relates how Jesus fed the hungry ones. This word told him that the power of God was not tied to outward means; and that it is all one to him whether there be few or many to edify his people. In short, God so blessed his word that all those who heard it were satisfied.^[766] The multitude standing on the bank, who had listened with sympathy, then dispersed. The report of this preaching having spread through the whole town, the enemies of the Reformation were very much enraged, and they resolved to get rid of Nicholas, but to do it clandestinely because they feared the people. The next day the plot was executed. A band of their accomplices came noiselessly 504upon the young man; two or three seized him, while others held a great sack. They forced Nicholas into it, bound the sack with a cord, then carried it to the river and threw it into the water.^[767] Since he was fond of preaching on the Scheldt, let him do it now at his leisure! When the execution was accomplished, these wretches made a boast of it. This crime filled the hearts of honest men with terror; and the friends of the Gospel perceived the dangers which surrounded them.

More freedom was sometimes allowed to priests than to laymen. At Meltza, a place distant two German miles from Antwerp, an eloquent preacher made a spirited attack on Romish superstitions, without perhaps thoroughly comprehending evangelical doctrine. Hearers flocked to him in such multitudes that he had to preach in the fields. ‘We priests,’ said he, speaking one day of the mass, ‘we are worse than the traitor Judas. For Judas sold the Lord Jesus and delivered him up; while we, for our part, sell him indeed, but we do not deliver him over to you.’^[768] People had for a long time been accustomed to these epigrams, and they were less dreaded than a serious and living word.

There were, moreover, in the ranks of the higher clergy of the Netherlands enlightened men who, without being on the side of the reformers, were preparing the way for the Reformation. Philip, bishop of Utrecht, was one of their number. He devoted the beginning of the day to prayer, and he liked especially in prayer to make use of the words of the Bible. He had read the sacred writings several times, and Erasmus boasted of his wisdom and the purity of his morals.^[769] He was above all struck with the licentiousness occasioned by the celibacy of priests 505and monks, and expressed the hope that, within his lifetime, all compulsory celibacy would be abolished by the unanimous consent of bishops and priests.^[770]

This did not fail to produce some impression. In Holland, Brabant, and Flanders, many monks and nuns quitted the convents. A large number of the inhabitants of these provinces embraced the reformed doctrine. Great meetings were held outside the town of Antwerp, in spite of the placards of Charles the Fifth. But it would have been an easier task to stop the sun’s rays than to prevent the light of the Gospel from penetrating into the hearts of men.

Unfortunately the evangelical work encountered adversaries of another kind. One day a man who came from the Netherlands presented himself to Luther, and said to him, in a tone at once emphatic and coarse—‘God, who created the heavens and the earth, sends me to thee.’ ‘One more!’ thought Luther; ‘all these famous men are pressed by the desire to break a lance with me! What do you want with me?’ he said to the Netherlander. ‘I request you,’ he replied, ‘to read to me the books of Moses.’ ‘And what sign have you,’ said the reformer, ‘that God sends you to me?’ ‘This sign is to be found in the Gospel according to St. John,’ said the Netherlander. Luther had enough of this. ‘Good,’ said he, ‘come again another time. The books of Moses are too long for me to find time just now to read them to you.’

The prophet indeed came back. His religion was a kind of rationalism embellished with illuminism. ‘Every man,’ he said, ‘has the Holy Spirit; for this is nothing but his own reason. There is no hell; our flesh alone is condemned, and every soul will have eternal life.’

Luther, alarmed, wrote immediately to the Antwerp Christians.^[771] ‘I see,’ said he, ‘that there are spirits of 506error stirring among you; and I will not by my silence allow an evil to spread which I may have power to prevent. Under the papacy Satan held his court in peace. But one who is mightier (Christ) having now come and conquered him, Satan is furious and creates an uproar. If therefore one of these men wishes to talk with you about high and difficult questions worked out by them, say to him—What God reveals to us suffices us.... Art thou mocking us that thou wouldst induce us to search into things which thyself knowest not? The devil attempts to bring forward profitless and incomprehensible questions to the end that he may draw giddy minds out of the right path. We have enough to do for our whole life if we endeavor to become well acquainted with Jesus Christ. Let useless prattlers alone.’

The Christians of the Netherlands profited by these counsels. A great number of men enlightened by the Gospel enlightened others by means of it. These unknown men were Gerard Wormer, William of Utrecht, Peter Nannius, Lawrence, Hermann Coq, Nicholas Quicquius, the learned Walter Delenus, and at the imperial court, Philip de Lens, secretary of Brabant.^[772] In spite of all the efforts of the censura sacra, the truth was spreading in all directions; and a people of believers was forming who were to become a people of martyrs.

CHAPTER X.
‘TOOTHING-STONES.’
(1525-1528.)

If Rome was for some centuries to crush the new people, the offspring of the Gospel in the east of Europe, in Hungary, there was at the western extremity of the European 507continent another people which she was to strive, with still greater violence, to annihilate. The Netherlands were to become the theatre selected by the adherents of the papacy for the accomplishment on the grandest scale of their greatest crimes. Charles the Fifth, a prince who on some occasions displayed a tolerant spirit, was the man from whom were to proceed the cruel edicts; and his successor was to go beyond him in the art of destruction.

Charles the Fifth had some remarkable qualities. He was active, intelligent, a keen politician, brave, energetic, and calm. But a lofty soul was wanting to him. He was destitute of faith, of compassion and of justice, addicted to intemperance of every kind, especially to that of the table. He did not eat, he devoured; and his excesses hastened his end. But if he made no scruple of transgressing the greatest commandments of God, he was all the more eager to observe cold and trivial ceremonies. He used holy water and had mass sung to him every day. He invoked the saints; and, in drawing up his will, in order to make more sure of the pardon of his sins, he commended his soul not only to God, but also to the blessed Virgin Mary, the blessed St. Peter, St. Paul, St. George, St. Anne, and generally to all the saints, male and female, of Paradise, and to the converted thief (au bon larron).^[773] He appeared zealous for the ordinances of God, affected like certain Jews to ‘write them on his door-posts,’ but he did not put them in his heart; and he sought to make up for great offences ‘by some paltry trash of satisfaction.’ His son Philip, and others who after him occupied the throne of Spain, likewise adopted and carried out, in a manner yet more striking, this hypocritical and shameful system. Charles was not a bigot from fanaticism; he was not afraid to imprison the Holy Father himself. He did not in reality put much difference between evangelical and Romish creeds. But, endowed 508with considerable judgment, he understood that the doctrine which offered resistance to the despotism of the popes would assuredly in certain cases offer resistance to the despotism of princes; and he feared that, if liberty were once established in the Church, people would end with wanting to introduce it in the State. Now, this was in his eyes the crime of crimes. Thus, although the schemes of his policy often led him to spare the Protestants, Charles was really a decided enemy of the Reformation. He found it a difficult matter at this epoch to destroy it in Germany, where he was not sovereign master, and by doing so he would have damaged his influence. But it was otherwise in the Netherlands. If he had received the empire by free election of his peers, he held these provinces by right of succession, and was determined to treat them according to his own good pleasure. He assumed therefore to hold carte blanche with regard to them.

The generous inhabitants of these provinces had liberties of ancient date, and they freely lavished their treasures on the emperor. But the prince was not in the humor to be stayed in his course either by their rights or their gifts. He would massacre, burn, and crush them. Thirty thousand men, some say fifty thousand, were sacrificed in the Netherlands as heretics during the reign of Charles the Fifth. In this matter he did not stand much upon ceremony. His secretaries fabricated frightful placards, which, being silently posted up in the streets of the towns, proclaimed cruel penalties, filled peaceful citizens with terror, and soon made numerous victims. The most excellent of his subjects were burnt, drowned, buried alive or strangled for having read the Word of God and maintained the doctrines which it teaches. The most cruel methods were the best. This great prince, therefore, who has been and is still extolled by so many voices, instead of being crowned with glory, ought to be branded by posterity with the mark of its reprobation.

509Charles found co-operators both in the pope, Clement VII., and in some of the leading men of the country. One of these was Charles of Egmont, Duke of Guelderland, an ambitious and violent man, who had spent his life (he was nearly sixty) in perpetual agitation and wars; a sour and gloomy man, who died of grief when, in 1538, his duchy was given to the Duke of Cleves. Egmont was one of those who feared, not without reason, that the religious change would draw after it a political change. Alarmed at the progress which the Reformation was making around him, actuated by a blind and impetuous zeal, he wrote from Arnheim to the pope to enlist him in the war which he intended to undertake. ‘In all humility,’ he said to him, ‘we kiss your feet, most holy Father, and we inform you that as the pernicious heresy of Luther does nothing, alas, but propagate and strengthen itself from day to day, we are striving to extirpate it. We are extremely distressed at finding that some princes, our neighbors, permit many things which they ought to repress. This is the reason for our entreating your Holiness to command them to use more vigilance lest the many-headed beast should swallow up the church of Jesus Christ. And as the ecclesiastics are themselves infected, and as we dare not lay our hands on the Lord’s anointed, we pray you to authorize us to compel them to return to the good path, and if they do not repent to inflict on them the punishment of death.’^[774]

The pope did not keep him long waiting for an answer. A pontifical brief of Clement VII., addressed to Erhard de la Marck, cardinal bishop of Liége, said to him—‘We are convinced that for the extirpation of this pestilence a higher authority is needed than that of the inquisitors established by Campeggio; we therefore require you to put forth all your ability and anxious endeavors to support the labors of the holy inquisition, and we give you 510full authority over it. Apply yourself with all your heart to root out the tares which Lutheran treachery has sown in the Lord’s field. Never will you find a more splendid opportunity of obeying God and of making yourself agreeable to us.’^[775]

This brief was not to remain long without effect. Indeed, there were already in the Netherlands many, both men and women, who were suffering tortures or death that they might bear witness to the Gospel. We shall describe some cases.

At Woerden, a town situated between Leyden and Utrecht, lived a simple man, warden of the collegiate church, an office which gave him a certain position. He was well-informed, was of a religious spirit, liked his office, and discharged its duties zealously. But his warmest affection was fixed on the person of his son John. John van Bakker, called in Latin Pistorius, studied under Rhodius at the college of Utrecht. He made great progress there in literature, but he also learnt something else. It was at the period of the revival of the Christian religion. The young man was struck by the glorious brightness of the truth, and a living light was shed abroad in his heart.^[776] Rhodius was attached to his young disciple; and they were often seen conversing together, like father and son. The canons of Utrecht took offence. The two evangelicals were watched, attacked, threatened, and denounced as Lutherans; and word had been hastily sent to the father that his son was fallen into heresy. The old churchwarden, thunderstruck by the news, trembling at the thought of the danger impending over his beloved son, at once recalled him to Woerden. But the very evil which he wished to avoid was by this means only increased. John, filled with ardent desire for the propagation of the truth, let slip no opportunity of proclaiming the Gospel to his fellow-citizens. Attacks were renewed; 511the alarm of the father grew greater. He now sent his son to Louvain to improve himself in literature, and also because this town passed for the stronghold of popery. But old ties of hospitality united the father with Erasmus; and John was therefore placed under the influential patronage of this scholar. Out of deference to the wishes of his father, but sorely against his own will, he became a priest. He immediately availed himself, however, of this office to contend more effectively against the anti-christian traditions and to spread abroad more extensively the knowledge of Christ. The canons of Utrecht, who had not lost sight of him, summoned him to appear before them. He refused to do this; and upon this refusal, the prefect of Woerden put him in prison. But Philip, bishop of Utrecht, was favorably disposed towards the Gospel; and John regained his liberty and without delay betook himself to Wittenberg. Here he lived in intimate intercourse with Luther and Melanchthon, and with many pious young men from all the countries of Europe. He thus became established in the faith. On his return to Holland, he taught evangelical truth with still more energy than before. The chapter of Utrecht, whose inquisitorial glance followed him everywhere, now sentenced him to banishment for three years, and ordered him to go to Rome, that he might give himself up to the penances required for the expiation of his errors. But instead of setting out for Italy, he began to travel all over Holland, instructing, confirming, and building up the Christians scattered abroad and the churches. He visited Hoen and Gnapheus, who were at the time prisoners for the Gospel’s sake, and consoled them. His father followed him with both joy and anxiety in his Christian wanderings. Although he feared that John’s faith would bring down persecution upon him, he nevertheless felt attracted towards it. If the sky looked threatening, the old man in alarm would fain have recalled his son; but if no cloud seemed likely 512to disturb the serenity of the evangelical day, the father rejoiced in the piety of his son and triumphed in his triumphs.^[777]

We have now reached the year 1523. Hitherto Bakker had outwardly belonged to the Church of Rome. He now began to consider whether he ought not to bring his outward actions into harmony with his inward convictions. This harmony is not always attained at the first step. Bakker discontinued officiating in the church, and renounced all profit and advantage proceeding from Rome. When he understood that sacerdotal life is opposed to the Gospel, he married; and, calling to mind the example of Paul, who was a tentmaker, the lettered disciple of Rhodius set himself to earn his livelihood by baking bread, digging the ground, and other manual labor. But at the same time he preached in private houses, and welcomed all who came to seek at his hands consolation and instruction. A step at this time taken by Rome tended to increase his zeal. The pope, anxious to consolidate his tottering see, invented a new species of indulgences, which were not to be offered for sale like those of Tetzel, but were to be given gratuitously by the priests to all persons who, at certain times and in certain places, should come to hear a mass. These indulgences having been preached in Woerden, Bakker rose in opposition to them. He unveiled the craft of those who distributed them, boldly proclaimed the grace of Christ, strengthened the feeble, and pacified troubled consciences. The inhabitants of Woerden, affected by such zeal, resorted in crowds to the lowly dwelling in which they found the peace of God, a Christian woman who sympathized with all their sorrows and endeavored to relieve their necessities, and a pious minister who earned his living by the labor of his own hands. The ordinary priest of the place, 513provoked by the neglect into which he had fallen, denounced Bakker, at first to the magistrate, and next to the governess of the Netherlands. He made such desperate efforts ^[778] that one day, in 1525, the officers of justice, by order of Margaret, arrested Bakker and committed him to prison at the Hague. The poor father on hearing the news was struck as by a thunderbolt. Bakker, doomed to harsh and solitary confinement, perceived the danger which hung over him. He looked all round and saw no defender except the Holy Scriptures. His enemies, who were afraid of his superior knowledge, sent for theologians and inquisitors from Louvain; and an imperial commission was instructed to watch the proceedings and see that the heretic was not spared. The doctors came to an understanding about the trial, and every one’s part was fixed. The inquisitorial court was formed, and the young Christian—he was now twenty-seven years of age—appeared before it. Cross-pleadings were set up. The following are some of the affirmations and negations which were then heard at the Hague:—

The Court.—‘It is ordered that every one should submit to all the decrees and traditions of the Roman church.’

