^l¦^.1¦1¦^l¦l.u.M.^^¦lJ¦l¦l.T¦l¦l¦l¦^.l¦^^¦^l¦lJ¦^¦l¦M¦M.^lJ¦T.lJJ¦^U.^I.^I.^^^l/JA^^^A I Library of the ¦ H?ale EHvinitg Scbool ; • - * ¦ / 1 ft- ?: '¦.¦¦'' "' ¦•'¦¦'' '¦'¦¦¦-¦•''- '"*! 1 &#' -¦ •¦ ¦' -•' -;'- ¦" :.-¦::!•¦•.¦."*¦¦ ; 1 fe ;- |? : | ^-^l:s^^ • The Books of ¦ jfranfc Gbamberlafn porter i Winkley Professor of : Biblical Theology \ i ¦ ; M,'l'lVll.'i'.'l'.'l'i'IVl'i'|ii'l'i'l'i'l'i'l'i'Pi'ITI'priTil1'?t'iTill't'H.'|ii'l'ill'i'IV|ii'l'.i U THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY Rev.Albert J.Lyman, RESIDENCE SSS PRESIDENT STREET, SOUTH CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH. BROOKLYN. COR COURT St PRESIDENTSTS. N EW YORK. "2$^- <*u J^<-& M^~ THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN THE FIFTEENTH AND SIXTEENTH CENTURIES BEING A SERIES OF SIX LECTURES DELIVERED ON SUNDAY EVENINGS IN THE SOUTH CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH. BROOKLYN IN THE WINTER OF 1903 BY JOHN CHURCHWOOD WILSON JUNIOR PASTOR OF THE CHURCH NEW YORK 1905 Copyright, 1905, by MRS. JOHN CHURCHWOOD WILSON Press of J. J. Little & Co. Astor Place, New York But he To whom a thousand memories call, Not being less but more than all The gentleness he seem'd to be, Best seem'd the thing he was, and join'd Each office of the social hour To noble manners, as the flower And native growth of noble mind. Tennyson PREFATORY NOTE. It has been a work at once of honor and of love — for these two tones blend in every remembrance of my Associate — to bring together in this volume such notes as were accessible, recalling a series of Six Lectures entitled, " The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty," which were delivered by the Reverend John Churchwood Wilson, during the winter before his death, in the South Congrega tional Church, Brooklyn, of which he was then the Junior Pastor. Perhaps a single word of explanation as to the form of these addresses should in justice preface them. They are not carefully finished essays, and were in no degree intended or prepared for publi cation by their author. They are rather groups of memoranda, standing for familiar discourses delivered to an assembly of friends and parishion ers. Mr. Wilson was accustomed to accumulate, but not to collate, a large mass of material in his preliminary study of a theme. Then, after speak ing, he would write out rapidly the main body of his address, just as it left its warm record in his mind, but with no pause for added literary finish, and sometimes allowing gaps to remain in the writing, which could only be filled afterward by X PREFATORY NOTE. citations from the earlier arid more scattered notes. It is after some such informal fashion that the following discourses have been arranged for this publication. They have not indeed been " edited " in any sense. No change has been permitted from the manuscript. The paragraphs stand as their gifted author spoke them ; but they have received no revising touch from his hand. Certain repetitions of phrase, certain colloqui alisms of style, suited well enough for familiar talk with one's own people, would, without doubt, have disappeared from any page which a care ful student and literary craftsman like Mr. Wil son would have intended for permanency. But I have thought it truest to him to let the ad dresses, with this foreword of explanation, remain as he left them. Even in this half extempora neous form they reproduce to us, who knew and loved him, something of the true picture of his mind — genuine student, convincing preacher, de voted pastor, chivalrous friend. I venture to add the following brief record of his life : John Churchwood Wilson was born in Phila delphia, May 9, 1862. His father was Thomas Wilson, a native of Scotland, and his mother was Ruth Anna Coy, whose Quaker ancestry had long been resident in Philadelphia. John's studies were pursued at the Philadelphia academies of " Eastburn " and " Rugby." Enter- PREFATORY NOTE. XI ing Amherst College in Massachusetts, he was graduated in the class of 1885. He studied Theology at Yale Divinity School, graduating in 1888. Before his graduation he had been called to the First Congregational Church, Stonington, Conn., where he was ordained and installed pastor May 23d of that year. He remained at Stoning ton until called to the pastorate of the Centre Congregational Church, Meriden, Conn., in No vember of 1892. During this pastorate the church edifice was remodeled. Thence, early in 1896, he removed to Brooklyn, New York, to become pastor of the Puritan Congregational Church, where also he accomplished a memor able work of reconstruction and upbuilding. In 1900, under repeated and stubborn attacks of " grip," his health partially gave way, and al though his people generously granted him a year's leave of absence abroad, he was compelled to re sign, and was dismissed in June of 1901. His health, however, improved, and feeling himself able to undertake the lessened responsibilities of an Associate, he came in that capacity to the South Church, and there remained its Associate and Junior Pastor until his death, July 9, 1903. This brief foreword cannot attempt to char acterize him, or to dwell upon the volume and value of his accomplishment in his vocation. He was universally honored, and by all who knew him equally admired and trusted. He was a true scholar and gentleman, thoughtful, sensitive, lib- Xll PREFATORY NOTE. eral, consecrated, and though affable in manner, brave to dauntlessness. He possessed a spirit of unusual tone, in whose foreground dwelt a rare wealth of noble ideals and a most passionate love of liberty. His mental and moral traits were in singular unison of action, so that the painstaking search and utterance of the scholar were in him reinforced by a certain gallant and knightly fervor, imparting to all his personality and work a distinction and a beauty whose impression cannot fade from our memory. Albert J. Lyman. Brooklyn, June g, 1905. CONTENTS. PAGE Prelude i Lecture I. General Condition of Eu rope on the Eve of the Refor mation 25 Lecture II. The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty in England — Wyc lif to Cromwell .... 39 Lecture III. The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty in Germany — Luther, the Hero of the Refor mation 84 Lecture IV. The Struggle for Reli gious Liberty in Italy — Savonarola 118 Lecture V. The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty in Holland — The Tragedy of the Reformation — William the Silent . . . . 154 Lecture VI. The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty — General Conclu sion — The Practical Gains from the Reformation to the World . 195 PRELUDE. THE RELIGIOUS VALUE OF THE STUDY OF HISTORY. In any careful study of human affairs we discover that the history of religion is in separable from the history of human life ; that it is, indeed, a part of the general life of man kind; that it is indissolubly bound up with learning, with politics, with commerce, with finance; and is so involved in every phase of human life that it cannot be eliminated from any part. In the fourteenth century what passed for religion was the dominant power in the West ern world. The Church everywhere occupied a commanding and indisputable position. Kings and princes paid tribute to her and ac knowledged her lordship over them. They were all the subjects of the Church of Rome. To give to her sovereignty an authority which she did not care to claim openly for herself as a church, she had voluntarily associated with her in her rule a military form of govern ment, and professed to share with it the dig nities and forms of a universal empire. This 2 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. associate was known as the Holy Roman Em pire, which was nothing more than a fiction, so far as authority and power went, and which long served the purpose of saving the Holy See from open scandal and revolt, which would have certainly arisen had she as sumed to exercise the military power and to wield political sway ; and thus, under cover of religious authority, the Church came to exer cise for five hundred years the chief power. The Empire fought the battles of the Papacy and kept the peoples in check. But apart from this universal and oftentimes enforced dominance of the Papacy, there was also, by common consent, a very general su premacy of the priesthood throughout all lands. The priests were the learned men wherever there was any learning. They were the wise men wherever there was any wis dom. They were the able men for all kinds of affairs. Hence, they rose easily and natu rally to every kind of eminence among their contemporaries. The universities were in their hands. They established and presided over the schools. They were the writers and the statesmen of their time, and it was not until the invention of the art of printing that their dominance in Europe was or could have been broken. Indeed, long after that they RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 3 held control of the universities of the world, had almost exclusive possession of its learn ing, and were the tutors and guardians of its princes. As late as the seventeenth century France was ruled by a priest — the ablest and most magnificent ruler she ever had in fact, either before or after. It was Richelieu, the Cardinal, that actually gave France her su premacy in the councils of Europe in his own day, and prepared the way and made possible her achievements and glory under Louis XIV., the " Grand Monarch." So also in England, only a century before, a priest, Cardinal Woolsey, had been the first to see the need of a new policy for England, and had created such a policy, both domestic and foreign, which has continued to this day, and served the purpose of laying, deep and strong, the foundation for the Tudor suc cesses, and by his statesmanlike conduct in matters of education gave a mighty impulse to the future greatness of England, which has not yet spent itself. The study of history is, of course, the study of the story of man, that is to say, of the whole course of his progress and develop ment, his civilization, Christianization. It in volves a study of his languages, customs, laws, his literature, his art, and his sciences, his 4 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. philosophies and his religions. Man's his tory is the history of his intellectual, moral and spiritual development; not simply the history of his wars, of the rise and fall of dy nasties, of the intrigues of courts and the tri umphs of armies. Those events used to con stitute the greater part of what was called history. It was supposed that history was played out upon the narrow stage of the king's palace and the battlefield; and books that professed to deal with history were largely confined to describing the life of the court. They told us what were the personal habits of the monarch ; who were the officers of state who surrounded him ; how they minis tered unto his convenience and amusement. His receptions, levees, banquets and prog resses through his kingdom were all elabor ately described ; so that until recently the an nals of history were a kind of court calendar, all taken up with kings and queens, princes and princesses, with dukes and duchesses, with lords and knights and ladies, glitter and glare and fashion, silks and velvets, satins and furs, gold and diamonds, ivory and pearls. It was one long-drawn panorama of stately personages and puppets, who wore crowns and sat on thrones and carried gold, silver or ivory sticks, who rode on splendidly capari- RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 5 soned steeds in coats of mail, with great swords in their hands, or were drawn about in chariots of ivory and gold by half a score of milk-white horses. Occasionally the tedium and monotony of this Arabian Nights show was broken by the sound of the trumpet, the clang of arms and the tramp of multitudes of men ; and that in time was followed by a great slaughter of the menials and servants of the high and mighty rulers and who otherwise were not considered worthy of so much as mention in comparison with the grand and gorgeous courts; but who, in time of battle, were brought out and marshaled on the plains to fight its battles and sustain its dignities and powers. When I speak of history, I do not refer to the stage pageantry of courts, nor to the ghastly horrors of the battlefields, which made up the life of kings; but rather to the quiet, steady, sober, somewhat unobtrusive life of humanity, which flowed on outside the palace precincts, often in spite of the palace influ ences, and not infrequently tended to the de feat and overthrow of the forces within the palace itself, which sought to check and sup press it. The history of the world is the his tory of man in all the stages of his progress and in all the tendencies and purposes of his 6 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. life. It is a stream that began low down and rose higher with passing years. It is the stream of the life of the whole people, not of any particular few, be they never so great or powerful or grand. As it goes on, it creates institutions for itself, and then submerges them as they decline to conform to its pur poses, and demolishes them as they prove inadequate to its demands. The pageantry of courts is only one of these institutions. Seen in the light of this age, such parades are puppet shows; and the books that chronicle them are to us no better than works of fiction or the plays of a dramatist, so far as instruc tion or inspiration is concerned. They read well and are extremely interesting, but they do not convey to us any adequate impression of the times or inform us about the things we need to know. If you would know the history of any peo ple you must go down among the people and study them in their homes, their workshops, their offices and stores and schools. The gov ernment and the legislature are only two de partments of a people's life. They represent the people's relation to other peoples and their internal state of order and freedom. But the real life of the people is underneath all that and upholds it. Their industries, their arts, RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 7 their activities, their hopes and fears, their struggles, their successes and failures, their character, are the underlying basis upon which ultimately all other things must rest; the moulding and determining forces of gov ernment and legislature alike, so that when we come to study history in any true sense, we are studying human nature — human na ture at home and abroad — human nature in all its activities, in all its phases. We are studying character in the best possible way — character in its living relations, not only as it now is, but as it has been, and as it has been from the beginning and always, in actual con ditions, in circumstances that have actually existed. The value of this sort of study is its help to understand humanity. There is no such help to the knowledge of men as a study of those men who, in every variety and phase of human life, and with every possible motive to action, have lived out their lives on a great scale and left us the whole, with its results, to observe. The reading of fiction is sup posed to serve this purpose, and when it is good, healthful reading, it is beneficial in its revelations of character. A writer like Dick ens, who takes single traits of character and studies them in the large and presents them 8 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. isolated and alone, personifying separate traits in single individuals and setting them over against each other, unmodified and un relieved by modifying traits, has done a great service to mankind by making good traits attractive and evil ones repulsive. Still, even of novels, it is true that many of the best of them are historical novels, as are some of Scott and Victor Hugo. The dramatist also finds his greatest field in history. It is the great stage on which great minds find room adequately to stretch themselves ; and there is no field of romance ever created in the brain of the dreamer of fiction that can compare for a moment with the field of history for great themes, great characters, great occasions, startling situations and marvelous occur rences. The religious value of such a study is seen at once when you consider how large a place religion has played in the life of the world. Recall how large a portion of the Bible is historical. At least twenty-one books of the Bible, making in all a good third of its con tents, are historical books. The first ten books of the Old Testament are among the earliest history we have, and they are still the most reliable, valuable and satisfactory rec ords of those early times. The discoveries of RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 9 ancient ruins in which are records on stones have served only to corroborate these ancient documents. The first five books in the New Testa ment also are historical books. Any extended study of the Scriptures of the Old or New Testaments must of necessity involve a study of history; and the reason for this is not hard to find, for history is in the last analysis God's way with man. It is a record and a revelation of His laws for man. It is a living illustration and demonstration of the moral order. God's moral laws are seen in history just as His physical laws are seen in nature. The laws of nature are the laws of God for organic and inorganic substances. The moral laws are the laws of God for moral beings. History shows the application and the working out of these laws among men. In those civilizations that have perished, the empires that have dissolved and peoples that have disappeared from off the face of the earth, we trace in their rise and fall the causes of their success and of their failure. The su premacy of Greece, and afterwards of Rome, for several centuries is seen to be due to the qualities which in early and simple times min istered to the growth of both peoples in physical endurance, in mental force and vigor, IO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. and in moral purity and power. So, also, with increasing prosperity, came the same causes of disintegration and final dissolution. Wealth gave leisure and leisure was turned to idleness and idleness begat self-indulgence and self-indulgence provoked vice and crime ; and so corruption set in and undermined the whole fabric of the national life. Once moral vigor and integrity lost, the way was open for the inroads of every form of decay. Mental weakness soon followed and physical degeneracy was not far behind, so that the whole magnificent structures of Alexander's and of Cassar's empires collapsed from pre cisely the same causes — the loss of a real manhood and a true character on the part of the people. The laws of God concerning man as a moral being are thus shown to us on a large scale through the rise and fall of em pires. Let us look now at the value of this kind of study in some of its details. Let me name, in the first place, the religious value of the study of history in this, namely : I. It takes one out of his present surround ings and sets him down in the midst of af fairs that have no immediate personal relation to him, but which awaken his interest and ap peal to his judgment. In that way he learns RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. II to take an intellectual rather than an emo tional interest in human affairs and to judge candidly and impartially of persons, events, motives and purposes. As we see things in the present they have personal relations to ourselves; they enlist our sympathies and arouse our feelings, so that the judgment is more or less obscured and prejudice is likely to be aroused. This is manifest in all politi cal and religious discussions.. Here we are partisans, and the party slogan stirs the blood to fever heat, so that the intellect and judg ment are in abeyance for the time and preju dice and passion rule supreme; or the appeal is made to the party shibboleth and self-inter est is aroused, and the judgment is warped and conscience silenced, so that our personal relations to affairs in the present often act to raise us to the fever heat of passion or to chill us to the freezing point of fear. But in study ing these same problems in history we are taken out of ourselves, as it were, and so the personal element is removed and the bound aries of self-interest, of prejudice and of pas sion are transcended. We are thus able to see clearly, to judge calmly, and to form righteous judgments ; and that is a clear gain to one's moral and religious nature, for it helps to cultivate in him a sense of justice, of 12 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. righteousness, and of truth. It gives him a sort of standard with which to compare things in the present and helps to educate in him the habit and use of impartial and dispassionate judgment. It gives him precedents, as it were, to go by. He knows when others have made mistakes; he sees where were the slippery places in the lives of others ; and is thus better able to detect and avoid them when they arise in his own course. He has learned to condemn evil in others, and he can scarcely condone it now in himself. He has learned to admire courage and heroism in others, and he will scarcely endure cowardice and sordid ness. He has seen how in the long run evil courses had miserable, even tragic, ends, and how at last righteousness brings its blessed rewards. And so he learns to be patient and steadfast and enduring in the midst of storm and tempest, in which all things rock. II. Again, the study of history helps us to estimate the relative value of present things and so to distinguish the permanent from the transient elements of life that we are not likely to confuse them. There are always these two elements pres ent in every course of life; but it is not al ways easy to distinguish between them. It is this fact that creates confusion so often and RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 1 3 makes it so difficult to decide in every ques tion of alternatives which course to pursue, which party to espouse, which cause to advo cate in any particular case. As between a good and an evil, we naturally desire to choose the good; but how are we always to know what is good? Of two evils, choose the least ; but who is to decide which is the least ? And good men, sincere men, are found on both sides of every question. Men of char acter and men of ability are pitted against each other; and there is no doubt as to their sincerity and loyalty to their convictions. And how are you to account for it? It is man ifest that they cannot both be right ; one must be right and the other must be wrong. There can be no moral distinction drawn between the men. They are equally sincere and earn est. But there is a moral distinction in their positions, and what is the explanation of it? The difference is an intellectual one. One man has learned how rightly to estimate the value of the question at issue, to distinguish between its permanent and transient features, and so he takes his stand on the ground of the principle that is at stake and proceeds according to the expediency of the case. The other man does not distinguish between what is expedient and what is necessary, and so he 14 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. gets tangled up in 'a web of sophisms which he mistakes for principles. He mistakes, for instance, the principle for the method. Be cause there is but one principle, he argues that there is but one way to secure that prin ciple; so he confounds the method with the principle, the expedient with the necessary, and lays his emphasis on the wrong point. The difficulty, I repeat, is an intellectual one. He is not thinking clearly or straight. His in tellectual processes have become entangled and involved in a maze of difficulties. Thus it is that so many events that seem of supreme importance to some persons seem of so little importance to others. Some people think a principle is at stake when nothing but a question of expediency or of method is at issue. Many persons, for in stance, declare the Constitution of the United States to be endangered when nothing but a question of governmental policy is under discussion ; and so they take alarm at nothing and are affrighted at spectres. Again, we hear it declared that the truth is imperilled be cause certain novel and hitherto unheard-of views of the truth are being advanced. Men do not distinguish in such cases between the permanent and the transient. Truth is per manent; it cannot be imperilled. Opinions and views of things, whether they be old or RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. IS new, are transient. And it is the truth that threatens them, not they that threaten the truth. Shallow and weak-minded persons who do not know the course of religious thought are taken captive by false religious teachings, and men who are easily led about and swayed by every wind of doctrine fall an easy prey to fanciful and mystical views of things, from which a Jittle knowledge of history could have saved them. Ancient and long-exploded false hoods are always being unearthed and their skeletons dragged from their tombs or their shades evoked and conjured with, even as dead and Oriental philosophies now reappear as Theosophy, Christian Science and Faith Healing. Any one who knows the history of thought knows that these are but the wraith of long-buried philosophies, articulated and galvanized anew and sent forth under a new name to deceive the ignorant and unwary. A student of history should not be deceived by them. It is a mere question of time before the truth overcomes the falsehood and drives it in shame out of the world. "Truth forever on the scaffold; Wrong forever on the throne. Yet the scaffold rules the future, And behind the dim unknown Standeth God within the shadow, Keeping watch above His own." 1 6 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. That is the lesson that history teaches with reference to all right and all true things. The very stars in their courses fight against evil and falsehood, and there is no question what ever about the final victory. Or, take the Bible, as an instance. Consternation is con stantly being caused among faithful and con servative Christians because of a new view or method of treating the Bible, and the cry goes up from conscientious and loyal souls that the authority of the Bible is menaced and its influence is being destroyed. And so they hastened to take up cudgels in defense of the Bible. And with what result? namely: That they have disclosed at once the weakness of their position, which is not so much a zeal for the Bible as it is for some traditional or particular view of the Bible. A little knowl edge of history would have disclosed to them that the Bible is not in any danger. Why ! the Bible has stood every kind of test that can possibly be applied to it. It has been under fire ever since it has been a book. It was burned in the third century as a book of black arts, and for almost a thousand years the men whose business it was to teach it and preach it forbade its use to the people and made it a capital crime for any but a priest to be found with one in his possession. Men, women and RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 1 7 children have been slain and burned and drowned by the thousand all over Europe for having Bibles in their possession or even hear ing them read. And yet what was the first book printed on a printing press after the art of printing was invented but a Bible — the most hated and most forbidden book of those days. And whereas other books which men valued and treasured above all others and endeavored to preserve have been irretrievably lost, this book has been preserved to us through all kinds of op position, and danger, too! If you had read history you would know that you cannot imperil the Bible, and neither can you de stroy it. It has a self-preserving, self-prop agating power, a kind of elastic and buoyant quality that insures it against all persecution and conflict.' Whatever is opposed to it and whatever it condemns is bound sooner or later to come to naught. Now you may try to explain this on any ground you please. It is the clear teaching of history that the Bible not only cannot be destroyed, but it cannot be imperilled, for the more it is condemned, criticised, ridiculed and forbidden, the faster it spreads and the more deeply it takes hold on the hearts of men. It teaches us to estimate 1 8 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. events at their true value — many events which seem of the utmost importance while they are taking place, but are soon forgotten and occupy so small a place in the after ac counts of the times. Why, the conflicts and controversies and contentions which often so deeply agitated the minds of men, excite now only a passing interest in the student, if indeed they ever come to his notice at all. They were but petty, transient and insignifi cant matters whose results were not worth recording, and which failed to leave any per manent impression on the general course of events. It is thus also that men who figure large in their own times are often forgotten as soon as the earth closes over them, while many a comparatively unknown man in his day comes to have an importance to after ages out of all proportion to the position which he held in his own. He was a man of permanent significance, while the other was a transient meteor on the firmament of his age. III. The study of history furnishes us with the only possible field for the study of human nature on a large scale and in all its possible phases. It sets before us not only the actions of men, but their motives for such actions, and the consequences that flowed from them, and thus, by demonstration, enables us to see what RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 1 9 courses of life are good and what are evil ; what are desirable and what are undesirable; what are safe and beneficent, what unsafe and de structive ; what is the way up in life and what is the way down in life. Human nature remains the same in all ages, in all its essential quali ties, motives, passions, and powers. The customs, languages, laws and conditions of men change. Civilizations advance, knowl edge grows, wealth and luxury increase, the advantages and blessings of life multiply. Under these advancements human nature im proves and rises, becomes more refined and cultivated, more intelligent and enlightened, more noble, more divine. But through all these changes the essential human qualities — the qualities which have brought civilization out of savagery, knowledge out of ignorance, refinement out of gross animalism, and moral and spiritual conditions of life out of grovel ing sensualism; and those qualities which, working in the opposite directions, have wrought destructive decay and death, have destroyed men, have ruined peoples, have dis integrated empires — these same qualities are still seen to be at work in and among the men of this age, and by knowing what they have done we can predict what they will do. Cer tain laws of action are discovered in the af- 20 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. fairs of life which may be formulated and trusted with the same accuracy and certainty as the laws that govern the stars in their courses or govern the tides in their ebb and flow. There is a modern objection to the study of history based upon the intensely practical na ture of modern life, and the superiority of our conditions to those of any other age. " Why should we," asks the objector, " bother our selves about the quarrels, the contentions, the follies and the foibles, the struggles and the battles, of our ancestors. Their hatreds, prej udices and ideals are not ours; we have long since outgrown them. Their quarrels are not our quarrels, neither are their struggles our struggles. Life is a processional, not a reces sional. We should look forward, not back ward, even as we think forward and work for ward and not backward. Our look should always be ahead with our face towards the fu ture. The world is in the period of its youth ; and it is not characteristic of a vigorous and growing youth to fall into reminiscence and grow pensive. The reminiscent stage of life comes last and is characteristic of old age. Let us, then, give our attention to the pres ent and the future, which peremptorily de mand our attention. Science, art, business RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 21 and politics — these are the sufficient and all- engrossing employments of the men of our age. Let us, then, relegate history to the lumber room of the past, where it belongs. Let the dead past bury its dead, while we " rise on stepping stones of our dead selves to higher things." " Not backward are our glances bent, But onward to our Father's house." All that sounds well and seems to be in keeping with the modern spirit -of evolution and progress ; but a little closer look will con vince us, I think, that there is a grave error underlying any such position, which renders it utterly untenable, and it is this, namely, that evolution and progress are possible only on the condition that there has been a past, and that the best of that past is possessed and pre served by us. Of course, such possession and preservation are possible only on the basis of knowledge. Every science proceeds upon the basis of its own history, and has for its study a careful and minute investigation of the course it has taken, no less than a close observ ance of the field in which it is now working. Leave out the past of astronomy, chemistry, biology or any other modern science and you leave out a large part of its most important 2 2 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. knowledge and results. It is only as a knowl edge of the past of any art is preserved to us that its present prosecution is possible; and he who would use an art to its best effects must possess a comprehensive and detailed knowledge of its past. The same is true of the manner and method of all life. History, like Scripture, is writ ten for our learning, that we, through the pa tience and achievements of the past, may have diligence in the present and hope of the fu ture. It is a great thing to have a past, to be the heir of a noble race; to know that there runs in your veins the blood of heroes, of mar tyrs, of patriots, and of saints; to feel the throb of noble hearts through a long line of unselfish and benevolent ancestry. If one have any manhood or nobility in him, it will surely be quickened into newness of life and thrilled by an irresistible impulse to high re solves and noble deeds, when he knows that he is the offspring of those who laid down their lives for God and truth and the freedom of their conscience. That is the inheritance which is " undefiled and that fadeth not away." And we of this age and land, who hold the Christian faith in simplicity with a pure heart and an untrammelled conscience, are the off- RELIGIOUS VALUE OF STUDY OF HISTORY. 23 spring of those who, in times past, passed through fire and flood, through imprison ments and persecutions ; lost houses and lands, forsook their homes and friends, the loved scenes of their childhood, the beloved fellow ships of mature life, and either laid down their lives for conscience' sake, or became vol untary exiles in strange lands or faced the dangers of primeval forests, inhabited by wild beasts and savage men. The struggle for re ligious liberty comprises the most heroic, the most brilliant, the most inspiring chapters of human history, from the days of the earliest martyr, Socrates. And those who bear the name of Protestant in this age are the legiti mate heirs of these men. Their noble lives, their heroic deeds, their immortal achieve ments, are ours. They are our spiritual an cestors. Their faith, their courage, their dauntless perseverance, are our ensample in all high-hearted and noble living. How can the descendants of such men be pusillanimous, craven or sordid? How can they grovel and wallow in the mire that seems to be the na tive element of those only whose ancestors stoned the prophets and burned the martyrs? How can we who know at what price our liberties were bought for us ever betray such a trust as that ? Let him who can answer, for I cannot. 