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History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 7 of 8




                     DR. MERLE D’AUBIGNÉ’S HISTORY.


1.—THE HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 5 Vols.
$6.00

2.—THE HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION IN THE TIME OF CALVIN. 7 Vols. $14.00


[_From a Review by Prof. F. Godet of Neuchâtel._]

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

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


ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS.




      HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION IN EUROPE IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.

                                 BY THE

                   REV. J. H. MERLE D’AUBIGNÉ, D.D.,

                             TRANSLATED BY

                          WILLIAM L. R. CATES,

 ‘Les choses de petite durée ont coutume de devenir fanées, quand elles
                               ont passé
                              leur temps.

 ‘Au règne de Christ, il n’y a que le nouvel homme qui soit florissant,
                               qui ait de
               la vigueur, et dont il faille faire cas.’

                                CALVIN.


                               VOL. VII.

              ENGLAND, GENEVA, FRANCE, GERMANY, AND ITALY.

                               NEW YORK:
                       ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
                           No. 530 BROADWAY.
                                  1877




                           EDITOR’S PREFACE.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Professor F. Godet, of Neuchâtel, expresses the same opinions and
insists on them.[7] After having spoken of ‘that stroke of a masterly
pencil which was one of the most remarkable gifts of M. Merle
d’Aubigné,’ he adds—‘It is always that simple and dignified style, calm
and yet full of earnestness, majestic as the course of a great river, we
might say—like the whole aspect of the author himself. But what appears
to us above all to distinguish the manner of M. Merle is his tender and
reverential love for his subject. The work which he describes possesses
his full sympathy. He loves it as the work of his Saviour and his God.
Jesus would no longer be what he is for the faith of the writer if he
had not delivered, aided, corrected, chastened, governed and conquered
as he does in this history. St. John, in the Apocalypse, shows us the
Lamb opening the seals of the book containing the designs of God with
respect to his church. M. Merle, in writing history, appears to see in
the events which he relates so many seals which are broken under the
hand of the King of Kings. In each fact he discerns one of the steps of
his coming as spouse of the church or as judge of the world. And just as
the leaves of the divine roll were written not only without but within,
M. Merle is not satisfied with portraying the outside of events, but
endeavors to penetrate to the divine idea which constitutes their
essence, and to unveil it before the eyes of his reader. Do not
therefore require him to be what is called an objective historian, and
to hold himself coldly aloof from the facts which he recalls to mind. Is
not this faith of the sixteenth century, of which he traces the
awakening, the struggles, defeats and victories, _his own faith and the
life of his own soul_? Are not these men whom he describes, Calvin,
Farel, Viret, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh? Are not these
churches, whose birth and first steps in life he relates, his own
spiritual family? The reader himself, to whom his narrative is
addressed, is for him an immortal soul, which he would fain make captive
to the faith of the Reformation. He does not for an instant lay aside,
as narrator, his dignity as a minister of Christ. The office of
historian is in his case a priesthood. Not that he falls into the error
of determining at all cost to glorify his heroes, to palliate their
weaknesses, to excuse their errors, or to present facts in a light
different from that objective truth to which he has been led by the
conscientious study of the documents. The welfare of the church of
to-day for which he desires to labor, may as surely result from the
frank avowal and the severe judgment of faults committed, as from
admiration of every thing which has been done according to the will of
God.’

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

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

A last volume will appear (D.V.) before the end of the present year.

AD. DUCHEMIN.

LYONS, _May, 1876_.

Footnote 1:

  The _Athenæum_ of September 25, 1875. In this article we find a
  curious anecdote which we admit, not without some reserve. It serves
  as a support to the considerations which follow. The writer of the
  article relates that he once heard a discussion between M. Merle and
  Professor Ranke respecting certain features in the lives of his
  favorite heroes. The former defended them at all points; while the
  German historian, with his sceptical temperament, seemed to take a
  malicious pleasure in bringing forward their weaknesses. At the close
  of the discussion M. Merle exclaimed with some impatience—‘But I know
  them better than any one, those men of the sixteenth century. I have
  lived with them. I am a man of their time.’ ‘That explains every
  thing,’ replied Professor Ranke, ‘I could not believe when reading
  your books that you were a man of the nineteenth century.’ As our own
  age differs so greatly in every respect from the age of the
  Reformation, it must be counted a very fortunate circumstance that a
  man of the sixteenth century has arisen to depict for us that great
  epoch.

Footnote 2:

  _Journal de Génève_, 30 April-1 May.

Footnote 3:

  Vol vi. p. 412.

Footnote 4:

  ‘Purgationem objecimus.’—Calv. _Opp._ tom. x. p. 107.

Footnote 5:

  ‘Nos iniquissime in suspicionem adductos.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 6:

  ‘Cujus libelli latinitate donandi occasionem præbuit Petrus Caroli,
  Sorbonæ Parisiensis doctor atque prior.... Is igitur iniquis contra
  Farellum Viretum et Calvinum sparsis rumoribus, tandem eo prorupit ut
  palam illos viros, collegas et doctrina et moribus præstantissimos
  hæreseos accusaret, arianismi scilicet et sabellianismi, aliarumque
  talium pravitatum. Nulla alia tunc publica exstabant fidei ecclesiæ
  Genevensis monumenta præter illam (Farelli) quam diximus confessionem
  et Calvini catechismum quæ tamen utpote Gallici conscripta, ceteris
  Helveticis ecclesiis fere incognita erant. Calvinus itaque suum
  catechismum et Farelli confessionem latine loquentes fecit ut omnibus
  istis fratribus fidei doctrinam a se huc usque Genevæ traditam et
  falso hæreseos accusatam hac versione declararet.’

Footnote 7:

  _Le Christianisme au dix-neuvième Siècle_, of February 18, 1876.

Footnote 8:

  _La Littérature française, depuis la formation de la langue jusqu’ à
  nos jours_, by Lieutenant-Colonel Staaf. The first edition bears the
  date of 1870. The fifth (1873) is now before us.

Footnote 9:

  _Revue Théologique_, Montauban, October, 1875.




                    CONTENTS OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.


BOOK XI.—(_continuation._)

CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.


CHAPTER XIX.

CALVIN’S RECALL TO GENEVA.

(AUGUST 1540 TO MARCH 1541.)


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


CHAPTER XX.

CALVIN AT RATISBON.

(1541.)


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


CHAPTER XXI.

CALVIN’S RETURN TO GENEVA.

(JULY TO SEPTEMBER, 1541.)


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


CHAPTER XXII.

THE ECCLESIASTICAL ORDINANCES.

(SEPTEMBER, 1541.)


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


CHAPTER XXIII.

CALVIN’S PREACHING.


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


CHAPTER XXIV.

CALVIN’S ACTIVITY.

(FEBRUARY, 1542.)


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


BOOK XII.

THE REFORMATION AMONG THE SCANDINAVIAN NATIONS—DENMARK, SWEDEN, NORWAY.


CHAPTER I.

AWAKENING OF DENMARK.

(1515 to 1525.)


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


CHAPTER II.

A REFORMATION ESTABLISHED UNDER THE REIGN OF LIBERTY.

(1524 to 1527.)


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


CHAPTER III.

TRIUMPH OF THE REFORMATION UNDER THE REIGN OF FREDERICK I. THE PEACEFUL.

(1527 to 1533.)


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


CHAPTER IV.

INTERREGNUM. CIVIL AND FOREIGN WAR.

(1533.)


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


CHAPTER V.

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

(1533 to 1550.)


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


CHAPTER VI.

THE EARLIEST REFORMERS OF SWEDEN.

(1516 to 1523.)


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


CHAPTER VII.

THE REFORMERS SUPPORTED BY THE LIBERATOR OF SWEDEN.

(1519 to 1524.)


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


CHAPTER VIII.

STRUGGLES.

(1524 to 1527.)


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


CHAPTER IX.

VICTORY.

(1527.)


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


CHAPTER X.

‘CESAROPAPIE.’

(1528 to 1546.)


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


CHAPTER XI.

THE SONS OF GUSTAVUS VASA.

(1560 to 1593.)


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




BOOK XIII.

HUNGARY, POLAND, BOHEMIA, THE NETHERLANDS.




CHAPTER I.

THE FIRST REFORMERS AND THE FIRST PERSECUTORS IN HUNGARY.

(1518 to 1526.)


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


CHAPTER II.

SOLYMAN’S GREAT VICTORY.

(1526.)


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


CHAPTER III.

DEVAY AND HIS FELLOW-WORKERS.

(1527 to 1538.)


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


CHAPTER IV.

PROGRESS OF EVANGELIZATION AND OF THE SWISS REFORMATION IN HUNGARY.

(1538 to 1545.)


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


CHAPTER V.

THE GOSPEL IN HUNGARY UNDER TURKISH RULE.

(1545 to 1548.)


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


CHAPTER VI.

BOHEMIA, MORAVIA, AND POLAND.

(1518 to 1521.)


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


CHAPTER VII.

THE POLISH REFORMER.

(1524 to 1527.)


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


CHAPTER VIII.

THE POLISH REFORMER IN THE NETHERLANDS AND IN FRIESLAND.

(1537 to 1546.)


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


CHAPTER IX.

BEGINNING OF REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.

(1518 to 1524.)


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


CHAPTER X.

OUTWORKS.

(1525 to 1528.)


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


CHAPTER XI.

THE VICTIMS OF CHARLES V.

(1529 to 1535.)


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


CHAPTER XII.

LOUVAIN.

(1537 to 1544.)

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




                       BOOK XI.—(_continuation._)
                CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.


                              CHAPTER XIX.
                      RECALL OF CALVIN TO GENEVA.
                      (AUGUST 1540 TO MARCH 1541.)


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

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

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

[Sidenote: Flight Of Morand And Marcourt.]

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

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

Calvin disapproved of these attacks directed against the pastors in
office.

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

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

[Sidenote: Embassy Of Dufour.]

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

[Sidenote: Calvin At Worms.]

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

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

    ‘To the Doctor CALVIN, Evangelical Minister.

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

    ‘This 22d October, 1540.

    ‘Your good friends,

    ‘THE SYNDICS AND COUNCIL OF GENEVA.’[19]

This letter was fastened with a seal bearing the motto—_Post tenebras
spero lucem_.

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Perplexity.]

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

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

[Sidenote: His Reply To Geneva.]

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

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

           Erreurs et vérités, ténèbres et lumière
           Flottent confusément devant notre paupière,
           Où l’on dit: C’est le jour! et bientôt: C’est la nuit!

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

[Sidenote: Viret At Geneva.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin And Melanchthon.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Their Mutual Confidence.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s ‘Song Of Victory.’]

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

            Que tous ses ennemis qui lui ont fait la guerre
            Aillent après, captifs, baissant le front en terre:

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

[Sidenote: Calvin And Viret.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Victims Of The Plague.]

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

Footnote 10:

  Roset, _Chron. MS._, book iv. ch. xxxvii. xlii. _Registers of the
  Council_ for the day—Gautier.

Footnote 11:

  Roset, _Chron. MS._, book iv. ch. xlv.

Footnote 12:

  ‘Nec tamen id eo spectat, ut auferatur jus illud vobis a Deo collatum
  (ut et suis omnibus), ut examini subjiciantur pastores omnes.’ Calv.
  _Opp._ x. p. 352.

Footnote 13:

  ‘Neque auctor velim esse tyrannidis ullius in Ecclesiam
  invehendæ.’—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 353.

Footnote 14:

  See _Reg._ for the days mentioned. Roset. Roget, i. p. 191. Gaberel,
  _Pièces justificatives_.

Footnote 15:

  ‘Biduo tanta animi perplexitate æstuasse ut vix dimidia exparte apud
  me essem.’ Calvin to Farel, Oct. 21, 1540. _Opp._ xi. p. 90.

Footnote 16:

  ‘Locum illum velut mihi fatalem reformido.’—_Ibid._ p. 91.

Footnote 17:

  ‘Malim vitam centies exponere, quam eam deserendo prodere.’—_Ibid._ p.
  92.

Footnote 18:

  Calvin, _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 30.

Footnote 19:

  Calvin, _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 32. _Opp._ xi. p. 94.

Footnote 20:

  _Calvin to Farel_, Nov. 13. _Opp._ xi. p. 114.

Footnote 21:

  Calvin, _Comment. on John_ xii. 25 (1553).

Footnote 22:

  ‘Adhibui statim fratrum consilium, aliquid agitatum est.’—Calv. _Opp._
  xi. p. 114.

Footnote 23:

  ‘Obtestatus sum, quibus potui modis, ne me respicerent.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 24:

  ‘Quam plus lacrymarum efflueret quam verborum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 25:

  ‘Ut secessum quærere coactus fuerim.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 114.

Footnote 26:

  ‘Modo ne quis ventus istinc flaverit.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 27:

  Calvin’s _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 33.

Footnote 28:

  _Ibid._ i. pp. 30, 34, 37.

Footnote 29:

  See Letter, _Opp._ xi. p. 132.

Footnote 30:

  _History of the Reformation_. First Series, vol. ii. book vii. ch.
  viii.

Footnote 31:

  Roset, _Chron. MS._ book iv. ch. xlvii.

Footnote 32:

  ‘Sed qui sumus pro tanto populo?‘—Bernard. Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 148.

Footnote 33:

  ‘Populum in lacrymis effusum videns.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 34:

  ‘Clamant omnes: Calvinum probum et doctum virum Christi ministrum
  volumus.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 148.

Footnote 35:

  _Ibid._ p. 86.

Footnote 36:

  ‘Duces Luneburgici Calvinum et me nominaverunt ut suo nomine in
  colloquio adessemus.’—Sturmius, _Antip._ iv. p. 25.

Footnote 37:

  Preface to the _Psalms_, p. 9.

Footnote 38:

  ‘In ea disputatione qua Passaviensem decanum Calvinus percelluerat,
  territum a Calvino primo Argentinensi congressu.’—Sturmius, _Antip._
  iv. 21.

Footnote 39:

  ‘Ut soliti sumusquoties una fuimus.’—Calv. _Opp._ Amst. ix. p. 174.

Footnote 40:

  ‘Ὡσπερ ὄνος ἐν σφηχίαις.’—Calv. _Epp._ edit. 1575, p. 109.

Footnote 41:

  ‘Pietas vero angelis et toti mundo testata.’—Calv. _Epp._ edit. 1575,
  p. 67.

Footnote 42:

  ‘Utinam, utinam moriar in hoc sinu!‘—Calvinus contra Heshusium.

Footnote 43:

  Calvin on _John_ xvi. 33.

Footnote 44:

  Badius to Th. de Bèze.—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 48 of the Preface.

Footnote 45:

                 Magnifico celebrem Christi cantate triumphum
                 Carmine. Io Pæan cætera turba canat.

  —_Epinicion._ Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 425. This song of victory consists of
  124 lines. Only a few fragments have been published. The poem was
  translated into French metre by Conrad Badius of Paris, and of this
  version we have cited two lines.

Footnote 46:

  _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 37.

Footnote 47:

  Calvin’s letter to Farel, Strasburg, Feb. 19, 1541.—Calv. _Opp._ xi.
  p. 156.

Footnote 48:

  Calvin’s letter to Bernard. Ulm, March 1, 1541.—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p.
  166. Letter to Farel.—_Ibid._ p. 170.

Footnote 49:

  ‘Nullum esse locum sub cœlo quem magis reformidem... Jam nescio qui
  factum sit ut animo incipiam esse inclinatione ad capessenda ejus
  gubernacula.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 167.

Footnote 50:

  ‘In illis (literis) enim Periclis tonitrua mihi audire videbar.’—Cl.
  Feræus to Farel. Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 171.

Footnote 51:

  See Calvin’s letter to Farel, March 29.—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 175, and
  his letter to Richebourg, _ibid._ p. 188.




                              CHAPTER XX.
                          CALVIN AT RATISBON.
                                (1541.)


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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Speech Of Cardinal Farnese.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Unity And Diversity.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Who Profanes Religion?]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: True Ministers.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin At Ratisbon.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Moderation.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Departure From Ratisbon.]

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

Footnote 52:

  ‘Minime idoneus mihi ad tales actiones videor, quidquid alii
  judicent.’—To Farel, Strasburg, Feb. 19, 1541. Calv. _Opp._ xi. p.
  156.

Footnote 53:

  ‘Nondum meretur mundus ista bestia liberari.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 217.

Footnote 54:

  ‘Contarinus sine sanguine subigere nos cupit, Mutinensis totus est
  sanguinarius et bellum subinde in ore habet.’—To Farel, March 29.
  _Ibid._ p. 176.

Footnote 55:

  ‘Er hasste ihn.’—Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i. p. 334.

Footnote 56:

  ‘Philippus et Bucerus formulas de transsubstantiatione composuerunt
  ambiguas et fucosas.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. 217.

Footnote 57:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 52. In his annotations Calvin veils himself under
  the name of Eusebius Pamphilus.

Footnote 58:

  ‘Quæ pontificii conventicula his viginti annis aut amplius ad
  opprimendum evangelium habuerunt,’ etc.—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 472. March
  1541. A summary of the cardinal’s discourse is given in Sleidan’s
  _Hist. of the Reform._ ii. book xiii. p. 207. Edit. of the Hague,
  1767. Calvin’s reply is in the _Opp._ v. p. 461. It is omitted in the
  previous collections of his works.

Footnote 59:

  ‘Everso sublatoque episcopali munere, sub ejus nomine tyrannidem
  prorsus antichristianam stabilire.’—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 472.

Footnote 60:

  ‘Si qui autem alia requirant, hos nec protestantes inter suos
  deputabunt.’—_Ibid._ p. 475.

Footnote 61:

  ‘Cæterarum observationum ecclesiis sua relinquenda est
  libertas.’—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 477.

Footnote 62:

  ‘Nihil itaque a protestantibus exsistit, cur difficile nedum
  impossibile sit solidam et piam ecclesiarum concordiam
  restituere.’—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 478.

Footnote 63:

  ‘Catholici protestantes.’ Calvin evidently denotes by this phrase the
  Protestants who, like himself, wish for one universal church, one in
  faith, in charity, and in hope, although it may have diversities in
  church government and in forms of worship. The conception of such a
  church is a grand one.

Footnote 64:

  ‘Totum etiam orbem ad consortium veræ et unicæ religionis Christi
  permoveri.’—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 481.

Footnote 65:

  There is a whole body of Catholic literature devoted to the
  description of the immorality of Romish ecclesiastics; works of a
  grave character, satirical and humoristic works, &c. See the _De ruina
  ecclesiæ_ of Nic. de Clémengis, rector of the university of Paris, who
  calls the ecclesiastics _Porci Epicurei_. Bebel, _Triumphus Veneris_.
  Théobald, _Conquestus in Concil_. _Const._, says—‘Sacerdotes non solum
  tabernas sed etiam lupanaria intrare: puellas, maritatas atque
  noviciales, corrumpere; episcopos eodem vitio laborare.’

Footnote 66:

  ‘Esset magnum monstrum in corpore Christi.’—Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 489.

Footnote 67:

  Isa. viii. 9, 10. Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 499.

Footnote 68:

  ‘Donec uti uno incendio Germaniam viderint conflagrare.’—_Ibid._ p.
  498.

Footnote 69:

  Calvin on 1 Tim. i. 17.

Footnote 70:

  This was noticed by the editors of Calvin’s works. See vol. v.
  _Prolegomena_, p. liii, 1866. ‘Hoc Farnesii consilium. . . ubi
  mensibus aliquot post emanasset, Johannes Calvinus excusum typis
  commentario vestivit’ (p. lv).

Footnote 71:

  ‘Crede mihi, in ejusmodi actionibus opus est fortibus animis qui alios
  confirment.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 216.

Footnote 72:

  ‘Si essemus dimidio Christo contenti, facile transigeremus.’—_Ibid._
  p. 217.

Footnote 73:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 654. Acts of Ratisbon. It is thought that the notes
  in which these remarks and others occur are Calvin’s because they are
  found in his French edition of the Acts, and not in the Latin and
  German editions. Internal evidence confirms this supposition, for his
  style and his mind are in them.

Footnote 74:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. pp. 658, 659.

Footnote 75:

  _Ibid._ p. 663.

Footnote 76:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 671. We are glad to see Calvin’s moderation
  acknowledged by Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i. p. 341.

Footnote 77:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. pp. 680-684.

Footnote 78:

  ‘Occasionem præterire nolui; sic elapsus sum.’—Calvin to Farel, July,
  1541.—_Opp._ xi. p. 252.




                              CHAPTER XXI.
                       CALVIN’S RETURN TO GENEVA.
                         (JULY TO SEPT. 1541.)


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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Return To Geneva.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Rudeness Of Phrase.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin And Farel.]

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

When speaking to Farel of his struggles, Calvin had from the first also
indicated the source of his strength and his victory. ‘I should be at no
loss for pretexts,’ he said, ‘which I might adroitly put forward, and
which would easily serve for excuses before men. But I know that it is
God with whom I have to do, and that artifices of that sort are not
right in his sight. Wouldst thou know my very thought, it is this—Were I
free to choose, I would do any thing in the world rather than what thou
requirest of me. But, when I remember that I am not in this matter my
own master, I PRESENT MY HEART AS A SACRIFICE AND OFFER IT UP TO THE
LORD.[91] _Having bound and chained my soul, I bring it under the
obedience of God._‘[92]

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

[Sidenote: Departure From Strasburg.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Arrival Of Calvin At Geneva.]

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

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

[Sidenote: What He Had Acquired At Strasburg.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Going Forward.]

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Colleagues.]

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

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

[Sidenote: A Day Of Humiliation.]

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

Footnote 79:

  Calvin to Viret, Strasburg, 25th July and 13th August, 1541. _Opp._
  xi. pp. 259, 262.

Footnote 80:

  Chron. MS. de Roset, book iv. ch. 18. Registers of the Council.
  Gautier. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, i. p. 304.

Footnote 81:

  ‘Non ignoratis in quos _tumultus et horrida scandala_ ab eo quo pii
  ministri nostri, magna quidem _injuria_, _tumultu_ et conspiratione
  potius quam judicii ordine, ab urbe nostra injuste profligati
  fuerunt.’—Archives of Geneva. Gautier, Hist. MS., p. 474. Calv. _Opp._
  xi. p. 227.

Footnote 82:

  ‘Unde ingentem piorum et proborum virorum turbam ad gemitum et
  lacrimas adegerunt.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 227.

Footnote 83:

  ‘Per eos rejecti qui propriam sectabantur concupiscentiam, potius quam
  Dei voluntatem.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 84:

  ‘Posteaquam factiosorum seditiosorumque hominum arte et
  machinationibus.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 222.

Footnote 85:

  ‘Nihil præter molestias, inimicitias, lites, contentiones,
  dissolutiones, seditiones, factiones et homicidia.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi.
  p. 222.

Footnote 86:

  ‘Cum hic velut ostium Galliæ, Italiæque simus.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p.
  122.

Footnote 87:

  The syndics were—J. A. Curtet, A. Baudière, Pernet-Desfosses, and
  Domaine d’Arlod.—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 152. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_,
  i. p. 320.

Footnote 88:

  Calv. _Opp._ xi. pp. 184, 186, 234.

Footnote 89:

  Calvin to Farel, March 1, 1541. ‘Sane me vehementer conturbarunt ac
  consternarunt tua fulgura. . . Ignosce quæso imprudentiæ meæ. . . .
  Spero te veniam daturum.’—_Opp._ xi. p. 170.

Footnote 90:

  Calvin, _Henry_, i. p. 395. Calvin on Acts, iv. 5.

Footnote 91:

  ‘Cor meum velut mactatum Domino in sacrificium offero.’—Calvin to
  Farel, Oct. or Nov. 1540. _Opp._ xi. p. 100.

Footnote 92:

  ‘Animum vinctum et constrictum subigo in obedientiam Dei.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 93:

  A seal of Calvin’s bears this motto, and the emblem is a hand
  presenting a heart to heaven.

Footnote 94:

  _Préface des Psaumes_, p. ix.

Footnote 95:

  Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 47. Calv. _Opp._ xi. pp. 97, 267,
  271, 273. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 309.

Footnote 96:

  Ruchat, v. pp. 164-167. Calvin to the lords of Geneva, _Lettres
  françaises_, i. p. 38. To the lords of Neuchâtel, _ibid._ pp. 39-43.
  Calv. _Opp._ xi. pp. 275-293. Registers of the Council for the day.

Footnote 97:

  Registers of the Council, August 29 and September 9. _De la Maison de
  Calvin_, by Th. Heyer. _Mémoires d’Archéologie_, ix. pp. 394, 403.

Footnote 98:

  _Préface des Psaumes_, p. 8.

Footnote 99:

  ‘Summa cum _universi_ populi ac senatus imprimis _singulare_ Dei erga
  se beneficium serio tunc agnoscentis _congratulatione_.’—Beza, _Vita
  Calvini_, p. 7.

Footnote 100:

  Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 47.

Footnote 101:

  ‘So durchzog er jetzt im _Triumph_ . . Er hielt _unter dem Jubel der
  Bevölkerung_ seinen _feierlichen Einzug_ in Genf . . _richtete an die
  versammelte Menge Worte_,’ &c.—Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i. p. 381.
  These flights of imagination are astonishing in a writer like
  Kampschulte. M. Roget, with reference to a passage of Henry, rejects
  as we do the idea of outward demonstrations.—_Peuple de Genève_, i. p.
  312.

Footnote 102:

  Heyer, _Mem d’Archéologie_, ix. pp. 396-398, 405, 406. The house of
  the abbé de Bonmont, in which Calvin first lived, is that in the Rue
  des Chanoines, which, as rebuilt in 1708 by the syndic Buisson, now
  bears the number 13, and belongs to M. Adrien Naville, president
  several times of the Société Evangélique and the Evangelical Alliance.

Footnote 103:

  Την πανοπλιαν τοῦ Θεοῦ. Ephes. vi. 11.

Footnote 104:

  Beza, _Vita Calvini_, ad finem.

Footnote 105:

  ‘Non posse consistere ecclesiam, nisi certum regimen constitueretur,’
  &c. Calvin to Farel, September 16, 1541. _Opp._ xi. p. 281.

Footnote 106:

  Goulaz was succeeded by Balard.—Calvin to Farel, Sep. 16, 1541. _Opp._
  xi. p. 281.

Footnote 107:

  ‘Mit fast kriechender Unterwürfigkeit . . sich so tief vor ihm
  erniedrigte.’—Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i. p. 385.

Footnote 108:

  ‘Sein Herrscherrecht über Genf . . ein von Gott selbst erklärter
  Glaubenssatz.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 109:

  The Genevese florin was rather more than half a franc in value. The
  salary of the reformer was therefore about 250 francs. But taking into
  account the higher value of money at that period, it may be reckoned
  that this sum would be equivalent at the present time to about 4,000
  francs (160_l._). This is the estimate of M. Franklin, of the Mazarin
  Library, and we think it is accurate.

Footnote 110:

  Registers of the day. Gautier, Hist. MS., 481.

Footnote 111:

  ‘Totus in eo erat ut et Viretum . . et Farellum collegas perpetuos
  haberet.’—Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 9.

Footnote 112:

  Calvin to Farel, Geneva, September 16, 1541. _Opp._ xi. p. 281. Calvin
  speaks thus with reference to Farel’s despondency.

Footnote 113:

  Comment on II. Cor. vii. 1; Gen. xvii. 1.

Footnote 114:

  ‘Calvin fühlte sich fast nur noch als Werkzeug in der Hand Gottes,
  . . . ohne jedes persönliche Zuthun.’—Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i.
  306.

Footnote 115:

  Roset, Chron. MS., book iv. chap. 53. Registers of October 26, 1541.

Footnote 116:

  Calvin on Ephes., iv. 15.




                             CHAPTER XXII.
                     THE ECCLESIASTICAL ORDINANCES.
                           (SEPTEMBER 1541.)


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

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

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

[Sidenote: Aim Of The Ordinances.]

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

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

‘In the name of God Almighty:

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Geneva An Evangelical Fortress.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The Ministry.]

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

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

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

            O vous, sur ces enfants, si chers, si précieux,
            Ministres du Seigneur, ayez toujours les yeux.[135]

[Sidenote: Schools And Charities.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Teachers.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Consistory.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Frequent Communion.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Supremacy Of The State.]

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

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

[Sidenote: State Control Of The Church.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Limits Of Calvin’s Responsibility.]

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

Footnote 117:

  Calvin to Bucer, October 15, 1541. _Opp._ xi. p. 299.

Footnote 118:

  Calvin to Bucer, Oct. 15, 1541.—_Opp._ xi. p. 299.

Footnote 119:

  In a letter to some anonymous correspondent Calvin speaks of about
  twenty days. ‘Intra viginti dies formulam composuimus.’ This passage
  cannot invalidate the other account, and is not far from agreeing with
  it.

Footnote 120:

  Registers of September 28.

Footnote 121:

  Calvin to Bucer, October 15, 1541. Registers of September 29.

Footnote 122:

  Registers, October 25 and 27; November 9 and 20, 1541; and January 2,
  1542. Roset, Chron. MS. book iv. ch. 50. Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 8.
  Gautier, book vi. p. 485. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 15; xi. p. 379.

Footnote 123:

  Calv. _Opp._ x. 15-30. Scheme of ecclesiastical ordinances. This
  introduction (p. 16) is found at the head of the ordinances in the
  Registers of the Venerable Company of Pastors, to which they were
  officially communicated.

Footnote 124:

  Memoir sent to the Council of Constance. See also _Pici Mirandulæ ad
  Leonem P. M. de Reformandis Moribus_.

Footnote 125:

  _Institution de la Religion Chrétienne_, book iii. ch. 6.

Footnote 126:

  Calvin on John xv. 4, 5.

Footnote 127:

  _Ordonnances ecclésiastiques._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 17.

Footnote 128:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 129:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 130:

  Pascal.

Footnote 131:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. pp. 19, 20.

Footnote 132:

  Proverbs, xxii. 6.

Footnote 133:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 28.

Footnote 134:

  _Ibid._ p. 28.

Footnote 135:

  Racine.—_Athalie._

Footnote 136:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 23.

Footnote 137:

  _Ibid._ p. 24.

Footnote 138:

  Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 27.

Footnote 139:

  _Ibid._ pp. 27 and 28.

Footnote 140:

  See, for these quotations, _Institution chrétienne_, book iv. ch. 3.
  sect. 15.

Footnote 141:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. Opp. x. p. 17.

Footnote 142:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 18.

Footnote 143:

  _Ibid._ pp. 31, 32.

Footnote 144:

  _Ibid._ p. 21.

Footnote 145:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. pp. 21, 22.

Footnote 146:

  _Ibid._ pp. 22, 23.

Footnote 147:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 22.

Footnote 148:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 17.

Footnote 149:

  Calvin on Matt. xxiv. 14.

Footnote 150:

  _Ordonnances_, Calv. x. pp. 20, 21. (The article of the Ordinances
  appears to say _five_, not _six_.) ‘On work-days, in addition to the
  two customary preachings, there shall be preaching at St. Peter’s
  three times a week, to wit, on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, before it
  begins at the other places.’—Editor.

Footnote 151:

  ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in
  the midst of them.’—Matt. xviii. 20.

Footnote 152:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. pp. 25, 26.

Footnote 153:

  _Ibid._ p. 22.

Footnote 154:

  _Ibid._ x. p. 29.

Footnote 155:

  _Ordonnances._—Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 30.

Footnote 156:

  _Introduction aux extraits des registres du consistoire de Genève_,
  1541-1814, by M. the Syndic Auguste Cramer. These autograph notes have
  not been printed.

Footnote 157:

  Registers of the Council of December 27, 1542.

Footnote 158:

  Roset, Chron. MS. de Genève, book iv. chap. 61. In the middle ages the
  name of Jesus took an _h_ (Jhesus or Jehesus). It was represented by
  the letters J H S, with a mark of abbreviation above them. These three
  letters were subsequently considered to be the initials of the formula
  JESUS HOMINUM SALVATOR.—Blavignac, Armorial Genevois. _Mémoires
  d’Archéologie_, vol. vi. p. 176.

Footnote 159:

  Roget, _L’Eglise et l’Etat_, Geneva, 1867, p. 7.

Footnote 160:

  Cramer, _Introduction aux extraits des registres du consistoire_.
  Geneva, 1853, p. 5.

Footnote 161:

  Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 21, note 4.

Footnote 162:

  _Ordonnances_, &c. Calv. _Opp._ x. pp. 16, 17, 21, 22, 29, 30.

Footnote 163:

  Registers of the Council, November 9, 1541.




                             CHAPTER XXIII.
                          CALVIN’S PREACHING.


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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Principal Office.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin’s Sermons.]

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

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

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

Calvin has a word about the young, which is still a word in season for
our day.

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

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

[Sidenote: Sermon To Worldlings.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Wandering Sheep.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Predestination.]

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

[Sidenote: Calvinism A Kind Of Madness.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin Not A Politician.]

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

Footnote 164:

  ‘Alternis hebdomadibus totis concionabator.’—Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p.
  8. Calvin’s letter to Myconius, Geneva, March 14, 1542. Calv. _Opp._
  xi. p. 337. _Ordonnances_, edit. of 1561. Bèze-Colladon, _Vie
  française de Calvin_, pp. 55, 56.

Footnote 165:

  ‘Multos ex Gallia et Italia.’—Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 9.

Footnote 166:

  _Ordonnances._—Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 17.

Footnote 167:

  Sayous, _Études sur les écrivains de la réformation_, i. p. 173.

Footnote 168:

  The title-page of the volume on Deuteronomy states—‘Taken down
  faithfully and _verbatim_, as M. Jean Calvin publicly preached them.’

Footnote 169:

  Kampschulte, _Joh. Calvin_, i. p. 406.

Footnote 170:

  _Vingt-deux Sermons de M. Jean Calvin sur le Psaume_ cxix. Geneva: by
  François Estienne, for Estienne Anastase, 1562, p. 38.

Footnote 171:

  _Vingt-deux Sermons_, &c—Second Sermon, pp. 26, 27.

Footnote 172:

  _Vingt-deux Sermons_, &c.—Second Sermon, pp. 41, 42.

Footnote 173:

  _Ibid._ Third Sermon, pp. 52, 53, 61, 62.

Footnote 174:

  _Vingt-deux Sermons_, &c.—Eighteenth Sermon, p. 368.

Footnote 175:

  _Vingt-deux Sermons_, &c.—Twentieth Sermon, pp. 405, 406.

Footnote 176:

  _Ibid._ Twenty-second Sermon, pp. 452, 453.

Footnote 177:

  _Sermons de J. Calvin sur les Epîtres de saint Paul à Timothé et à
  Tite_, 1561, p. 67, &c.

Footnote 178:

  Sainte-Beuve, _Port-Royal_, iii. p. 403.

Footnote 179:

  _Institution Chrétienne_, book III. ch. xxiii. § 8.

Footnote 180:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 181:

  _Institution Chrétienne_, ch. 21, § 1, 2.

Footnote 182:

  _Calvin d’après Calvin_, published by the Evangelical Alliance of
  Geneva for the third Jubilee of May 27, 1564, p. 28.




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


[Sidenote: State Of Mind At Geneva.]

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

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

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

    Ils suivaient du plaisir la pente trop aisée.

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

[Sidenote: Subjects Before The Consistory.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Impartiality.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Gentleness And Strength.]

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

[Sidenote: New Ministers.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Ami Porral.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Development Of Religious Life.]

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

[Sidenote: Pierre Tissot And His Mother.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Originators Of Reformation.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin, The Pilot.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Calvin As Mediator.]

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

Footnote 183:

  Cramer, _Extraits_ (autograph) _des régistres du Consistoire_.

Footnote 184:

  _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 188.