Bakker.—‘There is no authority except the Holy Scriptures; and it is from them only that I can receive the doctrine that saves.’^[779]

The Court.—‘Do you not know that it is the church itself which, by its testimony, gives to the Holy Scriptures their authority?’

Bakker.—‘I want no other testimony in favor of the Scriptures than that of the Scriptures themselves, and that of the Holy Spirit which inwardly convinces us of the truths which Scripture teaches.’

The Court.—‘Did not Christ say to the apostles—He who heareth you heareth me?’

514Bakker.—‘We would assuredly listen to you if you could prove to us that you are sent by Christ.’

Bakker.—‘All Christians born of water and of the Spirit are priests; and, although all do not publicly preach, all offer to God through Christ spiritual sacrifices.’

Bakker.—‘The church of Christ is to make use only of meekness and the power of the word of God.’

It was not for one day only, but during many days, and in long sessions, that the inquisitors plagued Bakker. They charged him especially with three crimes—despising indulgences, discontinuing to say mass, and marrying.^[780]

As Bakker’s steadfastness frustrated all the efforts of the inquisitors, they bethought themselves of making him go to confession, hoping thus to obtain some criminating admission. So they had him into a niche in the wainscoting, where the confessor received penitents; and a priest questioned him minutely on all kinds of subjects. They could only get one answer from him—‘I confess freely before God that I am a most miserable sinner, worthy of the curse and of eternal death; but at the same time I hope, and have even a strong confidence that, for the sake of Jesus Christ my Lord and my only Saviour, I shall certainly obtain everlasting blessedness.’ The confessor then pronounced him altogether unworthy of absolution, and he was thrown into a dark dungeon.

So long as Philip, bishop of Utrecht, lived, the canons, although they had indeed persecuted Bakker, had not ventured to put him to death. This moderate bishop, so friendly to good men, having died on the 7th of April, 1525, the chapter felt more at liberty, and Bakker’s death 515was resolved on. The tidings of his approaching execution spread alarm through the little city;^[781] and people of all classes immediately hastened to him and implored him to make the required recantation. But he refused. Calm and resolved, one care alone occupied his thoughts, the state of his father. The old man had followed all the phases of the trial. He had seen the steadfastness of his son’s faith and the supreme love which he had for Jesus Christ, so that nothing in the world could separate him from the Saviour. This sight had filled him with joy and had strengthened his own faith. The inquisitors, who were very anxious to induce Bakker to recant, thought that one course was still open to them. They betook themselves therefore to the old man, and entreated him to urge John to submit to the pope. ‘My son,’ he replied, ‘is very dear indeed to me; he has never caused me any sorrow; but I am ready to offer him up a sacrifice to God, as in old time Abraham offered up Isaac.’^[782]

It was then announced to Bakker that the hour of his death was at hand. This news, says a chronicler, filled him with unusual and astonishing joy.^[783] During the night he read and meditated on the divine word. Then he had a tranquil sleep. In the morning (September 15) they led him upon an elevated stage, stripped him of the priestly vestments which he had been obliged to wear, put on him a yellow coat, and on his head a hat of the same color. This done, he was led to execution. As he passed by one part of the prison, where several Christians were confined for the sake of the faith, he was affected and cried aloud—‘Brothers! I am going to suffer martyrdom. Be of good courage like faithful soldiers of Jesus Christ, and defend the truths of the Gospel against 516all unrighteousness.’ The prisoners started when they heard these words, clapped their hands, uttered cries of joy, and then with one voice struck up the Te Deum. They determined not to cease singing until the Christian hero should have ceased to live. Bakker, indeed, could not hear them, but these songs, associated with the thoughts of the martyr, ascended to the throne of God. First they sang the Magnum Certamen; then the hymn beginning with the words, ‘O beata beatorum martyrum solemnia.’ This holy concert was the prelude to the festival which was to be celebrated in heaven. The martyr went up to the stake, took from the hands of the executioner the rope with which he was to be strangled before being given up to the flames, and passing it round his neck with his own hands, he said with joy—‘O death! where is thy sting?’ A moment afterwards he said—‘Lord Jesus, forgive them, and remember me, O Son of God.’ The executioner pulled the rope and strangled him. Then the fire consumed him. The great conflict was finished, the solemnity of the martyrdom was over. Such was the death of John van Bakker. His father survived to mourn his loss.^[784]

John van Bakker was not the only one visited with these extreme penalties which the duke of Guelderland had demanded of the pope. There was in the convent of his order at Britz, a Carmelite, named Bernard, about fifty years of age. As a fearless preacher of the Gospel the monks detested him, and they succeeded in getting him sentenced to death. His execution was attended by some singular circumstances, which gave rise to one of those legends so numerous in the Romish church, and from which all the evangelicals had not yet freed themselves. Rome still left her mark occasionally on the Reformation. When Bernard was cast into the flames the fire went out. This was thrice repeated. The executioner then seized a hammer and struck the victim. 517Thus far the story is credible; but at this point it is changed, and passes from history to fable. The body being cast for the fourth time upon the pile, the fire again went out, and the body, it was said, was no longer visible to the bystanders; so that a report was circulated that this man of God had been translated to heaven.^[785]

The death of these pious men did not extirpate evangelical Christianity. The seed scattered abroad in the Netherlands had everywhere sprung up and had borne fruit at Antwerp, and especially at Bois-le-Duc, both wealthy and powerful towns. ‘At Antwerp,’ said Erasmus, ‘we see, in spite of the edicts of the emperor, the people flocking in crowds wherever the word is to be heard. It is found necessary for the guards to be under arms night and day. Bois-le-Duc,’ added the Rotterdam scholar, ‘has banished from its walls all the Franciscans and Dominicans.’^[786] By the vast commerce of the Netherlands men were attracted to the country from all quarters, and many of these immigrants were lovers of the Gospel. These provinces, it was said, resembled a valley which receives in its bosom the waters of many different regions, so that the plants which are to be found there thrive and bear the finest fruits. The year 1525 produced the most excellent of all. The New Testament in the Dutch language had been published at Amsterdam as early as 1523. The Old Testament appeared at Antwerp in 1525; and the same year, in the same town, Liesveld published the whole Bible. The Roman doctors, indeed, ridiculed the missionaries ‘whose office it is to sow in remote lands the leaves of a book which the winds carry one knows not whither.’^[787] But these leaves, 518in conjunction with the preaching of the reformers, took from the pope, in the sixteenth century, the centre and the north of Europe.

Nevertheless, the best minds at the court, and especially the Governess Margaret herself, an enlightened princess, and one who was sincerely anxious for the prosperity of the Netherlands, were asking themselves what was the source of the evil, and whether the death of such men as Bakker and Bernard could check it. Erasmus and others replied that a reform of the priests and monks would render useless that which Luther called for. This was a mistake. More than once, in different ages, such a reform had been tried; some outward improvements had been effected, but the change had been only of short duration, because inwardly the deep principles of Christian faith and life had not been re-established. The government, however, attempted this superficial reform. About the close of September, 1523, Margaret addressed the magistrates of the Netherlands. ‘Be on your guard,’ she said to them, ‘lest the teaching of the priests, which abounds in fables, and their impure manner of life, give a blow to the prosperity of the church.’^[788] She did more. Appealing to the priests themselves, she said—‘It is our intention that those men only should be allowed to preach who are prudent, intelligent, and moral.^[789] Let the preachers avoid every thing which might scandalize the people; and let them not speak so much against Luther, and against his doctrines and those of the ancient heretics.’^[790]

Such were the sentiments of enlightened Catholics; but neither Margaret nor Charles the Fifth had power to transform the Church. Their letters even called forth murmurs and objections. ‘Why, they are laying the blame on the priests for the wrongs caused by the reformers. 519Luther did the mischief, and now the monks must bear the burden and the penalty!’ It was a penalty for those who thus complained to have to begin to do well.

After a gleam of good sense, the authorities went astray once more and resumed their rigorous proceedings. In the judgment of many this was the easier and more logical course. The papist party regained the ascendency, and declared with all their might that there was only one thing to do—to extirpate evangelical doctrine. A new edict was published in the provinces. Religious meetings, whether public or private, were prohibited. The reading of the Gospels, of the epistles of St. Paul, and of other pious works, was forbidden. Any person who asserted, either in his own house or elsewhere, any thing respecting faith, the sacraments, the pope and the councils, incurred the heaviest penalties. No work could be printed before being approved, and every heretical book was to be burnt.^[791] This ordinance was carried into execution without delay, and its provisions were extended even to writings inspired by the most praiseworthy benevolence. A noble lady of Holland having lost her husband, her trial excited warm sympathy in the heart of Gnapheus. He wrote a book in which he set forth all the consolations to be found in evangelical doctrine, pointing out at the same time that the doctrine of the priests was destitute of them. He was immediately arrested and confined in a monastery, was fed on bread alone, and was condemned to three months’ penance. The humanist felt keenly the distress of the days in which he lived; and, desirous of alleviating his own bitter sufferings and those of his contemporaries, he began in his cell a work to which he gave the title of Tobias and Lazarus. Therein he offers to all Christians the most precious consolations, and shows how much those are mistaken who see in the first evangelical Christians of the 520Netherlands only more or less violent adversaries of the pope. ‘Receive afflictions with resignation and a joyful spirit,’ said he, ‘thou wilt straightway discern in them a source of true and permanent consolation. Give to God in faith the name of Father, and every thing which thou shalt receive from His fatherly hand will seem good to thee. Lay hold on Christ by faith, and then nothing will strengthen you like trials. Fatherly love is never better seen than in its chastisements; and it is in the midst of tribulations that the glory of the kingdom of God shines forth.’ This book bore wholesome fruit, and many by reading it were led to the knowledge of the truth.^[792] Gnapheus in his day fulfilled the office of a comforter.

This was not the part which Charles the Fifth had chosen. On concluding (January 15, 1526) with Francis I. the peace of Madrid, he declared in the preamble that the object of this peace was ‘to be able to turn the common arms of all Christian kings, princes, and potentates to the expulsion and destruction of miscreants, and the extirpation of the Lutheran sect and of all the said heretics alienated from the bosom of Holy Church.’^[793] It was very soon seen that this resolution was sincere.

In the town of Monnikendam, on the shores of the Zuyder Zee, there was living at this time a widow named Wendelmutha Klaessen, who had sorrowed greatly for the death of the partner of her life, but had also shed other and still more bitter tears over the sad state of her own soul. She had found the peace which Christ gives, and had clung to the Saviour with a constancy and a courage which some of her friends called obstinacy. The purity of her life created a sanctifying influence around her; and as she openly avowed her full trust in Christ, she was arrested, taken to the fortress 521of Woerden, and soon after to the Hague to be tried there.

The more steadfast her faith was, the more the priests set their hearts on getting her to renounce it. Monks were incessantly going to see her, and omitted no means of shaking her resolution. They assailed her especially on the subject of transubstantiation, and required her to worship as if they were God the little round consecrated wafers of which they made use in the mass.^[794] But Wendelmutha, certain that what they presented to her as God was nothing more than thin bread, replied—‘I do not adore them, I abhor them.’ The priests, provoked at seeing her cling so tenaciously to her ideas, urged her kinsfolk and her friends to try all means of getting her to retract her speeches. This they did.

Among these friends was a noble lady who tenderly loved Wendelmutha.^[795] These two Christian women, although they were as one soul, had nevertheless different characters. The Dutch lady was full of anxiety and distress at the prospect of what awaited her friend, and said to her in the trouble of her soul—‘Why not be silent, my dear Wendelmutha,^[796] and keep what thou believest in thine own heart, so that the schemes of those who want to take away thy life may be baffled?’ Wendelmutha replied, with simple and affecting firmness—‘Dost thou not know, my sister, the meaning of these words—With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation?’

Another day, one of her kinsfolk, after having endeavored in vain to shake her resolution, said to her—‘You look as if you had no fear of death. But wait a little, you have not yet tasted it.’ She replied immediately with firm hope—‘I confess that I have not yet tasted it; but I also know that I never shall taste it; for 522Christ has endured it for me and has positively said—If a man keep my saying he shall never see death.’

Shortly afterwards, Wendelmutha appeared before the Dutch Supreme Court of Justice, and answered that nothing should separate her from her Lord and her God. When taken back into prison, the priest urged her to confess. ‘Do this,’ he said, ‘while you are still in life.’ She replied—‘I am already dead, and God is my life. Jesus Christ has forgiven me all my sins, and if I have offended any one of my neighbors, I humbly beg him to pardon me.’

On the 20th of November, 1527, the officers of justice conducted her to execution. They had placed near her a certain monk who held in his hand a crucifix, and asked her to kiss the image in token of veneration. She replied—‘I know not this wooden Saviour; he whom I know is in heaven at the right hand of God, the Almighty Saviour.’^[797] She went modestly to the stake: and when the flames gathered round her she peacefully closed her eyes, bowed down her head, as if she were falling asleep, and gave up her soul to God, while the fire reduced her body to ashes.

Other victims besides were sacrificed. Among their number was an Augustinian monk of Tournay, whose name was Henry. Having been brought to a knowledge of the Gospel, and finding the inactivity of cloister life insupportable, he betook himself to Courtrai, a neighboring town, scattered there the seed of faith, married, and to preaching added the example of the domestic virtues. Arrested at Courtrai,^[798] he was committed to prison at Tournay. He was tried, deprived of the symbols of the priesthood, and condemned to the flames. At this moment, the sense of the blessedness which he was about to enjoy in the presence of the Saviour so powerfully possessed 523his soul that, unmindful of the priests and the judges who were around him, he began singing aloud that fine old hymn attributed to Ambrose and to Augustine—Te Deum Laudamus. The spectators went away from the stake touched by the courage of his soul and the greatness of his faith.^[799]

The Reformation therefore showed itself to be in truth the revived Gospel, as it has been called.^[800] It was this Gospel, not only on account of its conformity with the writings of the apostles, but for yet other reasons. In the presence of the splendid palaces of a proud hierarchy, it restored apostolical poverty and humility to a declining Christendom. In the midst of death it created life. Light sprang up in the midst of darkness; devotion and self-sacrifice stood face to face with monkish and sacerdotal egotism. It was a holy religion, holy to the pitch of heroism, and formed Christians whose life, full of good works, was crowned by the triumphant death of martyrdom. This faith, this courage, and these deaths were the preparation for and the introduction to the formidable and immortal conflict which was afterwards to make the Church of the Netherlands illustrious. They were only the outworks of the fortress which this people would one day erect against the oppression of the papacy. They formed the junction between the lowly walls which the faith of the little ones was at this time constructing in these lands and the glorious building which was afterwards erected. They served as the beginning of a great future. Moreover, these lives and these deaths were not isolated events. They were continually recurring in all countries during the epoch of the Reformation, and they filled it with glory. Nothing like them has been produced either by Rome or by systems of philosophy.

