ERASMUS AND THE AGE OF REFORMATION JOHAN HUIZINGA _with a selection from the letters of Erasmus_ HARPER TORCHBOOKS / The Cloister Library HARPER & ROW, PUBLISHERS NEW YORK, EVANSTON, AND LONDON [Illustration: WOODCUT BY HANS HOLBEIN. 1535] ERASMUS AND THE AGE OF REFORMATION _Printed in the United States of America_ Huizinga's text was translated from the Dutch by F. Hopman and firstpublished by Charles Scribner's Sons in 1924. The section from theLetters of Erasmus was translated by Barbara Flower. Reprinted by arrangement with Phaidon Press, Ltd. , London Originally published under the title: "Erasmus of Rotterdam" First HARPER TORCHBOOK edition published 1957 Library of Congress catalogue card number 57-10119 CONTENTS _Preface by G. N. Clark_ xi CHAP. I CHILDHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH, 1466-88 1 II IN THE MONASTERY, 1488-95 10 III THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS, 1495-9 20 IV FIRST STAY IN ENGLAND, 1499-1500 29 V ERASMUS AS A HUMANIST 39 VI THEOLOGICAL ASPIRATIONS, 1501 47 VII YEARS OF TROUBLE--LOUVAIN, PARIS, ENGLAND, 1502-6 55 VIII IN ITALY, 1506-9 62 IX THE PRAISE OF FOLLY 69 X THIRD STAY IN ENGLAND, 1509-14 79 XI A LIGHT OF THEOLOGY, 1514-16 87 XII ERASMUS'S MIND 100 XIII ERASMUS'S MIND (_continued_) 109 XIV ERASMUS'S CHARACTER 117 XV AT LOUVAIN, 1517-18 130 XVI FIRST YEARS OF THE REFORMATION 139 XVII ERASMUS AT BASLE, 1521-9 151 XVIII CONTROVERSY WITH LUTHER AND GROWING CONSERVATISM, 1524-6 161 XIX AT WAR WITH HUMANISTS AND REFORMERS, 1528-9 170 XX LAST YEARS 179 XXI CONCLUSION 188 SELECTED LETTERS OF ERASMUS 195 _List of Illustrations_ 257 _Index of Names_ 263 PREFACE _by G. N. Clark, Provost of Oriel College, Oxford_ Rather more than twenty years ago, on a spring morning of alternatecloud and sunshine, I acted as guide to Johan Huizinga, the author ofthis book, when he was on a visit to Oxford. As it was not his firststay in the city, and he knew the principal buildings already, we lookedat some of the less famous. Even with a man who was well known all overthe world as a writer, I expected that these two or three hours would bemuch like the others I had spent in the same capacity with othervisitors; but this proved to be a day to remember. He understood thepurposes of these ancient buildings, the intentions of their foundersand builders; but that was to be expected from an historian who hadwritten upon the history of universities and learning. What surprisedand delighted me was his seeing eye. He told me which of the decorative_motifs_ on the Tower of the Four Orders were usual at the time when itwas built, and which were less common. At All Souls he pointed out theseldom appreciated merits of Hawksmoor's twin towers. His eye was notmerely informed but sensitive. I remembered that I had heard of histalent for drawing, and as we walked and talked I felt the influence ofa strong, quiet personality deep down in which an artist'sperceptiveness was fused with a determination to search for historicaltruth. Huizinga's great success and reputation came suddenly when he was overforty. Until that time his powers were ripening, not so much slowly assecretly. His friends knew that he was unique, but neither he nor theyforesaw what direction his studies would take. He was born in 1872 inGroningen, the most northerly of the chief towns of the Netherlands, andthere he went to school and to the University. He studied Dutch historyand literature and also Oriental languages and mythology and sociology;he was a good linguist and he steadily accumulated great learning, buthe was neither an infant prodigy nor a universal scholar. Science andcurrent affairs scarcely interested him, and until his maturityimagination seemed to satisfy him more than research. Until he was overthirty he was a schoolmaster at Haarlem, a teacher of history; but itwas still uncertain whether European or Oriental studies would claim himin the end. For two or three years before giving up school-teaching helectured in the University of Amsterdam on Sanskrit, and it was almostan accident that he became professor of history in the University of hisnative town. All through his life it was characteristic of him thatafter a spell of creative work, when he had finished a book, he wouldturn aside from the subject that had absorbed him and plunge into someother subject or period, so that the books and articles in the eightvolumes of his collected works (with one more volume still to come)cover a very wide range. As time went on he examined aspects of historywhich at first he had passed over, and he acquired a clear insight intothe political and economic life of the past. It has been well said ofhim that he never became either a pedant or a doctrinaire. During theten years that he spent as professor at Groningen, he found himself. Hewas happily married, with a growing family, and the many elements of hismind drew together into a unity. His sensitiveness to style and beautycame to terms with his conscientious scholarship. He was rooted in thetraditional freedoms of his national and academic environment, but hiscuriosity, like the historical adventures of his people and hisprofession, was not limited by time or space or prejudice. He came moreand more definitely to find his central theme in civilization as arealized ideal, something that men have created in an endless variety offorms, but always in order to raise the level of their lives. While this interior fulfilment was bringing Huizinga to his best, theworld about him changed completely. In 1914, Holland became a neutralcountry surrounded by nations at war. In 1914, also, his wife died, andit was as a lonely widower that he was appointed in the next year to thechair of general history at Leyden, which he was to hold for the rest ofhis academic life. Yet the year after the end of the war saw thepublication of his masterpiece, the book which gave him his high placeamong historical writers and was translated as _The Waning of the MiddleAges_. This is a study of the forms of life and thought in France andthe Netherlands in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the lastphase of one of the great European eras of civilization. In England, where the Middle Ages had been idealized for generations, some of itsleading thoughts did not seem so novel as they did in Holland, wheremany people regarded the Renaissance and more still regarded theReformation as a new beginning of a better world; but in England andAmerica, which had been drawn, unlike Holland, into the vortex of war, it had the poignancy of a recall to the standards of reasonableness. Itwill long maintain its place as a historical book and as a work ofliterature. The shorter book on Erasmus is a companion to this great work. It wasfirst published in 1924 and so belongs to the same best period of theauthor. Its subject is the central intellectual figure of the nextgeneration after the period which Huizinga called the waning, or ratherthe autumn, of the Middle Ages; but Erasmus was also, as will appearfrom many of its pages, a man for whom he had a very special sympathy. Something of what he wrote about Erasmus might also have been writtenabout himself, or at least about his own response to the transformationof the world that he had known. This is not the place for an analysis of that questioning andilluminating response, nor for a considered estimate of Huizinga's workas a whole; but there is room for a word about his last years. He wasrecognized as one of the intellectual leaders of his country, and asecond marriage in 1937 brought back his private happiness; but theshadows were darkening over the western world. From the time whennational socialism began to reveal itself in Germany, he took his standagainst it with perfect simplicity and calm. After the invasion ofHolland he addressed these memorable words to some of his colleagues:'When it comes, as it soon will, to defending our University and thefreedom of science and learning in the Netherlands, we must be ready togive everything for that: our possessions, our freedom, and even ourlives'. The Germans closed the University. For a time they held JohanHuizinga, now an old man and in failing health, as a hostage; then theybanished him to open arrest in a remote parish in the eastern part ofthe country. Even in these conditions he still wrote, and wrote well. Inthe last winter of the war the liberating armies approached and hesuffered the hardships of the civilian population in a theatre of war;but his spirit was unbroken. He died on 1 February 1945, a few weeksbefore his country was set free. G. N. CLARK Oriel College, Oxford April 1952 ERASMUS _and the Age of Reformation_ CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH 1466-88 The Low Countries in the fifteenth century--The Burgundian power--Connections with the German Empire and with France--The northern Netherlands outskirts in every sense--Movement of _Devotio moderna_: brethren of the Common Life and Windesheim monasteries--Erasmus's birth: 1466--His relations and name--At school at Gouda, Deventer and Bois-le-Duc--He takes the vows: probably in 1488 When Erasmus was born Holland had for about twenty years formed part ofthe territory which the dukes of Burgundy had succeeded in uniting undertheir dominion--that complexity of lands, half French in population, like Burgundy, Artois, Hainault, Namur; half Dutch like Flanders, Brabant, Zealand, Holland. The appellation 'Holland' was, as yet, strictly limited to the county of that name (the present provinces ofNorth and South Holland), with which Zealand, too, had long since beenunited. The remaining territories which, together with those lastmentioned, make up the present kingdom of the Netherlands, had not yetbeen brought under Burgundian dominion, although the dukes had casttheir eyes on them. In the bishopric of Utrecht, whose power extended tothe regions on the far side of the river Ysel, Burgundian influence hadalready begun to make itself manifest. The projected conquest ofFriesland was a political inheritance of the counts of Holland, whopreceded the Burgundians. The duchy of Guelders, alone, still preservedits independence inviolate, being more closely connected with theneighbouring German territories, and consequently with the Empireitself. All these lands--about this time they began to be regarded collectivelyunder the name of 'Low Countries by the Sea'--had in most respects thecharacter of outskirts. The authority of the German emperors had forsome centuries been little more than imaginary. Holland and Zealandhardly shared the dawning sense of a national German union. They had toolong looked to France in matters political. Since 1299 a French-speakingdynasty, that of Hainault, had ruled Holland. Even the house of Bavariathat succeeded it about the middle of the fourteenth century had notrestored closer contact with the Empire, but had itself, on thecontrary, early become Gallicized, attracted as it was by Paris and soontwined about by the tentacles of Burgundy to which it became linked bymeans of a double marriage. The northern half of the Low Countries were 'outskirts' also inecclesiastical and cultural matters. Brought over rather late to thecause of Christianity (the end of the eighth century), they had, asborderlands, remained united under a single bishop: the bishop ofUtrecht. The meshes of ecclesiastical organization were wider here thanelsewhere. They had no university. Paris remained, even after thedesigning policy of the Burgundian dukes had founded the university ofLouvain in 1425, the centre of doctrine and science for the northernNetherlands. From the point of view of the wealthy towns of Flanders andBrabant, now the heart of the Burgundian possessions, Holland andZealand formed a wretched little country of boatmen and peasants. Chivalry, which the dukes of Burgundy attempted to invest with newsplendour, had but moderately thrived among the nobles of Holland. TheDutch had not enriched courtly literature, in which Flanders and Brabantzealously strove to follow the French example, by any contribution worthmentioning. Whatever was coming up in Holland flowered unseen; it was not of a sortto attract the attention of Christendom. It was a brisk navigation andtrade, mostly transit trade, by which the Hollanders already began toemulate the German Hansa, and which brought them into continual contactwith France and Spain, England and Scotland, Scandinavia, North Germanyand the Rhine from Cologne upward. It was herring fishery, a humbletrade, but the source of great prosperity--a rising industry, shared bya number of small towns. Not one of those towns in Holland and Zealand, neither Dordrecht norLeyden, Haarlem, Middelburg, Amsterdam, could compare with Ghent, Bruges, Lille, Antwerp or Brussels in the south. It is true that in thetowns of Holland also the highest products of the human mind germinated, but those towns themselves were still too small and too poor to becentres of art and science. The most eminent men were irresistibly drawnto one of the great foci of secular and ecclesiastical culture. Sluter, the great sculptor, went to Burgundy, took service with the dukes, andbequeathed no specimen of his art to the land of his birth. Dirk Bouts, the artist of Haarlem, removed to Louvain, where his best work ispreserved; what was left at Haarlem has perished. At Haarlem, too, andearlier, perhaps, than anywhere else, obscure experiments were beingmade in that great art, craving to be brought forth, which was to changethe world: the art of printing. There was yet another characteristic spiritual phenomenon, whichoriginated here and gave its peculiar stamp to life in these countries. It was a movement designed to give depth and fervour to religious life;started by a burgher of Deventer, Geert Groote, toward the end of thefourteenth century. It had embodied itself in