24 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. In the brief course of lectures that are to follow on Sunday evenings I purpose to treat of those pages of such memorials as are cov ered by the title, "The Struggle for Re ligious Liberty " in England, Germany, Italy and the Netherlands, confining our attention mainly to the period of the fifteenth and six teenth centuries. It will embrace the times of the Reformation as they are illustrated for us by the names of Wyclif, Savonarola, Lu ther and William of Orange. These men are for us in this connection that " Choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence; live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars And with their mild persistence urge man's search to vaster issues." LECTURE I. GENERAL CONDITION OF EUROPE ON THE EVE OF THE REFORMATION. Let me suggest at the outset that the struggle for religious liberty and what is known as the Reformation are not in all re spects identical movements. The Reforma tion was a great tidal wave which swept over Europe in the sixteenth century, out of the vast and troubled sea of the centuries whose waters had always been greatly agitated by the struggle for religious liberty. It was the culmination of that struggle. It asserted the fundamental principles upon which that struggle had proceeded, and succeeded in lay ing broad and secure foundations upon which true religious liberty could be built; but it left some of the higher standards and finer ideals unattained. In that respect there is much yet to be desired. In view of the fact that the Reformation split Europe into two great warring religious camps, it is necessary to remind ourselves that up to that time there had been but one 2 6 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Christian Church in Western Europe. And the struggle for religious liberty had gone on within that church and not outside of it, nor against it, after the first three centuries. Whatever glory and whatever shame at tached to that church during the first fifteen centuries is shared equally by us all, Protes tants and Roman Catholics alike. The Ref ormation itself originated within the Roman Catholic Church and was led by men bred in her schools and cloisters. We should also remember that the Roman Catholic Church of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries is not the Roman Catholic Church of the twentieth century and in the United States. From a very early age religious differences have engendered strife and stirred the most violent passions of men. Although the Jews tasted the bitterness of persecution, that did jnot prevent them from pressing the same cup to the lips of the early Christians, and, with the aid of the Romans, making them drink it to its dregs. Then were written the first pages in the most sanguinary and thrilling story — a story of unutterable suffering and grim endurance for conscience' sake — which history's pages record. It can scarcely be called a struggle. It was as impossible for the obscure and de- EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 27 fenceless sufferers to resist their enemies as for a fly to resist the hand that crushes it. Judged from appearances, it was a remorse less massacre, which crushed its victims into the earth. But the real forces that were working out the problem were not on the surface. The odds against which the early Christians were matched drove them to seek refuge in the mountain fastnesses and in the subterranean caverns known as catacombs. Here they cherished their faith and worship until the violence of their enemies abated. After two centuries they came forth from their hiding places, disciplined by hardship, trained to prudence and foresight by the peril in which they had lived, and with a compact and efficient organization. Their leaders had improved their long seclusion to cultivate let ters and arts and soon took leading places among scholars and men of affairs; so that when Constantine succeeded to the undivided possession of supreme power in the Roman Empire, prudence, if not preference, moved him to an alliance with them. Then began a new phase in the struggle for religious liberty. The despised and per secuted Christians, now risen to places of power and possessing the throne in the per son of the Emperor, did not abuse their trust. 28 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Such was the spirit of sweet reasonableness which animated them that the first Christian emperor issued an edict of religious tolera tion, known as the Edict of Milan, which granted religious liberty within the empire on the basis of the sacred rights of con science; only those religious rites were pro hibited which involved immorality, magic or sorcery. Not until the fatal passion for power had been aroused in them by its pos session did the Christians resort to persecu tion. The organization of the Christian Church kept pace with its spread in Europe. From Rome as a center the missionaries penetrated to all parts of Europe. They car ried with them the love of the mother church from which they went and bound the churches which they planted to her in gratitude and Christian fellowship. The confidence and af fection which she won by her generosity and self-sacrifice in the Gospel, she soon came to demand as her right, and when at length the Bishop of Rome secured the political power of his city, he aspired to make the traditional capital of the world its ecclesiastical capital also; then, with the policy of military Rome, the Christian Church adopted also the ambi tions and relentless spirit of the Caesars. Ecclesiastical Rome usurped the rights of EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 29 mankind and perverted their liberties as ruth lessly as did political Rome. Through successive stages the Church mounted to the throne of its power until it was more absolute than the empire had ever essayed to be. Men like Gregory the Great, Leo III and Hildebrand made the most as tonishing claims to absolute supremacy in human affairs, and treated with the utmost severity all who withstood their claims. Un availing protests against their astounding pre tensions were raised by men like John Scotus, Abelard, Arnold of Brescia and Wyclif; and in the humbler walks of life opposition showed itself in such sects as the Albigenses and the Waldenses, neither of which desired to separate itself from the Catholic Church. Both of them desired that its pretension should be moderated and its abuses re formed according to the Scriptural require ments of apostolic simplicity and purity. These men were simple-minded and their lives were pure, but they were subjected to the most remorseless persecution. Their heroic endurance and unfaltering faith have covered their memory with a halo of glory like unto that which surrounds the early Christian martyrs. During the massacre of the Albigenses was born the order of the 30 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Dominicans, into whose hands was intrusted the institution known as the Inquisition, the most diabolical engine of intolerance and per secution that human ingenuity ever devised. It is the fate of all despotisms to work their own destruction by a fatal disregard of the limits of human endurance, and when the papacy added the horrors of the Inquisition to the usurpation of the most sacred of hu man rights, and aggravated her offenses by the flagrant immorality of the clergy, she transcended her limits and invoked the long slumbering and now accumulated wrath of centuries, which burst forth in the Reforma tion, disrupted her solid empire and caused her the loss of two-thirds of her spiritual children. Two great movements in the Middle Ages contributed to hasten the triumph of relig ious liberty in Europe. They were the Cru sades and the Renaissance. The religious enthusiasm of Europe, dormant for centuries, was kindled by the fiery eloquence of Peter the Hermit as he preached a crusade against the " infidel Turks " for the purpose of rescu ing the Holy Sepulcher from their hands. It was as when a door is suddenly opened into a house where a fire has long been smolder ing, smothered in its own smoke, the whole EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 3 1 building is wrapped in a sudden conflagra tion; or, as when a volcano long extinct bursts into sudden activity. A spontaneous uprising, as of one man, unparalleled in his tory, took place among all classes of people. Kings and peasants, priests and lawyers, merchants and bankers, were swept by the same mighty impulse and fired by the same zeal, which for the time burned alike in every breast and submerged calculations and self- interest. All alike were moved to venture life and fortune in the holy cause. During the space of two hundred years, seven upheavals of the populations took place known as the Crusades, five of them prodig ious and two of them only relatively lesser, all of them mighty. Before the frenzy kin dled by Peter the Hermit died out immense treasure was squandered, multitudes of lives were sacrificed and apparently nothing ac complished; total and disastrous failure seemed to attend it all. But here again we are mistaken if we judge by appearances. For although the Crusaders whitened the plains of Asia Minor with their bones and dyed the grass of Northern Africa with their blood without achieving any per manent results in either Asia or Africa, their exodus from Europe and their return to 32 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. their former homes were attended by conse quences in Europe far greater than would have been the conquest of all the East and the rescue of the relics of all the saints. In the first place, they had broken the power of the Saracens by successive impacts upon them, by prolonged conflict with them. They had fought fire with fire. Religious fanaticism was matched against religious fanaticism, and it inflicted such punishment upon the rapacious and cruel Mussulman that he has never been able to rally from it. Al though he reached the shores of Europe later on, he was exhausted with the struggle and has continued in a state of languishing im- potency ever since. In the second place, the Crusades had a marked and lasting effect upon the Crusad ers themselves, and in spite of their suffer ing' and losses the gain was greater than the loss, for it brought them into direct and immediate contact with the East, at that time the cultivated and refined portion of the world. Constantinople and Antioch, the two great storehouses of ancient art and learning, and the centers of the wealth and culture of the East, had become familiar to them. Antioch was for a time in their hands. The splendid buildings, fine fabrics, EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 33 beautiful statues, costly gems, were a revela tion to the Crusaders, and served as ob ject lessons; while the elegant refinements, splendid courtesy, magnificent manners and ancient learning of the East were not without their effect upon the coarse, rude and un tamed barbarians of the West. Those who survived the conflict returned with new ideas of the character of the world in which they lived, of the meaning of civilization, of the possibilities of humanity, and of the defects of Europe. They had been to school and had traveled. Their view of life had been broadened and their minds enriched by con tact with superior conditions of life and a great mental and moral revolution had been wrought in them. But the Crusades had also an immediate and lasting effect upon Europe itself. For by enlisting in the Crusades the serf bought his freedom from the soil. The debtor was freed from his creditor. He that went out a slave came back a free man, with gold coin in his pocket and some new ideas of the world in his head. Serfdom and slavery were prac tically abolished in Europe. The cities also had been able, by immense sums of money paid to the hereditary princes, who held lordship over them, to buy their freedom 34 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. and secure charters for themselves which made them independent of the control of petty rulers; and by the long absence of the nobles in the East, the middle classes had learned to administer their own affairs, and so the backbone of the feudal system was broken and the period of freedom and en lightenment came in. Modern industrialism was inaugurated. New ideas sprang up and a redistribution of wealth and privileges took place, together with a new sense of their own place in the world and new wants and ambi tions in the common people. The immediate results to Europe of the Crusades were in calculable. A new spirit of humanity and of enterprise, of hope and of ambition, had sprung up, and the death warrant was signed of the ancient regime of ignorance, supersti tion and terror which had reigned for a thousand years. The second great movement that hastened the final conflict for religious liberty was the Renaissance, or revival of learning, in Europe, which followed upon the taking of Constan tinople by the Turks in 1453. That was a momentous event for Western Europe. It sent hundreds of Greek scholars and literati to find refuge in the West. The learning and the manuscripts which they brought with EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 3 J them created a great stir. Schools, academies and universities sprang up everywhere, and the Church ceased to be the sole custodian of knowledge. It was as a part of that move ment that the University of Wittenberg was established by the Elector of Saxony, to which one Martin Luther came in 1508 as preacher and professor of theology. We shall hear more about that later on. A spirit of inquiry was awakened, investigations were instituted and historical and scientific studies were taken up in real earnest. The cold and lifeless formalism that had characterized the logic of the Schoolmen disappeared. The study of the Greek and Roman classics be came a passion. Princes and potentates vied with one another in securing eminent scholars and elegant literati to adorn their courts ; and the rich and the great became the profuse patrons of learning and spared no pains and no expense in collecting manuscripts and creating libraries and schools of learning. The minds of men already liberated from their ancient thraldom by the Crusades were quickened and enlightened by the new learn ing, which soon spread among all classes of the people. In addition to these great movements, and perhaps as a consequence of them, was the 36 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. spirit of adventure which now broke out simultaneously in Italy and Spain, France and England, Germany and Holland. Inspired by Columbus, a native of Genoa, Italy, hun dreds of adventurers braved the perils of the untraversed seas in search of new lands or new passages to the East. New continents were discovered and the globe was circum navigated. Invention also was quickened, printing by movable types and the manufac ture of paper from rags had but recently been invented. The mariner's compass came into general use in navigation. The telescope was invented and the heavens explored for new worlds, as the seas for new lands. The whole period was one of unprecedented mental ac tivity and ferment. Copernicus, by his new system of astronomy, and Kepler, by his laws, were soon revolutionizing astronomy. All of these things had their effects upon the minds of men. The discovery of the size and shape of the earth, and its relation to other bodies in space as well as of the im mense distances in the heavens and the vast systems of worlds in space; the changes of men's ideas as to the center of the universe and the revelation that it was not the earth, but that the earth was only an insignificant member of a system whose center was the EUROPE ON EVE OF THE REFORMATION. 37 sun — all served to teach men the uncer tainty and instability of things they had been accustomed to regard as established beyond the peradventure of doubt, and led them to expect and prepared them to receive changes in other spheres of thought and realms of life. A spirit of skepticism became general and invaded even the Church, and everything seemed to converge upon and con spire toward a single point, until nothing could withstand the conjunction of forces which worked to free the human mind from bondage and the human spirit from thral dom. How this struggle culminated in the Refor mation and worked itself free at last we shall see in succeeding lectures. Suffice it to say, in closing, that the greatest blessings we now possess, the sanctity of our homes, our per sonal security "and freedom, and the right to make the most of ourselves, have been se cured to us as the result of that world-long struggle for religious liberty. The freedom of the press, the right of every man to wor ship God in his own way, the democratic principles of government, the right of a man as such, regardless of his place or position in the social scale, or of his worldly possessions, and the demand for absolute justice for all 38 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. men, equality irrespective of race, sex or con dition of life — these and many of the great principles now taking front rank among the objects devotedly to be sought in the twenti eth century have been made possible to us by the Reformation. Beginning with the struggle for religious liberty, that struggle ran on to compass the liberty of the whole man, and was destined not to stop until he was every whit free. It has already secured for us the liberty of con science, the right of private judgment, polit ical and personal freedom. But the end is not yet, and what it shall be no man knoweth. But as great and good men as ever fought in any cause fight still in these ranks, which are constantly increasing in numbers, in resolute ness, and in power. LECTURE II. THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN ENG LAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. The English Reformation divides itself nat urally into three parts : (i) From the days of Wyclif to those of Henry VIII., a period of about 150 years, or, in round numbers, from 1360 to 1530. That was a time of preparation. (2) Then came a period of 120 years, or from 1530 to 1650; or from the act of the Royal Supremacy in England to the death of Charles I., when the fight of the Reformation was actually joined and its various parties were locked in the death grapple for the mas tery; and (3) The period from 1650 to 1688, when William of Orange landed and took posses sion of the crown, the final settlement upon an unassailable foundation of the actual work of the Reformation. The results were: (1) the separation of England from the Papal See and its independ ence of all foreign power; (2) the establish- 40 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ment of the right of every man to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience, without fear of molestation from civil or ecclesiastical authority ; (3) the secur ing of freedom for the individual conscience from all priestly intermeddling of any sort whatsoever; (4) the purging of the national church from superstitious practices, idola trous worship and pagan doctrines; (5) the introduction of the use of the Scriptures as the basis of faith and practice and as the final court of appeal in all matters of doctrine; (6) the translation of the Scriptures into the ver nacular, and their distribution among the people, to be read without note or comment or any form of priestly prohibition. The actual events of the English Reforma tion lie within a period of about three hun dred years, between the dates 1360 and 1660, to put it in round numbers. To England be longs the credit for the origin of the Refor mation movement, and there its best results were secured. But the struggle was more prolonged in England and was less violent and dramatic than on the Continent. The heroic figure of Luther and the swift, violent, decisive character of the movement which he led have given to that phase of the Reforma tion a prominence and a fascination possessed ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 4 1 by no other, so that we usually speak of the whole movement as the German Reforma tion; but it was from England that Luther received his first impulse to his work. The writings of Wyclif had reached him by way of Bohemia through John Huss, the Bohe mian martyr ; and Luther never went quite so far in his work as Wyclif did in his. The Struggle for Religious Liberty in Eng land is the subject of our reflections this even ing. Great events move slowly and cast their shadows long before them. Wise and far-see ing minds are able to discern their coming from afar and to herald their approach. Great and noble spirits contribute to hasten their coming and often precipitate the events themselves. In England, in the fourteenth century, the ecclesiastical heavens were over cast with dark and ominous portents. The lightnings were playing along the horizon, and the deep-toned thunders were rolling which threatened a storm, distant as yet, but approaching and increasing in anger and violence as it moved. We hear its first deep muttering in the early English literature. William Langland, in his vision, " Piers the Ploughman," inveighs against the worldliness, the hypocrisy and the immoralities of the 42 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. monks, declares popes' pardons to be of small value, and exhorts men to lead righteous and pure lives. Chaucer, in his " Canterbury Tales," pilloried the mendicant orders in the " Pardoner," who comes from Rome laden with relics and wallet, " Brim full of pardons come from Rome all hot," and who confesses that he preaches against " avarice and such cursedness," not in order that he may correct sin, but in order that men may give their pence unto him, for his object is to win. He heaps his scorn on the higher clergy, and in contrast draws a picture of a simple, faithful parish priest, rich in holy thought and work. Eminent scholars and investigators de parted from the ancient and traditional logic of the Schoolmen and started out in ways of their own to pursue knowledge and acquire learning. But William of Occam went farther. He not only declared theories of knowledge at variance with the traditions of the Schoolmen which had been adopted by the Church, but he attacked the claim of papal infallibility and the absurd pretensions of the pope to absolute power and universal rule. ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 43 By far the greatest actor, however, in this drama, and the man destined to take the leading part, was John Wyclif, Professor of Theology at Oxford and rector of Sutter- worth. He was the greatest scholar of his time and the man of greatest weight in his day. It happened in the Reformation, as so often happens in the great movements in hu man affairs, that the men of studious habits and thoughtful lives were called upon to give impulse and direction to the men of action who fought the battles of progress and marched at the head of the advancing col umns. Wyclif, Huss, Savonarola, Luther, Calvin, Erasmus and Melancthon were all men of let ters who preferred the scholarly seclusion of their studies to the active warfare of reform. The same is true of Cranmer and of John Milton. But the conditions of the times were such as demanded of these recluses the sacri fice of their preferences and an active partici pation in the affairs of life. What, then, was the condition at this epoch of religious affairs in England? At the open ing of the fourteenth century Christianity was practically a lost treasure, and the Christian life a lost art. The teachings of Christ had been so overlaid by foreign accretions, pagan 44 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. philosophies and superstitions, the Christian worship by pagan rites and ceremonies, and the example of Christ by the legendary lives of the saints, that the germs of the original truth were scarcely discernible in the midst of the rank growths of fiction and falsehood that choked and blighted it. Instead of fir tree, had come up the thorn; instead of myrtle, had come up the brier; and instead of the rose, had come up the thistle. At that time about one-half of the wealth of the kingdom was in the hands of the Church and about two-thirds of its annual product of wealth, and the Pope derived from revenues out of England an annual income greater than that of the English Crown and much greater than that of the wealthiest Prince in Europe. The monastic orders had at first sprung up in protest against the sor didness and sensuality of the times, and the monasteries had, for a time, served as the cities of refuge for sensitive and aspiring souls who desired to escape from the con taminations of an evil world, and to give themselves up to a life of devotion and self- sacrificing service. But the religious orders and the monas teries after a time outlived their original pur pose and departed from it. They were in- ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 45 vaded by the spirit of the surrounding world. In earlier times, by their lives of toil, self- sacrifice, devotion and service, the monks had greatly endeared themselves to the people. Their pure lives, austere habits, exemplary in dustry and frugality had won the confidence of all classes of society. The rich remem bered them in their wills generously. Princes richly endowed their houses, and the poor gladly shared with them their frugal fare. For nearly two hundred years the monastic orders were the sole teachers of the people in religion, in agriculture, in science, in litera ture, and in the arts. The monks were the scholars, the preachers, the authors, the meta physicians, the theologians, the philosophers, the painters, the musicians and the statesmen of Christendom. Whatever works there were, were on the shelves of monastic libraries ; and whatever learning there was, was sheltered within monastic cloisters. The monasteries were the arks which sheltered and carried the learning and the piety of Europe for almost a thousand years, and preserved them from being swept away by the flood of barbarism and illiteracy which prevailed in the Dark Ages. By this great service they won the con fidence, the loyal support and the deepest af- 46 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. fections of the people, but at length they came to trade upon this affection and betray it. The monks became idle, illiterate, sordid and self- indulgent. Dust gathered upon the books in their libraries, moth and mildew destroyed them. Priceless manuscripts were used for kindling fires — their value and their use alike having been forgotten — or they were used as palimsests, and written over again with the fictions and legends of the Saints. The preaching of the Friars, which at the start had been salutary and stimulating, and was wel comed throughout England with a burst of popular enthusiasm, their work among the poor and the sick, their rescue work in the slums of the towns and cities, and their eco nomic labors in draining marshes and re claiming waste lands to tillage, and in im proving the methods of agriculture, had all greatly endeared them to the people. Then came the period of prosperity for them, and with it riches and degeneracy. Marble halls supplanted their mud and wood huts; sump tuous fare their plain living; luxury and self-indulgence their simple lives of activity and devotion. It is said that in the year 1300 not only had two-thirds of the entire revenue- producing wealth of the whole kingdom passed into the hands of the monastic orders, ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 47 but that, incredible as it now seems, a sum five times greater than the income of the crown went every year to the coffers of the Vatican. At the same time, the richest benefices and Bishoprics in England were held by Italians, and all ecclesiastics alike claimed immunity from the ordinary taxes of the realm. The usual method of procedure was somewhat as follows: A Black Friar or a Grey Friar arrived in town with his universal license to preach, for the monks were the peripa tetic evangelists of those days. He rang the bell of the Parish church, and all who heard it assembled in the church or the church-yard to hear him preach. He then received the contribution of each in his open hand, and afterwards confessed those who so desired. The rite of confession carried with it a fee, and by means of the confessional he became possessed of the secrets of the people. For those who had committed any grave sins or heinous crimes preferred to confess to a travelling Friar rather than to the parish priest. He passed on and carried their secret with him; and to them it was as though it was not known. They escaped exposure and punishment, and thus a scandal arose in the land over the escape of great criminals and 48 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. the vast increase of crime throughout the realm. But, although the Friar passed on, and carried, the secret with him, that secret was not forgotten. It was cherished by him and his associates in order for future use. And when the time arrived that the secret was of use and value to the order, it was used against the criminal. In that way the secrets of all the great families of Europe came into the possession of the monks, and gave them un limited power. Under threat of exposure, they were able to extort moneys, lands, privi leges or any other boon they chose to de mand from nobles and princes, and to press into service the rich and the great. And so they swarmed like the plagues of Egypt, tres passing upon the most sacred precincts of private life, violating the most treasured sanctities of domestic privacy, infesting the nuptial chamber and the kneading troughs alike with their pestiferous meddling. Their preaching had degenerated into a mere ex hibition of coarse jests and ribald buffoonery, so that they were the travelling clowns and actors of their day, in lieu of the circus and the players, and it all too often happened that their jest and buffoonery was scandalous and demoralizing; so that they fostered crime and encouraged vice. ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 49 It was at this juncture, when the church had sunk to the lowest depths of moral degener acy and spiritual decay, that the voice of Wyc lif was heard. It was at once the voice of a scholar, a philosopher, a saint and a states man. Wyclif came as near being an inde pendent reformer as it is possible to conceive of any man being. He seems not to have had any precursor. It is true that " Piers the Ploughman," William Langland, Duns Sco- tus, Roger Bacon and William of Occam all preceded him. It is true that he owed much to these men for their earnest and uncompro mising protests against abuses — especially to Occam for his strenuous efforts at church re form. But in his own way, Wyclif was com pelled to blaze for himself a path through the dense forests of mediaeval superstition and tyranny, and let in the light of truth upon soil from which it had been excluded for cen turies. That was hard and hazardous work; but he performed his herculean labors with superhuman wisdom and power. No one could have predicted in the year 1350 that the spare, emaciated Oxford scholar, the greatest scholar of his time, prematurely aged at forty by his great labors, and very weak of body, would by his immense wisdom, his immovable conviction, unshaken integrity, his tireless en- SO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ergy, his dauntless intrepidity, his keen in sight and irreproachable purity shake the ex isting institutions of society and systems of government and practices of religion to their foundations, and start such a rent within them as would prove irreparable and, slowly widen ing, bring them all in ruins to the ground at last. Yet that is just what he did. The event that first called Wyclif from his lecture room at Oxford, where he had long been an object of great interest to the scholars of Europe, and whither students from all over Europe had flocked in great numbers to hear him lecture, occurred in 1365. A par liament was called in that year by Edward III., one of the greatest of English monarchs, to consider the bull of Urban V., in which he demanded of Edward the payment of a tribute said to have been incurred by the contempti ble King John when he bought the favor of the papacy as against his barons, and when by his abject and grovelling submission to the Pontiff, he had shocked and shamed all England. England had never submitted tamely to the demands of the papacy; and this tribute had been permitted to lapse, so that it was greatly in arrears. The Statute of Praemunire, passed by Parliament in 1353, had prohibited the introduction or execution ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 51 of papal bulls within the realm; and the stat utes of Provisors made it unlawful for the papal authorities to dispose of English bene fices. When the Parliament assembled it soon ap peared that the representative of the Univer sity of Oxford, John Wyclif by name, the pale- faced and emaciated scholar, was the most clear-headed, far-sighted man among them. His wisdom and his prudence caused the reply to the papal bull to be committed into his hands. His reply is a noble document for its wisdom and courage. He begins with a state ment of grievances, sharply arraigns the pope for his rapacities and robberies in England, and goes on to consider the abuses of the Church in England. That must have been startling and stimulating reading in the Vati can in that day of its most absolute power and insolent effrontery. It was a brave and dar ing thing for a man in those days to defy the pope, even if he were a king and had his country behind him. But Wyclif did not stop with speaking anonymously under cover of Parliament. His soul was kindled and his mind fired by the con flict into which he now found himself plunged, and he girded himself to the work — and a strong work it was. He now went beyond 52 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. any of his predecessors in his attacks upon the papal claims and abuses, and laid his sharp axe at the root of the matter. He saw clearly the relation between the hierarchal abuses and the sacerdotal doctrines of the Church, and set himself to correct the latter in order to abolish the former. When he saw that no reforms were to be expected from the au thorities, he went about that work himself strenuously. He appealed to the English people in their vernacular. He issued pam phlet after pamphlet in a language that every body could understand; and he gathered about him, first at Oxford, and afterwards at Sutterworth, bands of young men whom he trained, and he taught them the Scriptures, and how to preach, indoctrinated them with his own principles and sent them forth among the people. They went everywhere, like Wes ley's field preachers and the Salvation Army street preachers. In spite of the bitter perse cution to which they were subjected, they con tinued to flourish until at one time it was said that every other man in England was a Lol lard. He struck at sacerdotal doctrine as the root of ecclesiastical evils. He denied the doc trines of transubstantiation, of purgatory, of supererogation, of the invocation of the ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 53 saints, of confirmation and extreme unction; and of auricular confession. He denounced pilgrimages, indulgences, the use of images in worship, and other traditional practices. He made his appeal to the Bible as the ulti mate authority in all questions of Christian faith and practice, and asserted the sacred rights of conscience, free from all priestly co ercion or control in personal concerns. The character of the man appears in the calm, firm words with which he closes his reply to John of Gaunt, when he commanded him to be silent — " I believe that in the end the truth will prevail." Wyclif undertook the translation of the Bi ble into the vernacular, and gathered about him a body of earnest-minded, pure-souled, heroic-spirited men like himself, whom he in spired with his own enthusiasm and taught his own great doctrines. The work of these men went on long after he was dead. They spread everywhere the knowledge of the Scriptures, and put the books of the Bible into the people's hands, and taught them to read. A people known as " The Lord's " arose, who were the result of that work — a God-fearing, Bible-reading, truth-loving peo ple, who obeyed God and feared not man; and kept the altar fires of love to Him aflame 54 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. with their faith, even as with their bodies they fed the flames which illumined Smith- field, and made the place holy ground for liberty-loving Englishmen. The work of Wyclif discloses a man of im mense and varied intellectual powers. He is the founder of our modern English tongue, the inaugurator of our modern English liter ature. He was a master of simple, sinewy, comprehensive prose, and first used the ver nacular as a vehicle of conveying profound philosophic and religious truth to the people. At Sutterworth he prepared a new edition of the English Bible for the common people, which gave tone and character to English speech by its simple dignity and stately form. He was a bold and unsparing opponent of falsehood and corruption, an indefatigable reformer, and a skillful organizer of a new religious movement. In him there was a blending of many diverse qualities. He was like Luther in his boldness, fearlessness and force of character; in the sharpness of his irony and the power of his invective. He was like Melancthon in the thoroughness and ripe ness of his scholarship. In personal charm, amiability of temper and finish of literary quality he resembled Erasmus; and was like Calvin in his dialectic skill, metaphysical acu- ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 55 men, restless energy, patient persistence, in flexible fortitude and the unsullied spirit of his life. The effect of Wyclif's work appeared later on, when Henry VIII. came to his dispute with the papacy. Henry found the nation learned with Wyclif's doctrines and enlight ened by the