Charles the Fifth continued to prosecute his schemes. Each of the numerous countries which he united under his sceptre had its destination in accordance with the private views of its master. The Netherlands were to be the field for the display of his arbitrary authority and his cruel despotism. The emperor had already given proof of his fierce disposition in the treaty of Madrid; but he now gave further evidence of the same. On the 29th of January, 1529, he concluded, at Barcelona, an alliance with the pope which was worthy of both of them. It was therein declared that ‘many persons having completely deviated from Christian doctrine, the emperor and his brother would make use of their power against those who should obstinately persist in their errors.’ All the princes were invited to join this ‘holy alliance.’^[801] On the 5th of August of the same year the emperor confirmed, by the treaty of Cambray, his determination to extirpate evangelical doctrine; and the same year a new placard, dated from Brussels, October 14, was everywhere posted up, which ordered that all those who dwelt in the country should, before November 25, deliver into the hands of the prefect of the place all books and manuscripts conformed to the opinions of Luther. Whosoever failed to do so, and whosoever should receive heretics into his house, should be punished both with confiscation and with death. ‘Nevertheless,’ it was added, ‘that we may manifest to all with what compassion we are moved, those who before the said date shall confess and abjure 525their errors shall be reconciled to the Church.’ Relapsed persons and prisoners were, however, excepted. The relapsed were condemned to the flames; and with respect to other heretics, the men were to be beheaded, and the women condemned to the pit, i.e., to be buried alive. Half of the goods of accused persons was promised to the informers.^[802] Such was the compassion with which, according to the assurance which he gave, the heart of Charles the Fifth was moved. Was the atrocious penalty pronounced against women consequent on the fact that they usually showed more piety and gave greater provocation by their zeal to the satellites of Charles? This is possible; and at all events the fact is greatly to their honor.

The emperor was not the only oppressor of the evangelicals of the Netherlands. Charles of Egmont, duke of Guelderland, who was at this time residing in the ancient palace of his town of Arnheim, on the right bank of the Rhine, indulged without restraint his wrath against the Reformation. Two men were the objects of his especial detestation. One of these was Gerhard Goldenhauer of Nimeguen, a correspondent of Erasmus, who had brought many of the inhabitants of Guelderland to the knowledge of Christ. The other was Adolph Clarenbach, a learned and eloquent man, who had courageously proclaimed evangelical truth. Shortly after the conclusion of the alliance between the emperor and the pope, the duke determined to do every thing in his power for the purpose of crushing the enemies of the pope. ‘I will have,’ said he, ‘all those who are tainted with the Lutheran heresy, young and old, natives and foreigners, men and women,^[803] all who, either within the privacy of their own houses, or in hostelries, or in conventicles, shall have said or done any thing which savors of heresy, deprived without mercy 526and without respect of persons, of their property and their lives. One third of their fortune shall be mine, another third shall go to the towns or other places where the offence has been committed, and the remaining third shall go to the informer.’ The ducal fanatic had signed with his own hand an edict embodying these barbarous stipulations. He did not confine himself to threats. At Arnheim, Nimeguen, and elsewhere, he caused men, women, and even monks, to be arrested; and after having examined them, had some of them drowned, others beheaded, and many banished. With respect to evangelical books, he ordered them all to be burnt. In the palace where these orders were signed and discussed there was a young man not very friendly to popery, whose heart these cruel proceedings filled with sorrow. This was Charles, a son of the duke by a noble lady, and a much better man than his father, leading a virtuous life, and dear to all good men. But nothing could stay the violence of the wretched Egmont. Perpetually restless, gloomy, and fierce, he could not lay hands on Clarenbach and Goldenhauer; but the former, immovable in his avowal of the truth, was burnt alive on the 20th of September, of this same year, 1529, at Cologne. Goldenhauer withdrew to Strasburg, and was afterwards called to Marburg as professor of theology.^[804]

Nothing could check the course of the government of Charles the Fifth. On the contrary, it hastened on. Six days after the publication of the last placard, William, a Christian man of Zwoll, was struck. He had been one of the ministers of Christian of Denmark, and had come into Belgium with this prince. Ere long, certain theologians of Louvain, irritated by his profession of evangelical doctrine, had him arrested. They then went to him and said—‘Here are certain articles on which we require your opinion. We give you twelve days to reply to us; 527and if you refuse to do so,’ they added in a threatening tone, ‘we shall proceed against you as we think proper.’

William read the articles, eight in number, and feeling that there was no need to take twelve days to answer them, he immediately made a confession of his faith.^[805] ‘Reverend doctors,’ he said to the theologians, ‘I believe, with respect to the pope, that if he be minded to wield the temporal sword, to refuse obedience to the lawful magistrate, rather than confine himself to the spiritual sword which is the word of God,^[806] he has no power either to bind or to loose consciences. With respect to purgatory, every Christian knows perfectly well that after death he will be blessed. With respect to the invocation of saints, we have in heaven Christ alone as mediator, and it is to Him that I cling. With respect to the mass, it is certainly not a sacrifice; for the blood of Christ shed upon the cross suffices for the salvation of the faithful. With respect to Luther’s books, I admit that I have read them, not however out of contempt for His Imperial Majesty, but in order that by learning and knowing the truth I may reject every untruth.’

The doctors of Louvain, noted for their hatred of the Gospel, listened with abhorrence to this candid confession, in which piety so singular shone forth.^[807] For such a confession, they said, the man who makes it assuredly deserves to be condemned to death. A stake was therefore prepared at Mechlin, and William was burnt alive amidst the lamentations of pious men, who all mourned the death of this Christian martyr.^[808]

A young man of Naarden, on the Zuyder Zee, not far from Amsterdam, studied at the university of Louvain. 528Endowed with a certain good nature, lively but not diligent, he voluntarily forsook his studies, disregarded rules, laughed, drank, and spent his money. He returned to Holland and to his father’s house. The influences of home appear to have been salutary, and he began to reflect on his conduct. One day as he was walking near the sea-shore, he suddenly fell down as if he had been struck by lightning, and lay stretched upon the ground. Was this collapse purely physical, or were moral causes in operation? The remembrance of his misdeeds had doubtless something to do with it. The young Dutchman had so completely lost consciousness that the people who ran to his assistance and lifted him up thought that he was dead, and carried the body home. He was laid on a bed, and gradually he came to himself; but he was changed. He felt that the severe blow which the hand of God had struck him was necessary to subdue him to obedience. He was in distress; but the mercy of Christ consoled him, and henceforth he walked uprightly. When he had been cast down, like Paul on the road to Damascus, he had, like him, heard the voice of the Saviour. He diffused light around him, going from place to place preaching the Gospel. These events occurred in 1530. The imperial governor sent him orders to appear at the Hague. He went voluntarily; but he was so simple and so true that he was dismissed. The same thing happened a second time. But on a third occasion he was sent to prison. He excited, however, so much interest in those about him, that they offered him the means of escape. He refused the offer, and was condemned to death. He went quite joyfully to execution, with a heart full of love for God and for men. He was heard singing a hymn to the praise of the Lord who called him to himself by a death which was made sweet to him. He had nothing about him, not even the smallest coin; but, seeing near the scaffold some poor people entirely destitute, he took off with great simplicity his shoes and stockings, and 529gave these to them.^[809] The victims of Charles were men of this sort.

A change which took place in the government of this prince seemed likely to effect a change with respect to evangelical Christians, and the friends of the Reformation indulged lively hope from it. Margaret, aunt of the emperor, who for ten years had governed the Netherlands with wisdom but with severity, died in 1531, and was succeeded by Mary, queen of Hungary, the sister of Charles. This princess was a great lover and student of literature. ‘Verily,’ said Erasmus, speaking of her, ‘the world is turned upside down; monks are ignorant and women are educated.’ She was a clever woman, of heroic spirit, and a great huntress. But when she went to the hunt she carried the Gospels in her pocket. We have already met with her in Hungary, and have not forgotten the words of consolation which Luther gave her after the death of the king her husband.

At the Diet of Augsburg she had had the Gospel preached in her own house, and had won the hearts of the Protestants, who admired her moderation and her piety. She loves the evangelicals, they used to say, and has often allayed the wrath of the emperor. She pleads their cause with him, although with moderation and timidity.^[810] She was thus an object of suspicion to the pope and his adherents, and they accused her of heresy. The pope, when he had learnt her conduct, instructed his legate to complain of her to the emperor. ‘She secretly favors,’ said the nuncio to Charles, ‘the Lutheran faction; she lowers the Catholic cause, and opposes the measures of your ministers.’^[811] She was charged even with having dissuaded the elector of Trèves from joining the Catholic alliance, and with having prevented the 530bishop of Lavaur, envoy of Francis I., from going into Germany for the purpose of taking counsel with the Romish party.

Mary of Hungary arrived at Brussels, and took up her abode in the palace of the court. Little reflection was needed to discover how difficult was the position assigned her. Although she was not a fully enlightened Christian and disciple of the Reformation, she nevertheless loved the Gospel and felt pity for the persecuted evangelicals. On the other hand, she was sent by her brother to execute his laws against the Protestants, laws which the emperor did not fail to sanction and often to aggravate by new ones. What should Mary do? How escape from this cruel dilemma? She ought to have refused the government with which her brother had invested her; but this office gave to the widowed queen a rank among the princes of Europe, and Charles was not one of those whose favors it was easy to refuse. He had set her in a false position, and unhappily she remained there. She proposed to steer her course between two contrary currents; and, while carrying out the orders of her lord and brother, while endeavoring also to retain his favor and to dissipate his suspicions by severe letters against the Protestants, she strove as much as she could to alleviate their sufferings. Some have believed that as governess of the Netherlands, she had renounced the religious sentiments which she had held as queen. This, we think, is a mistake. Her life was a tissue of inconsistencies and contradictions; but she held to the last sentiments which were suspected at Rome. This was shown by the determination of Philip II., who, when he resolved to execute in these provinces his sanguinary designs, recalled his aunt to Spain. Poor woman, poor princess! What inward struggles she had to undergo! Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that the torments which she suffered in her own heart were the penalty of her ambition and her cowardice. By the course which she 531took she did harm even to the cause which she had wished to promote. Her leaning to the Gospel, accompanied by the sanction which she gave to the death of those whom in her own conscience she honored, frequently added to the distress of pious men, and increased the weakness and humiliation of the Reformation. Hope deceived weighs down and disheartens.

Meanwhile the evangelical meetings multiplied under Mary’s government. They were held sometimes in the open air, and sometimes in concealed retreats; and their attendants were counted by thousands. Among all the towns of Holland, Amsterdam was distinguished by the number of its inhabitants, its commercial activity, and the abundance of its wealth. Evangelical doctrine had early been proclaimed there, either by some of its inhabitants who cultivated literature and read the Greek Testament of Erasmus, or by such of its burgesses as went to Germany on matters of business and brought the Gospel back with them, or by pious foreigners who came amongst them for the sake of their trade. There was a priest, by name Cornelius Crocus, a learned man who taught the belles-lettres, but at the same time, being full of zeal for the papacy, addicted himself to all the Romish practices, and despised the Reformation. It was, however, silently making progress around him, and he suddenly found himself encompassed with evangelicals. His kinsfolk, his acquaintances, and his former disciples ^[812] had embraced the doctrine of Luther and Œcolampadius, and were aiming, he thought, to corrupt those who were still pure in faith. He was alarmed. The peril which was hemming him round took up his thoughts and tormented him night and day. Nevertheless, full of confidence in himself, he fancied that if only he could write a book the 532danger would be dispelled. But he saw one obstacle in his way, and only one. As a member of the Minorite order, he had every day so many prayers to read that not a single moment was left him for composition. Only a month, he thought, one month of leisure, would accomplish the task. The book would be written, and Lutheranism destroyed. He resolved to apply to episcopal authority; and on the eve of the Epiphany, 1531, he wrote to the official of Utrecht, delegate of the bishop, to exercise his jurisdiction in this matter—‘I most earnestly entreat you to permit me to break off my prayers for one month only, in order that I may compose a work adapted to turn away men’s minds from Luther and Œcolampadius, and to prevent the corruption of those who are as yet unaffected. I am obliged to make all the more haste because some of those whom I have in view are to set sail next month on a voyage to the East, according to the custom at Amsterdam.’^[813] Amsterdam, already famous for its maritime expeditions, was even then privileged to bear afar in its vessels the doctrine of the Gospel.

There was especially one evangelical at Amsterdam whom Crocus in his alarm did not lose sight of. This was John Sartorius, who was, as it appears, his colleague in teaching the belles-lettres. Born in this town in 1500, endowed with remarkable ability and a strong character, he had much distinguished himself as a student. On a visit to Delft, he had made the acquaintance of Walter, a Dominican of Utrecht, who, being proscribed by his own party, had taken refuge in this town. This monk was the first to impart to Sartorius a taste for the truth. Afterwards, Sartorius having become intimate with Angelo Merula, pastor of Heenvliet, he gained by intercourse with this pious man, a solid knowledge of the 533truths of the faith.^[814] Sartorius was master of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin; and being charged with the teaching of the learned languages, he obtained permission of the magistrates to give his pupils a course of Hebrew lessons which, as we know, was at this time almost a heresy. Ere long he gave yet more convincing proofs of his religious sentiments. While engaged on philology, he endeavored to implant in the minds of his pupils the fundamental principles of the Gospel; and the doctrine on which he most dwelt was that of faith alone,^[815] because he was certain, like all the reformers, that it was the surest means of filling a Christian’s life with good works. Crocus, while mechanically reading his long prayers was thinking of something else; and, being carried away by the violence of his passion, uttered loud cries. He resolved to attack Sartorius, confident that he should crush him at the first blow. He therefore composed and printed at Antwerp a work entitled Concerning Faith and Works, against John Sartorius. Crocus was joined by Alard, another divine of Amsterdam. ‘This man,’ said he, ‘has a cultivated mind, but he has unfortunately chosen the worst of all preceptors, presumption.’ Sartorius, though sharply assailed, did not waver. Immovable in his faith, he courageously defended it, and without flinching contended against the enemy. He was not afraid of the superstitious, and was determined to resist them. He wrote successively—On justifying faith against Crocus, and On the holy Eucharist; and in these works, aiming to call things by their true names, he fearlessly made use of expressions rather too strong. He published also Assertions of the Faith, addressed to the satellites of Satan.^[816] But while he remained immovable in his convictions, 534he was obliged frequently to change his place of residence. We find him at Norwic, at Haarlem, and at Basel. Other evangelical Christians were compelled like him to quit their native land. John Timann, having tasted the truth and finding that he could not freely teach it to his fellow-citizens, took refuge at Bremen, where he labored as a faithful minister for thirty years, and there died. It was no unimportant matter that the civil power should thus deprive the Christian people of their guides, and this it was to learn one day to its own cost. Sartorius could not endure exile, and he afterwards returned to his native land, where

These are the last two lines of his epitaph, written by himself.^[817] Sartorius was one of the noblest combatants of the Reformation.