Footnote 185:

  Cramer, _Extraits_ (autograph) _des régistres du Consistoire_.

Footnote 186:

  Cramer, _Extraits des régistres du Consistoire_.

Footnote 187:

  Bonivard had to appear before the consistory for having one evening,
  at the lodging of Jean Hugonier, while waiting for supper, played at
  dice for a quart of wine with Clement Marot.—Roget, _Peuple de
  Genève_, ii. p. 29.

Footnote 188:

  Cramer, _Extraits des régistres du Consistoire_.

Footnote 189:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 190:

  Calvin on _Matt._ xviii. 6, 10.

Footnote 191:

  Cramer, _Extraits des régistres du Consistoire_.

Footnote 192:

  Calvin to Myconius, March 14, 1542.—‘Poteram quum veni magno plausu
  exagitare hostes nostros, et plenis velis invehi in totam illam
  nationem quæ nos læserat.’—_Opp._ xi. p. 378.

Footnote 193:

  Jac. Bernard, H. de la Mare, Aimé Champereau.—_Opp._ xi. p. 364.

Footnote 194:

  ‘Nostra mansuetudine et patientia efficimus.’—_Opp._ xi. p. 378.

Footnote 195:

  ‘Quam placido humanoque ingenio sit Viretus.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 196:

  ‘Machen dadurch auf den Leser einen oft geradezu unangenehmen
  Eindruck.’—Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, i. p. 390. It is this same
  historian who does justice to Calvin as above mentioned; and it may be
  said that the passage in which the sentence occurs makes the most
  agreeable impression of any in his book.

Footnote 197:

  ‘_Meine_ Milde und Geduld,’ Kampschulte makes Calvin say, as if he
  were referring to himself alone. It is no doubt an oversight on the
  part of the historian.

Footnote 198:

  To Bucer, Letter of October 15, 1541. To Myconius, Letter of March 14,
  1542.—_Opp._ xi. pp. 299, 377.

Footnote 199:

  Letter to Myconius of April 17, 1542.—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 384.

Footnote 200:

  _Genève ecclésiastique, ou Livre des spectables pasteurs et
  professeurs_, p. 6. Calvin to Viret, July 1542.—_Opp._ xi. p. 420.
  _Vie française de Calvin_, p. 54. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, ii. pp.
  40, 46.

Footnote 201:

  Grenus, _Fragments historiques_, p. 8.

Footnote 202:

  Calvin to Farel.—_Opp._ xi. p. 408.

Footnote 203:

  ‘Vidi et manu tetigi salutare illud. . .’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. p. 409.

Footnote 204:

  ‘Novo prorsus spiritu tunc donatum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 205:

  Calvin to Viret, July, 1542.—_Opp._ xi. p. 420.

Footnote 206:

  ‘Et spes in posterum amplius affulget si mihi reliquatur
  Viretus.’—Calv. _Opp._ xi. pp. 322, 377.

Footnote 207:

  Cramer, _Extraits des régistres du Consistoire_. Calvin on _Matt._ v.
  9.

Footnote 208:

  _Ezek._ iii. 9.

Footnote 209:

  Works of Zwinglius, vi. pp. 340, 427.

Footnote 210:

  _Institution Chrétienne_, book ii. ch. 3, 4.

Footnote 211:

  We set forth several of these examples in a discourse delivered
  September 6, 1861, in the church of St. Peter, Geneva, at the general
  conferences of the Evangelical Alliance.

Footnote 212:

  Dedication of the Commentary on the Epistle of Titus.

Footnote 213:

  ‘Ne decem quidem maria ad eam rem trajicere pigeat.’—Calv. _Epp._ to
  Cranmer; edit. 1575, p. 100.




                               BOOK XII.
  THE REFORMATION AMONG THE SCANDINAVIAN NATIONS: DENMARK, SWEDEN, AND
                                NORWAY.




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


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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: John Tausen.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Tidings From Germany.]

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

[Sidenote: Tausen At Wittenberg.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Christian II.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Murder Of The Swedish Nobles.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Burlesque Of Reinhard.]

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

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

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

The first of these calls was unacceptable, and the second was
unfortunate.

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

[Sidenote: Code Of Christian II.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Carlstadt In Denmark.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Renewed Revolt Of The Swedes.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Death Of Queen Isabella.]

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

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

Footnote 214:

  ‘Quanquam nee parentum rusticorum quippe conditio, nec rei familiaris
  inopia permitterent ut ad literarum studia applicaret
  animum.’—Gerdesius, _Annales Reformationis_, iii. p. 355.

Footnote 215:

  ‘In studia propensionem ab infantia vehementem.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 216:

  Bröndlund, _Memoria J. Tausani_. Munter, _Kirchengeschichte von
  Dänemark_, i. p. 73.

Footnote 217:

  ‘Adiret universitatem excepta sola atque unica
  Witebergensi.’—Gerdesius, _Annal. Reform_, iii. p. 356. Munter, iii.
  p. 74.

Footnote 218:

  ‘Nugarum et ineptiarum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 219:

  Gerdesius, _Annales Reformationis_, iii. p. 356. Munter, iii. p. 74.

Footnote 220:

  Olivarus, _Hist. de Vita P. Eliæ carmel_.—Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. p.
  329.

Footnote 221:

  Gamst, _De Petro Parvo Rosæfontano_. He was called in Danish, instead
  of _Parvus_, Litle, which was converted into _Lille_, the name by
  which he is best known.—Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. p. 341.

Footnote 222:

  See the documents collected by Gram, _Om Kong Christiern den Anderns
  forehafte Reformation_. Mallet, _Hist. du Danemark_, tom. iii.

Footnote 223:

  Suaningius, _Christianus II._ Mallet, _Hist. du Danemark_, vol. iii.
  Raumer, _Geschichte Europas_, ii. p. 100.

Footnote 224:

  Pontoppidan, _Kirchenhist._ book vi. ch 3. Munter, iii. p. 12.

Footnote 225:

  [On the author’s manuscript appears this note: ‘_Add some details from
  the documents._’ This intention was not carried out. The details are
  wanting.—EDITOR.]

Footnote 226:

  Suaningius, _Vita Christierni II._ Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. p. 342.

Footnote 227:

  ‘Ex jussu principis vocatus huc venit.’—Matriculation-Book of the
  Faculty of Theology of Copenhagen.

Footnote 228:

  Scultetus, _Hist. Litt. Reform._ i. p. 33.

Footnote 229:

  ‘Ut ludibrio sannisque exceptus fuerit.‘—Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. p.
  343.

Footnote 230:

  ‘Omnibus conviviis et symposiis adhibitus, de rebus levissimis
  ridiculisque conciones habuit. . . ita ut Martinum ipsum adesse vulgo
  esset persuasum.’—Huitfeld, _Chron. Dan._ ii. p. 1152. Suaningius,
  _Vita Christierni II._

Footnote 231:

  Documents of Gram, p. 2. Resen, _Lutherus triumphans_, ad an. 1521.

Footnote 232:

  ‘Rex Daniæ etiam persequitur Papistas, mandato dato universitati suæ
  ne mea damnarent.’—Luther, _Epp._ i. p. 570. (De Wette.)

Footnote 233:

  ‘Archiepiscopum vero equitantem viginti juvenes cum equis
  prosequantur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 347.

Footnote 234:

  Schlegel, _Geschichte der oldemb. Könige in Dänemark_, i. p. 107.
  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 48.

Footnote 235:

  Suaningius, _Christianus II._

Footnote 236:

  ‘Mense Octobri inscriptus est in matriculam academiæ ad theologicæ
  facultatis professionem.’—Resen, _Lutherus triumphans_, ad an. 521.
  Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. p. 356.

Footnote 237:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, p. 79. Mallet, iii. p. 420.

Footnote 238:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 82. Raumer, ii. p. 116. Mallet,
  iii. p. 595.

Footnote 239:

  Raumer, _Geschichte Europas_, ii. p. 142.

Footnote 240:

  ‘Christiernus Lutherum diu concionantem audit.’—Scultetus, _Ann._ i.
  p. 52.

Footnote 241:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 84.

Footnote 242:

  Spalatin, _Leben Friedrichs des Weisen_, p. 137.

Footnote 243:

  ‘Magna fide excessit accepta cœna Domini.’—Luther, _Opp._ ii. p. 93.
  (De Wette.)

Footnote 244:

  Seckendorf, _Hist. des Lutherthums_, pp. 600, 722.




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


[Sidenote: Frederick, Duke Of Holstein.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Frederick’s Liberal Leanings.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The King’s Son In Germany.]

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

[Sidenote: The King’s Declaration Of Faith.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Tausen At Viborg.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Reform At Copenhagen.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Tausen In Prison.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Progress Of Reform At Malmoe.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Invitation To Eck And Cochlaeus.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Royal Ordinances.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footnote 245:

  Schlegel, _Geschichte des Oldenburgischen Stammes_, i. p. 53.

Footnote 246:

  ‘Ut doctrina evangelica per Lutheri quosdam discipulos Cimbrorum
  animis instillaretur indulserat.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 353.

Footnote 247:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte von Dänemark und Norwegen_, iii. pp. 101,
  145.

Footnote 248:

  ‘Propriæ virtutis vestræ memores qua Lutheranam hæresin ferro et
  gladio persequendam semper duxistis.’—Raynaldi, _Ann._ 1525, No. 29.
  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 115.

Footnote 249:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 592.

Footnote 250:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 565.

Footnote 251:

  Michelsen’s Preface. See Henderson’s ‘Dissertation on Mikkelsen’s
  Translation.’ Dänische Bibliothek, i. p. 120. Munter,
  _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. pp. 128-144. Gerdesius, _Annales
  Reformationis_, iii. pp. 356-362.

Footnote 252:

  Olivarii _Vita Pauli Eliæ_, p. 169. Munter, iii. p. 142.

Footnote 253:

  Munter, iii. pp. 560, 585, 599.

Footnote 254:

  A: M. Mallet, _Histoire de Danemark_, iv. p. 27. Munter,
  _Kirchengeschicte_, iii., p. 169. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 360.

Footnote 255:

  ‘Quantum huc usque a vera salutis via deflexerant
  monstrando.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 357.

Footnote 256:

  ‘Virium humanarum defectum, omniumque bonorum operum indigentiam
  monstrans.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ p. 357.

Footnote 257:

  ‘Occæcatos pontificia superstitione superiores totos in se
  armaret’—_Ibid._ and _Dan. Bibl._, i. p. 5.

Footnote 258:

  Luther, _Opp._ xxii. (Walch) von der Beruf, p. 2378 et seq.

Footnote 259:

  Gerdesius, iii. p. 358.

Footnote 260:

  Schlegel, _Geschichte des Oldenburgischen Stammes_, i. p. 148. Munter,
  iii. p. 101.

Footnote 261:

  Munter, iii. p. 161.

Footnote 262:

  Gerdesius, iii. _Monum._, p. 202.

Footnote 263:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 171. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  354.

Footnote 264:

  Gerdesius (iii. p. 626) calls him—Nicolaus Martini cognomine
  Tondebinder; and says in a note—Claus Martensen dictus Vascularius.

Footnote 265:

  Munter, iii. p. 190.

Footnote 266:

  Munter, iii. p. 191.

Footnote 267:

  _Danske Magazin_, ch. iii. p. 236, et seq. Munter,
  _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 222.

Footnote 268:

  Gerdesius, iii. p. 411. Munter, iii. p. 503.

Footnote 269:

  Rabbek, _De ecclesiæ Danicæ hymnariis_.

Footnote 270:

  ‘Latronum speluncam, desperatorum et apostatarum
  asylum.’—_Schibbyische Chronik._ Munter, iii. pp. 226, 255.

Footnote 271:

  _Danske Magazin_, v. pp. 289, 312.

Footnote 272:

  Gerdesius, iii. _Monum._ pp. 204, 206. Pontoppidanus, _Ann. Eccles.
  Dan._ ii. pp. 808, 817. Munter, iii. p. 195.

Footnote 273:

  ‘Nisi ut spectetur non hominum sed Christi negotium.’—Erasmi, _Epp._
  1. xix. Munter, iii. p. 196.

Footnote 274:

  ‘Religionem tam Lutheranam quam Pontificiam libere permittendam
  esse.’—Pontoppidanus, _Reform._ p. 172. Gerdesius, iii. p. 364.

Footnote 275:

  Tertullian adds, ‘_Religio sponte suscipi debet_.’

Footnote 276:

  ‘Manibus pedibusque agebant.’—Gerdesius, iii. p. 364.

Footnote 277:

  Munter, _Reformationgeschichte_, iii. p. 205.

Footnote 278:

  Pontoppidanus, _Reform._ p. 175. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 365.

Footnote 279:

  Munter, iii. pp. 209, 211.




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


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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Tausen Called To Copenhagen.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Diet Of Copenhagen.]

The opening of the Diet was fixed for the 20th of July, 1530.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Confession Of Faith.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Reply Of The Evangelicals.]

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

[Sidenote: The Two Parties.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Appeal To The King.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Progress Of The Gospel.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Intrigues Of Christian II.]

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

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

[Sidenote: His Invasion Repulsed.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Christian A Prisoner Of State.]

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

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

It was, therefore, resolved to secure the person of Christian.[323]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Death Of Frederick.]

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

Footnote 280:

  Munter, iii. p. 230.

Footnote 281:

  _Historia ejectionis monachorum e Dania_, in Pontoppidanus, _Ann._ ii.
  p. 821.

Footnote 282:

  ‘Her haffive . . Klawemaal. En rett christelig Fadzon, &c.—Wiborg,
  1528. Munter, iii. p. 233.

Footnote 283:

  Munter, iii. p. 250.

Footnote 284:

  Munter, iii. pp. 255, 256, 273.

Footnote 285:

  ‘Si quidem religio vera debuerit esse antiquissima.’—Gerdesius, iii.
  p. 372.

Footnote 286:

  ‘Veritatis antehac obscuratæ atque detectæ majori cum perspicuitate,
  soliditate et eloquentia inculcarentur.’—Gerdesius, iii. p. 372.

Footnote 287:

  G. Sadolin’s _Bericht vom Reichstage in Kopenhagen_, 1530.

Footnote 288:

  ‘At vero hi erant ante victoriam triumphi.’—Gerdesius, iii. p. 375.

Footnote 289:

  ‘Aristotelicos doctores, magistros et monachos.’—_Ibid._ p. 376.
  _Danske Magazin_, i. p. 94.

Footnote 290:

  Munter, iii. p. 297. Gerdesius, vi. p. 376.

Footnote 291:

  Munter, iii. p. 299.

Footnote 292:

  ‘Nullis interpretationibus, additamentis et commentis humanis
  corrupta.’ The confession of faith was drawn up in Danish, but we
  quote from the Latin translation made in the seventeenth century by
  Pontanus. This document appears to us too important to be entirely
  omitted.—Gerdesius, iii. _Monum._ p. 247. Munter, iii. p. 308.

Footnote 293:

  The fourth article relates to the Trinity; the fifth to the
  incarnation and birth of the Son of God.

Footnote 294:

  ‘Debiti solutionem, expiationem et satisfactionem pro peccatis nostris
  omnibus.’

Footnote 295:

  ‘Maledicit iis quibus Deus benedicit, rejicit eos quos Deus recipit.’

Footnote 296:

  ‘Diaboli dogma est.’

Footnote 297:

  ‘In quâ ejus corpus editur ac sanguis ejus potatur in certum pignus.’

Footnote 298:

  ‘Veri episcopi sive presbyteri, quæ voces sunt prorsus
  synonymæ.’—(Art. 36.)

Footnote 299:

  Woldike, _Confessio Hafniensis_.

Footnote 300:

  Muhlius, _De Reformatione in Cimbria_, p. 140. Gerdesius, iii.
  _Monumenta_, p. 232.

Footnote 301:

  ‘Hominem liberum arbitrium non habere, et ea quæ in mundo fiunt ita
  fieri ut aliter fieri non possint.’—Gerdesius, iii. _Monum._ p. 232.

Footnote 302:

  _Apologia concionatorum Evangelicorum._—_Ibid._ p. 234.

Footnote 303:

  The reference is doubtless to pagan Russians, Mongols, &c.—Munter,
  iii. p. 325.

Footnote 304:

  ‘Sacrilego principe non solum connivente, verum etiam instigante . . .
  . . debacchati sunt concionatores Lutherani.’—_Chron. Schibbyens_.
  Munter, iii. p. 330.

Footnote 305:

  _Danske Magazin_, i. p. 94.

Footnote 306:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 332.

Footnote 307:

  Calvin.

Footnote 308:

  ‘Stupidis, indoctis et profanis. . . qui fabulas hominum inventiones,
  monachorum somnia et hypocriticas anilesque nugas et gerras populo
  Christiano pro more papistarum proponunt.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  383.

Footnote 309:

  ‘Aber von dem was einige von ihnen selbst sind, davon sprechen wir
  jetzt nicht.’—Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 334.

Footnote 310:

  _Danske Magazin_, i. p. 95.

Footnote 311:

  _Misopogon_, p. 363.

Footnote 312:

  Munter, iii. p. 336.

Footnote 313:

  ‘Et quantis in tenebris hactenus delituissent
  perspicerent.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 386.

Footnote 314:

  Munter, iii. pp. 355, 364.

Footnote 315:

  Jacobi, _Historia ejectionis monachorum_. MS. quoted in Munter, iii.
  357.

Footnote 316:

  Munter, iii. pp. 369-370.

Footnote 317:

  Raynald, _ann._ 1530, No. 58. Munter, iii. p. 86. Raumer, ii. p. 144.

Footnote 318:

  ‘Adverso numine et certantibus contra ventis.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 390.

Footnote 319:

  Geijer, _Schwedensgeschichte_, ii. p. 81.

Footnote 320:

  Opzlo, the former capital of Norway, burnt in 1624, forms at this day
  the most ancient part of Christiania.

Footnote 321:

  Raumer, ii. p. 146. Mallet, vi. p. 116.

Footnote 322:

  ‘Epist. Christ. II. ad Regem Fredericum.’—Huitfeld, _Dänische
  Chronik_, p. 1378.

Footnote 323:

  _Schybbiense Chronicon_, p. 589. Holberg, ii. p. 261. Mallet, vi. p.
  117, &c.

Footnote 324:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 82.

Footnote 325:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 390. Mallet, _Histoire du Danemark_, vi. p.
  125. Schlegel, p. 133.

Footnote 326:

  Luther, _Epp._ iv. p. 403 (de Wette).

Footnote 327:

  ‘Lugentibus omnibus bonis qui gravissimam in morte regis optimi
  jacturam faciebant.’—Gerdesius, Ann. iii. p. 391. Huitfeld,
  _Dän.-Chronik_, p. 1393.

Footnote 328:

  Charles Frederick, duke of Holstein-Gottorp, married Anna Petrowna,
  daughter of Peter the Great, and her son, Charles Peter Ulric, was
  chosen by the empress Elizabeth, his aunt, to succeed her. He ascended
  the throne in 1762, under the name of Peter III., and had for his wife
  the famous Catherine II. The emperors descended from this prince are
  Paul I., Alexander I., Nicholas I., and Alexander II.




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


[Sidenote: Prince Christian.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The Electoral Diet.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Adjournment Of The Election.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Popular Rising At Copenhagen.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Bishop Roennov Threatened.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Persecution Of Evangelicals.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Invasion Of The Lubeckers.]

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

[Sidenote: Escape Of The King’s Friends.]

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

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

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

Footnote 329:

  The author appears to have written _deux ans_, but owing to the rather
  hieroglyphic character of his handwriting, we can almost as well read
  _dix_ as _deux_. Raumer (ii. p. 148) says:—‘Johann erst zwölf jahre
  alt,’ child of twelve years: but this must be a mistake, because
  Frederick reigned from 1523 to 1533, and John was born after the
  accession of his father. See also p. 199 infra. (Editor.)

Footnote 330:

  ‘Ut religio evangelica . . opprimeretur et vetus illa restitueretur
  sacrorum pontificiorum ratio.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 391.

Footnote 331:

  ‘Invecti graviter in ministros novæ religionis.’—_Ibid._ p. 392.

Footnote 332:

  ‘Ita enim eviluisse antistitum auctoritatem.’—_Ibid._ p. 393.

Footnote 333:

  ‘Aliisque pœnis atrocioribus in pervicaces
  animadvertendum.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 393.

Footnote 334:

  ‘Magnitudine periculi vehementer sunt turbati.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 335:

  ‘Partam ei libertatem rege volente, non nisi rege in contrarium
  sciscente puto eripi posse.’—_Ibid._ p. 394.

Footnote 336:

  ‘Multa antistitum astu erant interpolata.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  394. Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iv. p. 394. Pontoppidan, p. 263.

Footnote 337:

  _Danske Magazin_, iii. p. 106. Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iv. p.
  399. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 395.

Footnote 338:

  ‘Cum Taussanus in pontificiorum oculis sudes esset,’ &c.—_Ibid._

Footnote 339:

  ‘At senatores et reliqui magistratus plebeii _Taussani_ apud
  antistites _supplicium_ deprecantur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ ii. p. 397.

Footnote 340:

  ‘Plebs forum tumultu ac clamoribus implet; indignari enim et
  fremere.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 397.

Footnote 341:

  ‘Audiebantur voces restitui Taussanum flagitantium.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 342:

  ‘Irent igitur pacati domum, et res suas agerent.’—_Ibid._, p. 398.

Footnote 343:

  ‘Inclamant exhibendum Taussanum aut se fores molituros.’—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii. p. 398.

Footnote 344:

  ‘Taussani mansuetudo turbidos compescuit.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  398.

Footnote 345:

  Huitfield, _Dän. Chronik_, ii. p. 1402 _et seq._ Munter,
  _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 406 _et seq._ Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  398.

Footnote 346:

  ‘Edita amissionem vitæ et bonorum profitentibus Lutheri doctrinam
  denunciantia.’ (Chytræi _Saxonia_, lib. xiv. p. 362; Munter,
  _Kirchengeschicte_, iii. p. 408.)

Footnote 347:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 411.

Footnote 348:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. pp. 414, 415, 429; Gerdesius, _Ann._
  ii. p. 400.

Footnote 349:

  _Expostulatio adversus exilii sententiam._—_Dialogus missæ papisticæ
  extremum spiritum trahentis._—_De vigiliis superstitiosis._—_Centum et
  septuaginta quæstiones, &c. &c._—Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p.
  431.

Footnote 350:

  _Dänske Magazin_, iii. p. 72. Mallet, _Hist. de Danemark_, iv. p. 201.
  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 435.

Footnote 351:

  Hamelman, _Oldenburgische Chronik_, p. 327. Mallet, _Hist. de
  Danemark_, iv. p. 201.




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


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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Lubeckers Repulsed.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The King’s Entry Into Copenhagen.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Arrest Of The Bishops.]

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

[Sidenote: Charges Against The Bishops.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Liberation Of The Bishops.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Constitution Of The Church.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Bishops Of Iceland.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Oddur’s New Testament.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Bishop Aresen.]

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

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

Footnote 352:

  ‘Qui non regem se populo obtrudere volebat, quin potius ab ipso populo
  ad regnum advocari cupiebat.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 401.

Footnote 353:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ Mallet, _Hist._ &c.

Footnote 354:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schweden_, ii. p. 87.

Footnote 355:

  The white bâton distinguished those who were pardoned from those who
  surrendered at discretion. In the _Histoire Universelle_ of Théodore
  Agrippa d’Aubigné, iii. p. 35, we read, on occasion of a victory of
  Lesdiguières:—‘Les soldats de Gascogne _rendus au baston blanc_, ceux
  de pays _à discretion_.’

Footnote 356:

  This war is called in Denmark ‘_die Grafenfehde_,’ war of the Count;
  and this name has become a proverbial expression to designate a great
  calamity.

Footnote 357:

  _Rerum Danicarum Scriptores_, pp. 65-75. Hamelman, _Oldenburgische
  Chronik_, pp. 327-340. Mallet, iv. pp. 242, 323. _Histoire
  Universelle_ of Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné.

Footnote 358:

  Job xii. 19.

Footnote 359:

  ‘Super laquearia in fœdum latibulum conscenderat.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 405. ‘Auf einem Balken unter seinem Dache.’—Munter,
  _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 449.

Footnote 360:

  ‘Antistes Arusiensis (Ove Bilde, the bishop of Aarhuus)
  castellum Silkeburgicum dedi non patiebatur, quantum vis acriter
  Rantzovius id oppugnaret, sed per Johannem Stugium contra vim
  defendebat.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. pp. 404-406, where these
  several arrests are narrated.

Footnote 361:

  ‘Cum nobilitate cives ex plebe urbana æque atque ru tica delecti
  convocabantur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 406.

Footnote 362:

  ‘Ipse exoptasset se in diabolum transformari,’ &c.—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 407. Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 456.

Footnote 363:

  ‘Dissentientes nedum ut vi contra conscientiam adigantur . . .
  reddituros ipsos Deo fidei rationem.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 407.

Footnote 364:

  See vol. v. p. 413. The assembly of May 21, at Geneva.

Footnote 365:

  Nye, _Danske Magazin_, i. 240; in Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p.
  458.

Footnote 366:

  ‘Regem coronavit et reginam quasi verus episcopus.’—Luther, _Epp._ v.
  p. 87. De Wette.

Footnote 367:

  ‘Taussanus constitutus est episcopus Ripensis, præsente Rege et sex
  reliquis episcopis.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 412.

Footnote 368:

  ‘Ordinatio ecclesiastica,’ &c.—Hafniæ, 1537. Chytræi, _Saxonia_, xv.
  p. 379. Grammius, _Additam. ad historiam Cragii_, ii. p. 29.

Footnote 369:

  _Descriptio Norvegiæ_, p. 34.

Footnote 370:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 515, seq.

Footnote 371:

  Vol. III. (First Series), book x. chap. vi., and this volume.

Footnote 372:

  Finni Johannæi, _H. E. Islandiæ_, ii. p. 491, seq.

Footnote 373:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 533.

Footnote 374:

  _Danske Magazin_, iii. p. 242. Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p.
  534.

Footnote 375:

  Munter, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. pp. 542, seq.




                              CHAPTER VI.
                   THE EARLIEST REFORMERS OF SWEDEN.
                              (1516-1523.)


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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf And Lawrence Peterson.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf At Wittenberg.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Funeral Of Olaf’s Father.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Bishop Brask.]

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

Footnote 376:

  This psychology of nations is expounded in M. de Rougemont’s _Précis
  d’ethnographie de statistique et de géographie historique_.

Footnote 377:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen der dreien Schwedischen
  Reformatoren_, p. 26.

Footnote 378:

  Maltebrun.

Footnote 379:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen der dreien Schwedischen
  Reformatoren_, pp. 26, 32. Reuterdahl, _History of the Church of
  Sweden_ (in Swedish), 1866. Anjou, _Histoire de la Réformation de
  Suède_, 1850. We regret that we could only partially avail ourselves,
  in the progress of our labors, of the information contained in the
  last two works, both of them of considerable importance.

Footnote 380:

  Scheffer, _De Memorabilibus Suecicæ gentis_, p. 159.

Footnote 381:

  _Prophéties merveilleuses de sainte Brigitte_, Lyon, 1536.

Footnote 382:

  Reuterdahl, Schinmeier, Anjou, Schroeckh, _Theol. Encyclopädie_.

Footnote 383:

  ‘Evangelicæ doctrinæ semina per varios mercatores Germanos jam
  instillata.’—Gerdesius, _Annal. Reform._ iii. p. 285.

Footnote 384:

  ‘Stultos quosdam senes . . ut malint barbariem perpetuam regnare.’
  ...—_Eliæ epistola ad Petrum canonicum._

Footnote 385:

  Reuterdahl, _History of the Church of Sweden_, iv. p. 172.

Footnote 386:

  Ziegler’s _Erzählung_ in Freh. _Scr._ iii. p. 149. Schinmeier,
  _Lebensbeschreibung_, p. 30.

Footnote 387:

  Contentionem scholasticam, magno sæpe cum impetu agitatam.’—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii p. 286.

Footnote 388:

  Schinmeier, _Die drei Reformatoren_, pp. 31, 32.

Footnote 389:

  Schinmeier, pp. 32, 33.

Footnote 390:

  Celsius, _Geschichte Gustavs des Ersten_, i. p. 208. Schinmeier, pp.
  33, 34.




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


[Sidenote: Gustavus Vasa.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: His Wanderings.]

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

[Sidenote: Gustavus In The Mountains.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Gustavus At Ornaes.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Pursuit Of Gustavus.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Gustavus Captain Of The Communes.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Gustavus Proclaimed King.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Anderson Made Chancellor.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Schemes Of The Romanists.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Bishop Brask.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footnote 391:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. pp. 4, 5.

Footnote 392:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. pp. 4, 5. Schlegel, p. 105.

Footnote 393:

  Clem. Rensel’s _Bericht._ Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 9.

Footnote 394:

  Clem. Rensel’s _Bericht._ Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 13.
  Raumer, ii. p. 120.

Footnote 395:

  _Skibyense Chron._ p. 570. _Olai Chronica_, p. 348.

Footnote 396:

  This building, by ordinance of April 26, 1668, was consecrated as a
  royal monument.

Footnote 397:

  This house has been preserved, with some figures representing Gustavus
  and other persons, and is shown to strangers.

Footnote 398:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 13.

Footnote 399:

  Near the church of Mora is shown the spot where Gustavus addressed the
  people.

Footnote 400:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. pp. 15-17.

Footnote 401:

  Von Troil, _Verhandlung zur Reformations-Geschichte Schwedens_, iv. p.
  356.

Footnote 402:

  Celsius, _Leben Gustavs_, i. p. 139.

Footnote 403:

  ‘Veritatis luce ac radiis tactus.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 287.

Footnote 404:

  ‘Præsertim contra decreta S. Romani ecclesiæ.’—Brask to the Bishop of
  Skara, 12th July, 1523.

Footnote 405:

  ‘Ut status modernæ ecclesiæ reducatur ad mendicitatem et statum
  ecclesiæ primitivæ.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 406:

  ‘Pullulare incipit hæresis illa Lutherana.’—Brask to the Bishop of
  Skara, 12th July, 1523.

Footnote 407:

  Spegel, _Schriftliche Beweise_, 16 August, 1540.

Footnote 408:

  ‘Palam id prodere velle, res periculo plenissima.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 287.

Footnote 409:

  Raynal, _Anecdotes de l’Europe_.

Footnote 410:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibung_, p. 40.

Footnote 411:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 43.

Footnote 412:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, pp. 42, 43.

Footnote 413:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, pp. 43, 44, 45.




                             CHAPTER VIII.
                               STRUGGLES.
                              (1524-1527.)


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

[Sidenote: Iconoclasts At Stockholm.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf’s Marriage.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Translations Of The Scriptures.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Ostentation Of Magnus.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The Primate And The King.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf And Galle.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Irritation Of Parties.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: A Pretender.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Resolution Of Gustavus.]

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

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

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

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

Footnote 414:

  ‘Ein junger Mensch, der darüber frohlockte, war vom Pöbel
  zerrissen.’—Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, p. 49.

Footnote 415:

  ‘Ejecerant organa musica, statuas et imagines,’ &c.—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 289.

Footnote 416:

  ‘Quum id occasionem præberet sacrificulis magnam excitandi
  tempestatem,’ &c.—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 290.

Footnote 417:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 54.

Footnote 418:

  ‘_Thierischen Ausschweifungen._‘—Schinmeier, p. 56. ‘Scortis
  multifariis.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 291.

Footnote 419:

  _Een liten Underwisning om Ecktenskapet._—Stockholm, 1528.

Footnote 420:

  ‘Quippe quum Novi Testamenti Scripta omnium manibus
  tererentur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 291.

Footnote 421:

  ‘Inviti aggrediebantur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 292.

Footnote 422:

  ‘Die Klerisey erschrak.’—Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibung_, p. 57.

Footnote 423:

  ‘Weit prächtiger und überflüssiger als der König selbst.’—Schinmeier,
  _Lebensbeschreibung_, p. 58.

Footnote 424:

  ‘Gustav sprach, zu Pferde sitzend, auf einer der Upsala
  Hügel.’—Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 55.

Footnote 425:

  ‘Unsere Gnaden trinken Eurer Gnaden zu.’ ‘Deine Gnaden und Unsere
  Gnaden haben nicht Raum unter einem Dache.’—Geijer, iii. p. 55.
  Schinmeier, p. 60.

Footnote 426:

  ‘Ut tempestatem in se intentam si pote amolirentur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 292.

Footnote 427:

  ‘Cum theologi consuessent eos omnes qui non in omnibus secum
  conspirarent statim hæreseos accusare.’—_Ibid._ p. 293.

Footnote 428:

  ‘Eo responso commotior factus archiepiscopus.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 429:

  The Abbé Vertot, p. 61.

Footnote 430:

  This disputation is handed down to us in the _Acta Colloquii
  Upsaliensis habiti_ an. 1526. These Acts are to be found in the
  _Monumenta_ or _Appendix_ of vol. iii. of the _Ann._ of Gerdesius, pp.
  153-181.

Footnote 431:

  ‘In constitutionibus Patrum a S. Scriptura dissentientibus etiam nos
  discedimus ab illis.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. Appendix, p. 155.

Footnote 432:

  ‘Utrum homo salvetur meritis suis an sola gratia Dei?‘—_Ibid._ p. 167.

Footnote 433:

  ‘Apparitiones indies novæ visuntur,’ &c.—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  Appendix, p. 173.

Footnote 434:

  ‘Gaudens fallacibus novitatibus, tædio verbi Dei.’—_Ibid._ p. 174.

Footnote 435:

  ‘Ut religiosi lectores possent cognoscere utra pars veritatem
  detenderet.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 295. Raumer, ii. p. 125.

Footnote 436:

  ‘Non laicis aut plebi.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 299.

Footnote 437:

  ‘Romam mittere . . non convincendos, sed ferro et igne
  comburendos.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 438:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibung_, pp. 59, 60.

Footnote 439:

  ‘Qui gladium et aratrum, bellum et pacem, mortem et vitam in æquo
  ponunt.’—Joh. Magnus, _Præfatio ad Historiam Gothicam_, p. 11, in
  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 304.

Footnote 440:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 58.

Footnote 441:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 303. Seckendorf, _Hist. Luther_, p. 835.

Footnote 442:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, pp. 11-13.

Footnote 443:

  ‘Sie entfärbten sich, zeigten ihre Bitterkeit im Gesichte,’
  &c.—Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, p. 69. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 305. Geijer, ii. p. 60.




                              CHAPTER IX.
                                VICTORY.
                                (1527.)


[Sidenote: Secret Meeting Of The Bishops.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The Diet Of 1527.]

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

[Sidenote: Suppression Of Abuses.]

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

[Sidenote: Abdication Of Gustavus.]

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

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

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

                  Du loisir d’un héros nobles amusements.

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Deputations To The King.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Return Of Gustavus.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Compact Of Westeraas.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Suppression Of The Rebellion.]

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

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

Footnote 444:

  ‘Omnibus suis exutos videri castellis et arcibus.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._
  iii. p. 306.

Footnote 445:

  ‘Sich im Streite andrer Waffen als einer Wachkerze bedienen.’—Geijer,
  ii. p. 62.

Footnote 446:

  ‘Iisque qui alieni laboris fructu ad suas voluptates abutebantur.’
  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 307.

Footnote 447:

  ‘Non sine quadam animi commotione.’—_Ibid._ p. 308.

Footnote 448:

  ‘Es möchte die Axt uns in Genick sitzen.’—Geijer, ii. p. 64.

Footnote 449:

  ‘In solche Bewegung sprach, dass ihm die Thränen aus den Augen
  stürzten.’—Geijer, and Raumer, _Geschichte Europas_, ii. p. 131.