reading of the Scriptures. What ever Henry's motives may have been in his break with Rome, there could be no doubt as to those which animated such men as Cranmer, Latimer and Ridley and their associates, and swayed the people. The universities were in a ferment with the new learning. Men like Erasmus and Colet had aroused the spirit of inquiry and fired the minds of students with an eager desire for learning; had opened the sources of information by translations of an cient documents and were guiding groping minds by their lectures and commentaries. Sir Thomas Moore wrote " Utopia," and gave England a most impressive lesson in the evils of her own time by furnishing her a standard of comparison in the imaginary state where justice, liberty and right prevailed. Hugh Latimer also was " laying his whole body into the bow," as he says his father taught him to do in archery, and, with an irresistible force, sending his swift-winged, fire-tipped, sun- 56 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. aimed arrows straight against the evils of the time from many pulpits. The children on the street cried after him, " Have at them, Mas ter Latimer, have at them ! " Wyclif's work had told at last. A majority of the people stood ready to support the King in a break with Rome. They might or might not approve of his motives and object; but they did approve of the fact itself. It is doubt ful whether any such move could have been sustained earlier, or whether it could have been deferred much longer. Certain it is that the initial movement to it did not originate with the King or with his minister. Woolsey was driven from power, and Moore lost his head rather than sanction it. It was Cranmer who suggested that the King appeal from the Pope to the universities the question of his divorce from Catherine of Aragon. And it was Cranmer who, on taking the office of Archbishop of Canterbury, set the example of revolt to the English clergy by declining tp take the oath of allegiance to Rome and took the oath of the Royal Supremacy in stead. He was the first Protestant Arch bishop of Canterbury. For there had now come a time of transi tion in England. The Romanist power was still strong, but waning; the Protestant in- ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 57 fluence was also strong, but not supreme, and the King was able to hold the balance of power and play off the one party against the other, as suited his interests or caprices. And that he did with such skill as to make him self absolute in all matters, both temporal and spiritual. He permitted the abuses of the Church to be corrected, but always to his own profit. Corrupt ecclesiastics were deposed and powerful ecclesiastic institutions sup pressed, such as their courts of law and mon asteries. These latter being immensely wealthy, had all their possessions confiscated to the crown, and so greatly enriched both the King and his favorites. In I533 Cranmer became Archbishop of Canterbury, and in him Henry had a subtle and powerful ally, and the people a wise and judicious leader. He was a Protestant and a diplomat. He soon reached a stage in doc trine equal to that at which he had arrived in polity, and set himself diligently not only to translate the Bible but to compile also the English Prayer Book. This he did with the cooperation and assistance of Hugh Latimer and Master Ridley. At his suggestion and by his request, the objectionable features of the Roman Catholic doctrine and worship were discontinued in England. The refusal 58 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. of the Pope to confirm the decision of the universities in favor of the King's divorce led Henry to secure from Parliament the statute which severed the English Church from Rome by vesting its headship in the crown. That was the change in the English Church which Henry wanted, and it was the only change which either he or Elizabeth ever willingly endorsed. During the brief reign of Edward VI., Cranmer was by far the most influential man in the kingdom, and his Protestant views be came established, both at court and among the people, so that when Mary came to the throne and undertook to extirpate Protestant ism in England with fire and sword, and sent Cranmer and his associates to the stake, she found that it would be necessary to depopu late the land and exterminate the nation in order to accomplish her designs. Elizabeth came to the throne in 1558, and held a middle course throughout her reign. Her bias, as it appears in several overtures to the Papal See, and in her wily vacillation be tween Protestant and Roman Catholic sym pathies, was undoubtedly towards Romanism ; but her personal interests kept her from openly deserting the Protestant cause. Throughout her long and eventful reign she ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 59 held a highly conservative and judicial course, which enabled the Protestant sympathies and tendencies of her subjects to take form and develop, and secured to the succeeding cen tury the indestructible permanency of Pro testantism in England and the leadership of England in the Protestantism of the world. The later agitations and conflicts in Eng land for a century and a half after Henry and Cranmer arose over those points not secured by the Reformation under Henry. The royal headship of the church — the connection be tween State and Church — was an offence to many. The demand arose for the substitu tion of the communion table for the altar. The use of any vestments whatever was strongly opposed; and later on the prayer- book was included in the protest, and finally Episcopacy itself was attacked. In the time of Elizabeth two parties arose to push the matter of church reform — the Puritans and the Separatists. The Puritans were Church of England men; did not desire to separate from it; but agitated for its re form. They were called Puritans because they wanted the church purified of its remain ing abuses. They wanted a godly ministry, the observance of the Sabbath day as a holy day, not as a holiday, and a simpler form of 60 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. worship, such as was used by their Protestant brethren on the Continent. The opposition which these demands met drove some of the Puritans to a separation from the church and the creation of a new party known as the Separatists. They, like Wyclif, saw no hope of having their demands met, and so they set about the work of reform themselves, with drew from the established church, and formed independent congregations of their own on the principles which they despaired of seeing enforced in the Establishment. These were the ecclesiastical ancestors of the Congrega- tionalists in England and America. Them Elizabeth hated and persecuted with all her heart. She was never more than half a Prot estant, and, as we know from her negotiations with Rome, was only prevented from becom ing a Romanist openly by the refusal of the Papacy to recognize her title to the throne. In her own chapel she went as far as she could in observing the Romish ritual, and as far as she dared she showed her disapproval of all reforming tendencies in the church at large. But Elizabeth, like all the Tudors, was a diplomat, and used moderation and judgment in her dealings, so that the fruit of the Refor mation born in Henry's time ripened and mel lowed during her long and magnificent reign, ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 6 1 and was prepared for gathering in the follow ing century. One of the greatest misfortunes that ever befell a nation came upon England in the accession of the house of Stuart to the throne in the person of James I. He was a man of considerable intellectual abil ity and attainments, but of a mean and contemptible spirit. Brought up in Scot land, under the Presbyterian form of church life, he had conceived a deep and unalterable hatred for its strict discipline and high moral requirements. The Scottish clergy did not hesitate to rebuke their King for his drunkenness and denounce him for his licen tiousness. But he found the English clergy hat in hand, obsequious and fawning. And along with his idea of the Divine right of Kings, he soon originated also the Divine right of Bishops. His well-known phrase was, " No Bishop, no King." In consequence of such declarations, a bishop declared James in spired of the Holy Ghost ; and the doctrine of absolute and unqualified submission to the royal will began to be preached in the churches. All forms of dissent began to be hunted down with unsparing severity. Inde pendent and thoughtful men foreboded disas ter, and those who could began to quit Eng- 62 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. land. It was at that time that the Pilgrim Fathers went to Holland and afterwards came to America, and that the first Parliament called by James felt called upon to remon strate with him, which they did, as follows: " Your Majesty would be misinformed if any man should deliver that the kings of England have any absolute power in themselves either to alter religion or to make any laws concern ing the same otherwise than as in temporal causes by consent of Parliament ; " and again : " Let your Majesty be pleased to receive pub lic information from your Commons in Par liament as well of the abuses in the church as in the civil state and government." One would think that such a communication would serve as a gentle reminder to the King of the state of mind, the disposition and the temper of the people among whom he had come. But there is a cast of mind which seems to be utterly oblivious to the effect of its own actions upon others. There are men who speak and act in such total disregard for other men's thoughts and feelings as to suggest an entire and total absence from them of anything like sympathy with or understanding of human nature. They are so absorbed in the workings of their own minds ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 63 that it never occurs to them to observe how the minds of other men work — self-centered men who are not only a law unto themselves, but who seek to make themselves a law unto others. Infatuated with their own personal ity, they assume the role of omniscience and infallibility. Such men, if they are placed in any position of authority and command, are tyrants; and if they, by any chance, come to the supreme power in a nation, they are despots. The Stuarts were men of that sort. In James I. and Charles II. the iron hand was gloved with the velvet of amiability and a ready, nimble, genial wit; but in Charles I. and James II. it lurked beneath a flimsy tissue of cold reserve, sphynx-like stupidity and clumsy falsehood, which was constantly re vealing the designs it was meant to hide, as the stupidity of deception is always bound to do. The state and church policy of James I. brought Charles I. into open conflict with the nation as represented in Parliament. With such ministers as Buckingham and Went- worth, and with Laud as Archbishop of Can terbury, who not only seconded him in his effort at absolutism, but went beyond him in every measure calculated to enslave the peo ple and establish the throne in an impossible 64 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. despotism ; and with a people like the English free-born, with centuries of freedom behind them, loving freedom more than life, and as determined to be free as the King was to be absolute, there could be but one issue to the strife, and that was the destruction of the one or the other party; and since the people were not of a kind to annihilate themselves, it meant finally the destruction of the King. But that was later, as we shall see. At first, after the accession of the Stuarts, despotism increased. The Star-Chamber took the place of Parliament, and the high commission took the place of ecclesiastical courts and convoca tions; the reign of tyranny was established. It was during that time that a young man named John Milton was prevented from tak ing orders in the church, because, as he said, " to take orders meant to subscribe yourself a slave," and it was then that he wrote his great protest " Comus " ; and that Hampton sent a thrill of new life and. hope through England by his resistance of the illegal levy and des potic collection of ship money. And when Parliament at last assembled, the threat of the King to dissolve it if it did not refrain from meddling with affairs of state and undoing the work of fifteen years of tyranny by declaring his acts illegal, and sending his ministers and ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 65 prelates to prison and the block, as it did in the cases of the chief of them, caused Parlia ment to pass a bill declining to be dissolved save by its own consent, and later another, in which it declared to the House of Lords, whose policy of obstruction came well-nigh undoing all the good work of the Commons, "The Commons will be glad to have your concurrence and help in saving the kingdom, but if they fail of it, it should not discourage them of doing their duty; and whether the kingdom be lost or saved, they shall be sorry that the story of this present Parliament should tell-tale posterity that in so great a danger and extremity the House of Com mons should be enforced to save the kingdom alone." And although a warning voice was sounded in the ears of Charles to the effect, " They who go about to break Parliament are broken by Parliament," he turned a deaf ear to wisdom. He at once proceeded to raise troops by Royal commission to be used against Parliament, and Parliament in turn was forced to arms. Already the men had sailed from Dover with the crown jewels to buy munitions of war, and attempts were be ing made to raise an army in the North. But even though controversy had taken the form of armed hostility, the Parliament was 66 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. reluctant to conquer. It did not want to con quer or humiliate its King. Essex and Man chester, who headed the Parliamentary army, were agreed in declining to come to a de cisive battle with the Royal forces and so end the war. They thought to teach the King a lesson and bring him to his senses by showing him where the real power of the kingdom lay. And so they refused to take him captive when it was perfectly clear, both at Northampton and at Edge Hill, that they might easily do so. Charles interpreted their hesitancy as weakness and fear, and was the more resolved to fight. Although he had forbidden freedom of speech in Parliament, and had put its lead ers in prison; although he had robbed his subjects disastrously and illegally imperilled their lives, they were still ready to forgive their King and restore him to favor on the slightest return of reason to its bereft throne. But Charles was as incapable of reason as he was of generosity or justice; and it was not until the battle of Naseby, when the King's baggage and all his papers were captured, and the depth of his perfidy was revealed in a con spiracy to bring in a Roman Catholic army, and his solemn promise to grant all the de mands of the Roman Catholic party, that his fate was sealed. ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 67 Let us, however, go back a little. With Charles I. pandemonium had again returned to England and reigned supreme. He was at heart a Romanist, and was pledged to Louis XIV. of France to re-establish Roman rule in England. His oath to maintain religious toleration in England was never kept nor meant to be. He played off the Episcopalians, the Presbyteri ans and the Independents against one another, and protected the Romanists as far as he dared ; his unblushing sensuality, frivolous na ture and trifling spirit outraged and exasper ated the nation. James IL, who succeeded him, was as cold-blooded and morose as Charles had been good-natured and frivolous ; but no less a sensualist and far more wrong-headed a-nd obstinate. A fatal Nemesis in the form of short-sightedness, wrong-headedness and ob stinacy, together with a total inability to learn by experience, attended the Stuart race from the beginning, brought them into increas ingly greater difficulties, as though by the de sign of some evil genius; and finally made an end of them. So malignant and unrelenting was James in his determination to re-establish Romanism, that he placed in the Chief Justice ship the brutal tool known to history as the " Bloody Jeffries " — who was also placed at 68 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. the head of the illegal High Commission — who went everywhere in England, shutting up in prison, hanging, beheading, and burning the noblest, the ablest, the most virtuous, and the most loyal subjects on the flimsiest of pre tences, because they were not found conform able to the Royal will in the matter of re establishing Romanism in the land. His per sistent attempt to subvert the Protestant re ligion brought at length upon James a just judgment. The people were unreconcilably alienated from him and his house. Twice he fled for his life, and the second time before the advancing army of his son-in-law, William of Orange, who, at the invitation of the peo ple, came over from Holland, where he was Stadtholder, to share the throne with his wife ; and Protestantism was at last firmly and in- contestably established in England. On his accession the Act of Toleration secured prac tical religious liberty to England. The Ro manists were excluded from its privileges, it is true, but that was due more to political than to religious causes; for they formed a small but resolute political party under a religious guise bent on the subversion of English liberties and constitutional government. The welfare of the state demanded that they be held in check ; but it was unfortunate, and their own ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 69 fault, that pressure had to be brought to bear on the side of religion. But the real issues of the Reformation had been established and fixed, and it required only a century of peace and justice so to work them out that they would appear at their real value to all men, even as they did in the latter part of the eighteenth century by statute laws, when re ligious disabilities were removed. At Marston Moor, however, a new force and a new man appeared. It was the first ap pearance on any battlefield of a brigade which was to grow into an army, was to be known as the " Ironsides," and was never to know defeat on any battlefield. The general of these brave men was one Cromwell, a Yorkshire farmer of some means, and of a famous ances try. His forbears had sat in the Parliaments of Elizabeth, and himself in those of James. On his mother's side, he was connected with the Hampdens, and with Sir John Oliver. When his father died, he was a student at Cambridge; but returned home to take up the duties of head, of the family. Oliver Cromwell saw that the fight was not between the King and his Parliament, but be tween warring and irreconcilable religious fac tions. A religious principle was at stake. It was a moral, not a civil issue. And so, on his 70 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. own responsibility, and at his own expense, Cromwell raised a regiment of one thousand, every one of them picked according to his view; which was, as he wrote to Hamp den, that religious enthusiasm alone could meet and defeat the Cavaliers. In other words, they were not mercenary troops, not soldiers of fortune; neither were they the idlers and stragglers and adventurers of the city. They were, on the contrary, sturdy and substantial yeomen, neighbors of their gen eral, and of his religious persuasion and aus tere manner of life. They were " men of religion," as Cromwell called them, who ad ventured their earthly all for their convictions, and looked for nothing in return but freedom of conscience and liberty to worship God ac cording to their convictions. Such men were greatly to be feared in a religious war. They could forgive Charles that he had taxed them contrary to the law and even oppres sively; that he had interfered with the free dom of speech in Parliament, and put its lead ers in the Tower; and that he threatened the personal liberty and the lives of every subject who disagreed with him ; and three-fourths of his subjects did so disagree with him, and were so threatened by him. But they could not forgive him that he should set himself in the ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 7 1 place of God to them, and seek to make his will and the wills of his court favorites, Buck ingham, Wentworth and Laud, supreme, and above the will of God. When they saw that to be his purpose, they rose in a body and said with Elliot, " Danger enlarges itself in so great a measure that nothing but Heaven shrouds us from despair." " The Gospel," said Elliot, in a speech in Parliament, " is that truth in which this kingdom has been happy in a long and rare prosperity. This ground, therefore, let us lay for a foundation of our building, that that truth, not with words, but with ac tions, we will maintain : " and the following : " there is a ceremony used in the Eastern churches of standing at the repetition of the creed, to testify the purpose to maintain it, not only with their bodies upright, but with their swords drawn — give me leave to call that a custom very commendable." If the infatuated and obdurate Charles had but had ears, he would have heard in those and similar speeches from Elliot and Hamp den and Vane; from Cromwell and Sells and Pym; from Sidney and Victon Hollis and Strode and Haselrig, words of warning; and had he but had wisdom, he would have taken knowledge in time of the temper and spirit of the people. 72 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. The success of Cromwell led to a reorgani zation of the Parliamentary army on his basis, which was called the new model, and his dar ing brought him rapidly to the front. At Newbury, the King might have been cap tured; but Manchester declined, and Crom well accused him to Parliament of " being afraid to conquer," and he declared, " If I met the King in battle, I would fire my pistol at the King as at another." There was a new basis on which to fight. That was the beginning of the end. In less than a year's time Naseby was fought to win, the King's forces were broken, his troops surrounded, his baggage, papers and ordnance fell into the hands of Parliament. Charles took refuge with the Scots, who, in turn, handed him over to Par liament. The army of the New Model or dered to disband, Cromwell returned to the pursuits of peace. The army, instead, how ever, of disbanding, as ordered by Parlia ment, lay, as it were, with arms, to watch the course of affairs ; and when it saw that Parlia ment was bent on despotism, just as the King had been, and would force Presbyterianism on the country, as he had tried to force Ca tholicism, it rallied to Triploe Heath, and raised the cry of justice. Civil war broke out afresh; but there were now three parties to ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 73 fight — the King, Parliament and the army. Cromwell now returned to the army, and in three days it was in full march upon London, with a demand for the settlement of the peace of the kingdom, the preservation of the rights and liberties of the subjects, the freedom of conscience, and religious toleration secured. These demands neither Parliament nor the King were minded to grant; but each in his own way was determined to subvert. The army finally took possession of London and of the Parliament, and proceeded to negotiate with the King on a basis of great moderation. Charles, however, was dead to all appeals. He temporized and evaded. " Playing off," as he wrote to a friend, " one party against the other," until the soldiers), exasperated and suspicious, cried out for a complete reorgani zation of the government, the abolition of the House of Lords and of monarchy. In the crisis Cromwell stood alone, insisting upon negotiations with the King and the most con servative measures. During all this time Charles was endeavor ing to embroil the English and the Scotch, hoping to get advantage of the army in that way ; and finally, becoming impatient, he took flight while the negotiations were at their height. Cromwell found that he had been 74 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. duped, and wrote, " The King is a man of great parts and great understanding, but so great a dissembler and so false a man that he is not to be trusted." Civil war now broke out afresh, and with its coming all thought of reconciliation with the King was swept from the minds of the army and its leaders. They gathered in a solemn prayer-meeting, and en tered into a solemn resolution and covenant, " that it was our duty, if ever the Lord brought us back again to peace, to call Charles Stuart, that man of blood, to account for the blood he has shed and the mischief he has wrought to his utmost against the Lord's cause and the people in this poor nation." In the midst of the turmoil and strife, Cromwell appears as the commanding genius, the presiding spirit of the nation — the real king of England. The boldness of his policy, and the celerity of his movements, confounded and defeated all opposition. It was a time when lawlessness was rife in England. A half century of misrule and other disregard for law on the part of the King and his ministers, together with their strenuous and stubborn attempts to break down all constitutional re straints upon the throne, had made England drunk with the usurpation of powers, and mad with defiance of law. A certain recklessness ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 75 had seized all the classes of the people, and in the midst of the wreck of law and order the question for each party became that of actual power. All rights and privileges were in abeyance. Cromwell had the power and the ability to use it. He seized the King, and then marched upon London. A court was formed for the trial of the King, who denied its jurisdiction. He was none the less found guilty, at the mouths of thirty-two witnesses, and condemned to death, as a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and enemy of his country. And thus was brought to pass the saying of " They who go about to break Parliaments are sure to be broken by them." Parliament now proceeded to appoint a Council of State, to take the place of the King, then to abolish the House of Lords, and then to establish a free state, with the authority of the nation vested in " The repre sentatives of the people in Parliament." The army proceeded to lay down the program of procedure, insisted upon the dissolution of the old Parliament and the election of a new one, on the basis of a redistribution of seats, such as would give representation to all towns of importance, and election to all house-holders even among the poor. The House accepted the proposal, but hesitated to 76 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. disband. Disorders arose in the army in con sequence. Charles II. soon landed upon the coast of Scotland, and Cromwell, who had meanwhile wreaked summary justice in Ire land, started for the North, spreading a whole some respect for the army as he marched. At Dunbar and Winchester, he routed the Loyal ist forces and cut them to pieces, and sent Charles flying once more across the seas. But Parliament still reigned, and meditated meas ures for the disbandment of the army, in spite of its pledges to disband itself. It even, in the person of Sir Harry Vane, introduced a bill for the continuance of its own members in the next Parliament, with the right of revision of all elections reserved to them. In other words, it was trying to make of itself a self- perpetuating body, with the supreme power in its own hands. It was while Sir Harry Vane was pressing this bill upon the House, in spite of a compact made the evening before with the Council of State, that neither side should do anything without another conference, that Cromwell exclaimed, when he heard of it, " This is perfidy ! " and summoning thirty musketeers to follow him, went to the House. He sat through Vane's speech, and at the moment of putting the motion to the House, he rose and spoke against the bill. He waxed ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 77 warm as he spoke of the injustice, self-interest and delay of the Commons, and finally cried out, " Your hour is come ! " Then, amidst an uproar, he clapped his hat upon his head, and advanced to the middle of the floor, his voice rising above the tumult, he was heard to cry : " The Lord hath done with you ! Come, come, we have had enough of this. I will put an end to your prating. It is not fit that you should sit here any longer; you should give place to better men ; you are no Parliament." And as the musketeers entered, at a signal from their general, he called to the members as they passed him such invectives as their conduct merited, and to Vane's protest he cried out: "Ah, Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane, you might have prevented all this, but you are a juggler, and have no common hon esty! The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane!" When all had departed, and Cromwell had sent the men away, he locked the door of the chamber, and put the key in his pocket. He next proceeded to disperse the Council of State, and so was left as Captain-General of the forces, solely responsible for the order of the realm. He had committed violence against the Rump Parliament, as it was called ; but he had prevented them from a far greater 78 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. act of violence, that of disfranchising half of England. And the country at large accepted and applauded his act. " We did not hear a dog bark at their going," he said afterwards. The power, thus left in Cromwell's hands, was used wisely and well, without a trace of the military despot or self-created dictator. A new Council of State was appointed, with Cromwell at its head, and it proceeded to summon a new Parliament. A constituent convention was called, to which was deputed the task of settling the manner of calling a new Parliament, which, after floundering and drifting about in the shoals and quicksands of debate for six months, died of exhaustion, and yielded up into the hands of the Lord General the powers he had deputed to them at their coming together. The Council of State and of Officers then proceeded to convene a Parliament on a reform basis of repre sentation. They meanwhile drew up a con stitution for government, and named Crom well Protector of the Commonwealth, which office he accepted only on the ground that it limited his powers and made him responsible to the Council, and so took away the re sponsible dictatorship which attached to his position of Lord General of the Army. This provision was generally acceptable to the ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 79 English people, and the Parliament which met confirmed it. But Cromwell, not satisfied with the proceedings of the Parliament, dis solved it, and proceeded to govern with the Council of State. In order to do this, he had to resort to high-handed measures, which brought him into open conflict with ancient laws, and not seldom with the will of the people. He resumed, deliberately, a dictator ship which he had previously voluntarily re signed, and resolutely declined. That he did so for sufficient reasons, we cannot doubt. He probably saw that Parliament was unable to cope with the situation. Their discordant councils and dilatory methods were calculated to keep the country in turmoil, and embroil it in new difficulties. The manner in which he used his power, and the evils which befell the nation, when his strong hand no longer held the helm, must be his justification. He as sumed the reins of government when England was at her lowest ebb as a nation, rent by in ternal factions and beset by foreign foes; the government disorganized and disbanded, the army unpaid and mutinous. He created a government de novo, assumed the responsibil ity for the administration, united and har monized the three kingdoms, suppressed insurrection and revolt, stamped out incendi- 80 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. arism, and made favorable treaties with for eign powers ; all in the course of a few months. He pacified the State, so that the ravages of war were soon forgotten. Prosperity set in in full force. Reforms were everywhere insti tuted, order restored throughout the king dom, the laws respected and obeyed. The civil courts were reformed and reorganized on a basis of religious toleration and an edu cated and Godly ministry. In a word, the land had rest, and prospered as it had never done before. Cromwell's foreign policy equalled the vigor and enterprise of his home office. He aimed at nothing short of placing England at the head of a great Protestant alliance. To this end, he concluded treaties with Holland, Sweden and Denmark. When the Duke of Savoy ruthlessly massacred his Protestant subjects in the Valleys of Piedmont, he sent his army with stern demands of redress, and the promise of instant war if the demands were not met. Ten thousand men stood ready to descend from the Swiss Alps upon the north of Italy at the signal from the Lord Protector of England. He was able to pro tect a Protestant or a subject of England in any part of Europe as well as at home, for his power was feared from the Atlantic to the ENGLAND — WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 8l Black Sea, and from the Arctic to the Med iterranean. Never had England been so firmly or so finely governed, and never did a king use his power and state with more wis dom and grandeur than did Cromwell. A second Parliament, called in 1657, pressed upon him the title of king, after it had con firmed and commended his rule; but that he steadily declined. They empowered him, however, to name his successor, and when, three years later, he died, worn out with la bors and disease, so great was his power still that a reported nomination which lacked con firmation was sufficient to set his son, Rich ard, firmly and indisputably in his seat, and would have maintained him there if there had been anything in him to maintain. But Rich ard, being what his father would have called a man of straw, practically left the office va cant ; and, there being no head to the govern ment or the army, it fell, without a struggle, into the hands of the Royalists, and Charles II. returned to England without a blow and occupied the palaces and the thrones of his ancestors, remarking as he did so, with char acteristic wit, that it was his own fault he had not done so long before, since everybody he saw assured him that they had always wished him there. 82 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Cromwell was a born ruler of men, and pos sessed all the strange, mysterious powers by means of which one man is able to mould a nation into conformity and likeness with him self. He was a man of mighty spirit, capa cious understanding, indomitable will, and absolute fearlessness. He had an intense na ture, quick, urgent, powerful, undeniable im pulses, a large resolute purpose, and a strong, indefatigable body. The wisdom, power and grandeur of Crom well's rule, together with its justice, mag nanimity and beneficence, is its own best justification. He was the most absolute and despotic ruler England ever had; but England never enjoyed greater liberty than under his reign. He called the learned and enlightened John Milton to be his secre tary. He stoutly maintained religious liberty, equality of justice, the incorruptibleness of the courts, the personal freedom and security of every citizen. Peace, prosperity and happi ness reigned in England as it had not done even under Elizabeth. While there was some opposition, the great mass of the people sup ported him joyfully. Abroad, his name was dreaded. He set himself at the head of the Protestant interests in Europe, protected his brethren from persecution and adopted con- ENGLAND WYCLIF TO CROMWELL. 83 ciliatory measures. His ships, under the command of his friend, Blake, swept the Med iterranean free of pirates and bombarded Algiers, their stronghold. He secured the island of Jamaica in the West Indies, and that gave him a base of naval operations against Spain in America; and when he died, the weak and contemptible son who succeeded to his office without opposition, might have held it in his father's name if he had had a tithe of his father's worthiness. LECTURE III. THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN GER MANY LUTHER, THE HERO OF THE REFORMATION. On the left bank of the Rhine, about half way between the cities of Maintz and Heidel berg, is the little city of Worms. It has no present political or commercial interest for the world; but its historic importance is of the first order, for here was enacted one of the great events of the world, which "lifted empires off their hinges and turned the chan nels of history from their courses." A massive and magnificent monument ex plains that event, and stands near the spot where it took place. On a broad, central plat form, each on its own pedestal, in heroic size, sit the figures of Wyclif, Huss, Savonarola and Peter Waldo, the forerunners of Refor mation. Above them are Frederick the Wise, Phillip the Generous, Melancthon the Scholar, and Reuchlin the Humanist. Below them are the allegorical figures of the cities of Mar burg, Augsburg and Speyer. There are also GERMANY — LUTHER. 