Although the doctors had to take their flight, the Holy Scriptures and the Christian books remained. It is even possible that Mary of Hungary secretly promoted the printing of the Bible. This sacred book was eagerly read in the Netherlands. ‘Ah,’ people used to say, ‘it is because many of the dogmas taught by the clergy are not to be found in the oracles of God, that the reading of them is so rigorously prohibited.’ Thus the wrath of Charles and of his councillors was kindled against the authors, the printers, and the readers of these books which contradicted Rome; and a new placard made its appearance (1531), drawn up with a refinement of cruelty. It was posted up in all the provinces, and ran thus—‘It is forbidden to write, to print, or to cause to be printed or written any book whatsoever without permission of the bishops. If any one do so, he shall be put in the pillory; 535the executioner shall take a cross of iron, he shall heat it red-hot, and applying it to his person shall brand him; or he shall pluck out one of his eyes, or cut off one of his hands,^[818] at the discretion of the judge.’ The papacy in the sixteenth century was not in favor of freedom of the press.

At the same time, orders were given for the promulgation, every six months, without delay, of the edict of 1529. There were some things the remembrance of which Charles V. was not willing that his faithful ones, as he called them,^[819] should for one moment lose. Men were bound always to keep in mind the sword, women the pit, and the relapsed the fire. Three good thoughts these were, fit to keep alive the fidelity of the faithful. The government did not restrict itself to words. A little while after, the agents of the imperial authority at Amsterdam, entering by night into certain houses, which they had marked during the day, crept noiselessly to the bedsides of those whom they sought, seized nine men, ordered them to put on their hose immediately and without murmuring, and then carried them off to the Hague. There, by the command of the emperor, they were beheaded.

They were suspected of preferring the baptism of adults to that of infants.^[820]

These executions produced profound irritation among the free population of the Netherlands, and in some places they offered resistance to the caprices of the autocrat. Deventer contained many evangelicals. Consequently, some envoys of the emperor received instructions, in 1532, to make an inquiry concerning those suspected of Lutheranism. It was intended to place the unhappy town under the régime of the fire, the sword, 536and the pit. When the envoys of Charles arrived at the gates of the city their entrance was prohibited.^[821] They were amazed to see the townsmen sending away the deputies of their sovereign. ‘We demand admission of you in the name of the emperor,’ repeated the imperial officers. The senate and the tribunes of the people assembled. The question was hardly discussed. The ancient Dutch immunities still lived in the hearts of these citizens, and they intended to put in practice the right of free manifestation of conscience. The deputies of the senate therefore went to the gates of the city and said to the envoys of Charles—‘We can not by any means consent that foreign commissioners should usurp the rights which you claim. If you have any complaint to make, carry it before the burgomaster or before the delegates of the senate.’ Noble and courageous town, whose generous example is to be held in honor!

All magistrates were not so bold. At Limburg, a small town in the province of Liège, many of the townsmen had been converted to the Gospel without being exposed to any interference on the part of the magistrates. Among these converts was one family, all of whose members were consecrated to God. There were six of them: the father and mother, two daughters and their husbands. Called one after another to the knowledge of the Saviour, they had taken their lamps in their hands in order to show to others the path of life; and truly their upright and holy life enlightened those who were witnesses of it. Some emissaries of the emperor arrived (1532), and no one stopped them at the gates. The home of this family was immediately pointed out to them. They entered the house, and seized father and mother, sons and daughters. Sobs and groans were now heard in this abode, which used before to resound with the singing of psalms. In the midst of their great trial, however, these six Christians 537had one consolation—they were not separated from each other, but were condemned to be all burnt at the same fire. The pile was constructed outside the town, near the heights of Rotfeld.^[822] While they were being led to execution, the father and mother, the two daughters, and the sons-in-law felt, it is said, a kind of holy transport, and uttered cries of joy.^[823] It appears, however, that some among them showed signs of momentary weakness. Therefore, desirous of strengthening each other, they began to sing together their beautiful psalms—‘God is our God forever and ever; He will be our guide even unto death.’ Thus they reached the place of execution; and each of them breathed his last calling upon the Lord Jesus.^[824] This blessed family had been removed to heaven all together, and without any painful separation.

Persecution did not slacken. In 1533, four men accused of holding evangelical doctrines were put to death at Bois-le-Duc. Five men and one woman, terrified at the prospect of death, abjured their faith and were condemned to walk in procession before the host, carrying lighted tapers, to cast their Lutheran books into the fire, and to wear constantly on their garments a yellow cross. One man, named Sikke Snyder, was beheaded at Leeuwarden for having received baptism as an adult;^[825] and not long before, a woman, for the same crime, had been thrown into the lake of Haarlem. This was the most expeditious way to get rid of her; but they did her husband the honor of burning him alive, with two of his friends, at the Hague.

The like crimes marked the year 1534. A potter of Bois-le-Duc lost his head for the crime of being an evangelical. William Wiggertson suffered the same fate, but secretly, in the fortress of Schagen; and Schol, a priest 538of Amsterdam, distinguished for his eloquence and his virtues, was condemned to the flames at Brussels.^[826]

These horrors—and there were many besides those we have described—could not but produce a fatal reaction. The persecutions which befell the adherents of the reformed faith in those lands in which the change was most thorough, in the Netherlands, in France, in England, and in Scotland, were to exert a lasting influence. It is felt even to the present day. It may be said that the martyr-fires are hardly yet extinguished, that the bell of Saint Bartholomew’s Day is still resounding, and that there are yet visible the last of those numerous bands of prisoners and of refugees, defiling some of them to the galleys, others into exile. In the Lutheran countries, and especially in Germany, where the blood of the martyrs was not spilt at all, or to a very small extent, there is a certain moderation, and even some kindliness in the intercourse between Roman Catholics and Protestants. The conflict there is scientific only. But it is otherwise in the countries of the reformed or Calvinistic faith. There people do not forget the fire and the sword, and the two parties appear to be irreconcilable. If this is the present result of cruelties perpetrated more than three centuries ago, we may imagine what the effect must have been on contemporaries. They filled the hearts of pious men with sorrow and distress.

As early as 1531, it was generally acknowledged that the whole body of the people would embrace the Reformation if persecution ceased. Those who were not guided by the fear of God were exasperated and enraged with the persecutors. Nor was this the worst; the want of spiritual leaders left the field open to enthusiasts who believed themselves inspired, and to impostors who pretended to be so. If the pastors are set aside, fools or knaves set themselves up as prophets, and, instead of instructing the people, lead them astray. It appears that some of the 539disciples of the enthusiastic divines whom Luther and Zwinglius had strenuously opposed, when driven out of Germany and Switzerland, brought their visions into the Netherlands. They knew that these lands had long been in the enjoyment of liberty, and hoped that they should be able to propagate their system there without disturbance. The persecutions of the Romish clergy threw many evangelicals into their arms. The system of these enthusiasts was altogether opposed to that of the reformers. They differed, in particular, as to the doctrine of the powerlessness of the soul for good. They consequently separated into two parties. Man, said some of their doctors, is able by his own power to obtain salvation. For these, Christ was a schoolmaster rather than a Saviour; and some of them, Kaetzer, for example, positively denied his divinity. ‘He redeems us,’ they said, ‘by pointing out the path that we ought to pursue.’^[827] Others asserted that the flesh alone was subject to sin, that the spirit was not affected, and that it had no share in the fall. All of them looked upon the evangelical church and its institutions as a new papacy. Both alike, they affirmed, the new and the old, were about to be destroyed, and a great transformation of the world was about to be effected. It would begin by depriving kings and magistrates, and by putting pastors and priests to death.

These so-called prophets frequently made their appearance without any one’s knowing whence they came or whither they went. They began by saluting in the name of the Lord. Then they spoke of the corruption of the world. They announced the end of all things, naming even the day and the hour, and they styled themselves the messengers of God to seal the elect with the seal of the covenant. All those who were sealed were about to be gathered together from the four quarters of the world, and all the ungodly would be destroyed. They especially addressed themselves to artisans, and in them they found 540men more intelligent than the peasants of the rural districts, men wearied with their laborious occupations, bitter about their low wages, and full of eager desire for a better position. The principal leaders were tailors, shoemakers, and bakers. The majority of these respectable classes stood aloof from the dreams of the fanatics, and continued to earn their livelihood by honest means. But the enthusiasts among them in Switzerland, in Alsace, in Germany, in the Netherlands, and elsewhere, proposed to form a great international league, by means of which they would live in pleasure and have nothing to do. Professing themselves inspired of God for the accomplishment of His purposes, they gave themselves up ere long to the most shameful passions and the most cruel actions. It has been remarked that the most signal example of fanaticism recorded in the pages of history was inspired by an exaggerated devotion to the papal system; and those citizens of Paris have become famous, who on the night of Saint Bartholomew, assassinated, butchered, and tore to pieces those of their fellow-citizens who did not go to mass. History, however, does present to us a fanaticism yet more disgusting, if it be not more cruel. It was that of a sect which was neither Romanist nor Protestant—the enthusiasts of whom we speak. And if we consider their relations, whether with Rome or with Protestantism, it seems to us that it is no deviation from a wise impartiality to say that the cruelties of the imperial government, frequently supported by the priests, essentially contributed to plunge these unfortunate men into their extravagances and cruelties; while the Protestant divines earnestly contended against them with the pen, and the princes with the sword.

If the fire of fanaticism was sometimes brought from Germany into the Netherlands, it was most frequently kindled there without foreign aid. The fermentation which took place in certain rude and coarse natures, and the persecutions of Rome, developed there an unwholesome 541heat which irritated men’s tempers and inflamed their imaginations. There was no need here of Stork, of Munzer, or of Manz.

In 1533, agents of the Government discovered arms in the possession of some of the enthusiasts.^[828] ‘Assuredly,’ said Queen Mary, ‘this is not far from sedition.’ Melchior Hoffmann, a Suabian fur-trader, a clever, eloquent, and audacious man, had before this time spent some years at Embden, in East Friesland, and had given himself out as one called of God to contend against the doctrines of the pope, of Luther, and of Zwinglius, and to manifest the truth to the world.^[829] John Matthison, a Haarlem baker, an acute, daring, and immoral man, now at Amsterdam, had enthusiastic raptures, and asserted himself to be Enoch.^[830] He pretended that as such he was charged to announce the coming of the kingdom of God; he predicted sufferings so horrible against those who refused to believe him, that the poor people in their terror fancied they already saw hell opened before them; and subdued by alarm they blindly believed every thing that Enoch told them. Among his disciples was one John Bockhold, a Leyden tailor, whom he ordained, and whom he sent out with eleven others (twelve apostles!) to preach the new Gospel. The restitution of all things is at hand, said these new prophets. A spiritual and temporal reign of Christ is approaching. None will be admitted but the righteous; the ungodly must be destroyed beforehand. Even ministers must take the sword and establish the new kingdom by force. Then, desirous of assigning to each his part, they declared that ‘Luther and the pope were, indeed, both of them false prophets, 542but that Luther was the worst.’^[831] ‘The times of persecution are ended,’ cried they, in the midst of the populations terrified by the cruelties of Charles the Fifth; ‘you have nothing more to fear. The moment is come in which the faithful will triumph over the whole earth, and will render unto tyrants double for the evil which they have done them.’ If any one hesitated to believe the prophets, they charged him with resisting the Spirit of God; called him Korah, Abiram, or Jambres; and the poor people, afraid of opposing a divine mission, accepted with trembling the promises which were to put an end to their sufferings. The tailor Bockhold preached thus at Amsterdam, Enkhuysen, Alkmaar, Rotterdam and elsewhere, establishing in all these places small communities of the faithful, numbering from ten to twenty persons. The thought that the cruel tyranny of Charles was about to be brought to judgment, and that it was necessary to hasten the end, took possession of men’s minds. They became restless, and had no thought but of taking vengeance on those whose instruments were the pit, the fire, and the sword.

One night, in a solitary spot in the province of Groningen, a man rose in the midst of a great multitude which had come together from all quarters. He was naked to the waist, his soul was troubled, his intellect disordered, his thoughts incoherent; and, in a state of the strangest hallucination, he cried out with an unsteady and inharmonious voice, ‘I am God the Father.... Kill, kill the priests and the monks; kill the magistrates of the whole world, but especially those who govern us. Repent ye, repent ye! Behold, your deliverance is at hand.’ This maniac, whose name was Hermann, gave utterance to terrible groans and vociferations,^[832] and heated and 543inflamed as he was, he drank great draughts of wine to allay his thirst.

The rumor was continually gaining ground that the hour of judgment was approaching, that all the faithful would be saved, but that unbelievers would perish under severe chastisements. More than three hundred men hurried together in a single night, filled with alarm, and demanded with loud cries the baptism which was to shelter them from the judgments of heaven, and they received it, convinced that all those who had not received it were going to perish.

A spirit of darkness was more and more diffusing itself among the poor and ignorant men who were terrified by the executions. It seized even upon the most vulgar classes, worked them up to a state of fatal fear, and subjected them to the force of extravagant imaginations. One night, a young gardener ^[833] got up and went to the bedside of Hermann, who gave himself out as the Father eternal, and said to him, ‘I am the Son of God.’ Then, filled with pity for the wretched ones who were persecuted by the agents of the emperor and of the priests, and who did not believe in the deliverance proclaimed, he cried out, ‘O Father, have pity on the people: have pity! and pardon.’ A great crowd had assembled; he took a cupful of strong drink and drank it, intending to honor the Holy Spirit; then mounting on a chair, he uttered piercing cries, proclaiming himself the Son of God. Seeing his mother in the crowd, he turned to her: ‘Dost thou not believe,’ he said before them all, ‘and dost thou not confess that thou hast brought forth the Son of God?’ The poor woman, astonished and alarmed, not knowing what had happened to her son, replied quite simply that she did not. The deluded man then flew into a rage and so terrified his poor mother that she stammered out, tremblingly, that she did believe it. But one of the men who were present, having 544declared that he for his part did not believe it at all, the demoniac seized him and hurled him violently into the filth of a dunghill that lay near a cow-shed. ‘Behold,’ he said, ‘thou art lying in the abyss of hell.’ A robust man, who had good sense and was indignant at these fooleries, now seized him and threw him down. Others, not very tolerant, threw themselves upon the raving maniac and overwhelmed him with blows; so that the unfortunate man had much difficulty in making his escape by flight from the hands of those who so roughly chastised him. As to Hermann, he was arrested by order of the magistrate, conducted to Groningen, and cast into prison. The atrocious cruelties of Louis XIV. also gave rise to similar acts on the part of enthusiasts. But there is no room for comparison between the sincere and often pious Camisards and the coarse and impure fanatics of the Netherlands. These facts of different kinds agree only in showing the fatal consequences of the criminal persecutions of the papacy. The sect of the enthusiasts, however, became purer in course of time.