two closely connectedforms--the fraterhouses, where the brethren of the Common Life livedtogether without altogether separating from the world, and thecongregation of the monastery of Windesheim, of the order of the regularAugustinian canons. Originating in the regions on the banks of the Ysel, between the two small towns of Deventer and Zwolle, and so on theoutskirts of the diocese of Utrecht, this movement soon spread, eastwardto Westphalia, northward to Groningen and the Frisian country, westwardto Holland proper. Fraterhouses were erected everywhere and monasteriesof the Windesheim congregation were established or affiliated. Themovement was spoken of as 'modern devotion', _devotio moderna_. It wasrather a matter of sentiment and practice than of definite doctrine. Thetruly Catholic character of the movement had early been acknowledged bythe church authorities. Sincerity and modesty, simplicity and industry, and, above all, constant ardour of religious emotion and thought, wereits objects. Its energies were devoted to tending the sick and otherworks of charity, but especially to instruction and the art of writing. It is in this that it especially differed from the revival of theFranciscan and Dominican orders of about the same time, which turned topreaching. The Windesheimians and the Hieronymians (as the brethren ofthe Common Life were also called) exerted their crowning activities inthe seclusion of the schoolroom and the silence of the writing cell. Theschools of the brethren soon drew pupils from a wide area. In this waythe foundations were laid, both here in the northern Netherlands and inlower Germany, for a generally diffused culture among the middleclasses; a culture of a very narrow, strictly ecclesiastical nature, indeed, but which for that very reason was fit to permeate broad layersof the people. What the Windesheimians themselves produced in the way of devotionalliterature is chiefly limited to edifying booklets and biographies oftheir own members; writings which were distinguished rather by theirpious tenor and sincerity than by daring or novel thoughts. But of them all, the greatest was that immortal work of Thomas à Kempis, Canon of Saint Agnietenberg, near Zwolle, the _Imitatio Christi_. Foreigners visiting these regions north of the Scheldt and the Meuselaughed at the rude manners and the deep drinking of the inhabitants, but they also mentioned their sincere piety. These countries werealready, what they have ever remained, somewhat contemplative andself-contained, better adapted for speculating on the world and forreproving it than for astonishing it with dazzling wit. * * * * * Rotterdam and Gouda, situated upward of twelve miles apart in the lowestregion of Holland, an extremely watery region, were not among the firsttowns of the county. They were small country towns, ranking afterDordrecht, Haarlem, Leyden, and rapidly rising Amsterdam. They were notcentres of culture. Erasmus was born at Rotterdam on 27 October, mostprobably in the year 1466. The illegitimacy of his birth has thrown aveil of mystery over his descent and kinship. It is possible thatErasmus himself learned the circumstances of his coming into the worldonly in his later years. Acutely sensitive to the taint in his origin, he did more to veil the secret than to reveal it. The picture which hepainted of it in his ripe age was romantic and pathetic. He imaginedthat his father when a young man made love to a girl, a physician'sdaughter, in the hope of marrying her. The parents and brothers of theyoung fellow, indignant, tried to persuade him to take holy orders. Theyoung man fled before the child was born. He went to Rome and made aliving by copying. His relations sent him false tidings that his belovedhad died; out of grief he became a priest and devoted himself toreligion altogether. Returned to his native country he discovered thedeceit. He abstained from all contact with her whom he now could nolonger marry, but took great pains to give his son a liberal education. The mother continued to care for the child, till an early death took herfrom him. The father soon followed her to the grave. To Erasmus'srecollection he was only twelve or thirteen years old when his motherdied. It seems to be practically certain that her death did not occurbefore 1483, when, therefore, he was already seventeen years old. Hissense of chronology was always remarkably ill developed. Unfortunately it is beyond doubt that Erasmus himself knew, or hadknown, that not all particulars of this version were correct. In allprobability his father was already a priest at the time of therelationship to which he owed his life; in any case it was not theimpatience of a betrothed couple, but an irregular alliance of longstanding, of which a brother, Peter, had been born three years before. We can only vaguely discern the outlines of a numerous and commonplacemiddle-class family. The father had nine brothers, who were all married. The grandparents on his father's side and the uncles on his mother'sside attained to a very great age. It is strange that a host ofcousins--their progeny--has not boasted of a family connection with thegreat Erasmus. Their descendants have not even been traced. What weretheir names? The fact that in burgher circles family names had, as yet, become anything but fixed, makes it difficult to trace Erasmus'skinsmen. Usually people were called by their own and their father'sname; but it also happened that the father's name became fixed andadhered to the following generation. Erasmus calls his father Gerard, his brother Peter Gerard, while a papal letter styles Erasmus himselfErasmus Rogerii. Possibly the father was called Roger Gerard or Gerards. Although Erasmus and his brother were born at Rotterdam, there is muchthat points to the fact that his father's kin did not belong there, butat Gouda. At any rate they had near relatives at Gouda. Erasmus was his Christian name. There is nothing strange in the choice, although it was rather unusual. St. Erasmus was one of the fourteen HolyMartyrs, whose worship so much engrossed the attention of the multitudein the fifteenth century. Perhaps the popular belief that theintercession of St. Erasmus conferred wealth, had some weight inchoosing the name. Up to the time when he became better acquainted withGreek, he used the form Herasmus. Later on he regretted that he had notalso given that name the more correct and melodious form Erasmius. On afew occasions he half jocularly called himself so, and his godchild, Johannes Froben's son, always used this form. It was probably for similar aesthetic considerations that he soonaltered the barbaric Rotterdammensis to Roterdamus, later Roterodamus, which he perhaps accentuated as a proparoxytone. Desiderius was anaddition selected by himself, which he first used in 1496; it ispossible that the study of his favourite author Jerome, among whosecorrespondents there is a Desiderius, suggested the name to him. When, therefore, the full form, Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus, first appears, in the second edition of the _Adagia_, published by Josse Badius atParis in 1506, it is an indication that Erasmus, then forty years ofage, had found himself. Circumstances had not made it easy for him to find his way. Almost inhis infancy, when hardly four years old, he thinks, he had been put toschool at Gouda, together with his brother. He was nine years old whenhis father sent him to Deventer to continue his studies in the famousschool of the chapter of St. Lebuin. His mother accompanied him. Hisstay at Deventer must have lasted, with an interval during which he wasa choir boy in the minster at Utrecht, from 1475 to 1484. Erasmus'sexplicit declaration that he was fourteen years old when he leftDeventer may be explained by assuming that in later years he confusedhis temporary absence from Deventer (when at Utrecht) with the definiteend of his stay at Deventer. Reminiscences of his life there repeatedlycrop up in Erasmus's writings. Those concerning the teaching he gotinspired him with little gratitude; the school was still barbaric, then, he said; ancient medieval text-books were used there of whose sillinessand cumbrousness we can hardly conceive. Some of the masters were of thebrotherhood of the Common Life. One of them, Johannes Synthen, broughtto his task a certain degree of understanding of classic antiquity inits purer form. Toward the end of Erasmus's residence Alexander Hegiuswas placed at the head of the school, a friend of the Frisian humanist, Rudolf Agricola, who on his return from Italy was gaped at by hiscompatriots as a prodigy. On festal days, when the rector made hisoration before all the pupils, Erasmus heard Hegius; on one singleoccasion he listened to the celebrated Agricola himself, which left adeep impression on his mind. His mother's death of the plague that ravaged the town brought Erasmus'sschool-time at Deventer to a sudden close. His father called him and hisbrother back to Gouda, only to die himself soon afterwards. He must havebeen a man of culture. For he knew Greek, had heard the famous humanistsin Italy, had copied classic authors and left a library of some value. Erasmus and his brother were now under the protection of three guardianswhose care and intentions he afterwards placed in an unfavourable light. How far he exaggerated their treatment of him it is difficult to decide. That the guardians, among whom one Peter Winckel, schoolmaster at Gouda, occupied the principal place, had little sympathy with the newclassicism, about which their ward already felt enthusiastic, need notbe doubted. 'If you should write again so elegantly, please to add acommentary', the schoolmaster replied grumblingly to an epistle on whichErasmus, then fourteen years old, had expended much care. That theguardians sincerely considered it a work pleasing to God to persuade theyouths to enter a monastery can no more be doubted than that this wasfor them the easiest way to get rid of their task. For Erasmus thispitiful business assumes the colour of a grossly selfish attempt tocloak dishonest administration; an altogether reprehensible abuse ofpower and authority. More than this: in later years it obscured for himthe image of his own brother, with whom he had been on terms of cordialintimacy. Winckel sent the two young fellows, twenty-one and eighteen years old, to school again, this time at Bois-le-Duc. There they lived in theFraterhouse itself, to which the school was attached. There was nothinghere of the glory that had shone about Deventer. The brethren, saysErasmus, knew of no other purpose than that of destroying all naturalgifts, with blows, reprimands and severity, in order to fit the soul forthe monastery. This, he thought, was just what his guardians were aimingat; although ripe for the university they were deliberately kept awayfrom it. In this way more than two years were wasted. One of his two masters, one Rombout, who liked young Erasmus, tried hardto prevail on him to join the brethren of the Common Life. In lateryears Erasmus occasionally regretted that he had not yielded; for thebrethren took no such irrevocable vows as were now in store for him. An epidemic of the plague became the occasion for the brothers to leaveBois-le-Duc and return to Gouda. Erasmus was attacked by a fever thatsapped his power of resistance, of which he now stood in such need. Theguardians (one of the three had died in the meantime) now did theirutmost to make the two young men enter a monastery. They had good causefor it, as they had ill administered the slender fortune of their wards, and, says Erasmus, refused to render an account. Later he saw everythingconnected with this dark period of his life in the most gloomycolours--except himself. Himself he sees as a boy of not yet sixteenyears (it is nearly certain that he must have been twenty already)weakened by fever, but nevertheless resolute and sensible in refusing. He has persuaded his brother to fly with him and to go to a university. The one guardian is a narrow-minded tyrant, the other, Winckel'sbrother, a merchant, a frivolous coaxer. Peter, the elder of the youths, yields first and enters the monastery of Sion, near Delft (of the orderof the regular Augustinian canons), where the guardian had found a placefor him. Erasmus resisted longer. Only after a visit to the monastery ofSteyn or Emmaus, near Gouda, belonging to the same order, where he founda schoolfellow from Deventer, who pointed out the bright side ofmonastic life, did Erasmus yield and enter Steyn, where soon after, probably in 1488, he took the vows. CHAPTER II IN THE MONASTERY 1488-95 Erasmus as an Augustinian canon at Steyn--His friends--Letters to Servatius--Humanism in the monasteries: Latin poetry-- Aversion to cloister-life--He leaves Steyn to enter the service of the Bishop of Cambray: 1493--James Batt-- _Antibarbari_--He gets leave to study at Paris: 1495 In his later life--under the influence of the gnawing regret which hismonkhood and all the trouble he took to escape from it caused him--thepicture of all the events leading up to his entering the convent becamedistorted in his mind. Brother Peter, to whom he still wrote in acordial vein from Steyn, became a worthless fellow, even his evilspirit, a Judas. The schoolfellow whose advice had been decisive nowappeared a traitor, prompted by self-interest, who himself had chosenconvent-life merely out of laziness and the love of good cheer. The letters that Erasmus wrote from Steyn betray no vestige of hisdeep-seated aversion to monastic life, which afterwards he asks us tobelieve he had felt from the outset. We may, of course, assume that thesupervision of his superiors prevented him from writing all that was inhis heart, and that in the depths of his being there had always existedthe craving for freedom and for more civilized intercourse than Steyncould offer. Still he must have found in the monastery some of the goodthings that his schoolfellow had led him to expect. That at this periodhe should have written a 'Praise of Monastic Life', 'to please a friendwho wanted to decoy a cousin', as he himself says, is one of those naïveassertions, invented afterwards, of which Erasmus never saw theunreasonable quality. He found at Steyn a fair degree of freedom, some food for an intellectcraving for classic antiquity, and friendships with men of the same turnof mind. There were three who especially attracted him. Of theschoolfellow who had induced him to become a monk, we hear no more. Hisfriends are Servatius Roger of Rotterdam and William Hermans of Gouda, both his companions at Steyn, and the older Cornelius Gerard of Gouda, usually called Aurelius (a quasi-latinization of Goudanus), who spentmost of his time in the monastery of Lopsen, near Leyden. With them heread and conversed sociably and jestingly; with them he exchangedletters when they were not together. Out of the letters to Servatius there rises the picture of an Erasmuswhom we shall never find again--a young man of more than femininesensitiveness; of a languishing need for sentimental friendship. Inwriting to Servatius, Erasmus runs the whole gamut of an ardent lover. As often as the image of his friend presents itself to his mind tearsbreak from his eyes. Weeping he re-reads his friend's letter every hour. But he is mortally dejected and anxious, for the friend proves averse tothis excessive attachment. 