Footnote 450:

  ‘Cum suis per integrum triduum convivari.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  309.

Footnote 451:

  Geijer, ii. p. 65.

Footnote 452:

  Geijer, ii. p. 65. Raumer, ii. p. 132.

Footnote 453:

  ‘Es fehlte wenig dass die gemeinen Leute seine Füsse küssten.’—Geijer,
  ii. p. 65.

Footnote 454:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._, iii. pp. 311-313. Geijer, ii. pp. 66, 67.

Footnote 455:

  ‘Introducentes in solium regni quandoque externos reges.’—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii. p. 313.

Footnote 456:

  ‘Rex jam non clam sed palam se doctrinæ evangelicæ esse addictum
  profiteri.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 317.

Footnote 457:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 312. Raumer, ii. p. 133. Geijer, ii. p. 68.
  Schinmeier, p. 73.

Footnote 458:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 318. Schinmeier, p. 76.




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


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

[Sidenote: The Synod At Orebro.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Ecclesiastical Rites.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Obstacles To Reformation.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Progress.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Lawrence Petersen.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Infringement Of Religious Freedom.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf’s Grievances.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Mock Suns.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Charges Against Olaf And Anderson.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Olaf’s Sermon.]

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

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

[Sidenote: George Normann.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Excuses For Severity.]

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

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

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

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

Footnote 459:

  ‘Ut de toto reformationis negotio plenius definiretur,’ &c.—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii. p. 319.

Footnote 460:

  Rom. xv. 1.

Footnote 461:

  _Contra Latomum._

Footnote 462:

  ‘Ut voluntas Dei in verbo ejus revelata patefiat auditoribus
  nostris.’—_Forma Reformationis in consilio Orebrogensi definita._ This
  document is given in the Appendix to Gerdesius iii. p. 193.

Footnote 463:

  ‘Id modeste et primo privatim agant.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 197.

Footnote 464:

  ‘Ut inculcent in memoriam facta Christi qui pro nobis passus est et
  resurrexit.’—_Ibid._ p. 197.

Footnote 465:

  Vertot, _Révolutions de Suède_, ii.

Footnote 466:

  ‘Quod solus sanguis Christi facit.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 196.

Footnote 467:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 71. Schinmeier, p. 81.

Footnote 468:

  Geijer, ii. p. 71.

Footnote 469:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. pp. 320-323.

Footnote 470:

  ‘Qui frater noster fieri voluit ut officium mediatoris præstaret.’
  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 323.

Footnote 471:

  Schinmeier.

Footnote 472:

  ‘Legimus quod is intellecta veritate evangelica confestim claustro
  fuerit egressus.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 324.

Footnote 473:

  ‘Mutato habitu mores quoque mutaverint atque vitæ genus.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 474:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen der drei Reformatoren_, p. 39.
  Herzog, _Ency._, xiv. p. 76.

Footnote 475:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen der drei Reformatoren_, p. 39.
  Herzog, _Ency._, xiv. p. 76.

Footnote 476:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 88.

Footnote 477:

  ‘Gar zu geneigt seine Person und Regierung zu meistern.’—Geijer, ii.
  p. 89.

Footnote 478:

  ‘Daher nahmen seine Feinde, deren Anzahl am Hofe immer stärker ward,
  täglich Gelegenheit zu manchen Erdichtungen und Vergrösserungen, um
  ihn vollends verhasst zu machen.’—Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen
  der drei Reformatoren_, p. 82.

Footnote 479:

  Schinmeier, _Lebensbeschreibungen_, p. 101.

Footnote 480:

  Schroeckh, _Reform._, ii. p. 52.

Footnote 481:

  Messenias. He wrote in verses of very bad taste:—‘Es war ein eifriger
  Katholik, und überdies noch sehr leichtgläubig.’—Schinmeier, p. 20.

Footnote 482:

  ‘In allen Acten dieser Zeit findet sich auch nicht ein Schatten
  davon.’—_Ibid._ p. 81. Geijer, ii. p. 88.

Footnote 483:

  ‘Uns aber setzet kein Ziel im Regiment und in der Religion.’—Geijer,
  _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 91.

Footnote 484:

  ‘Dignus omnino pedagogus regii filii.’—Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 179. De
  Wette.

Footnote 485:

  ‘Per totum regnum, in ecclesiis præsertim cathedralibus, scholæ
  instituantur.’—Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 179.

Footnote 486:

  ‘Precor Christum ut per hos multum fructum faciat Christus ipse, qui
  eos per majestatem tuam vocat et ordinat. Benedicat Pater . . omnibus
  consiliis et operibus regiæ tuæ majestatis.’—Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 179.

Footnote 487:

  Raumer, _Geschichte Europas_, ii. pp. 137-141. Geijer. Gerdesius.

Footnote 488:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 326.




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


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

[Sidenote: Retirement Of Gustavus.]

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

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

[Sidenote: The Two Sons Of Gustavus.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Disputes About The Supper.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Madness Of Erick.]

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

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

[Sidenote: His Treatment In Prison.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Fratricide.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Assembly Of Upsala.]

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

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

Footnote 489:

  ‘Doch ständen Zeiten bevor, wo Schwedens Kinder gern ihn aus der Erde
  scharren würden, wenn sie könnten.’—Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_,
  ii. p. 144.

Footnote 490:

  Geijer, ii. p. 146.

Footnote 491:

  Catherine, daughter of Magnus, duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, died in 1535.
  Erick was born December 13, 1533.—_Ibid._ ii. p. 94.

Footnote 492:

  Geijer, ii. p. 136.

Footnote 493:

  Geijer, ii. p. 138.

Footnote 494:

  ‘Præter insignem artium liberalium et præsertim matheseos ac linguarum
  exoticarum cognitionem.’—Messenius, _Scondia_, vi. Geijer, ii. p. 149.

Footnote 495:

  ‘Omnes ii qui manducant Christi carnem et bibunt ejus sanguinem vivent
  in æternum.’—Baazius, _Inventarium ecclesiæ Sueo-Gothorum_, lib. iii.
  cap. 3, p. 295.

Footnote 496:

  Baazius, _Inventarium_, lib. iii. cap. iv. p. 302. O. Celsius,
  _History of Erick_, ii. p. 29.

Footnote 497:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 163.

Footnote 498:

  ‘Er stürzte mit gezücktem Dolch in der Hand in das Gefängnisszimmer
  Nils Stures.’—Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 182.

Footnote 499:

  ‘Dionysius Beurreus würde auf Befehl des Wahnsinnigen
  niedergestochen.’—Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 184.

Footnote 500:

  ‘Er rief dass er nicht König wäre.’—Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_,
  ii. p. 184.

Footnote 501:

  Geijer, ii. p. 193.

Footnote 502:

  Schinmeier, _Die drei Reformatoren in Schweden_, p. 157.

Footnote 503:

  ‘Nam mundus est satis amplus ut odia inter fratres distantia locorum
  et regionum bene possint sedari.’—_Ericus ad Johannem._ Geijer, ii. p.
  194.

Footnote 504:

  ‘Sacerdotium et sacrificium.’—S. Hosii _Opera_, ii p. 338.

Footnote 505:

  ‘Insinuat se Pater in amicitiam Germanorum; hi enim faciles
  sunt.’—(Feyt, _De statu religionis in regno_.) Geijer, ii. p. 221.

Footnote 506:

  ‘Promptitudinem latini sermonis et elegantiam mirantur, operam omnem
  promittunt.’—Geijer, ii. p. 221.

Footnote 507:

  ‘Insinuat se in familiaritatem aliquorum, nunc hunc, nunc illum, dante
  Deo, ad fidem _occulte_ reducit.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 508:

  Geijer, ii. p. 217.

Footnote 509:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, pp. 220, 225, 273. Messenius,
  _Scondia_. Baazius, &c.

Footnote 510:

  See these letters in the work of Baazius, lib. iii. cap. x. pp.
  334-358, 346-351-365.

Footnote 511:

  ‘Ego nihil magis in votis habuerim quam ut si quis adhuc in V.M. animo
  scrupulus resideret, eum, D. j., eximere possem.’

Footnote 512:

  Geijer, ii. p. 224.

Footnote 513:

  ‘Mit Gewalt auf sein Bett legen, und ihn mit Polstern oder grossen
  Kissen ersticken.’—(Letter of January 19, 1577). Geijer, ii. pp. 196,
  199.

Footnote 514:

  ‘Toxicum ignarus in pisonum, ut fertur, jusculo præbitum absorbsit,
  indeque miseram efflavit animam.’—Messenius, _Scondia_, vii. p. 48.

Footnote 515:

  Geijer, ii. p. 204.

Footnote 516:

  Representations made by exiles from the kingdom of Sweden to Henry
  III. to obtain justice for the assassination committed in the person
  of Erick, king of Sweden.—Bibl. Roy. M.S.

Footnote 517:

  His life, written by Dorigni, was published at Paris in 1712.—_Vie du
  père A. Possevin_, &c.

Footnote 518:

  Messenius, _Scondia_, vii. p. 41; xv. p. 157; iii. p. 60.

Footnote 519:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. p. 241.

Footnote 520:

  Geijer, _Geschichte Schwedens_, ii. pp. 226, 272, 338.

Footnote 521:

  Nicolai Bothniensis relation om Upsala concilio.—Geijer, ii. p. 272.




                               BOOK XIII.
               HUNGARY, POLAND, BOHEMIA, THE NETHERLANDS.




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


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

[Sidenote: The Magyars.]

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

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

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

    Et les prêtres en paix guidaient ses faibles ans.

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

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

[Sidenote: Beginning Of Reformation.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Hungarians At Wittenberg.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Intolerance Of The Priesthood.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Procession On Corpus Christi Day.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Lutheranism Proscribed.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Burning Of Heretics.]

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

Footnote 522:

  Spalatinus, _Relatio de Comitiis August_. 1530.

Footnote 523:

  _Archiep. Strigon. comp. dat. Tyrnaviæ_, p. 96.

Footnote 524:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn, mit einer Einleitung
  von Merle d’Aubigné_, p. 35. Berlin, 1854.

Footnote 525:

  ‘Incredibilem in multis accendit ardorem ad videndum
  Lutherum.’—Scultetus, _Annal. Ev. rinovati_, p. 51.

Footnote 526:

  ‘Ex publicis academiæ matriculis constat.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 527:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 41.

Footnote 528:

  Saint-Martin.

Footnote 529:

  Paul Janet.

Footnote 530:

  Seckendorf, _Hist. des Lutherth._, p. 603. _Geschichte der
  Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 45.

Footnote 531:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 42.

Footnote 532:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 42.

Footnote 533:

  2 Kings xviii. 27.

Footnote 534:

  ‘Pœna capitis et ablatione omnium bonorum suorum punire
  dignetur.’—_Hist. Diplomatica_, p. 3.

Footnote 535:

  ‘Jam pridem ediximus ne quis in hoc regno nostro sectam illam auderet
  amplecti aut approbare.’ This ordinance, hitherto unpublished, may be
  found in the Hungarian journal _Magyar_, p. 524—_Figyelmezo_,
  Debreczin, 1871.

Footnote 536:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 44.

Footnote 537:

  Haner, _Hist. eccles. Transylvaniæ_, pp. 147-178.

Footnote 538:

  ‘Juvenis bonitate abutebatur.’—Scultetus, _Annales_, p. 62.

Footnote 539:

  Baronius, _Annales_, anno 1525.

Footnote 540:

  ‘Georgium quemdam bibliopolam una cum libris evangelicis
  exusserunt.’—Scultetus, _Annales_, p. 62. Luther, _Epistolæ_.




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


[Sidenote: Invasion Of Solyman.]

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

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

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

    Digne épouse, reçois mes éternels adieux.

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

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

[Sidenote: The Hungarian Army.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Rout Of Mohacz.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: The Queen’s Hymn.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Edict Of Ferdinand.]

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

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

Footnote 541:

  _Historia Critica Ungariæ_, xix. p. 89.

Footnote 542:

  ‘Sarei contento che quel regno si perdesse,’ &c.—_Relazione del Signor
  d’Orio_, Dec. 1523. Ranke, _Deutsch. Geschichte_, ii. p. 407.

Footnote 543:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 45. Broderichus,
  _Clades Mohacziana_, apud Schardium, p. 558. Ranke, ii. p. 409.

Footnote 544:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 47.

Footnote 545:

  ‘Wobei Tödtenblässe sein Angesicht überzog,’ &c.—_Geschichte der
  Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 47.

Footnote 546:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 48.

Footnote 547:

  These sentences are taken from Luther’s Commentary on Psalms xxxvii.,
  lxii., xciv., and cix. See the Letter and the Commentary, Luther,
  _Opp._ Leipsic, vol. v. pp. 609-640.

Footnote 548:

                      ‘Herr Jesu Christ,
                      Du wirst mir stehn zur Seiten,
                      Und sehen auf das Unglück mein,
                      Als wäre es dein,
                      Wenn’s wider mich wird streiten.’

  Bunsen, _Evang. Gesang- und Gebet-Buch_, p. 290. Rambach,
  _Anthologie_, ii. p. 78. (Rambach supposes the hymn to have been
  composed for the queen by Luther at the same time as the exposition of
  the four psalms.—Editor.)

Footnote 549:

  _Matricula Plebanorum_, xxiv. p. 463. _Geschichte der Evangelischen
  Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 51.

Footnote 550:

  See First Series, vol. iv. book xiii. chap. ix.

Footnote 551:

  Ferdinand’s Mandat. Luther, _Opp._ xix. p. 596. _Geschichte der
  Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, pp. 51-53.




                              CHAPTER III.
                     DEVAY AND HIS FELLOW-WORKERS.
                              (1527-1538.)


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

[Sidenote: Mathias Biro Devay.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Slackening Of Persecution.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Confession Of Augsburg.]

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

[Sidenote: Devay’s Completeness.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Devay At Buda.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Devay At Wittenberg.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Devay At Basel.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Conspiracy Of The Prelates.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Conference Of Schassburg.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Embarrassment Of Ferdinand.]

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

Footnote 552:

  ‘Pulsi de regnis Ferdinandi, pauperem Christum in paupertate
  imitantur.’—Luther, _Epp._ iii. p. 289.

Footnote 553:

  ‘Tu vero vir esto fortis, ora et pugna in spiritu et verbo adversum
  ipsum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 554:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, pp. 55, 56. Herzog,
  _Ency._ xvi. p. 641.

Footnote 555:

  Hanner, _Hist. Eccles._ p. 199. _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche
  in Ungarn_, p. 59. _Timon, Epit Chronol._ p. 118.

Footnote 556:

  It had been voted on the 27th August, 1526, that while awaiting a
  national council, each state should act in religious matters so as to
  be responsible to God and to the emperor.

Footnote 557:

  _De sanctorum dormitione._

Footnote 558:

  ‘Propositiones erroneæ Matthiæ Devay, seu ut ille vocat rudimenta
  salutis continentes,’ said his adversary, Dr. Szegedy (Vienna, 1535).

Footnote 559:

  ‘Faber hortatur ut deficiam a causa habiturum me defectionis
  præmium.’—_Corp. Ref._ i. p. 798.

Footnote 560:

  ‘Iis solis sunt salutaria qui _in fide spiritualiter_ et
  sacramentaliter hæc mysteria percipiunt.’—Devay, _Expositio examinis
  quomodo a Fabro in carcere sit examinatus_. Basel, 1537.

Footnote 561:

  Revesz, in Herzog’s _Encyclopædia_, xix. p. 407.

Footnote 562:

  _Geschichte der Evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 62.

Footnote 563:

  ‘Intelligo te magno sumptu scholam constituere et optimarum artium
  studia excitare.’—Melanchthon to Count Nadasdy, _Corp. Ref._ iii. p.
  417.

Footnote 564:

  _Censuræ fratris Gregorii Zegedini_, &c. Vien, bey Syngren, 1535.

Footnote 565:

  Ribini, _Memorabilia Aug. Conf._ p. 38. _Geschichte der evangelischen
  Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 64.

Footnote 566:

  ‘Talis hospes, ut Homerus jubet, ἀντι κασιγνήτου esse
  debet.’—Melanchthon Vito Theodoro. _Corp. Ref._ iii. p. 416.

Footnote 567:

  Em. Revesz., _M. B. Devay und die ungarische reformirte Kirche_.
  Herzog’s _Ency._ xix. p. 410.

Footnote 568:

  ‘Olim Græci Herculem addiderunt Musis, earumque ducem
  vocabant.’—_Corp. Ref._ iii. p. 418.

Footnote 569:

  Luke v. 5.

Footnote 570:

  _Hispaniai vadaszag._ This rare and remarkable book narrates the
  disputation in detail, perhaps giving it an emphasis in favor of the
  Reformation. See also _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_,
  p. 66.




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


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

[Sidenote: Zwinglian Views In Hungary.]

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

[Sidenote: Political Divisions.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Progress Of Reform.]

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

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

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

Conquests more solid and more complete were in preparation. Devay, as we
said, had gone into Switzerland. He had seen there the best men of the
Helvetic Reformation, and had attached himself to the principles which
they professed, towards which he had previously been attracted by his
intercourse with Melanchthon, by his own study of Holy Scripture, and by
his meditations in the prisons of Vienna. It was no longer the rather
superficial theory of Zwinglius, but the more spiritual and profound
doctrine of Calvin, that he had chiefly been in contact with. When he
learnt that the disorders of the Mussulman invasion had come to an end
and that it was once more possible to labor in Hungary to win souls to
the Gospel, he returned home. He did not make his appearance there in
any sectarian spirit. Christ crucified, the wisdom of God and the power
of God, and a new birth by the operation of the Holy Spirit, always
formed the basis of his teaching. But aiming at a close union with
Christ he said—_Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His
blood, ye have no life in you_; adding however as the Saviour did—_It is
the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing_. At Eperies and
other towns in the mountains, there were some Hungarian ministers,
disciples of Luther, who were astonished to hear that the man, who like
them had for his master the Wittenberg reformer, spoke like Calvin. To
these men it gave great pain to see that their fellow-countryman
disagreed with the great doctor whom they had so long held in honor.
They might, however, have rejoiced at the fact that Devay declared that
_the flesh of Christ is meat indeed and His blood is drink indeed_. The
real doctrine of Luther and the real doctrine of Calvin respecting the
Lord’s Supper approximate to each other sufficiently for Lutherans to
respect that of the Reformed Church, and for the Reformed Church to
respect the Confession of Augsburg. Both sides ought to have done this,
even had their difference on this point been greater than it really was,
since both said—_Christ is all in all_. But it was the misfortune of
that age that many fastened upon a few differences of detail rather than
upon the great truths on which they were agreed.

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

[Sidenote: Devay At Debrecsin.]

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

    Fit that every man should know—[582]

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

[Sidenote: Persecution Instigated.]

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

[Sidenote: Stephen Szegedin.]

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

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

[Sidenote: His Writings.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Banishment Of Szegedin.]

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

Footnote 571:

  Dr. Burgovzky, _Ungarn_. Herzog, _Ency._ xvi p. 641.

Footnote 572:

  ‘Sic nullum tandem haberemus articulum fidei, si judicio rationis
  nostræ æstimandum fuerit.’—Ribini, _Memorabilia_, p. 44. Luther,
  _Epp._ Wittenberg, 4 Aug. 1539.—_Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche
  in Ungarn_, p. 69.

Footnote 573:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 70.

Footnote 574:

  Revesz, in Herzog’s _Ency._ xix. p. 409.

Footnote 575:

  Melanchthon, lib. ii. _Epp._ p. 339.

Footnote 576:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 71.

Footnote 577:

  Johannes Manilius in Collect. i.; _De calamitate afflict._ p. 139.
  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 72.

Footnote 578:

  His book was entitled, _Reform der Sächsischen Gemeinde in
  Siebenbürgen_, 1547. Herzog, _Ency._ xiv. p. 344.

Footnote 579:

  ‘Cum apud nos sit ipse adeo boni odoris.’—Luther’s letter of 31st
  April, 1544.

Footnote 580:

  ‘Certe non a nobis habet sacramentariorum doctrinam.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 581:

  ‘Maxime autem invehitur in Devayum, quod ritus quosdam a suis valde
  diversos doceret exerceretque.’—Timon, _Epitome chronologica rerum
  Hungaricarum_.

Footnote 582:

  ‘Minden embernek illik ezt megtudni.’—Herzog, _Ency._ xix. p. 410.

Footnote 583:

  ‘Hic Calmanchehi spiritu erroris infectus, hæresi postea
  sacramentariorum magnam partem Ungariæ infecit.’—Revesz, _Devay und
  die Ungar. reform. Kirche_. Herzog, _Ency_. xix. p. 411.

Footnote 584:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 585:

  _Analecta Scepus._ part ii. p. 234. _Geschichte der evangelischen
  Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 73.

Footnote 586:

  _Analecta Scepus._ part ii. p. 234. _Geschichte der evangelischen
  Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 73.

Footnote 587:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 74.

Footnote 588:

  ‘Tanta in homine fuerat pietas, gravitas et prudentia administrandæ
  rei ecclesiasticæ.’—_Ep._ Michaelis Paxi, April 5, 1573, ad Simlerum.

Footnote 589:

  ‘Ut magno illi Luthero ac sancto Melanchthoni in magnis rebus gerendis
  profuerit.’—_Ep._ Michaelis Paxi, April 5, 1573.

Footnote 590:

  ‘Ordinis in discendo et docendo ita amans, ut qui maxime.’—Skarica,
  _Vita Szegedini_.

Footnote 591:

  ‘Seine an den Volk. . . mit grosser Begeisterung gerichtete
  Predigten.’—_Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 75.

Footnote 592:

  ‘Id quod conciones ejus, et imprimis quæ in publicum evulgatæ sunt,
  sacra hypomnemata, luculentur testantur; quæque, ut ille de alio,
  canescent sæclis innumerabilibus.’—Skarica, _Vita Szegedini_.

Footnote 593:

  ‘Orthodoxæ veritatis in illis arianismo, mahometanismo, aliisque (ut
  de pontificiis nihil dicamus) sectis infestis regionibus propugnator
  acerrimus.’—Skarica, _Vita Szegedini_.

Footnote 594:

  ‘Secundus erat inter cos qui, me puero, corruptelam de Cœna emendarunt
  ac sustulerunt penitus.’—_Ep._ Paxi ad Simler.

Footnote 595:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 75.




                               CHAPTER V.
               THE GOSPEL IN HUNGARY UNDER TURKISH RULE.
                              (1545-1548.)


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

[Sidenote: Rome A Persecutor.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Council Of Trent.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Szegedin At Temeswar.]

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

[Sidenote: The Gospel At Tolna.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Progress Of The Gospel.]

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

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

Footnote 596:

  Pascal. These words immediately refer to the struggle of Roman
  Catholicism against the Port-Royalists; but they are far more true
  with respect to the Reformation.

Footnote 597:

  De Maistre.

Footnote 598:

  Gieseler, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 465.

Footnote 599:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 77.

Footnote 600:

  Ribini, _Memorabilia_, p. 67. _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in
  Ungarn_, pp. 75, 76. Guericke, _Kirchengeschichte_, iii. p. 239.

Footnote 601:

  This is doubtless the _Apology for the Confession_. Schroeckh,
  _Reform._, ii. p. 734.

Footnote 602:

  Ribini, _Memorabilia_, p. 66. Gebhardi, _Geschichte des Reichs
  Ungarn_.

Footnote 603:

  In this place the author wrote on his manuscript as a direction to his
  amanuensis, ‘Leave one page blank.’ This _lacuna_ was not filled
  up.—Editor.

Footnote 604:

  ‘Vestem vulpina pelle subductam.’—Skarica, _Vita Szegedini_.
  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 79.

Footnote 605:

  Skarica, _Vita Szegedini_. _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in
  Ungarn_, p. 80.

Footnote 606:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, p. 80.

Footnote 607:

  Epist. Czigerii ad M. Flacium Illyricum, in Ribini, _Memorabilia_, i.
  p. 501.

Footnote 608:

  _Geschichte der evangelischen Kirche in Ungarn_, pp. 81, 83. Ribini,
  _Memorabilia_, i. p. 78.

Footnote 609:

  ‘Crassum quendam Satanam papisticum vehementer obstitisse.’—Adalb.
  Wurmloch in Bistriz ad Joh. Hess in Breslau. (MS. cited in Gieseler,
  iii. p. 465.)

Footnote 610:

  ‘Approbare evangelium, quod doceat unum colendum Deum reprobetque
  abusum imaginum quas Turcæ abominantur.’—(MS. cited in Gieseler, iii.
  p. 465.)

Footnote 611:

  ‘Mirum namque in modum evangelium gloriæ Dei sub istis bellicis
  tumultibus quam latissime vagatur.’—Joh. Creslingus ad Ambrosium
  Moibanum.—(MS. in Gieseler, iii. p. 465.)




                              CHAPTER VI.
                     BOHEMIA, MORAVIA, AND POLAND.
                              (1518-1521.)


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

[Sidenote: The Disciples Of Hus.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Hussites And Luther.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Taborites And Calixtines.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Lutheranism In Poland.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Doctor Alexander.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Church Organization.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Severity Of Sigismund.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: A Secret Society.]

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

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

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

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

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

Footnote 612:

  Luther, _Werke_, xix. p. 554. (Walch.)

Footnote 613:

  Luther, _Epp._, ad Nic. Haussmannum.

Footnote 614:

  Luther, _Werke_, xix. p. 1593. (Walch.)

Footnote 615:

  _Apologia veræ doctrinæ eorum qui appellantur Waldenses vel Picardi._
  (Zurich, 1532. Wittenberg, 1538.)

Footnote 616:

  ‘Sed liberrimum vestrum sit et omnium judicium.’—Luther, _Epp._ ii. p.
  452.

Footnote 617:

  Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des peuples Slaves_, p. 114.

Footnote 618:

  Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des peuples Slaves_, pp. 115, 116.

Footnote 619:

  Fischer, _Reform in Polen_, i. p. 44.

Footnote 620:

  Schroeckh, _Reform_, ii. p. 671.

Footnote 621:

  Heb. xiii. 2.

Footnote 622:

  Hartknoch, _Preussische Kirchenhistorie_, p. 654.

Footnote 623:

  See the _Syllabus_.

Footnote 624:

  Hartknoch, _Preussische Kirchenhistorie_, pp. 565-568. Krasinski,
  _Hist. relig. des peuples Slaves_, chap, vi. p. 119.

Footnote 625:

  ‘Mira quæ in Dantziko operatus est Christus.’—Luther, _Epp._ ii. p.
  642.

Footnote 626:

  ‘Sed statim irem.’—Luther, _Epp._ ii p. 642.

Footnote 627:

  Luther to the Dantzic Council, May 5, 1525.—_Epp._ ii. p. 656.

Footnote 628:

  2 Cor. x. 4. Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des Peuples Slaves_, chap. vi.
  p. 120.

Footnote 629:

  Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des Peuples Slaves_, vi. p. 121.

Footnote 630:

  Friese, _Kirchengeschichte Polens_, ii. p. 64.

Footnote 631:

  Luther to the Bishop of Samland, April, 1525.—_Epp._ ii. p. 449.

Footnote 632:

  Luther to the Christians of Livonia, April, 1523.—_Epp._ ii. p. 374.

Footnote 633:

  Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des peuples Slaves_, chap. xiv. p. 261.




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


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

[Sidenote: John Alasco.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco And Zwinglius.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco’s Visit To Erasmus.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco’s Return To Poland.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: His Struggles.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: His Falling Away.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Renunciation Of Reform.]

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

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

This oath taken by Alasco was, like his worldliness, a real fall.

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

[Sidenote: Honors.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Growth Of Spiritual Insight.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Departure From Poland.]

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

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

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

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

Footnote 634:

  The principal authorities for the life of Alasco are—J. a Lasco,
  _Opera_, Amsterdam, 1866, passim; Erasmus, _Epistolæ_; Bertram, _Hist.
  Crit. Joh. a Lasco_. Gerdesius, _Annales_. Krasinski, _Hist. relig.
  des peuples Slaves_, ch. vii. Bartels, _Joh. a Lasko_, &c.

Footnote 635:

  ‘Lovanii, anno 1523, versatus est, atque cum Alberto Hardenbergio
  contraxit amicitiam,’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 146.

Footnote 636:

  ‘Me per virum illum (Zwinglium) ad sacrarum literarum studia inductum
  esse.’—Alasco, _Opera_, i. p. 338.

Footnote 637:

  ‘Illum primum omnium.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 638:

  ‘Divino beneficio.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 639:

  ‘Ut missa superstitione pontificia ad Evangelium se
  converteret.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 146. It is difficult to fix
  accurately the times at which Alasco was in the various towns he
  visited. Gerdesius says that he was at Louvain in 1523. Bartels
  supposes that he passed to Zurich in the autumn of 1524. Alasco
  himself states, in his reply to Westphal, _Opera_, i. p. 338, that he
  was at Zurich _ante annos quatuor et viginta_. This work, printed at
  Basel by Oporin, bears date—_Anno salutis 1560, mense Martio_. This
  would fix the removal of Alasco to Zurich in the year 1526. A letter
  of Erasmus which we shall quote assigns Alasco’s stay at Basel, after
  Zurich, to 1525. This date seems most worthy to be relied on. Alasco
  may have been mistaken by a few months.

Footnote 640:

  ‘Scio viro illi adscribi, de quibus nunquam videtur cogitasse, imo
  quorum contraria in ejus monumentis passim habentur,’—Alasco, _Opp._
  i. p. 338.

Footnote 641:

  ‘Cum per Tiguram in Galliam iter facerem.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 642:

  Gerdesius, after relating the visit to Zwinglius, says, ‘Deinceps vero
  Basileæ moratus.’—_Ann._ iii. p. 146.

Footnote 643:

  Krasinski, _Hist. relig. des peuples Slaves_, p. 132. English edition,
  p. 140. The French translation is by M. Gabriel Naville, who was too
  early taken from his friends. It is preceded by an introduction,
  written, at the request of the author and the translator, by the
  author of the _History of the Reformation_.

Footnote 644:

  ‘Erasmus mihi auctor fuit ut animum ad sacra adjicerem; imo vero ille
  primus me in vera religione instituere cœpit’—To Bullinger. Alasco,
  _Opp._ ii. p. 569.

Footnote 645:

  ‘Glareanus,’ i.e. of Glaris. His personal name was Loriti.

Footnote 646:

  _De Geographia._ Freyburg, 1529.

Footnote 647:

  ‘Nunquam possum sine magna animi voluptate meminisse consuetudinis
  nostræ Basiliensis.’—Alasco to C. Pellican. _App._ ii. p. 583.

Footnote 648:

  ‘Moribus est plane niveis: nihil magis aureum aut gemmeum esse
  potest.’—Erasmi _Epp._ xviii. 10.

Footnote 649:

  ‘Joanne a Lasco, juvene citra arrogantiam erudito, citra supercilium,
  magno ac felici, sed moribus adeo candidis, amicis, jucundis, ut per
  ejus amabilem consuetudinem pæne repubuerim, alioqui jam morborum,
  laborum et obtrectatorum tædio marcescens.’—_Ibid._ 13.

Footnote 650:

  ‘Brevique summus futurus.’ (To Egnatius.) ‘Brevique ad res maximas
  evehendus.’ (To Lupsetus.)—Erasmi _Epp._ xvii. 11.

Footnote 651:

  ‘Cum jussu regis ad magna negotia vocareris.’—Erasmi _Epp._ xviii. 26.

Footnote 652:

  Alasco, _Opp._ (To Pellicanus) ii. p. 583.

Footnote 653:

  ‘Dum illustris a Lasco parat equos conscendere.’—Erasmi _Epp._ xviii.
  16.

Footnote 654:

  ‘Tam nunc abitu discrucior.’—Erasmi _Epp._ xviii. 15.

Footnote 655:

  ‘Sudandum erat ut domum hanc tua magnificentia corruptam ad pristinam
  frugalitatem revocarem.’—_Ibid._ 26.

Footnote 656:

  ‘Hic ne musca quidem quæ peteret Venetiam.’—_Ibid._ p. 26.

Footnote 657:

  ‘Tempus illud _misere_ mihi totum periit, in cursitationibus, bellicis
  tumultibus et _fastu aulico_, quod studiis alioquin meis impende e
  multo _felicius_ potuissem.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 583.

Footnote 658:

  ‘Affirmaret se nec duxisse uxorem nec doctrinæ Evangelii
  adhæsisse.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 548.

Footnote 659:

  Sanctiones ecclesiasticæ. (Cracow, 1525.) Constitutiones synodorum,
  &c.

Footnote 660:

  ‘Archiepiscopo Gnesnensi et episcopo Cracoviensi.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 661:

  ‘Volentem et scientem.’—Juramentum. Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 548.

Footnote 662:

  ‘Quod si, ut sumus homines,’ &c.—_Ibid._

Footnote 663:

  ‘In omnibus licitis et honestis.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 664:

  The text reads _ad ea designatis_. The author appears to have read it
  _ab ea_, _sede_ being understood.—(Editor.)

Footnote 665:

  Erasmi, _Epp._ xix. 26. Alasco appears to have had some thought of
  translating some of the works of Erasmus.

Footnote 666:

  _Ibid._ xviii. 26.

Footnote 667:

  _Ibid._ xix. 11. To Christopher de Schüdlovietz, chancellor of the
  kingdom.

Footnote 668:

  Same letter.

Footnote 669:

  ‘Curares ut quicquid novi post Hyperaspistem prodiit ab Erasmo vel
  Luthero, is consilio tuo mea pecunia emat.’ This letter of Alasco,
  dated November 17, 1526, is the earliest which has come down to
  us.—_Opp._ ii. p. 547.

Footnote 670:

  Bartels, _Johannes a Lasco_, p. 8.

Footnote 671:

  ‘Ut vel hoc uno amico mihi videar sat beatus.’—Erasmi, _Epp._ xix. 5.

Footnote 672:

  ‘Fieri non potest ut Christi regno exoriente alicubi Sathanas dormiat,
  cujus artes et furias,’ &c.—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 555.

Footnote 673:

  ‘Sed peculiari quodam malleo petras contundente præstandum sane
  esset.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 557.

Footnote 674:

  ‘Si te multa simulare ac dissimulare cogat et tu illi obsequaris,
  estne hoc _libere_ reprehendisse?‘—_Ibid._

Footnote 675:

  ‘Cum is, anno 1536, nominatus jam esset in Hungaria Episcopus
  Vesprimensis.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 147.

Footnote 676:

  ‘Sed bonus Deus me mihi rursum restituit atque ad veram sui
  cognitionem, e medio Pharisaismo demum mirabiliter evocavit, Illi
  gloria!‘—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 583. To Pellicanus.

Footnote 677:

  Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 279.

Footnote 678:

  Calvin.




                             CHAPTER VIII.
        THE POLISH REFORMER IN THE NETHERLANDS AND IN FRIESLAND.
                              (1537-1546).


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

[Sidenote: Alasco At Louvain.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco At Embden.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Story Of Yaroslav.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco And Hardenberg.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Accusations.]

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

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

[Sidenote: Hatred Of The Monks.]

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

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

‘(August 8, 1543.)’

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

[Sidenote: Progress Of The Reformation.]

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

                      Patience et longueur de temps
                      Font plus que force ni que rage.

[Sidenote: The Protestant Sects.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Church Government.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: Alasco’s Resignation.]

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

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

[Sidenote: His Country Home.]

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

His residence in the country by no means lessened his active exertions;
it appears, on the contrary, to have extended them. We find his
influence operative in West Friesland, where it was diffused both by the
ministry of the pastors of those districts who had taken refuge at
Embden, and by himself personally. He appears to have visited Franeker
and other towns. Far from narrowing his sphere of action, he enlarged
it. He devoted attention to every thing steadfastly and prudently. In
his case was demonstrated the truth that he who has an acquaintance with
the common life of men and practice in conducting worldly business is so
much the more qualified for guiding the Church of God.