85 medallion portraits of Luther's contempo raries who contributed to the Reformation, and the arms of the twenty-four towns that first received it. Towering above all, on the central pedestal, is the heroic figure of Lu ther himself, an open Bible in his left hand, with his right laid emphatically upon it, while courage and faith, the two qualities for which he was most remarkable, are admirably de picted upon his face. Massive and grand as this monument is in itself, its chief interest for the American Protestant is in the event which made it ap propriate to this spot, and the four centuries of history which it summarizes. On the 17th day of May, 1521, if you had been in Worms, as was all Germany that could get there, and much of Europe besides, you might have witnessed the grandest spec tacle of history (save only that which took place in Pilate's hall fifteen hundred years before and which made this one inevitable) and the most important event for the world since that day. The Diet or assemblage of the empire was in session. It was composed of the digni taries and notables, lay and ecclesiastic, of Christendom. This particular assemblage was one of the most remarkable that had ever 86 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. been held. It was called for a particular pur pose, then of the most vital interest to Eu rope — the condemnation of heresy and the burning of heretics, at that time quite numer ous and bold in Germany, of whom one Mar tin Luther, an Augustinian monk, was the chief offender. There was the Emperor Charles V., the practical owner of all Europe and America, to whom Germany was but a small province, and on his right his brother, Archduke Ferdinand. They were surrounded by a brilliant retinue of kings, princes and no bles from all parts of Europe, and the most famous and powerful of the ecclesiastical princes — the Pope himself being represented by special envoys. Luther's own sovereign, Frederick the Wise, was there, and in all about five thousand persons, of high degree and of every rank, representatives of sover eigns and delegates of imperial cities, were gathered in and about the hall. About four o'clock in the afternoon you might have seen, being led through back streets and by a cir cuitous route, so as to avoid the press and be able to reach the hall, a tall, spare man, in a monk's habit of the Dominican order. Now, the out-of-the-way streets through which he passes unexpectedly are lined with silent spec tators and crowded with people. At last he GERMANY — LUTHER. 87 reaches the hall and stands uncovered in the presence of the brilliant throng, at the call of the herald, to answer the charge of heresy and disloyalty to the Church of Rome. He is a plain and humble man, about thirty- eight years of age, and, as can be seen by his demeanor, not accustomed to such an assem blage. He is dazed and bewildered by the experience he has just passed through and the spectacle that now surrounds him. He carries himself with dignity and self-restraint, but he asks for time. He is not prepared to answer the unexpected charges, nor to com ply with the extraordinary request. There is a soldier-like bearing and a sense of sup pressed energy in his frame, and a strange, unusual light in his eyes as he addresses the assemblage — a light which one of the papal emissaries had once seen there in the cloister at Erfurt and warned the prior to have a care for that monk, for he was bound to make trouble. The same scene was repeated at the same hour on the following day, but with a far different ending. A complete set of Luther's writings was piled upon the table before him, and he was asked to recant them each sep arately and by name. He rose to address the council. 88 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. He speaks in German and in Latin. His voice is strong and manly, and rings in every part of the great hall. His speech is rapid, but clear and distinct. He quotes from the Fathers, the Scriptures and the records of councils, and shows himself a master in the subtleties of theology and philosophy. He divides his works into three classes: (i) Those upon faith and morals, based upon the Scrip tures. These he could not retract. (2) Those upon the Papacy and its doings, which he said had ruined Christendom, body and soul. These he must not retract. (3) Those which he had written against certain opponents of his. These he would not retract. But in all he stood ready, if any one would prove his error from Scripture, to retract. The papal delegate, unable to endure longer the boldness of the monk, rose and declared they were not there to hear matters discussed that had already been settled, and demanded that he give them a plain answer — " Yes or no ! without any horns. Do you recant ? " " Well, then," replied the imperturbable monk, " if your Imperial Majesty and your Graces require a plain answer, I will give you one without either horns or teeth. It is this : I must be convinced, either by the witness of Scripture or by clear argument, for I do not GERMANY LUTHER. 89 trust either Pope or councils by themselves, since it is manifest that they have often erred and contradicted themselves." The brilliant assemblage was dazed and con founded by such language, for they had never heard it in that wise before; and the Emperor gave the signal to end the matter. Luther, supposing that his own end had come when he saw the signal, exclaimed : " Here stand I. I can do naught else. God help me. Amen." The Emperor sat silent and abashed upon his throne. The papal envoys fumed with rage, but were silent and baffled. The hearts of the great assemblage were thrilled, and they were awed into silence ; a great hush fell upon them, like the stillness of death. Hundreds of eyes, unused to tears, were moistened, and hundreds of young hearts, not accustomed to serious emotions, leaped with a bound of joy, withal with sympathy and purpose of protection for the simple, honest, fearless, godly monk. Luther walked out of that assemblage free from danger. He seemed to live something like what, in superstitious days, was known as a charmed life. Though a price was set upon his head, and armed assassins went about in bands to take him, and the papal 90 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. representative in every city was charged to apprehend him, and the force of the empire itself was enlisted to compass and secure his death, yet he walked openly among men and did his work, preaching where he would, for twenty-five years, and died a natural death at last at Eisleben, the place of his birth. The thrill that ran through the assembly at these words passed over Germany like the shock of an earthquake, and divided the na tion into two religious factions. Two-thirds of the Pope's spiritual children were lost to him in that hour, and the Roman Catholic Church has not been able to recover from that shock. A new epoch in the world's his tory then began. Let us consider now some of the events that led up to the council at Worms. In the month of November, 1483, or just about 420 years ago, there was born in Eisleben, of John and Margaret Luther, peasants, a son, who was shortly after baptized by the parish priest as Martin Luther. He was baptized according to the rites of the Romish Church. There was no other then anywhere in Eu rope. His parents were poor, God-fearing, pious folk, as his ancestors were known to have been such three generations back, and, after the fashion of their day, they were GERMANY — LUTHER. 9 1 strictly religious, according to the faith of the Romish Church. They reared their son in the same faith, with a rigor and remorselessness that made a deep impression upon his youth and somewhat saddened his sensitive spirit; but he was of a robust nature, and perhaps needed to be kept well within bounds. His whole career shows him to have been by na ture of a fiery, fearless, impetuous, headlong temper, kept in bounds only by reason of the severe and unrelenting training and discipline to which he subjected himself. This part of the work his parents seem to have begun for him, and taught him how to do for himself. They were wise as well as severe with their son, for they discerned in him marks of prom ise which caused them to destine him for a university education, with all that meant of labor and self-denial for themselves. His father was a poor miner, and it required heroic self-sacrifice on the part of them all to keep the oldest son at school and send him to the university. But that is what they did. He was brought up an orthodox Catholic, and was of a devout disposition. At the age of fourteen he wanted to make a pilgrimage to Rome, as a means of expiating his sins ; but his father had destined him for a lawyer or other profession, and had no patience what- 92 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ever with Martin's leaning toward a religious life, so that when the crisis came, as it did, in 1505, it resulted in a complete rupture be tween father and son. That was a fateful year for the world. Lu ther was a devout and scrupulous man. He assumed the religious life for the purpose of being a religious man. He had studied law and was not interested in it. He had studied medicine, and took no interest in that. He had found a Bible at Erfurt, and had become engrossed in that, and be a monk he would and give his time to that. Being what he was, Luther could not be anything by halves. Had he stuck by the Catholic ecclesiasticism of his youth, he would probably have risen to the highest dignity in the Church, for he was, of all the men of his age, and it was a great age, a born leader of men. He had a commanding genius, which was destined either to lead the world in its chosen paths, or to dig out new channels for the world's life to flow in. At the age of twenty-five he had already be come a marked man, and was called to a chair of the University of Wittenberg and to the pulpit of its great church. He became at once the idol of the students who thronged his lectures, and of the populace, who crowded the church to the chancel rail whenever he preached. GERMANY — LUTHER. 93 Now that was a strange age and one fo menting with intellectual and physical activ ity, as no other age that preceded it had ever been; and it was also characterized by eccle siastical profligacy beyond any other age. You will recall that it was the age of Erasmus and Raphael and Michael Angelo and Albert Diirer; the age of Columbus and Vasco Da Gama. It was a period of inventions and dis coveries. The art of printing by movable types had just been established. The discov ery of gunpowder had revolutionized the art of war and, by making every peasant equal to a knight, had overthrown the order of knighthood. The discovery of new continents in a new hemisphere and the invention of the magnetic compass had opened an entirely new field for human activity and a new door for human liberty. Copernicus had explored the heavens with his telescope and discovered the true order of the universe. Descartes had added to the liberty and richness of human thought. The crusades had opened up the eastern world to exploration and commerce. Industries had greatly increased in conse quence and commerce extended its sphere. The writings of ancient sages, long buried in ancient eastern monasteries, had been un earthed and brought into use. The several 94 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. nationalities of Europe were crystallizing and taking form. France and Italy, Spain and England, had already laid the foundations for a national life. In the midst of all this movement in so many directions for the betterment of man kind and the permanent improvement of the race, one institution alone remained station ary, untouched by the flow of intellectual and political influences of quickening and awaken ing all about her, and that institution was the hierarchy at Rome. The new life was felt in all her monasteries and universities through out Europe, and its impulseand direction came from them; but Rome, the Papacy, was un touched. She sat secure in her splendor and wealth, and cared not. But she did want mon ey ; and money she must have, for St. Peter's was building and vast improvements were being constantly made at the Vatican; besides, Leo X.was upon the papal throne, a profligate and spendthrift of the most prodigal type. In order to keep up a steady and voluminous flow of coin into the coffers of the Vatican, a new and ingenious device had been invented by Pope John XXII., of infamous memory. He had originated the sale of indulgences and the system of taxation for every sin. This system Innocent VIII. had perfected by inventorying GERMANY — LUTHER. 95 every sin and scheduling it with a fixed price. Immunity could be purchased from purgatory for the sins of sensuality at 12 ducats, of sac rilege at 9 ducats, of murder at 7 ; for murder of parents or kin, 4 ducats. The indulgence consisted of a ticket, on which was printed the figure of a monk, with cross, crown of thorns and flaming heart. In the upper right- hand corner there was a nailed hand of the Saviour; in the lower left a foot. On the front were the words : " Pope Leo X. Prayer. This is the length and breadth of the wounds of Christ. As often as one kisses it, he has seven years indulgence." How much he would have had to pay for that offense under the term sacrilege deponent saith not. These tickets were deposited with various bankers throughout Europe, and in the less populated regions they were hawked about in carts, like cabbages, by monks and priests, and sold by the millions. Between the years 1500 and 1517, five ex traordinary issues of indulgences were made, and the text of those who hawked them was, " God willeth not the death of a sinner, but that he shall pay and live." They hung such notices on their carts as this : " The red in dulgence cross, with the Pope's arms sus pended on it, has the same virtue as the cross 96 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. of Christ. The dealer in pardons saves more souls than Peter." Thus the sacrilege went on until it became madness. The people of Europe, but espe cially of Germany at that time, were steeped in ignorance, in superstition, and in licentious ness. Nevertheless, they had hearts and con sciousness, and desired the favor of God and the hope of heaven, and they knew no other way to get them than to buy the indulgences the Church offered them. The Bible had never been read in their hearing, nor had any religious service ever been performed among them in a tongue that they understood. They were harangued from time to time from the pulpits by drunken and licentious priests, but always in the interests of the superstitions being perpetrated upon them for the sake of gain, and, knowing themselves to be sinful, they actually believed that the purchase of these indulgences would purchase for them the pardon for which they longed. Hence they thronged about the indulgence carts whenever they appeared, and these clumsy vehicles fairly groaned under the weight of gold they carried to the strongholds of the Church. Among these sacrilegious traffickers there were none so brazen and shameless as one GERMANY — LUTHER. 97 Tetzel, a sub-commissioner of the Archbishop Albert of Maintz, within whose jurisdiction lay the city of Wittenberg, where at that time Luther was stationed. Said Archbishop was not deeply trusted in money matters by those who knew him best, nor did he himself trust his emissaries in finance, perhaps from a kin dred feeling. At any rate, it was stipulated that the proceeds from the sale of indulgences in his diocese should be equally divided be tween himself and the Pope, and that its safe keeping and division should rest with the agents of the banking house of Augsburg. Thus escorted and equipped, the shameless Tetzel, a Dominican monk, went his rounds; but no sooner had he got well started than a warning voice was lifted in the pulpit at Wittenberg, cautioning the people against the robbery and the imposture and warning them to have nothing to do with the infamous busi ness. At the same time the preacher, for it was Luther, wrote earnestly to the Arch bishop and the Pope, begging them to desist from the evil and to call off their emissaries. One letter followed another, entreating, be seeching, praying in the name of God and Christ, that the evil be stopped ; but all to no purpose. Tetzel drew near to Wittenberg, and Lu- 98 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ther, in despair, sat down and wrote out his reasons against the iniquity — ninety-five in number — and in the form of propositions, and challenged the world to debate them, in order to free his own conscience and gain further light upon the subject. Early on the morn ing of October 31, 15 17, the sound of a ham mer was heard on the church door of Witten berg, as Martin Luther, with his own hand, nailed the document containing his ninety-five propositions against the sale of indulgences to the door of the church, waking the echoes within and resounding deep in the hearts of multitudes who gathered to see what was go ing on. The document was read, and its contents began to spread and be discussed. When at length Tetzel set up his shop at Leipsie, near Wittenberg, he found a cool reception for himself and no market for his indulgences. Great indignation was aroused among the hierarchy. Efforts were made to remonstrate with Luther, but he would have nothing short of a cessation of the abominable traffic and a repudiation of what he termed " the indul gence preacher's shameless and wanton words." Then he was summoned to answer for his words at Augsburg. Then he wrote his cele- GERMANY— LtfTHER. 9$ brated letter, "An Appeal from the Pope badly informed to the Pope well informed." As this had no effect, he appealed from the Pope to a council. The result was that Mil titz, a celebrated diplomatist, was dispatched from Rome to see Luther and patch up the quarrel, for the Pope, the elegant voluptuary, Leo X., considered the matter to be nothing but, as he said, " a squabble of monks." Mil titz addressed himself to the task with great skill, disavowed the actions of the vendors of indulgences, and agreed that if Luther would say nothing more about the matter, the ob jectionable practice should be stopped. There were two clauses in the agreement: 1. Both parties are forbidden to preach or write on the subject, or to take any further ac tion upon it. 2. The exact position of affairs is to be communicated to the Pope, and a learned bishop will be appointed to investigate the points at issue and report. That was a flag of truce, you see, as between two equal pow ers. Abroad, Luther was a power that had to be reckoned with. For far less than he had done Huss had been burned. Then said Luther, " Let them convict me of my error, and I will retract, and not till then." But the papal au thorities having secured, as they thought, Lu- IOO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ther's silence, proceeded to take advantage of it by opening a discussion at Leipsic between Eck, a celebrated scholar and debater, and Carlstadt, a man somewhat infected with Lu ther's views. Luther was wise enough to dis cover the ruse at once. He writes : " The wrong-headed fellow is fuming against me and my writings, but he challenges some one else as his adversary and attacks him. But this discussion will turn out badly for the Ro man claims and usages, and they are the staffs upon which the Church is leaning." He at once made his way to Leipsic and joined in the discussion, but with little prac tical result, except the easy overthrow of his antagonist in argument. In despair of accomplishing anything through the Church or its authorities, he turns now to the German people. He tells the princes that they must take the work of reform into their own hands; that it belongs to them ; and that God will hold them respon sible for it; that the people constitute the Church and not the priests, and the authority rests with them. He attacked the Catholic doctrines of tran substantiation and asceticism and emphasized the necessity of Christian liberty. One step followed another in quick succes- GERMANY — LUTHER. 101 sion at this period of Luther's development. He had no intention whatever of breaking with the Church, but was determined upon its reform, and, as he said, he " would sooner die, be burned, be banished, be anathematized," than yield. With all his greatness, Luther was not a prudent man. His contempt of all expedi ents for his own safety, and bold daring in the face of danger, constantly exposed him and his cause to the plots and conspiracies of his unscrupulous foes. Had there not been a watchful eye always on him, a solicitous and resourceful mind on the alert, and a powerful arm always extended over him, he would doubtless have gone the way of Savonarola and Huss, as Henry VIII. told him that he would, and as the edict of the Diet of Worms declared that he should. But the good and wise Frederick took care of the monk, and saw to it that no harm befell him. Knowing the temper of the man, he knew better than to offer him an asylum ; but when his enemies were lying in wait for him on his way home from Worms, the Elector had his retainers fall upon him in the road and carry him off bodily to his strong castle, the Wartburg, where he managed to hold him until the danger was past. The loyalty of this great prince to the 102 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. blunt and outspoken monk, in spite of the reprimands he sometimes administered to him, is beautiful and touching. While Luther was in the Wartburg trou bles arose in Wittenberg among his follow ers, the more intense and extreme of whom had become fanatical and were making them selves ridiculous by their extravagances. Luther could not see the cause so near his heart jeopardized or disgraced by violence and fanaticism — he was himself an ardent en thusiast — but blind fanaticism was abhorrent to him, and he saw at once that the attempts of the fanatics violently to sweep away the ancient usages and customs of religion would react harmfully upon the effort at reform, so he left the castle, where he was under guard, and returned to his pulpit to set things right, and he risked his life in so doing. The Elector warned him that he could not protect him in Wittenberg, and Luther re plied, " Since I now perceive that your Elec toral Grace is still very weak in the faith, I can by no means regard your Electoral High ness as the man who is able to shield or to save me." And so he assures him not to fear for him, for that he goes forth under a far higher protector than his own, and that he was engaged in a cause not to be aided by the sword. GERMANY LUTHER. IO3 The incident is a tribute not only to Lu ther's simplicity of faith, but also to the Elec tor's greatness and loftiness of mind, for he never relaxed his vigilance for Luther's safety nor resented, in the slightest degree, what to some men would have seemed like gross in gratitude and unpardonable rudeness. Only two truly great souls could have so under stood each other as to have maintained a friendship unbroken on such a basis of abso lute frankness. Luther's was a swift-moving, relentlessly logical and fearlessly bold mind. For him to arrive at a conviction was to act upon it; to perceive a truth was to declare it. So rapid were his motions and so daring his utterances that, in 1520, three years after the posting of his theses, he was excommunicated by a bull from Rome. The dauntless courage of the man, and the decision of his character, come into full relief in his treatment of the bull of excommunica tion. When it arrived in Wittenberg, he called it an execrable bull of Antichrist, and, assembling the faculty and students of the university, led them in solemn procession to the public square, where, in the presence of a great concourse of people, he solemnly burned the papal bull. A more daring act 104 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. than that was never committed. It flung de fiance in the face of the highest dignitary in Christendom, and challenged him to do his worst. The best of Leo X. was bad, and his worst could not be exceeded. He immedi ately entered into an agreement with the Em peror, Charles V., by which Luther was to be laid under the ban of the empire. That meant that a price was upon his head, and whoever harbored him or administered to him or held intercourse with him was subject to the penalty of death. The Diet of Worms was again assembled for the purpose of pronouncing that sentence. Luther's friends warned him that he ought not to go there when the Emperor sent for him, and especially when it was known that his works had been condemned to be burned before he arrived. They tried to prevent him from going on, but he boldly declared, " I will ride in, if there are as many devils in Worms as there are tiles on the housetops." Just as he had declared, when they tried to prevent him from going to Leipsic, when duty called him there, and it was shown that the Duke was hostile to him, Luther said, " I will go to Leipsic, though it rained Duke Georges nine days." Although paid assassins went about to at- GERMANY — LUTHER. 105 tack him, and many would have been glad to purchase heaven and a rich reward at the same time by his death, none assaulted him. His very daring, the boldness and dauntless- ness of his bearing, was enough to overawe the boldest spirits of his time, to say nothing of the miserable caitiffs that sought his death. In the early days at Erfurt the papal visitor had warned the prior to be careful of the monk with the strange light in his eyes, for he was sure to make trouble, and when, in 1 5 18, Capitan, the papal legate, met him, he declared, " I could scarcely look the man in the face, such a diabolical fire darted out of his eyes." Luther was never conscious of danger in his great work, and if he had been, he would still have braved it in the spirit with which he braved the Emperor's wrath. " If I had a thousand heads," he said, " they should all be cut off, one at a time, before I would recant." Nothing but that kind of courage could have served him in the great battle of freedom upon which he was now launched. A timid man or a compromiser, a time-server or a self-seeker, a man whose own life was dear unto him, with all Luther's genius, could not have done anything by way of reformation. It was long the case of one man against the 106 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. world ; only the lion-hearted could have faced it. Luther's iron will and absolutely unre lenting persistency carried the day against Pope and Emperor. Of course, Luther was not alone in his great work. His boldness soon encouraged and inspired others. The greatest scholar of the time was Erasmus, and he welcomed Luther's work at the beginning as though it was allied with his own. Certainly he did much to help Luther by his keen satires against the prevailing ecclesiastical customs. Even his own later attacks upon the Reformer, inspired as they were from the Vatican, could not undo what he had already done. But Me lancthon was Luther's chief helper. A pre cocious scholar, he was an expert in Greek and in theology at twenty. Luther called him " the little Greek," and said, " He surpasses me in theology, too." Taking his manu scripts, which the little Greek's modesty had prevented him from publishing, the great hearted Luther sent them to the press. He was the originator of the Protestant exegesis of the Scriptures and of Protestant systematic theology. He was indeed a greater technical theologian than Luther himself. Certain general conclusions in respect to the Struggle for Religious Liberty in Ger many may be here in order. GERMANY LUTHER. 107 The Reformation movement assumed three aspects — it was political, moral and theologi cal. It is sometimes said that in England it was political ; in Italy, so far as it went, it was moral, and in Germany, we may say that it was theological. But these terms are appli cable only as characterizing the most conspic uous phase of the movement in each case. As a matter of fact, they were all three of them present, in some degree, in all. The exigency of the time and the character of the men in control of affairs determined the par ticular direction the movement was to take. Your German is a man of speculative habit of mind, strongly subjective in his mental processes, thorough and critical in his in quiries. To him the truth of a thing is of the first importance, irrespective of its bearings; and the logical conclusions of truth, as far as he knows it, are imperative and controlling. He has a deathless love of freedom, an un quenchable thirst for righteousness, and the heroic virtues of fortitude, endurance and fearlessness, and withal a sound moral nature and great sagacity. To this German charac ter Luther's method was perfectly adapted. 1. Luther's position as a reformer is per fectly clear in his defense before the Diet. He there made his appeal from the Pope and the 108 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Church to the Scriptures and his own con science. The Scriptures were his ultimate au thority in religion, and his conscience bound him to these. The wonder of that position, even to us, arises from the fact that at this time Luther was a Roman Catholic, and there was no other Church in Europe. He had been brought up in the Catholic doctrine that the Church and the Pope were infallible. Lu ther pinned his faith to no human helpers, however great and powerful. He believed that his work was of God, and if it was not, he wanted it to come to naught ; hence he never would sanction the use of the sword in the cause of the Reformation. In 1529, at the Diet of Spires, the Em peror succeeded in dividing the German princes, securing a decree which forbade the spread of the new doctrine in those states where it was not already in control, but which secured liberty to the Catholics in those states where the new doctrine was in control. That action was taken in violation of a treaty al ready made at Spires in 1526, which secured practical religious liberty throughout Ger many. The adherents of Luther immediately raised a protest, and from that came the name Protestant. Not from their opposition to GERMANY LUTHER. IO9 Rome itself, but from their indignant protest against the duplicity and fraud with which Rome carried on the warfare with the Lu therans came the name Protestants, which has ever since been the honorable title of those who think with Luther. Nothing but his strenuous opposition at that time prevented the Protestant princes from declaring war against the Emperor. The Emperor was deceived by the Protes tant moderation at that time, and took it for weakness or cowardice, and at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1530, he gave them until Octo ber 31 of the following year in which to re turn to the Catholic fold or be annihilated. Then they saw their danger, and formed the defensive league of Smalcald, which, in spite of internal dissensions and treason, was able to hold the Emperor in check and secure the Protestant cause from damage until 1555, when the Diet of Augsburg conceded entire religious liberty to the Protestants. Charles V., foreseeing the issue of that as semblage, declined to take any part in it, and shortly after abdicated, because of his chagrin over the disappointment he suffered in not being able to crush Protestantism. He was the most powerful emperor the Holy Roman Empire ever had, and, after Charlemagne, the IIO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ablest of all the emperors. But here was a power against which he was powerless, and after a vain struggle of thirty-five years, he yielded up his sword. The battle for religious liberty in Germany had been fought and won against the allied powers of the world by the force of one intrepid spirit, a poor miner's son, unarmed, and with nothing but a Bible in his hand. It seemed that all Germany would become Protestant ; but a Judas arose within their ranks in the person of Maurice, Duke of Sax ony, who, out of personal pique against the Elector of Saxony, went over to the Emperor, and so weakened the Protestant forces. Al though he afterwards returned to the Protes tant ranks, he was not able, even by a victory over the Emperor, to remedy the disaster his secession had caused. Although Charles was compelled, at the Diet of Augsburg, to grant liberty to the Protestants, a heavy blow had been struck at the Reformation, for at Augs burg it was also stipulated that every prelate who became a Protestant was to resign his benefice. That practically marked the limits of Protestantism geographically in Germany for centuries. In all this work, which took two-thirds of Germany out of the hands of the Pope in a GERMANY — LUTHER. Ill space of twenty-eight years, Luther was the moving spirit and the presiding genius. He not only dictated the policy of the princes who espoused his cause in their relations with the empire, and directed the theological de bates at the Diets, but he guided his follow ers in all matters pertaining to their spiritual and temporal life. The formation and man agement of new churches, the creation of new moral standards and of a new ideal of domes tic life; the settlement of disputes between neighbors ; the creation of a system of general education for his Germans ; provision for their religious instruction; the translation of the Bible; the writing of hymns, commentaries and pamphlets; the conduct of great theo logical debates, and the preaching of sermons were some of the labors with which he occu pied himself during those twenty-eight years — labors so prodigious as to seem beyond the strength of any one man. And yet he accom plished them all with a good-natured ease and jocose indifference to labor that make it im possible for us to think of him as an over burdened man. The power of the Bible as a fighting weapon is brilliantly seen in the execution which it wrought in Luther's hands. Its effect upon himself we have already seen, in that it set him 112 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. in opposition to the established order and nerved him for the fight. Its effect upon the Germans, for whom he translated it, was equally marvelous. He began the work in the Wartburg, and kept it up with incredible care and labor, until the whole Bible was trans lated into the German. " No fine, courtly words," he wrote to one of his helpers. " This book must be under stood by the mother in the house, the children in the street, and the common man in the mar ket." It was notto be wondered atthat the people were soon talking about that book upon the streets and in the family circle. Apart from its religious influence, Luther's Bible gave the Germans what they never had had before — a standard for their language. A national tongue began to frame itself upon the vital, sinewy, idiomatic language of the Bible, and to supplant the local dialects. It also gave rise to a German literature. It furnished mental stimulus and instruction to the people. It entered into the life of the people with an exciting, reviving, transforming energy, and became a part of their national heritage. A demand soon arose for general education, and Luther set himself at work to devise a system of general popular education, the GERMANY LUTHER. II3 beneficial effects of which are seen at this day. Luther was a man of varied gifts and pro digious labors, as preacher, teacher, organ izer, translator, commentator and general ad ministrator. He did enough work in each department to have made the reputation of no ordinary man. Aside from his greatest work, and that which had the most far-reaching and perma nent result of all that he did, his translation of the Bible, he did many other things which had immediate and lasting results. In a single year he is said to have issued one hun dred and eighty-three publications. Com mentaries, pamphlets, tracts and letters flowed from his pen like water from a faucet, and, be sides, he was traveling and preaching, plant ing churches and guiding them in their early struggles. He was constantly in controversy with some opponent of his teachings, and al ways embroiled with his adversaries. At councils and diets and conventions he did yeo man's service for the great cause, and he was equally accessible to princes and to peasants, and was equally desired and sought after by them for counsel. He complains at one time that he is wast ing his time in acting as justice of the peace, 114 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. and has just been reckoning with a baker for his false weights. Now we see him at the council board of kings, discussing treaties, alliances and state policies ; now from his study directing the dis cussions of the diet or convention ; again, ; from the pulpit, quieting the tumult of a people, and still again, taking a long journey that he may settle a family dispute, and in that beneficent mission he died, in 1546, per haps from exposure. At another time he is busy translating ^Esop's fables for his Germans, and again it is hymns that he is composing for use in church worship or in the family circle, and in all this the accuracy and painstaking care of his work is as remarkable as the quantity of it. In the midst of his own family circle, with his sensible wife, whom he playfully called Doctress Luther, and his children, he was the gentlest of husbands, the kindest of fathers, and the merriest of playfellows. He kept open house for all comers, and the songs which he composed for his children to sing, and the talk that sparkled at his table, made his home the center of attraction and influ ence. For humor and wit he has never been excelled. Goethe's conversation, as reported by Eckermann, is not more brilliant; nor is GERMANY LUTHER. 