'What do you want from me?' he asks. 'What iswrong with you?' the other replies. Erasmus cannot bear to find thatthis friendship is not fully returned. 'Do not be so reserved; do tellme what is wrong! I repose my hope in you alone; I have become yours socompletely that you have left me naught of myself. You know mypusillanimity, which when it has no one on whom to lean and rest, makesme so desperate that life becomes a burden. ' Let us remember this. Erasmus never again expresses himself sopassionately. He has given us here the clue by which we may understandmuch of what he becomes in his later years. These letters have sometimes been taken as mere literary exercises; theweakness they betray and the complete absence of all reticence, seem totally ill with his habit of cloaking his most intimate feelings which, afterwards, Erasmus never quite relinquishes. Dr. Allen, who leaves thisquestion undecided, nevertheless inclines to regard the letters assincere effusions, and to me they seem so, incontestably. This exuberantfriendship accords quite well with the times and the person. Sentimental friendships were as much in vogue in secular circles duringthe fifteenth century as towards the end of the eighteenth century. Eachcourt had its pairs of friends, who dressed alike, and shared room, bed, and heart. Nor was this cult of fervent friendship restricted to thesphere of aristocratic life. It was among the specific characteristicsof the _devotio moderna_, as, for the rest, it seems from its verynature to be inseparably bound up with pietism. To observe one anotherwith sympathy, to watch and note each other's inner life, was acustomary and approved occupation among the brethren of the Common Lifeand the Windesheim monks. And though Steyn and Sion were not of theWindesheim congregation, the spirit of the _devotio moderna_ wasprevalent there. As for Erasmus himself, he has rarely revealed the foundation of hischaracter more completely than when he declared to Servatius: 'My mindis such that I think nothing can rank higher than friendship in thislife, nothing should be desired more ardently, nothing should betreasured more jealously'. A violent affection of a similar naturetroubled him even at a later date when the purity of his motives wasquestioned. Afterwards he speaks of youth as being used to conceive afervent affection for certain comrades. Moreover, the classic examplesof friends, Orestes and Pylades, Damon and Pythias, Theseus andPirithous, as also David and Jonathan, were ever present before hismind's eye. A young and very tender heart, marked by many femininetraits, replete with all the sentiment and with all the imaginings ofclassic literature, who was debarred from love and found himself placedagainst his wish in a coarse and frigid environment, was likely tobecome somewhat excessive in his affections. He was obliged to moderate them. Servatius would have none of so jealousand exacting a friendship and, probably at the cost of more humiliationand shame than appears in his letters, young Erasmus resigns himself, tobe more guarded in expressing his feelings in the future. Thesentimental Erasmus disappears for good and presently makes room for thewitty latinist, who surpasses his older friends, and chats with themabout poetry and literature, advises them about their Latin style, andlectures them if necessary. The opportunities for acquiring the new taste for classic antiquitycannot have been so scanty at Deventer, and in the monastery itself, asErasmus afterwards would have us believe, considering the authors healready knew at this time. We may conjecture, also, that the books leftby his father, possibly brought by him from Italy, contributed toErasmus's culture, though it would be strange that, prone as he was todisparage his schools and his monastery, he should not have mentionedthe fact. Moreover, we know that the humanistic knowledge of his youthwas not exclusively his own, in spite of all he afterwards said aboutDutch ignorance and obscurantism. Cornelius Aurelius and William Hermanslikewise possessed it. In a letter to Cornelius he mentions the following authors as his poeticmodels--Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Statius, Martial, Claudian, Persius, Lucan, Tibullus, Propertius. In prose he imitates Cicero, Quintilian, Sallust, and Terence, whose metrical character had not yetbeen recognized. Among Italian humanists he was especially acquaintedwith Lorenzo Valla, who on account of his _Elegantiae_ passed with himfor the pioneer of _bonae literae_; but Filelfo, Aeneas Sylvius, Guarino, Poggio, and others, were also not unknown to him. Inecclesiastical literature he was particularly well read in Jerome. Itremains remarkable that the education which Erasmus received in theschools of the _devotio moderna_ with their ultra-puritanical object, their rigid discipline intent on breaking the personality, could producesuch a mind as he manifests in his monastic period--the mind of anaccomplished humanist. He is only interested in writing Latin verses andin the purity of his Latin style. We look almost in vain for piety inthe correspondence with Cornelius of Gouda and William Hermans. Theymanipulate with ease the most difficult Latin metres and the rarestterms of mythology. Their subject-matter is bucolic or amatory, and, ifdevotional, their classicism deprives it of the accent of piety. Theprior of the neighbouring monastery of Hem, at whose request Erasmussang the Archangel Michael, did not dare to paste up his Sapphic ode: itwas so 'poetic', he thought, as to seem almost Greek. In those dayspoetic meant classic. Erasmus himself thought he had made it so baldthat it was nearly prose--'the times were so barren, then', heafterwards sighed. These young poets felt themselves the guardians of a new light amidstthe dullness and barbarism which oppressed them. They readily believedeach other's productions to be immortal, as every band of youthful poetsdoes, and dreamt of a future of poetic glory for Steyn by which it wouldvie with Mantua. Their environment of clownish, narrow-mindedconventional divines--for as such they saw them--neither acknowledgednor encouraged them. Erasmus's strong propensity to fancy himselfmenaced and injured tinged this position with the martyrdom of oppressedtalent. To Cornelius he complains in fine Horatian measure of thecontempt in which poetry was held; his fellow-monk orders him to let hispen, accustomed to writing poetry, rest. Consuming envy forces him togive up making verses. A horrid barbarism prevails, the country laughsat the laurel-bringing art of high-seated Apollo; the coarse peasantorders the learned poet to write verses. 'Though I had mouths as many asthe stars that twinkle in the silent firmament on quiet nights, or asmany as the roses that the mild gale of spring strews on the ground, Icould not complain of all the evils by which the sacred art of poetry isoppressed in these days. I am tired of writing poetry. ' Of this effusionCornelius made a dialogue which highly pleased Erasmus. Though in this art nine-tenths may be rhetorical fiction and sedulousimitation, we ought not, on that account, to undervalue the enthusiasminspiring the young poets. Let us, who have mostly grown blunt to thecharms of Latin, not think too lightly of the elation felt by one who, after learning this language out of the most absurd primers andaccording to the most ridiculous methods, nevertheless discovered it inits purity, and afterwards came to handle it in the charming rhythm ofsome artful metre, in the glorious precision of its structure and in allthe melodiousness of its sound. [Illustration: I. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 51] [Illustration: II. VIEW OF ROTTERDAM, EARLY SIXTEENTH CENTURY] Nec si quot placidis ignea noctibus Scintillant tacito sydera culmine, Nec si quot tepidum flante Favonio Ver suffundit humo rosas, Tot sint ora mihi... Was it strange that the youth who could say this felt himself apoet?--or who, together with his friend, could sing of spring in aMeliboean song of fifty distichs? Pedantic work, if you like, labouredliterary exercises, and yet full of the freshness and the vigour whichspring from the Latin itself. Out of these moods was to come the first comprehensive work that Erasmuswas to undertake, the manuscript of which he was afterwards to lose, torecover in part, and to publish only after many years--the_Antibarbari_, which he commenced at Steyn, according to Dr. Allen. Inthe version in which eventually the first book of the _Antibarbari_appeared, it reflects, it is true, a somewhat later phase of Erasmus'slife, that which began after he had left the monastery; neither is thecomfortable tone of his witty defence of profane literature any longerthat of the poet at Steyn. But the ideal of a free and noble life offriendly intercourse and the uninterrupted study of the Ancients hadalready occurred to him within the convent walls. In the course of years those walls probably hemmed him in more and moreclosely. Neither learned and poetic correspondence nor the art ofpainting with which he occupied himself, [1] together with one Sasboud, could sweeten the oppression of monastic life and a narrow-minded, unfriendly environment. Of the later period of his life in themonastery, no letters at all have been preserved, according to Dr. Allen's carefully considered dating. Had he dropped his correspondenceout of spleen, or had his superiors forbidden him to keep it up, or arewe merely left in the dark because of accidental loss? We know nothingabout the circumstances and the frame of mind in which Erasmus wasordained on 25 April 1492, by the Bishop of Utrecht, David of Burgundy. Perhaps his taking holy orders was connected with his design to leavethe monastery. He himself afterwards declared that he had but rarelyread mass. He got his chance to leave the monastery when offered thepost of secretary to the Bishop of Cambray, Henry of Bergen. Erasmusowed this preferment to his fame as a Latinist and a man of letters; forit was with a view to a journey to Rome, where the bishop hoped toobtain a cardinal's hat, that Erasmus entered his service. Theauthorization of the Bishop of Utrecht had been obtained, and also thatof the prior and the general of the order. Of course, there was noquestion yet of taking leave for good, since, as the bishop's servant, Erasmus continued to wear his canon's dress. He had prepared for hisdeparture in the deepest secrecy. There is something touching in theglimpse we get of his friend and fellow-poet, William Hermans, waitingin vain outside of Gouda to see his friend just for a moment, when onhis way south he would pass the town. It seems there had beenconsultations between them as to leaving Steyn together, and Erasmus, onhis part, had left him ignorant of his plans. William had to consolehimself with the literature that might be had at Steyn. * * * * * Erasmus, then twenty-five years old--for in all probability the yearwhen he left the monastery was 1493--now set foot on the path of acareer that was very common and much coveted at that time: that of anintellectual in the shadow of the great. His patron belonged to one ofthe numerous Belgian noble families, which had risen in the service ofthe Burgundians and were interestedly devoted to the prosperity of thathouse. The Glimes were lords of the important town of Bergen-op-Zoom, which, situated between the River Scheldt and the Meuse delta, was oneof the links between the northern and the southern Netherlands. Henry, the Bishop of Cambray, had just been appointed chancellor of the Orderof the Golden Fleece, the most distinguished spiritual dignity at court, which although now Habsburg in fact, was still named after Burgundy. Theservice of such an important personage promised almost unbounded honourand profit. Many a man would under the circumstances, at the cost ofsome patience, some humiliation, and a certain laxity of principle, haverisen even to be a bishop. But Erasmus was never a man to make the mostof his situation. Serving the bishop proved to be rather a disappointment. Erasmus had toaccompany him on his frequent migrations from one residence to anotherin Bergen, Brussels, or Mechlin. He was very busy, but the exact natureof his duties is unknown. The journey to Rome, the acme of thingsdesirable to every divine or student, did not come off. The bishop, although taking a cordial interest in him for some months, was lessaccommodating than he had expected. And so we shortly find Erasmus oncemore in anything but a cheerful frame of mind. 