At the same time an important change was gradually effected among the evangelicals who remained faithful to the Word of God. A profound acquaintance with the history of the Netherlands in the sixteenth century has not in all cases excluded a mistake—not, however, very widely spread—as to the origin of the Reformation in these provinces. It has been asserted that it had found its way thither, not through Germany, but through France, by means of the Huguenots.^[834] We have seen that it came direct from Wittenberg, and that at the very beginning of the movement. From what took place at Antwerp 545and in other towns, there is no room for doubt on the subject. But after those mad, fierce displays of fanaticism, that portion of the evangelicals which had continued sane (and this formed the great majority), sided by preference with the French and Swiss Reformation; and step by step the Netherlands, which had apparently embraced the Reformation of Luther, attached themselves to that of Calvin. Geneva took the place of Wittenberg. Viglius, who was appointed by Charles the Fifth president of the great council at Mechlin, said—‘There are but few who adhere to the confession of Augsburg; Calvinism has taken possession of almost all hearts.’^[835] To assert that the sole cause of this movement was the fanaticism which passed from the banks of the Rhine into the Netherlands would be an exaggeration. There were other causes at work in this transformation; but the enthusiasm, the disgust, and the alarm which it aroused went for much. This fact is no disparagement to Lutheranism, for Luther and his adherents were ‘at this time the most vigorous censurers of these disorderly proceedings.’ One other cause besides might be assigned for the change, so remarkable and almost unique, which was brought about in the Netherlands. It was in this country that the most furious persecution raged. Now, it has been remarked that those reformed parties which were the objects of violent persecution were those which rejected images, crucifixes, and every thing which tradition has bequeathed to some Protestant churches, and resolved to maintain the conflict according to the teaching of the Scriptures, only by the word of their testimony and by the blood of the Lamb. This remark is worthy of some attention; but it must not be forgotten that no one drew more strength than Luther did from the arsenal of the Word of God.

At this point the history of the Netherlands presents to us a noble spectacle: we see on the one hand the little ones, those unknown to the world, serving God with fervor and indomitable resolution, and on the other hand, persecutors thirsting for their blood, and conflicts and martyrdoms awaiting them. The heroism of the lowly appears infinitely small in the eyes of the world. In our eyes it is one of the glories of the Reformation, that in its history the little ones are especially brought before us. This is one of the features which distinguish it from secular history, which takes delight chiefly in palaces and in the splendid achievements of conquerors.

At Brussels, Antwerp, Louvain, Ghent, and other towns, there were many friends of the Gospel. Evangelical Christianity was continually gaining strength, but at the same time Romish fanaticism was also on the increase. Ghent, a town of such extent that it was called a country rather than a town, contained at this period numerous adherents of the Reformation. So much did they hunger and thirst after sound doctrine that, in 1537, when a preacher who spoke French only preached the Gospel in this town, where nothing but Flemish was understood, numberless hearers thronged around him and hung upon his lips. Pierre Bruly (Brulius)—this was his name—spoke with such fervor of spirit, and with eloquence so forcible, that the Flemings, although they could not understand what he said, were edified by the earnest and affectionate feeling with which he spoke. When the sermon was over, some of his hearers who could afford it, anxious to know 547exactly what was said by a preacher who pleased them so much, betook themselves to persons who were acquainted with both languages, and, taking out of their pockets the small bag in which they carried their money, said to them—‘Translate to us, if you please, the discourse which the preacher has delivered; we will give you so much for it.’^[836] More than three hundred of the Ghentese, men and women, appear to have been converted by the preaching of Bruly. As he was anxious, however, to address people who could understand him, he left Flanders three or four years later, and went to Strasburg, where he succeeded Calvin as pastor of the French Church. People said of him—‘He has, like the young Picard (Calvin) a pure doctrine and a spotless life.’ We shall meet with him again hereafter in Belgium.

Happily, other friends of the Gospel still remained in Ghent. There was Clava, an old man in years, said Erasmus, but who always renews his youth like the spring-tide and bears the most beautiful fruit; Jean Cousard also, who had been a correspondent of Zwinglius; and especially the four Utenhovs. Nicholas Utenhov, a distinguished jurisconsult, an elegant littérateur, a wise, modest, and upright man, long held at Ghent, with high honor, the presidency of the Supreme Council of Flanders. Every moment of leisure that he could snatch amidst the noises of the palace, the numerous causes brought before him, the exclamations of the suitors and the advocates who were about him, Utenhov employed in reading the Holy Scriptures; and he frequently devoted to the study of them part of the night.^[837]

Martin van Cleyne, a physician, a commentator on Hippocrates and Galen, tasted the Word of God, rejoicing to see how faith and the Gospel healed sick souls 548and gave them a new life. In the practice of his art he had never seen such marvellous cures; and he said to himself that, in spite of all the efforts which physicians make to heal them, men nevertheless die at last; while Jesus Christ heals forever and makes immortal. He therefore began to communicate to his friends and neighbors the sovereign remedy which he had discovered. But, being persecuted by the Inquisition, he went to London under the assumed name of Micron, and became pastor of the Belgian church there.^[838]

When Alasco arrived at Louvain he found there zealous partisans both of the papacy and the Gospel; on the one side theologians and fanatical monks, and on the other a little flock among the citizens who received gladly the light of the Gospel. A lady, belonging to one of the principal families of the town, Antoinette Haveloos (born van Roesmals) many of whose ancestors had in old times occupied the foremost place in the state, was animated with a lively piety, and, by her virtues, was an example to all the town.^[839] She possessed at this time a competency, which she afterwards lost, and she joyfully practised hospitality. It was in her house that Alasco took up his abode when he came to Louvain.^[840] Antoinette was then about fifty-two years of age, and she resided at a place called Bollebore, from a fountain situated near the river La Vuerre. ‘Above all things she was given to reading and meditating on the Holy Scriptures; and by this means she became acquainted with the will of God, which she also put in practice, discharging towards her 549neighbors the offices of charity.’^[841] She was, moreover, regarded as the soul of the Reformation in Louvain. She had a daughter named Gudule, elegant in figure, perfectly beautiful and refined, at this time in the flower of her age.^[842] Gudule was reserved and modest, and did not make much display of her religious sentiments; but she had deep feeling and especially great love for her mother. Antoinette’s family circle was large, and her nephews and nieces had almost all become believers in the Gospel.

The Reformation also counted numerous friends beyond the limits of this family. The most faithful evangelist of Louvain was Jan van Ousberghen. His was not a spirit restless with rash zeal. The bookseller Jerome Cloet, who was well acquainted with him, called him ‘the quietest man in Louvain.’^[843] He appears to have been well educated, and to have read the Latin works on the faith which were published in Germany and elsewhere. He let no opportunity slip of making the Gospel known, and souls were enlightened by his private conversation. ‘To the instructions of Jan van Ousberghen,’ said a pious woman, Catherine, the wife of the sculptor Beyaerts, ‘I am indebted for the sentiments which I profess.^[844] Still more frequently Ousberghen spoke at meetings held in private houses, in the farms of the neighborhood, and in the open air. There were also at Louvain a small number of priests who, although they acted with less freedom than Ousberghen, nevertheless exercised a powerful influence. Among them was one man of sixty, feeble in body, his head hoary with age, modest, but very learned. His name was Paul van Roovere. He possessed many hymns, psalms, and other writings in the vulgar tongue (Flemish), besides the Holy Scriptures, in the study of which 550he spent his time.^[845] He was a poet and was very skilful in versification; he was likewise a musician and player on the flute. The evangelicals of Louvain frequently accosted him when they saw him in the street, at church, or in the cathedral of Louvain, where he appears to have discharged some ecclesiastical functions. The sculptor Jan Beyaerts, one day in Lent, entered into conversation with him in St. Peter’s church, opposite to the altar of St. Ann. They spoke of the communion, and Master Paul, setting transubstantiation aside, said that the holy supper was simply a pledge which Christ had left to us of his passion by which we are saved. Master Paul had established a charitable fund for the poor reformed Christians; and when he went to the house of Catherine Sclercx, the wife of Rogiers, he used frequently to give her money to distribute to the poor, ‘because he knew that she liked to visit the houses of the needy.’^[846] This pious priest was at the same time an agreeable man, and his conversation ‘turned upon entertaining subjects.’ He was a handsome old man, always kindly and good-humored. ‘Sincere convictions,’ it has been observed, ‘do not exclude the love of the fine arts or the graces of wit.’^[847]

Master Paul had a friend, Matthew van Rillaert, with whom ‘he often talked about the word of God and the sacrament of the Eucharist, and discussed the questions whether communion should be in both kinds and whether priests ought to marry.’ ‘Ah,’ said Matthew, ‘better take a wife than commit the sin of fornication.’ He often went to the shop of the bookseller Jerome Cloet, and ‘there religious subjects were talked of, the councils of the Church and justification by faith.’^[848] But among 551the believers, of Louvain the most eminent was Master Peter Rythove, school-master of St. Gertrude, who, in this capacity, was entrusted with the education of young men intended for the ministry. He was a well-informed man, and the most learned of the theologians. He was a frequent visitor at the bookseller Cloet’s, and used even to buy books on botany, medicine, and other sciences.^[849]

One of the most noteworthy personages of the evangelical band at Louvain was Jacques Gosseau, bachelor of the Civil and Canon Laws, and formerly dean of the Drapers’ Guild. He lived on his fortune. He had married Mary, the niece of Antoinette van Roesmals. One day, at vintage-time, when Antoinette, her daughter Gudule, and other friends were at his house, Mary said that she had a great longing to eat some grapes, and proposed to go to Rosselberg to the vineyard of her sister Martha. The Rosselberg is a line of hills which takes its name from the ferruginous color of the soil. Extensive vineyards existed there till the seventeenth century. ‘With all my heart,’ said Antoinette. The company rose to depart. It was in the afternoon. When they came to the ramparts, near the gates of the city, they met the evangelist Van Ousberghen, Jan Beyaerts and his wife Catherine. They walked on together towards the Rosselberg; and on the way Jan van Ousberghen, began to read in the New Testament. They arrived at the vineyard. The porter, said one of the accused, was ‘a believer.’ They ate some grapes; and then on their way back the party took the road to Boschstrathen, and sat down for a while in the fields. Jan van Ousberghen again took his precious volume and read in the New Testament. Many persons were afterwards prosecuted for this innocent walk.^[850]

But the conferences on matters of faith, as they used 552to call them, were chiefly held at the house of Antoinette, either at Bollebore or at the black Lys, where she afterwards took up her abode.

There were present both men and women of various ranks, who freely conversed with one another. It is probable that Alasco attended these meetings, especially those held at Antoinette’s house, in which he often resided. His name, however, does not appear in the interrogatories. Jan Schats often read the Bible there. There is no purgatory, said he; the soul, when it escapes from the body, rests until the day of judgment in a place which God knows.^[851] Jan Vicart, the haberdasher of the Golden Gate, said—‘There are two churches, the Christian church and the church of Rome. It is enough for us to make confession to God, because from Him cometh all salvation. I receive the sacrament in remembrance of Christ, and I bring up my daughters in these sentiments.’^[852]

The faith of some of these disciples was not steadfast and pure. The sculptor Beyaerts was one of the frequenters of these meetings; but he held some views which were more ardent than profound, and had more enthusiasm than steadfastness in his faith. In each of the churches of St. Peter and St. James there was a picture intended to impress the parishioners and induce them to come forward to the help of souls detained in purgatory. Beyaerts devoted himself to the task of putting an end to the scandal which these pictures occasioned among his friends. One evening he went by stealth into St. Peter’s church, near the tower, under the bells, by the side of a crucifix. He was alone in the church; he took down the picture, concealed it under his gown, and went quickly away. Meeting Catherine Sclercx, she saw the picture and said to him, ‘Well done.’ Beyaerts did the same with the picture in St. 553James’s church, and all his friends were pleased, and said that these pictures were ‘wicked cheats.’ But this same man, now so bold, displayed lamentable weakness when brought before the judges.

But there was something more than weakness. The Spirit of God was carrying on His work at Louvain and in the Netherlands, but the evil one was not idle. A black sheep had crept into the fold. George Stocx, a member of a chamber of rhetoric, and author of various songs and poems, appears to have belonged to the party of the libertines. While he was a devout speaker at the meetings he denied his doctrine by his manner of life. He sought after opportunities of luxurious living, sang verses which excited laughter, danced and drank. One evening after attending a feast at Gempe, he was so drunk when the time came for returning to Louvain that they had to throw him into a wagon.^[853]

It was otherwise with Jan van Ousberghen. With respect to him there was but one testimony. He was a holy man, people said, who had suffered much for the glory of God.^[854] He had strong faith in Christ, great piety, singular modesty, and marvellous steadfastness. He was the soul of the meetings held in the house of Antoinette. But two calamities successively occurred to waste the little Christian flock. An epidemic broke out in Louvain, apparently in 1539. It attacked especially the household of Antoinette, and carried off her husband and several of her children. The disconsolate widow took refuge, with Gudule, who was spared to her, in one of the towers of the town. These towers looked over the country, and the plague-stricken were compelled to resort to them, to prevent contagion spreading in the town. This epidemic, which took from Antoinette the objects of her tenderest affections, made a change also in her condition of life. She was henceforth ‘a poor old woman, laden with poverty and sufferings, having lost all that she possessed, 554even her very means of subsistence.’^[855] But the Gospel remained to her.

The persecution of 1540 had been only partial. The inquisitors were provoked to see that it had not put an end to what they called heresy. Evangelical books and lectures were multiplied. The theologians and the monks—the band of Pharisees, as they were called by a minister of the day—multiplied their complaints and outcries. The Council of Brabant resolved, at the beginning of 1543, to make a general arrest of suspected persons at Brussels, Antwerp, Oudenarde, and especially at Louvain, where the reformed Christians were taking greater and greater liberties. In the course of March the attorney-general, Peter du Fief, a man notorious for his violent and unjust proceedings, arrived at Louvain. He determined, in order that none of those who had been denounced to him might escape, to apprehend them in a body during their first sleep. One night, in the middle of March, when it was already dark, Peter du Fief assembled his men and informed them that the business in hand was the seizure and imprisonment of all the heretics, without any noise, and without words, in the darkness. Between ten and eleven o’clock at night the officers set out on their way. The poor people, mostly of the class of artisans, wearied with their day-labor, had lain down to rest in their beds without a thought of any thing happening.^[856] The officers knocked at the door. If perchance the father of the family, on account of his hard work, had fallen into a sound sleep and did not immediately come to open to them, the door was broken down, and these brigands hastened violently to the very bedside of the father. There they took by surprise the husband and the wife, who, starting out of sleep, stared about, wondering what was the matter. The sergeants immediately 555laid hands on the husband, sometimes on both husband and wife, according to orders, and took them away.^[857] Thus were seen leaving their homes the sculptor Beyaerts and his wife Catherine, Dietrich Gheylaert and his wife Mary, van der Donckt and his wife Elizabeth. The children, who were beside their parents, sometimes even in the same bed, were the last to wake, and they all trembled. The whole house was filled with armed men, torches were flaring here and there, soldiers were ferreting about in every corner in search of books or men—a suspected book was sufficient ground for a sentence of death—drawn swords, halberts and cuirasses gleamed in the pale light of the torches. The little ones, who saw their father and mother ill-used, dragged one this way, the other that way, and carried off with their hands bound, wept and cried aloud. They called after them—‘Where are you going, father? Where are you going, mother? Who is going to stay here? Who will give us our food to-morrow?’ The sergeants, fearing that the neighbors would hear these cries and come to help them, seized the little ones. ‘The poor children were flogged,’ says the chronicler. As they only cried the more, their mouths were closed by force.