1 15 the " Autocrat " of the " Breakfast Table " more humorous or witty. He was an ac complished musician, and so with the children he spent his time of relaxation in music, singing and frolic, and with his friends in witty talk. " Junker George," as he humor ously styles himself, in his doublet, with a sword at his side, writes to his friend Me lancthon directions as to the care of his " little body," and such letters as he wrote his own son, son seldom has received from father. The fine mingling of jest and earnest in Lu ther's letters is one of the rarest of charms. He puts up a practical joke upon a fastidi ous musical critic by passing off a composi tion, partly his own, as a performance in Augsburg, to celebrate the entrance of the Emperor and his brother. Martin Luther was a true son of the Ger man people. He had, besides their mental traits and moral qualities, their peculiarities of temper. In him a certain childlikeness of dis position was accompanied by a lion-hearted courage. Great cheerfulness of temper was united with a mystical and melancholy vein. He was gentle and tender, but passionate and defiant on occasion. The career of Martin Luther was the won derful career of a great soul. His boldness, Il6 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. his courage and his daring were equalled by his gentleness, his tenderness and his affec tion, and when no great principle was at stake, he was humble, meek and conciliatory alike to friends and foes. In mental processes, he was prompt and swift, brilliant and practical, with almost unerring judgment and sound common sense, but his intellectual genius, ex traordinary as it was, was equalled by his moral character and spiritual grandeur. In him were mingled all the elements of man in huge proportions. Indeed, he was a human colossus, gifted with the tongue and voice of a Jupiter tonans, and above all he was a man of unlimited and invincible faith. He stands out upon the pages of history as in comparably its most sublime character since Christ and Paul. He was a man destined to set up a new doctrine and reform the world, as his superior said of him long before there were any signs of its coming. He had a voice of thunder and a pen of fire. And in all this he was a true son of his own people, a German of the Germans. Of inde pendent spirit, inquiring mind, loving liberty and truth, they had kept alive the spirit of freedom when it was not to be found else where. Of a critical, speculative habit of mind, they were also logical and thorough in GERMANY — LUTHER. 1 1 7 their mental processes. With a tendency to mysticism and ascetic views of life, they have also a strong, practical faculty and great cheerfulness of temper. There is childlike guilelessness about them, together with a de fiant and passionate spirit and an inflexible will. They are sound in body, in mind and in spirit. Such a man among such a people was bound to move the world. Germany is the most prosperous and enlightened country on the Continent to-day, because of Luther's work. LECTURE IV. THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN ITALY SAVONAROLA. The course of thought which we are pur suing in these lectures brings us to-night to consider the Reformation in Italy. In no other country, except Spain, did it have so little effect or produce such transient results. Our attention would scarcely be attracted in that direction in pursuing the subject of re ligious liberty were it not for the life and work of a single person, who stands conspicuous among the reformers of the world for the sin gular beauty of his character, the remarkable powers of his genius, and the startling effects of his eloquence — Fra Girolamo Savonarola, a Dominican monk, Prior of San Marco in Florence, who lived between the years 1452- 98. Apart from this remarkable man, whose name it is scarcely possible to pronounce even at this late day without a feeling of wonder and of awe, the only marked effect of the Ref ormation movement in Italy was the develop- ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 1 9 ment of the most effective forces that were set at work against it. These were the Inquisi tion and the Order of Jesuits, or Society of Jesus, founded by Ignatius Loyola, a Spaniard, for the sake of extending the power and au thority of Rome. That society espoused the doctrine that the end justifies the means, and by their casuistry so confused the distinction between right and wrong that in their hands a question of morals became a question of ex pediency. Such was the effect of their im moral philosophy upon their characters, that they adopted courses of conduct offensive to the moral sense of Christendom. They be came obnoxious even to the Church to which they had rendered most signal service, and in whose defense they were organized. The order was suppressed in the eighteenth cen tury, but it has since been revived. Let us look a little into the condition of re ligious affairs in Italy previous to the appear ance of Savonarola. The downfall of the Hohenstaufens in the middle of the thirteenth century liberated Italy from the control of the German emper ors. The cities regained their independence and prosperity, letters were cultivated, the arts flourished, commerce rapidly increased, trade expanded, schools, academies and univer- 120 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. sities sprang up, and learning was eagerly sought, so that when, in 1453, the Turks took Constantinople, Italy furnised the most in viting and profitable field for the scholars and artists who had inherited and treasured the Greek learning and art, but who were forced to flee before the barbarous Turk. The Greek learning and literature, as well as the Greek art and the Greek spirit, had long before perished in Europe. The division of the East and the West had left Constantino ple the undisputed queen of the East and the great treasury of Greek antiquities. With the fall of the Empire, and the invasion of the barbarians, culture, learning and art had largely disappeared from Europe. What re mained was cherished in secret or hidden away in the cloister of some secluded convent, where the art of using it was lost. In Italy, freedom from foreign oppression left her people free to develop their native talents. Fra Angelico began to paint ; poetry revived with Dante ; science began to be culti vated. Guizot tells us that at this time Italy " gave herself up to all the pleasures of an indolent, elegant, licentious civilization; to a taste for letters, the arts and social and physical en joyments." He goes on to compare Italy ITALY SAVONAROLA. 121 of that day with France in the eighteenth cen tury, just before the revolution, and says: " There was the same desire for the progress of intelligence, and for the acquirement of new ideas ; the same taste for an agreeable and easy life, the same luxury, the same licen tiousness ; there was the same want of politi cal energy and of moral principles, combined with singular sincerity and activity of mind." It was during that time that Machiavelli wrote his famous treatise known as the " Prince " — a work which gave its author's name to the world as a new word representa tive of the most flagitious immorality openly avowed and even advocated. In that notori ous work he laid down the principle afterward assumed as the keystone of the Jesuit's arch of casuistry, that "the end justifies the means," that treachery and dissimulation are a merit when skillfuly practiced. It set at defiance all the principles of Christian ethics, and ad vocated actions so flagrant and degrading as to be unworthy the name even of pagan ; and yet he was the friend and favorite of two popes and of Lorenzo de Medici. The fatal defect of character which under mined the pagan civilizations of the past had come, with their philosophy and moral and religious teachings, into Italy, as it afterwards 12 2 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. showed itself in France, and was the certain precursor, as it was also the fatal cause, of her disintegration, decay and long-time bondage. Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio had seen and warned Italy of her danger. Dante had faithfully withstood the childish pretensions and unseemly luxury of the papacy, and had suffered exile and persecution in consequence. He bewailed the corruption of the papal court and the assumptions of temporal power by the popes. In his work on Monarchy, he advo cated the separation of the Church and the State, and the Ghibelline doctrine of the inde pendence of each. To its greed of temporal power, Dante refers the evils and abuses which have arisen within the Church. The protests of the poets and prose writers were illustrated and emphasized for the com mon people by the painters. Fra Angelico and Fra Bartolommeo, in their paintings of the judgment, place popes, cardinals and bishops, in full canonicals, in the lowest re gions of eternal torment, or on their way thither, in the midst of the vilest sinners and among the meanest of mankind. Michael An gelo, also, in his painting of the judgment in the Sistine Chapel, the principal place of wor ship in the Vatican itself, did not hesitate to pillory the highest of ecclesiastical dignitaries ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 23 in the midst of the worst torments and in such living likeness that they recognized their own faces. It is said of one of them that he complained to the pope that the great masters had placed him in the region of eternal torment, and the pope replied, " If he had placed you in purgatory, I might be able to do something for you; but since he has placed you in hell, I have no juris diction there." And there the great cardinal remains to this day. The ideal works of the great masters who now appeared in Italy had much to do with awakening the spiritual natures of men and quickening the moral sense. Such beatific visions as Fra Angelico and Raphael threw upon their canvases, and such mighty reve lations of spiritual genius as Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo gave in their great works, were not without their effect on a peo ple the most sensitive and responsive in Eu rope to the effects of artistic beauty. The sweet dignity and noble grace of Raphael, and the colossal power of the Jove-like Angelo, deeply impressed and strongly moved the people. The immediate effect of the revival of learn ing in Italy was to awaken an inquiring spirit and create a critical method. Under the in- I24 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. fluence of Dante, Petrarch and Brescia, a cer tain intellectual awakening had already taken place. Men had been shaken out of their long time intellectual lethargy; but the activity which it created was mostly in the direction of poetry and romance. Works of the imagina tion and the fancy were chiefly the result, and it was not until the Greek scholars of Con stantinople, with their invaluable manuscripts, invaded Italy that the spirit of inquiry and of criticism awoke. History and science began to be cultivated. The result of historical in vestigations was to undermine the credit of the great ecclesiastical system, which had based its stupendous claims upon reputed his torical events. Laurentius Valla exposed the fiction of the so-called Donation of Constan tine, which Dante had previously said Con stantine had no right to make. Other studies revealed the identity beneath Christian names of many of the ecclesiastical customs and practices with the ancient superstitions and paganisms, which the Church of Rome so fiercely denounced as of the devil. The study of the Scriptures in the Hebrew and Greek tongues, which now became pos sible, familiarized students with the original sources of the Christian religion and revealed the yawning chasm between the apostolic ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 125 simplicity of the Early Church and the gor geous pomp and splendor of the papacy. All of these influences combined to create a spirit of unrest and discontent among the better classes of Italians. The leading men and some illustrious women began to assem ble for worship and prayer in the simple faith and forms of the New Testament. At Ven ice, Pisa, Genoa, Milan, Modena, Padua, Ferrara, Florence, Rome and Naples, some among the princes and higher ecclesiastics united in a kind of evangelical party. At Rome, fifty or sixty such persons, among whom were four or five who afterwards be came cardinals, and one of them a pope, Paul IV., formed what was known as the " Oratory of the Divine Love." They held for the most part to the Protestant doctrine of justifica tion, and were urgent in their demands for the purification of the Church. They gained many converts among the common people and the middle classes, and, on one occasion, addressed a memorial to the pope, in which they likened the state of the Church to " a pestiferous malady," and recommended meas ures of reform. The reigning pope, Paul III., was friendly to the evangelical party and made its leaders cardinals. It is probably due to him that such 126 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. slight reforms as took place within the Italian Church were secured, for his successor re scinded his own acts as a leader of the evan gelical party, and was as strenuous and in flexible as Alexander Borgia himself for the ancient regime. By the efforts of this party a meeting was had between the representatives of the Protestant reformers in the North and the representatives of the pope at Ratisbon, in 1541, with the design of bringing about a better understanding between the Protestants and the Romanists and of uniting them again in one church organization. They were able to agree on the nature of man, original sin, redemption and justification; but on the two points of the primacy of the pope and the doc trine of the Eucharist they could not agree, and hence the union could not be made. That conference revealed, as perhaps noth ing else during the Reformation controversy did, how impassable was the gulf that yawned between the Protestant reforms and the Catholic Church. It resulted in a strong reaction in Italy against Protestantism and a revival of zeal in the Italian Church, and the development of the two forces already men tioned — the Jesuits and the Inquisition — which were to prove in its hands the might- ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 127 iest agent and the most terrible instrument for the check of Protestantism and the re- establishment of Romanism in Europe. Two things are essential to the success of any great cause : one is a person large enough to embody the principles of the cause, power ful enough to command a hearing for it, in stinct with a contagious enthusiasm, and ir resistible in the impact of his own personality upon others, a kind of prophet to mankind. That is one essential. The other is a people prepared to receive the message of the prophet, to respond to his call, and to act upon the convictions he imparts to them. Given the prophet without the people, and you have a voice crying in the wilderness ;• given the people without the prophet, and you have the blind groping in darkness and falling into the ditch. Italy had the first, but not the second, of these two requisites in the struggle for re ligious liberty in the person of Savonarola, a veritable John the Baptist, who appeared in Italy in the fifteenth century, thirty years before Luther appeared in Germany. His was the spirit of a true Hebrew prophet. The clearness of his vision, the singleness of his purpose, the intensity and fervor of his na ture; his austere morality and lofty spiritual 128 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. attainments make him conspicuous among the great and the good of mankind. But the people to whom he preached were not pre pared to receive his message. They heard him gladly and in vast throngs. They were swept by his impassioned eloquence, as a for est is swayed by a tempest, and bowed and wept at his appeals. For a time they were even compelled to go with him and obey his voice against their will, so persuasive and overwhelming was his personality. They purged their vile city of its vices and its crimes, its traitors and its despots, so that from being the most profligate city in Italy Florence became a model of virtue. But the haste with which the people returned to their iniquities when his voice was silenced goes to show how unprepared they were for the truth which he proclaimed and how shallow their hearts were towards it. Had Savon arola wrought in England or in Germany, the results of his work would probably have been different. As it was, he was a voice crying in the wilderness. The peculiar character of the Italian people is responsible for the failure of Savonarola's efforts. A stranger is liable to err here and should be careful how he speaks; but, judged from their history, they seem to be a versa- ITALY SAVON AR0LA. 1 2 9 tile, partisan people, esthetic and artistic, emotional and volatile, fond of show and pleasure, richly endowed in many fine senti ments, but lacking in the finest sensibilities and somewhat deficient in moral sense — a certain immaturity of mind and character. They have the childish virtues of quickness, buoyancy and hopefulness, and the childish vices of fickleness, capriciousness and wilful ness. They love the forms of freedom rather than the fact. The veriest despot might ca jole them out of their liberties and lull them into insensibility of their slavery by a display of magnificence. A splendid tyranny was far more welcome to them than a quiet, orderly and prosperous republic. Their best friends might not seriously offend their esthetic sense or trifle with their love of pleasure. They lack the critical faculty and a close, stern, logical power which is indispensable to mental stability and integrity and civic free dom. For this reason they rejected men like Rienzi, Dante, Arnold of Brescia, and Savon arola — pure patriots and lovers of Italy, and allied themselves with men like the Medici and the Borgia, moral monsters and political despots. During the long struggle between the Em- 130 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. pire and the Papacy, the Guelphs and the Ghi- bellines, the cities of Northern Italy had man aged, for the most part, to maintain their freedom, so that when the Empire fell, in the middle of the thirteenth century, a period of unexampled prosperity set in, and the chief cities rose to great magnificence. For a period of four hundred years the history of Italian cities, of which Genoa, Venice and Florence are chief, read like a romance. They are comparable only with the three ancient cities of Athens, Rome and Carthage. But the heroic virtues and unquenchable love of liberty with which these cities fought their early battles for freedom had in the fifteenth century given place to a supine and craven acquiescence in the supremacy which rich and powerful citizens had acquired in the State. Of these cities, Florence is to us the most important. The events that transpired within her walls during two centuries have made her conspicuous in history, as they made her the wonder and admiration of her time. The men whom she produced, both for good and for evil, stand among the greatest in history. Dante, Savonarola, Michael Angelo, to say nothing of Raphael, Giotto, Ghiberti, Bru- nelleschi and Galileo, form in themselves a ITALY SAVONAROLA. 131 brilliant constellation. But Florence also produced men of a very different type. Under the fostering influence of her free institu tions, the humble and obscure often grew rich and powerful by diligence and intelligent enterprise, and not seldom they used their wealth and power to undermine the freedom which had enabled them to acquire it. Among these the family of the Medici is notorious for the manner in which it subverted the lib erties of Florence and usurped the supreme authority. It is also remarkable for the num ber of brilliant intellects and moral monsters it produced in the course of three centuries. Of these, Lorenzo was, perhaps, in both re spects, the most remarkable, and he was in control of Florence when Savonarola arrived there at the Convent of San Marco, in 1490. He was a cultivated, refined scholar, phi losopher and artist; and at the same time an abandoned libertine and heartless tyrant. He was a man of versatile gifts and great accom plishments, and shone with equal brilliancy in an assembly of philosophers discussing the Platonic idea of virtue, in a society of artists criticising the productions of genius in paint ing and sculpture, in a company of poets dis puting about literature or reading their own verses, and in the garden of San Marco dis- 132 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. cussing theology and religion. He was sur- named " The Magnificent," and justly so, for no man was ever more munificent in his pat ronage of letters, arts, sciences and religion than he. In his own library was trained the youth who afterwards laid the foundations of the great Vatican library, now one of the priceless collections of the world. He com posed verses to be sung at religious services, and others to be sung at the Carnival, the most abandoned revel of drunken orgies im aginable. He was, in fact, the man of his age, and embodies on a large scale its virtues and its vices. With his affable, cultivated, polished manner and peerless magnificence, he cajoled the people and narcotized them into a state of civic comatoseness, so that he was able to rob them of the few rights and liberties his grandfather had not absorbed. He maintained the forms of liberty under which the city had prospered and grown rich, and his own family had risen to power, but destroyed the power which had made them beneficent. The constitution of the city was perverted by securing the election of his own creatures to office, and so centering all power in himself. He thus came to be absolute, and he maintained his absoluteness by a series of bloody reprisals upon his enemies and by a ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 133 system of spies who ferreted out and brought to summary punishment all opposition. The resources of the city were soon turned into his own treasury, and he was complete master of the city and its treasure. He did not scru ple to rifle trust funds for purposes of his ambition or pleasure, and on one occasion he diverted a fund of 100,000 florins, established for the purpose of providing orphan girls with marriage dowry, according to the custom of the time in Italy, in consequence of which scores of young girls were deprived of hon orable marriage and thrown upon the streets. That was the kind of man who was in pos session of Florence when Savonarola arrived there in 1490. And yet it is a tribute to some thing in Lorenzo betraying a certain great ness of mind that he not only permitted the friar to preach without molestation, but that on his deathbed he sent for him to render him the last rites of the Church. Savonarola was a man of equal intellectual genius with Lorenzo, but a man of stain less life and exalted moral nature, keenly alive to the vices of his age and painfully sen sitive of them. At the age of twenty-three he entered the Dominican convent at Bo logna, driven thither by an unbearable sense of the wickedness of the world and an irre sistible impulse to escape from it. 134 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. He had always been noted for a reserved, modest disposition and studious habits, and for what was in those days a singular purity and exaltation of life. At the age of twenty he wrote a poem on " The Ruin of the World," in which he describes the condition of the world at the time. He says that virtue has everywhere perished and that decent cus toms have ceased to be observed. The shame less vice and hideous crimes he was obliged to witness inflicted upon him the greatest suf fering, and he prayed to be " taken out of the mire," as he says. He was destined for the medical profession, in which his ances tors had long been eminent, and he struggled hard to meet the wishes of his parents by preparing himself for that profession ; but the conviction grew upon him that he had a mis sion in the world which could only be ful filled by his becoming a monk. He was at that time very fond of Plato, and displayed great metaphysical acumen and power in preparing himself for that profession; but he had also learned to love Thomas Aquinas, and it was not long after he entered the con vent that we find him becoming absorbed in the Scriptures. Soon they have become his chief book, and it was said of him that he had committed to memory the whole of the Old and New Testaments. ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 135 Savonarola first came into public notice as a man of mark at a convention of the brethren in Lombardy, where he startled and amazed the assembly by the boldness of his speech against the prevailing wickedness, and the intensity of his manner. He arraigned the Church for her profligacy, called upon her to repent, and threatened her with the direst ca lamities if she did not. " Time was," said he, " when the Church had wooden chalices and golden prelates; but now she has golden chalices and wooden prelates. Repent you, wash you, make you clean, lest a worse evil befall you." The moral aspect of the world assumed the place of first importance in his thoughts and subordinated all other interests. Trained in his youth for the medical profession, he had manifested great aptitude for the study of philosophy and science and had exhibited a strongly speculative habit of mind. So well furnished was he in these particulars that one of his accusers at his trial urged that so great a genius in science ought not to be put to death, but kept in- prison, that the world might profit by his labors. But all these in terests were swallowed up for him in the interest which he now acquired in the Scrip tures and in human life, and in Florence that 136 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. interest was so intensified that it grew into a consuming passion. He was never at vari ance with the Roman Catholic Church in mat ters of doctrine, but attacked it solely on the grounds of moral character. In order to understand this man we should study his face. Fortunately, we have it painted by a great master from life. Barto- lommeo's portraits of Savonarola present al together a most remarkable face. His fea tures are as clear cut and sharply defined as the most carefully cut cameo, but as bold and massive as a face in the mountainous rock — altogether the most remarkable face I ever looked upon, a sort of combination of the eagle and the lion. The craggy brow and the crater-like depths of the great eyes, the mas sive but shapely nose and chin, and the sweet, large but fine, melancholy, firm but flexible, strong but beautiful mouth, together with the rugged, mobile countenance, all bespeak the mighty, intrepid, fiery, impetuous soul that wrought in building such a structure of bone and sinew. There is no superfluous flesh, no weak or deficient line, no excessive growth, but a harmony and symmetry of rugged, craggy strength, lit up with gleams of tender ness and gentleness, as of a mountainside touched by passing gleams of sunlight. It ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 37 is a perfectly ideal face for massive grandeur — unimaginable, indescribable — surpassing anything I have ever seen in the form of a face — one of the rare products of life which she never repeats and never imitates; it is perfectly unique and without a class. As one looks upon the portrait, he readily under stands the stories of the monks about its shin ing for hours in the darkness of the church where he was accustomed to sit long after service in rapt meditation. The soul of the Hebrew prophets was in this man. His chief characteristics were great, good common sense, amounting to genius, moral earnestness and spiritual fer vor. He was not a poet or theologian, as Lu ther was, nor a scholar and thinker, like Wyc lif; but in moral and spiritual genius he equalled, if he did not surpass, them both. He had in a remarkable degree the faculty of prevision which enabled him to predict with surprising exactness events which actually came to pass. He predicted, among other things, the death of Lorenzo, the invasion of Italy by Charles VIII., and his own death by burning at the hands of the pope. That rare and, as it seemed to the people of his day, supernatural power, together with the austerity of his life, his strange power 138 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. over the spirits of men, his bold defiance of the Medici and the pope, and his burning elo quence, have surrounded his memory with a strange, weird atmosphere, as of some wild fanatic, blazing and thundering, blindly and aimlessly, at he knows not what. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Savonarola had a burning zeal for right eousness and a soul-consuming hunger for truth; but he was not of a speculative or im aginative turn of mind. Doctrine as such did not attract him, and he had no taste for the orizing. Summoned to a council of his order, in which the great doctors of theology dis cuss the deep questions of theology, he has nothing to say, but sits apart brooding until the questions of discipline and the moral con dition of the Church come up. That brings him to his feet, and his fiery, fulgurous soul leaps to his eyes and lips and there burns and flames until it astounds and confounds the easy-going, luxurious prelates. With a burn ing eloquence he scathes and scorches the profligate and plundering magnates of the Church, by whom he is surrounded, and ex horts them to repentance and cleansing of life. He explicitly threatens them with divine punishment, if they do not speedily turn from their evil ways. ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 39 It was inevitable that a man like that should come into sharp conflict with the pow ers that ruled. The profligate Lorenzo at Florence, and the flagitious Alexander VI. at Rome, were not likely to win his ap probation or to relish his rebukes. His fiery spirit and uncompromising nature could not quietly submit to abuses that were ruining the Church and the State. His sermons made such an impression upon the people that the cathedral could not hold his audience, but it overflowed even there and filled the surrounding space whenever he preached. His favorite themes were the vices of the age and their consequences ; the wickedness of the priests, whom he held re sponsible for them, and the profligacy of the tyrant, whose arts and wiles he condemned. From these themes neither threats nor prom ises would turn him aside. Lorenzo was cunning and crafty and tried to conciliate this terrible being, who alone among men dared to call him to account. " Go, tell your master," replied the intrepid monk to his friendly messengers, " to pre pare to repent of his sins ; for the Lord spares no one, and has no fear of the princes of the earth." A fire burned within him, as he ex pressed it, and would not let him keep si- 140 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. lent or modify his utterance, and his words were like molten lava, and burned their way into the hearts of the people. But Lo renzo was enough of a man to honor him whom he could neither intimidate nor mollify, and on his deathbed he sent for the prior of San Marco to administer to him the last rites of his church. The monk laid down three conditions: i. Repentance from his sins and a lively faith in God. To this " The Magnificent " immediately assents. 2. The restoration of all ill-gotten gain, either by himself or by enjoining it upon his sons. There is reluctance here, but the haughty spirit of the tyrant yields. 3. The restoration to Florence of her ancient rights and liber ties. The tyrant groans and turns his back upon the friar. The inflexible monk draws his cowl over his face and leaves the palace, and Lorenzo the Magnificent dies uncon- fessed. The year after Savonarola began to preach in Florence the infamous Rodrigo Borgia se cured the papal throne by bribery. He was a man of undoubted ability, but of most scan dalous life. No pope has ever more thor oughly disgraced the chair of St. Peter. His ambition was to amass wealth and secure thrones for his children. For this purpose he ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 141 sold the offices of the Church and used all the rites and prerogatives of the papacy for the purpose of securing revenue. One of Boc caccio's stories is applicable to this time.* It was not to be expected that Savonarola would suffer such abuses as these to go un- rebuked, nor that a man like the pope would long endure his rebukes with patience. At first he treated him with contempt, then he tried to conciliate him with flattery, then he endeavored to bribe him with the offer of dignities; but the wise monk knew too well the motives that animated the potentate to be caught with any of his wiles. He declined to go to Rome and refused the offer of a car dinal's hat with the words, " Tell your master that the only hat I shall ever receive from him * He tells of a Jew who lived in Paris and had a Christian friend anxious for his conversion. The Jew finally announced his intention to go to Rome and see the Christian religion at its headquarters. That dismayed the Christian, for he well knew the riot and dissipation he would find at Rome and, most of all, with the pope and cardinals. In due time the Jew returned to Paris a Christian, and ex plained his conversion by saying that what he saw at Rome had convinced him that the Christian religion must have a supernatural origin and a divine sup port, else it would have been driven out of the world by the profligacy and folly of its guardians. 142 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. will be the red hat of flames." Alexander then set himself at open war with the friar and determined upon his destruction. Savonarola was at that time by far the most eloquent, powerful, influential and famous preacher in Christendom, as for ten years, from 1488 to 1498, he was the foremost man of all Italy. His influence at that time was felt strongly at the universities in England, and students who returned to be lecturers and professors at Oxford and Cambridge brought back something of the fire they had lighted at his torch. He used his power wisely and well. He taught the people the Scriptures, a pure morality and a high spirituality. He admon ished the wicked and encouraged the weak. He called all men to repentance and preached to them the Christ of the Gospels. He spared none, and he had no respect for persons. He treated prince and peasant alike, and knew no fear for emperor or pope, but for God only. Indeed, for a time he ruled Florence as no monarch ever ruled a State. The people daily thronged the cathedral and crowded the surrounding space, and were swept and fired by the mighty tides of passion which rose from his soul as streams from a burning volcano, and poured forth from his lips like fiery tor rents burning their way into every heart. ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 143 Like another Paul, " he reasoned with them of truth and righteousness and a judgment to come." He dealt with the common sins of the day, the vices, the crimes, the iniqui ties, the abuses of every class of society, the dishonesty of the merchants, the untruthful ness of the professional classes, the gambling and drunkenness and licentiousness of all ; and he did it with a swift, trenchant, pungent earnestness which sent his flaming words to the hearts of all, like arrows tipped with fire, there to lodge and kindle a kindred flame. The people bowed themselves and wept at his accusations and appeals and went forth hum ble and penitent, to lay aside the sins which had caused their ruin. Gambling disappeared and drunkenness ceased, and for three years Florence, from being the most profligate city in Europe, became the most orderly and righteous. It was during that time as near perhaps as any city ever was to being a Puri tan city. But a city that had been enslaved to men and demons for a century was not to be re stored by a single revolution, nor in a night. This remarkable man had the gift of vision and of prediction. He early came to a sense of a mission in the world, which grew upon him until he began to expect some particular 144 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. message of the work he was to do; and in 1484 the message came. The heavens seemed to open before him and a voice commanded him to proclaim three things: (1) that the Church should be scourged for its wicked ness; (2) that it should be renovated, and (3) that this should come to pass soon. Other visions followed this, and soon he began to predict, with remarkable accuracy, coming events. While he was yet but a lecturer, as he stood in the pulpit lecturing one Saturday, he hesitated, reflected and finally announced that to-morrow he would begin to preach and would continue to preach eight years; and that actually occurred. On one occasion, when Lorenzo sent a friend to talk with him about his attacks upon the tyrant, with a sug gestion of danger, the strange monk divined the inspiration of the messenger, and said, " Go, tell Lorenzo that not I, but he, shall leave Florence, and that very soon." Within a few months " The Magnificent " was dead. So, also, he predicted the speedy death of the pope, which soon followed; and three years before it happened, when there was absolutely no prospect of it, he had foretold the coming of the French into Italy. So, also, he pre dicted his own death. ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 45 These and other prophecies which actually were fulfilled in a brief space, with remark able accuracy, caused him to be regarded with a reverence amounting to awe, as of one pos sessed with superhuman powers. The charge has sometimes been made against Savonarola that he was a visionary and blind fanatic. While it is true that he had visions and made predictions, it is also true that his visions were of the nature of revelations of the true inwardness of things, and his predictions actually were fulfilled. His sermons, in the light of subsequent history, read like inspired prophecies, and his conduct in the midst of the gravest dangers shows him to have been a man of the most solid judg ment and the most capacious understanding — the most colossal man of his time. When the French invaded Italy, as he had predicted, Piero de Medici, who was then in control, basely betrayed Florence into their hands. The people determined not to submit to such a disgrace, and they turned to Savon arola for advice. He called them together in the cathedral and counseled an embassy to the French king, and after all efforts to se cure favorable terms for the city had failed, he took his way to the French camp, admonished the king of his duties, warned him to have a I46 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. care of his actions, and threatened the direst penalties if he abused his power. The obdu rate and unscrupulous despot, who would hearken to neither the voice of conscience nor of humanity, who neither feared God nor re garded man, quailed before the mighty spirit of the monk and swore friendship to the city ; and when he seemed in danger of forgetting his oaths, the indomitable monk sought him out again, reminded him of his pledges, and ordered him to leave the city. Charles put himself at the head of his victorious army and marched away. In this marvelous magic of his spirit Savon arola closely resembles Bernard of Clairvaux; and whether any one else has equaled these two in that respect, I am doubtful. The effect of Demosthenes' Philippics I do not think equal to the effect of Savonarola's sermons, by which he held Florence against the com bined powers of the world in Church and State for four years. The events of the invasion left the city panic-stricken and its chief men paralyzed. In the midst of the confusion and despair the great Dominican alone was calm, self-pos sessed, equal to the emergency. The Medici did not dare to show their faces, and when they were gone the ruling spirit was seen to ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 1 47 be the prior of San Marco. In their extremity the people turned to him. He outlined a con stitution for them, and the successive steps in the development of the new government can be traced in his sermons during four years. He was the mind, the conscience, and the will of Florence. So long as he could occupy his pulpit there was no question of his supremacy in Florence. Enemies and friends alike bowed to the subtle, irresistible magic of his eloquence. (It is said that a letter of admonition which he addressed to the wicked pope, who was already com mitted to the monk's destruction, caused that shameless potentate to pause for a time and reflect on his career. It was the only thing that ever did.) He could hold Florence against any foe as long as he had his pulpit ; but, weakened at length by the long struggle and by his vigils and fastings, and forbidden by the pope to preach, he was glad to relax his labors for a time. Then his enemies began to work. The plague fell upon the city to help them, and injudicious friends and parti sans played into the hands of his enemies. No man knew better than the preacher the danger of his position. The prelates and aris tocrats were a unit against him. The pope and the emperqr were agreed in the necessity 148 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. for his overthrow. Among the people them selves many had been deprived of their in comes by the suppression of vice, and many more chafed uneasily under the unaccus tomed and unwelcome restraint the new regime had forced upon them, and sighed for the former days. Every vile thing within the city that had been suppressed or restrained chafed and fumed in its bondage and clam ored for release. Paid emissaries from the Medici and the pope went about at the elec tions seeking plans in the council that they might betray the prior, whom they could not otherwise reach, and overthrow the republic, which was impossible while he occupied the pulpit in the cathedral. All this the wonderful man knew and de clared. He saw the darkness thicken about his path, the plots multiply, and the con spiracies coming to completion. The end was approaching, dark and terrible, but he held steadily on his way. In spite of his visions Savonarola was not a visionary; no mental hallucinations afflicted him — he was a mystic but not a maniac. They wanted him to be king, but he refused all public office, and set up over his pulpit the in scription, " Jesus Christ is King of Florence." Unable longer to endure his rebukes, the ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 149 pope decided, in 1497, to silence the irre pressible monk in the only possible way. He had disregarded his briefs, spurned his offers of dignities, and ignored the sentence of ex communication. Peremptory orders for his arrest were now forwarded to Florence, where the government had come into the hands of his enemies. His sentence was also prepared at Rome and sent by special envoys. Humane sentiment compels us to draw a veil over the inhuman cruelty with which he was tortured in the name of a trial. I have never been able to read that account a second time. It was a shocking and terrible end; the rack for days, so that every bone in his body was crushed, every joint dislocated, and his flesh torn until the mutilated muscles could scarce hold the broken body together. Delirious with pain, he raved wildly, and his enemies make much of it, but he declined till the last to write his recantation with his right hand, which alone of his members had been kept unmaimed for that purpose. When it was seen that his tortured body could no longer endure, he was haled to the stake and suspended by the neck, yet so as not to strangle, and a slow fire kindled be neath him. Thus ascended, in his chariot of fire, the mightiest spirit of the fifteenth cen tury. ISO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. It is sometimes said that Savonarola's work perished with him. He who thinks so does not understand the history of Florence or of Italy since his day. Some of the best features of the municipal government in Florence to day are the survivals of his constitution. The Medici were not permitted to return to Flor ence for some years after his death. Michael Angelo was a diligent student of his writings, and the evangelical party in Italy under the title of the " Oratory of the Divine Love," which numbered some of the most influen tial princes and cardinals among its mem bers, secured the calling of the Council of Trent, which, while it reaffirmed Catholic doctrine and denounced Protestantism, in augurated measures of reform within the Church which did away with its worst abuses, and made it forever impossible for a pope to buy his election or maintain a profligate and scandalous court. Savonarola's influence upon the people also was not without results. No memory is more green in Italy than his, and every year, on the anniversary of his death, floral offerings are heaped profusely about the doors of the cathedral. His teachings and his hopes sur vived and came to their fruit in men like Maz- zini and Garibaldi. It is true that he founded ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 151 no school, established no church, and that no institution or society bears his name; but he left his works and the example of his life and death for liberty, and these have proved a deathless flame in the hearts of many. I doubt whether united Italy could have been accomplished as it was without his work; or whether a state government in Italy, free from ecclesiastical control, could now be peacefully maintained in the face of determined oppo sition. Neither do we forget that Master Co- let carried something of his influence to Eng land and imparted it to the attendants at his lectures there. Three great names adorn Italian history, as they also still continue to inspire her march — Dante, Savonarola and Michael Angelo. The mighty spirits of these three pure patriots have survived their own day and work and have informed and heartened the best of Ital ians to this day. The truths they set forth have been the principles on which Italy's best minds have worked, and the measure in which they wrought and suffered for those truths has kept the fires of patriotism and self-sac rifice alive in thousands of hearts. The un sullied purity of their lives has served as a salt to the noblest of its subsequent heroes; and of these three no memory is more green in 152 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Italy or name more cherished than the name and memory of Savonarola. We may even say that there is no name in Christendom to day, apart from Him whose name is above every name, that commands a more instant and spontaneous response — none, not even among our own beloved heroes, that exerts a greater charm upon the imagination, or throws a stronger, more alluring spell over the spirits of men. The lives of such men are never lost; their work is never ended, their influence never dies. They are allied with the eternal forces which work perpetual progress, and though the stream of time bears them away, it gathers up and carries forward their work, as the sea holds the waters of the streams that empty into it. The dream of these three men and the am bition of their lives were to see Italy freed from the control of the Church in all tem poral affairs and united into one kingdom. That dream, so impossible then, is an accom plished fact to-day, and the spirit of the great three burned in the hearts of the men who brought it to pass. The good that men do lives after them. History is wax to receive and marble to retain the impression of a great soul. Secret and subtle forces are silently but irresistibly at ITALY — SAVONAROLA. 153 work diffusing the influence of such a man and transmitting it to successive generations. Those long dead and forgotten live again in lives made better by their presence. For men like the great Dominican live " In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude; in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues." LECTURE V. THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY IN HOL LAND THE TRAGEDY OF THE REFORMA TION WILLIAM THE SILENT. The two great arenas of the Reformation were, as we have seen, England and Germany. In both of these countries the battle for re ligious freedom was fought on a vast field and with tremendous forces. The splendor of these conflicts is likely to blind our eyes to others that were being waged at the same time and for the same purpose, though on more contracted theatres and with less bril liant results, but not with less heroism or less disregard of temporal considerations. The Reformation in Switzerland, under the leadership of the great-souled and enlightened Ulrich Zwingli, stands among the noblest ef forts of nations to free themselves from po litical and ecclesiastical bondage. In France, the Protestants, under the lead ership of the great Coligny, grew to consid erable proportions among all classes of the people, in spite of systematic and bitter perse- HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 155 cution; and even the atrocious crime of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, and the policy of extermination which followed, were not able to stamp them out. Norway, Sweden and Denmark became Protestant, and Prot estants secured religious toleration among the Slavonic peoples, and in Bohemia and Hungary. One of the remarkable features of the great religious movement known as the Reforma tion is the number and variety of great men that it called forth. A perfect galaxy of lumi nous names spans those three centuries, as the milky way " rends the azure robe of night." Among them are many that pierce the night like stars of the first magnitude: scholars, orators, statesmen, soldiers, poets and artists; men of thought and men of ac tion, who for capacity and power rank with the greatest in history and are surpassed by none, either in exalted genius or excellence of character. It may be said that the greatest minds of three centuries, beginning with John Wyclif and ending with William III. of England, were enlisted in the great Protestant movement, and that the movement itself crys tallized in them and rallied upon them. It was, of course, a movement of principles in the sphere of religion — a religious move- 156 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ment, as we say — the religious truths of the time coming to their birth and working them selves clear. But they had their birth in in dividuals, and the personal qualities and plas tic agencies of individuals capable of creating and sustaining in others the vital quickening of the powers of the world to come, of which they themselves had first been the subjects, must be taken into account in any adequate estimate of the movement itself. Men as in trepid, as dauntless, as self-sacrificing and heroic as they were large-minded and prophetic-spirited, were as conspicuous in the struggle as the truths and principles for which they contended were novel and commanding. In the sixteenth century two opposite prin ciples of life, two kinds of civilization and re ligion, diametrically opposed to each other, met and contended for the mastery. Feudal ism and ecclesiasticism, absolutism in the State and absolutism in the Church, were the order of the day. But democracy and individ ualism began to appear. The spirit of the modern time met and came in conflict with the spirit of mediaevalism. They could not coalesce; compromise was impossible. Each recognized in the other its implacable, deadly foe. They locked in the death grapple and poured out their blood without stint. There HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 157 could be no truce in that war; it was war to the death. Absolutism could give no quarter to democracy; ecclesiasticism to the freedom of conscience; mediaevalism to the right of private judgment. At the opposite poles of thought and civilization they acted like the opposite poles of electricity. When brought together, they struck fire and burned as long as the currents flowed. The fierceness and sanguinariness of the great struggle was due to that fact, and not alone to the fact that it was a religious revo lution. It was not until the religious principle of freedom and righteousness met the political and ecclesiastical principles of absolutism and conformity, which sought to hold down the truth with violence, that the spark was struck and the fire kindled. The first half of the sixteenth century was comparatively peaceful and bloodless. Men for a time fought their battles with the intel lectual weapons of debate and edicts; but as the controversy proceeded the real nature of the new doctrines began to appear, and with it the absolute impossibility of light and dark ness to maintain fellowship. Then men fell by the ears and blood began to flow like water. Two things are to be noted at the outset in connection with the Reformation in Eu- 158 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. rope in the sixteenth century. They are, first, the manner in which the movement organized itself about and rallied upon great persons, in its political aspects; second, the way in which it adapted itself to the mental traits •and moral qualities of the nations among whom it wrought. Just because it was a religious movement, its tendencies and consequences were not re stricted, but its influence extended to every domain of human life. It revolutionized not only religion, but education, literature, sci ence, art, philosophy, methods of thought and habits of life, governments, domestic and social life. And this it did largely through the charac ter and personality of the men who espoused its principles and guided its course. A surprising number of great men sprang up as leaders of Reformation forces. Where the leaders were early and effectually crushed, as in Italy, Austria and France, the cause it self languished and failed ; but when they were able to maintain themselves, as in the north of Europe and in England, the cause succeeded. The political aspect of the Reformation is everywhere prominent, because of the close and intimate connection of the Church of Rome with political affairs. It has always been HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 159 a political institution far more jealous of its temporal than its spiritual prerogatives, and therefore anxious to maintain uniformity in the Church, so as to secure unity among States. Disaffection in the one meant disrup tion in the other. So long as the spiritual su premacy of the Church could be maintained, there was no question as to its temporal domi nation. The Empire of the Middle Ages was but the right arm of ecclesiastical despotism. To question her spiritual claims was to aim at her domination of princes. Hence, wher ever the Reformation took any deep hold upon the people, it raised at once the political ques tion, and its success was always followed by political disruption. And when the move ment had run its course, there was no longer any excuse for the existence of even the fig ment of the Roman Empire. It died from want of breath, because its native air was ex hausted. Owing to the peculiar circumstances under which it culminated and was fought out, the Reformation in the Netherlands was more dis tinctively political than in any other country, and its great hero was a political and military rather than a theological leader. Indeed, it is one of the peculiarities of the Reformation in Holland that it developed no great theo- 160 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. logical or distinctively religious leader. It re quired the services of a statesman and a sol dier, and the man whom it found was so great in these realms and his achievements so marvelous that his fame has eclipsed that of all his associates, even as his single power and influence excelled them all at the time. William of Orange was one of the princes of the earth, but his work was done entirely at the council board and in the camp. He was neither a speaker nor a writer upon religious subjects. Apart from such references to these things in his State papers and letters as were inevitable (and which show what he might have done in religion and theology), he took no part in the theologic discussions of the time. The need of such a leader is to be explained chiefly by the condition of the country and the foe against whom he had to fight. Philip II. inherited from his father all his vast possessions, in 1555. They constituted the most splendid empire of modern times. As King of Spain he was master of the richest part of the New World, of Italy, of the Span ish Hapsburg interests in Austria and Ger many, of Burgundy and the Netherlands. The wealth, the military, and the naval powers of the world were his. He possessed the most HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 161 splendid navy the world had ever seen, and was master of the seas, while his armies were composed of trained and veteran troops, com manded by the most renowned generals of the age. Along with his magnificent possessions Philip also inherited his father's absolute pol icy and his imperious temper ; but none of his intellectual ability or genial manners. Philip II. was possessed by two ruling ideas. The first was to make himself absolute in Europe ; the second to re-establish the unity and uni versal supremacy of the Roman Church. Be sides these two ideas, the most skilful opera tion of intellectual surgery could not succeed in gaining entrance for any others into his mind. The tenacity with which he held these two resolves, and the reckless ferocity with which he pursued them, made him notorious in history as the immediate cause of the re volt of the Netherlands, and so the instigator of the darkest tragedy in the history of nations. He belonged to that large class of persons who can learn nothing by experience and for whom the severest calamities have no lessons. In personal appearance he was unprepos sessing. Below the average height, he had a corpulent body set upon very disproportion- 1 62 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ate legs. He had the projecting Burgundian under jaw, which descended as inevitably in that line as their hereditary titles and estates. He had also the dull, heavy Spanish eye, and the Hapsburg coarse, irregular features. His manners were cold and distant. He was ar rogant and gloomy. His chief pleasures were eating and drinking and sensual indulgence, in all of which he ran to excess. His appe tites and passions had absolute control of him. He was so inordinately fond of pastry and ate it in such quantities that he suffered for many years from constant pains in his stom ach in consequence. His mind was sluggish ; his will vacillating and uncertain, and his methods mechanical and arbitrary. Such a man and the Dutch people were to each other like the negative and positive poles of electricity. They could not come together without striking fire; it only needed that the pressure should be steady and prolonged in order to kindle a conflagration that would shock and stupefy the world. According to his most trustworthy biog rapher, the only time that Philip II. was ever heard to laugh aloud was when the massacre of St. Bartholomew was reported to him. By far the most flourishing and enlightened portion of Philip's vast domains was the HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 163 Netherlands. When the commercial and financial supremacy of the world had been driven from the cities of Northern Italy by political and ecclesiastical tyranny, it took up its abode in the Netherlands. Antwerp be came the cosmopolitan city of the world, and a score of other cities became famous for their wealth and industries. Factories dotted the land and invention flourished. The people of the North, what is now the kingdom of Holland, were of ancient Frisian blood, who alone among the German races had developed, besides local self-government, a democracy without a trace of royalty or no bility. They were a sturdy, thrifty, intelligent people, who had reclaimed their land from the sea and knew how to say to it, " Thus far shalt thou go and no farther; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed." Their long con flict with the elements had inured them to hardship and cultivated the qualities of enter prise and independence. They were also in telligent, had excellent schools, and the Bible had been translated into their vernacular in the early part of the fourteenth century. It is said by a contemporary historian that the fishermen discussed the Scriptures like men from the university. Their universities were at that time the best, and were always 164 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. thronged with students. Erasmus, the great est of the humanists, was a native of Rotter dam. The people of the southern provinces, now the kingdom of Belgium, were of a different origin and different mental and moral traits. Flemish; Walloon and French blood predom inated there and they used the French lan guage. Among the people of the North the ideas of the Reformation found early and free ac cess, secured general acceptance and enthusi astic support, and, aided by local self-govern ment, they took deep root in the minds of the people. The people of the southern provinces were less hospitable towards them, but they found many warm advocates and staunch sup porters even in Flanders, and in Brussels the first martyrs were burned as early as 1526. Severe edicts had been issued by Charles V. and the Inquisition established to prevent the progress of Lutherism in the Netherlands. The country had suffered severely in conse quence, but the new religious views and practices had continued to spread. Philip, however, was determined to stamp them out at any cost to himself or the Netherlands. In capable of devising any original or effective measures for such an undertaking, he was yet HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 65 possessed of the power to inflict unlimited injuries upon any foe against whom his wrath was kindled, but whom he did not possess the requisite sagacity to conquer. His whole reign was one long attempt to secure, by brute force, what nothing but the most far-seeing statesmanship and the most skilful diplomacy could have accomplished. It was therefore a series of humiliating defeats and irretrievable disasters. In the Netherlands he aroused a spirit of revolt which precipitated the tragedy of the Reformation and the ultimate ruin of Spain. There in the Netherlands his ponder ous brute force was pitted against a states manship of the highest order, a diplomacy of the most accomplished finesse, and a heroism and enthusiasm as exalted and devoted as it was pure and unselfish. No people, however, were ever more unprepared for a struggle in defense of their own liberties than were the Dutch people at that time. In the person of William of Orange they found a champion who was also a national representative, both in moral qualities and mental traits. Although born upon German soil and Duke of Nassau in Germany and Prince of Orange in France, he yet held vast possessions in the Netherlands, where his family had held high office for some genera- l66 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. tions, and he always considered himself as be longing to that country. Charles V. had made him Stadtholder of Holland and Zealand when he was but twenty-one years of age, and commander of the army of the Nether lands the following year, and when in that year Charles took leave of the Netherlands, after his abdication, it was upon the shoulder of the Prince of Orange that he leaned at the public ceremony. William at that time is described by Motley as a tall and handsome youth, with dark brown hair and eyes. His portraits show him to have had a lofty, spacious brow, regular features, with a look of wisdom and a mouth expressing great firmness. His face a little later was deeply marked with the lines of care and thought, and wistful anxiety filled the eyes. Later on a certain paternal kindness characterizes his look. The word " silent " was applied to him, not because he was re served or taciturn in manner, but because of the discretion and judgment which distin guished him. He was of athletic build, with great powers of endurance, fond of active sports, with a cheerful disposition, easy good humor, and polished, affable manners, which, together with his sprightly wit and extraor dinary abilities, made him the favorite of HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 167 every court in Europe. He was descended from an ancient family of sovereign rank, brought up at the imperial court, as the cus tom was for great nobles of the empire, and his superior talents and trustworthy char acter greatly endeared him to Charles V., who had a genius for discovering talent and estimating men. When William was but a youth Charles had recognized his promise and in his twentieth year had employed him in diplomatic missions of importance, and even of great difficulty and delicacy. It was William that the Em peror selected when he abdicated the empire to be the bearer of the imperial insignia to his brother, who was his successor in the im perial dignity. It was William who secured for Philip, after his first war, which was with Henry II. of France, a favorable treaty with that monarch, with whom he was an especial favorite, and he remained for a time at the court of France as a pledge of Philip's good faith in keeping the terms of the peace. One day, while hunting with the King in the forest of Fontainebleau, his royal host dis closed to the young prince a secret compact into which he and Philip had entered, for the extermination of heresy within their realms, a measure which involved the wholesale 1 68 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. slaughter of all their Protestant subjects. William was at that time a gay young prince, not deeply interested in religion. Like all the young nobles of his time, his only serious interest was in politics and military affairs, employments for which his talents and train ing eminently fitted him. But apart from these his chief pursuit was pleasure. Hunt ing and the banquet were his pastimes. He maintained upon his estates in Nassau and at his palace in Brussels a perfectly regal state, unequaled by any of the great nobles, and surpassed only by members of the imperial and royal households. He kept open house the year round. His great hall was always open, and relays of cooks furnished forth the richly laden tables. Motley is authority for the statement that cooks were trained in his kitchens for royal cuisines; and his stables and kennels were the envy of many a crowned head. In so far as he was religious at this time, he was a Romanist. His parents were Protes tant, but he had been brought up a Romanist at the court of Charles V., and might naturally be expected to sympathize with the policy of Protestant extermination unfolded to him by Henry II. But, pleasure-loving and luxu rious and irreligious man of the world though HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 69 he was, he was yet a man of high character and humane sentiments, and he was horrified by the deep perfidy and satanic cruelty which the compact of the kings implied. It was ut terly in violation of all the edicts which se cured the rights of Protestants. He kept his own counsel at the time, but registered an oath that he would do what he could to thwart the nefarious project. He saw clearly that it was aimed chiefly at the Netherlands, and that upon them its worst consequences were bound to fall, and he de termined to do what he could to " drive the Spanish vermin " from what he regarded as his own land. Two things soon made it clear to William that Philip had launched his policy of exter mination. The means essential to its accom plishment were, first, an increased body of re liable troops, and, second, a numerous and well-organized body of clergy, devoted to the work of the Inquisition. Neither of these could be legally secured without the consent of the States General. Philip, however, was not a man to be deterred from anything upon which he had set his heart by so small a mat ter as a question of law. He ordered the troops at the close of the war with France to take up their quarters in the Netherlands, 170 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. and quieted the fears of the people by ex plaining that it was only a temporary meas ure, and assured them that they would soon be recalled. But as month after month passed and he failed to keep his promise, popular outbreaks occurred, which increased to such an extent that the regent, Margaret of Parma, was compelled to find a pretext for sending the soldiers away. The second necessity was the increase of the clergy in connection with the Inquisition. There had never been but four bishops in the Netherlands, and the laws forbade an increase of the number of the clergy without the con sent of the States General. Philip appointed twelve new bishops, with the requisite number of clergy, and clothed them with inquisitional power. The only explanation he deigned to give was that heresy was so rapidly increasing that they were necessary to deal with it. Already thousands of persons had suffered by the Inquisition in the Netherlands. Philip himself had declined to change it, when Gran- velle requested that its severities be decreased,, because, he said, it was already more severe than that of Spain; and the Queen of Hun gary, who was regent when Charles V. issued his edict establishing it, found it necessary to make a long journey in order to personally HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 171 remonstrate with him against its inhuman cruelty. Even the Roman Catholics of the Nether lands were horrified at the sufferings of their Protestant brethren. The nobles were all Romanists, and the three chief among them, Orange, Egmont and Horn, were unalterably opposed to the policy of the government. They were men of humane sentiments and, unlike the Spaniard, did not enjoy the sight of human agony. But Philip was obdurate, and the work of death began in earnest. It now became evident to the people of the Netherlands that they were dealing with a false tyrant, to whom oaths and pledges, laws and obligations, meant nothing. The whole story as it now runs from 1560 is a sickening mass of duplicity, fraud, lies, treachery and unbridled ferocity, coupled with a wily, stealthy, panther-like cunning and malicious satisfaction in human suffering and a people's ruin, unexampled in history. The regent, Margaret of Parma, and Cardinal Granvelle, her chief adviser, took a diabolical pleasure in playing into Philip's hand against each other, and both together against the people of the country they pretended to rule, and Philip gloats over the discomfort and sus pense of both, and makes fair promises which 172 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. he never means to fulfil, in order to keep them both quiet and faithful in their work of de struction, until he shall see fit to supplant them by a more energetic and terrible instru ment of his deadly purpose. We now know that Philip is responsible for the whole catas trophe. The publication of the Spanish archives during the last fifty years has re vealed the fact that the whole nefarious scheme for the extermination of a nation — the most peaceable, law-abiding, intelligent, loyal and prosperous of all his subjects — must rest with Philip alone. There at his desk, where he spent most of his time and carried on his senseless, unsteady, fatal but persistent and dogged office administration, he hatched his dark projects and directed their execution, without a minister, counselor or adviser of any sort. Neither Granvelle nor Alva were anything more than the pawns in the hand of the master on the chessboard of his game of ruin and desolation. He had a fatal genius for blundering, and it does not appear that he had any genius in any other direction. Born to rule according to the accident of birth, he Was born to ruin according to the eternal law of incompetency, stupidity and brutish obstinacy. He could not recognize the inevitable. He lacked the wisdom which HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. I 73 Carlyle indicated in his famous retort. When it was reported to the Sage of Chelsea that Margaret Fuller accepted the universe, he re plied, "Gad, she'd better!" The cruel edict of Charles V. was revived, and it ran as follows : " All persons are for bidden to print, copy, multiply, have, buy, sell or give away any work of any heretic." No indignity or lack of reverence might be shown to any image of the Virgin or saints. It was forbidden to attend any heretical gathering of any sort; to read the Scriptures, or take any part in or be present at any discussion of them ; and all under pain of a variety of bar barous punishments. All miscreants called heretics were to be put to death. If they re canted, the men were to die by the sword, the women to be buried alive; if obdurate, they were all to be burned alive after tor ture. Any persons who had any dealings with heretics or even omitted to accuse others of heresy were to be regarded as heretics themselves and treated accord ingly. Persons who were accused of heresy, but against whom nothing could be proven, might escape with their lives if they abjured such heresy; but they lost their property, and if accused a second time, their lives also. An informer against any who were convicted of 174 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. heresy