'The hardest fate, ' hecalls his own, which robs him of all his old sprightliness. Opportunities to study he has none. He now envies his friend William, who at Steyn in the little cell can write beautiful poetry, favoured byhis 'lucky stars'. It befits him, Erasmus, only to weep and sigh; it hasalready so dulled his mind and withered his heart that his formerstudies no longer appeal to him. There is rhetorical exaggeration inthis and we shall not take his pining for the monastery too seriously, but still it is clear that deep dejection had mastered him. Contact withthe world of politics and ambition had probably unsettled Erasmus. Henever had any aptitude for it. The hard realities of life frightened anddistressed him. When forced to occupy himself with them he saw nothingbut bitterness and confusion about him. 'Where is gladness or repose?Wherever I turn my eyes I only see disaster and harshness. And in such abustle and clamour about me you wish me to find leisure for the work ofthe Muses?' Real leisure Erasmus was never to find during his life. All his reading, all his writing, he did hastily, _tumultuarie_, as he calls itrepeatedly. Yet he must nevertheless have worked with intensestconcentration and an incredible power of assimilation. Whilst stayingwith the bishop he visited the monastery of Groenendael near Brussels, where in former times Ruysbroeck wrote. Possibly Erasmus did not hearthe inmates speak of Ruysbroeck and he would certainly have taken littlepleasure in the writings of the great mystic. But in the library hefound the works of St. Augustine and these he devoured. The monks ofGroenendael were surprised at his diligence. He took the volumes withhim even to his bedroom. He occasionally found time to compose at this period. At Halsteren, nearBergen-op-Zoom, where the bishop had a country house, he revised the_Antibarbari_, begun at Steyn, and elaborated it in the form of adialogue. It would seem as if he sought compensation for the agitationof his existence in an atmosphere of idyllic repose and culturedconversation. He conveys us to the scene (he will afterwards use itrepeatedly) which ever remained the ideal pleasure of life to him: agarden or a garden house outside the town, where in the gladness of afine day a small number of friends meet to talk during a simple meal ora quiet walk, in Platonic serenity, about things of the mind. Thepersonages whom he introduces, besides himself, are his best friends. They are the valued and faithful friend whom he got to know at Bergen, James Batt, schoolmaster and afterwards also clerk of that town, and hisold friend William Hermans of Steyn, whose literary future he continuedsomewhat to promote. William, arriving unexpectedly from Holland, meetsthe others, who are later joined by the Burgomaster of Bergen and thetown physician. In a lightly jesting, placid tone they engage in adiscussion about the appreciation of poetry and literature--Latinliterature. These are not incompatible with true devotion, as barbarousdullness wants us to believe. A cloud of witnesses is there to prove it, among them and above all St. Augustine, whom Erasmus had studiedrecently, and St. Jerome, with whom Erasmus had been longer acquaintedand whose mind was, indeed, more congenial to him. Solemnly, in ancientRoman guise, war is declared on the enemies of classic culture. O yeGoths, by what right do you occupy, not only the Latin provinces (the_disciplinae liberales_ are meant) but the capital, that is Latinityitself? It was Batt who, when his prospects with the Bishop of Cambray ended indisappointment, helped to find a way out for Erasmus. He himself hadstudied at Paris, and thither Erasmus also hoped to go, now that Romewas denied him. The bishop's consent and the promise of a stipend wereobtained and Erasmus departed for the most famous of all universities, that of Paris, probably in the late summer of 1495. Batt's influence andefforts had procured him this lucky chance. FOOTNOTES: [1] Allen No. 16. 12 cf. IV p. Xx, and _vide_ LB. IV 756, where surveyingthe years of his youth he also writes 'Pingere dum meditor tenueis sinecorpore formas'. CHAPTER III THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS 1495-9 The University of Paris--Traditions and schools of Philosophy and Theology--The College of Montaigu--Erasmus's dislike of scholasticism--Relations with the humanist, Robert Gaguin, 1495--How to earn a living--First drafts of several of his educational works--Travelling to Holland and back--Batt and the Lady of Veere--To England with Lord Mountjoy: 1499 The University of Paris was, more than any other place in Christendom, the scene of the collision and struggle of opinions and parties. University life in the Middle Ages was in general tumultuous andagitated. The forms of scientific intercourse themselves entailed anelement of irritability: never-ending disputations, frequent electionsand rowdyism of the students. To those were added old and new quarrelsof all sorts of orders, schools and groups. The different collegescontended among themselves, the secular clergy were at variance with theregular. The Thomists and the Scotists, together called the Ancients, had been disputing at Paris for half a century with the Terminists, orModerns, the followers of Ockam and Buridan. In 1482 some sort of peacewas concluded between those two groups. Both schools were on their lastlegs, stuck fast in sterile technical disputes, in systematizing andsubdividing, a method of terms and words by which science and philosophybenefited no longer. The theological colleges of the Dominicans andFranciscans at Paris were declining; theological teaching was taken overby the secular colleges of Navarre and Sorbonne, but in the old style. The general traditionalism had not prevented humanism from penetratingParis also during the last quarter of the fifteenth century. Refinementof Latin style and the taste for classic poetry here, too, had theirfervent champions, just as revived Platonism, which had sprung up inItaly. The Parisian humanists were partly Italians as Girolamo Balbi andFausto Andrelini, but at that time a Frenchman was considered to betheir leader, Robert Gaguin, general of the order of the Mathurins orTrinitarians, diplomatist, French poet and humanist. Side by side withthe new Platonism a clearer understanding of Aristotle penetrated, whichhad also come from Italy. Shortly before Erasmus's arrival JacquesLefèvre d'Étaples had returned from Italy, where he had visited thePlatonists, such as Marsilio Ficino, Pico della Mirandola, and ErmolaoBarbaro, the reviver of Aristotle. Though theoretical theology andphilosophy generally were conservative at Paris, yet here as well aselsewhere movements to reform the Church were not wanting. The authorityof Jean Gerson, the University's great chancellor (about 1400), had notyet been forgotten. But reform by no means meant inclination to departfrom the doctrine of the Church; it aimed, in the first place, atrestoration and purification of the monastic orders and afterwards atthe extermination of abuses which the Church acknowledged and lamentedas existing within its fold. In that spirit of reformation of spirituallife the Dutch movement of the _devotio moderna_ had recently begun tomake itself felt, also, at Paris. The chief of its promoters was JohnStandonck of Mechlin, educated by the brethren of the Common Life atGouda and imbued with their spirit in its most rigorous form. He was anascetic more austere than the spirit of the Windesheimians, strictindeed but yet moderate, required; far beyond ecclesiastical circles hisname was proverbial on account of his abstinence--he had definitelydenied himself the use of meat. As provisor of the college of Montaiguhe had instituted the most stringent rules there, enforced bychastisement for the slightest faults. To the college he had annexed ahome for poor scholars, where they lived in a semi-monastic community. To this man Erasmus had been recommended by the Bishop of Cambray. Though he did not join the community of poor students--he was nearlythirty years old--he came to know all the privations of the system. Theyembittered the earlier part of his stay at Paris and instilled in him adeep, permanent aversion to abstinence and austerity. Had he come toParis for this--to experience the dismal and depressing influences ofhis youth anew in a more stringent form? The purpose for which Erasmus went to Paris was chiefly to obtain thedegree of doctor of theology. This was not too difficult for him: as aregular he was exempt from previous study in the faculty of arts, andhis learning and astonishing intelligence and energy enabled him toprepare in a short time for the examinations and disputations required. Yet he did not attain this object at Paris. His stay, which withinterruptions lasted, first till 1499, to be continued later, became tohim a period of difficulties and exasperations, of struggle to make hisway by all the humiliating means which at the time were indispensable tothat end; of dawning success, too, which, however, failed to gratifyhim. The first cause of his reverses was a physical one; he could not endurethe hard life in the college of Montaigu. The addled eggs and squalidbedrooms stuck in his memory all his life; there he thinks he contractedthe beginnings of his later infirmity. In the _Colloquia_ he hascommemorated with abhorrence Standonck's system of abstinence, privationand chastisement. For the rest his stay there lasted only until thespring of 1496. Meanwhile he had begun his theological studies. He attended lectures onthe Bible and on the Book of the Sentences, the medieval handbook oftheology and still the one most frequently used. He was even allowed togive some lessons in the college on Holy Scripture. He preached a fewsermons in honour of the Saints, probably in the neighbouring abbey ofSt. Geneviève. But his heart was not in all this. The subtleties of theschools could not please him. That aversion to all scholasticism, whichhe rejected in one sweeping condemnation, struck root in his mind, which, however broad, always judged unjustly that for which it had noroom. 'Those studies can make a man opinionated and contentious; canthey make him wise? They exhaust the mind by a certain jejune and barrensubtlety, without fertilizing or inspiring it. By their stammering andby the stains of their impure style they disfigure theology which hadbeen enriched and adorned by the eloquence of the ancients. They involveeverything whilst trying to resolve everything. ' 'Scotist', withErasmus, became a handy epithet for all schoolmen, nay, for everythingsuperannuated and antiquated. He would rather lose the whole of Scotusthan Cicero's or Plutarch's works. These he feels the better forreading, whereas he rises from the study of scholasticism frigidlydisposed towards true virtue, but irritated into a disputatious mood. It would, no doubt, have been difficult for Erasmus to find in the aridtraditionalism which prevailed in the University of Paris the heyday ofscholastic philosophy and theology. From the disputations which he heardin the Sorbonne he brought back nothing but the habit of scoffing atdoctors of theology, or as he always ironically calls them by theirtitle of honour: _Magistri nostri_. Yawning, he sat among 'those holyScotists' with their wrinkled brows, staring eyes, and puzzled faces, and on his return home he writes a disrespectful fantasy to his youngfriend Thomas Grey, telling him how he sleeps the sleep of Epimenideswith the divines of the Sorbonne. Epimenides awoke after his forty-sevenyears of slumber, but the majority of our present theologians will neverwake up. What may Epimenides have dreamt? What but subtleties of theScotists: quiddities, formalities, etc. ! Epimenides himself was rebornin Scotus, or rather, Epimenides was Scotus's prototype. For did not he, too, write theological books, in which he tied such syllogistic knots ashe would never have been able to loosen? The Sorbonne preservesEpimenides's skin written over with mysterious letters, as an oraclewhich men may only see after having borne the title of _Magister noster_for fifteen years. It is not a far cry from caricatures like these to the _Sorbonistres_and the _Barbouillamenta Scoti_ of Rabelais. 