[Sidenote: Viglius Of Zuychem.]

It is possible that Alasco may have found in West Friesland some
unexpectedly favorable conditions. If credit is to be given to authentic
documents, a man who has always passed for a persecutor, and who held an
important position in the government of the Netherlands, at this time
secretly favored the Reformation of Friesland. This was the celebrated
Viglius of Zuychem, a man endowed with great talents and a distinguished
jurisconsult, who had studied first at Franeker, and afterwards in the
universities of the Netherlands, France, and Italy. Viglius is so
famous, so well known for the ability which he displayed in opposition
to the Reformation that we can not refrain from lifting the veil for the
purpose of disclosing one side of his history which is very little
known. He is a striking example of a class of men too numerous in the
sixteenth century. His mind was not devoid of liberal tendencies, and in
his heart was some leaning to the religion of the Gospel. But he saw
that under Charles the Fifth he could secure his position and retain the
high honors with which he was loaded only by siding with those who
opposed the light and the Gospel. This, therefore, he did. Like Alasco,
he was indebted to Erasmus for his first impressions. While still a
young boy, he was an enthusiastic admirer of the learned Dutchman, his
fellow-countryman. ‘From my childhood,’ he wrote to Erasmus in March,
1529, ‘my feelings toward you have been of such a nature that in my
studies I had never felt a more powerful stimulus than the thought of
making such progress as would warrant the hope of my winning your kindly
regard.’[709] Afterwards, even before he made the personal acquaintance
of Erasmus, he took his part against those who assailed him. ‘I am
desirous,’ he wrote, ‘that you should know the great love I cherish for
you, and that I am ready vigorously to repel the rage of shameless and
perverse men who assailed you, and thus to protect a peaceful leisure
which you employ in the most useful studies.’ Erasmus, on his part, was
charmed with what he called the easy and amiable disposition of Viglius;
and he added that he had found in his letters powerful enchantments
which had completely won his heart. With respect to the attacks of which
the young man had spoken, he said, ‘Alas! it is my destiny to be engaged
in a perpetual conflict with the whole phalanx of sham monks and sham
theologians, monsters so frightful and so dangerous that it was
certainly easier for Hercules to contend with Cacus, Cerberus, the
Nemean lion, and the hydra of Lernæ. As for you, my dear young friend,’
he added, ‘consider by what means it may be possible for you to obtain
praise without hatred.’[710] Unfortunately Viglius followed his advice
too well, or at least allowed himself in following it to be led into
acts of culpable cowardice.

While still imbued with elevated sentiments, the young Frisian at first
avoided making any engagement with Charles the Fifth, with whose cruel
policy he was too well acquainted. He refused several offers of this
prince, and particularly an invitation to take charge of the education
of his son Philip; but ambition ultimately gained the ascendency. As an
eminent jurisconsult, Viglius entered in 1542 into the great council of
Mechlin, of which in the following year he was named president. The
emperor next made him president of the privy council at Brussels and
head of the order of the Golden Fleece. From the time that he accepted
these offices, the enthusiastic disciple of Erasmus saw the beginning of
a conflict in his inner life which seems to have ended only with his
death. On the one side, he declared boldly against freedom of conscience
and against heresy, things which he regarded as the ruin of nations. He
even went so far as to call those atheists who desired to be free in
their faith. But if he thus satisfied Charles the Fifth and his
ministers, he was unable entirely to stifle the best aspirations of his
youth; and he secretly showed for the Protestants a tolerance which was
quite contrary to his principles. He was accused; and the government of
the Netherlands, having received orders to get precise information about
him, requested, with the utmost secrecy and under the seal of an oath, a
churchman and a man of letters, whose names have not been divulged, to
state what they knew respecting him.[711] The report made by these
priests presents a strange contrast to the judgment of history on this
man. ‘Viglius is accused,’ said these two anonymous reporters, ‘of
having been from his youth greatly suspected of heresy, and chiefly of
the heresy of Luther; of having been and of still being reputed a
heretic, not only in the Netherlands, but in France, Italy, and Germany;
of having associated only with heretics, as, for example, those of
Augsburg, Basel, and Würtemberg; of having given promotion, since his
elevation to the post which he fills, only to men of the same character;
of having caused the nomination, as councillor to the Imperial chamber,
of Albada, who had resigned his office of councillor in Friesland
because he would not consent to the punishment of Anabaptists,
Calvinists, and other sectaries; of having introduced into the
university of Douai, for the purpose of exercising jurisdiction over
churchmen, _lay_ and _married_ rectors; of having lavishly conferred
offices upon his brothers, kinsmen, and friends in Friesland, _all of
them tainted and infected with heresy_; and of many other things of the
like kind.’[712]

In quoting this passage, we do not profess to reform the judgment of
history; but only to show what sometimes lay hidden under the rude and
menacing manners of the councillors of Charles the Fifth.

The testimony of the two priests astonished the duchess of Parma. ‘With
me,’ she said, ‘the president has always appeared to be a good
Catholic.’ Was Viglius then secretly a follower of Luther? By no means.
But he cherished some of the liberal notions of his illustrious
fellow-countryman, Erasmus, and even felt some regard for the
Reformation. When he was censured for having taken part in drawing up
the persecuting edicts of 1530, he denied the charge, and asserted that
he had done all he could to induce the emperor to mitigate their
severity. A priest, who is not suspected of partiality for Protestants,
has said of Viglius—‘This great man used his influence to moderate the
harshness of the duke of Alva by milder counsels.’[713] Viglius, while a
thorough Roman Catholic in his speeches, was less so in his deeds, when
he could be so without risking the loss of the favor of princes. He was
not a hypocrite in virtue, as so many are; he was a hypocrite in
fanaticism. But fanaticism then passed for a virtue, and secured him
wonderful advantages.

[Sidenote: Alasco And Viglius.]

What a contrast between the two men whose names were at this time so
widely known in the two Frieslands! The influence of Alasco was not
confined to these countries. On the banks of the Rhine he took part, in
conjunction with his friend Hardenberg, in the attempts at reform in the
diocese of Cologne. The time was, however, soon to arrive when he would
find himself compelled to leave Friesland, and would be removed to a
larger sphere, to labor there, in the midst of distinguished men, at the
work of the Reformation.

Footnote 679:

  ‘Jam sum hac scriptione fatigatus ... cum hæc pauca toto hoc die ex
  intervallis vix etiamnum absolverim.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 553.

Footnote 680:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 552.

Footnote 681:

  Bartels, _John a Lasco_, p. 12.

Footnote 682:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 556.

Footnote 683:

  ‘Quæ tu de pudore, dolore, tristitia atque ea quæ, te perpetuo, ut
  scribis, excarnificat, miseria adfers.’—Alasco to Hardenberg, _Opp._
  ii. p. 556.

Footnote 684:

  ‘Qui sabbathum in Christo suum sanctificat, non est cur apud homines
  turbetur.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 685:

  The reference is doubtless to the host in the mass.

Footnote 686:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 588.

Footnote 687:

  ‘Spem magni cujusdam episcopatus, si redirem.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p.
  588.

Footnote 688:

  ‘His jam respondi me nolle esse neque _cornutum_ neque _cucullatum_
  apostolum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 689:

  ‘Desiderabatur ultima adhuc lima.’—Gerdesius, iii. p. 148.

Footnote 690:

  ‘Audis fulmina,’ &c.—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. 588.

Footnote 691:

  ‘Adversus hæc me tutata est divina bonitas.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 692:

  Bartels, Joh. a Lasco, p. 14.

Footnote 693:

  ‘Expectanda nova fulmina ab Aula Brabantia; sed potentior est Deus.’
  (Embden, August 31, 1544).—_Ibid._

Footnote 694:

  ‘. . Sed usque ad aras; hæc septa transilire non posse, etiam si
  deserenda sit omnium amicitia, atque adeo familia in summa inopia et
  mendicitate relinquenda.’—_Opp._ ii. p. 560. According to the
  statement of Kuyper, he has reconstructed the letter from citations
  made _oratione obliqua_ by Emmius, _Hist. Fris._ p. 919.

Footnote 695:

  ‘Defensio veræ doctrinæ de Christi incarnatione adversus Mennonem
  Simonis.’—_Opp._ i. pp. 5-60.

Footnote 696:

  Bartels, _Joh. a Lasco_, p. 18.

Footnote 697:

  ‘Huic sane debemus omnem Papæ et Mahumetis tyrannidem.’—Alasco, _Epp.
  Opp._ ii. p. 567.

Footnote 698:

  Wonderboek, 4to. 1542.

Footnote 699:

  ‘In quo videlicet nec falli possis nec fallere.’—Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p.
  571.

Footnote 700:

  Alasco, _Opp._ passim. Trechsel, _Antitrinitarier_, in Herzog i. pp.
  30-35. Bartels, _Joh. a Lasco_, pp. 18-20. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  116.

Footnote 701:

  ‘Si dum in alios severi sumus, in vitiis interim ipsi nobis
  indulgeamus.’—To Hardenberg, July 28, 1544.—_Opp._ ii. p. 574.

Footnote 702:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 575. _Gutachten über die Stellung des Cœtus_,
  Embden, 1857. Bartels, Joh. a Lasco, p. 22.

Footnote 703:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. p. 586. To Bullinger, August 31, 1544.

Footnote 704:

  ‘Ad eum, ut ad servatorem nostrum omnium ac patrem omnium longe
  optimum, omnium beneficentissimum longeque omnium indulgentissimum,
  decurramus.’—Epitome Doctrinæ Ecclesiarum Phrisiæ Orientalis.—_Opp._
  i. p. 493.

Footnote 705:

  ‘Ut qui paulo frugalius velit vivere, mox pro sectario habeatur... In
  his culices, si Deo placet, persecuti sumus, et vespas interim et
  crabrones ipsos alimus: danda est corvis venia.’ The letter is written
  to Hermann Lenthius, councillor of the Countess Ann.—Alasco, _Opp._
  ii. p. 597. September 6, 1545.

Footnote 706:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. pp. 606, 607.

Footnote 707:

  Alasco, _Opp._ ii. pp. 609, 617.

Footnote 708:

  The first letter of Alasco to Calvin is dated from Windsor, December
  14, 1548. Among the works of Alasco there are extant only four letters
  from the Polish reformer to the Genevese. These are of the years 1548,
  1551, 1555 and 1557. But Alasco sent some books to Calvin. In the
  public library of Geneva are preserved two folio volumes, printed at
  Louvain in 1555, bearing this title:—

  ‘Explicatio articulorum venerandæ facultatis sacræ theologiæ Generalis
  Studii Lovaniensis.’—The author of these volumes is Ruard Tapper of
  Enkhuizen. Below the title of the first volume are the following
  words, in an elegant handwriting:—‘Viro sanctissimo, D. Jo. Calvin,
  Jo. a Lasco mittit.’

Footnote 709:

  ‘Quo tuæ me insinuari benevolentiæ posse sperarem. A puero non alius
  mihi vehementior ad studia stimulus fuerit quam ut sic proficerem,’
  &c. _Erasmi Epp._ lib. xx. _Ep._ 80.

Footnote 710:

  ‘Meditare quibus rationibus laudem absque invidia tibi pares.’—_Ibid._
  _Ep._ 81.

Footnote 711:

  Letter of the Duchess of Parma, written from Brussels, in the
  _Correspondance de Philippe II._, from the archives of Simancas,
  published by M. Gachard, archivist-general of the kingdom, vol. i. p.
  318.

Footnote 712:

  The informations laid against Viglius are to be found in the
  _Correspondance de Philippe II._, vol i. p. 319.

Footnote 713:

  Moreri, art. _Viglius_.




                              CHAPTER IX.
              BEGINNING OF REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.
                              (1518-1524).


The Reformation was Catholic or universal in the sense that it appeared
in all the nations of Christendom. It gained, undoubtedly, the most
powerful hold on the sympathy of the northern nations. But the peoples
of central Europe would all have welcomed it but for the persecutions by
princes and priests. In the south it achieved the most beautiful
conquests, and had its martyrs even in Rome. Our task is to follow up
its traces in every direction.

It was in the Netherlands that the first echo of Luther’s voice was
heard. There dwelt a people who had been free since the eleventh
century. Each of the provinces had its States, without whose consent no
law was made, no tax imposed. The love of freedom and the love of the
Gospel together actuated these interesting communities in the first half
of the sixteenth century, and both contributed to their glorious
revolution.

Other elements, however, had their share in the great movements of this
people. Agriculture, which had been called ‘the foundation of human
life,’ was thriving there in the midst of numerous canals. The
mechanical arts were held in honor. Everywhere throughout these
provinces hands and bodies were in motion. They were animated by an
inventive spirit; and Brussels was already renowned for its carpets. The
Netherlands had risen into importance by bold ventures upon the seas,
and their innumerable seamen exchanged their productions with all the
known world. Commerce and industry had given to these regions great
prosperity, and had created rich and powerful towns. In the sixteenth
century, they contained above three hundred and fifty great cities.[714]
At the head of these stood Antwerp, a vast market of the world, thronged
by merchants of all nations, and having a population of 100,000—only
50,000 less than that of London.

[Sidenote: Charles The Fifth.]

The suzerainty of the Netherlands had passed in 1477 from the house of
Burgundy to that of Austria. Under Maximilian the people had retained
the full enjoyment of their liberties. Charles the Fifth, who was by
birth a Fleming, loved his native country and enjoyed from time to time
making some stay in it. The joyous festivals of the Belgian cities
lightened his cares. He appointed Flemings to high offices; opened for
their commerce numerous channels in his vast empire; and everywhere
protected transactions which were so profitable to himself. Those
generous merchants, indeed, did not hesitate to testify their gratitude
to the emperor by rich tribute. But the ambition of the monarch ere long
began to disturb these agreeable relations. Fond of power, Charles the
Fifth did not intend to be satisfied with the modest functions of a
stadtholder. He aimed at making of all these republics a single kingdom,
of which he would be absolute sovereign. The citizens of these free
provinces were no less determined to maintain their rights. The
Reformation came in to double their energies; and the land became the
scene of long-continued and cruel conflicts. The Church in the sixteenth
century was indeed to the Belgians and the Dutch the Church under the
cross. Other reformed countries—France, Hungary, Spain, and Italy—had
their share in the martyrs’ crown. But the Netherlands, groaning under
the treacherous blows of a Philip II. and a duke of Alva, have a title
to the brightest jewels of that crown.

The Catholicism of the Netherlands was not at this time a fanatical
system of religion. The cheerful-hearted people were especially fond of
indulgences, pictures, and festivals; but the majority had not even this
amount of piety. ‘Preaching was rare,’ says an old author, ‘the churches
were poorly attended, the feast-days and holidays ill observed; the
people ignorant of religion, not instructed in the articles of faith.
There were many comic actors, corrupt in morals and religion, in whose
performances the people delighted; and some poor monks and young nuns
always took part in the plays. It seemed as if people could not take
their pleasure without indulging in mockery of God and the Church.’[715]

Nevertheless, the civil liberty enjoyed in the Netherlands had for a
long time been favorable to reforming tendencies. If there was not much
religion within the Church, there was a good deal outside its pale. The
Lollards and the Vaudois, who were numerous among the weavers and
clothiers, had sown in these regions the good seed of the Word. In the
Church likewise, the Brethren of the common life, founded by Gerard
Groot in the fourteenth century, had diffused instruction, so that every
one could read and write. In no quarter had forerunners of the
Reformation been more numerous. Jan van Goch had called for a reform
according to the Bible. Thomas à Kempis, sick of the devotional
practices which then made up religion, had sought after an inward light
which might bring with it life. Erasmus of Rotterdam, king of the
schools, had diffused knowledge which was not in itself the Reformation,
but was a preparation for it. Johan Wessel, born at Groningen in 1419,
had preached Christ as alone the way, the truth, and the life. At
length, among the wealthy merchants and other laymen, men were to be met
with who had a certain knowledge of the Gospel. This people, more
enlightened, more civilized, and more free than most of the European
nations, could not fail to be one of the first to accept this precious
reformation of the Church, so congenial to its own character, and so
well adapted to increase its greatness.[716]

[Sidenote: Reform At Antwerp.]

It was at Antwerp that the fire first blazed forth. In the convent of
the Augustine order there was a simple, sensitive, and affectionate man,
who, although not a German, was one of the first to be impressed by the
preaching of Luther. He had been a student at Wittenberg, had heard the
great doctor, and had been attracted at the same time both by the
sweetness of the Gospel and by the pleasing character of the man who
proclaimed it. It was the prior, Jacob Spreng, commonly called _Probst_
(provost), after the name of his office. He had not the heroic courage
of his master, nor would he have made at Worms such an energetic
declaration. But he was filled with admiration for Luther; and when any
daring deed of the reformer was made known and the monks talked of it
with one another, he used to say, lifting up his head, ‘I have been a
disciple of his.’ He gloried in it, as if he, a feeble and timid man,
had a share in the heroism of his master. Then unable to repress the
affectionate feeling that filled his heart, he added, ‘I love him
ardently; I love him above every thing.’[717]

At the outset of his career, the reformer was looked upon, not as a
heretic, but as a monk of genius. Consequently the monks, filled with
admiration, regarded their chief with respect. The Word of God which the
professor _Ad Biblia_ expounded at Wittenberg had entered into the heart
of Spreng; and while the Antwerp priests were preaching nothing but
fables, he proclaimed Christ.[718] Some of the monks and several
inhabitants of the town were converted to God by the reformer’s
disciple.

It was likewise through Luther’s influence that the light reached the
university town of Louvain. Some of the shorter writings of this
reformer, printed at Basel in 1518, were read at Louvain in 1519. A
storm immediately burst forth. The theologians of the university put
forth all their efforts against the book, prohibited booksellers from
selling it and the faithful from reading it; but the latter courageously
defended the writings and their author.[719] ‘’Tis heresy!’ exclaimed
the theologians. ‘Not so,’ replied the townsmen, ‘it is a doctrine
really Christian.’[720] Increasing in number day by day, they determined
to judge for themselves, read the books, and were convinced. The
theologians were more angry than ever. Disparagement, falsehood,
imposture, craft, and every available means were resorted to by them.
They ascended the pulpit, and exclaimed in tones of thunder ‘These
people are heretics; they are antichrists; the Christian faith is in
danger.’ They occasioned in houses and in families _astonishing
tragedies_.[721]

It was not Luther’s writings and influence alone which began the work of
the Reformation in the Netherlands. Brought into contact by their
commerce with all the countries of Europe, they received from them, not
only things salable for money, but in addition and without money that
which Christianity calls the pearl of great price. Foreigners of every
class, both residents and travellers, merchants, German and Swiss
soldiers, students from various universities, everywhere scattered on a
well-prepared soil the living seed. It was to the conscience that the
Gospel appealed; and thus it struck its roots deeper than if it had only
spoken to the reasoning faculty, or to an imagination fantastic and
prone to superstition. One man especially contributed, not to the
establishment, but to the preparation of the Reformation.

[Sidenote: Erasmus Assailed.]

Erasmus was at this time at Louvain. Some of the monks went to him and
accused him of being an accomplice of Luther. ‘I,’ he replied—‘I do not
know him, any more than the most unknown of men. I have hardly read more
than a page or two of his books.[722] If he has written well, it is no
credit to me; and if ill no disgrace. All I know is that the purity of
his life is such that his enemies themselves find nothing in it to
reproach.’ In vain Erasmus spoke thus. Day by day the Dominicans in
their discourses[723] threw stones at him and at Luther; but they did
this so stupidly that even the most ignorant people said that it was the
monks who were wrong and not Luther. The theologians, perceiving the
state of things, published on the 7th of November, 1519, a bull of
condemnation, hoping thus to have the last word.[724]

The light appeared also in the provinces of the North. Dort, a town of
South Holland, was one of the first to receive it. A Dominican named
Vincent, one of those violent men who passionately disparage their
opponent and are desperate in conflict,[725] delivered a foolish and
aggravating discourse against the Reformation. The hearers went away
greatly excited, and there was immense agitation around the church. The
excitement soon passed from honest and religious men to that ignorant
and passionate class which is always ready to make a riot. When the monk
came out, they uttered loud cries and were almost ready to stone him.
Vincent, in alarm, threw himself into a cart, and fled to Louvain, where
he presented himself as a martyr. ‘I have all but lost my life for the
sake of the faith,’ he said.[726] ‘Erasmus is the cause of it, and the
letters which he has written.’ To burn Erasmus would in his opinion have
been a truly Roman exploit.

The Dominicans availed themselves of this incident, and appealed to the
Count of Nassau, governor of Flanders, Brabant, and Holland. The
States-general were to be assembled at the Hague. The Dominicans
vehemently complained to the count of the progress which the principles
of reform were everywhere making, and demanded that the States should
without delay put a stop to it. ‘Go, then,’ said Nassau to them, ‘preach
the Gospel of Christ in sincerity, as Luther does, without attacking any
body, and you will have no enemies to contend against.’[727] Henry of
Nassau thus sounded the prelude to the noble aspirations of his family.

Disheartened by such an answer, the enemies of the Reformation fancied
that they would meet with a better reception at the hands of Margaret of
Austria, the governess of the Netherlands. The Nassau family were
essentially Germans; but this princess, said the priests, is a good
Catholic. She professed, indeed, to be so; but she was a clever
diplomatist and very zealous in her administration. She was anxious to
see great progress made in literature and the arts. The doctors of
Louvain said to her, ‘Luther, by his writings, is overthrowing
Christianity.’ The princess feigned ignorance, and replied, ‘Who is this
Luther?’ ‘An ignorant monk,’ replied the priests. ‘Well, then,’[728]
rejoined the aunt of Charles the Fifth, ‘there are many of you; write
against this ignorant fellow, and the whole world will place more faith
in many learned men than in one unlearned.’

[Sidenote: Tirades Of The Monks.]

A wind was now blowing that was favorable to the Gospel, and voices were
raised in behalf of Luther, even at the court festivals. One day, when a
great imperial banquet was held, the conversation turned upon the
reformer. Some assailed him, but others boldly undertook his defence. De
Ravestein exclaimed, ‘A single Christian man has arisen in the course of
four centuries, and the Pope wants to kill him.’[729] The monks,
restless and alarmed, asked one another whether the world had gone mad.
Rejected by the learned, they endeavored to stir up the common people. A
Minorite preaching at Bruges in the church of St. Donatianus, and
speaking of Luther and Erasmus, exclaimed—‘They are simpletons, they are
asses, beasts, blockheads, antichrists.’[730] In this style he ran on
for an hour. His hearers, amazed at his stupid vociferations, in their
turn wondered whether he had not himself lost his head. A magistrate
sent for him, and requested him to inform him what errors there were in
the writings of Erasmus. ‘I have not read them,’ said he; ‘I did indeed
once open his Paraphrases, but I closed the book again immediately; from
their excellent Latinity I was afraid that heresy lay beneath.’ Another
Minorite friar, weary of continually hearing the people about him
demanding to have the Gospel preached to them, said aloud, ‘If you want
the Gospel, you must listen to it from the mouths of your priests;’ and
he ventured to add, ‘even though you know that they are given up to
licentiousness.’[731] The debauchery and the despotism of a great many
of the priests brought discredit on the clergy. ‘I value the order of
the Dominicans,’ said Erasmus, ‘and I do not hate the Carmelites; but I
have known some of them who were of such a stamp that I would sooner
obey the Turk than endure their tyranny.’[732]

The fanatical priests now set in motion more powerful engines of war.
Aleander, the papal nuncio, obtained on the 8th of May, 1531, a special
decree of persecution for the Netherlands;[733] and, misusing the name
of the emperor, exerted all his influence to induce Margaret rigorously
to execute the cruel edict. The princess, if left to herself, would have
been more tolerant; but she felt bound to comply with the requirements
of her powerful nephew. Placards were posted up in all the towns, which
spread alarm everywhere. The middle classes in the Netherlands,
sympathizing with progress of every kind, had looked upon Luther as a
glorious champion of Gospel truth; and now they read at every street
corner, that it was forbidden under pain of death to read his writings,
and that his books would be burnt. This was the beginning of the
persecution which was to devastate the Netherlands during the sixteenth
century. During the single reign of Charles the Fifth more than fifty
thousand persons, accused of having read the prohibited books, of having
on a certain day eaten meat, or of having entered into the bonds of
marriage in defiance of the canonical prohibition, were beheaded,
drowned, hung, buried alive or burnt, or suffered death in other
ways.[734] Erasmus therefore exclaimed, ‘What then is Aleander? A
maniac, a fool, a bad man.’[735]

[Sidenote: Jacob Spreng.]

Fanaticism had not waited for the edict of Worms. The provost of Antwerp
had been one of its first victims. Jacob Spreng, we have seen, as early
as 1517 proclaimed with earnestness the salvation which Luther had found
in Jesus Christ, and which he had also found himself. Luther’s courage
increased his own, which was not great. He repeated that he had seen him
and heard him, and that he was his disciple. He did not cease to preach,
like his master, that man is saved by grace, through faith. One day, it
was in 1519, the provost was arrested in his own convent, and, in spite
of the commotion among his friars, was carried off prisoner to Brussels.
There he appeared before the judge and was examined, was exceedingly
worried, and appears even to have been put to the torture and condemned
to death by burning.[736] Spreng, we have said, was not strong. They
worried, threatened, and terrified him. He had not yet the steadfastness
of a rock. The prospect of being burnt alive made him shudder. He was
not what his master would have been; he yielded and, with bowed head and
dim eye and a heart cast down and broken, he agreed to every thing that
was required of him. What a triumph for his enemies! They determined to
make a great display of it. In February, 1520, Aleander, Jerome van der
Nood, chancellor of Brabant, Herbaut, suffragan of Cambray, Glapio,
chaplain to the emperor, and several other dignitaries of the Church,
met together in the presence of a large assembly; for the business in
hand was to invest the recantation of the unhappy man with all possible
solemnity. The president announced to him that thirty of Luther’s
articles were going to be read, and that he must condemn them under pain
of death.[737] These articles had been skilfully selected. The secretary
read—‘Every work of the free will (of the natural will of man), however
good it may be, is a sin, and is in need of the pardon and the mercy of
God.’ ‘I condemn this doctrine,’ said Spreng, terrified at the thought
of death. He did the same with respect to other points. ‘Ah!’ said
Erasmus, who was acquainted with the unbelief of a great number of Roman
priests, ‘many make a great hubbub against Luther on account of some
assertions of little importance, while themselves do not even believe
that the soul continues to exist after death.’[738]

Aleander and his colleagues were not satisfied with having forced
Spreng, with the dagger at his throat, to retract the doctrines of the
reformer. They also compelled him to assert the contrary doctrines.

The session had been a frightful one. The unhappy Spreng withdrew
broken-hearted and filled with bitter sorrow. He had denied his faith;
he had not, however, sinned with any desperate evil intent. He confessed
his fault to God, gradually recovered himself from his fall, and became
afterwards one of the heralds of the Gospel.

He went out of prison indignant with those who had compelled him to
renounce his faith, but especially with himself. He now went to Bruges,
and there began to speak boldly against his own unfaithfulness, and to
spread abroad the knowledge of the Saviour. He was once more arrested
and was taken to Brussels. As a relapsed heretic he had nothing to look
for but death. A rumor was even current that he had been burnt
alive.[739] But there were many who cried to God to obtain his
deliverance. A Franciscan monk, affected by his fate, succeeded in
procuring his escape. Without remaining longer in the Netherlands, he
betook himself in 1522 to Wittenberg, his _Alma Mater_,[740] and from
thence to Bremen. He became one of the pastors of this place, happy in
being able to lead souls in peace in the sweet smiling pastures of the
Gospel.

[Sidenote: The Inquisition.]

It was not without good reason that he fled from the Netherlands.
Charles the Fifth could not remain a stranger to what was going on
there. He was doubtless first of all a politician; and when his temporal
interests required it, he could display a little tolerance, either in
Germany or elsewhere. But in secular affairs he was a despot, and in
religious affairs a bigot. He had no doubt that the Reformation, if it
were introduced in the Netherlands, would cross his autocratic projects.
He therefore indemnified himself in these provinces for the cautious
proceedings to which he was obliged to resign himself in other regions.
He had recourse to the Inquisition. It was not, however, that terrible
institution as it was known in Castile, where it found a people
enthusiastic for its cruelties. The free people of the Netherlands
rejected with abhorrence that criminal institution. Nevertheless, the
two inquisitors of the faith nominated at this time by the Emperor, one
a layman, Franz van der Hulst, a ‘great enemy of letters,’ said Erasmus;
the other a monk, Nicholas van Egmont, ‘a very madman armed with a
sword,’ did not do their work badly. They first committed people to
prison, and afterwards inquired into their faults.[741] All those who
had any leaning to the doctrine of Luther were ordered to appear within
the space of thirty days before these judges, who were invested with the
power of excommunication.

[Sidenote: Cornelius Grapheus.]

The departure of Spreng was a loss to Antwerp and the Netherlands. There
were not many men whose faith was so simple and so genuine. Some eminent
laymen, indeed, declared early for the Reformation; but the relation of
these to the Gospel was rather that of _amateurs_ than of believers.
Cornelius Grapheus (in Flemish, Schryver), secretary of the town of
Antwerp, and a friend of Erasmus, was a superior man. He had travelled a
good deal and learnt a good deal; and although he was invested with one
of the first offices of the imperial town in which he lived, he spent
much time in reading. Jan van Goch’s work on the freedom of the
Christian religion charmed him; and desirous of imparting to others the
enjoyment which he had himself experienced, he translated it into
Flemish. He also wrote a preface to it, in which he censured, but not
ill-naturedly, those who imposed on Christians a useless yoke. Every
well-informed man said as much. Grapheus, finding that these words were
received with approbation, did not suppose that in saying them he had
done a deed of courage. But the two inquisitors, who felt the need of
making some splendid arrest, exclaimed that it was a crime to dare to
speak of a _yoke_, leaped upon their prey, and seized Grapheus in his
own house, in the presence of his terrified wife and children. The whole
city was astounded. What! one of the first magistrates of the town, a
distinguished man, who had travelled in Italy, who cultivated painting,
music, and poetry, such a man as this a heretic! The victim once in
prison, the inquisitors read the criminated treatise, picked out line
after line, and drew up a terrible indictment. Grapheus, a humanist, a
magistrate, an artist, and man of letters, was the most astonished of
all. He had fancied that he was doing nothing more than a literary
exercise, and was distressed at being taken for a theologian. This was
in his eyes an honor of which he was not worthy, and by no means dreamed
of. He said, like Erasmus—no martyrdom. To be restored to a beloved
family, of which he was the sole support, this was the object of his
desire. He sought honorably to apologize. ‘If I have spoken of a
_yoke_,’ said he, ‘it is in no controversial spirit; I entreat pardon
for my rashness, and am willing to retract my errors.’ But the Popish
party were implacable, and they cast him into a black dungeon.[742]

The two inquisitors, not venturing to touch Erasmus, were bent on
striking his friend, and on terrifying by this example the partisans of
literature. They had a platform erected in the principal square of
Brussels; a crowd of people stood round it, and the secretary of Antwerp
appeared upon it. His only thought was to recover his peaceful life, to
be once more in his study, to sit again at his family table. For this
end he was prepared to do any thing. At the command of the inquisitors
he hastened to retract publicly the articles of his preface; and he
threw it into the fire, so much harm had it done him. Grapheus was not a
Lutheran; he was only an Erasmian; and he would have done much more to
regain his liberty. He supposed that he had gained it; but the judges to
whose clemency he had appealed condemned him to the confiscation of his
property, to deprivation of office, and to imprisonment for life. This
is what a man gets by venturing to speak of a _yoke_ in a country where
there are inquisitors.

The unfortunate man, solitary in his dungeon, lamented his essay in
literature, and thought only of his wife and his children. He determined
to appeal to the chancellor of Brabant. ‘I wrote that preface,’ said he,
‘as a literary task for the exercise of my understanding. Alas! how much
better it would have been for me had I been a blockhead, a buffoon, a
comedian, or any other despicable creature, instead of obtaining by my
limited abilities important offices. While so many people are allowed to
publish their tales, their comedies, their farces, their satires, no
matter how rude and improper they may be, a citizen is oppressed because
he has had a share in human frailty.’ Sinking beneath the cruel yoke of
Rome, Grapheus was quite ready to assert that this very yoke had no
existence. He requested, as a great favor, that the town of Antwerp
might be assigned as his prison, in order that he might be able to earn
a livelihood for his family. All his entreaties were fruitless. For a
mere literary peccadillo one of the first magistrates of the Netherlands
groaned for years in the prisons of the town the government of which he
had administered. It appears, however, that he was afterwards liberated,
but he was not reinstated in his office. Instances of this kind show
that Rome had a grudge not only against the Gospel, but against
civilization, intelligence, and freedom.

In this same town of Antwerp, a more cruel fate was to overtake a true
evangelist, a man of great intelligence, and also endowed with deep
feeling and a living and steadfast faith.

[Sidenote: Henry Of Zutphen.]

Henry Mollerus, of the town of Zutphen, the name of which he usually
bore, had entered the Augustinian order. He had distinguished himself in
it, and after having several times changed his convent had settled in
that of Antwerp. Here he had soon risen to an important position. Eager
to advance, he strove continually to attain to a loftier knowledge and
to a more powerful faith.[743] He was not one of those Christians who
lie down and slumber, but of those who awake, go on, press forward, and
run to the goal which they have set before them. In consequence of
hearing the prior, Jacob Spreng, speak much about Martin Luther, he
betook himself in 1521 to Wittenberg, was admitted to the convent of the
Augustines, was joyfully welcomed by Luther, and began immediately to
study in earnest. The reformer, who often conversed with him, was struck
with his capacity and his faith, and considered him worthy to be a
recipient of the honors of the University. Henry applied himself
especially to the study of man; he descended into the depths of his
nature, and made discoveries there which alarmed him. He was struck with
the holiness of the Divine law; he perceived that he could not fulfil
its commandments; and falling to the ground, with closed lips, he
confessed himself guilty. But ere long Christ having been revealed to
his soul, he had lifted up his head and contemplated the Saviour in all
his beauty. From that time he had lived with Christ, and had been eager
to walk in his steps.

Henry of Zutphen requested permission of the University to maintain
publicly some theses, with a view to his taking the degree of bachelor
in theology. The friars of the convent of the Augustines, professors and
students, and other inhabitants of Wittenberg, assembled to hear him.
Zutphen began:—‘Man, having turned aside from the Divine word, wherein
is his life, died immediately, that is to say he was deprived of the
spirit of God.[744]

‘Oh, the impiety of the philosophy which aims at persuading us that this
death of the soul with which we are affected is a life! Oh, vanity of
the human heart, which, in not esteeming the knowledge of God as the
supreme good, and in choosing rather to follow a blind philosophy, goes
astray and rushes into the paths of perdition!

‘As there is nothing good in the root, there is consequently nothing in
the fruit that is not tainted with the poison.

‘The maxims of morality which men stitch together are nothing but
fig-leaves intended to hide their shame.[745]

‘Man is therefore twice dead; once because this is his nature, and yet
again because, instructed by philosophy, he dares to assert—I live.

‘The law does not create sin, but it makes it plainly appear, as the sun
draws out the foul smell of a corpse.[746]

‘The law is a sword which drives us violently out of paradise and kills
us.

‘Faith is a steadfast witnessing of the Spirit of Christ with our spirit
that we are children of God.’