Nevertheless, the constables did this to no purpose, for the uproar was too loud not to be heard. Many evangelicals, ‘when they perceived these boors were coming,’ threw themselves out of bed, leaped over the walls in their shirts, and made their escape. Sometimes ‘some good people’ came with all speed to warn their friends, who then escaped; and this greatly increased the fury of the tyrants. The attorney-general, inflamed with rage and hatred against the truth, kept up the hunt all night with his men; and nothing could pacify his wrath but committing to prison twenty-three of the townsmen, fathers and children, husbands and wives, brothers and 556sisters, of various classes. He had them confined in different places, giving orders that they should not be allowed to read, to write, or to speak to any one, whether it were father, mother, or wife. Besides those whom we have named, there were also seized Antoinette van Roesmals, the chaplain Paul de Roovere, the parson van Rillaert, the Sclercx, Schats, Vicart, Jerome Cloet, and others, who, when thus torn away from their homes, were persuaded that nothing short of their death would allay the rage of their enemies.

The honest townsmen of Louvain could not restrain their indignation. ‘What!’ said they, addressing the cruel du Fief, ‘thou art sending to prison people who by their virtue gave a good example to the whole town! Have they stirred up any sedition? Hast thou seen a single one of their number with a bloody sword in his hand? How durst thou lay on innocent men those unclean and sacrilegious hands with which thou hast pillaged the holy places, and robbed the poor of their earnings? Will not these houses into which thou dost make bold to enter for the purpose of persecution fall on thee?‘^[858]

The examinations forthwith began. Latomus, a doctor of the university of Louvain, famous for his controversy with Luther, the dean, Ruard Tapper, of Enkhuysen, whom the pope six years before had nominated inquisitor-general of the Netherlands, and others besides, betook themselves every day to the prisons; and they went ‘as if they were going to a combat, equipped and tricked out at all points against a body of poor weak women. The younger prisoners modestly kept silence; but the more experienced turned the arguments of the theologians against themselves, so that the latter retreated in confusion.’

557It was on the 20th of March, 1543, that the inquiry began. Catherine Sclercx, wife of Jacques Rogiers, an apothecary, was brought up pede ligato on that day, on March 31, and on June 13. ‘What do you hold about the invocation of saints?’ they said to her. ‘I am little practised in discussion,’ replied Catherine, ‘but I will not hold any thing except what Holy Scripture teaches. It is there said we must worship God only and there is only one Mediator. I have therefore purposed in my own mind to worship and to invoke none but Him.’ ‘What impudence!’ said the theologians; ‘thou art venturing, with hands full of uncleanness, to present thyself before God. If the emperor came into this town, wouldst thou not, before approaching him, appeal to Monsieur de Granvella, in order that he might recommend thee to him?’ ‘But see,’ simply answered Catherine, ‘suppose the emperor were at a window and called me with his own tongue, saying—“Woman, thou hast to do with me; come up hither, I will grant thee what thou shalt ask for,” would you still counsel me to wait until I had gained friends at court?’ This noble woman then said, with a holy boldness—‘I have a heavenly emperor, Jesus Christ, the redeemer of the world. He says aloud to all men, Come unto me! It is not to one or two of you, gentlemen, our masters, that he speaks this word. It is to all; and whosoever, feeling the burden of his sins pressing upon his soul, hastens in tears to respond to the call of God’s mercy, needs no other advocate, neither St. Peter nor St. Paul, to procure him access to his prince.’ The judges in astonishment rose without coming to any decision, contenting themselves with exclaiming, as they went away, ‘A Lutheran.’ This was an argument which they found unanswerable.^[859]

‘Even the women mock at us,’ said the theologians; ‘let us put an end to this trial as soon as possible, and 558let us begin with those of our own order.’ They then gave orders to bring up the priest, Peter Rythove, schoolmaster of Sainte-Gertrude. They were more afraid of him than of any one, conscious that he knew them well and had the power of divulging their frauds.^[860] Word was brought to them that he had escaped. This was an addition to their trouble. ‘Quick,’ they said; ‘let placards be posted up that he may be arrested.’ He took good care not to make his appearance, and they declared him to be an obstinate heretic. Then flying to his house, like insatiable harpies,^[861] they plundered him of every thing that belonged to him. ‘O players!’ said honest men, ‘how well you agree to perform your farces before the simple-minded people! and especially never to return empty-handed to your homes!’

They now fell upon the poor priest, Paul de Roovere, and they were determined to have him put to death with pomp and solemnity, and to exhibit him as a public spectacle. Artisans set to work and erected a platform in the great hall of the Augustines. On the day of the exhibition a great crowd of townsmen and of students filled both the hall and the adjacent streets. The procession advanced. At its head there walked a small wan old man, thin, with a long white beard, and almost wasted away with grief and exhaustion.^[862] Truly, said the spectators, this is the shadow of a man, a corpse already in a state of decomposition. It was poor Paul surrounded by armed men. Behind them came the dignitaries of the university, the heads of the convent, and others of the clergy. These doctors, at once accusers and judges, ascended the platform and took their seats in a circle, with Paul de Roovere standing in the midst of them. There sat the 559chancellor, Latomus, a great enemy to literary culture, who, when preaching one day before Charles V., narrowly escaped being hissed by some lords of the court.^[863] By his side sat the dean and inquisitor, Ruard of Enkhuysen, ‘a man whose oratory was of the poorest kind, but whose cruelty was extreme.’ Next to him was Del Campo a Zon, also an inquisitor, canon of St. Peter’s, and rector for the occasion, who was called by some ‘the devil incarnate,’ and there were several others. ‘Sergeants, armed at all points, surrounded the platform, prepared to defend these brave pillars of the Church.’ The rector, who was afterwards bishop of Bois-le-Duc, rose, enjoined silence, and said with a loud voice—‘Desirous of faithfully discharging our duty, which is to defend the sheep against the furious assaults of wolves, to kill the latter and to strangle them,^[864] we present to you, as a rotten member of our mystical body, which ought to be lopped and cut off, this man, in whose house we have found a great number of Lutheran books, and who dares even to say that to be saved it is enough to embrace the mercy of God offered in the Gospel.’

Then, turning to the people, the rector, canon, and inquisitor exclaimed—‘Beware, therefore, you who are here present, and let the danger which threatens you, and the fear of losing your souls, restrain you from despising the power of the Roman pontiffs. This wretch is condemned to be degraded from the priesthood and delivered over to the secular arm to undergo the punishment which he deserves.’

The rector was followed by Father Stryroy, prior of the Dominicans, a vehement man, whose voice was a thunder-peal of audacity and impudence. But some laughed at his storm of words, and others abhorred a course so disgraceful. Many even talked of driving the orator and the judges from their seats and of rescuing the priest 560Paul.^[865] But no one was willing to be captain and bell the cat. One glance from Paul would have sufficed; but the poor priest, weakened in body as well as in mind, remained motionless and silent, and thus disheartened his partisans. The priests also had noticed the dejection of the old man. They determined to take advantage of it; and, retiring into an adjoining hall, they employed for the purpose of inducing him to recant vehement entreaties, supplications, flattery, promises, and allurements. ‘The old man resisted all.’ The inquisitors then, provoked, calling to remembrance the tyrant of Agrigentum, who had his enemies burnt at a slow fire and his friends in a copper bull, said to him—‘We will make you suffer more grievous torture than any Phalaris ever inflicted.’ Paul trembled at these words. He was led back to prison, and monks and theologians came every day and talked to him about the cruel sufferings which were in preparation for him.

Meanwhile the attorney-general was preparing for the trial of the laymen. This lasted from March 21 to the end of April; but no sufficient evidence was obtained. The judges now had the prisoners taken into the great prison, where the rack was, and there they began that frightful and marvellous process of which it has been said that it is perfectly certain to ruin an innocent man who has a feeble constitution, and to save a guilty man if he were born robust. This lasted fifteen days. The torturers knew no pity for age, or sex, or infirmity. The poor women were victimized (géhennées) and tormented as well as the men. The piteous cries of these cruelly-tortured wretched ones were heard in the streets of Louvain. Their voices, raised by grief to a higher pitch, were borne to a distance. Inarticulate sounds, piercing words, repeated exclamations, lamentations, weeping, mournful noises, broken sobs, and dying voices spread 561terror everywhere. Throughout the town there was nothing but sighs, tears, and lamentations from people of every class, whose hearts were filled with grief.^[866] Almost all were steadfast, but one sad victim consoled the tyrants, as the chronicler calls them. They had so terrified poor Paul that the wretched old man was seen ascending the platform with trembling steps, and there he read a statement which the theologians had prepared. He declared, with a voice scarcely audible, ‘that he detested that religion which at the instigation of Satan he had hitherto followed.’ Deep sighs and broken sobs every moment interrupted him. Good men who heard him were touched with compassion at the sight of this unfortunate victim. At the command of his masters, the poor man took his books and cast them into the fire; while the doctors and the judges, with an air of pride and triumph, insulted the Gospel of God. The wretched man was placed in close confinement in the castle of Vilvorde, was fed on bread and water only, and was not allowed to read or to write, or to see any body. He was ‘like a dead body in a grave, until at length he died there of exhaustion.’

It was now the turn of the other prisoners. Jan Vicart and Jan Schats were taken to the town-hall, and there the attorney-general turned towards them a cruel countenance and said—‘My friends, I am grieved at your fate; but the devil has deceived you, and consequently you are condemned to be burnt and reduced to ashes as men relapsed into Lutheranism. If I were to act otherwise, I should not be Cæsar’s friend.^[867]

The whole city of Louvain was in a state of great excitement. 562Although executions usually took place outside the town, the inquisitors had determined that in this case the victims should suffer in the open space before St. Peter’s Church, for the sake of terrifying the people. The young Spaniard who relates these facts, and who was at this time on a visit to Louvain, went to the spot at five o’clock in the morning. Many workmen were already very busily engaged in enclosing a part of the space, that no one might pass the barrier. They next set up in the middle two crosses about the height of a man, and piled round them ‘a great quantity of faggots and other wood.’ Afterwards, the attorney-general and his attendants entered a house opposite to the church, the windows of which looked out on the two crosses. All the town companies had been ordered up ‘for daybreak,’ that the people might not rescue the prisoners. The militiamen, who had escorted the magistrates, encompassed the place, and showed by the expression of their faces that they were there ‘by compulsion and with great reluctance.’ The two prisoners at length appeared. There was first Jan Schats, now about forty-three years old, whose principal crime was having had in his house a German Bible, and read it, as well as the Life of our Lord, the Sinner’s Consolation, the Little Garden of the Soul, Emmaus, and other works bound together ‘in a leather cover.’ In addition to this, he was accused of having visited those of his own creed who fell sick and of having assisted them with his alms. By the side of Schats was Jan Vicart, haberdasher, who was charged with the like offences.^[868] These two men, coming from rigorous confinement, and having suffered cruel torture, were weak and almost half dead. Nevertheless, the bystanders heard them lamenting their sins before God, and asserting that they welcomed death, having confidence in the divine mercy.^[869]

563When their prayer was finished, the deathsman bound them to the two stakes, placed a rope with a slip-knot round their necks, and then piled faggots round them with straw and powder. At a signal from the attorney-general, he tightened the rope to strangle them. The magistrate then ‘displaying as much light-heartedness as if he had been named emperor of the Romans,’ says an eye-witness, handed to the deathsman a lighted torch, and in doing this he leaned forward so eagerly that he narrowly missed falling from the window. The eyes of the multitude were fastened on him, and they contemplated with astonishment, says the chronicler, ‘his hideous face afire with rage, his fierce eyes, his mouth which breathed out flames more terrible than those of the torch in his hand. Many there were who uttered horrible imprecations against this sanguinary monster.’^[870] ‘Ere long the fire was so large that one might have said the flames touched the clouds and would set them on fire. Some jets of flame rose to such a height and made so much noise that it might have been imagined loud voices were crying from heaven for vengeance.’

The next day it was the turn of the women. Two of them, both quite elderly, who above all had steadfastly maintained the truth of the Gospel, were condemned to the most cruel punishment, namely, to be buried alive.^[871]

One of these women was Antoinette van Roesmals, the friend of John Alasco, of Hardenberg, and of Don Francisco de Enzinas, whose ancestors had governed the state. She was now about sixty years of age, and was full of faith and of good works. It was said in the town that her kinsfolk, her friends, and even the bailiff, had offered a large sum of money that she might be set at liberty, but in vain. She drew near to the spot where she was to be laid alive in the ground. Gudule, her beautiful 564daughter, in the flower of her age, who cherished the deepest affection for her mother, would not be separated from her. ‘I will,’ she said, ‘be a spectator of the sacrifice of my mother.’^[872] It was however agreed that she should not stand by the brink of the grave in which she who had brought her into the world was to be buried alive, and she consented to remain at a distance, if only she could see her mother. Thus concealed in a place apart,^[873] she saw the pious Antoinette led to execution; she saw the grave prepared, and that her mother still remained calm. Gudule was overwhelmed, silent and motionless. She shed no tears; her whole life was in her gaze.^[874] With fixed eye she watched the progress of the dismal execution. But when she saw her mother going down alive to the place of the dead, when the servants of the executioners threw upon her some shovelfuls of earth and she began to be covered with it, Gudule uttered a cry. From this moment she could not refrain; her outcries were terrible. ‘O God!’ says an eye-witness, ‘with what lamentations, with what wailings she filled the air!‘^[875] Her tongue was at length loosed, she was no longer motionless. Reduced to despair, she began to run about the streets of the town as if she had lost her reason. Tears ran down from her eyes as from a fountain. She plucked out her hair, she tore her face.^[876] ‘The poor girl is still living,’ says the witness who has left us the narrative of these events, ‘and I have good hope that she will never be forsaken of the everlasting 565God, the Father of our deliverer, Jesus Christ, who is also the Father of the orphan.’

We have been speaking of some humble Christians of Louvain; we must now turn to their brethren at Brussels.