'It is said', thus Erasmusconcludes his _boutade_, 'that no one can understand the mysteries ofthis science who has had the least intercourse with the Muses or theGraces. All that you have learned in the way of _bonae literae_ has tobe unlearned first; if you have drunk of Helicon you must first vomitthe draught. I do my utmost to say nothing according to the Latin taste, and nothing graceful or witty; and I am already making progress, andthere is hope that one day they will acknowledge Erasmus. ' It was not only the dryness of the method and the barrenness of thesystem which revolted Erasmus. It was also the qualities of his ownmind, which, in spite of all its breadth and acuteness, did not tend topenetrate deeply into philosophical or dogmatic speculations. For it wasnot only scholasticism that repelled him; the youthful Platonism and therejuvenated Aristotelianism taught by Lefèvre d'Étaples also failed toattract him. For the present he remained a humanist of aesthetic bias, with the substratum of a biblical and moral disposition, resting mainlyon the study of his favourite Jerome. For a long time to come Erasmusconsidered himself, and also introduced himself, as a poet and anorator, by which latter term he meant what we call a man of letters. Immediately on arriving at Paris he must have sought contact with theheadquarters of literary humanism. The obscure Dutch regular introducedhimself in a long letter (not preserved) full of eulogy, accompanied bya much-laboured poem, to the general, not only of the Trinitarians but, at the same time, of Parisian humanists, Robert Gaguin. The great mananswered very obligingly: 'From your lyrical specimen I conclude thatyou are a scholar; my friendship is at your disposal; do not be soprofuse in your praise, that looks like flattery'. The correspondencehad hardly begun when Erasmus found a splendid opportunity to renderthis illustrious personage a service and, at the same time, in theshadow of his name, make himself known to the reading public. The matteris also of importance because it affords us an opportunity, for thefirst time, to notice the connection that is always found betweenErasmus's career as a man of letters and a scholar and the technicalconditions of the youthful art of printing. Gaguin was an all-round man and his Latin text-book of the history ofFrance, _De origine et gestis Francorum Compendium_, was just beingprinted. It was the first specimen of humanistic historiography inFrance. The printer had finished his work on 30 September 1495, but ofthe 136 leaves, two remained blank. This was not permissible accordingto the notions of that time. Gaguin was ill and could not help matters. By judicious spacing the compositor managed to fill up folio 135 with apoem by Gaguin, the colophon and two panegyrics by Faustus Andrelinusand another humanist. Even then there was need of matter, and Erasmusdashed into the breach and furnished a long commendatory letter, completely filling the superfluous blank space of folio 136. [2] In thisway his name and style suddenly became known to the numerous publicwhich was interested in Gaguin's historical work, and at the same timehe acquired another title to Gaguin's protection, on whom theexceptional qualities of Erasmus's diction had evidently not been lost. That his history would remain known chiefly because it had been astepping stone to Erasmus, Gaguin could hardly have anticipated. Although Erasmus had now, as a follower of Gaguin, been introduced intothe world of Parisian humanists, the road to fame, which had latterlybegun to lead through the printing press, was not yet easy for him. Heshowed the _Antibarbari_ to Gaguin, who praised them, but no suggestionof publication resulted. A slender volume of Latin poems by Erasmus waspublished in Paris in 1496, dedicated to Hector Boys, a Scotchman, withwhom he had become acquainted at Montaigu. But the more importantwritings at which he worked during his stay in Paris all appeared inprint much later. While intercourse with men like Robert Gaguin and Faustus Andrelinusmight be honourable, it was not directly profitable. The support of theBishop of Cambray was scantier than he wished. In the spring of 1496 hefell ill and left Paris. Going first to Bergen, he had a kind welcomefrom his patron, the bishop; and then, having recovered his health, hewent on to Holland to his friends. It was his intention to stay there, he says. The friends themselves, however, urged him to return to Paris, which he did in the autumn of 1496. He carried poetry by William Hermansand a letter from this poet to Gaguin. A printer was found for the poemsand Erasmus also brought his friend and fellow-poet into contact withFaustus Andrelinus. The position of a man who wished to live by intellectual labour was farfrom easy at that time and not always dignified. He had either to liveon church prebends or on distinguished patrons, or on both. But such aprebend was difficult to get and patrons were uncertain and oftendisappointing. The publishers paid considerable copy-fees only to famousauthors. As a rule the writer received a number of copies of his workand that was all. His chief advantage came from a dedication to somedistinguished personage, who could compliment him for it with a handsomegift. There were authors who made it a practice to dedicate the samework repeatedly to different persons. Erasmus has afterwards defendedhimself explicitly from that suspicion and carefully noted how many ofthose whom he honoured with a dedication gave nothing or very little. The first need, therefore, to a man in Erasmus's circumstances was tofind a Maecenas. Maecenas with the humanists was almost synonymous withpaymaster. Under the adage _Ne bos quidem pereat_ Erasmus has given adescription of the decent way of obtaining a Maecenas. Consequently, when his conduct in these years appears to us to be actuated, more thanonce, by an undignified pushing spirit, we should not gauge it by ourpresent standards. These were his years of weakness. On his return to Paris he did not again lodge in Montaigu. He tried tomake a living by giving lessons to young men of fortune. A merchant'ssons of Lübeck, Christian and Henry Northoff, who lodged with oneAugustine Vincent, were his pupils. He composed beautiful letters forthem, witty, fluent and a trifle scented. At the same time he taught twoyoung Englishmen, Thomas Grey and Robert Fisher, and conceived such adoting affection for Grey as to lead to trouble with the youth'sguardian, a Scotchman, by whom Erasmus was excessively vexed. Paris did not fail to exercise its refining influence on Erasmus. Itmade his style affectedly refined and sparkling--he pretends to disdainthe rustic products of his youth in Holland. In the meantime, the worksthrough which afterwards his influence was to spread over the wholeworld began to grow, but only to the benefit of a few readers. Theyremained unprinted as yet. For the Northoffs was composed the littlecompendium of polite conversation (in Latin), _Familiarium colloquiorumformulae_, the nucleus of the world-famous _Colloquia_. For RobertFisher he wrote the first draft of _De conscribendis epistolis_, thegreat dissertation on the art of letter-writing (Latin letters), probably also the paraphrase of Valla's _Elegantiae_, a treatise on pureLatin, which had been a beacon-light of culture to Erasmus in his youth. _De copia verborum ac rerum_ was also such a help for beginners, toprovide them with a vocabulary and abundance of turns and expressions;and also the germs of a larger work: _De ratione studii_, a manual forarranging courses of study, lay in the same line. It was a life of uncertainty and unrest. The bishop gave but littlesupport. Erasmus was not in good health and felt continually depressed. He made plans for a journey to Italy, but did not see much chance ofeffecting them. In the summer of 1498 he again travelled to Holland andto the bishop. In Holland his friends were little pleased with hisstudies. It was feared that he was contracting debts at Paris. Currentreports about him were not favourable. He found the bishop, in thecommotion of his departure for England on a mission, irritable and fullof complaints. It became more and more evident that he would have tolook out for another patron. Perhaps he might turn to the Lady of Veere, Anna of Borselen, with whom his faithful and helpful friend Batt had nowtaken service, as a tutor to her son, in the castle of Tournehem, between Calais and Saint Omer. Upon his return to Paris, Erasmus resumed his old life, but it washateful slavery to him. Batt had an invitation for him to come toTournehem, but he could not yet bear to leave Paris. Here he had now asa pupil the young Lord Mountjoy, William Blount. That meant two stringsto his bow. Batt is incited to prepare the ground for him with Anna ofVeere; William Hermans is charged with writing letters to Mountjoy, inwhich he is to praise the latter's love of literature. 'You shoulddisplay an erudite integrity, commend me, and proffer your serviceskindly. Believe me, William, your reputation, too, will benefit by it. He is a young man of great authority with his own folk; you will havesome one to distribute your writings in England. I pray you again andagain, if you love me, take this to heart. ' The visit to Tournehem took place at the beginning of 1499, followed byanother journey to Holland. Henceforward Anna of Veere passed for hispatroness. In Holland he saw his friend William Hermans and told himthat he thought of leaving for Bologna after Easter. The Dutch journeywas one of unrest and bustle; he was in a hurry to return to Paris, notto miss any opportunity which Mountjoy's affection might offer him. Heworked hard at the various writings on which he was engaged, as hard ashis health permitted after the difficult journey in winter. He wasbusily occupied in collecting the money for travelling to Italy, nowpostponed until August. But evidently Batt could not obtain as much forhim as he had hoped, and, in May, Erasmus suddenly gave up the Italianplan, and left for England with Mountjoy at the latter's request. FOOTNOTES: [2] Allen No. 43, p. 145, where the particulars of the case areexpounded with peculiar acuteness and conclusions drawn with regard tothe chronology of Erasmus's stay at Paris. CHAPTER IV FIRST STAY IN ENGLAND 1499-1500 First stay in England: 1499-1500--Oxford: John Colet--Erasmus's aspirations directed towards divinity--He is as yet mainly a literate--Fisher and More--Mishap at Dover when leaving England: 1500--Back in France he composes the _Adagia_--Years of trouble and penury Erasmus's first stay in England, which lasted from the early summer of1499 till the beginning of 1500, was to become for him a period ofinward ripening. He came there as an erudite poet, the protégé of anobleman of rank, on the road to closer contact with the great worldwhich knew how to appreciate and reward literary merit. He left thecountry with the fervent desire in future to employ his gifts, in so faras circumstances would permit, in more serious tasks. This change wasbrought about by two new friends whom he found in England, whosepersonalities were far above those who had hitherto crossed his path:John Colet and Thomas More. During all the time of his sojourn in England Erasmus is in highspirits, for him. At first it is still the man of the world who speaks, the refined man of letters, who must needs show his brilliant genius. Aristocratic life, of which he evidently had seen but little at theBishop of Cambray's and the Lady of Veere's at Tournehem, pleased himfairly well, it seems. 'Here in England', he writes in a light vein toFaustus Andrelinus, 'we have, indeed, progressed somewhat. The Erasmuswhom you know is almost a good hunter already, not too bad a horseman, anot unpractised courtier. He salutes a little more courteously, hesmiles more kindly. If you are wise, you also will alight here. ' And heteases the volatile poet by telling him about the charming girls and thelaudable custom, which he found in England, of accompanying allcompliments by kisses. [3] It even fell to his lot to make the acquaintance of royalty. FromMountjoy's estate at Greenwich, More, in the course of a walk, took himto Eltham Palace, where the royal children were educated. There he saw, surrounded by the whole royal household, the youthful Henry, who was tobe Henry VIII, a boy of nine years, together with two little sisters anda young prince, who was still an infant in arms. Erasmus was ashamedthat he had nothing to offer and, on returning home, he composed (notwithout exertion, for he had not written poetry at all for some time) apanegyric on England, which he presented to the prince with a gracefuldedication. In October Erasmus was at Oxford which, at first, did not please him, but whither Mountjoy was to follow him. He had been recommended to JohnColet, who declared that he required no recommendations: he already knewErasmus from the letter to Gaguin in the latter's historical work andthought very highly of his learning. There followed during the remainderof Erasmus's stay at Oxford a lively intercourse, in conversation and incorrespondence, which definitely decided the bent of Erasmus'smany-sided mind. [Illustration: III. JOHN COLET, DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S] John Colet, who did not differ much from Erasmus in point of age, hadfound his intellectual path earlier and more easily. Born of well-to-doparents (his father was a London magistrate and twice lord mayor), hehad been able leisurely to prosecute his studies. Not seduced by quitesuch a brilliant genius as Erasmus possessed into literary digressions, he had from the beginning fixed his attention on theology. He knew Platoand Plotinus, though not in Greek, was very well read in the olderFathers and also respectably acquainted with scholasticism, not tomention his knowledge of mathematics, law, history and the Englishpoets. In 1496 he had established himself at Oxford. Without possessinga degree in divinity, he expounded St. Paul's epistles. Although, owingto his ignorance of Greek, he was restricted to the Vulgate, he tried topenetrate to the original meaning of the sacred texts, discarding thelater commentaries. Colet had a deeply serious nature, always warring against the tendenciesof his vigorous being, and he kept within bounds his pride and the loveof pleasure. He had a keen sense of humour, which, without doubt, endeared him to Erasmus. He was an enthusiast. When defending a point intheology his ardour changed the sound of his voice, the look in hiseyes, and a lofty spirit permeated his whole person. [Illustration: IV. SIR THOMAS MORE, 1527] Out of his intercourse with Colet came the first of Erasmus'stheological writings. At the end of a discussion regarding Christ'sagony in the garden of Gethsemane, in which Erasmus had defended theusual view that Christ's fear of suffering proceeded from his humannature, Colet had exhorted him to think further about the matter. Theyexchanged letters about it and finally Erasmus committed both theiropinions to paper in the form of a 'Little disputation concerning theanguish, fear and sadness of Jesus', _Disputatiuncula de tedio, pavore, tristicia Jesu_, etc. , being an elaboration of these letters. While the tone of this pamphlet is earnest and pious, it is not trulyfervent. The man of letters is not at once and completely superseded. 