The hearers had, for the most part, attained in their own experience to
a certain knowledge of the truths which the Dutchman avowed; but all of
them appreciated the power with which he set them forth, and the
picturesque style in which his thought was dressed. He continued:—

‘Christ is the servant and the master of the law. He it is who, while
sinking under the burden of sin, takes it away and casts it far from us
and destroys it. He is at once the victim of death, and the medium by
which death is destroyed. He is the captive of hell, and yet it is he
who bursts open its gates.[747]

‘Perish the faith which lies slumbering and torpid, and does not
vigorously press and drive on to charity. If thou hast faith indeed,
fear not, thou hast also charity!’

After having thus delivered a good testimony of his faith, Henry of
Zutphen left Wittenberg, came to Dort, and passed thence to Antwerp,
where he labored zealously. In the cells of his brethren, the
Augustines, in the refectory, as they went to the chapel and returned
from it, he did not cease to urge the monks to draw from the Scriptures
the treasures which had enriched himself.[748] He preached with so much
fervor that the church of the Augustines would not hold the multitude
that flocked to it. The learned, the ignorant, the magistrates, all
classes wanted to hear him. He was the great preacher of the age;
Antwerp hung upon his lips.[749] It appears that he was at this time
nominated prior of the Augustines, as successor to Spreng.

But the more enthusiasm one party displayed, the more wrath was
displayed by the other. Certain monks of other convents, certain
priests, with the inquisitor Van der Hulst at their head, enraged at
this concourse of people, applied to the governess of the Netherlands.
They put forward false witnesses, who declared that they had heard from
the lips of the preacher heretical statements. At the same time they
sought to stir up the people. But God, says Zutphen, prevented any
tumult, however sharp the provocation might be. Van der Hulst had
already prepared at Brussels the prison in which he reckoned on
confining him. Zutphen expected it.

[Sidenote: His Arrest.]

On Michaelmas Day (September 29) he was arrested. The agents of the
inquisitors laid before him certain articles of faith, extracted from
his discourses, and required him to retract them. But he replied with
intrepid courage, and well knew from that moment that he had nothing to
look for but death. It was in the morning; and the inquisitors, fearing
the people, determined to wait till night to remove him to
Brussels.[750] The prisoner therefore remained all day in peace within
the convent walls, engaged in meditation and in preparation for giving
up his life. Suddenly the noise of a great disturbance was heard. In the
evening, after sunset,[751] men were seen, and women too, usually timid
but now made valiant by their love for the Word of God, hurrying
together from all quarters and surrounding the monastery.[752] The most
determined among them burst open the doors; the crowd rushed into the
convent; some men and some women penetrated into Henry’s prison, took
him by the hand, and conducting him to the house of one of his friends,
concealed him there. Three days elapsed, and no one had any suspicion of
his place of refuge. His enemies moved heaven and earth to discover him,
and ransacked all nooks, and corners. They summoned his friends, and
with threats demanded of them whether they knew his place of
concealment. Flight alone could save him from death. ‘I will go to
Wittenberg,’ he said. The difficulty was to get out of the town. He
effected his escape, however, and succeeded in reaching Enkhuysen, a
town of Holland, and there took up his abode in the monastery of the
Augustines. An order arrived to arrest Henry, to bind him and to take
him before Margaret at Antwerp. He had just before left Enkhuysen, and
was arriving at Amsterdam. He set out with all speed from the town and
betook himself to his native place, Zutphen. But here he was presently
recognized and seized. He appeared before the ecclesiastical tribunals.
‘Who art thou? Whence comest thou? Whither goest thou?’ they said to
him. ‘Art thou not come hither to preach?’ ‘If that is agreeable to
you,’ said he, ‘I shall do so with much pleasure.’ ‘Get you gone!’
exclaimed his enraged judges.

[Sidenote: His Murder In Holstein.]

He then set out for Bremen. Here he remained some time without any one
suspecting who he was. Some good townsmen, however, having made his
acquaintance, requested him to preach. He did so, on St. Martin’s Day
(Sunday), 1522, and was immediately cited by the magistrate of the town.
‘Why have you preached?’ said the canons to him. ‘Because the word of
God must not be bound.’ ‘Expel him from the town,’ said the canons to
the magistrates. The latter replied that they could not do this; and
Henry continued to preach. The nobles and the prelates of two dioceses
then demanded that he should be delivered to the bishop; and they
invited the notables of the town and the heads of the trades to unite
with them for this purpose. But they all replied, ‘We have never heard
any thing from his lips but the pure Gospel.’ Henry’s preaching became
more and more powerful, and danger was incessantly increasing. ‘I will
not leave Bremen unless I am driven away by force,’ said Zutphen. He
therefore remained at Bremen, preaching the Gospel fervently and
successfully. ‘Christ lives,’ he said; ‘Christ is conqueror, Christ
commands.’ His prosperous career was suddenly interrupted. Called into
Holstein, he went there, and preached energetically. But, on the day
after the Feast of the Conception, the _Ave Maria_ was sounded at
midnight. Five hundred peasants, instigated by the monks, assailed him,
pulled him from his bed, bound his hands behind his back, dragged him
almost naked over the ice and the snow through the bitter cold air,
struck him a blow with a club, and burnt him. His tragical end we have
narrated in our account of the German Reformation.[753] Luther described
and deplored his martyrdom.

A convent which sent forth such men as Spreng and Zutphen could not be
allowed to subsist. Its suppression was obtained by the inquisitors. All
the friars were turned out of the monastery.[754] The governess of the
Netherlands herself attended this sinister expedition of the inquisitors
of the faith. Those monks who were from Antwerp were confined in the
house of the Beghards, others in other places; and a small number who
had renounced the Gospel were set at liberty. The host was solemnly
removed from this heretical place and carried in great pomp into the
church of the Holy Virgin, at which the governess of the Netherlands,
the aunt of Charles the Fifth, was present for the purpose of receiving
it with high honors. All the vessels of the monastery were sold; the
church and the cloisters were closed, and the passages stopped up. At
length, in the month of October, 1522, the convent was demolished and
razed to the ground.[755] These ruins were to teach every one, and
especially the monks, not to read, and above all not to preach, the Word
of God.

Three of the Augustine monks, Esch, Voes, and Lambert, were eminent for
their faith. We have elsewhere narrated their noble and affecting
martyrdom, and have mentioned the beautiful hymn composed in honor of
them by Luther.[756]

But it was vain to burn those who had awakened to a new life; there were
still many who were no longer willing to sleep.

Holland and other states of the North were beginning to assume the
position which they were afterwards to hold as the United Provinces.

At Delft, Frederick Canirmius, by some discourses delivered in the
Gymnasium, had damaged the cause of the monks. The enemy strove to
stifle his voice by orders, epistles, and deputations. But the brave
Christian man had said with proud confidence, ‘The Lord will cause this
mountain in labor to bring forth nothing but a mouse.[757] Oh!’ he
exclaimed, ‘if only it were permitted us to preach publicly, the cause
of the monks would be ruined.’ But obstacles were every day increasing,
and the ruin of monachism seemed more and more remote. Canirmius did not
lose courage. ‘The Lord withdraws his arm,’ said he, ‘because we
attribute every thing to our own efforts. But if he see that we cling to
him with all our soul as to the sole salvation of Israel, then he will
suddenly present himself in the midst of his Church.’[758]

[Sidenote: A Christian Triumvirate.]

A Christian triumvirate had been formed in these provinces. At the
Hague, William Gnapheus, director of the Gynasium, was diffusing the
Gospel in the midst of his pupils and his connections, substituting for
false worship a living faith in Christ. A learned jurisconsult,
Cornelius Hoen, an excellent man, says Erasmus, and John Rhodius, rector
of the college of Utrecht, assisted him. They carried on their labors in
common; and to them is attributed the translation of the New Testament
into the vulgar tongue, which was published in 1523.[759] The necessity
of an intimate union with Christ was a distinctive feature of the
teaching of these three Dutchmen. ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ,’ said Hoen in
1521, ‘when announcing to his people the pardon of their sins, added a
pledge to his promise, lest their faith should waver. Just as a
bridegroom desirous of ratifying an engagement gives a ring to his bride
and says to her, Take this, I give myself to thee; just as the bride
receiving this ring believes that her husband is hers, turns her heart
away from all other men, and desires only to please her husband; so also
must he who receives the Supper, the precious pledge by which the
Heavenly Bridegroom desires to testify that he gives himself to him,
firmly believe that Christ[760] gave himself for him, and must
consequently turn his heart from all that he has hitherto loved, and
seek after Christ alone, must be anxious only about what pleases him and
cast all his cares upon him. This is what is meant by _eating the flesh
of Christ and drinking his blood_.’ These words did not completely
satisfy Luther, but Zwinglius heartily approved them. The reformed
symbol was early adopted in Holland. These three Dutchmen were peaceably
disseminating the Gospel in their respective spheres, when a storm
suddenly burst over them. Hoen and Gnapheus[761] were arrested and
thrown into prison, without any trial of their cause.

These two men, no friends to noise or display, never speaking of
themselves, intent on the duties of their calling, believing that the
truth ought to be sown in peace, had never supposed that any danger
could overtake them; and now, in the twinkling of an eye, they found
themselves in a dungeon. They were astounded. ‘Every one knows,’ said
Gnapheus,[762] ‘with what diligence I have always devoted myself to the
instruction of the young, but without representing to them ceremonies as
the essence of religion. This is my crime!’ After three months, the
Count of Holland, who highly esteemed these excellent men, became bail
for them. They were then removed to the Hague, and this town was
assigned as their prison. Some time afterwards, Hoen fell asleep in
peace; and Gnapheus, at the end of the second year, was set at liberty.

There were in the Netherlands men of more decided faith than the three
humanists. At Groningen, where that pastor Frederick lived whom Erasmus
proclaimed to be a second Augustine, the doctor of law, Abring, and the
masters of arts, Timmermann, Pistoris, and Lesdrop, sharply attacked the
papal monarchy. ‘We refuse,’ they said, ‘to the Roman pontiff that sword
which is commonly assigned to him. Christ, when speaking of heretics,
said, Beware of them;[763] but He did not say, Massacre and destroy
them.[764] Christ gave to his Church teachers and not satraps.’ Thus
spake, despising danger, these energetic doctors. Boldness was
discretion and won the victory. But such cases were rare, especially in
the southern portion of the Netherlands.

[Sidenote: A Martyr.]

The enemies of the Reformation seemed to be more thoroughly awake in the
south than in the north. At Antwerp and in the surrounding districts
there were (1524) a great number of people of every rank who began to
relish that divine word which had been proclaimed by Spreng, Henry of
Zutphen, and others. The preaching of a pious Augustine monk having been
prohibited, those who longed for the light arranged to meet on Sundays
near the Scheldt, at the place where ships were built, thinking that if
men should hold their peace the very stones would cry out. The
congregation was assembled, and there was no preacher; but, after some
seconds, a young man, perhaps a seamen, rose. His name was Nicholas; and
the word of God which he had received was warmly stirring in his heart.
When he saw all these poor people gathered together in this lonely spot,
ardently desiring good for their souls, and finding none, Nicholas
remembered the five thousand who were without victuals in the
desert.[765] He went to the margin of the river, stepped into a boat
that he might be better heard by the multitude, and read that part of
the Gospel which relates how Jesus fed the hungry ones. This word told
him that the power of God was not tied to outward means; and that it is
all one to him whether there be few or many to edify his people. In
short, God so blessed his word that all those who heard it were
satisfied.[766] The multitude standing on the bank, who had listened
with sympathy, then dispersed. The report of this preaching having
spread through the whole town, the enemies of the Reformation were very
much enraged, and they resolved to get rid of Nicholas, but to do it
clandestinely because they feared the people. The next day the plot was
executed. A band of their accomplices came noiselessly upon the young
man; two or three seized him, while others held a great sack. They
forced Nicholas into it, bound the sack with a cord, then carried it to
the river and threw it into the water.[767] Since he was fond of
preaching on the Scheldt, let him do it now at his leisure! When the
execution was accomplished, these wretches made a boast of it. This
crime filled the hearts of honest men with terror; and the friends of
the Gospel perceived the dangers which surrounded them.

More freedom was sometimes allowed to priests than to laymen. At Meltza,
a place distant two German miles from Antwerp, an eloquent preacher made
a spirited attack on Romish superstitions, without perhaps thoroughly
comprehending evangelical doctrine. Hearers flocked to him in such
multitudes that he had to preach in the fields. ‘We priests,’ said he,
speaking one day of the mass, ‘we are worse than the traitor Judas. For
Judas sold the Lord Jesus and delivered him up; while we, for our part,
sell him indeed, but _we do not deliver him over to you_.’[768] People
had for a long time been accustomed to these epigrams, and they were
less dreaded than a serious and living word.

There were, moreover, in the ranks of the higher clergy of the
Netherlands enlightened men who, without being on the side of the
reformers, were preparing the way for the Reformation. Philip, bishop of
Utrecht, was one of their number. He devoted the beginning of the day to
prayer, and he liked especially in prayer to make use of the words of
the Bible. He had read the sacred writings several times, and Erasmus
boasted of his wisdom and the purity of his morals.[769] He was above
all struck with the licentiousness occasioned by the celibacy of priests
and monks, and expressed the hope that, within his lifetime, all
compulsory celibacy would be abolished by the unanimous consent of
bishops and priests.[770]

This did not fail to produce some impression. In Holland, Brabant, and
Flanders, many monks and nuns quitted the convents. A large number of
the inhabitants of these provinces embraced the reformed doctrine. Great
meetings were held outside the town of Antwerp, in spite of the placards
of Charles the Fifth. But it would have been an easier task to stop the
sun’s rays than to prevent the light of the Gospel from penetrating into
the hearts of men.

Unfortunately the evangelical work encountered adversaries of another
kind. One day a man who came from the Netherlands presented himself to
Luther, and said to him, in a tone at once emphatic and coarse—‘God, who
created the heavens and the earth, sends me to thee.’ ‘One more!’
thought Luther; ‘all these famous men are pressed by the desire to break
a lance with me! What do you want with me?’ he said to the Netherlander.
‘I request you,’ he replied, ‘to read to me the books of Moses.’ ‘And
what sign have you,’ said the reformer, ‘that God sends you to me?’
‘This sign is to be found in the Gospel according to St. John,’ said the
Netherlander. Luther had enough of this. ‘Good,’ said he, ‘come again
another time. The books of Moses are too long for me to find time just
now to read them to you.’

[Sidenote: Illuminism.]

The prophet indeed came back. His religion was a kind of rationalism
embellished with illuminism. ‘Every man,’ he said, ‘has the Holy Spirit;
for this is nothing but his own reason. There is no hell; our flesh
alone is condemned, and every soul will have eternal life.’

Luther, alarmed, wrote immediately to the Antwerp Christians.[771] ‘I
see,’ said he, ‘that there are spirits of error stirring among you; and
I will not by my silence allow an evil to spread which I may have power
to prevent. Under the papacy Satan held his court in peace. But one who
is mightier (Christ) having now come and conquered him, Satan is furious
and creates an uproar. If therefore one of these men wishes to talk with
you about high and difficult questions worked out by them, say to
him—What God reveals to us suffices us.... Art thou mocking us that thou
wouldst induce us to search into things which thyself knowest not? The
devil attempts to bring forward profitless and incomprehensible
questions to the end that he may draw giddy minds out of the right path.
We have enough to do for our whole life if we endeavor to become well
acquainted with Jesus Christ. Let useless prattlers alone.’

The Christians of the Netherlands profited by these counsels. A great
number of men enlightened by the Gospel enlightened others by means of
it. These unknown men were Gerard Wormer, William of Utrecht, Peter
Nannius, Lawrence, Hermann Coq, Nicholas Quicquius, the learned Walter
Delenus, and at the imperial court, Philip de Lens, secretary of
Brabant.[772] In spite of all the efforts of the _censura sacra_, the
truth was spreading in all directions; and a people of believers was
forming who were to become a people of martyrs.

Footnote 714:

  ‘Urbes supra trecentas et quinquaginta censenter.’—Strada, _De Bello_,
  i. p. 32.

Footnote 715:

  _Histoire de la Cause de la Désunion des Pays-Bas_, by Messer Renom de
  France, chevalier, vol. i. chap. 5.

Footnote 716:

  For fuller details on the forerunners of the Reformation in the
  Netherlands, see _Hist. of the Reform._ First series, vol. i. book i.
  ch. 6 and 8.

Footnote 717:

  ‘Est Antverpiæ Prior, qui te unice deamat.’—Erasmus to Luther, _Epp._
  427, in Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 18.

Footnote 718:

  ‘Is omnium pæne solus Christum prædicat.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 719:

  ‘Curavimus ne in nostra universitate liber publice venderetur.’—Bulla
  damnatoria. Luther, _Opp. Lat._ i. p. 416.

Footnote 720:

  ‘Asserentes hujus libri doctrinam vere esse Christianam.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 721:

  ‘Miras excitarunt tragœdias.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 19.

Footnote 722:

  ‘Nec adhuc vacavit hominis libros evolvere præter unam et alteram
  pagellam.’—Erasmus, _Epp._ 317; in Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 17.

Footnote 723:

  ‘Ego in quotidianis concionibus lapidor a prædicatoribus.’—Erasmus,
  _Epp._ 234.

Footnote 724:

  Luther, _Opp. lat._ i. p. 416. Löscher, iii. p. 850.

Footnote 725:

  ‘Obtrectator pertinacissimus.’—Erasmus, _Epp_. 562.

Footnote 726:

  ‘Pro fide capitis subire periculum.’—Erasmus, _Epp._ 562.

Footnote 727:

  ‘Ite et prædicate sincere evangelium Christi sicut
  Lutherus.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 22. Seckendorf, lib. i. s. 81.

Footnote 728:

  ‘Totus mundus plus credet multis doctis quam uni indocto.’—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii. p. 22. Seckendorf, lib. i. s. 81, p. 23.

Footnote 729:

  ‘Unus homo Christianus surrexit in quadringentis annis, quem Papa vult
  occidere.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 730:

  ‘Vocavit nos grues, asinos, bestias, stipites,
  anti-christos.’—Erasmus, _Epp._ 314.

Footnote 731:

  ‘Etiam si noctis concubuerint cum aliquo scorto.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 732:

  ‘Ut malim parere Turcæ quam horum ferre tyrannidem.’—Erasmus, _Epp.
  App._ p. 307.

Footnote 733:

  ‘Ordonnantie en Statuten van Vlaenderen.’—Deel, i. p. 88.

Footnote 734:

  ‘Capite truncata, submersa, suspensa, defossa, exusta, aliisque mortis
  generibus extincta, ultra quinquaginta hominum millia.’—Scultetus,
  _Ann._ p. 87.

Footnote 735:

  ‘Aleander plane maniacus est, vir malus et stultus.’—Erasmus, _Epp._
  317.

Footnote 736:

  ‘Captivus ducitur Bruxellas, ubi mire divexatus, atque ignis supplicio
  gravissimo perterrefactus.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 23.

Footnote 737:

  ‘Articulos ad abjurandos miserum Jacobum metu mortis cogere veriti non
  fuerunt.’—_Ibid._ p. 24.

Footnote 738:

  ‘Cum ipsi non credant . . animum superesse a morte corporis.’—Erasmus,
  _Epp._ p. 587; in Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 24.

Footnote 739:

  ‘Præsumitur jam exustus esse.’ . . Luther, _Epp._ ii. pp. 76, 80. Ad
  Langium et ad Hausmannum.—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 25.

Footnote 740:

  Luther, _Epp._ ii. p. 182.

Footnote 741:

  Erasmus, _Epp._ 669; in Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 27.

Footnote 742:

  Letter of Grapheus to the Archbishop of Palermo, chancellor of the
  court of Brabant.—Brandt, _Hist. der Reformatie_, i. p. 71.

Footnote 743:

  ‘Profecisse atque ad altiora esse enisum.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  28.

Footnote 744:

  We give only a portion of the remarkable theses of Henry of
  Zutphen.—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. _App._ p. 16.

Footnote 745:

  ‘Sola quippe folia sunt ficus et occultamenta dedecoris quicquid
  unquam est ab hominibus morale consutum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 746:

  ‘Sicut sol excitat fœtorem cadaveris.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 16.

Footnote 747:

  ‘Mortis rapina simul et laqueus. Captus in infero quem
  disrupit.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 16.

Footnote 748:

  ‘Omnem movebat lapidem.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 29.

Footnote 749:

  ‘Ab ejus ore pependerant.’—_Ibid._ p. 30.

Footnote 750:

  ‘Ex quo noctu fueram educendus et Bruxellas deducendus.’—Henrici
  _Epist._ ad Jac. Spreng. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. _App._ p. 13.

Footnote 751:

  ‘Vespere dum sol occubuisset.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. _App._ p. 13.

Footnote 752:

  ‘Aliquot mulierum millia concurrentibus simul viris.’—_Ibid._ ‘Credo
  te nosse quomodo mulieres vi Henricum liberarint.’—Luther, _Epp._ ii.
  p. 265.

Footnote 753:

  First series, vol. iii. l. x. chap. vi.

Footnote 754:

  ‘Monasterio expulsi fratres, alii aliis locis captivi.’—Luther, _Epp._
  ii. p. 265. De Wette.

Footnote 755:

  ‘Monasterium illud solo plane esse æquatum.’—Cochlæus. Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii p. 29.

Footnote 756:

  First series, vol. iii. book x. chap. iv.

Footnote 757:

  ‘Ut monte parturiente nascatur ridiculus mus.’—Ep. Fr. Canirmii ad
  Hedionem, 1522.

Footnote 758:

  ‘Tum demum ex improviso aderit ecclesiæ suæ.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 759:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 55. See also Van Till, Le Long, &c.

Footnote 760:

  ‘Similiter sumens eucharistiam pignus sponsi sui, firmiter credere
  debet Christum jam esse suum.’—Epistola Christina per Honium.

Footnote 761:

  ‘Causa inaudita in carcerem conjici jusserunt.’—Gnapheus, _Tobias and
  Lazarus_.

Footnote 762:

  ‘Regnum illud cæremoniarum et falsorum cultuum non assectari.’—_Ibid._
  Preface.

Footnote 763:

  Matt. vii. 15.

Footnote 764:

  ‘Non ait: _Perdite_, _trucidate_, _jugulate_.’—Disputatio habita.
  Groningæ, 1529. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. _App._ pp. 29-60.

Footnote 765:

  Matt. xiv. 14-21.

Footnote 766:

  ‘Juvenis quidam Nicolaus in navem littori proximam ascendit et
  Evangelium. . . pie explicavit.’—Scultetus, _Ann._ sec. i. p. 192 in
  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 37.

Footnote 767:

  ‘Postero autem die sacco indutus. . . subito in profluentem projectus
  est.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 37.

Footnote 768:

  ‘Nos vero eum vobis vendimus et non tradimus.’—Scultetus, _Ann._ p.
  210.

Footnote 769:

  Erasmus, _Epp._ 266. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 40.

Footnote 770:

  ‘Ut omnis compulsæ castitatis necessitas tolleretur.’—Mathæi,
  _Analecta_, vol. i. pp. 192-203.

Footnote 771:

  Luther, _Epp._ Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 42 and _App._ p. 63.

Footnote 772:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 44.




                               CHAPTER X.
                           ‘TOOTHING-STONES.’
                              (1525-1528.)


[Sidenote: Charles The Fifth.]

If Rome was for some centuries to crush the new people, the offspring of
the Gospel in the east of Europe, in Hungary, there was at the western
extremity of the European continent another people which she was to
strive, with still greater violence, to annihilate. The Netherlands were
to become the theatre selected by the adherents of the papacy for the
accomplishment on the grandest scale of their greatest crimes. Charles
the Fifth, a prince who on some occasions displayed a tolerant spirit,
was the man from whom were to proceed the cruel edicts; and his
successor was to go beyond him in the art of destruction.

Charles the Fifth had some remarkable qualities. He was active,
intelligent, a keen politician, brave, energetic, and calm. But a lofty
soul was wanting to him. He was destitute of faith, of compassion and of
justice, addicted to intemperance of every kind, especially to that of
the table. He did not eat, he devoured; and his excesses hastened his
end. But if he made no scruple of transgressing the greatest
commandments of God, he was all the more eager to observe cold and
trivial ceremonies. He used holy water and had mass sung to him every
day. He invoked the saints; and, in drawing up his will, in order to
make more sure of the pardon of his sins, he commended his soul not only
to God, but also to the blessed Virgin Mary, the blessed St. Peter, St.
Paul, St. George, St. Anne, and generally to all the saints, male and
female, of Paradise, _and to the converted thief_ (_au bon
larron_).[773] He appeared zealous for the ordinances of God, affected
like certain Jews to ‘write them on his door-posts,’ but he did not put
them in his heart; and he sought to make up for great offences ‘by some
paltry trash of satisfaction.’ His son Philip, and others who after him
occupied the throne of Spain, likewise adopted and carried out, in a
manner yet more striking, this hypocritical and shameful system. Charles
was not a bigot from fanaticism; he was not afraid to imprison the Holy
Father himself. He did not in reality put much difference between
evangelical and Romish creeds. But, endowed with considerable judgment,
he understood that the doctrine which offered resistance to the
despotism of the popes would assuredly in certain cases offer resistance
to the despotism of princes; and he feared that, if liberty were once
established in the Church, people would end with wanting to introduce it
in the State. Now, this was in his eyes the crime of crimes. Thus,
although the schemes of his policy often led him to spare the
Protestants, Charles was really a decided enemy of the Reformation. He
found it a difficult matter at this epoch to destroy it in Germany,
where he was not sovereign master, and by doing so he would have damaged
his influence. But it was otherwise in the Netherlands. If he had
received the empire by free election of his peers, he held these
provinces by right of succession, and was determined to treat them
according to his own good pleasure. He assumed therefore to hold _carte
blanche_ with regard to them.

The generous inhabitants of these provinces had liberties of ancient
date, and they freely lavished their treasures on the emperor. But the
prince was not in the humor to be stayed in his course either by their
rights or their gifts. He would massacre, burn, and crush them. Thirty
thousand men, some say fifty thousand, were sacrificed in the
Netherlands as heretics during the reign of Charles the Fifth. In this
matter he did not stand much upon ceremony. His secretaries fabricated
frightful placards, which, being silently posted up in the streets of
the towns, proclaimed cruel penalties, filled peaceful citizens with
terror, and soon made numerous victims. The most excellent of his
subjects were burnt, drowned, buried alive or strangled for having read
the Word of God and maintained the doctrines which it teaches. The most
cruel methods were the best. This great prince, therefore, who has been
and is still extolled by so many voices, instead of being crowned with
glory, ought to be branded by posterity with the mark of its
reprobation.

[Sidenote: Charles Of Egmont.]

Charles found co-operators both in the pope, Clement VII., and in some
of the leading men of the country. One of these was Charles of Egmont,
Duke of Guelderland, an ambitious and violent man, who had spent his
life (he was nearly sixty) in perpetual agitation and wars; a sour and
gloomy man, who died of grief when, in 1538, his duchy was given to the
Duke of Cleves. Egmont was one of those who feared, not without reason,
that the religious change would draw after it a political change.
Alarmed at the progress which the Reformation was making around him,
actuated by a blind and impetuous zeal, he wrote from Arnheim to the
pope to enlist him in the war which he intended to undertake. ‘In all
humility,’ he said to him, ‘we kiss your feet, most holy Father, and we
inform you that as the pernicious heresy of Luther does nothing, alas,
but propagate and strengthen itself from day to day, we are striving to
extirpate it. We are extremely distressed at finding that some princes,
our neighbors, permit many things which they ought to repress. This is
the reason for our entreating your Holiness to command them to use more
vigilance lest the many-headed beast should swallow up the church of
Jesus Christ. And as the ecclesiastics are themselves infected, and as
we dare not lay our hands on the Lord’s anointed, we pray you to
authorize us to compel them to return to the good path, and if they do
not repent to inflict on them the punishment of death.’[774]

The pope did not keep him long waiting for an answer. A pontifical brief
of Clement VII., addressed to Erhard de la Marck, cardinal bishop of
Liége, said to him—‘We are convinced that for the extirpation of this
pestilence a higher authority is needed than that of the inquisitors
established by Campeggio; we therefore require you to put forth all your
ability and anxious endeavors to support the labors of the holy
inquisition, and we give you full authority over it. Apply yourself with
all your heart to root out the tares which Lutheran treachery has sown
in the Lord’s field. Never will you find a more splendid opportunity of
obeying God and of making yourself agreeable to us.’[775]

This brief was not to remain long without effect. Indeed, there were
already in the Netherlands many, both men and women, who were suffering
tortures or death that they might bear witness to the Gospel. We shall
describe some cases.

[Sidenote: John Van Bakker.]

At Woerden, a town situated between Leyden and Utrecht, lived a simple
man, warden of the collegiate church, an office which gave him a certain
position. He was well-informed, was of a religious spirit, liked his
office, and discharged its duties zealously. But his warmest affection
was fixed on the person of his son John. John van Bakker, called in
Latin Pistorius, studied under Rhodius at the college of Utrecht. He
made great progress there in literature, but he also learnt something
else. It was at the period of the revival of the Christian religion. The
young man was struck by the glorious brightness of the truth, and a
living light was shed abroad in his heart.[776] Rhodius was attached to
his young disciple; and they were often seen conversing together, like
father and son. The canons of Utrecht took offence. The two evangelicals
were watched, attacked, threatened, and denounced as Lutherans; and word
had been hastily sent to the father that his son was fallen into heresy.
The old churchwarden, thunderstruck by the news, trembling at the
thought of the danger impending over his beloved son, at once recalled
him to Woerden. But the very evil which he wished to avoid was by this
means only increased. John, filled with ardent desire for the
propagation of the truth, let slip no opportunity of proclaiming the
Gospel to his fellow-citizens. Attacks were renewed; the alarm of the
father grew greater. He now sent his son to Louvain to improve himself
in literature, and also because this town passed for the stronghold of
popery. But old ties of hospitality united the father with Erasmus; and
John was therefore placed under the influential patronage of this
scholar. Out of deference to the wishes of his father, but sorely
against his own will, he became a priest. He immediately availed
himself, however, of this office to contend more effectively against the
anti-christian traditions and to spread abroad more extensively the
knowledge of Christ. The canons of Utrecht, who had not lost sight of
him, summoned him to appear before them. He refused to do this; and upon
this refusal, the prefect of Woerden put him in prison. But Philip,
bishop of Utrecht, was favorably disposed towards the Gospel; and John
regained his liberty and without delay betook himself to Wittenberg.
Here he lived in intimate intercourse with Luther and Melanchthon, and
with many pious young men from all the countries of Europe. He thus
became established in the faith. On his return to Holland, he taught
evangelical truth with still more energy than before. The chapter of
Utrecht, whose inquisitorial glance followed him everywhere, now
sentenced him to banishment for three years, and ordered him to go to
Rome, that he might give himself up to the penances required for the
expiation of his errors. But instead of setting out for Italy, he began
to travel all over Holland, instructing, confirming, and building up the
Christians scattered abroad and the churches. He visited Hoen and
Gnapheus, who were at the time prisoners for the Gospel’s sake, and
consoled them. His father followed him with both joy and anxiety in his
Christian wanderings. Although he feared that John’s faith would bring
down persecution upon him, he nevertheless felt attracted towards it. If
the sky looked threatening, the old man in alarm would fain have
recalled his son; but if no cloud seemed likely to disturb the serenity
of the evangelical day, the father rejoiced in the piety of his son and
triumphed in his triumphs.[777]

[Sidenote: His Trial.]

We have now reached the year 1523. Hitherto Bakker had outwardly
belonged to the Church of Rome. He now began to consider whether he
ought not to bring his outward actions into harmony with his inward
convictions. This harmony is not always attained at the first step.
Bakker discontinued officiating in the church, and renounced all profit
and advantage proceeding from Rome. When he understood that sacerdotal
life is opposed to the Gospel, he married; and, calling to mind the
example of Paul, who was a tentmaker, the lettered disciple of Rhodius
set himself to earn his livelihood by baking bread, digging the ground,
and other manual labor. But at the same time he preached in private
houses, and welcomed all who came to seek at his hands consolation and
instruction. A step at this time taken by Rome tended to increase his
zeal. The pope, anxious to consolidate his tottering see, invented a new
species of indulgences, which were not to be offered for sale like those
of Tetzel, but were to be given gratuitously by the priests to all
persons who, at certain times and in certain places, should come to hear
a mass. These indulgences having been preached in Woerden, Bakker rose
in opposition to them. He unveiled the craft of those who distributed
them, boldly proclaimed the grace of Christ, strengthened the feeble,
and pacified troubled consciences. The inhabitants of Woerden, affected
by such zeal, resorted in crowds to the lowly dwelling in which they
found the peace of God, a Christian woman who sympathized with all their
sorrows and endeavored to relieve their necessities, and a pious
minister who earned his living by the labor of his own hands. The
ordinary priest of the place, provoked by the neglect into which he had
fallen, denounced Bakker, at first to the magistrate, and next to the
governess of the Netherlands. He made such desperate efforts[778] that
one day, in 1525, the officers of justice, by order of Margaret,
arrested Bakker and committed him to prison at the Hague. The poor
father on hearing the news was struck as by a thunderbolt. Bakker,
doomed to harsh and solitary confinement, perceived the danger which
hung over him. He looked all round and saw no defender except the Holy
Scriptures. His enemies, who were afraid of his superior knowledge, sent
for theologians and inquisitors from Louvain; and an imperial commission
was instructed to watch the proceedings and see that the heretic was not
spared. The doctors came to an understanding about the trial, and every
one’s part was fixed. The inquisitorial court was formed, and the young
Christian—he was now twenty-seven years of age—appeared before it.
Cross-pleadings were set up. The following are some of the affirmations
and negations which were then heard at the Hague:—

_The Court._—‘It is ordered that every one should submit to all the
decrees and traditions of the Roman church.’

_Bakker._—‘There is no authority except the Holy Scriptures; and it is
from them only that I can receive the doctrine that saves.’[779]

_The Court._—‘Do you not know that it is the church itself which, by its
testimony, gives to the Holy Scriptures their authority?’

_Bakker._—‘I want no other testimony in favor of the Scriptures than
that of the Scriptures themselves, and that of the Holy Spirit which
inwardly convinces us of the truths which Scripture teaches.’

_The Court._—‘Did not Christ say to the apostles—He who heareth you
heareth me?’

_Bakker._—‘We would assuredly listen to you if you could prove to us
that you are sent by Christ.’

_The Court._—‘The priests are the successors of the apostles.’

_Bakker._—‘All Christians born of water and of the Spirit are priests;
and, although all do not publicly preach, all offer to God through
Christ spiritual sacrifices.’

_The Court._—‘Take care! heretics are to be exterminated with the
sword.’

_Bakker._—‘The church of Christ is to make use only of meekness and the
power of the word of God.’

It was not for one day only, but during many days, and in long sessions,
that the inquisitors plagued Bakker. They charged him especially with
three crimes—despising indulgences, discontinuing to say mass, and
marrying.[780]

[Sidenote: His Condemnation.]

As Bakker’s steadfastness frustrated all the efforts of the inquisitors,
they bethought themselves of making him go to confession, hoping thus to
obtain some criminating admission. So they had him into a niche in the
wainscoting, where the confessor received penitents; and a priest
questioned him minutely on all kinds of subjects. They could only get
one answer from him—‘I confess freely before God that I am a most
miserable sinner, worthy of the curse and of eternal death; but at the
same time I hope, and have even a strong confidence that, for the sake
of Jesus Christ my Lord and my only Saviour, I shall certainly obtain
everlasting blessedness.’ The confessor then pronounced him altogether
unworthy of absolution, and he was thrown into a dark dungeon.