There had been signs of an awakening in this capital; and there were to be found in it men who were truly imitators of Jesus Christ, a class unhappily too small. One of the citizens, Giles Tielmans, a native of Brussels, was not ‘of a rich family nor of great renown,’ but he had acquired by his virtues a higher esteem, even on the part of the enemies of pure doctrine. Giles had never wronged a single creature, and he had always made it his aim to give pleasure to every body. He was now thirty-three years of age, and no one had ever had a complaint against him. If he encountered opposition he would give way. He would rather relinquish his rights than quarrel about them, in order that he might in this life maintain peace and charity.^[877] This Christian man fulfilled, both in the letter and in the spirit, the commandment of his master—‘If any man will take thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.’ He had been endowed by God with a good disposition, but ‘having begun to taste in his youth the heavenly wisdom drawn from the sacred writings, this natural goodness had improved to an incredible degree.’ His look was sweet and modest, his deportment amiable, and every thing about him revealed a soul holy and born for heaven, dwelling in a pure and chaste tabernacle. He spent the greater part of his time in visiting the sick, in relieving the poor, and in making peace between any of his neighbors who might be at variance with each other. Tielmans used to say that it was a disgraceful thing to pass one’s life in idleness. In order to avoid this, to earn his living by his own labor, and to have something to give to the poor, he had followed the trade of a cutler. He lived in a very humble way, spending hardly any thing on himself, but distributing 566among the needy the fruits of his toil, which God greatly blessed. ‘He had thus won the love of the people.’ ‘All good men were fond of talking with him; all listened to him, and all gave up their property at his bidding.’^[878] But if any one made him a present, ‘he accepted it only for the purpose of relieving some poor person known to him.’ He had at Brussels his baker, his shoemaker, his tailor, and his apothecary. Of the first he took bread for the hungry; of the second shoes for the barefooted; of the third garments to cover the naked in winter; and of the fourth medicines to cure the sick. The physician he paid out of his own purse.

His principal aim was to become well acquainted with the doctrines of the Gospel. He therefore read the Scriptures diligently, and meditated on them deeply. With so much fervor did he put forth all the energies of his soul in prayer, that ‘oftentimes his friends found him on his knees, praying and in a kind of rapture.’ He was a hard worker. He read all the best books which were written on the doctrine of salvation, but especially the Holy Scriptures; and when he explained the Christian faith, it was with so much eloquence that people exclaimed—‘O pearl of great price! why art thou still buried in darkness, whilst thou oughtest to be kept in the sight and knowledge of all the world, esteemed and prized by every one!‘^[879]

In 1541, the epidemic raged again. Famine accompanied it. ‘The republic was in great distress, and many poor people were in very great trouble.’ Tielmans sold his goods by auction, and they fetched a large sum. From this time not a day passed but he went into the public institutions in which the plague-stricken were treated. He gave them what they were in want of; and served them with his own hands. He went to the inns 567where strangers were entertained, and he removed the sick into his own house, nursed and fed them. When they had recovered their health, he gave them the means of pursuing their journey. One day he visited a poor woman who was near her confinement. She had already five children who slept with her every night. He immediately returned to his house, sent her his own bed, the only one which remained in his possession, and slept himself on straw.^[880]

He was physician not only to the bodies of men, but also to their souls. He came to the bedside of sick persons and taught them to know the Saviour. With great power he said to them—‘Trust not in your own works. The mercy of God alone can save you, and this is to be laid hold of by faith in Christ.^[881] So vast was the extent of sin that divine justice could be appeased only by the sacrifice of the Son of God. At the same time, the love of God towards man was so unspeakable that He sent his Son into the world, from the hidden place of his abode,^[882] to cleanse men from sin by his own blood and to make us inheritors of his heavenly kingdom.’ So energetic were the words of Tielmans that many of those ‘who lay upon their death beds attacked by the pestilence, in distress and consternation and a prey to all the horrors which follow in its train, seemed to recover life; and, casting away all pharisaical opinions and all trust in their own deservings, embraced the doctrine of the Saviour, and passed joyfully to their heavenly home.’ Those who escaped the contagion, having been brought by the Word to the knowledge of the truth, were scattered about in the neighboring towns, and sowed there what 568they had learnt of it; go that by these means ‘religion had been restored in its purity in the whole of Brabant.’ Such was the life of Giles Tielmans. In him faith and works were admirably united. This case is one of the fruits of the Reformation which it is worth while to know.

Persecution had not been slow in causing agitation and terror among the faithful of Louvain. Unfortunately, not all of those who ‘said that they had tasted of the Gospel and had laid hold of the true religion’ were able to persevere. There were several such at Louvain, and especially among those who belonged to the higher classes, who no longer showed any sign of true Christianity, and who, though they did not believe in Romish doctrines, yet gave out that they did, and became thorough hypocrites. They broke off intercourse with those who in their opinion might compromise them. If they had in their households any pious men, they expelled them, bidding them provide for themselves elsewhere. ‘Ah!’ said one of those who were thus turned into the street, ‘I marvel at the thoughtlessness of men. Is there any greater virtue, any ornament of life more excellent than to maintain true religion, with high courage and unconquerable spirit, even to one’s last breath? It gives me great pain to see people, who were not among the worst, lose heart at the first breathing of the storm, and like cowards put off the profession of piety.’

The same blow fell upon Brussels. The parish of La Chapelle had for its parson a fanatical priest named William Guéné, ‘a wicked rake,’ says the chronicler. The incumbent of this benefice was William de Hoowere, bishop in partibus of Phœnicia, suffragan vicar of the bishop of Tournay. But as other offices prevented his giving his personal services in the parish, he had entrusted the administration to Guéné, with the title of vice-pastor. This Guéné, ‘who ought rather to be called a wolf, considering his wicked tricks and his abominable actions,’ was 569continually making outcries in public, and particularly against the pious Giles Tielmans, a man so rich in good works. He put questions to him in his sermons, ‘swore and called upon heaven and earth to witness that, if this man were not taken out of the way and put to death, the whole country would in a little while be of his opinion.’ Guéné did not confine himself to saying these things in his church; but went to the attorney-general and formally accused ‘this innocent and excellent man.’ Peter du Fief did not wait to be told a second time. He seized Tielmans and put him in prison. Matters did not stop here.^[883] More than three hundred suspected persons, inhabitants of the towns of Brabant and Flanders, had been pointed out. Their names had been enrolled and their persons were to be seized. Many of them resided at Brussels. There were Henry van Hasselt, Jacob Vrilleman, Jan Droeshout, Gabriel the sculptor, Christian Broyaerts and his wife, a niece of Antoinette van Roesmals, and others, besides ‘a great number of the most respectable people of the city.’ But the tragical scene at Louvain had raised the alarm. Many took flight and remained in concealment in secret places. Some were, however, arrested.

There was one man more of note, and this was Justus van Ousberghen, next to Tielmans the most devoted evangelist. No one had more zeal, no one more courage, as a preacher of the Gospel. There was, however, one thing of which he was afraid, and this was the stake. Heretics were condemned to the flames; and the thought of being burnt, perhaps burnt over a slow fire, caused him unheard of uneasiness and pain. And assuredly, many might be uneasy at less. Nevertheless, he lost no opportunity of proclaiming the Gospel. He was not at Louvain at the time of the persecutions of March; but was then in an abbey about two leagues from the town, where he was at work. The poor man had sore trials to bear. His 570wife was a scold. Some time before the scenes of March 1543, Justus had been absent from Louvain three or four months, no doubt for the purpose of making known the Gospel at the same time that he was working for his livelihood.

When he returned home, his wife, ‘instead of bidding him welcome, received him in a shameful manner.’ ‘People have been to arrest you,’ she said to him; and she refused to admit him into their dwelling. Justus, notwithstanding his zeal, was a man of feeble character, and his wife ruled over him. He did not enter his house. Turned into the street, and exhausted with fatigue, he questioned with himself whither he should go. The heavens were black and the rain was falling in torrents. He betook himself to the bachelor of arts, Gosseau, and requested him to give him a bed for a single night. ‘I promise you I will go away to-morrow morning,’ he said. The Gosseaus with pleasure complied with his request. ‘You are quite chilly from the rain,’ they said; ‘first warm yourself by the fire.’ The poor man dried himself, and then took a little food. ‘God be praised,’ said he, ‘for all my miseries, and for giving me strength to rise above them!’

Shortly after the terrible night of March, Justus, as we have mentioned, was at an abbey two leagues from Louvain, where he was employed ‘in trimming with fur the frocks of the monks,’ for he was a furrier by trade. He had established himself at the entrance to the monastery, and was doing his work without a thought of impending danger. Suddenly the drossard of Brabant made his appearance, with a great number of archers. The drossard was an officer of justice whose business was to punish the excesses committed by vagrants. As the pious Van Ousberghen used to travel from place to place to get work, the magistrate had affected to consider him not as a heretic—this would have been honoring him too much—but as a vagrant. ‘At once, all the archers,’ he 571related, ‘fell upon me as a troop of ravenous wolves fall upon a sheep; and they instantly seized my skins and trade implements.’ The wolves, however, did not content themselves with the skins, they seized the man and carefully searched him. Ousberghen made no resistance. They found on him a New Testament and some sermons of Luther ‘which he always carried in his bosom.’ The archers were delighted with these discoveries. ‘Here,’ they said, pointing to the books, ‘here is enough to convict him.’ They hastily bound him and took him to Brussels; and there he was confined in the house of the drossard. The monks who had assembled were amazed at the scene of violence which was presented at their own gates. They had had no suspicion that a man who decorated their garments kept such heretical books in his pocket.^[884]

The next day two councillors of the chancery of Brabant appeared to conduct his examination. ‘We shall have you put to the torture,’ they said, ‘if you do not speak the truth.’ ‘I will speak it till death,’ he answered, ‘and I shall need no torture to compel me.’ They asked him what he thought of the pope, of purgatory, of the mass, of indulgences. ‘I believe,’ said he, ‘that salvation is given of God of his perfectly free goodness;’ and he confirmed his faith by the words of Holy Scripture. ‘Why,’ resumed the commissioners, ‘have you these books about you, since it is not your calling to read?’ ‘It is my calling to read what is necessary for my salvation,’ he replied. ‘The redemption announced in the New Testament belongs to me no less than to the great doctors or even the great princes of the world.’ ‘But these books are heretical.’ ‘I hold them to be Christian and salutary.’ The Reformation was and always will be the most powerful means of diffusing instruction. Rome said to the people—‘It is not your business to read.’ And the people, instructed by the Reformation, 572answered, ‘It is our business to read that which saves us.’

The examination continued: ‘Discover to us your accomplices, heretical like yourself,’ said the councillors. ‘I know no other heretics,’ replied Justus, ‘but the persecutors of the heavenly doctrine.’ This word ‘persecutors’ suddenly enraged the commissioners. ‘You blaspheme,’ they exclaimed. ‘If you do not acknowledge that you lie, we will make you undergo such torments as man has never yet suffered; we will tear you limb from limb with a hot iron.’^[885] ‘The drossard saw with his own eyes the monks of the convent where I was seized and which I attended,’replied he; ‘if you wish to have them taken, do so at your own good pleasure.’

Thereupon Justus was conducted to the prison of la Vrunte, into a lofty chamber, railed in and barred, in which he was left for nine weeks without seeing any one. Terrible were the assaults which he suffered in his own soul. Left without any human support, and no longer feeling in himself the same energy, the snares of the enemy, the remembrance of his sins, the image of a cruel death by burning, astounded and made him tremble. ‘Pray with me,’ he said to another prisoner; ‘entreat that the mercy of God may keep me in the article of death, and that I may happily reach the end of this Christian warfare.’ New strength was indeed given him.

On the day of the departure of Charles the Fifth, who had stayed some time at Brussels, Justus was brought before the court (January 3, 1544). The commissioners read to him the confession made before them. ‘Do you acknowledge it?’ they said. He answered that he did. ‘But,’ he added, ‘you have suppressed the testimonies of the Holy Scriptures by which I confirmed it.’ ‘Since you acknowledge this confession,’ said the councillors, ‘we summon you to retract it; otherwise you will be tormented with unheard of pains, and burnt alive.’ ‘You 573may make use of force,’ he answered, ‘but you can not compel me to this iniquity.’ ‘We give you till to-morrow to consider it.’ As he was re-entering his prison, tied and bound, Giles Tielmans approached him and said affectionately, ‘What is the matter?’ ‘The Lord calls me,’ he answered. Giles was going to speak further with him, but the archers roughly thrust him back, saying—‘Off with thee; thou hast deserved to die as much as he! Thy turn will come.’ ‘Think also of your own,’ said Giles.

On the following day, Justus was again brought before the judges. ‘Hast thou changed thy opinion?’ they said to him. ‘If thou dost not retract every thing thou wilt perish.’ ‘Never will I deny, on earth and before men, the eternal truth of God, because I desire that it should bear witness for me before the Father in heaven.’ Thereupon they condemned him to be burnt alive. ‘Thy body shall be consumed,’ they said, ‘and entirely reduced to ashes.’ This was enough to strike terror into the heart of the poor man who had such a dread of fire; but falling upon his knees he thanked God, and then his judges, for putting an end to the miseries of his life. Terrified, however, at the thought of the flames, he turned to his judges and said—‘Give permission for me to be beheaded.’ ‘The sentence is passed,’ they said, ‘and can be revoked only by the queen.’^[886]

Giles Tielmans did not leave Ousberghen; consolations flowed from his lips in accents so divine, with such energy, sweetness, and piety, that every word went to the heart of the sufferer, and drew tears from his eyes.’ Unfortunately, a great number of monks and priests kept coming, and continually interrupted these delightful conversations. ‘Do not trouble yourselves so much,’ said Justus to the monks; ‘but if you have power to do any thing for me, only entreat of the judges that I may be 574beheaded.’ His horror of burning did not abate. ‘We will see,’ they said craftily, ‘whether it can be done.’ They then urged him to receive at their hands the sacrament of the body and blood of the Saviour. ‘I long ago received it for the first time spiritually,’ he said; ‘it is engraved in living letters on the tables of my heart. Nevertheless, I do not despise the symbols, and if you are willing to give me them under the two kinds of bread and wine, according to the institution of the Saviour, I will receive them.’ The monks consented. It was a large concession on their part. The relator, however, who was in the prison, is unable to assert that the Supper was thus given to him.^[887]

On the eve of the execution, almost all the household went up to him. He was very feeble, and suffered much from thirst. He turned, however, to his friends and said—‘My death is at hand; and since all our sins were nailed to the cross of our Saviour, I am ready to seal with my blood his heavenly doctrine.’ They all wept, and falling on their knees, by the mouth of Giles they commended Justus to the Lord. When the prayer was finished, Ousberghen rose and said—‘I perceive within me a great light, which makes me rejoice with joy unspeakable. I have now no other desire than to die and be with Christ.’

Two of the councillors had gone to the governess of the Netherlands, and had requested her to substitute beheading for the stake. Queen Mary instantly replied—‘I will do so; it is a very small favor where death is not remitted.’ Was there any connection between this favor and the consent of Justus to receive the Supper, at the hands of the priests, provided it were administered under both kinds? We sometimes see even strong minds shaken by some innate aversion, such as that which Justus experienced at the thought of fire.

On January 7, early in the morning, the archers arrived. 575Justus van Ousberghen was conducted from the prison to the market-place, and there forthwith his head was cut off. While this was going on the whole prison was in tears.^[888]

The death of Justus was not enough. The priest of La Chapelle, William Guéné and his band, were determined to have also that of Giles.