'See, Colet, ' thus Erasmus ends his first letter, referring halfironically to himself, 'how I can observe the rules of propriety inconcluding such a theologic disputation with poetic fables (he had madeuse of a few mythologic metaphors). But as Horace says, _Naturamexpellas furca, tamen usque recurret_. ' This ambiguous position which Erasmus still occupied, also in things ofthe mind, appears still more clearly from the report which he sent tohis new friend, the Frisian John Sixtin, a Latin poet like himself, ofanother disputation with Colet, at a repast, probably in the hall ofMagdalen College, where Wolsey, too, was perhaps present. To hisfellow-poet, Erasmus writes as a poet, loosely and with someaffectation. It was a meal such as he liked, and afterwards frequentlypictured in his _Colloquies_: cultured company, good food, moderatedrinking, noble conversation. Colet presided. On his right hand sat theprior Charnock of St. Mary's College, where Erasmus resided (he had alsobeen present at the disputation about Christ's agony). On his left was adivine whose name is not mentioned, an advocate of scholasticism; nextto him came Erasmus, 'that the poet should not be wanting at thebanquet'. The discussion was about Cain's guilt by which he displeasedthe Lord. Colet defended the opinion that Cain had injured God bydoubting the Creator's goodness, and, in reliance on his own industry, tilling the earth, whereas Abel tended the sheep and was content withwhat grew of itself. The divine contended with syllogisms, Erasmus witharguments of 'rhetoric'. But Colet kindled, and got the better of both. After a while, when the dispute had lasted long enough and had becomemore serious than was suitable for table-talk--'then I said, in order toplay my part, the part of the poet that is--to abate the contention andat the same time cheer the meal with a pleasant tale: "it is a very oldstory, it has to be unearthed from the very oldest authors. I will tellyou what I found about it in literature, if you will promise me firstthat you will not look upon it as a fable. "' And now he relates a witty story of some very ancient codex in which hehad read how Cain, who had often heard his parents speak of the gloriousvegetation of Paradise, where the ears of corn were as high as thealders with us, had prevailed upon the angel who guarded it, to give himsome Paradisal grains. God would not mind it, if only he left the applesalone. The speech by which the angel is incited to disobey the Almightyis a masterpiece of Erasmian wit. 'Do you find it pleasant to standthere by the gate with a big sword? We have just begun to use dogs forthat sort of work. It is not so bad on earth and it will be betterstill; we shall learn, no doubt, to cure diseases. What that forbiddenknowledge matters I do not see very clearly. Though, in that matter, too, unwearied industry surmounts all obstacles. ' In this way theguardian is seduced. But when God beholds the miraculous effect ofCain's agricultural management, punishment does not fail to ensue. Amore delicate way of combining Genesis and the Prometheus myth nohumanist had yet invented. But still, though Erasmus went on conducting himself as a man of lettersamong his fellow-poets, his heart was no longer in those literaryexercises. It is one of the peculiarities of Erasmus's mental growththat it records no violent crises. We never find him engaged in thosebitter inward struggles which are in the experience of so many greatminds. His transition from interest in literary matters to interest inreligious matters is not in the nature of a process of conversion. Thereis no Tarsus in Erasmus's life. The transition takes place gradually andis never complete. For many years to come Erasmus can, without suspicionof hypocrisy, at pleasure, as his interests or his moods require, playthe man of letters or the theologian. He is a man with whom the deepercurrents of the soul gradually rise to the surface; who raises himselfto the height of his ethical consciousness under the stress ofcircumstances, rather than at the spur of some irresistible impulse. The desire to turn only to matters of faith he shows early. 'I haveresolved', he writes in his monastic period to Cornelius of Gouda, 'towrite no more poems in the future, except such as savour of praise ofthe saints, or of sanctity itself. ' But that was the youthful piousresolve of a moment. During all the years previous to the first voyageto England, Erasmus's writings, and especially his letters, betray aworldly disposition. It only leaves him in moments of illness andweariness. Then the world displeases him and he despises his ownambition; he desires to live in holy quiet, musing on Scripture andshedding tears over his old errors. But these are utterances inspired bythe occasion, which one should not take too seriously. It was Colet's word and example which first changed Erasmus's desultoryoccupation with theological studies into a firm and lasting resolve tomake their pursuit the object of his life. Colet urged him to expoundthe Pentateuch or the prophet Isaiah at Oxford, just as he himselftreated of Paul's epistles. Erasmus declined; he could not do it. Thisbespoke insight and self-knowledge, by which he surpassed Colet. Thelatter's intuitive Scripture interpretation without knowledge of theoriginal language failed to satisfy Erasmus. 'You are actingimprudently, my dear Colet, in trying to obtain water from apumice-stone (in the words of Plautus). How shall I be so impudent as toteach that which I have not learned myself? How shall I warm otherswhile shivering and trembling with cold?... You complain that you findyourself deceived in your expectations regarding me. But I have neverpromised you such a thing; you have deceived yourself by refusing tobelieve me when I was telling you the truth regarding myself. Neitherdid I come here to teach poetics or rhetoric (Colet had hinted at that);these have ceased to be sweet to me, since they ceased to be necessaryto me. I decline the one task because it does not come up to my aim inlife; the other because it is beyond my strength ... But when, one day, I shall be conscious that the necessary power is in me, I, too, shallchoose your part and devote to the assertion of divinity, if noexcellent, yet sincere labour. ' The inference which Erasmus drew first of all was that he should knowGreek better than he had thus far been able to learn it. Meanwhile his stay in England was rapidly drawing to a close; he had toreturn to Paris. Towards the end of his sojourn he wrote to his formerpupil, Robert Fisher, who was in Italy, in a high-pitched tone about thesatisfaction which he experienced in England. A most pleasant andwholesome climate (he was most sensitive to it); so much humanity anderudition--not of the worn-out and trivial sort, but of the recondite, genuine, ancient, Latin and Greek stamp--that he need hardly any morelong to go to Italy. In Colet he thought he heard Plato himself. Grocyn, the Grecian scholar; Linacre, the learned physician, who would notadmire them! And whose spirit was ever softer, sweeter or happier thanthat of Thomas More! A disagreeable incident occurred as Erasmus was leaving English soil inJanuary 1500. Unfortunately it not only obscured his pleasant memoriesof the happy island, but also placed another obstacle in the path of hiscareer, and left in his supersensitive soul a sting which vexed him foryears afterwards. The livelihood which he had been gaining at Paris of late years wasprecarious. The support from the bishop had probably been withdrawn;that of Anna of Veere had trickled but languidly; he could not toofirmly rely on Mountjoy. Under these circumstances a modest fund, someprovision against a rainy day, was of the highest consequence. Suchsavings he brought from England, twenty pounds. An act of Edward III, re-enacted by Henry VII not long before, prohibited the export of goldand silver, but More and Mountjoy had assured Erasmus that he couldsafely take his money with him, if only it was not in English coin. AtDover he learned that the custom-house officers were of a differentopinion. He might only keep six 'angels'--the rest was left behind inthe hands of the officials and was evidently confiscated. The shock which this incident gave him perhaps contributed to hisfancying himself threatened by robbers and murderers on the road fromCalais to Paris. The loss of his money plunged him afresh intoperplexity as to his support from day to day. It forced him to resumethe profession of a _bel esprit_, which he already began to loathe, andto take all the humiliating steps to get what was due to it frompatrons. And, above all, it affected his mental balance and his dignity. Yet this mishap had its great advantage for the world, and for Erasmus, too, after all. To it the world owes the _Adagia_; and he the fame, which began with this work. The feelings with which his misfortune at Dover inspired Erasmus werebitter anger and thirst for revenge. A few months later he writes toBatt: 'Things with me are as they are wont to be in such cases: thewound received in England begins to smart only now that it has becomeinveterate, and that the more as I cannot have my revenge in any way'. And six months later, 'I shall swallow it. An occasion may offer itself, no doubt, to be even with them. ' Yet meanwhile true insight told thisman, whose strength did not always attain to his ideals, that theEnglish, whom he had just seen in such a favourable light, let alone hisspecial friends among them, were not accessories to the misfortune. Henever reproached More and Mountjoy, whose inaccurate information, hetells us, had done the harm. At the same time his interest, which healways saw in the garb of virtue, told him that now especially it wouldbe essential not to break off his relations with England, and that thisgave him a splendid chance of strengthening them. Afterwards heexplained this with a naïveté which often causes his writings, especially where he tries to suppress or cloak matters, to read likeconfessions. 'Returning to Paris a poor man, I understood that many would expect Ishould take revenge with my pen for this mishap, after the fashion ofmen of letters, by writing something venomous against the king oragainst England. At the same time I was afraid that William Mountjoy, having indirectly caused my loss of money, would be apprehensive oflosing my affection. In order, therefore, both to put the expectationsof those people to shame, and to make known that I was not so unfair asto blame the country for a private wrong, or so inconsiderate as, because of a small loss, to risk making the king displeased with myselfor with my friends in England, and at the same time to give my friendMountjoy a proof that I was no less kindly disposed towards him thanbefore, I resolved to publish something as quickly as possible. As I hadnothing ready, I hastily brought together, by a few days' reading, acollection of Adagia, in the supposition that such a booklet, however itmight turn out, by its mere usefulness would get into the hands ofstudents. In this way I demonstrated that my friendship had not cooledoff at all. Next, in a poem I subjoined, I protested that I was notangry with the king or with the country at being deprived of my money. And my scheme was not ill received. That moderation and candour procuredme a good many friends in England at the time--erudite, upright andinfluential men. ' This is a characteristic specimen of semi-ethical conduct. In this wayErasmus succeeded in dealing with his indignation, so that later on hecould declare, when the recollection came up occasionally, 'At one blowI had lost all my fortune, but I was so unconcerned that I returned tomy books all the more cheerfully and ardently'. But his friends knew howdeep the wound had been. 'Now (on hearing that Henry VIII had ascendedthe throne) surely all bitterness must have suddenly left your soul, 'Mountjoy writes to him in 1509, possibly through the pen of Ammonius. The years after his return to France were difficult ones. He was ingreat need of money and was forced to do what he could, as a man ofletters, with his talents and knowledge. He had again to be the _homopoeticus_ or _rhetoricus_. He writes polished letters full of mythologyand modest mendicity. As a poet he had a reputation; as a poet he couldexpect support. Meanwhile the elevating picture of his theologicalactivities remained present before his mind's eye. It nerves him toenergy and perseverance. 