So long as Philip, bishop of Utrecht, lived, the canons, although they
had indeed persecuted Bakker, had not ventured to put him to death. This
moderate bishop, so friendly to good men, having died on the 7th of
April, 1525, the chapter felt more at liberty, and Bakker’s death was
resolved on. The tidings of his approaching execution spread alarm
through the little city;[781] and people of all classes immediately
hastened to him and implored him to make the required recantation. But
he refused. Calm and resolved, one care alone occupied his thoughts, the
state of his father. The old man had followed all the phases of the
trial. He had seen the steadfastness of his son’s faith and the supreme
love which he had for Jesus Christ, so that nothing in the world could
separate him from the Saviour. This sight had filled him with joy and
had strengthened his own faith. The inquisitors, who were very anxious
to induce Bakker to recant, thought that one course was still open to
them. They betook themselves therefore to the old man, and entreated him
to urge John to submit to the pope. ‘My son,’ he replied, ‘is very dear
indeed to me; he has never caused me any sorrow; but I am ready to offer
him up a sacrifice to God, as in old time Abraham offered up
Isaac.’[782]

[Sidenote: His Martyrdom.]

It was then announced to Bakker that the hour of his death was at hand.
This news, says a chronicler, filled him with unusual and astonishing
joy.[783] During the night he read and meditated on the divine word.
Then he had a tranquil sleep. In the morning (September 15) they led him
upon an elevated stage, stripped him of the priestly vestments which he
had been obliged to wear, put on him a yellow coat, and on his head a
hat of the same color. This done, he was led to execution. As he passed
by one part of the prison, where several Christians were confined for
the sake of the faith, he was affected and cried aloud—‘Brothers! I am
going to suffer martyrdom. Be of good courage like faithful soldiers of
Jesus Christ, and defend the truths of the Gospel against all
unrighteousness.’ The prisoners started when they heard these words,
clapped their hands, uttered cries of joy, and then with one voice
struck up the _Te Deum_. They determined not to cease singing until the
Christian hero should have ceased to live. Bakker, indeed, could not
hear them, but these songs, associated with the thoughts of the martyr,
ascended to the throne of God. First they sang the _Magnum Certamen_;
then the hymn beginning with the words, ‘_O beata beatorum martyrum
solemnia_.’ This holy concert was the prelude to the festival which was
to be celebrated in heaven. The martyr went up to the stake, took from
the hands of the executioner the rope with which he was to be strangled
before being given up to the flames, and passing it round his neck with
his own hands, he said with joy—‘O death! where is thy sting?’ A moment
afterwards he said—‘Lord Jesus, forgive them, and remember me, O Son of
God.’ The executioner pulled the rope and strangled him. Then the fire
consumed him. The great conflict was finished, the solemnity of the
martyrdom was over. Such was the death of John van Bakker. His father
survived to mourn his loss.[784]

John van Bakker was not the only one visited with these extreme
penalties which the duke of Guelderland had demanded of the pope. There
was in the convent of his order at Britz, a Carmelite, named Bernard,
about fifty years of age. As a fearless preacher of the Gospel the monks
detested him, and they succeeded in getting him sentenced to death. His
execution was attended by some singular circumstances, which gave rise
to one of those legends so numerous in the Romish church, and from which
all the evangelicals had not yet freed themselves. Rome still left her
mark occasionally on the Reformation. When Bernard was cast into the
flames the fire went out. This was thrice repeated. The executioner then
seized a hammer and struck the victim. Thus far the story is credible;
but at this point it is changed, and passes from history to fable. The
body being cast for the fourth time upon the pile, the fire again went
out, and the body, it was said, was no longer visible to the bystanders;
so that a report was circulated that this man of God had been translated
to heaven.[785]

The death of these pious men did not extirpate evangelical Christianity.
The seed scattered abroad in the Netherlands had everywhere sprung up
and had borne fruit at Antwerp, and especially at Bois-le-Duc, both
wealthy and powerful towns. ‘At Antwerp,’ said Erasmus, ‘we see, in
spite of the edicts of the emperor, the people flocking in crowds
wherever the word is to be heard. It is found necessary for the guards
to be under arms night and day. Bois-le-Duc,’ added the Rotterdam
scholar, ‘has banished from its walls all the Franciscans and
Dominicans.’[786] By the vast commerce of the Netherlands men were
attracted to the country from all quarters, and many of these immigrants
were lovers of the Gospel. These provinces, it was said, resembled a
valley which receives in its bosom the waters of many different regions,
so that the plants which are to be found there thrive and bear the
finest fruits. The year 1525 produced the most excellent of all. The New
Testament in the Dutch language had been published at Amsterdam as early
as 1523. The Old Testament appeared at Antwerp in 1525; and the same
year, in the same town, Liesveld published the whole Bible. The Roman
doctors, indeed, ridiculed the missionaries ‘whose office it is to sow
in remote lands the leaves of a book which the winds carry one knows not
whither.’[787] But these leaves, in conjunction with the preaching of
the reformers, took from the pope, in the sixteenth century, the centre
and the north of Europe.

Nevertheless, the best minds at the court, and especially the Governess
Margaret herself, an enlightened princess, and one who was sincerely
anxious for the prosperity of the Netherlands, were asking themselves
what was the source of the evil, and whether the death of such men as
Bakker and Bernard could check it. Erasmus and others replied that a
reform of the priests and monks would render useless that which Luther
called for. This was a mistake. More than once, in different ages, such
a reform had been tried; some outward improvements had been effected,
but the change had been only of short duration, because inwardly the
deep principles of Christian faith and life had not been re-established.
The government, however, attempted this superficial reform. About the
close of September, 1523, Margaret addressed the magistrates of the
Netherlands. ‘Be on your guard,’ she said to them, ‘lest the teaching of
the priests, which abounds in fables, and their impure manner of life,
give a blow to the prosperity of the church.’[788] She did more.
Appealing to the priests themselves, she said—‘It is our intention that
those men only should be allowed to preach who are prudent, intelligent,
and moral.[789] Let the preachers avoid every thing which might
scandalize the people; and let them not speak so much against Luther,
and against his doctrines and those of the ancient heretics.’[790]

Such were the sentiments of enlightened Catholics; but neither Margaret
nor Charles the Fifth had power to transform the Church. Their letters
even called forth murmurs and objections. ‘Why, they are laying the
blame on the priests for the wrongs caused by the reformers. Luther did
the mischief, and now the monks must bear the burden and the penalty!’
It was a penalty for those who thus complained to have to begin to do
well.

[Sidenote: A New Edict.]

After a gleam of good sense, the authorities went astray once more and
resumed their rigorous proceedings. In the judgment of many this was the
easier and more logical course. The papist party regained the
ascendency, and declared with all their might that there was only one
thing to do—to extirpate evangelical doctrine. A new edict was published
in the provinces. Religious meetings, whether public or private, were
prohibited. The reading of the Gospels, of the epistles of St. Paul, and
of other pious works, was forbidden. Any person who asserted, either in
his own house or elsewhere, any thing respecting faith, the sacraments,
the pope and the councils, incurred the heaviest penalties. No work
could be printed before being approved, and every heretical book was to
be burnt.[791] This ordinance was carried into execution without delay,
and its provisions were extended even to writings inspired by the most
praiseworthy benevolence. A noble lady of Holland having lost her
husband, her trial excited warm sympathy in the heart of Gnapheus. He
wrote a book in which he set forth all the consolations to be found in
evangelical doctrine, pointing out at the same time that the doctrine of
the priests was destitute of them. He was immediately arrested and
confined in a monastery, was fed on bread alone, and was condemned to
three months’ penance. The humanist felt keenly the distress of the days
in which he lived; and, desirous of alleviating his own bitter
sufferings and those of his contemporaries, he began in his cell a work
to which he gave the title of _Tobias and Lazarus_. Therein he offers to
all Christians the most precious consolations, and shows how much those
are mistaken who see in the first evangelical Christians of the
Netherlands only more or less violent adversaries of the pope. ‘Receive
afflictions with resignation and a joyful spirit,’ said he, ‘thou wilt
straightway discern in them a source of true and permanent consolation.
Give to God in faith the name of Father, and every thing which thou
shalt receive from His fatherly hand will seem good to thee. Lay hold on
Christ by faith, and then nothing will strengthen you like trials.
Fatherly love is never better seen than in its chastisements; and it is
in the midst of tribulations that the glory of the kingdom of God shines
forth.’ This book bore wholesome fruit, and many by reading it were led
to the knowledge of the truth.[792] Gnapheus in his day fulfilled the
office of a comforter.

This was not the part which Charles the Fifth had chosen. On concluding
(January 15, 1526) with Francis I. the peace of Madrid, he declared in
the preamble that the object of this peace was ‘to be able to turn the
common arms of all Christian kings, princes, and potentates to the
expulsion and destruction of miscreants, and the extirpation of the
Lutheran sect and of all the said heretics alienated from the bosom of
Holy Church.’[793] It was very soon seen that this resolution was
sincere.

[Sidenote: Wendelmutha Klaessen.]

In the town of Monnikendam, on the shores of the Zuyder Zee, there was
living at this time a widow named Wendelmutha Klaessen, who had sorrowed
greatly for the death of the partner of her life, but had also shed
other and still more bitter tears over the sad state of her own soul.
She had found the peace which Christ gives, and had clung to the Saviour
with a constancy and a courage which some of her friends called
obstinacy. The purity of her life created a sanctifying influence around
her; and as she openly avowed her full trust in Christ, she was
arrested, taken to the fortress of Woerden, and soon after to the Hague
to be tried there.

The more steadfast her faith was, the more the priests set their hearts
on getting her to renounce it. Monks were incessantly going to see her,
and omitted no means of shaking her resolution. They assailed her
especially on the subject of transubstantiation, and required her to
worship as if they were God the little round consecrated wafers of which
they made use in the mass.[794] But Wendelmutha, certain that what they
presented to her as God was nothing more than thin bread, replied—‘I do
not adore them, I abhor them.’ The priests, provoked at seeing her cling
so tenaciously to her ideas, urged her kinsfolk and her friends to try
all means of getting her to retract her speeches. This they did.

Among these friends was a noble lady who tenderly loved
Wendelmutha.[795] These two Christian women, although they were as one
soul, had nevertheless different characters. The Dutch lady was full of
anxiety and distress at the prospect of what awaited her friend, and
said to her in the trouble of her soul—‘Why not be silent, my dear
Wendelmutha,[796] and keep what thou believest in thine own heart, so
that the schemes of those who want to take away thy life may be
baffled?’ Wendelmutha replied, with simple and affecting firmness—‘Dost
thou not know, my sister, the meaning of these words—With the heart man
believeth unto righteousness, _and with the mouth confession is made
unto salvation_?’

Another day, one of her kinsfolk, after having endeavored in vain to
shake her resolution, said to her—‘You look as if you had no fear of
death. But wait a little, you have not yet tasted it.’ She replied
immediately with firm hope—‘I confess that I have not yet tasted it; but
I also know that I never shall taste it; for Christ has endured it for
me and has positively said—If a man keep my saying he shall never see
death.’

Shortly afterwards, Wendelmutha appeared before the Dutch Supreme Court
of Justice, and answered that nothing should separate her from her Lord
and her God. When taken back into prison, the priest urged her to
confess. ‘Do this,’ he said, ‘while you are still in life.’ She
replied—‘I am already dead, and God is my life. Jesus Christ has
forgiven me all my sins, and if I have offended any one of my neighbors,
I humbly beg him to pardon me.’

On the 20th of November, 1527, the officers of justice conducted her to
execution. They had placed near her a certain monk who held in his hand
a crucifix, and asked her to kiss the image in token of veneration. She
replied—‘I know not this wooden Saviour; he whom I know is in heaven at
the right hand of God, the Almighty Saviour.’[797] She went modestly to
the stake: and when the flames gathered round her she peacefully closed
her eyes, bowed down her head, as if she were falling asleep, and gave
up her soul to God, while the fire reduced her body to ashes.

Other victims besides were sacrificed. Among their number was an
Augustinian monk of Tournay, whose name was Henry. Having been brought
to a knowledge of the Gospel, and finding the inactivity of cloister
life insupportable, he betook himself to Courtrai, a neighboring town,
scattered there the seed of faith, married, and to preaching added the
example of the domestic virtues. Arrested at Courtrai,[798] he was
committed to prison at Tournay. He was tried, deprived of the symbols of
the priesthood, and condemned to the flames. At this moment, the sense
of the blessedness which he was about to enjoy in the presence of the
Saviour so powerfully possessed his soul that, unmindful of the priests
and the judges who were around him, he began singing aloud that fine old
hymn attributed to Ambrose and to Augustine—_Te Deum Laudamus_. The
spectators went away from the stake touched by the courage of his soul
and the greatness of his faith.[799]

[Sidenote: The ‘Revived Gospel.’]

The Reformation therefore showed itself to be in truth the _revived
Gospel_, as it has been called.[800] It was this Gospel, not only on
account of its conformity with the writings of the apostles, but for yet
other reasons. In the presence of the splendid palaces of a proud
hierarchy, it restored apostolical poverty and humility to a declining
Christendom. In the midst of death it created life. Light sprang up in
the midst of darkness; devotion and self-sacrifice stood face to face
with monkish and sacerdotal egotism. It was a holy religion, holy to the
pitch of heroism, and formed Christians whose life, full of good works,
was crowned by the triumphant death of martyrdom. This faith, this
courage, and these deaths were the preparation for and the introduction
to the formidable and immortal conflict which was afterwards to make the
Church of the Netherlands illustrious. They were only the outworks of
the fortress which this people would one day erect against the
oppression of the papacy. They formed the junction between the lowly
walls which the faith of the little ones was at this time constructing
in these lands and the glorious building which was afterwards erected.
They served as the beginning of a great future. Moreover, these lives
and these deaths were not isolated events. They were continually
recurring in all countries during the epoch of the Reformation, and they
filled it with glory. Nothing like them has been produced either by Rome
or by systems of philosophy.

Footnote 773:

  State Papers of Cardinal Granvella, vol. i. p. 253.

Footnote 774:

  ‘Suppliciis etiam extremis adficiendi.’—Pontanus, _Hist. Gueld._ lib.
  xi. fol. 720. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 46.

Footnote 775:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 46.

Footnote 776:

  ‘Fulgore veritatis quæ tum renasci cœperat tactus.’—_Ibid._ p. 48.

Footnote 777:

  Joh. Pistorii Woerdenatis Martyrium e MS. editum a Jac. Revio. Lugd.
  Batav. 1649.—Scultetus, _Ann._ ad annos. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. pp.
  48, 49.

Footnote 778:

  ‘Manibus pedibusque egit.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 49.

Footnote 779:

  ‘Se extra scripturam sacram nil quicquam quod ad salutarem attinet
  doctrinam fide accipere.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 50.

Footnote 780:

  ‘Diuque et multum ab inquisitoribus vexatus.’—Scultetus, _Ann._ ad
  annum.

Footnote 781:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii p. 51.

Footnote 782:

  ‘Paratum se quidem Abrahami exemplo filium oppido carum ... Deo
  offerre.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 51.

Footnote 783:

  ‘Stupendo quodam et inusitato animi gaudio.’—Gnapheus, _Hist.
  Pistorii_, p. 163.

Footnote 784:

  Revius, Schroeckh, Brandt, Scultetus, ad annum.

Footnote 785:

  ‘Cadaver ex oculis adstantium disparuisse, secuta constanti fama virum
  Dei ad cœlum translatum esse.’—Schelhorn, _Amœnit. litterar._ iv. p.
  418, &c.

Footnote 786:

  Erasmus, _Epp._ 757. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 43.

Footnote 787:

  Phrase used by the Rev. Father Félix, in his discourses at Notre Dame,
  Paris.

Footnote 788:

  ‘Per eorum doctrinam fabulis refertam vel mores
  impurissimos.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 54.

Footnote 789:

  Document dated from the Hague, September 27, 1525.—_Ibid._

Footnote 790:

  _Ibid._

Footnote 791:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 53.

Footnote 792:

  ‘Ejus virtute permulti ad veritatis cognitionem sunt
  perducti.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 56.

Footnote 793:

  Dumont, _Corps universel diplomatique du droit des gens_, iv. i. p.
  399.

Footnote 794:

  ‘Illas rotundas hostiolas.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 62.

Footnote 795:

  ‘Nobili cuidam feminæ Wendelmutham unice diligenti.’—_Ib._ 63.

Footnote 796:

  ‘Cur non taces, mea Wendelmutha?‘—_Ibid._

Footnote 797:

  ‘Hunc ego ligneum salvatorem non agnosco.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  63.

Footnote 798:

  ‘Propter verbum Dei captus.’—Scultetus, _Ann._ ad annum.

Footnote 799:

  ‘Magna animi fortitudine et fidei magnitudine supplicium sustinuisse
  traditur.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 64.

Footnote 800:

  This term is used by Gerdesius and Scultetus in the title of their
  _Annales_.




                              CHAPTER XI.
                   THE VICTIMS OF CHARLES THE FIFTH.
                              (1529-1535.)


[Sidenote: ‘Tender Mercies’ Of Charles.]

Charles the Fifth continued to prosecute his schemes. Each of the
numerous countries which he united under his sceptre had its destination
in accordance with the private views of its master. The Netherlands were
to be the field for the display of his arbitrary authority and his cruel
despotism. The emperor had already given proof of his fierce disposition
in the treaty of Madrid; but he now gave further evidence of the same.
On the 29th of January, 1529, he concluded, at Barcelona, an alliance
with the pope which was worthy of both of them. It was therein declared
that ‘many persons having completely deviated from Christian doctrine,
the emperor and his brother would make use of their power against those
who should obstinately persist in their errors.’ All the princes were
invited to join this ‘holy alliance.’[801] On the 5th of August of the
same year the emperor confirmed, by the treaty of Cambray, his
determination to extirpate evangelical doctrine; and the same year a new
placard, dated from Brussels, October 14, was everywhere posted up,
which ordered that all those who dwelt in the country should, before
November 25, deliver into the hands of the prefect of the place all
books and manuscripts conformed to the opinions of Luther. Whosoever
failed to do so, and whosoever should receive heretics into his house,
should be punished both with confiscation and with death.
‘Nevertheless,’ it was added, ‘that we may manifest to all with what
compassion we are moved, those who before the said date shall confess
and abjure their errors shall be reconciled to the Church.’ Relapsed
persons and prisoners were, however, excepted. The relapsed were
condemned to the flames; and with respect to other heretics, the men
were to be beheaded, and the women condemned to the pit, _i.e._, to be
_buried alive_. Half of the goods of accused persons was promised to the
informers.[802] Such was the compassion with which, according to the
assurance which he gave, the heart of Charles the Fifth was moved. Was
the atrocious penalty pronounced against women consequent on the fact
that they usually showed more piety and gave greater provocation by
their zeal to the satellites of Charles? This is possible; and at all
events the fact is greatly to their honor.

The emperor was not the only oppressor of the evangelicals of the
Netherlands. Charles of Egmont, duke of Guelderland, who was at this
time residing in the ancient palace of his town of Arnheim, on the right
bank of the Rhine, indulged without restraint his wrath against the
Reformation. Two men were the objects of his especial detestation. One
of these was Gerhard Goldenhauer of Nimeguen, a correspondent of
Erasmus, who had brought many of the inhabitants of Guelderland to the
knowledge of Christ. The other was Adolph Clarenbach, a learned and
eloquent man, who had courageously proclaimed evangelical truth. Shortly
after the conclusion of the alliance between the emperor and the pope,
the duke determined to do every thing in his power for the purpose of
crushing the enemies of the pope. ‘I will have,’ said he, ‘all those who
are tainted with the Lutheran heresy, young and old, natives and
foreigners, men and women,[803] all who, either within the privacy of
their own houses, or in hostelries, or in conventicles, shall have said
or done any thing which savors of heresy, deprived without mercy and
without respect of persons, of their property and their lives. One third
of their fortune shall be mine, another third shall go to the towns or
other places where the offence has been committed, and the remaining
third shall go to the informer.’ The ducal fanatic had signed with his
own hand an edict embodying these barbarous stipulations. He did not
confine himself to threats. At Arnheim, Nimeguen, and elsewhere, he
caused men, women, and even monks, to be arrested; and after having
examined them, had some of them drowned, others beheaded, and many
banished. With respect to evangelical books, he ordered them all to be
burnt. In the palace where these orders were signed and discussed there
was a young man not very friendly to popery, whose heart these cruel
proceedings filled with sorrow. This was Charles, a son of the duke by a
noble lady, and a much better man than his father, leading a virtuous
life, and dear to all good men. But nothing could stay the violence of
the wretched Egmont. Perpetually restless, gloomy, and fierce, he could
not lay hands on Clarenbach and Goldenhauer; but the former, immovable
in his avowal of the truth, was burnt alive on the 20th of September, of
this same year, 1529, at Cologne. Goldenhauer withdrew to Strasburg, and
was afterwards called to Marburg as professor of theology.[804]

Nothing could check the course of the government of Charles the Fifth.
On the contrary, it hastened on. Six days after the publication of the
last placard, William, a Christian man of Zwoll, was struck. He had been
one of the ministers of Christian of Denmark, and had come into Belgium
with this prince. Ere long, certain theologians of Louvain, irritated by
his profession of evangelical doctrine, had him arrested. They then went
to him and said—‘Here are certain articles on which we require your
opinion. We give you twelve days to reply to us; and if you refuse to do
so,’ they added in a threatening tone, ‘we shall proceed against you as
we think proper.’

[Sidenote: Executions.]

William read the articles, eight in number, and feeling that there was
no need to take twelve days to answer them, he immediately made a
confession of his faith.[805] ‘Reverend doctors,’ he said to the
theologians, ‘I believe, with respect to the pope, that if he be minded
to wield the temporal sword, to refuse obedience to the lawful
magistrate, rather than confine himself to the spiritual sword which is
the word of God,[806] he has no power either to bind or to loose
consciences. With respect to purgatory, every Christian knows perfectly
well that after death he will be blessed. With respect to the invocation
of saints, we have in heaven Christ alone as mediator, and it is to Him
that I cling. With respect to the mass, it is certainly not a sacrifice;
for the blood of Christ shed upon the cross suffices for the salvation
of the faithful. With respect to Luther’s books, I admit that I have
read them, not however out of contempt for His Imperial Majesty, but in
order that by learning and knowing the truth I may reject every
untruth.’

The doctors of Louvain, noted for their hatred of the Gospel, listened
with abhorrence to this candid confession, in which piety so singular
shone forth.[807] For such a confession, they said, the man who makes it
assuredly deserves to be condemned to death. A stake was therefore
prepared at Mechlin, and William was burnt alive amidst the lamentations
of pious men, who all mourned the death of this Christian martyr.[808]

A young man of Naarden, on the Zuyder Zee, not far from Amsterdam,
studied at the university of Louvain. Endowed with a certain good
nature, lively but not diligent, he voluntarily forsook his studies,
disregarded rules, laughed, drank, and spent his money. He returned to
Holland and to his father’s house. The influences of home appear to have
been salutary, and he began to reflect on his conduct. One day as he was
walking near the sea-shore, he suddenly fell down as if he had been
struck by lightning, and lay stretched upon the ground. Was this
collapse purely physical, or were moral causes in operation? The
remembrance of his misdeeds had doubtless something to do with it. The
young Dutchman had so completely lost consciousness that the people who
ran to his assistance and lifted him up thought that he was dead, and
carried the body home. He was laid on a bed, and gradually he came to
himself; but he was changed. He felt that the severe blow which the hand
of God had struck him was necessary to subdue him to obedience. He was
in distress; but the mercy of Christ consoled him, and henceforth he
walked uprightly. When he had been cast down, like Paul on the road to
Damascus, he had, like him, heard the voice of the Saviour. He diffused
light around him, going from place to place preaching the Gospel. These
events occurred in 1530. The imperial governor sent him orders to appear
at the Hague. He went voluntarily; but he was so simple and so true that
he was dismissed. The same thing happened a second time. But on a third
occasion he was sent to prison. He excited, however, so much interest in
those about him, that they offered him the means of escape. He refused
the offer, and was condemned to death. He went quite joyfully to
execution, with a heart full of love for God and for men. He was heard
singing a hymn to the praise of the Lord who called him to himself by a
death which was made sweet to him. He had nothing about him, not even
the smallest coin; but, seeing near the scaffold some poor people
entirely destitute, he took off with great simplicity his shoes and
stockings, and gave these to them.[809] The victims of Charles were men
of this sort.

[Sidenote: Mary Of Hungary.]

A change which took place in the government of this prince seemed likely
to effect a change with respect to evangelical Christians, and the
friends of the Reformation indulged lively hope from it. Margaret, aunt
of the emperor, who for ten years had governed the Netherlands with
wisdom but with severity, died in 1531, and was succeeded by Mary, queen
of Hungary, the sister of Charles. This princess was a great lover and
student of literature. ‘Verily,’ said Erasmus, speaking of her, ‘the
world is turned upside down; monks are ignorant and women are educated.’
She was a clever woman, of heroic spirit, and a great huntress. But when
she went to the hunt she carried the Gospels in her pocket. We have
already met with her in Hungary, and have not forgotten the words of
consolation which Luther gave her after the death of the king her
husband.

At the Diet of Augsburg she had had the Gospel preached in her own
house, and had won the hearts of the Protestants, who admired her
moderation and her piety. She loves the evangelicals, they used to say,
and has often allayed the wrath of the emperor. She pleads their cause
with him, although with moderation and timidity.[810] She was thus an
object of suspicion to the pope and his adherents, and they accused her
of heresy. The pope, when he had learnt her conduct, instructed his
legate to complain of her to the emperor. ‘She secretly favors,’ said
the nuncio to Charles, ‘the Lutheran faction; she lowers the Catholic
cause, and opposes the measures of your ministers.’[811] She was charged
even with having dissuaded the elector of Trèves from joining the
Catholic alliance, and with having prevented the bishop of Lavaur, envoy
of Francis I., from going into Germany for the purpose of taking counsel
with the Romish party.

Mary of Hungary arrived at Brussels, and took up her abode in the palace
of the court. Little reflection was needed to discover how difficult was
the position assigned her. Although she was not a fully enlightened
Christian and disciple of the Reformation, she nevertheless loved the
Gospel and felt pity for the persecuted evangelicals. On the other hand,
she was sent by her brother to execute his laws against the Protestants,
laws which the emperor did not fail to sanction and often to aggravate
by new ones. What should Mary do? How escape from this cruel dilemma?
She ought to have refused the government with which her brother had
invested her; but this office gave to the widowed queen a rank among the
princes of Europe, and Charles was not one of those whose favors it was
easy to refuse. He had set her in a false position, and unhappily she
remained there. She proposed to steer her course between two contrary
currents; and, while carrying out the orders of her lord and brother,
while endeavoring also to retain his favor and to dissipate his
suspicions by severe letters against the Protestants, she strove as much
as she could to alleviate their sufferings. Some have believed that as
governess of the Netherlands, she had renounced the religious sentiments
which she had held as queen. This, we think, is a mistake. Her life was
a tissue of inconsistencies and contradictions; but she held to the last
sentiments which were suspected at Rome. This was shown by the
determination of Philip II., who, when he resolved to execute in these
provinces his sanguinary designs, recalled his aunt to Spain. Poor
woman, poor princess! What inward struggles she had to undergo!
Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that the torments which she
suffered in her own heart were the penalty of her ambition and her
cowardice. By the course which she took she did harm even to the cause
which she had wished to promote. Her leaning to the Gospel, accompanied
by the sanction which she gave to the death of those whom in her own
conscience she honored, frequently added to the distress of pious men,
and increased the weakness and humiliation of the Reformation. Hope
deceived weighs down and disheartens.

[Sidenote: Cornelius Crocus.]

Meanwhile the evangelical meetings multiplied under Mary’s government.
They were held sometimes in the open air, and sometimes in concealed
retreats; and their attendants were counted by thousands. Among all the
towns of Holland, Amsterdam was distinguished by the number of its
inhabitants, its commercial activity, and the abundance of its wealth.
Evangelical doctrine had early been proclaimed there, either by some of
its inhabitants who cultivated literature and read the Greek Testament
of Erasmus, or by such of its burgesses as went to Germany on matters of
business and brought the Gospel back with them, or by pious foreigners
who came amongst them for the sake of their trade. There was a priest,
by name Cornelius Crocus, a learned man who taught the _belles-lettres_,
but at the same time, being full of zeal for the papacy, addicted
himself to all the Romish practices, and despised the Reformation. It
was, however, silently making progress around him, and he suddenly found
himself encompassed with evangelicals. His kinsfolk, his acquaintances,
and his former disciples[812] had embraced the doctrine of Luther and
Œcolampadius, and were aiming, he thought, to corrupt those who were
still pure in faith. He was alarmed. The peril which was hemming him
round took up his thoughts and tormented him night and day.
Nevertheless, full of confidence in himself, he fancied that if only he
could write a book the danger would be dispelled. But he saw one
obstacle in his way, and only one. As a member of the Minorite order, he
had every day so many prayers to read that not a single moment was left
him for composition. Only a month, he thought, one month of leisure,
would accomplish the task. The book would be written, and Lutheranism
destroyed. He resolved to apply to episcopal authority; and on the eve
of the Epiphany, 1531, he wrote to the official of Utrecht, delegate of
the bishop, to exercise his jurisdiction in this matter—‘I most
earnestly entreat you to permit me to break off my prayers for one month
only, in order that I may compose a work adapted to turn away men’s
minds from Luther and Œcolampadius, and to prevent the corruption of
those who are as yet unaffected. I am obliged to make all the more haste
because some of those whom I have in view are to set sail next month on
a voyage to the East, according to the custom at Amsterdam.’[813]
Amsterdam, already famous for its maritime expeditions, was even then
privileged to bear afar in its vessels the doctrine of the Gospel.

[Sidenote: Controversies.]

There was especially one evangelical at Amsterdam whom Crocus in his
alarm did not lose sight of. This was John Sartorius, who was, as it
appears, his colleague in teaching the _belles-lettres_. Born in this
town in 1500, endowed with remarkable ability and a strong character, he
had much distinguished himself as a student. On a visit to Delft, he had
made the acquaintance of Walter, a Dominican of Utrecht, who, being
proscribed by his own party, had taken refuge in this town. This monk
was the first to impart to Sartorius a taste for the truth. Afterwards,
Sartorius having become intimate with Angelo Merula, pastor of
Heenvliet, he gained by intercourse with this pious man, a solid
knowledge of the truths of the faith.[814] Sartorius was master of
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin; and being charged with the teaching of the
learned languages, he obtained permission of the magistrates to give his
pupils a course of Hebrew lessons which, as we know, was at this time
almost a heresy. Ere long he gave yet more convincing proofs of his
religious sentiments. While engaged on philology, he endeavored to
implant in the minds of his pupils the fundamental principles of the
Gospel; and the doctrine on which he most dwelt was that of faith
alone,[815] because he was certain, like all the reformers, that it was
the surest means of filling a Christian’s life with good works. Crocus,
while mechanically reading his long prayers was thinking of something
else; and, being carried away by the violence of his passion, uttered
loud cries. He resolved to attack Sartorius, confident that he should
crush him at the first blow. He therefore composed and printed at
Antwerp a work entitled _Concerning Faith and Works, against John
Sartorius_. Crocus was joined by Alard, another divine of Amsterdam.
‘This man,’ said he, ‘has a cultivated mind, but he has unfortunately
chosen the worst of all preceptors, presumption.’ Sartorius, though
sharply assailed, did not waver. Immovable in his faith, he courageously
defended it, and without flinching contended against the enemy. He was
not afraid of the superstitious, and was determined to resist them. He
wrote successively—_On justifying faith against Crocus_, and _On the
holy Eucharist_; and in these works, aiming to call things by their true
names, he fearlessly made use of expressions rather too strong. He
published also _Assertions of the Faith, addressed to the satellites of
Satan_.[816] But while he remained immovable in his convictions, he was
obliged frequently to change his place of residence. We find him at
Norwic, at Haarlem, and at Basel. Other evangelical Christians were
compelled like him to quit their native land. John Timann, having tasted
the truth and finding that he could not freely teach it to his
fellow-citizens, took refuge at Bremen, where he labored as a faithful
minister for thirty years, and there died. It was no unimportant matter
that the civil power should thus deprive the Christian people of their
guides, and this it was to learn one day to its own cost. Sartorius
could not endure exile, and he afterwards returned to his native land,
where

              Longtemps tourmenté par un destin cruel,
              Rend son corps à la terre et son esprit au ciel.

These are the last two lines of his epitaph, written by himself.[817]
Sartorius was one of the noblest combatants of the Reformation.

[Sidenote: Persecution At Amsterdam.]

Although the doctors had to take their flight, the Holy Scriptures and
the Christian books remained. It is even possible that Mary of Hungary
secretly promoted the printing of the Bible. This sacred book was
eagerly read in the Netherlands. ‘Ah,’ people used to say, ‘it is
because many of the dogmas taught by the clergy are not to be found in
the oracles of God, that the reading of them is so rigorously
prohibited.’ Thus the wrath of Charles and of his councillors was
kindled against the authors, the printers, and the readers of these
books which contradicted Rome; and a new placard made its appearance
(1531), drawn up with a refinement of cruelty. It was posted up in all
the provinces, and ran thus—‘It is forbidden to write, to print, or to
cause to be printed or written any book whatsoever without permission of
the bishops. If any one do so, he shall be put in the pillory; the
executioner shall take a cross of iron, he shall heat it red-hot, and
applying it to his person shall brand him; or he shall pluck out one of
his eyes, or cut off one of his hands,[818] at the discretion of the
judge.’ The papacy in the sixteenth century was not in favor of freedom
of the press.

At the same time, orders were given for the promulgation, every six
months, without delay, of the edict of 1529. There were some things the
remembrance of which Charles V. was not willing that his _faithful
ones_, as he called them,[819] should for one moment lose. Men were
bound always to keep in mind the _sword_, women the _pit_, and the
relapsed the _fire_. Three good thoughts these were, fit to keep alive
the fidelity of the faithful. The government did not restrict itself to
words. A little while after, the agents of the imperial authority at
Amsterdam, entering by night into certain houses, which they had marked
during the day, crept noiselessly to the bedsides of those whom they
sought, seized nine men, ordered them to put on their hose immediately
and without murmuring, and then carried them off to the Hague. There, by
the command of the emperor, they were beheaded.

They were suspected of preferring the baptism of adults to that of
infants.[820]

These executions produced profound irritation among the free population
of the Netherlands, and in some places they offered resistance to the
caprices of the autocrat. Deventer contained many evangelicals.
Consequently, some envoys of the emperor received instructions, in 1532,
to make an inquiry concerning those suspected of Lutheranism. It was
intended to place the unhappy town under the régime of the fire, the
sword, and the pit. When the envoys of Charles arrived at the gates of
the city their entrance was prohibited.[821] They were amazed to see the
townsmen sending away the deputies of their sovereign. ‘We demand
admission of you _in the name of the emperor_,’ repeated the imperial
officers. The senate and the tribunes of the people assembled. The
question was hardly discussed. The ancient Dutch immunities still lived
in the hearts of these citizens, and they intended to put in practice
the right of free manifestation of conscience. The deputies of the
senate therefore went to the gates of the city and said to the envoys of
Charles—‘We can not by any means consent that foreign commissioners
should usurp the rights which you claim. If you have any complaint to
make, carry it before the burgomaster or before the delegates of the
senate.’ Noble and courageous town, whose generous example is to be held
in honor!

[Sidenote: A Family Of Martyrs.]