was rewarded by a large percentage of the confiscated property. None but a nation of slaves could ever be expected to submit to such barbarities. Charles V. knew better than to rigidly en force them, and for years they had been in abeyance; yet 50,000 persons perished under them in his long reign of forty-five years, and thousands of those who could left the country under his comparatively mild rule. But when it was seen that Philip meant rigidly to en force these edicts, the irritation and distrust which they had always occasioned became greatly aggravated and inflamed. Factories began to close, industries to languish; for eign merchants closed their offices, and all who could prepared to leave the country, and insurrections broke out. A grim determina tion gradually settled upon the people to re sist the monster who had now usurped all their liberties and abolished even their name and form. They first sent Egmont to Madrid to pre sent their grievances to the king and pray for redress, since all their complaints to the re gent had resulted only in increased severities. The king promised redress and sent Egmont home in high spirits. The same day he wrote to the Pope of his purpose to enforce the HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 75 edicts more rigidly than ever, and sent a dis patch to the regent to redouble her severities. The national rejoicing which met Egmont on his return was soon turned into mourning by the execution of an unusual number of the harshest decrees with unusual severities. Orange had watched all these proceedings with the eye of a statesman and the discern ment of a prophet. He had long known the designs of Philip, and he knew his character better than any other man in Europe. He had sought to dissuade Egmont and the peo ple from a mission to Madrid, in which they had been duped and humiliated, and when that failed he warned them explicity of their danger. It is said that Egmont mocked him for his fears, and parted from him with the words, " Adieu, my prince without a heart," to which Orange replied, " Adieu, my count without a head." Within six- months of that time the count's head had rolled from the block. Than him the king had no more de voted, faithful and brave subject. One day, when the edicts were under dis cussion at the council board, Orange rose and delivered such a speech against the enormities of the government as caused the president of the council, one of the king's tools, a stroke of apoplexy, which came near terminating the 176 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. caitiff's life. The country now broke out in open revolt. The nobles forsook the govern ment and made common cause with the peo ple. About five hundred young nobles en tered into a compact to resist the devil that was working the destruction of their country. They made a demonstration and marched to the palace to present their grievances. The regent, panic-stricken and helpless, turned to her minister for advice, and he remarked that he would " kick the beggars downstairs." The gay young bloods caught at the term " beggars," and forthwith adopted it as a title of their union, and with the beggar's pouch and bowl for their sign, put themselves at the head of the people. They placed a fleet upon the seas which soon became terrible under the name " Sea Beggars." The printing presses were set at work, and floods of tracts, and pamphlets were issued, before which all the vigilance and censorship of the government were helpless. The people massed themselves in bodies ten and twenty thousand strong, and marched out into the fields, forming into solid squares, with the women and children and aged ones within, surrounded by the able-bodied men, armed with pitchforks, scythes, axes, clubs and fire arms, and whatever else could serve as a HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 177 weapon to a desperate and determined man. In the center stood the ministers. And thus drawn up in battle array the gospel was preached, the Scriptures were read and ex pounded, prayers were offered, psalms sung, baptism and the Lord's Supper were adminis tered, and the ceremony of marriage was per formed, according to the simple rites of the Protestant faith, edicts or no edicts, Inquisi tion or no Inquisition. They presented so formidable an array that even the armed hosts did not offer to attack them, and the government, under Orange's persuasion, was compelled to withdraw its op position to the field-preaching. The Catholic clergy, however, were not willing that the Protestants should be per mitted to defy the edicts, even though now they could not be enforced; so they made a senseless and pompous display of themselves in the streets of Antwerp, which acted upon the people like a flame of fire to a train of gunpowder, and caused a national explosion. Hitherto the Protestant outbursts had been peaceable, and only in the form of protest and demonstration ; but now the unruly members and lewd fellows of the baser sort among them broke loose and raged in their fury against the foe that had at last overstepped I78 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. the bounds of endurance. Goaded to despera tion, the Protestants arose. They invaded the cathedral at Antwerp and devastated it like a whirlwind. All its beautiful painted glass, its splendid images and pictures, its gold and silver and ivory statues, vessels and ornaments, glittering with jewels, were strewed a formless mass of rubbish upon the floor, and no man deigned to stoop and pick one up. The fury spread like wild fire over the country, and in a single province four hundred churches were stripped and all their images demolished; but no personal violence was offered, nor was there any complaint of theft. Thoroughly frightened by this universal uprising, the regent granted Orange's request to check the Inquisition in return for his promise to quell the insurrection. His in fluence with the " Beggars," as they were called, and his power over the mob, put down the disturbance, and the leaders agreed to keep the peace as long as the regent kept her promise. But Philip was filled with bound less rage when he heard of it, and resolved upon summary vengeance upon all concerned. His plan involved the deposing of the regent, the removal of the Council of State, the be heading of all the nobles, the confiscation HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 179 of all their property, and the indiscriminate slaughter of the people. And the third act in the dark tragedy was begun. The man selected to execute this mild and gentle policy of the clement king of Spain was no less a person than the now notorious Duke of Alva. He was in Italy at the time, at the head of veteran troops, himself Spain's most famous general. His subsequent career, however, deserves no especial mention in his tory except for the odium with which he covered himself by the manner in which he played out his part in the tragedy of the Neth erlands. He was at one time estimated to be the greatest of Spanish soldiers, but it now seems clear that Charles V.'s estimate of him is correct: that he was competent to com mand only small bodies of men in positions where military skill was not required. When he came to contend with skilful generals, he either declined to give battle or suffered de feat. With all his veteran troops, which greatly outnumbered the largest army of mercenaries and raw recruits that Orange was ever able to put in the field, he could not stand before the prince or his brothers Louis or Henry. In personal appearance he was tall, thin and angular ; his head was small, his face long, l8o STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. slender and sallow ; his eyes were small, badly set, flittering and restless, with a cold, steel like glare. In the position of ruler he did not mani fest any of the qualities of rulership, but only those of a robber and murderer. His regency of the Netherlands can be described only as one long series of massacres and extortions. His senseless arrogance and inordinate van ity gave expression to itself in a statue of him self which he had set up in Brussels, in which he was represented standing with each foot upon the neck of a prostrate human form, the victims representing the crushed estates of the Netherlands. He was a man of narrow intel lect, boundless rapacity, and a heart of stone, incapable of constructive or fostering meas ures, but capable of a reckless ferocity in de struction and a savage delight in pillage sel dom or never equalled in the annals of civil ized warfare. And in all this he was only the tool, the exact counterpart, of his master, Philip II. When he arrived in the Netherlands at the head of 20,000 veteran troops, in August, 1567, the country had been quiet for almost a year, and the people had regained heart and returned to their regular employments. Signs of prosperity once more appeared and HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. I$I restoration of confidence was seen in the re newal of business. But with Alva's coming a pall fell over the land. Orange resigned all his offices and betook himself to his estates in Nassau, saying as he did so to a friend, " The most extraordinary tragedy that the world has ever seen is now about to begin." The character and policy of the man were at once apparent. He came armed with ex plicit instructions to turn the property of the country into the royal treasury and to exter minate the people. The laws were at once suspended, the courts were closed, a council was established, which earned for itself the title of " The Council of Blood," and eighteen hundred persons were sent to the block in three months. The country was under mili tary rule, and literally held down by large bodies of Spanish troops, which were being constantly reinforced. Alva boasted that he was sending a stream of gold into Spain " fathoms deep," and the work of burying and burning alive was going merrily on. The Council of Blood, with Alva at its head, sat from eight to twelve hours a day for the sole purpose of trying capital cases, and although the headsmen in every town were busy from sunrise to sunset, the prisons were overcrowded. It soon became 1 82 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. too arduous a task to keep up the appearance of trials and that needless formality was dis pensed with, as was also the irksome courtesy of arresting persons on legal process. The seine was thrown and they were gathered in by scores and hundreds. As many as five hun dred were taken at one time and marched to the block, the ditch or the stake, as fast as room could be made for them, without the preliminary precaution to ascertain who were Romanists and who Protestants. Horrible as it is to relate, and incredible as it may appear, this is Alva's own descrip tion of the work of death to his master, and it went on for more than five years. Alva boasted that he had put to death in that time twenty thousand persons by judicial pro cedure alone. The first check he received was from William's brother Louis, who invaded the North with a small army of mercenaries, and by a fortunate division afforded a happy relief to the stricken country, upon which the blight of death had now fallen. He called off the bloody monster from his favorite sport of slaughtering unarmed citizens and hanging merchants up before their shop doors to the necessity of taking the field and defending himself with arms. But before he set out, HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 83 Alva made good his title in history to being the most senseless tyrant that has ever under taken the work of ruining a people. He adopted the policy of cutting off the heads of all the probable leaders of the people in the towns, and issued an edict that only those persons were to be exempt from death against whom nothing had yet been charged, pro vided they made haste to conciliate the gov ernment and received absolution from the Church. He followed it up with another, which condemned to death indiscriminately. Spain has been remarkable for the number and variety of human monsters she has pro duced, both in ancient and in modern times. But after Philip II. himself and Torquemada, it is difficult to match, even in her annals, the " bloodthirsty hangman " of the Netherlands. A Dahomey chief could not be worse, and a wild beast of the jungles could not be more ferocious. It was as though he had become drunk with blood and, as if maddened by the thirst it excited, a perfect frenzy of slaughter had seized him, so that he could not be pla cated as long as a possible victim of his mur derous passion remained alive. Orange was watching all this gorge of blood from a safe distance, but with the fires of an inextinguishable wrath burning in his 184 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. heart and the lightnings of the day of judg ment flaming from his terrible eyes. Orange had now abjured the Catholic faith and openly espoused the Protestant cause. He set himself at once, on the coming of Alva, to use all his vast influence for the rescue of his country. His estates were already encum bered to the extent of a million florins, in curred in the services of Charles and Philip. Besides that, the richest part of his posses sions were in the Netherlands, and they were now confiscated to the crown. But in spite of all that, he was still very rich, and he pro ceeded to mortgage his properties in order to raise troops. He entered into alliances with foreign Protestant powers. He married one of Coligny's daughters, then the most power ful noble in France, and, although but a sub ject, able to enter into treaties with foreign powers and to declare war or make peace with his own sovereign. And when the great admiral fell, on the awful night of St. Barthol omew, William lost his noblest, most powerful and most faithful friend, who was about to come to his relief with fifteen thousand troops, and was left once more to face alone his and Protestantism's most relentless foe. But, in spite of the loss of his friends and of his three brothers, all of whom fell on HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 185 the field at the head of their troops; in spite of the treachery of his allies and the in efficiency of the mercenary troops they sent him, the mighty heart of the great prince never failed him. Defeat followed defeat ; re volt and treachery beset him on every hand, but he never faltered in his determination to drive the Spanish vermin from the land. His son was carried away captive from the uni versity, and his life held as a threat over his father. The furrows upon his face deepened, the mouth set more firmly, and the light of his dark eyes burned deeper and flashed more terribly; but the father sacrificed his plate as a last resort and raised a fresh army. In 1570, Orange took the field in person, resolved upon victory or death. In order to justify himself in the eyes of the world, he issued a proclamation in which he says : " The tyrant will dye every river and stream with our blood and hang the corpse of a Dutch man on every tree before he ceases to slake his revenge and to gloat over our miseries. If he is too strong for us, we are ready rather to die an honorable death than to bow our necks to the yoke and give our country to slavery. We are therefore prepared, if need be, to set fire to our houses and perish in the flames, rather than ever submit to the man dates of this bloodthirsty hangman." 1 86 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Defeated again, he had lost his land, his retainers and his property. All his hereditary estates were mortgaged to the last florin. Destitute of means, forsaken by his allies, with his credit exhausted, his family broken up and his son a captive, his friends in the Neth erlands besought him to abandon them and save himself. But William had lost every thing except his dauntless spirit and his faith in the great God in whose cause he believed himself enlisted. Disguised as a peasant, he made his way through the Spanish lines, ad dressed an appeal to the Protestant princes, and a letter of encouragement to his own people. Inspired by the example of their in domitable prince, and convinced that their cause was the cause of Protestantism in Eu rope, the provinces of which he had long been Stadtholder in Holland and Zealand resolved to perish to a man with William rather than give up the fight. They elected William Stadtholder and, under his instruction, adopted a constitution and voted men and money for the war. The death grapple was now joined between an impoverished, heart-broken and decimated people and the world power of the age. A struggle ensued to which history records no parallel, and in which Orange was to prove HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 187 himself more than a match for all the com bined powers of the world's greatest monarch and potentate. The statesmanship, the gen eralship and the wealth of the age were pitted against him. He outwitted the statesmen, circumvented the diplomats, and discomfited, under arms, with vastly disproportionate forces of raw and mercenary troops, the greatest generals of the age, and held them all successfully at bay for fifteen years. It was now in vain that Philip tried concili ation and poured his treasure like water into the Netherlands; that he concentrated all his forces there, and followed Alva by Parma and him by Requessus and him by Don John of Austria. William made use of the swamps and marshes to engulf and ruin them all. During those fifteen desperate years he or ganized victory out of defeat, kept the Catho lic powers from combining with Spain against him, held the Protestant princes together in a forced and reluctant alliance, and secured from them from time to time grudging and meager but timely help. And so he fought his way, inch by inch, through the country, driv ing the Spaniards before him, until he suc ceeded at last in clearing the seven north ern states from their venomous plague and united them together in a federated republic, 1 88 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. known as the " United Provinces of the Netherlands." The pacification of Ghent and the union of Brussels secured the cooperation of all seventeen provinces, when he dictated terms of peace and compelled Philip to prom ise religious liberty to the Netherlands. And it was because he broke that promise that the war broke out afresh which devastated the south and laid it in ruins haunted by wild beasts for a century, establishing, however, the new Protestant republic in the North, to which all subsequent federated republics are more or less indebted, our own not the least of them all. Orange was appointed hereditary Stadtholder of this republic, and by reason of his great services obtained the title of the " Father of his Country," which he alone of men deserves to wear along with our own Washington. Nothing can better illustrate the benefits that attended those who accepted the Refor mation and the miseries that awaited those peoples who rejected it than the subsequent history of these two sections of the Nether lands. The north went on to increasing pros perity and the south to increasing wretched ness and misery, and although the north after wards rescued the south from its degradation, it is still far inferior to its northern neighbor. HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 89 Philip's reckless ferocity had at length goaded a peaceful, industrious people into a nation of unconquerable heroes. They placed a fleet upon the sea, which harried the coast and sailed all waters in search for Spanish booty, and became the terror of the Spanish Main. Alva, who had made his boast on com ing to the country, " I, who have tamed men of iron, will soon manage this people of but ter," found it uncomfortable to appear on the streets. The camp became a more desirable dwelling place for him than his palace at Brus sels. Everywhere he was met with such looks of hatred and scorn, and greeted by the de risive cry of the people, " Down with Alva ! Down with Alva ! " that his position became intolerable even to him. He saw that his part of the tragedy was played out, and found it convenient to petition for a recall. Philip, as his manner was, let him slink out of the coun try in disgrace. A single instance must suffice to show the temper of the people and the spirit that ani-, mated them in this war. It is the celebrated siege of Leyden. The Spaniards sat down before Leyden in 1574. Provisions were short, and all attempts to relieve the city failed. At last Orange, now ill from exhaustion and hardship, from his sick bed advised that they 19° STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. cut the dykes and let in the sea. Three great sea walls, the work of generations through centuries, protected their homes and their harvests, which were just ripening, from the sea. It was a terrible sacrifice, but still they set themselves to the work with a will. The work was difficult, the winds adverse, and as the days lengthened into weeks and the weeks into months, the suffering became indescrib able. Provisions gave out, and cats, rats and mice became delicacies and rarities at that. Pestilence broke out and mowed down the people. The Spaniard offered them favorable terms of surrender, but they mocked him from their walls and declared that death by starva tion or pestilence was preferable to Spanish clemency. " So long as a mouse runs or a cat mews within our walls," said a burgomas ter, " we will not surrender." And yet again one is reported to have said, " When there are neither cats nor mice to eat, we will eat the flesh off our left arms and with our right defend our women and children." After four months of indescribable suffer ing the sea came in and bore to their walls the ships laden for their relief, and the Span iards fled for their lives. William asked what favor he should grant the citizens of Leyden HOLLAND — WILLIAM THE SILENT. 191 for their heroic defense of the city, and, starv ing and impoverished as they were, they asked for a " university where their sons might be educated," and William founded the Uni versity of Leyden, which stands to this day as a monument to the courage and wisdom of the city. It was here also that the Pilgrim Fathers found refuge and a hospitable welcome dur ing the ten years between their leaving Eng land and sailing for America. The long patience of this phlegmatic people was now exhausted. The ancient Frisian blood was up. Better were it for that man who undertook to trifle with the defiant, pas sionate Dutch phlegm when it was roused that he had never been born. One might as well try to fight an earthquake or a whirl wind or a volcano in eruption as the fury of a long-suffering, patient, peace-loving people once it is kindled for revolt. And so Spain found. The resolution was now taken — bet ter a drowned country than an enslaved one — and the people stood ready to cut the dykes if need were. Not being able to cope with his great enemy by lawful means, Philip now had re course to the last resort of cowards. He of fered 25,000 golden crowns to any one who I92 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. would rid him of his unconquerable foe, a pardon for all crimes, and a patent of nobility. Six attempts were made upon William's life, and the seventh succeeded, in 1584. It was a story of duplicity and treachery to the end. The miserable wretch who committed the deed had gained entrance to William's house under pretense of being a Protestant refugee, seeking his protection, and it was character istic of Philip not to pay the reward to the heirs until he was compelled to, and then in a greatly reduced form. But before he died William had created a power that could not be assassinated, and which was gloriously to avenge his death. As it were out of the sea a Protestant nation had arisen, and under his guidance had taken a foremost place among the na tions. The persecuted of all lands found shelter in its free institutions and protec tion in its strong right arm. They in turn contributed their intelligence and skill, their moral courage and spiritual fervor, to aug ment the strength of their adopted coun try. There and there alone on the earth flour ished civil and religious liberty, like goodly cedars, and in their peaceful shade human energy and enterprise found for the first time their full scope and power. A world power HOLLAND WILLIAM THE SILENT. 1 93 was fast growing up, against which Spain was to hurl herself with all her prodigious strength and with no other result than to solidify and consolidate the new state and dash herself to pieces. William's son Maurice wisely fostered the institutions his father had founded, and ably continued the struggle he had begun. The people increased their prosperity, their minds were stimulated, and their characters purified by the fierce conflict they had so long been compelled to wage and were still in a measure compelled to maintain. Amsterdam succeeded to the place of first importance among cities of the world, and became the center of wealth and culture, of art and literature, and for two centuries held the undisputed supremacy in the commercial, financial and political life of the world. Her town hall, built by the burgesses as their pub lic building, is now a royal palace and one of the finest in Europe, and abundantly attests the wealth and magnificence of that city three hundred years ago. The army and navy were so ably adminis tered that the Netherlands became inviolable soil. Her fleets destroyed what was left of the Spanish navy after the destruction of the Armada, prevented the formation of a new 194 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. navy, and swept the Spanish shipping from the seas. Under Tornx and De Witt, she de fied England, sailed up the Thames to Lon don, and struck terror into the heart of that brave country, and then sublimely sailed the seas, like the jaunty little queen she was, with a broom at her masthead, in token of her absolute and undisputed maritime supremacy. The Dutch East and West India Com panies were formed, and Dutch ships carried the commerce of the world. They took pos session of new lands and carried Dutch colo nists and Dutch manufactures to all parts of the world, and brought back to the Nether lands the choicest products of all lands. They broke the power and humbled the pride of Spain to such an extent that she was never able to recover from the blow. Philip was brought to bankruptcy. He repudiated his debts at the last, and a collection was taken for him from house to house in his impover ished country to defray his personal expenses. Spain was ruined, her best sons sacrificed, and her resources exhausted by the most sense less devotion to a blind passion that ever in fatuated the empty head of an unreasoning despot. LECTURE VI. THE STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY GENERAL CONCLUSION — THE PRACTICAL GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION TO THE WORLD. In the previous lectures on the general sub ject of the Reformation, we have traced, briefly and hastily, the course of the great struggle for religious liberty. This general review was of necessity confined to historical events. It was impossible to dwell upon the principles which underlay them or to describe the results that flowed from them, except in a local and particular way. It must have been evident to you all that here was a very serious and grave omission. No movement great enough to cover all Europe, vital enough to continue over a period of two hun dred years, powerful enough to convulse every European nation, and pervasive enough to affect equally politics and religion, could possibly have sprung from purely local causes or have left behind it purely local results. It is my purpose this evening to speak of some of the practical results of the Reforma- 196 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. tion as it affected the world at large and made permanent contributions to the welfare of mankind. We are not only justified in such an inquiry, but we are impelled to it by the thought of the prodigious sacrifices which alone made the Reformation possible. The incalculable cost in suffering and in human life of that great struggle which reduced pop ulous regions to howling wildernesses, as in Bohemia, Hungary and Belgium, and in flicted upon a country like Germany physical injuries, as in the Thirty Years' War, and upon France moral wrongs, as in the Mas sacre of St. Bartholomew, from which these countries have not yet recovered, forces upon us the query — cui bono? to what purpose all this waste and suffering? What has it done for the world? Any success secured at such incalculable cost, as in Bohemia, for example, where the population was reduced from 4,000,000 to 80,000 in thirty years, must dis close within itself some permanent visible re sults in order to justify that outlay. In order rightly to estimate those results, we must go back to the condition of things before the struggle began, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, when the Roman Catholic Church was the only church in Eu rope, excepting in Russia, which was then an GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 197 insignificant and unimportant semi-barbarous state, which for all practical purposes may be entirely ignored. Two great powers divided the world between them, but professed to rule it in conjunction — the Holy Roman Empire and the Roman Catholic Church. The day had long passed when the spiritual preroga tives of the Church served as a check to the tyranny of the temporal powers. The Church and the temporal powers were now either united or divided, as the interests of one or the other dictated, for the purpose of maintaining their own supremacy and the more completely subjecting the common peoples. Absolutism in the State was fast usurping and destroying the ancient rights and liberties of the peoples, and ecclesiastical domination was stamping out the last vestige of intellectual freedom and moral liberty. The rulers had played into the hands of the priests to secure political despotism, and the priests had in turn played into the hands of the rulers to estab lish ecclesiastical tyranny, and the people were between them as between the devil and the deep sea. They were robbed by the Church and beaten by their rulers and left half dead. They were ground to powder between the upper and the nether millstones. As a result, darkness and desolation reigned 198 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. supreme. The revival of learning illuminated for a time the higher walks of life, but left the great body of the people in a darkness deepened by the contrast. None of the ameli orating effect, either of the Renaissance or of the discovery of the New World, reached to the great mass of the common people. They were ignorant, and no attempt was made to teach them. They were degraded, and no hand was reached out to uplift them. They were wretched and miserable, but no effort was made to relieve their distress. On the contrary, their utter helplessness invited fresh assaults upon their liberties and renewed ef forts to increase the burdens under which they groaned, and to rivet more rigidly the yoke which galled them. In that century Pope Pius II. made a jour ney to Britain, and he describes the condition of things as he saw them. He says that the peasants (and nine-tenths of the people were peasants) lived in houses of stones piled up without cement, the conical roofs of which were secured against the weather by layers of turf. There was an opening at the top for smoke to escape, but no chimneys and no windows. A low opening served for a doorway, which was closed at night, if at all, by the stiffened skin of an animal. The garments of the common GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 1 99 people were of the coarsest and rudest sort, made of hemp, and their food consisted of roots and herbs and a kind of bread made of wheat. The floors of their miserable huts were of beaten earth, and they were themselves the serfs of the soil. The cities were, if that were possible, worse off than the country. They consisted of a few palaces built like fortresses, with blank walls to the streets, and surrounded by collections of hu man sties. The streets were narrow and un- paved, without drainage or sidewalks, the dumping" places of refuse from the houses and hovels, and, unlighted by night, they were the scenes of violence and brigandage, while by day they were filled with turmoil and con fusion. They were the breeding places of vice and crime, of disease and pestilence. The common people everywhere were uni formly ignorant. There were no schools for them. Their persons and labor belonged to the nobles; their intellects and consciences to the priests. To question the absurd and ridiculous claims of kings or priests meant swift and certain death. There was no science to speak of. Crass superstition connected with the relics of the saints and amulets blessed by the Pope, and the use of holy water, consecrated oils, 200 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. priestly anointing and incantations, signs and miraculous words, stood in the place of medi cine. Instead of chemistry, there was al chemy and the black art; instead of astron omy, astrology. Religion had degenerated into a gross and grovelling superstition, in which the visiting of shrines, the worship of images, and the relics of the saints — the do ing of penances and the purchasing of in dulgences, were the chief functions. Art had degenerated into a fulsome flattery of the great and powerful, a glorification of wanton princes and abandoned popes and their panders and satellites. Darkness cov ered the earth and gross darkness the people. Social bonds were relaxed and 'gross and ter rible licentiousness and besottedness pre vailed among all classes. A fatal mental and moral lethargy possessed the people. The churches were magnificent specimens of art and architecture, but they were filled with gaudy shrines and grotesque images of the saints, which were the objects of superstitious romance on the part of the people. Medi cal science did not exist in any proper sense, as indeed no other science did, and illness /was regarded as a kind of possession of the devil, to be cured by incantations, magic signs or influence of the celestial bodies or GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 201 heavenly spirits, a visit to the shrine of a saint, or contact with the relics of a saint. Necromancy held the place that science now holds. The people were everywhere sunk in sloth, in ignorance, in poverty, in filth, and in crime. Tyranny and oppression under the sacred sanctions of religion had combined to rob and oppress the people, and whoever had the hardihood or dared to question the divine right of kings or the divine authority of priests, found himself the helpless and de fenseless victim of both. The people had no rights that either rulers or priests were bound to respect. It was then that the voice of Luther broke forth and rang like a clarion through Europe, waking men out of their long sleeps rous ing them from their lethargy and inciting them to break the fetters that had so long bound them, and shake themselves free from their ancient and hereditary foes. The revival of learning had already run its course and spent its force. It had stimulated the minds of students and quickened an interest in ancient culture. It had made polite learn ing fashionable, roused the flagging energies of the universities to renewed efforts and given an impulse to more serious studies ; but it had not deeply affected humanity as a whole 202 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. — a few choice spirits out of the great mass of mankind were alone influenced by it. It had wrought no amelioration to society. . It did not deal with humanity as such ; but with an cient learning. Philosophy and belles-lettres were its chief subjects. It did not concern itself with the problems of the day, nor in terest itself in the state of the common peo ple. Its attitude towards religion was skepti cal, and towards life in general satirical or pessimistic. It had no new truth to disclose and no new impulse to impart to life. It quickened men's minds for a time and within a limited range, arid then it left them. But the Reformation which began with Wyclif a hundred years before the revival of learning, and which came to its maturity in Martin Luther after the Renaissance had declined, was a popular movement, born of the crying needs of the people and bent on securing their good. It proceeded upon a basis of learning and of thought; but it reached practical conclusions. Its leaders were scholars, and after Erasmus all the greatest scholars of the sixteenth century were enlisted in its success. But it was not primarily an intellectual movement. It was primarily a religious movement, and because of that it soon became a moral movement, a GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 203 social movement, a political movement, and an intellectual movement. To illustrate what I mean, compare those parts of Europe where the Reformation was successful with portions where it failed, and remember that it succeeded in those