'It is incredible', he writes to Batt, 'how mysoul yearns to finish all my works, at the same time becoming somewhatproficient in Greek, and afterwards to devote myself entirely to thesacred learning after which my soul has been hankering for a long time. I am in fairly good health, so I shall have to strain every nerve thisyear (1501) to get the work we gave the printer published, and bydealing with theological problems, to expose our cavillers, who are verynumerous, as they deserve. If three more years of life are granted me, Ishall be beyond the reach of envy. ' Here we see him in a frame of mind to accomplish great things, thoughnot merely under the impulse of true devotion. Already he sees therestoration of genuine divinity as his task; unfortunately the effusionis contained in a letter in which he instructs the faithful Batt as tohow he should handle the Lady of Veere in order to wheedle money out ofher. For years to come the efforts to make a living were to cause him almostconstant tribulations and petty cares. He had had more than enough ofFrance and desired nothing better than to leave it. Part of the year1500 he spent at Orléans. Adversity made him narrow. There is the storyof his relations with Augustine Vincent Caminade, a humanist of lesserrank (he ended as syndic of Middelburg), who took young men as lodgers. It is too long to detail here, but remarkable enough as revealingErasmus's psychology, for it shows how deeply he mistrusted his friends. There are also his relations with Jacobus Voecht, in whose house heevidently lived gratuitously and for whom he managed to procure a richlodger in the person of an illegitimate brother of the Bishop ofCambray. At this time, Erasmus asserts, the bishop (Antimaecenas he nowcalls him) set Standonck to dog him in Paris. Much bitterness there is in the letters of this period. Erasmus issuspicious, irritable, exacting, sometimes rude in writing to hisfriends. He cannot bear William Hermans any longer because of hisepicureanism and his lack of energy, to which he, Erasmus, certainly wasa stranger. But what grieves us most is the way he speaks to honestBatt. He is highly praised, certainly. Erasmus promises to make himimmortal, too. But how offended he is, when Batt cannot at once complywith his imperious demands. How almost shameless are his instructions asto what Batt is to tell the Lady of Veere, in order to solicit herfavour for Erasmus. And how meagre the expressions of his sorrow, whenthe faithful Batt is taken from him by death in the first half of 1502. It is as if Erasmus had revenged himself on Batt for having been obligedto reveal himself to his true friend in need more completely than hecared to appear to anyone; or for having disavowed to Anna of Borselenhis fundamental convictions, his most refined taste, for the sake of ameagre gratuity. He has paid homage to her in that ponderous Burgundianstyle with which dynasties in the Netherlands were familiar, and whichmust have been hateful to him. He has flattered her formal piety. 'Isend you a few prayers, by means of which you could, as by incantations, call down, even against her will, from Heaven, so to say, not the moon, but her who gave birth to the sun of justice. ' Did you smile your delicate smile, O author of the _Colloquies_, whilewriting this? So much the worse for you. FOOTNOTES: [3] Allen No. 103. 17. Cf. _Chr. Matrim. Inst. _ LB. V. 678 and _Centnouvelles_ 2. 63, 'ung baiser, dont les dames et demoiselles du dit paysd'Angleterre sont assez libérales de l'accorder'. CHAPTER V ERASMUS AS A HUMANIST Significance of the _Adagia_ and similar works of later years--Erasmus as a divulger of classical culture-- Latin--Estrangement from Holland--Erasmus as a Netherlander Meanwhile renown came to Erasmus as the fruit of those literary studieswhich, as he said, had ceased to be dear to him. In 1500 that workappeared which Erasmus had written after his misfortune at Dover, andhad dedicated to Mountjoy, the _Adagiorum Collectanea_. It was acollection of about eight hundred proverbial sayings drawn from theLatin authors of antiquity and elucidated for the use of those whoaspired to write an elegant Latin style. In the dedication Erasmuspointed out the profit an author may derive, both in ornamenting hisstyle and in strengthening his argumentation, from having at hisdisposal a good supply of sentences hallowed by their antiquity. Heproposes to offer such a help to his readers. What he actually gave wasmuch more. He familiarized a much wider circle than the earlierhumanists had reached with the spirit of antiquity. Until this time the humanists had, to some extent, monopolized thetreasures of classic culture, in order to parade their knowledge ofwhich the multitude remained destitute, and so to become strangeprodigies of learning and elegance. With his irresistible need ofteaching and his sincere love for humanity and its general culture, Erasmus introduced the classic spirit, in so far as it could bereflected in the soul of a sixteenth-century Christian, among thepeople. Not he alone; but none more extensively and more effectively. Not among all the people, it is true, for by writing in Latin he limitedhis direct influence to the educated classes, which in those days werethe upper classes. Erasmus made current the classic spirit. Humanism ceased to be theexclusive privilege of a few. According to Beatus Rhenanus he had beenreproached by some humanists, when about to publish the _Adagia_, fordivulging the mysteries of their craft. But he desired that the book ofantiquity should be open to all. The literary and educational works of Erasmus, the chief of which werebegun in his Parisian period, though most of them appeared much later, have, in truth, brought about a transmutation of the general modes ofexpression and of argumentation. It should be repeated over and overagain that this was not achieved by him single-handed; countless othersat that time were similarly engaged. But we have only to cast an eye onthe broad current of editions of the _Adagia_, of the _Colloquia_, etc. , to realize of how much greater consequence he was in this respect thanall the others. 'Erasmus' is the only name in all the host of humanistswhich has remained a household word all over the globe. Here we will anticipate the course of Erasmus's life for a moment, toenumerate the principal works of this sort. Some years later the_Adagia_ increased from hundreds to thousands, through which not onlyLatin, but also Greek, wisdom spoke. In 1514 he published in the samemanner a collection of similitudes, _Parabolae_. It was a partialrealization of what he had conceived to supplement the _Adagia_--metaphors, saws, allusions, poetical and scriptural allegories, all tobe dealt with in a similar way. Towards the end of his life he publisheda similar thesaurus of the witty anecdotes and the striking words ordeeds of wisdom of antiquity, the _Apophthegmata_. In addition to thesecollections, we find manuals of a more grammatical nature, also piled uptreasury-like: 'On the stock of expressions', _De copia verborum etrerum_, 'On letter-writing', _De conscribendis epistolis_, not tomention works of less importance. By a number of Latin translations ofGreek authors Erasmus had rendered a point of prospect accessible tothose who did not wish to climb the whole mountain. And, finally, asinimitable models of the manner in which to apply all that knowledge, there were the _Colloquia_ and that almost countless multitude ofletters which have flowed from Erasmus's pen. All this collectively made up antiquity (in such quantity and quality asit was obtainable in the sixteenth century) exhibited in an emporiumwhere it might be had at retail. Each student could get what was to histaste; everything was to be had there in a great variety of designs. 'You may read my _Adagia_ in such a manner', says Erasmus (of the lateraugmented edition), 'that as soon as you have finished one, you mayimagine you have finished the whole book. ' He himself made indices tofacilitate its use. In the world of scholasticism he alone had up to now been considered anauthority who had mastered the technicalities of its system of thoughtand its mode of expression in all its details and was versed in biblicalknowledge, logic and philosophy. Between scholastic parlance and thespontaneously written popular languages, there yawned a wide gulf. Humanism since Petrarch had substituted for the rigidly syllogisticstructure of an argument the loose style of the antique, free, suggestive phrase. In this way the language of the learned approachedthe natural manner of expression of daily life and raised the popularlanguages, even where it continued to use Latin, to its own level. The wealth of subject-matter was found with no one in greater abundancethan with Erasmus. What knowledge of life, what ethics, all supported bythe indisputable authority of the Ancients, all expressed in that fine, airy form for which he was admired. And such knowledge of antiquities inaddition to all this! Illimitable was the craving for and illimitablethe power to absorb what is extraordinary in real life. This was one ofthe principal characteristics of the spirit of the Renaissance. Theseminds never had their desired share of striking incidents, curiousdetails, rarities and anomalies. There was, as yet, no symptom of thatmental dyspepsia of later periods, which can no longer digest realityand relishes it no more. Men revelled in plenty. And yet, were not Erasmus and his fellow-workers as leaders ofcivilization on a wrong track? Was it true reality they were aiming at?Was their proud Latinity not a fatal error? There is one of the crucialpoints of history. A present-day reader who should take up the _Adagia_ or the_Apophthegmata_ with a view to enriching his own life (for they weremeant for this purpose and it is what gave them value), would soon askhimself: 'What matter to us, apart from strictly philological orhistorical considerations, those endless details concerning obscurepersonages of antique society, of Phrygians, of Thessalians? They arenothing to me. ' And--he will continue--they really mattered nothing toErasmus's contemporaries either. The stupendous history of the sixteenthcentury was not enacted in classic phrases or turns; it was not based onclassic interests or views of life. There were no Phrygians andThessalians, no Agesilauses or Dionysiuses. The humanists created out ofall this a mental realm, emancipated from the limitations of time. And did their own times pass without being influenced by them? That isthe question, and we shall not attempt to answer it: to what extent didhumanism influence the course of events? In any case Erasmus and his coadjutors greatly heightened theinternational character of civilization which had existed throughout theMiddle Ages because of Latin and of the Church. If they thought theywere really making Latin a vehicle for daily international use, theyoverrated their power. It was, no doubt, an amusing fancy and a wittyexercise to plan, in such an international _milieu_ as the Parisianstudent world, such models of sports and games in Latin as the_Colloquiorum formulae_ offered. But can Erasmus have seriously thoughtthat the next generation would play at marbles in Latin? Still, intellectual intercourse undoubtedly became very easy in so widea circle as had not been within reach in Europe since the fall of theRoman Empire. Henceforth it was no longer the clergy alone, and anoccasional literate, but a numerous multitude of sons of burghers andnobles, qualifying for some magisterial office, who passed through agrammar-school and found Erasmus in their path. Erasmus could not have attained to his world-wide celebrity if it hadnot been for Latin. To make his native tongue a universal language wasbeyond him. It may well puzzle a fellow-countryman of Erasmus to guesswhat a talent like his, with his power of observation, his delicacy ofexpression, his gusto and wealth, might have meant to Dutch literature. Just imagine the _Colloquia_ written in the racy Dutch of the sixteenthcentury! What could he not have produced if, instead of gleaning andcommenting upon classic Adagia, he had, for his themes, availed himselfof the proverbs of the vernacular? To us such a proverb is perhaps evenmore sapid than the sometimes slightly finical turns praised by Erasmus. This, however, is to reason unhistorically; this was not what the timesrequired and what Erasmus could give. It is quite clear why Erasmuscould only write in Latin. Moreover, in the vernacular everything wouldhave appeared too direct, too personal, too real, for his taste. Hecould not do without that thin veil of vagueness, of remoteness, inwhich everything is wrapped when expressed in Latin. His fastidious mindwould have shrunk from the pithy coarseness of a Rabelais, or the rusticviolence of Luther's German. Estrangement from his native tongue had begun for Erasmus as early asthe days when he learned reading and writing. Estrangement from the landof his birth set in when he left the monastery of Steyn. It wasfurthered not a little by the ease with which he handled Latin. Erasmus, who could express himself as well in Latin as in his mother tongue, andeven better, consequently lacked the experience of, after all, feelingthoroughly at home and of being able to express himself fully, onlyamong his compatriots. There was, however, another psychologicalinfluence which acted to alienate him from Holland. After he had seen atParis the perspectives of his own capacities, he became confirmed in theconviction that Holland failed to appreciate him, that it distrusted andslandered him. Perhaps there was indeed some ground for this conviction. But, partly, it was also a reaction of injured self-love. In Hollandpeople knew too much about him. They had seen him in his smallnesses andfeebleness. There he had been obliged to obey others--he who, above allthings, wanted to be free. Distaste of the narrow-mindedness, thecoarseness and intemperance which he knew to prevail there, were summedup, within him, in a general condemnatory judgement of the Dutchcharacter. Henceforth he spoke as a rule about Holland with a sort of apologeticcontempt. 'I see that you are content with Dutch fame, ' he writes to hisold friend William Hermans, who like Cornelius Aurelius had begun todevote his best forces to the history of his native country. 