All magistrates were not so bold. At Limburg, a small town in the
province of Liège, many of the townsmen had been converted to the Gospel
without being exposed to any interference on the part of the
magistrates. Among these converts was one family, all of whose members
were consecrated to God. There were six of them: the father and mother,
two daughters and their husbands. Called one after another to the
knowledge of the Saviour, they had taken their lamps in their hands in
order to show to others the path of life; and truly their upright and
holy life enlightened those who were witnesses of it. Some emissaries of
the emperor arrived (1532), and no one stopped them at the gates. The
home of this family was immediately pointed out to them. They entered
the house, and seized father and mother, sons and daughters. Sobs and
groans were now heard in this abode, which used before to resound with
the singing of psalms. In the midst of their great trial, however, these
six Christians had one consolation—they were not separated from each
other, but were condemned to be all burnt at the same fire. The pile was
constructed outside the town, near the heights of Rotfeld.[822] While
they were being led to execution, the father and mother, the two
daughters, and the sons-in-law felt, it is said, a kind of holy
transport, and uttered cries of joy.[823] It appears, however, that some
among them showed signs of momentary weakness. Therefore, desirous of
strengthening each other, they began to sing together their beautiful
psalms—‘God is our God forever and ever; He will be our guide even unto
death.’ Thus they reached the place of execution; and each of them
breathed his last calling upon the Lord Jesus.[824] This blessed family
had been removed to heaven all together, and without any painful
separation.

Persecution did not slacken. In 1533, four men accused of holding
evangelical doctrines were put to death at Bois-le-Duc. Five men and one
woman, terrified at the prospect of death, abjured their faith and were
condemned to walk in procession before the host, carrying lighted
tapers, to cast their Lutheran books into the fire, and to wear
constantly on their garments a yellow cross. One man, named Sikke
Snyder, was beheaded at Leeuwarden for having received baptism as an
adult;[825] and not long before, a woman, for the same crime, had been
thrown into the lake of Haarlem. This was the most expeditious way to
get rid of her; but they did her husband the honor of burning him alive,
with two of his friends, at the Hague.

The like crimes marked the year 1534. A potter of Bois-le-Duc lost his
head for the crime of being an evangelical. William Wiggertson suffered
the same fate, but secretly, in the fortress of Schagen; and Schol, a
priest of Amsterdam, distinguished for his eloquence and his virtues,
was condemned to the flames at Brussels.[826]

These horrors—and there were many besides those we have described—could
not but produce a fatal reaction. The persecutions which befell the
adherents of the reformed faith in those lands in which the change was
most thorough, in the Netherlands, in France, in England, and in
Scotland, were to exert a lasting influence. It is felt even to the
present day. It may be said that the martyr-fires are hardly yet
extinguished, that the bell of Saint Bartholomew’s Day is still
resounding, and that there are yet visible the last of those numerous
bands of prisoners and of refugees, defiling some of them to the
galleys, others into exile. In the Lutheran countries, and especially in
Germany, where the blood of the martyrs was not spilt at all, or to a
very small extent, there is a certain moderation, and even some
kindliness in the intercourse between Roman Catholics and Protestants.
The conflict there is scientific only. But it is otherwise in the
countries of the reformed or Calvinistic faith. There people do not
forget the fire and the sword, and the two parties appear to be
irreconcilable. If this is the present result of cruelties perpetrated
more than three centuries ago, we may imagine what the effect must have
been on contemporaries. They filled the hearts of pious men with sorrow
and distress.

[Sidenote: The Enthusiasts.]

As early as 1531, it was generally acknowledged that the whole body of
the people would embrace the Reformation if persecution ceased. Those
who were not guided by the fear of God were exasperated and enraged with
the persecutors. Nor was this the worst; the want of spiritual leaders
left the field open to enthusiasts who believed themselves inspired, and
to impostors who pretended to be so. If the pastors are set aside, fools
or knaves set themselves up as prophets, and, instead of instructing the
people, lead them astray. It appears that some of the disciples of the
enthusiastic divines whom Luther and Zwinglius had strenuously opposed,
when driven out of Germany and Switzerland, brought their visions into
the Netherlands. They knew that these lands had long been in the
enjoyment of liberty, and hoped that they should be able to propagate
their system there without disturbance. The persecutions of the Romish
clergy threw many evangelicals into their arms. The system of these
enthusiasts was altogether opposed to that of the reformers. They
differed, in particular, as to the doctrine of the powerlessness of the
soul for good. They consequently separated into two parties. Man, said
some of their doctors, is able by his own power to obtain salvation. For
these, Christ was a schoolmaster rather than a Saviour; and some of
them, Kaetzer, for example, positively denied his divinity. ‘He redeems
us,’ they said, ‘by pointing out the path that we ought to pursue.’[827]
Others asserted that the flesh alone was subject to sin, that the spirit
was not affected, and that it had no share in the fall. All of them
looked upon the evangelical church and its institutions as a new papacy.
Both alike, they affirmed, the new and the old, were about to be
destroyed, and a great transformation of the world was about to be
effected. It would begin by depriving kings and magistrates, and by
putting pastors and priests to death.

These so-called prophets frequently made their appearance without any
one’s knowing whence they came or whither they went. They began by
saluting in the name of the Lord. Then they spoke of the corruption of
the world. They announced the end of all things, naming even the day and
the hour, and they styled themselves the messengers of God to seal the
elect with the seal of the covenant. All those who were sealed were
about to be gathered together from the four quarters of the world, and
all the ungodly would be destroyed. They especially addressed themselves
to artisans, and in them they found men more intelligent than the
peasants of the rural districts, men wearied with their laborious
occupations, bitter about their low wages, and full of eager desire for
a better position. The principal leaders were tailors, shoemakers, and
bakers. The majority of these respectable classes stood aloof from the
dreams of the fanatics, and continued to earn their livelihood by honest
means. But the enthusiasts among them in Switzerland, in Alsace, in
Germany, in the Netherlands, and elsewhere, proposed to form a great
international league, by means of which they would live in pleasure and
have nothing to do. Professing themselves inspired of God for the
accomplishment of His purposes, they gave themselves up ere long to the
most shameful passions and the most cruel actions. It has been remarked
that the most signal example of fanaticism recorded in the pages of
history was inspired by an exaggerated devotion to the papal system; and
those citizens of Paris have become famous, who on the night of Saint
Bartholomew, assassinated, butchered, and tore to pieces those of their
fellow-citizens who did not go to mass. History, however, does present
to us a fanaticism yet more disgusting, if it be not more cruel. It was
that of a sect which was neither Romanist nor Protestant—the enthusiasts
of whom we speak. And if we consider their relations, whether with Rome
or with Protestantism, it seems to us that it is no deviation from a
wise impartiality to say that the cruelties of the imperial government,
frequently supported by the priests, essentially contributed to plunge
these unfortunate men into their extravagances and cruelties; while the
Protestant divines earnestly contended against them with the pen, and
the princes with the sword.

If the fire of fanaticism was sometimes brought from Germany into the
Netherlands, it was most frequently kindled there without foreign aid.
The fermentation which took place in certain rude and coarse natures,
and the persecutions of Rome, developed there an unwholesome heat which
irritated men’s tempers and inflamed their imaginations. There was no
need here of Stork, of Munzer, or of Manz.

[Sidenote: Prophets.]

In 1533, agents of the Government discovered arms in the possession of
some of the enthusiasts.[828] ‘Assuredly,’ said Queen Mary, ‘this is not
far from sedition.’ Melchior Hoffmann, a Suabian fur-trader, a clever,
eloquent, and audacious man, had before this time spent some years at
Embden, in East Friesland, and had given himself out as one called of
God to contend against the doctrines of the pope, of Luther, and of
Zwinglius, and to manifest the truth to the world.[829] John Matthison,
a Haarlem baker, an acute, daring, and immoral man, now at Amsterdam,
had enthusiastic raptures, and asserted himself to be Enoch.[830] He
pretended that as such he was charged to announce the coming of the
kingdom of God; he predicted sufferings so horrible against those who
refused to believe him, that the poor people in their terror fancied
they already saw hell opened before them; and subdued by alarm they
blindly believed every thing that Enoch told them. Among his disciples
was one John Bockhold, a Leyden tailor, whom he ordained, and whom he
sent out with eleven others (twelve apostles!) to preach the new Gospel.
The restitution of all things is at hand, said these new prophets. A
spiritual and temporal reign of Christ is approaching. None will be
admitted but the righteous; the ungodly must be destroyed beforehand.
Even ministers must take the sword and establish the new kingdom by
force. Then, desirous of assigning to each his part, they declared that
‘Luther and the pope were, indeed, both of them false prophets, but that
Luther was the worst.’[831] ‘The times of persecution are ended,’ cried
they, in the midst of the populations terrified by the cruelties of
Charles the Fifth; ‘you have nothing more to fear. The moment is come in
which the faithful will triumph over the whole earth, and will render
unto tyrants double for the evil which they have done them.’ If any one
hesitated to believe the prophets, they charged him with resisting the
Spirit of God; called him Korah, Abiram, or Jambres; and the poor
people, afraid of opposing a divine mission, accepted with trembling the
promises which were to put an end to their sufferings. The tailor
Bockhold preached thus at Amsterdam, Enkhuysen, Alkmaar, Rotterdam and
elsewhere, establishing in all these places small communities of the
faithful, numbering from ten to twenty persons. The thought that the
cruel tyranny of Charles was about to be brought to judgment, and that
it was necessary to hasten the end, took possession of men’s minds. They
became restless, and had no thought but of taking vengeance on those
whose instruments were the pit, the fire, and the sword.

[Sidenote: Delusions.]

One night, in a solitary spot in the province of Groningen, a man rose
in the midst of a great multitude which had come together from all
quarters. He was naked to the waist, his soul was troubled, his
intellect disordered, his thoughts incoherent; and, in a state of the
strangest hallucination, he cried out with an unsteady and inharmonious
voice, ‘I am God the Father.... Kill, kill the priests and the monks;
kill the magistrates of the whole world, but especially those who govern
us. Repent ye, repent ye! Behold, your deliverance is at hand.’ This
maniac, whose name was Hermann, gave utterance to terrible groans and
vociferations,[832] and heated and inflamed as he was, he drank great
draughts of wine to allay his thirst.

The rumor was continually gaining ground that the hour of judgment was
approaching, that all the faithful would be saved, but that unbelievers
would perish under severe chastisements. More than three hundred men
hurried together in a single night, filled with alarm, and demanded with
loud cries the baptism which was to shelter them from the judgments of
heaven, and they received it, convinced that all those who had not
received it were going to perish.

A spirit of darkness was more and more diffusing itself among the poor
and ignorant men who were terrified by the executions. It seized even
upon the most vulgar classes, worked them up to a state of fatal fear,
and subjected them to the force of extravagant imaginations. One night,
a young gardener[833] got up and went to the bedside of Hermann, who
gave himself out as the Father eternal, and said to him, ‘I am the Son
of God.’ Then, filled with pity for the wretched ones who were
persecuted by the agents of the emperor and of the priests, and who did
not believe in the deliverance proclaimed, he cried out, ‘O Father, have
pity on the people: have pity! and pardon.’ A great crowd had assembled;
he took a cupful of strong drink and drank it, intending to honor the
Holy Spirit; then mounting on a chair, he uttered piercing cries,
proclaiming himself the Son of God. Seeing his mother in the crowd, he
turned to her: ‘Dost thou not believe,’ he said before them all, ‘and
dost thou not confess that thou hast brought forth the Son of God?’ The
poor woman, astonished and alarmed, not knowing what had happened to her
son, replied quite simply that she did not. The deluded man then flew
into a rage and so terrified his poor mother that she stammered out,
tremblingly, that she did believe it. But one of the men who were
present, having declared that he for his part did not believe it at all,
the demoniac seized him and hurled him violently into the filth of a
dunghill that lay near a cow-shed. ‘Behold,’ he said, ‘thou art lying in
the abyss of hell.’ A robust man, who had good sense and was indignant
at these fooleries, now seized him and threw him down. Others, not very
tolerant, threw themselves upon the raving maniac and overwhelmed him
with blows; so that the unfortunate man had much difficulty in making
his escape by flight from the hands of those who so roughly chastised
him. As to Hermann, he was arrested by order of the magistrate,
conducted to Groningen, and cast into prison. The atrocious cruelties of
Louis XIV. also gave rise to similar acts on the part of enthusiasts.
But there is no room for comparison between the sincere and often pious
Camisards and the coarse and impure fanatics of the Netherlands. These
facts of different kinds agree only in showing the fatal consequences of
the criminal persecutions of the papacy. The sect of the enthusiasts,
however, became purer in course of time.

[Sidenote: Adoption Of Calvinism.]

At the same time an important change was gradually effected among the
evangelicals who remained faithful to the Word of God. A profound
acquaintance with the history of the Netherlands in the sixteenth
century has not in all cases excluded a mistake—not, however, very
widely spread—as to the origin of the Reformation in these provinces. It
has been asserted that it had found its way thither, not through
Germany, but through France, by means of the Huguenots.[834] We have
seen that it came direct from Wittenberg, and that at the very beginning
of the movement. From what took place at Antwerp and in other towns,
there is no room for doubt on the subject. But after those mad, fierce
displays of fanaticism, that portion of the evangelicals which had
continued sane (and this formed the great majority), sided by preference
with the French and Swiss Reformation; and step by step the Netherlands,
which had apparently embraced the Reformation of Luther, attached
themselves to that of Calvin. Geneva took the place of Wittenberg.
Viglius, who was appointed by Charles the Fifth president of the great
council at Mechlin, said—‘There are but few who adhere to the confession
of Augsburg; Calvinism has taken possession of almost all hearts.’[835]
To assert that the sole cause of this movement was the fanaticism which
passed from the banks of the Rhine into the Netherlands would be an
exaggeration. There were other causes at work in this transformation;
but the enthusiasm, the disgust, and the alarm which it aroused went for
much. This fact is no disparagement to Lutheranism, for Luther and his
adherents were ‘at this time the most vigorous censurers of these
disorderly proceedings.’ One other cause besides might be assigned for
the change, so remarkable and almost unique, which was brought about in
the Netherlands. It was in this country that the most furious
persecution raged. Now, it has been remarked that those reformed parties
which were the objects of violent persecution were those which rejected
images, crucifixes, and every thing which tradition has bequeathed to
some Protestant churches, and resolved to maintain the conflict
according to the teaching of the Scriptures, only by the word of their
testimony and by the blood of the Lamb. This remark is worthy of some
attention; but it must not be forgotten that no one drew more strength
than Luther did from the arsenal of the Word of God.

Footnote 801:

  Dumont, _Corps universel diplomatique_, iv. pp. 1, 5.

Footnote 802:

  Haræi, _Annales Ducum Brabantiæ_, ii. p. 582, Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 65. Brandt, Schook.

Footnote 803:

  Pontanus, _Hist. Geldr._ lib. xi. fol. 762.

Footnote 804:

  Sleidan, Scultetus, Rabus, _Martyrologium_, Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. pp.
  41, 67. Melchior Adam.

Footnote 805:

  ‘Sine mora fidei suæ rationem exhibendam esse.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 68.

Footnote 806:

  Ephes. vi. 17.

Footnote 807:

  ‘Illa confessio ingenua certe ac singulari pietate
  conspicua.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 70.

Footnote 808:

  ‘Magno piorum luctu vivus sit combustus.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 809:

  Brandt.

Footnote 810:

  ‘Pro quibus non semel, timide licet et verecunde, apud Cæsarem
  intercesserat.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 74.

Footnote 811:

  Sarpi, _Hist. of the Council of Trent_, § lxi.

Footnote 812:

  ‘Sunt quidam partim cognati mei partim noti partim etiam qui fuerunt
  discipuli mei.’—Letter from Crocus to the official of Utrecht, 1531.
  Foppens, _Bibliotheca Belgica_, i. p. 197. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  76.

Footnote 813:

  ‘Mense proximo quidam illorum navibus profecturi sunt in partes
  orientales, ut hic Amsterdami mos est.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 76.

Footnote 814:

  Pauli Merulæ, _Descriptio rerum adv. Ang. Merulam gestarum_, p. 108.

Footnote 815:

  ‘Quum. . . imprimis de justificatione ex sola fide doctrinam
  evangelicam urgeret.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 77.

Footnote 816:

  ‘Assertiones fidei ad Satanæ satellitium.’—_Ibid._ p. 78.

Footnote 817:

                  ‘Sed postquam virtus duris exercita fatis
                    Destituit corpus, spiritus astra tenet.’

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 78.

Footnote 818:

  ‘Et candentem crucem cauterio inurendam.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p.
  79.

Footnote 819:

  ‘Cæsar suis fidelibus salutem.’—Edict of 1529.

Footnote 820:

  Brandt. i. p. 37.

Footnote 821:

  ‘Legatos Cæsaris admittere suam in urbem noluerunt.’—Revii, _Deventria
  illustrata_, p. 250. Gerdesius. _Ann._ iii. 80.

Footnote 822:

  ‘Ad Montana Rotfeldii.’—_Histoire des Martyrs_, fol. 686.

Footnote 823:

  ‘Jubilis dicuntur replevisse viam supplicii.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 80.

Footnote 824:

  Gerdesius. Brandt, i. p. 40.

Footnote 825:

  Brandt, i. p. 40.

Footnote 826:

  Brandt i. p. 41.

Footnote 827:

  Röhrich, _Ref. in Elsass_, i. p. 338. Ranke, iii p. 367.

Footnote 828:

  ‘In Transisalania arma bellica apud sectarios quosdam
  inveniri.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 82.

Footnote 829:

  ‘Non papismum solum, sed Lutheri quoque et Zwinglii doctrinam
  vehementer reprehendebat.’—_Ibid_. p. 83. Emmius, _Hist. rer. Frisic._
  lib. lv. p. 860.

Footnote 830:

  ‘Se Enochum esse affirmavit.’—Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 87.

Footnote 831:

  ‘Lutherum et pontificem Romanum esse falsos prophetas, Lutherum tamen
  altero deteriorem.’—Opus restitutionis. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 83.

Footnote 832:

  ‘Ululantem potius quam clamantem.’—Emmius, _Hist. rerum Frisicarum_,
  lib. lvii. fol. 884. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 91.

Footnote 833:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 92.

Footnote 834:

  See Mr. Motley’s great work on the Foundation of the United Provinces,
  part ii. ch. i. It contains an account of the early days of the
  Reformation in the Netherlands. The Christianity which was propagated
  in the times of which we are speaking became the principal cause of
  the great and tragic revolution described by this historian.

Footnote 835:

  ‘Confessioni Augustanæ paucissimi adherent, sed Calvinismus omnium
  pæne corda occupavit’—Viglius van Zuichem to Hopper.




                              CHAPTER XII.
                                LOUVAIN.
                              (1537-1544.)


At this point the history of the Netherlands presents to us a noble
spectacle: we see on the one hand the little ones, those unknown to the
world, serving God with fervor and indomitable resolution, and on the
other hand, persecutors thirsting for their blood, and conflicts and
martyrdoms awaiting them. The heroism of the lowly appears infinitely
small in the eyes of the world. In our eyes it is one of the glories of
the Reformation, that in its history the little ones are especially
brought before us. This is one of the features which distinguish it from
secular history, which takes delight chiefly in palaces and in the
splendid achievements of conquerors.

[Sidenote: Evangelists At Ghent.]

At Brussels, Antwerp, Louvain, Ghent, and other towns, there were many
friends of the Gospel. Evangelical Christianity was continually gaining
strength, but at the same time Romish fanaticism was also on the
increase. Ghent, a town of such extent that it was called _a country
rather than a town_, contained at this period numerous adherents of the
Reformation. So much did they hunger and thirst after sound doctrine
that, in 1537, when a preacher who spoke French only preached the Gospel
in this town, where nothing but Flemish was understood, numberless
hearers thronged around him and hung upon his lips. Pierre Bruly
(Brulius)—this was his name—spoke with such fervor of spirit, and with
eloquence so forcible, that the Flemings, although they could not
understand what he said, were edified by the earnest and affectionate
feeling with which he spoke. When the sermon was over, some of his
hearers who could afford it, anxious to know exactly what was said by a
preacher who pleased them so much, betook themselves to persons who were
acquainted with both languages, and, taking out of their pockets the
small bag in which they carried their money, said to them—‘Translate to
us, if you please, the discourse which the preacher has delivered; we
will give you so much for it.’[836] More than three hundred of the
Ghentese, men and women, appear to have been converted by the preaching
of Bruly. As he was anxious, however, to address people who could
understand him, he left Flanders three or four years later, and went to
Strasburg, where he succeeded Calvin as pastor of the French Church.
People said of him—‘He has, like the young Picard (Calvin) a pure
doctrine and a spotless life.’ We shall meet with him again hereafter in
Belgium.

Happily, other friends of the Gospel still remained in Ghent. There was
Clava, an old man in years, said Erasmus, but who always renews his
youth like the spring-tide and bears the most beautiful fruit; Jean
Cousard also, who had been a correspondent of Zwinglius; and especially
the four Utenhovs. Nicholas Utenhov, a distinguished jurisconsult, an
elegant littérateur, a wise, modest, and upright man, long held at
Ghent, with high honor, the presidency of the Supreme Council of
Flanders. Every moment of leisure that he could snatch amidst the noises
of the palace, the numerous causes brought before him, the exclamations
of the suitors and the advocates who were about him, Utenhov employed in
reading the Holy Scriptures; and he frequently devoted to the study of
them part of the night.[837]

Martin van Cleyne, a physician, a commentator on Hippocrates and Galen,
tasted the Word of God, rejoicing to see how faith and the Gospel healed
sick souls and gave them a new life. In the practice of his art he had
never seen such marvellous cures; and he said to himself that, in spite
of all the efforts which physicians make to heal them, men nevertheless
die at last; while Jesus Christ heals forever and makes immortal. He
therefore began to communicate to his friends and neighbors the
sovereign remedy which he had discovered. But, being persecuted by the
Inquisition, he went to London under the assumed name of Micron, and
became pastor of the Belgian church there.[838]

When Alasco arrived at Louvain he found there zealous partisans both of
the papacy and the Gospel; on the one side theologians and fanatical
monks, and on the other a little flock among the citizens who received
gladly the light of the Gospel. A lady, belonging to one of the
principal families of the town, Antoinette Haveloos (born van Roesmals)
many of whose ancestors had in old times occupied the foremost place in
the state, was animated with a lively piety, and, by her virtues, was an
example to all the town.[839] She possessed at this time a competency,
which she afterwards lost, and she joyfully practised hospitality. It
was in her house that Alasco took up his abode when he came to
Louvain.[840] Antoinette was then about fifty-two years of age, and she
resided at a place called Bollebore, from a fountain situated near the
river La Vuerre. ‘Above all things she was given to reading and
meditating on the Holy Scriptures; and by this means she became
acquainted with the will of God, which she also put in practice,
discharging towards her neighbors the offices of charity.’[841] She was,
moreover, regarded as the soul of the Reformation in Louvain. She had a
daughter named Gudule, elegant in figure, perfectly beautiful and
refined, at this time in the flower of her age.[842] Gudule was reserved
and modest, and did not make much display of her religious sentiments;
but she had deep feeling and especially great love for her mother.
Antoinette’s family circle was large, and her nephews and nieces had
almost all become believers in the Gospel.

[Sidenote: Jan Van Ousberghen.]

The Reformation also counted numerous friends beyond the limits of this
family. The most faithful evangelist of Louvain was Jan van Ousberghen.
His was not a spirit restless with rash zeal. The bookseller Jerome
Cloet, who was well acquainted with him, called him ‘the quietest man in
Louvain.’[843] He appears to have been well educated, and to have read
the Latin works on the faith which were published in Germany and
elsewhere. He let no opportunity slip of making the Gospel known, and
souls were enlightened by his private conversation. ‘To the instructions
of Jan van Ousberghen,’ said a pious woman, Catherine, the wife of the
sculptor Beyaerts, ‘I am indebted for the sentiments which I
profess.[844] Still more frequently Ousberghen spoke at meetings held in
private houses, in the farms of the neighborhood, and in the open air.
There were also at Louvain a small number of priests who, although they
acted with less freedom than Ousberghen, nevertheless exercised a
powerful influence. Among them was one man of sixty, feeble in body, his
head hoary with age, modest, but very learned. His name was Paul van
Roovere. He possessed many hymns, psalms, and other writings in the
vulgar tongue (Flemish), besides the Holy Scriptures, in the study of
which he spent his time.[845] He was a poet and was very skilful in
versification; he was likewise a musician and player on the flute. The
evangelicals of Louvain frequently accosted him when they saw him in the
street, at church, or in the cathedral of Louvain, where he appears to
have discharged some ecclesiastical functions. The sculptor Jan
Beyaerts, one day in Lent, entered into conversation with him in St.
Peter’s church, opposite to the altar of St. Ann. They spoke of the
communion, and Master Paul, setting transubstantiation aside, said that
the holy supper was simply a pledge which Christ had left to us of his
passion by which we are saved. Master Paul had established a charitable
fund for the poor reformed Christians; and when he went to the house of
Catherine Sclercx, the wife of Rogiers, he used frequently to give her
money to distribute to the poor, ‘because he knew that she liked to
visit the houses of the needy.’[846] This pious priest was at the same
time an agreeable man, and his conversation ‘turned upon entertaining
subjects.’ He was a handsome old man, always kindly and good-humored.
‘Sincere convictions,’ it has been observed, ‘do not exclude the love of
the fine arts or the graces of wit.’[847]

Master Paul had a friend, Matthew van Rillaert, with whom ‘he often
talked about the word of God and the sacrament of the Eucharist, and
discussed the questions whether communion should be in both kinds and
whether priests ought to marry.’ ‘Ah,’ said Matthew, ‘better take a wife
than commit the sin of fornication.’ He often went to the shop of the
bookseller Jerome Cloet, and ‘there religious subjects were talked of,
the councils of the Church and justification by faith.’[848] But among
the believers, of Louvain the most eminent was Master Peter Rythove,
school-master of St. Gertrude, who, in this capacity, was entrusted with
the education of young men intended for the ministry. He was a
well-informed man, and the most learned of the theologians. He was a
frequent visitor at the bookseller Cloet’s, and used even to buy books
on botany, medicine, and other sciences.[849]

[Sidenote: An Innocent Walk.]

One of the most noteworthy personages of the evangelical band at Louvain
was Jacques Gosseau, bachelor of the Civil and Canon Laws, and formerly
dean of the Drapers’ Guild. He lived on his fortune. He had married
Mary, the niece of Antoinette van Roesmals. One day, at vintage-time,
when Antoinette, her daughter Gudule, and other friends were at his
house, Mary said that she had a great longing to eat some grapes, and
proposed to go to Rosselberg to the vineyard of her sister Martha. The
Rosselberg is a line of hills which takes its name from the ferruginous
color of the soil. Extensive vineyards existed there till the
seventeenth century. ‘With all my heart,’ said Antoinette. The company
rose to depart. It was in the afternoon. When they came to the ramparts,
near the gates of the city, they met the evangelist Van Ousberghen, Jan
Beyaerts and his wife Catherine. They walked on together towards the
Rosselberg; and on the way Jan van Ousberghen, began to read in the New
Testament. They arrived at the vineyard. The porter, said one of the
accused, was ‘a believer.’ They ate some grapes; and then on their way
back the party took the road to Boschstrathen, and sat down for a while
in the fields. Jan van Ousberghen again took his precious volume and
read in the New Testament. Many persons were afterwards prosecuted for
this innocent walk.[850]

But the conferences on matters of faith, as they used to call them, were
chiefly held at the house of Antoinette, either at Bollebore or at the
black Lys, where she afterwards took up her abode.

There were present both men and women of various ranks, who freely
conversed with one another. It is probable that Alasco attended these
meetings, especially those held at Antoinette’s house, in which he often
resided. His name, however, does not appear in the interrogatories. Jan
Schats often read the Bible there. There is no purgatory, said he; the
soul, when it escapes from the body, rests until the day of judgment in
a place which God knows.[851] Jan Vicart, the haberdasher of the Golden
Gate, said—‘There are two churches, the Christian church and the church
of Rome. It is enough for us to make confession to God, because from Him
cometh all salvation. I receive the sacrament in remembrance of Christ,
and I bring up my daughters in these sentiments.’[852]

[Sidenote: Boldness Of Beyaerts.]

The faith of some of these disciples was not steadfast and pure. The
sculptor Beyaerts was one of the frequenters of these meetings; but he
held some views which were more ardent than profound, and had more
enthusiasm than steadfastness in his faith. In each of the churches of
St. Peter and St. James there was a picture intended to impress the
parishioners and induce them to come forward to the help of souls
detained in purgatory. Beyaerts devoted himself to the task of putting
an end to the scandal which these pictures occasioned among his friends.
One evening he went by stealth into St. Peter’s church, near the tower,
under the bells, by the side of a crucifix. He was alone in the church;
he took down the picture, concealed it under his gown, and went quickly
away. Meeting Catherine Sclercx, she saw the picture and said to him,
‘Well done.’ Beyaerts did the same with the picture in St. James’s
church, and all his friends were pleased, and said that these pictures
were ‘wicked cheats.’ But this same man, now so bold, displayed
lamentable weakness when brought before the judges.

But there was something more than weakness. The Spirit of God was
carrying on His work at Louvain and in the Netherlands, but the evil one
was not idle. A black sheep had crept into the fold. George Stocx, a
member of a chamber of rhetoric, and author of various songs and poems,
appears to have belonged to the party of the libertines. While he was a
devout speaker at the meetings he denied his doctrine by his manner of
life. He sought after opportunities of luxurious living, sang verses
which excited laughter, danced and drank. One evening after attending a
feast at Gempe, he was so drunk when the time came for returning to
Louvain that they had to throw him into a wagon.[853]

It was otherwise with Jan van Ousberghen. With respect to him there was
but one testimony. He was a holy man, people said, who had suffered much
for the glory of God.[854] He had strong faith in Christ, great piety,
singular modesty, and marvellous steadfastness. He was the soul of the
meetings held in the house of Antoinette. But two calamities
successively occurred to waste the little Christian flock. An epidemic
broke out in Louvain, apparently in 1539. It attacked especially the
household of Antoinette, and carried off her husband and several of her
children. The disconsolate widow took refuge, with Gudule, who was
spared to her, in one of the towers of the town. These towers looked
over the country, and the plague-stricken were compelled to resort to
them, to prevent contagion spreading in the town. This epidemic, which
took from Antoinette the objects of her tenderest affections, made a
change also in her condition of life. She was henceforth ‘a poor old
woman, laden with poverty and sufferings, having lost all that she
possessed, even her very means of subsistence.’[855] But the Gospel
remained to her.

[Sidenote: Arrests By Night.]

The persecution of 1540 had been only partial. The inquisitors were
provoked to see that it had not put an end to what they called heresy.
Evangelical books and lectures were multiplied. The theologians and the
monks—the band of Pharisees, as they were called by a minister of the
day—multiplied their complaints and outcries. The Council of Brabant
resolved, at the beginning of 1543, to make a general arrest of
suspected persons at Brussels, Antwerp, Oudenarde, and especially at
Louvain, where the reformed Christians were taking greater and greater
liberties. In the course of March the attorney-general, Peter du Fief, a
man notorious for his violent and unjust proceedings, arrived at
Louvain. He determined, in order that none of those who had been
denounced to him might escape, to apprehend them in a body during their
first sleep. One night, in the middle of March, when it was already
dark, Peter du Fief assembled his men and informed them that the
business in hand was the seizure and imprisonment of all the heretics,
without any noise, and without words, in the darkness. Between ten and
eleven o’clock at night the officers set out on their way. The poor
people, mostly of the class of artisans, wearied with their day-labor,
had lain down to rest in their beds without a thought of any thing
happening.[856] The officers knocked at the door. If perchance the
father of the family, on account of his hard work, had fallen into a
sound sleep and did not immediately come to open to them, the door was
broken down, and these _brigands_ hastened violently to the very bedside
of the father. There they took by surprise the husband and the wife,
who, starting out of sleep, stared about, wondering what was the matter.
The sergeants immediately laid hands on the husband, sometimes on both
husband and wife, according to orders, and took them away.[857] Thus
were seen leaving their homes the sculptor Beyaerts and his wife
Catherine, Dietrich Gheylaert and his wife Mary, van der Donckt and his
wife Elizabeth. The children, who were beside their parents, sometimes
even in the same bed, were the last to wake, and they all trembled. The
whole house was filled with armed men, torches were flaring here and
there, soldiers were ferreting about in every corner in search of books
or men—a suspected book was sufficient ground for a sentence of
death—drawn swords, halberts and cuirasses gleamed in the pale light of
the torches. The little ones, who saw their father and mother ill-used,
dragged one this way, the other that way, and carried off with their
hands bound, wept and cried aloud. They called after them—‘Where are you
going, father? Where are you going, mother? Who is going to stay here?
Who will give us our food to-morrow?’ The sergeants, fearing that the
neighbors would hear these cries and come to help them, seized the
little ones. ‘The poor children were flogged,’ says the chronicler. As
they only cried the more, their mouths were closed by force.

Nevertheless, the constables did this to no purpose, for the uproar was
too loud not to be heard. Many evangelicals, ‘when they perceived these
boors were coming,’ threw themselves out of bed, leaped over the walls
in their shirts, and made their escape. Sometimes ‘some good people’
came with all speed to warn their friends, who then escaped; and this
greatly increased the fury of the tyrants. The attorney-general,
inflamed with rage and hatred against the truth, kept up the hunt all
night with his men; and nothing could pacify his wrath but committing to
prison twenty-three of the townsmen, fathers and children, husbands and
wives, brothers and sisters, of various classes. He had them confined in
different places, giving orders that they should not be allowed to read,
to write, or to speak to any one, whether it were father, mother, or
wife. Besides those whom we have named, there were also seized
Antoinette van Roesmals, the chaplain Paul de Roovere, the parson van
Rillaert, the Sclercx, Schats, Vicart, Jerome Cloet, and others, who,
when thus torn away from their homes, were persuaded that nothing short
of their death would allay the rage of their enemies.

The honest townsmen of Louvain could not restrain their indignation.
‘What!’ said they, addressing the cruel du Fief, ‘thou art sending to
prison people who by their virtue gave a good example to the whole town!
Have they stirred up any sedition? Hast thou seen a single one of their
number with a bloody sword in his hand? How durst thou lay on innocent
men those unclean and sacrilegious hands with which thou hast pillaged
the holy places, and robbed the poor of their earnings? Will not these
houses into which thou dost make bold to enter for the purpose of
persecution fall on thee?‘[858]

[Sidenote: The Examinations.]

The examinations forthwith began. Latomus, a doctor of the university of
Louvain, famous for his controversy with Luther, the dean, Ruard Tapper,
of Enkhuysen, whom the pope six years before had nominated
inquisitor-general of the Netherlands, and others besides, betook
themselves every day to the prisons; and they went ‘as if they were
going to a combat, equipped and tricked out at all points against a body
of poor weak women. The younger prisoners modestly kept silence; but the
more experienced turned the arguments of the theologians against
themselves, so that the latter retreated in confusion.’