countries where the revival cf learning had had least effect, and failed in those that were its strong holds. Italy, France and Spain were the chief centers of intellectual activity in the fifteenth century. Germany and England were but slightly affected by the Renaissance, and in the south of Europe it continued to hold its sway for two centuries after the intellectual life of Germany and England had taken an entirely new direction. And what has been the result? Contrast Northern with South ern Europe and see. Southern Europe was, in the fifteenth century, the fairest part of the earth, with the single exception of the Nether lands. Northern Europe was rude and bar barous. To-day the situation is exactly re versed. Southern Europe has declined in civilization, in culture, in art and literature and wealth. Northern Europe has steadily advanced in everything that makes for human happiness and well-being. The United Netherlands rose, as it were, out of the sea, a Protestant republic, in the 204 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. midst of the strife and feud of Roman domina tion, took at once the leading place in the world's affairs, and became the center of its in dustries, its commerce, it finance, its literature, its art, and its politics, while Spain descended from the proud position of the leadership of nations to the lowest place in the scale of na tional influence. Germany has risen under Protestant influences from being a collection of petty principalities at war with each other, having a sterile soil and proverbial for barbar ism, to the intellectual leadership of the world, with a roll call of great names in scholarship unequaled by any other country of the world, and is to-day the most united, prosperous, progressive and powerful nation on the conti nent of Europe. Once she had worked her self clear of the rubbish of Rome, England forged to the front and took and long kept the leadership in the world's affairs. Under Protestant leadership, from the days of Ed ward III., she has always taken a position in European affairs out of all proportion with the size and importance of the country itself ; but under Roman influences she has always sunk down again into insignificance and has become a mere island dependency of France. Says Macaulay, " Whoever, knowing what Italy and Scotland naturally are, and what four hundred years ago they actually were, GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 205 shall now compare the country round Rome with the country round Edinburgh, will be able to form some judgment of the tendency of papal domination. Whoever passes in Germany from a Roman Catholic to a Protes tant principality; in Switzerland from a Ro man Catholic to a Protestant canton; in Ire land from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant county, finds that he has passed from a lower to a higher grade of civilization. The Protes tants of the United States have left far be hind them the Roman Catholics of Mexico, Peru and Brazil. The Roman Catholics of Lower Canada remain inert, while the whole continent round them is in a ferment of activ ity and enterprise. The French have doubt less shown an energy and an intelligence which, even when misdirected, have justly en titled them to be called a great people; but this apparent exception, when examined, will be found to confirm the rule, for in no coun try that is called Roman Catholic has the Ro man Catholic Church, during several genera tions, possessed so little authority as in France." During all those years a steady decay is observable in the Roman Catholic countries which at the outbreak of the Reformation were the great world powers. They are seen to have been afflicted with a kind of pro- 206 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. gressive paralysis which pursued its irresisti ble course until all the vital centers were pal sied. Civilization decayed in Spain. Art ceased to flourish in Italy. Austria lost her political supremacy, and France pressed on her reckless course from the Massacre of St. Bartholomew to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. These great changes have been brought about by an entirely new conception of life. It was not only a reformation, but it was a revolution as well. It brought out and pro claimed a whole new set of principles for hu man life. Some of you may think that I go too far when I say that the Christian ideas and principles of life had been ignored and forgotten for a thousand years, and the an cient pagan ideas and ideals prevailed still over Europe. They had been adopted by and incorporated into the Roman Catholic Church. A significant illustration of this fact is seen at St. Peter's, Rome, in the famous statue of St. Peter, which is the object of ro mance and adoration to devout Catholics to this day. It is an ancient pagan statue of Jupiter renamed for the patron saint of Rome. It is a good illustration of what went on, not only at Rome, but throughout Europe for centuries. The pagan temples were taken over GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 207 by the Christians and given Christian names ; the pagan idols became the statues of Chris tian saints ; the pagan rites were rechristened into Christian names, as the pagans them selves were, and with them the pagan cus toms, laws and ideas. The Pope superseded the Emperor, St. Peter, Jupiter, St. Mary, the Magnus Mater, the mass, the sacrifice of Hec atombs. The Pope took the title of the priest of Jupiter, " Pontifex Maximus," and based his authority upon the same principles of force and fear. The names of the days of the week, of the months, of the year and of the great Christian festivals, as well as the manner in which they are still observed, show how deeply the pagan ideas were rooted in the minds of the people, how persistent they were, and how deeply they succeeded in stamping themselves upon Roman Catholicism, in which the man is made to serve the institu tion; while in the true state the institution is made to serve the man. That is the differ ence between the pagan and the Christian civilizations. The fitting symbols of the one are the Inquisition, the censorship of the press, and the Order of Jesuits, three of the most diabolical engines of despotism that human ingenuity ever invented. The symbols of the other are the open Bible and the print- 208 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ing press — the two most effective agents of human advancement known to man. The two ideas upon which ancient civiliza tions were established were force and fear. Force on the part of the rulers and fear on the part of the people. Might made right. Power meant despotism, and strength meant the subjugation of the weak to the strong. The sense of personal or moral obligation did not enter into the structure of human society. Government was based upon the principle that the weak must serve the strong ; that the unfortunate were the legitimate prey of the successful, and that government and author ity were the chief instruments for subjecting and enslaving the governed. The theory of human society that prevailed held that God had set up two classes of persons to repre sent Him on the earth — they were priests and rulers. To the latter he had given authority over the bodies and the lives of men, and to the former power over their minds and con sciences. To question the authority of either was to question the authority of God. It was impious and perilous ; the audacious cul prit who presumed to question the grounds upon which such stupendous claims were based found himself speedily under the ban of both Church and State, an outlaw among GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 209 men, his property confiscated, his life at stake, with no one willing to offer him shelter or succor, to give him food or clothing, to min ister to him in sickness, or defend him before the law. Treated as a wild beast, he was hunted and hounded out of every refuge and subjected to the bitterest persecution until brought to bay, when he was flung upon the rack and crushed and mangled until the suf fering body could barely contain the spark of life, when he was given to the flames or wild beasts. To maintain society upon these principles, two of the most diabolical engines of oppres sion ever invented by human ingenuity were established in the Middle Ages — one the In quisition, the other the censorship of the press. The first was to control the consciences of men and keep their moral sense subject to the dictation of the priest; the other was to control the intellects of men and keep them in subjection to the same powers. Their su preme object was to secure mental and moral darkness, and cause both to prevail among mankind. Only so could rulers hope to main tain their supremacy, to preserve their privi leges, to uphold their power over the masses of men. A more inhuman or satanic design could not be conceived. The binding up of 2IO STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. the feet of little children to prevent their growth, the maiming and deforming of sound and healthy children to make cripples of them for purposes of gain, are innocent and harm less amusements compared with the atrocity of which the Church and the State of the Middle Ages were guilty when they conspired to stultify the intellect and dwarf the con science of mankind, in order to prevent men from thinking their way out of degradation and slavery to kings and priests into intellec tual and moral freedom and integrity. But nature is sincere, impartial and un corruptible, and works with an unerring and unfailing certainty. You can no more per manently repress the intellect or conscience of mankind than you can cement over the ocean. The emissaries of the two great insti tutions just alluded to, aided and abetted by the Jesuits, spread over Europe like the plague of locusts, infested every household, invaded the most sacred privacies of family and individual life, violated all the laws of honor and decency, mastered all the arts of falsehood and duplicity, for the sole pur pose of riveting more tightly the fetters of men and rendering them a more easy prey. Those who yielded to these enslavers descended still deeper into the slough and GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 311 morass of misery and wretchedness. Italy, Spain, Austria and France, having killed off all their Protestants, yielded themselves up willing victims, and all the world knows what these countries are to-day. While those who fought the triple Nemesis, fought their way through seas of blood, but to safe harbors and habitable lands. It is worthy of note in this connection that the term Protestant did not arise from the differences of doctrine between the Reformers and the Roman Catholics, but because of the protest which the Reformers made against an act of treachery on the part of the Roman ists who broke faith with them at the Diet of Spires in 1529. The characters of the men who led the Romanist party stand in glaring con trast with the characters of the men who led the Protestant party. The difference in moral character is one of the striking features of the whole movement. The Protestant leaders were by no means perfect men, but with one or two notable exceptions, they were men of staunch moral character, unselfish men, capa ble of great self-sacrifice, men who sunk their personal interests in the general good. The effect of the movement, on the whole, upon the people at large had that effect— it begot in them a self-sacrificing spirit, a noble, gen- 212 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. erous spirit. It infused them with the spirit of heroes and martyrs. Calculation and self- seeking disappeared for the time, and multi tudes identified themselves with the great cause. But their opponents were animated by ignoble and ungenerous sentiments and displayed the basest qualities. Treachery, deceit, duplicity and double dealing were cultivated and became a fine art in the Roman Catholic camp. The Society of the Jesuits, who were the teachers in morals and the leaders in persecution, had for their motto, "The end justified the means," and they illustrated the doctrine in their practice. The most sacred oaths were violated; the basest treacheries were perpetrated, like the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, for instance, and the vilest crimes committed under cover of hospitality or flags of truce. Over against the ideas of force and fear upon which the ancient regime was founded, the Protestant reformers set up the opposite and antagonistic principles of individual re sponsibility and personal freedom. Luther's ninety-five theses were the Declaration of In dependence to the sixteenth century. His doctrine that the just shall live by faith was the emancipation proclamation of mankind. It was the root idea which blossomed two GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 2 13 hundred and fifty years later in the Declara tion of Independence in America, which as serted the inalienable right of every man to life, to liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It was a religious principle at the outset, but it soon came to have bearings on all the rela tions of life. For, if it be true that a man is justified by faith in God alone, then it is equally true that he has no need of the inter vention. of priests or the rites of sacerdotalism or the services of the hierarchy. It was a blow at the most stupendous system of or ganized religious tyranny the world had ever seen. And with the hierarchical system went also that other doctrine of the Divine right of kings, which was its alter ego, its logical shadow. It soon became evident that the single principle of justification by faith and not by absolution from a priest once estab lished, a reconstruction of society from the bottom upwards, became inevitable. The priest horde must go, the hierarchy must dis appear, the Church must be reorganized, the State reconstituted, and all the institutions of society revised. It is not only true, as Burke said, " Society is impossible without religion," but it appears from the effects of the Reforma tion that religion is related to society as the root to the branches of the tree. 214 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. I. It is thus one of the first and most notice able gains of the Reformation that a new type of character had appeared in Europe. A class of men had arisen to whom the words honor, integrity, uprightness, truth and righteous ness were not mere high-sounding phrases, borrowed from an illustrious past, and used as a cloak to cover a multitude of sins against all truth and honor, but to whom they repre sented living realities and personal qualities essential to any form of character that would stand the tests of time and do the real work of the world. II. The political gains also of the Reforma tion are not the least of its benefits to man kind. The fundamental principle of Protes tantism is the right of the individual to use his own judgment in all matters that concern his personal interests. That principle was gener ally favorable to liberty when it was adopted. Under its influence the people began to think for themselves. As we have seen, the doc trine of the divine right of kings and the vice regal quality of priests came generally into question, and priests and kings equally feared and hated the opposite idea of personal free dom, because of the seeds of political revolu tion which it held. The denial of sacerdotal authority, and the consequent blow, at hier- GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 215 archal pretensions which the Reformation involved, were only the beginning of the gen eral revolution in human society that it was to work. Like a great oak tree, the prin ciple of the right of private judgment which Protestantism espoused went to work at once to feel among the foundations of hu man society for its false and unwarranted supports. Society as then constituted began to tremble. There was not at that time a single good government on the face of the earth, a single country ruled in equity or judged in righteousness, a single spot of earth in which justice, liberty or humane sentiments prevailed, not a single republic or democracy or constitutional monarchy. The first Prot estant State was the Dutch Republic. The battle of constitutional liberty was fought out in England by the Protestant against the Roman Catholic royalist, and a constitutional monarchy was the result. In Germany, Prus sia took the lead as a constitutional monarchy, as the result of the Reformation, and De Tocqueville says, " North America was set tled by men who brought with them a demo cratic and republican religion. This con tributed powerfully to the establishment of a republic and democracy in public affairs." The " town system " and the " town spirit " 2l6 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. which lie at the root of our national system of federated republics were the direct out growths of the church politics which the early settlers brought with them to this country. The northern portion of our country was set tled, not by commercial or industrial colonists, nor by political or other adventurers, but by churches as such — worshipping congregations who came hither to find the liberty to wor ship God according to their own way of worship. They were each of them independ ent units, who chose their own officers and elected them out of their own number, and on finding themselves in America without civil government or magistrates, they elected magistrates from their number and proceeded to adapt their church polity to their civil necessities. With a true instinct, the kings had divined in this religious polity a threat of their own existence. James I. had declared " No Bishop, no King." The laity of these independent churches at Boston, Salem, Plymouth, Hartford, Windsor, New Haven and other places, settled in the same manner or by offshoots from the original congrega tions, became strongholds of democratic sen timent and liberty-loving patriots. They planted the tree of liberty wherever they planted a church, and the seed of that tree GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 217 soon flourished as in its own native soil. Now and again a man appeared, even in the old world, like the Elector Frederick of Saxony, the Landgrave of Hesse, Phillip, William of Orange, and Gustavus Adolphus, who had the people's interests at heart, and both sacrificed his means and risked his life in the cause, wholly from a sincere conviction of its justice and righteousness. But, on the whole, the rulers of the earth set themselves, and princes took counsel together, against it, because they saw in it the doom of their own absolutism. Even Henry of Navarre (IV.) abjured Prot estantism in order to become King of France, and upheld Romanism as a foundation of the throne. III. Religious liberty is another boon which the Reformation secured to the world, only partially, it is true, at first, for even the Reformers were not always magnanimous, and the fair escutcheon of Protestantism is not unstained by some foul blots. But the root of the matter was there, and it was bound to grow until it reached its fruition. As a matter of fact, religious liberty in any form exists only in Protestant countries, or in other countries where it has been forced by Protes tant influences. No Roman Catholic country has, while it was under strictly Roman Catho- 2l8 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. lie control, ever yet enacted any laws that permitted the practice of any other religion in any form. And if we find in France, Spain and Italy to-day any approximation to re ligious liberty, it is only because the authority of Roman Catholicism is relaxed and other influences have predominated. On the con trary, Protestant countries have been steadily working towards complete religious freedom and have approached most nearly to it in those countries where the principles of the Reformation have most completely tri umphed. The Roman Catholic Church steadily and stubbornly repudiates the principles of the right of private judgment and the liberty of conscience in everything, religion and politics alike. It reprobated these doctrines and de nounced them as pestilential heresies and fatal errors. It is interesting to note in this connection, in view of the objection often urged against Protestantism as a creator of anarchy and re- laxor of due respect for law and government, that Protestant countries that have experi enced the gradual and natural development of free institutions are to-day the most law- abiding and orderly portions of the world, while under Roman Catholicism anarchy GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 2 19 breeds, and revolutionary horrors are the affliction of every Roman Catholic country in the Old and the New World. The principle of religious liberty is a purely Christian principle. When Constantine espoused Christianity, and when not only was the persecution of the Church brought to an end but Christians were exalted to positions of influence and power, even to the supreme command in the empire of the world, their sudden release from persecution and their unexpected exal tation from a state of outlawry to the highest position in the government did not corrupt them nor change them from humble followers of the meek and lowly Nazarene into fierce and bloodthirsty persecutors of their enemies. On the contrary, they put in force the prin ciples they had always maintained, and showed that they had actually formed their characters upon the model of Christ. Per suaded by the Christian leaders, Constantine, as one of his first acts after he became a Christian, issued the Edict of Milas, which granted entire and absolute religious free dom to the whole empire and prohibited only cruel and impure rites in pagan worship, and the edict was observed for almost a century, until a barbarous emperor ascended the 2 20 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. throne and stirred up religious bitterness be tween the different religions. With that single exception, there had never been any religious liberty among men. Every man was expected to conform to the religion of his country, whatever that might be, and not to suggest any change in it, much less any departure from it. The early Chris tians incurred persecution because they were considered to be either a new sect of the Jews or a new religion, and in either case they were amenable to the law. But the Roman Catholic Church of the Middle Ages con ceived the ambitious design of subduing all peoples unto itself and of supplanting all re ligions by its own. It could tolerate no dif ferences. It created the doctrine of salva tion by the Church and it taught that salva tion out of the Church was impossible. The Reformation was a return to primitive Chris tian principles in religion. It aimed to create a condition of things in which it would be possible for every man to worship God under his own vine and fig tree, with none to molest or make him afraid. IV. Not the least of the benefits of Protes tantism has been its effect upon the intellec tual life of its adherents. It acted at once as an intellectual tonic and invigorator. It GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 221 aroused the investigating spirit and gave rise to the critical method of study as opposed to the submission to authority which preceded it. The Renaissance acted as an intellectual stim ulus and quickening in Southern Europe upon the minds of a few, but it neither nourished a sustained and vigorous intellectual life nor ac complished release from long-established au thority, and in those countries where Protes tantism was rejected it did not long continue, but proved to be a fitful, waning light, which went out within the century. In both France and Spain it degenerated into literary drivel and deformity. In France, intellectual life took the form of lawlessness and extrava gance, and in Spain that of servility, and obse quious effrontery marks the literary product of the subsequent times. The influence of the Roman Catholic Church upon the human mind for four hundred years and more has been to stultify it. Since the Reformation she has produced few great scholars, and the cramped and crippled condition of the minds of her recent writers is the surest possible arraignment of her system of education. Protestantism throws open wide the doors of knowledge, of investigation, of thought and of inquiry. It bids man search and find. The whole wide world is before him, with all 222 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. its secrets, and the intellect with which God endowed him is his for the purposes of finding it out. Protestantism imposes upon him the obligation of developing every faculty of his mind, and seeks to impress him with the cul pability of neglecting opportunity to increase his power to think. He is in this world as a learner, and it is his duty to know as far as he can. He is to try and prove all things. No ex cathedra utterance and no arbiter dictum are to be regarded as final. He is to investigate, inquire and find but all he can in every sphere, and not to rest satisfied with any stage of knowledge in which he may happen to be at any time. The effect of that sort of teaching was im mensely quickening to the human mind. It necessitated at the outset provisions for the education of all the people, and that Luther saw; and Puritans and Pilgrims in England and America, as Well as the Dutch people, set themselves at work to devise a general sys tem of popular education. The intellectual su premacy of Protestant countries to-day is due to that fact. Holland first came into promi nence for the intelligence and culture of her people as she emerged from the baptism in blood at the hands of Roman Catholic Spain. England reached the golden age of literature GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 223 when the Protestant ferment was at its height, and such men as Bacon and Shakespeare, Raleigh and Milton, were its ripened products. Scotland has been remarkable for the num ber and magnitude of the really great names she has contributed to letters, to the fine arts, to science, to philosophy, to statesmanship, to poetry and religion. The immense erudi tion of her scholars and the general intelli gence of her people for the last three hundred years and at the present day are surprising, when we consider the generally impoverished condition of the country at the outbreak of the Reformation; and it can be attributed to no other cause than the heartiness and una nimity with which she adopted the principles of the Reformation and the strenuousness with which she has lived up to those princi ples. Her covenant with Protestantism was the covenant of blood, signed and sealed with the best blood of the nation. Germany has earned the title of the land of scholars. Since the middle of the eighteenth century the achievements of the German mind in all branches of scholarship have surpassed those of all other nations of ancient or modern times, and she still holds the palm for scholar ship. Melancthon, the great scholar of the Reformation, gave particular attention to ed- 224 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ucation, and he is still honored, and justly so, with the title, " Preceptor of the Nation." And Luther gave to Germany her first general system of education, and the principles upon which it has grown and expanded were first established by the great leader of the Refor mation. Time fails me to speak of the effect upon philosophy, how the Reformation revolution ized the principles of human knowledge, and in Bacon first established the true principle of investigation upon which modern science rests, and upon which our advancing knowl edge in history and religion is developed and is alone possible. It has taught us to think on a basis of facts, not of fancies or theories, to base all our theories upon facts, not to conform our facts to theories. It has pro duced a new system of philosophy, beginning with Descartes and culminating in Kant and Hegel. Out of it arose the new sciences of commerce, of government, of industrial and social life. Political economy and sociology also are born of the very genius of Protes tantism. It also rescued the Copernican sys tem of astronomy from the blighting con demnation of the Inquisition before there had been time utterly to crush out its life, and while Galileo was yet a prisoner at Rome, GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 225 because of his adherence to that system, it found adherents and advocates in all Prot estant countries. All natural sciences were encouraged by Protestant liberty of thought and investigation, and the study of interna tional law arose as a new creation. V. But it is in the realm of religion that we perceive the chief benefits of the Reformation. When Protestantism appeared, a state of gen eral irreligion prevailed throughout Europe among all the thinking, educated classes, and of gross superstition among the lower classes. Atheism itself sat upon the papal throne in the person of at least one pope. The chief effect of the Renaissance had been to weaken the hold of the Church upon the edu cated and thinking classes; but it had left them without anything better in its place. The Roman Catholic Church has always recognized the danger to herself of general education and, therefore, has discouraged it; has never permitted it to prevail where she could prevent it, and has established a modi fied form of education in her own parochial schools under the supervision of the Church. Wherever general education is established and compulsory, either she will not have her children go to school at all, or she will see to it that they receive no instruction but that 226 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. which she authorizes and approves. And the result is a reaction against the Church on the part of the independent and thinking portions of her own children as soon as they begin to acquire knowledge for themselves or come in contact with those who have it. The Reformation met the rising tide of skepticism which was beginning to sweep over Europe, and wherever successful, stayed the course of that skepticism for a hundred years. It was preeminently the era of faith in all Protestant countries, and the period of rationalism which followed it was mild and harmless compared with the rank infidelity which prevailed in Southern Europe at the same time and gave rise to such men as Vol taire and Rousseau, while it was France, Catholic France, that was and still is the home of atheism. Protestantism's first service in religion was in providing man with the greatest textbook of the spiritual life in existence. It called from its seclusion the Bible, and gave it its right ful place in religious instruction. It estab lished the Bible as the perfect rule of religious faith and practice, and made it the touch stone of conduct. The translation and dis tribution of the Scriptures in the vernacular among the peoples of Protestant countries GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 227 were attended by immediate and marked re sults, in the sincerity, simplicity, depth and power of the religious life. Intelligent inquiry and diligent study of religious truths were ac companied by deep religious feeling and sim ple, childlike faith and profound reverence. The kind of devotion which consisted in grov elling prostration and obeisance before images vanished before the sincere homage which the heart rendered to God alone. The worship of shrines and images and saints and angels, the superstitious regard for amulets and relics and magic signs and symbols, incantations " and genuflexions, disappeared, and a simple and pure spiritual worship of God took its place. The Protestant doctrine of worship is, " God is a spirit and desireth such to worship Him as shall worship Him in spirit and in truth." The Protestant position in worship is that no priest or ceremony can come between the soul and God ; that the worshipper enters into the immediate presence of God by the new and living way opened up by Christ, and that no intermediary agents or instruments are permissible or possible ; that every man is re sponsible to God for his conduct; that he stands or falls to God alone, and that unto God alone must he give an account, and from God alone can he receive absolution of sin. 2 28 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. Under such a religious system, spiritual tyranny and moral slavery is forever utterly impossible. The man who accepts it and lives in it has attained the glorious liberty of the children of God. Let us, therefore, to whom it is given as a precious heritage, stand fast in this liberty in which Christ hath made us free — a liberty in which we are all brethren, in which none can lord it over God's heritage, and in which he who would be first among us must be our servant. The result of this change in religion ap peared also in a new form of character. Per haps nothing is more marked in all the last four hundred years than the growth and prevalence of a new manhood. Character has assumed a new station, a new dignity, a new solidity and a new worth. The coupling of the Christian graces with the heroic virtues is practically a new achievement. The wed ding of generosity with justice; of kindness with firmness; of entire truthfulness with un failing grace; of the utmost integrity with the most unfaltering affection as it exists to day in what is known as Christian character, is one of the immediate outcomes of the Ref ormation. The qualities of endurance, stoi cism and firmness which characterized the Spartan are wedded to the graceful qualities GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 229 of keen sensibility, quick insight, and aes thetic delicacy characteristic of the Athenian. The Spartan heroism and the Athenian deli cacy and grace are met. The Hebrew con science and the Greek exquisiteness of sensi bility are united here ; or, to be more general, the delicate grace and beauty that we are ac customed to associate with woman and the strength and fortitude we call masculine are become one. A true Christian character, as it appears to us, is a full-rounded, symmetri cal character, having fortitude, endurance, in tegrity, sensibilities and grace. That is our idea of saintliness, " Which without hardness can be sage, and gay without frivolity." " Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re." And Protestantism has produced multi tudes of such characters. Among the Quak ers and the Methodists they are of frequent occurrence, perhaps of greater frequency than among any other bodies, but they are found among all Christians. The gentle, tender, sweet, pure, strong, enlightened, energetic, firm and dauntless champions of truth and right are illustrators of the mind that was in Christ, with none of the restrictions which characterized a man like a Kempis, or Fran cis of Assisi, or Brother Lawrence, or Tauler. They are full-rounded and symmetrical, giv- 230 STRUGGLE FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. ing the impression of a fullness of stature of manhood in Jesus Christ. The genius of Prot estantism is not the mere effort to escape hell and get into heaven by some means at last, but it is to make men better in this pres ent world, and to help men make this world better; it is to teach men how to make a heaven on earth; it is to be clean and straight and true; to be men and not animals; to come out of the sty and quit meanness; and the success Protestantism has had in this alone, as seen by the comparison between a Catholic and Protestant community to-day, is enough to justify all the Reformation has cost. In a word, the immense amelioration of society in modern times is a Protestant pro duction, through its influence upon the in tellectual, civil and religious life of man, and so upon human character. No Roman Cath olic state has by itself ever yet developed a just or humane government, an enlightened or progressive community, an elevated or aspiring type of public character. Exalted and pure souls there have been among Ro manists, not a few, but even they often seem to lack the intellectual balance and symmetry essential to the ideal character. And this result has been accomplished by exalting and emphasizing Christ as the ob- GAINS FROM THE REFORMATION. 23 1 ject of worship and emulation. Next to the restoration of the Bible to its rightful place in the thought and study of men is the res toration of Christ to his rightful place of authority in the heart and over the mind of man. The ultimate authority in Protestant ism as it stands to-day is not an institution called the Church, nor a book called the Bible, but a person called the Christ. Christ is su preme in the Protestant's heart, high over all, God-blessed forevermore. The re-enthrone ment of Christ in the hearts and over the lives of men in these last days is the chief service of Protestantism to the world. " I live for those who need me, For those who need the truth, For the heaven that smiles above me And waits my coming too; For the wrong that needs resistance, For the right that needs assistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do." lllllll