On January 22, the sergeants, who were to take him into a prison where torture was applied, came for him. It was before daylight, at five o’clock in the morning, because they feared the people. When Giles heard that they were asking for him, he came; and seeing them all shivering (it was very cold weather), he made them go into the kitchen and lighted a fire for them. While they were warming themselves, he ran to his friend, the Spaniard, who was in bed. ‘The sergeants are come,’ he said ‘to take me away to death or to some crueller fate.’

Tielmans was put to the torture; and on January 25th he was condemned to be burnt. On the 27th, six hundred men were put under arms and escorted him to the place. A vast pile was erected there. ‘There is no need of so much wood,’ said he, ‘for burning this poor body. You would have done better to show pity for the poor people who are dying of cold in this town, and to distribute to them what there is to spare.’ They intended to strangle him first, to mitigate the punishment. ‘No,’ said he, to those who wished to grant him this kindness, ‘do not take the trouble. I am not afraid of the fire, I will willingly endure it for the glory of the Lord.’ He was prepared to face the sufferings which Justus had so much dreaded. He prayed, and entered a little hut of wood and straw constructed on the pile. Then, taking off his shoes, he said—‘There is no need for these to be burnt; give them to some poor man.’ He knelt down, and, the executioners having set fire to the pile, the kind-hearted 576man was consumed and his ashes were flung into the river.

The people openly murmured against the monks, and from this time began to hate them. When they came to the houses of the townsmen to ask alms, the people used to answer—‘Giles was burnt for having distributed all his property among the poor; as for us, we will give you nothing, for fear of being likewise put to death.’^[889]

Dr. Goodell was the first American Missionary at Constantinople, his wife the first American lady that ever visited the Turkish Capital, and they both remained at this post in labors of usefulness, until in their old age they returned to this country to die among their kindred. This volume is largely autobiographical, being compiled from Dr. Goodell’s Letters and Journal, containing also his personal Reminiscences written during the last year of his life. He was inimitable as a letter writer, and everything that came from his pen was marked by spirituality, a peculiarly apt use of Scripture language, and a spice of wit that enlivened his conversation and his writings to the day of his death.

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1. The Athenæum of September 25, 1875. In this article we find a curious anecdote which we admit, not without some reserve. It serves as a support to the considerations which follow. The writer of the article relates that he once heard a discussion between M. Merle and Professor Ranke respecting certain features in the lives of his favorite heroes. The former defended them at all points; while the German historian, with his sceptical temperament, seemed to take a malicious pleasure in bringing forward their weaknesses. At the close of the discussion M. Merle exclaimed with some impatience—‘But I know them better than any one, those men of the sixteenth century. I have lived with them. I am a man of their time.’ ‘That explains every thing,’ replied Professor Ranke, ‘I could not believe when reading your books that you were a man of the nineteenth century.’ As our own age differs so greatly in every respect from the age of the Reformation, it must be counted a very fortunate circumstance that a man of the sixteenth century has arisen to depict for us that great epoch.

6. ‘Cujus libelli latinitate donandi occasionem præbuit Petrus Caroli, Sorbonæ Parisiensis doctor atque prior.... Is igitur iniquis contra Farellum Viretum et Calvinum sparsis rumoribus, tandem eo prorupit ut palam illos viros, collegas et doctrina et moribus præstantissimos hæreseos accusaret, arianismi scilicet et sabellianismi, aliarumque talium pravitatum. Nulla alia tunc publica exstabant fidei ecclesiæ Genevensis monumenta præter illam (Farelli) quam diximus confessionem et Calvini catechismum quæ tamen utpote Gallici conscripta, ceteris Helveticis ecclesiis fere incognita erant. Calvinus itaque suum catechismum et Farelli confessionem latine loquentes fecit ut omnibus istis fratribus fidei doctrinam a se huc usque Genevæ traditam et falso hæreseos accusatam hac versione declararet.’

639. ‘Ut missa superstitione pontificia ad Evangelium se converteret.’—Gerdesius, Ann. iii. p. 146. It is difficult to fix accurately the times at which Alasco was in the various towns he visited. Gerdesius says that he was at Louvain in 1523. Bartels supposes that he passed to Zurich in the autumn of 1524. Alasco himself states, in his reply to Westphal, Opera, i. p. 338, that he was at Zurich ante annos quatuor et viginta. This work, printed at Basel by Oporin, bears date—Anno salutis 1560, mense Martio. This would fix the removal of Alasco to Zurich in the year 1526. A letter of Erasmus which we shall quote assigns Alasco’s stay at Basel, after Zurich, to 1525. This date seems most worthy to be relied on. Alasco may have been mistaken by a few months.

708. The first letter of Alasco to Calvin is dated from Windsor, December 14, 1548. Among the works of Alasco there are extant only four letters from the Polish reformer to the Genevese. These are of the years 1548, 1551, 1555 and 1557. But Alasco sent some books to Calvin. In the public library of Geneva are preserved two folio volumes, printed at Louvain in 1555, bearing this title:—

‘Explicatio articulorum venerandæ facultatis sacræ theologiæ Generalis Studii Lovaniensis.’—The author of these volumes is Ruard Tapper of Enkhuizen. Below the title of the first volume are the following words, in an elegant handwriting:—‘Viro sanctissimo, D. Jo. Calvin, Jo. a Lasco mittit.’

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New edition, very neat. 10 vols., 12mo.	15.00
FOOTPRINTS OF THE CREATOR	1.50
OLD RED SANDSTONE	1.50
SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS	1.50
TESTIMONY OF THE ROCKS	1.50
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 7 (of 8)

History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 7 of 8

DR. MERLE D’AUBIGNÉ’S HISTORY.

EDITOR’S PREFACE.

CONTENTS OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

BOOK XI.—(continuation.)
CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.

CHAPTER XIX.
RECALL OF CALVIN TO GENEVA.
(August 1540 to March 1541.)

CHAPTER XX.
CALVIN AT RATISBON.
(1541.)

CHAPTER XXI.
CALVIN’S RETURN TO GENEVA.
(July to Sept. 1541.)

CHAPTER XXII.
THE ECCLESIASTICAL ORDINANCES.
(September 1541.)

CHAPTER XXIII.
CALVIN’S PREACHING.

CHAPTER XXIV.
CALVIN’S ACTIVITY.
(February 1542.)

BOOK XII.
THE REFORMATION AMONG THE SCANDINAVIAN NATIONS: DENMARK, SWEDEN, AND NORWAY.

CHAPTER I.
THE AWAKING OF DENMARK.
(1515-1525.)

CHAPTER II.
A REFORMATION ESTABLISHED UNDER THE REIGN OF LIBERTY.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER III.
TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION UNDER THE REIGN OF FREDERICK I., THE PEACEFUL.
(1527-1533.)

CHAPTER IV.
INTERREGNUM—CIVIL AND FOREIGN WAR.
(1533.)

CHAPTER V.
CHRISTIAN III. PROCLAIMED KING. TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND.
(1533-1550.)

CHAPTER VI.
THE EARLIEST REFORMERS OF SWEDEN.
(1516-1523.)

CHAPTER VII.
THE REFORMERS SUPPORTED BY THE LIBERATOR OF SWEDEN.
(1519-1524.)

CHAPTER VIII.
STRUGGLES.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER IX.
VICTORY.
(1527.)

CHAPTER X.
‘CESAROPAPIE.’
(1528-1546.)

CHAPTER XI.
THE SONS OF GUSTAVUS VASA.
(1560-1593.)

BOOK XIII.
HUNGARY, POLAND, BOHEMIA, THE NETHERLANDS.

CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST REFORMERS AND THE FIRST PERSECUTORS IN HUNGARY.
(1518-1526.)

CHAPTER II.
SOLYMAN’S GREAT VICTORY.
(1526).

CHAPTER III.
DEVAY AND HIS FELLOW-WORKERS.
(1527-1538.)

CHAPTER IV.
PROGRESS OF EVANGELIZATION AND OF THE SWISS REFORMATION IN HUNGARY.
(1538-1545.)

CHAPTER V.
THE GOSPEL IN HUNGARY UNDER TURKISH RULE.
(1545-1548.)

CHAPTER VI.
BOHEMIA, MORAVIA, AND POLAND.
(1518-1521.)

CHAPTER VII.
THE POLISH REFORMER.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER VIII.
THE POLISH REFORMER IN THE NETHERLANDS AND IN FRIESLAND.
(1537-1546).

CHAPTER IX.
BEGINNING OF REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.
(1518-1524).

CHAPTER X.
‘TOOTHING-STONES.’
(1525-1528.)

CHAPTER XI.
THE VICTIMS OF CHARLES THE FIFTH.
(1529-1535.)

CHAPTER XII.
LOUVAIN.
(1537-1544.)

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The Project Gutenberg eBook of History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 7 (of 8)

History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 7 of 8

DR. MERLE D’AUBIGNÉ’S HISTORY.

EDITOR’S PREFACE.

CONTENTS OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

BOOK XI.—(continuation.) CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.

CHAPTER XIX. RECALL OF CALVIN TO GENEVA. (August 1540 to March 1541.)

CHAPTER XX. CALVIN AT RATISBON. (1541.)

CHAPTER XXI. CALVIN’S RETURN TO GENEVA. (July to Sept. 1541.)

CHAPTER XXII. THE ECCLESIASTICAL ORDINANCES. (September 1541.)

CHAPTER XXIII. CALVIN’S PREACHING.

CHAPTER XXIV. CALVIN’S ACTIVITY. (February 1542.)

BOOK XII. THE REFORMATION AMONG THE SCANDINAVIAN NATIONS: DENMARK, SWEDEN, AND NORWAY.

CHAPTER I. THE AWAKING OF DENMARK. (1515-1525.)

CHAPTER II. A REFORMATION ESTABLISHED UNDER THE REIGN OF LIBERTY. (1524-1527.)

CHAPTER III. TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION UNDER THE REIGN OF FREDERICK I., THE PEACEFUL. (1527-1533.)

CHAPTER IV. INTERREGNUM—CIVIL AND FOREIGN WAR. (1533.)

CHAPTER V. CHRISTIAN III. PROCLAIMED KING. TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND. (1533-1550.)

CHAPTER VI. THE EARLIEST REFORMERS OF SWEDEN. (1516-1523.)

CHAPTER VII. THE REFORMERS SUPPORTED BY THE LIBERATOR OF SWEDEN. (1519-1524.)

CHAPTER VIII. STRUGGLES. (1524-1527.)

CHAPTER IX. VICTORY. (1527.)

CHAPTER X. ‘CESAROPAPIE.’ (1528-1546.)

CHAPTER XI. THE SONS OF GUSTAVUS VASA. (1560-1593.)

BOOK XIII. HUNGARY, POLAND, BOHEMIA, THE NETHERLANDS.

CHAPTER I. THE FIRST REFORMERS AND THE FIRST PERSECUTORS IN HUNGARY. (1518-1526.)

CHAPTER II. SOLYMAN’S GREAT VICTORY. (1526).

CHAPTER III. DEVAY AND HIS FELLOW-WORKERS. (1527-1538.)

CHAPTER IV. PROGRESS OF EVANGELIZATION AND OF THE SWISS REFORMATION IN HUNGARY. (1538-1545.)

CHAPTER V. THE GOSPEL IN HUNGARY UNDER TURKISH RULE. (1545-1548.)

CHAPTER VI. BOHEMIA, MORAVIA, AND POLAND. (1518-1521.)

CHAPTER VII. THE POLISH REFORMER. (1524-1527.)

CHAPTER VIII. THE POLISH REFORMER IN THE NETHERLANDS AND IN FRIESLAND. (1537-1546).

CHAPTER IX. BEGINNING OF REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS. (1518-1524).

CHAPTER X. ‘TOOTHING-STONES.’ (1525-1528.)

CHAPTER XI. THE VICTIMS OF CHARLES THE FIFTH. (1529-1535.)

CHAPTER XII. LOUVAIN. (1537-1544.)

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

BOOK XI.—(continuation.)
CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.

CHAPTER XIX.
RECALL OF CALVIN TO GENEVA.
(August 1540 to March 1541.)

CHAPTER XX.
CALVIN AT RATISBON.
(1541.)

CHAPTER XXI.
CALVIN’S RETURN TO GENEVA.
(July to Sept. 1541.)

CHAPTER XXII.
THE ECCLESIASTICAL ORDINANCES.
(September 1541.)

CHAPTER XXIII.
CALVIN’S PREACHING.

CHAPTER XXIV.
CALVIN’S ACTIVITY.
(February 1542.)

BOOK XII.
THE REFORMATION AMONG THE SCANDINAVIAN NATIONS: DENMARK, SWEDEN, AND NORWAY.

CHAPTER I.
THE AWAKING OF DENMARK.
(1515-1525.)

CHAPTER II.
A REFORMATION ESTABLISHED UNDER THE REIGN OF LIBERTY.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER III.
TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION UNDER THE REIGN OF FREDERICK I., THE PEACEFUL.
(1527-1533.)

CHAPTER IV.
INTERREGNUM—CIVIL AND FOREIGN WAR.
(1533.)

CHAPTER V.
CHRISTIAN III. PROCLAIMED KING. TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND.
(1533-1550.)

CHAPTER VI.
THE EARLIEST REFORMERS OF SWEDEN.
(1516-1523.)

CHAPTER VII.
THE REFORMERS SUPPORTED BY THE LIBERATOR OF SWEDEN.
(1519-1524.)

CHAPTER VIII.
STRUGGLES.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER IX.
VICTORY.
(1527.)

CHAPTER X.
‘CESAROPAPIE.’
(1528-1546.)

CHAPTER XI.
THE SONS OF GUSTAVUS VASA.
(1560-1593.)

BOOK XIII.
HUNGARY, POLAND, BOHEMIA, THE NETHERLANDS.

CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST REFORMERS AND THE FIRST PERSECUTORS IN HUNGARY.
(1518-1526.)

CHAPTER II.
SOLYMAN’S GREAT VICTORY.
(1526).

CHAPTER III.
DEVAY AND HIS FELLOW-WORKERS.
(1527-1538.)

CHAPTER IV.
PROGRESS OF EVANGELIZATION AND OF THE SWISS REFORMATION IN HUNGARY.
(1538-1545.)

CHAPTER V.
THE GOSPEL IN HUNGARY UNDER TURKISH RULE.
(1545-1548.)

CHAPTER VI.
BOHEMIA, MORAVIA, AND POLAND.
(1518-1521.)

CHAPTER VII.
THE POLISH REFORMER.
(1524-1527.)

CHAPTER VIII.
THE POLISH REFORMER IN THE NETHERLANDS AND IN FRIESLAND.
(1537-1546).

CHAPTER IX.
BEGINNING OF REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.
(1518-1524).

CHAPTER X.
‘TOOTHING-STONES.’
(1525-1528.)

CHAPTER XI.
THE VICTIMS OF CHARLES THE FIFTH.
(1529-1535.)

CHAPTER XII.
LOUVAIN.
(1537-1544.)