It was on the 20th of March, 1543, that the inquiry began. Catherine
Sclercx, wife of Jacques Rogiers, an apothecary, was brought up _pede
ligato_ on that day, on March 31, and on June 13. ‘What do you hold
about the invocation of saints?’ they said to her. ‘I am little
practised in discussion,’ replied Catherine, ‘but I will not hold any
thing except what Holy Scripture teaches. It is there said _we must
worship God only_ and _there is only one Mediator_. I have therefore
purposed in my own mind to worship and to invoke none but Him.’ ‘What
impudence!’ said the theologians; ‘thou art venturing, with hands full
of uncleanness, to present thyself before God. If the emperor came into
this town, wouldst thou not, before approaching him, appeal to Monsieur
de Granvella, in order that he might recommend thee to him?’ ‘But see,’
simply answered Catherine, ‘suppose the emperor were at a window and
called me with his own tongue, saying—“Woman, thou hast to do with me;
come up hither, I will grant thee what thou shalt ask for,” would you
still counsel me to wait until I had gained friends at court?’ This
noble woman then said, with a holy boldness—‘I have a heavenly emperor,
Jesus Christ, the redeemer of the world. He says aloud to all men, Come
unto me! It is not to one or two of you, gentlemen, our masters, that he
speaks this word. It is to all; and whosoever, feeling the burden of his
sins pressing upon his soul, hastens in tears to respond to the call of
God’s mercy, needs no other advocate, neither St. Peter nor St. Paul, to
procure him access to his prince.’ The judges in astonishment rose
without coming to any decision, contenting themselves with exclaiming,
as they went away, ‘A Lutheran.’ This was an argument which they found
unanswerable.[859]

‘Even the women mock at us,’ said the theologians; ‘let us put an end to
this trial as soon as possible, and let us begin with those of our own
order.’ They then gave orders to bring up the priest, Peter Rythove,
schoolmaster of Sainte-Gertrude. They were more afraid of him than of
any one, conscious that he knew them well and had the power of divulging
their frauds.[860] Word was brought to them that he had escaped. This
was an addition to their trouble. ‘Quick,’ they said; ‘let placards be
posted up that he may be arrested.’ He took good care not to make his
appearance, and they declared him to be an obstinate heretic. Then
flying to his house, like insatiable harpies,[861] they plundered him of
every thing that belonged to him. ‘O players!’ said honest men, ‘how
well you agree to perform your farces before the simple-minded people!
and especially never to return empty-handed to your homes!’

[Sidenote: Paul De Roovere.]

They now fell upon the poor priest, Paul de Roovere, and they were
determined to have him put to death with pomp and solemnity, and to
exhibit him as a public spectacle. Artisans set to work and erected a
platform in the great hall of the Augustines. On the day of the
exhibition a great crowd of townsmen and of students filled both the
hall and the adjacent streets. The procession advanced. At its head
there walked a small wan old man, thin, with a long white beard, and
almost wasted away with grief and exhaustion.[862] Truly, said the
spectators, this is the shadow of a man, a corpse already in a state of
decomposition. It was poor Paul surrounded by armed men. Behind them
came the dignitaries of the university, the heads of the convent, and
others of the clergy. These doctors, at once accusers and judges,
ascended the platform and took their seats in a circle, with Paul de
Roovere standing in the midst of them. There sat the chancellor,
Latomus, a great enemy to literary culture, who, when preaching one day
before Charles V., narrowly escaped being hissed by some lords of the
court.[863] By his side sat the dean and inquisitor, Ruard of Enkhuysen,
‘a man whose oratory was of the poorest kind, but whose cruelty was
extreme.’ Next to him was Del Campo a Zon, also an inquisitor, canon of
St. Peter’s, and rector for the occasion, who was called by some ‘the
devil incarnate,’ and there were several others. ‘Sergeants, armed at
all points, surrounded the platform, prepared to defend these brave
pillars of the Church.’ The rector, who was afterwards bishop of
Bois-le-Duc, rose, enjoined silence, and said with a loud
voice—‘Desirous of faithfully discharging our duty, which is to defend
the sheep against the furious assaults of wolves, to kill the latter and
to strangle them,[864] we present to you, as a rotten member of our
mystical body, which ought to be lopped and cut off, this man, in whose
house we have found a great number of Lutheran books, and who dares even
to say that to be saved it is enough to embrace the mercy of God offered
in the Gospel.’

Then, turning to the people, the rector, canon, and inquisitor
exclaimed—‘Beware, therefore, you who are here present, and let the
danger which threatens you, and the fear of losing your souls, restrain
you from despising the power of the Roman pontiffs. This wretch is
condemned to be degraded from the priesthood and delivered over to the
secular arm to undergo the punishment which he deserves.’

The rector was followed by Father Stryroy, prior of the Dominicans, a
vehement man, whose voice was a thunder-peal of audacity and impudence.
But some laughed at his storm of words, and others abhorred a course so
disgraceful. Many even talked of driving the orator and the judges from
their seats and of rescuing the priest Paul.[865] But no one was willing
to be captain and bell the cat. One glance from Paul would have
sufficed; but the poor priest, weakened in body as well as in mind,
remained motionless and silent, and thus disheartened his partisans. The
priests also had noticed the dejection of the old man. They determined
to take advantage of it; and, retiring into an adjoining hall, they
employed for the purpose of inducing him to recant vehement entreaties,
supplications, flattery, promises, and allurements. ‘The old man
resisted all.’ The inquisitors then, provoked, calling to remembrance
the tyrant of Agrigentum, who had his enemies burnt at a slow fire and
his friends in a copper bull, said to him—‘We will make you suffer more
grievous torture than any Phalaris ever inflicted.’ Paul trembled at
these words. He was led back to prison, and monks and theologians came
every day and talked to him about the cruel sufferings which were in
preparation for him.

[Sidenote: His End.]

Meanwhile the attorney-general was preparing for the trial of the
laymen. This lasted from March 21 to the end of April; but no sufficient
evidence was obtained. The judges now had the prisoners taken into the
great prison, where the rack was, and there they began that frightful
and marvellous process of which it has been said that it is perfectly
certain to ruin an innocent man who has a feeble constitution, and to
save a guilty man if he were born robust. This lasted fifteen days. The
torturers knew no pity for age, or sex, or infirmity. The poor women
were victimized (_géhennées_) and tormented as well as the men. The
piteous cries of these cruelly-tortured wretched ones were heard in the
streets of Louvain. Their voices, raised by grief to a higher pitch,
were borne to a distance. Inarticulate sounds, piercing words, repeated
exclamations, lamentations, weeping, mournful noises, broken sobs, and
dying voices spread terror everywhere. Throughout the town there was
nothing but sighs, tears, and lamentations from people of every class,
whose hearts were filled with grief.[866] Almost all were steadfast, but
one sad victim consoled the tyrants, as the chronicler calls them. They
had so terrified poor Paul that the wretched old man was seen ascending
the platform with trembling steps, and there he read a statement which
the theologians had prepared. He declared, with a voice scarcely
audible, ‘that he detested that religion which at the instigation of
Satan he had hitherto followed.’ Deep sighs and broken sobs every moment
interrupted him. Good men who heard him were touched with compassion at
the sight of this unfortunate victim. At the command of his masters, the
poor man took his books and cast them into the fire; while the doctors
and the judges, with an air of pride and triumph, insulted the Gospel of
God. The wretched man was placed in close confinement in the castle of
Vilvorde, was fed on bread and water only, and was not allowed to read
or to write, or to see any body. He was ‘like a dead body in a grave,
until at length he died there of exhaustion.’

It was now the turn of the other prisoners. Jan Vicart and Jan Schats
were taken to the town-hall, and there the attorney-general turned
towards them a cruel countenance and said—‘My friends, I am grieved at
your fate; but the devil has deceived you, and consequently you are
condemned to be burnt and reduced to ashes as men relapsed into
Lutheranism. If I were to act otherwise, I should not be Cæsar’s
friend.[867]

The whole city of Louvain was in a state of great excitement. Although
executions usually took place outside the town, the inquisitors had
determined that in this case the victims should suffer in the open space
before St. Peter’s Church, for the sake of terrifying the people. The
young Spaniard who relates these facts, and who was at this time on a
visit to Louvain, went to the spot at five o’clock in the morning. Many
workmen were already very busily engaged in enclosing a part of the
space, that no one might pass the barrier. They next set up in the
middle two crosses about the height of a man, and piled round them ‘a
great quantity of faggots and other wood.’ Afterwards, the
attorney-general and his attendants entered a house opposite to the
church, the windows of which looked out on the two crosses. All the town
companies had been ordered up ‘for daybreak,’ that the people might not
rescue the prisoners. The militiamen, who had escorted the magistrates,
encompassed the place, and showed by the expression of their faces that
they were there ‘by compulsion and with great reluctance.’ The two
prisoners at length appeared. There was first Jan Schats, now about
forty-three years old, whose principal crime was having had in his house
a German Bible, and read it, as well as the _Life of our Lord_, _the
Sinner’s Consolation_, the _Little Garden of the Soul_, _Emmaus_, and
other works bound together ‘in a leather cover.’ In addition to this, he
was accused of having visited those of his own creed who fell sick and
of having assisted them with his alms. By the side of Schats was Jan
Vicart, haberdasher, who was charged with the like offences.[868] These
two men, coming from rigorous confinement, and having suffered cruel
torture, were weak and almost half dead. Nevertheless, the bystanders
heard them lamenting their sins before God, and asserting that they
welcomed death, having confidence in the divine mercy.[869]

[Sidenote: Martyrdom.]

When their prayer was finished, the deathsman bound them to the two
stakes, placed a rope with a slip-knot round their necks, and then piled
faggots round them with straw and powder. At a signal from the
attorney-general, he tightened the rope to strangle them. The magistrate
then ‘displaying as much light-heartedness as if he had been named
emperor of the Romans,’ says an eye-witness, handed to the deathsman a
lighted torch, and in doing this he leaned forward so eagerly that he
narrowly missed falling from the window. The eyes of the multitude were
fastened on him, and they contemplated with astonishment, says the
chronicler, ‘his hideous face afire with rage, his fierce eyes, his
mouth which breathed out flames more terrible than those of the torch in
his hand. Many there were who uttered horrible imprecations against this
sanguinary monster.’[870] ‘Ere long the fire was so large that one might
have said the flames touched the clouds and would set them on fire. Some
jets of flame rose to such a height and made so much noise that it might
have been imagined loud voices were crying from heaven for vengeance.’

The next day it was the turn of the women. Two of them, both quite
elderly, who above all had steadfastly maintained the truth of the
Gospel, were condemned to the most cruel punishment, namely, to be
buried alive.[871]

One of these women was Antoinette van Roesmals, the friend of John
Alasco, of Hardenberg, and of Don Francisco de Enzinas, whose ancestors
had governed the state. She was now about sixty years of age, and was
full of faith and of good works. It was said in the town that her
kinsfolk, her friends, and even the bailiff, had offered a large sum of
money that she might be set at liberty, but in vain. She drew near to
the spot where she was to be laid alive in the ground. Gudule, her
beautiful daughter, in the flower of her age, who cherished the deepest
affection for her mother, would not be separated from her. ‘I will,’ she
said, ‘be a spectator of the sacrifice of my mother.’[872] It was
however agreed that she should not stand by the brink of the grave in
which she who had brought her into the world was to be buried alive, and
she consented to remain at a distance, if only she could see her mother.
Thus concealed in a place apart,[873] she saw the pious Antoinette led
to execution; she saw the grave prepared, and that her mother still
remained calm. Gudule was overwhelmed, silent and motionless. She shed
no tears; her whole life was in her gaze.[874] With fixed eye she
watched the progress of the dismal execution. But when she saw her
mother going down alive to the place of the dead, when the servants of
the executioners threw upon her some shovelfuls of earth and she began
to be covered with it, Gudule uttered a cry. From this moment she could
not refrain; her outcries were terrible. ‘O God!’ says an eye-witness,
‘with what lamentations, with what wailings she filled the air!‘[875]
Her tongue was at length loosed, she was no longer motionless. Reduced
to despair, she began to run about the streets of the town as if she had
lost her reason. Tears ran down from her eyes as from a fountain. She
plucked out her hair, she tore her face.[876] ‘The poor girl is still
living,’ says the witness who has left us the narrative of these events,
‘and I have good hope that she will never be forsaken of the everlasting
God, the Father of our deliverer, Jesus Christ, who is also the Father
of the orphan.’

We have been speaking of some humble Christians of Louvain; we must now
turn to their brethren at Brussels.

[Sidenote: Giles Tielmans.]

There had been signs of an awakening in this capital; and there were to
be found in it men who were truly imitators of Jesus Christ, a class
unhappily too small. One of the citizens, Giles Tielmans, a native of
Brussels, was not ‘of a rich family nor of great renown,’ but he had
acquired by his virtues a higher esteem, even on the part of the enemies
of pure doctrine. Giles had never wronged a single creature, and he had
always made it his aim to give pleasure to every body. He was now
thirty-three years of age, and no one had ever had a complaint against
him. If he encountered opposition he would give way. He would rather
relinquish his rights than quarrel about them, in order that he might in
this life maintain peace and charity.[877] This Christian man fulfilled,
both in the letter and in the spirit, the commandment of his master—‘If
any man will take thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.’ He had been
endowed by God with a good disposition, but ‘having begun to taste in
his youth the heavenly wisdom drawn from the sacred writings, this
natural goodness had improved to an incredible degree.’ His look was
sweet and modest, his deportment amiable, and every thing about him
revealed a soul holy and born for heaven, dwelling in a pure and chaste
tabernacle. He spent the greater part of his time in visiting the sick,
in relieving the poor, and in making peace between any of his neighbors
who might be at variance with each other. Tielmans used to say that it
was a disgraceful thing to pass one’s life in idleness. In order to
avoid this, to earn his living by his own labor, and to have something
to give to the poor, he had followed the trade of a cutler. He lived in
a very humble way, spending hardly any thing on himself, but
distributing among the needy the fruits of his toil, which God greatly
blessed. ‘He had thus won the love of the people.’ ‘All good men were
fond of talking with him; all listened to him, and all gave up their
property at his bidding.’[878] But if any one made him a present, ‘he
accepted it only for the purpose of relieving some poor person known to
him.’ He had at Brussels his baker, his shoemaker, his tailor, and his
apothecary. Of the first he took bread for the hungry; of the second
shoes for the barefooted; of the third garments to cover the naked in
winter; and of the fourth medicines to cure the sick. The physician he
paid out of his own purse.

His principal aim was to become well acquainted with the doctrines of
the Gospel. He therefore read the Scriptures diligently, and meditated
on them deeply. With so much fervor did he put forth all the energies of
his soul in prayer, that ‘oftentimes his friends found him on his knees,
praying and in a kind of rapture.’ He was a hard worker. He read all the
best books which were written on the doctrine of salvation, but
especially the Holy Scriptures; and when he explained the Christian
faith, it was with so much eloquence that people exclaimed—‘O pearl of
great price! why art thou still buried in darkness, whilst thou oughtest
to be kept in the sight and knowledge of all the world, esteemed and
prized by every one!‘[879]

[Sidenote: His Evangelical Zeal.]

In 1541, the epidemic raged again. Famine accompanied it. ‘The republic
was in great distress, and many poor people were in very great trouble.’
Tielmans sold his goods by auction, and they fetched a large sum. From
this time not a day passed but he went into the public institutions in
which the plague-stricken were treated. He gave them what they were in
want of; and served them with his own hands. He went to the inns where
strangers were entertained, and he removed the sick into his own house,
nursed and fed them. When they had recovered their health, he gave them
the means of pursuing their journey. One day he visited a poor woman who
was near her confinement. She had already five children who slept with
her every night. He immediately returned to his house, sent her his own
bed, the only one which remained in his possession, and slept himself on
straw.[880]

He was physician not only to the bodies of men, but also to their souls.
He came to the bedside of sick persons and taught them to know the
Saviour. With great power he said to them—‘Trust not in your own works.
The mercy of God alone can save you, and this is to be laid hold of by
faith in Christ.[881] So vast was the extent of sin that divine justice
could be appeased only by the sacrifice of the Son of God. At the same
time, the love of God towards man was so unspeakable that He sent his
Son into the world, from the hidden place of his abode,[882] to cleanse
men from sin by his own blood and to make us inheritors of his heavenly
kingdom.’ So energetic were the words of Tielmans that many of those
‘who lay upon their death beds attacked by the pestilence, in distress
and consternation and a prey to all the horrors which follow in its
train, seemed to recover life; and, casting away all pharisaical
opinions and all trust in their own deservings, embraced the doctrine of
the Saviour, and passed joyfully to their heavenly home.’ Those who
escaped the contagion, having been brought by the Word to the knowledge
of the truth, were scattered about in the neighboring towns, and sowed
there what they had learnt of it; go that by these means ‘religion had
been restored in its purity in the whole of Brabant.’ Such was the life
of Giles Tielmans. In him faith and works were admirably united. This
case is one of the fruits of the Reformation which it is worth while to
know.

Persecution had not been slow in causing agitation and terror among the
faithful of Louvain. Unfortunately, not all of those who ‘said that they
had tasted of the Gospel and had laid hold of the true religion’ were
able to persevere. There were several such at Louvain, and especially
among those who belonged to the higher classes, who no longer showed any
sign of true Christianity, and who, though they did not believe in
Romish doctrines, yet gave out that they did, and became thorough
hypocrites. They broke off intercourse with those who in their opinion
might compromise them. If they had in their households any pious men,
they expelled them, bidding them provide for themselves elsewhere. ‘Ah!’
said one of those who were thus turned into the street, ‘I marvel at the
thoughtlessness of men. Is there any greater virtue, any ornament of
life more excellent than to maintain true religion, with high courage
and unconquerable spirit, even to one’s last breath? It gives me great
pain to see people, who were not among the worst, lose heart at the
first breathing of the storm, and like cowards put off the profession of
piety.’

The same blow fell upon Brussels. The parish of La Chapelle had for its
parson a fanatical priest named William Guéné, ‘a wicked rake,’ says the
chronicler. The incumbent of this benefice was William de Hoowere,
bishop _in partibus_ of Phœnicia, suffragan vicar of the bishop of
Tournay. But as other offices prevented his giving his personal services
in the parish, he had entrusted the administration to Guéné, with the
title of vice-pastor. This Guéné, ‘who ought rather to be called a wolf,
considering his wicked tricks and his abominable actions,’ was
continually making outcries in public, and particularly against the
pious Giles Tielmans, a man so rich in good works. He put questions to
him in his sermons, ‘swore and called upon heaven and earth to witness
that, if this man were not taken out of the way and put to death, the
whole country would in a little while be of his opinion.’ Guéné did not
confine himself to saying these things in his church; but went to the
attorney-general and formally accused ‘this innocent and excellent man.’
Peter du Fief did not wait to be told a second time. He seized Tielmans
and put him in prison. Matters did not stop here.[883] More than three
hundred suspected persons, inhabitants of the towns of Brabant and
Flanders, had been pointed out. Their names had been enrolled and their
persons were to be seized. Many of them resided at Brussels. There were
Henry van Hasselt, Jacob Vrilleman, Jan Droeshout, Gabriel the sculptor,
Christian Broyaerts and his wife, a niece of Antoinette van Roesmals,
and others, besides ‘a great number of the most respectable people of
the city.’ But the tragical scene at Louvain had raised the alarm. Many
took flight and remained in concealment in secret places. Some were,
however, arrested.

[Sidenote: Justus Van Ousberghen.]

There was one man more of note, and this was Justus van Ousberghen, next
to Tielmans the most devoted evangelist. No one had more zeal, no one
more courage, as a preacher of the Gospel. There was, however, one thing
of which he was afraid, and this was the stake. Heretics were condemned
to the flames; and the thought of being burnt, perhaps burnt over a slow
fire, caused him unheard of uneasiness and pain. And assuredly, many
might be uneasy at less. Nevertheless, he lost no opportunity of
proclaiming the Gospel. He was not at Louvain at the time of the
persecutions of March; but was then in an abbey about two leagues from
the town, where he was at work. The poor man had sore trials to bear.
His wife was a scold. Some time before the scenes of March 1543, Justus
had been absent from Louvain three or four months, no doubt for the
purpose of making known the Gospel at the same time that he was working
for his livelihood.

When he returned home, his wife, ‘instead of bidding him welcome,
received him in a shameful manner.’ ‘People have been to arrest you,’
she said to him; and she refused to admit him into their dwelling.
Justus, notwithstanding his zeal, was a man of feeble character, and his
wife ruled over him. He did not enter his house. Turned into the street,
and exhausted with fatigue, he questioned with himself whither he should
go. The heavens were black and the rain was falling in torrents. He
betook himself to the bachelor of arts, Gosseau, and requested him to
give him a bed for a single night. ‘I promise you I will go away
to-morrow morning,’ he said. The Gosseaus with pleasure complied with
his request. ‘You are quite chilly from the rain,’ they said; ‘first
warm yourself by the fire.’ The poor man dried himself, and then took a
little food. ‘God be praised,’ said he, ‘for all my miseries, and for
giving me strength to rise above them!’

Shortly after the terrible night of March, Justus, as we have mentioned,
was at an abbey two leagues from Louvain, where he was employed ‘in
trimming with fur the frocks of the monks,’ for he was a furrier by
trade. He had established himself at the entrance to the monastery, and
was doing his work without a thought of impending danger. Suddenly the
_drossard_ of Brabant made his appearance, with a great number of
archers. The _drossard_ was an officer of justice whose business was to
punish the excesses committed by vagrants. As the pious Van Ousberghen
used to travel from place to place to get work, the magistrate had
affected to consider him not as a heretic—this would have been honoring
him too much—but as a vagrant. ‘At once, all the archers,’ he related,
‘fell upon me as a troop of ravenous wolves fall upon a sheep; and they
instantly seized my skins and trade implements.’ The wolves, however,
did not content themselves with the skins, they seized the man and
carefully searched him. Ousberghen made no resistance. They found on him
a New Testament and some sermons of Luther ‘which he always carried in
his bosom.’ The archers were delighted with these discoveries. ‘Here,’
they said, pointing to the books, ‘here is enough to convict him.’ They
hastily bound him and took him to Brussels; and there he was confined in
the house of the _drossard_. The monks who had assembled were amazed at
the scene of violence which was presented at their own gates. They had
had no suspicion that a man who decorated their garments kept such
heretical books in his pocket.[884]

[Sidenote: His Trial.]

The next day two councillors of the chancery of Brabant appeared to
conduct his examination. ‘We shall have you put to the torture,’ they
said, ‘if you do not speak the truth.’ ‘I will speak it till death,’ he
answered, ‘and I shall need no torture to compel me.’ They asked him
what he thought of the pope, of purgatory, of the mass, of indulgences.
‘I believe,’ said he, ‘that salvation is given of God of his perfectly
free goodness;’ and he confirmed his faith by the words of Holy
Scripture. ‘Why,’ resumed the commissioners, ‘have you these books about
you, since it is not your calling to read?’ ‘It is my calling to read
what is necessary for my salvation,’ he replied. ‘The redemption
announced in the New Testament belongs to me no less than to the great
doctors or even the great princes of the world.’ ‘But these books are
heretical.’ ‘I hold them to be Christian and salutary.’ The Reformation
was and always will be the most powerful means of diffusing instruction.
Rome said to the people—‘It is not your business to read.’ And the
people, instructed by the Reformation, answered, ‘It is our business to
read that which saves us.’

The examination continued: ‘Discover to us your accomplices, heretical
like yourself,’ said the councillors. ‘I know no other heretics,’
replied Justus, ‘but the persecutors of the heavenly doctrine.’ This
word ‘persecutors’ suddenly enraged the commissioners. ‘You blaspheme,’
they exclaimed. ‘If you do not acknowledge that you lie, we will make
you undergo such torments as man has never yet suffered; we will tear
you limb from limb with a hot iron.’[885] ‘The _drossard_ saw with his
own eyes the monks of the convent where I was seized and which I
attended,’replied he; ‘if you wish to have them taken, do so at your own
good pleasure.’

[Sidenote: His Fears.]

Thereupon Justus was conducted to the prison of la Vrunte, into a lofty
chamber, railed in and barred, in which he was left for nine weeks
without seeing any one. Terrible were the assaults which he suffered in
his own soul. Left without any human support, and no longer feeling in
himself the same energy, the snares of the enemy, the remembrance of his
sins, the image of a cruel death by burning, astounded and made him
tremble. ‘Pray with me,’ he said to another prisoner; ‘entreat that the
mercy of God may keep me in the article of death, and that I may happily
reach the end of this Christian warfare.’ New strength was indeed given
him.

On the day of the departure of Charles the Fifth, who had stayed some
time at Brussels, Justus was brought before the court (January 3, 1544).
The commissioners read to him the confession made before them. ‘Do you
acknowledge it?’ they said. He answered that he did. ‘But,’ he added,
‘you have suppressed the testimonies of the Holy Scriptures by which I
confirmed it.’ ‘Since you acknowledge this confession,’ said the
councillors, ‘we summon you to retract it; otherwise you will be
tormented with unheard of pains, and burnt alive.’ ‘You may make use of
force,’ he answered, ‘but you can not compel me to this iniquity.’ ‘We
give you till to-morrow to consider it.’ As he was re-entering his
prison, tied and bound, Giles Tielmans approached him and said
affectionately, ‘What is the matter?’ ‘The Lord calls me,’ he answered.
Giles was going to speak further with him, but the archers roughly
thrust him back, saying—‘Off with thee; thou hast deserved to die as
much as he! Thy turn will come.’ ‘Think also of your own,’ said Giles.

On the following day, Justus was again brought before the judges. ‘Hast
thou changed thy opinion?’ they said to him. ‘If thou dost not retract
every thing thou wilt perish.’ ‘Never will I deny, on earth and before
men, the eternal truth of God, because I desire that it should bear
witness for me before the Father in heaven.’ Thereupon they condemned
him to be burnt alive. ‘Thy body shall be consumed,’ they said, ‘and
entirely reduced to ashes.’ This was enough to strike terror into the
heart of the poor man who had such a dread of fire; but falling upon his
knees he thanked God, and then his judges, for putting an end to the
miseries of his life. Terrified, however, at the thought of the flames,
he turned to his judges and said—‘Give permission for me to be
beheaded.’ ‘The sentence is passed,’ they said, ‘and can be revoked only
by the queen.’[886]

Giles Tielmans did not leave Ousberghen; consolations flowed from his
lips in accents so divine, with such energy, sweetness, and piety, that
every word went to the heart of the sufferer, and drew tears from his
eyes.’ Unfortunately, a great number of monks and priests kept coming,
and continually interrupted these delightful conversations. ‘Do not
trouble yourselves so much,’ said Justus to the monks; ‘but if you have
power to do any thing for me, only entreat of the judges that I may be
beheaded.’ His horror of burning did not abate. ‘We will see,’ they said
craftily, ‘whether it can be done.’ They then urged him to receive at
their hands the sacrament of the body and blood of the Saviour. ‘I long
ago received it for the first time spiritually,’ he said; ‘it is
engraved in living letters on the tables of my heart. Nevertheless, I do
not despise the symbols, and if you are willing to give me them under
the two kinds of bread and wine, according to the institution of the
Saviour, I will receive them.’ The monks consented. It was a large
concession on their part. The relator, however, who was in the prison,
is unable to assert that the Supper was thus given to him.[887]

On the eve of the execution, almost all the household went up to him. He
was very feeble, and suffered much from thirst. He turned, however, to
his friends and said—‘My death is at hand; and since all our sins were
nailed to the cross of our Saviour, I am ready to seal with my blood his
heavenly doctrine.’ They all wept, and falling on their knees, by the
mouth of Giles they commended Justus to the Lord. When the prayer was
finished, Ousberghen rose and said—‘I perceive within me a great light,
which makes me rejoice with joy unspeakable. I have now no other desire
than to die and be with Christ.’

[Sidenote: Martyrdom Of Tielmans.]

Two of the councillors had gone to the governess of the Netherlands, and
had requested her to substitute beheading for the stake. Queen Mary
instantly replied—‘I will do so; it is a very small favor where death is
not remitted.’ Was there any connection between this favor and the
consent of Justus to receive the Supper, at the hands of the priests,
provided it were administered under both kinds? We sometimes see even
strong minds shaken by some innate aversion, such as that which Justus
experienced at the thought of fire.

On January 7, early in the morning, the archers arrived. Justus van
Ousberghen was conducted from the prison to the market-place, and there
forthwith his head was cut off. While this was going on the whole prison
was in tears.[888]

The death of Justus was not enough. The priest of La Chapelle, William
Guéné and his band, were determined to have also that of Giles.

On January 22, the sergeants, who were to take him into a prison where
torture was applied, came for him. It was before daylight, at five
o’clock in the morning, because they feared the people. When Giles heard
that they were asking for him, he came; and seeing them all shivering
(it was very cold weather), he made them go into the kitchen and lighted
a fire for them. While they were warming themselves, he ran to his
friend, the Spaniard, who was in bed. ‘The sergeants are come,’ he said
‘to take me away to death or to some crueller fate.’

Tielmans was put to the torture; and on January 25th he was condemned to
be burnt. On the 27th, six hundred men were put under arms and escorted
him to the place. A vast pile was erected there. ‘There is no need of so
much wood,’ said he, ‘for burning this poor body. You would have done
better to show pity for the poor people who are dying of cold in this
town, and to distribute to them what there is to spare.’ They intended
to strangle him first, to mitigate the punishment. ‘No,’ said he, to
those who wished to grant him this kindness, ‘do not take the trouble. I
am not afraid of the fire, I will willingly endure it for the glory of
the Lord.’ He was prepared to face the sufferings which Justus had so
much dreaded. He prayed, and entered a little hut of wood and straw
constructed on the pile. Then, taking off his shoes, he said—‘There is
no need for these to be burnt; give them to some poor man.’ He knelt
down, and, the executioners having set fire to the pile, the
kind-hearted man was consumed and his ashes were flung into the river.

The people openly murmured against the monks, and from this time began
to hate them. When they came to the houses of the townsmen to ask alms,
the people used to answer—‘Giles was burnt for having distributed all
his property among the poor; as for us, we will give you nothing, for
fear of being likewise put to death.’[889]

END OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

Footnote 836:

  ‘Sibi pretio oblato ea explicari curarint quæ dicta erant.’—Gerdesius,
  _Ann._ iii. p. 126. Schoock, _De Canon. Ultraj._ p. 461.

Footnote 837:

  ‘Frequenter noctis aliquam partem huic curæ decidens.’—Erasmus,
  _Epist._ lib. xxviii. 23.

Footnote 838:

  Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii. p. 123.

Footnote 839:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 10. The Latin text of the memoirs of this
  Spanish Christian, and the French translation of the 16th century,
  were published by M. Campan, of the Belgian Historical Society, at
  Brussels in 1862. ‘Pietatis ardore flagrabat ... quæ virtutis ac
  pietatis velut exemplar semper fuisset habita.’—_Ibid._ i. pp. 104,
  106.

Footnote 840:

  ‘Antonia de præcipua pene familia urbis, cujus hospitio aliquando usus
  est D. Johannes a Lasco.’—_Ibid._ p. 102.

Footnote 841:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, translation of 1558, p. 105.

Footnote 842:

  ‘Filiam perelegantem, forma liberali atque ætate integra.’—_Ibid._ p.
  112.

Footnote 843:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, translation of 1558, p. 611.

Footnote 844:

  _Ibid._ p. 463.

Footnote 845:

  This passage and others are taken from the _pièces justificatives_ of
  the trial of the townsmen of Louvain. See _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. pp.
  466, 467, &c.

Footnote 846:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, p. 466.

Footnote 847:

  Campan. _Ibid._ p. 469.

Footnote 848:

  _Ibid._ pp. 539, 541.

Footnote 849:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, pp. 37, 619.

Footnote 850:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, pièces justificatives, i. pp. 324, 325, 331,
  409, 419, &c.

Footnote 851:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, pièces justificatives, i. p. 361.

Footnote 852:

  _Ibid._ pp. 379, 381.

Footnote 853:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 487.

Footnote 854:

  _Ibid._ ii. p. 249.

Footnote 855:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. pp. 319, 323, 391.

Footnote 856:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 14. The author of these _Memoirs_ arrived
  at Louvain the day after this occurrence.

Footnote 857:

  Crespin, _Actes des Martyrs_, iii. p. 125. _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p.
  15.

Footnote 858:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, iii. pp. 17, 18, 26. A general inquiry into the
  administration of Peter du Fief was afterwards instituted, and in the
  year following the inquiry he was no longer in office.

Footnote 859:

  Crespin, _Actes des Martyrs_, book iii. p. 125. Gerdesius, _Ann._ iii.
  p. 144. _Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. pp. 23-33.

Footnote 860:

  ‘Eorum fraudes et scelerata consilia præ ceteris propalare
  poterat.’—_Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 38.

Footnote 861:

  ‘Tanquam insatiabiles Harpyiæ.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 862:

  ‘Homo perpusillus, barba prominenti, exsanguis, macilentus, dolore
  atque inedia pæne consumptus.’—_Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 40.

Footnote 863:

  ‘Riderent ac tantum non exsibilarent.’—_Ibid._ i. p. 46.

Footnote 864:

  ‘Lupos occidere ac trucidare debemus.’—_Ibid._ i. p. 58.

Footnote 865:

  ‘Vidi et audivi multos in eo loco. . . qui deposuissent.’—_Memoirs of
  Enzinas_, i. p. 68.

Footnote 866:

  ‘Clamores tristissimi eorum qui in carcere cruciabantur, universam
  urbem personabant, ut nemo quantumvis barbarum aut efferatum natura
  finxisset, sine ingenti animi dolore, miserandos illos gemitus et
  clamores audire potuisset.’—_Memoirs of Enzinas_, i. p. 74.

Footnote 867:

  ‘Et si vos dimitterem, non essem amicus Cæsaris.’—_Ibid._ i. p. 82.

Footnote 868:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, pièces justificatives. Interrogatoires, i. pp.
  337-383.

Footnote 869:

  _Ibid._ i. p. 93.

Footnote 870:

  ‘Plures fuerant qui horrendis imprecationibus sanguinariam belluam
  diabolis devoverunt.’—_Ibid._ p. 94.

Footnote 871:

  Crespin, _Actes des Martyrs_, book iii. p. 126.

Footnote 872:

  ‘Spectatrix materni sacrificii.’—_Ibid._ p. 112.

Footnote 873:

  The old French translation is not accurate in the whole of this
  passage. The Latin _Memoirs_ say, ‘In aliquo fortassis angulo, aut
  certe in domo proxima.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 874:

  ‘Ita maternam fortunam in anima filiæ fixam insedisse.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 875:

  ‘Deum immortalem! quibus lamentationibus, quibus ejulatibus aera
  complebat.’—_Actes des Martyrs_, book iii. p. 126.

Footnote 876:

  ‘Ferebatur velut insana per urbem; magna vis lacrymarum ex oculis
  tanquam ex fonte promanabat; capillos ac faciem dilaniabat.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 877:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. p. 23.

Footnote 878:

  ‘Suarum facultatum Ægidium dominum faciebant.’—_Memoirs of Enzinas_,
  ii. p. 26.

Footnote 879:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. p. 31.

Footnote 880:

  ‘Unum lectum quem sibi tantum domi reliquum fecerat, ad fœminam
  parturientem misit, et ipse deinceps in stramine jacuit.’—_Memoirs of
  Enzinas_, ii p. 32.

Footnote 881:

  ‘Una misericordia Dei (quæ fide in Christum apprehenditur) servari nos
  oportere.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 882:

  ‘Ex arcana sua sede.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 883:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp. 35, 37.

Footnote 884:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp. 252-255.

Footnote 885:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp. 256, 264.

Footnote 886:

  Crespin, _Actes des Martyrs_, p. 121. _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp.
  261, 273.

Footnote 887:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp. 280, 281, 285.

Footnote 888:

  ‘Nec in tota domo quisquam fuit qui a lacrimis potuerit
  temperare.’—_Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. p. 296.

Footnote 889:

  _Memoirs of Enzinas_, ii. pp. 330-353. _Ibid._ pièces justificatives.
  Letter to Queen Mary, p. 517.




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 ● Transcriber’s Notes:
    ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
    ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
    ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
      when a predominant form was found in this book.
    ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
    ○ Footnotes have been moved to follow the chapters in which they are
      referenced.