'In Hollandthe air is good for me, ' he writes elsewhere, 'but the extravagantcarousals annoy me; add to this the vulgar uncultured character of thepeople, the violent contempt of study, no fruit of learning, the mostegregious envy. ' And excusing the imperfection of his juvenilia, hesays: 'At that time I wrote not for Italians, but for Hollanders, thatis to say, for the dullest ears'. And, in another place, 'eloquence isdemanded from a Dutchman, that is, from a more hopeless person than aB[oe]otian'. And again, 'If the story is not very witty, remember it isa Dutch story'. No doubt, false modesty had its share in such sayings. After 1496 he visited Holland only on hasty journeys. There is noevidence that after 1501 he ever set foot on Dutch soil. He dissuadedhis own compatriots abroad from returning to Holland. Still, now and again, a cordial feeling of sympathy for his nativecountry stirred within him. Just where he would have had an opportunity, in explaining Martial's _Auris Batava_ in the _Adagia_, for venting hisspleen, he availed himself of the chance of writing an eloquentpanegyric on what was dearest to him in Holland, 'a country that I amalways bound to honour and revere, as that which gave me birth. Would Imight be a credit to it, just as, on the other hand, I need not beashamed of it. ' Their reputed boorishness rather redounds to theirhonour. 'If a "Batavian ear" means a horror of Martial's obscene jokes, I could wish that all Christians might have Dutch ears. When we considertheir morals, no nation is more inclined to humanity and benevolence, less savage or cruel. Their mind is upright and void of cunning and allhumbug. If they are somewhat sensual and excessive at meals, it resultspartly from their plentiful supply: nowhere is import so easy andfertility so great. What an extent of lush meadows, how many navigablerivers! Nowhere are so many towns crowded together within so small anarea; not large towns, indeed, but excellently governed. Theircleanliness is praised by everybody. Nowhere are such large numbers ofmoderately learned persons found, though extraordinary and exquisiteerudition is rather rare. ' They were Erasmus's own most cherished ideals which he here ascribes tohis compatriots--gentleness, sincerity, simplicity, purity. He soundsthat note of love for Holland on other occasions. When speaking of lazywomen, he adds: 'In France there are large numbers of them, but inHolland we find countless wives who by their industry support theiridling and revelling husbands'. And in the colloquy entitled 'TheShipwreck', the people who charitably take in the castaways areHollanders. 'There is no more humane people than this, though surroundedby violent nations. ' In addressing English readers it is perhaps not superfluous to point outonce again that Erasmus when speaking of Holland, or using the epithet'Batavian', refers to the county of Holland, which at present forms theprovinces of North and South Holland of the kingdom of the Netherlands, and stretches from the Wadden islands to the estuaries of the Meuse. Even the nearest neighbours, such as Zealanders and Frisians, are notincluded in this appellation. But it is a different matter when Erasmus speaks of _patria_, thefatherland, or of _nostras_, a compatriot. In those days a nationalconsciousness was just budding all over the Netherlands. A man stillfelt himself a Hollander, a Frisian, a Fleming, a Brabantine in thefirst place; but the community of language and customs, and still morethe strong political influence which for nearly a century had beenexercised by the Burgundian dynasty, which had united most of these lowcountries under its sway, had cemented a feeling of solidarity which didnot even halt at the linguistic frontier in Belgium. It was still rathera strong Burgundian patriotism (even after Habsburg had _de facto_occupied the place of Burgundy) than a strictly Netherlandish feeling ofnationality. People liked, by using a heraldic symbol, to designate theNetherlander as 'the Lions'. Erasmus, too, employs the term. In hisworks we gradually see the narrower Hollandish patriotism gliding intothe Burgundian Netherlandish. In the beginning, _patria_ with him stillmeans Holland proper, but soon it meant the Netherlands. It is curiousto trace how by degrees his feelings regarding Holland, made up ofdisgust and attachment, are transferred to the Low Countries in general. 'In my youth', he says in 1535, repeating himself, 'I did not write forItalians but for Hollanders, the people of Brabant and Flemings. ' Sothey now all share the reputation of bluntness. To Louvain is appliedwhat formerly was said of Holland: there are too many compotations;nothing can be done without a drinking bout. Nowhere, he repeatedlycomplains, is there so little sense of the _bonae literae_, nowhere isstudy so despised as in the Netherlands, and nowhere are there morecavillers and slanderers. But also his affection has expanded. WhenLongolius of Brabant plays the Frenchman, Erasmus is vexed: 'I devotednearly three days to Longolius; he was uncommonly pleasing, except onlythat he is too French, whereas it is well known that he is one ofus'. [4] When Charles V has obtained the crown of Spain, Erasmus notes:'a singular stroke of luck, but I pray that it may also prove a blessingto the fatherland, and not only to the prince'. When his strength wasbeginning to fail he began to think more and more of returning to hisnative country. 'King Ferdinand invites me, with large promises, to cometo Vienna, ' he writes from Basle, 1 October 1528, 'but nowhere would itplease me better to rest than in Brabant. ' [Illustration: V. Doodles by Erasmus in the margin of one of hismanuscripts. ] [Illustration: VI. A manuscript page of Erasmus] FOOTNOTES: [4] Allen No. 1026. 4, cf. 914, intr. P. 473. Later Erasmus was made tobelieve that Longolius was a Hollander, cf. LBE. 1507 A. CHAPTER VI THEOLOGICAL ASPIRATIONS 1501 At Tournehem: 1501--The restoration of theology now the aim of his life--He learns Greek--John Vitrier--_Enchiridion Militis Christiani_ The lean years continued with Erasmus. His livelihood remaineduncertain, and he had no fixed abode. It is remarkable that, in spite ofhis precarious means of support, his movements were ever guided ratherby the care for his health than for his sustenance, and his studiesrather by his burning desire to penetrate to the purest sources ofknowledge than by his advantage. Repeatedly the fear of the plaguedrives him on: in 1500 from Paris to Orléans, where he first lodges withAugustine Caminade; but when one of the latter's boarders falls ill, Erasmus moves. Perhaps it was the impressions dating from his youth atDeventer that made him so excessively afraid of the plague, which inthose days raged practically without intermission. Faustus Andrelinussent a servant to upbraid him in his name with cowardice: 'That would bean intolerable insult', Erasmus answers, 'if I were a Swiss soldier, buta poet's soul, loving peace and shady places, is proof against it'. Inthe spring of 1501 he leaves Paris once more for fear of the plague:'the frequent burials frighten me', he writes to Augustine. He travelled first to Holland, where, at Steyn, he obtained leave tospend another year outside the monastery, for the sake of study; hisfriends would be ashamed if he returned, after so many years of study, without having acquired some authority. At Haarlem he visited his friendWilliam Hermans, then turned to the south, once again to pay hisrespects to the Bishop of Cambray, probably at Brussels. Thence he wentto Veere, but found no opportunity to talk to his patroness. In July1501, he subsided into quietness at the castle of Tournehem with hisfaithful friend Batt. In all his comings and goings he does not for a moment lose sight of hisideals of study. Since his return from England he is mastered by twodesires: to edit Jerome, the great Father of the Church, and, especially, to learn Greek thoroughly. 'You understand how much all thismatters to my fame, nay, to my preservation, ' he writes (from Orléanstowards the end of 1500) to Batt. But, indeed, had Erasmus been anordinary fame and success hunter he might have had recourse to plenty ofother expedients. It was the ardent desire to penetrate to the sourceand to make others understand that impelled him, even when he availedhimself of these projects of study to raise a little money. 'Listen, ' hewrites to Batt, 'to what more I desire from you. You must wrest a giftfrom the abbot (of Saint Bertin). You know the man's disposition; inventsome modest and plausible reason for begging. Tell him that I purposesomething grand, viz. , to restore the whole of Jerome, howevercomprehensive he may be, and spoiled, mutilated, entangled by theignorance of divines; and to re-insert the Greek passages. I venture tosay, I shall be able to lay open the antiquities and the style ofJerome, understood by no one as yet. Tell him that I shall want not afew books for the purpose, and moreover the help of Greeks, and thattherefore I require support. In saying this, Battus, you will be tellingno lies. For I really mean to do all this. ' He was, indeed, in a serious mood on this point, as he was soon to proveto the world. His conquest of Greek was a veritable feat of heroism. Hehad learned the simplest rudiments at Deventer, but these evidentlyamounted to very little. In March, 1500, he writes to Batt: 'Greek isnearly killing me, but I have no time and I have no money to buy booksor to take a master'. When Augustine Caminade wants his Homer back whichhe had lent to him, Erasmus complains: 'You deprive me of my soleconsolation in my tedium. For I so burn with love for this author, though I cannot understand him, that I feast my eyes and re-create mymind by looking at him. ' Was Erasmus aware that in saying this he almostliterally reproduced feelings which Petrarch had expressed a hundred andfifty years before? But he had already begun to study. Whether he had amaster is not quite clear, but it is probable. He finds the languagedifficult at first. Then gradually he ventures to call himself 'acandidate in this language', and he begins with more confidence toscatter Greek quotations through his letters. It occupies him night andday and he urges all his friends to procure Greek books for him. In theautumn of 1502 he declares that he can properly write all he wants inGreek, and that extempore. He was not deceived in his expectation thatGreek would open his eyes to the right understanding of Holy Scripture. Three years of nearly uninterrupted study amply rewarded him for histrouble. Hebrew, which he had also taken up, he abandoned. At that time(1504) he made translations from the Greek, he employed it critically inhis theological studies, he taught it, amongst others, to William Cop, the French physician-humanist. A few years later he was to find littlein Italy to improve his proficiency in Greek; he was afterwards inclinedto believe that he carried more of the two ancient languages to thatcountry than he brought back. Nothing testifies more to the enthusiasm with which Erasmus appliedhimself to Greek than his zeal to make his best friends share in itsblessings. Batt, he decided, should learn Greek. But Batt had no time, and Latin appealed more to him. When Erasmus goes to Haarlem to visitWilliam Hermans, it is to make him a Greek scholar too; he has brought ahandbag full of books. But he had only his trouble for his pains. William did not take at all kindly to this study and Erasmus was sodisappointed that he not only considered his money and trouble thrownaway, but also thought he had lost a friend. Meanwhile he was still undecided where he should go in the near future. To England, to Italy, or back to Paris? In the end he made a fairly longstay as a guest, from the autumn of 1501 till the following summer, first at Saint Omer, with the prior of Saint Bertin, and afterwards atthe castle of Courtebourne, not far off. At Saint Omer, Erasmus became acquainted with a man whose image he wasafterwards to place beside that of Colet as that of a true divine, andof a good monk at the same time: Jean Vitrier, the warden of theFranciscan monastery at Saint Omer. Erasmus must have felt attracted toa man who was burdened with a condemnation pronounced by the Sorbonne onaccount of his too frank expressions regarding the abuses of monasticlife. Vitrier had not given up the life on that account, but he devotedhimself to reforming monasteries and convents. Having progressed fromscholasticism to Saint Paul, he had formed a very liberal conception ofChristian life, strongly opposed to practices and ceremonies. This man, without doubt, considerably influenced the origin of one of Erasmus'smost celebrated and influential works, the _Enchiridion militisChristiani_. Erasmus himself afterwards confessed that the _Enchiridion_ was born bychance. He did not reflect that some outward circumstance is often madeto serve an inward impulse. The outward circumstance was that the castleof Tournehem was frequented by a soldier, a friend of Batt, a man ofvery dissolute conduct, who behaved very badly towards his pious wife, and who was, moreover, an uncultured and violent hater of priests. [5]For the rest he was of a kindly disposition and excepted Erasmus fromhis hatred of divines. The wife used her influence with Batt to getErasmus to write something which might bring her husband to take aninterest in religion. Erasmus complied with the request and Jean Vitrierconcurred so cordially with the views expressed in these notes thatErasmus afterwards elaborated them at Louvain; in 1504 they werepublished at Antwerp by Dirck Maertensz. This is the outward genesis of the _Enchiridion_. But the inward causewas that sooner or later Erasmus was bound to formulate his attitudetowards the religious conduct of the life of his day and towardsceremonial and soulless conceptions of Christian duty, which were aneyesore to him. In point of form the _Enchiridion_ is a manual for an illiterate soldierto attain to an attitude of mind worthy of Christ; as with a finger hewill point out to him the shortest path to Christ. He assumes the friendto be weary of life at court--a common theme of contemporary literature. Only for a few days does Erasmus interrupt the work of his life, thepurification of theology, to comply with his friend's request forinstruction. To keep up a soldierly style he chooses the title, _Enchiridion_, the Greek word that even in antiquity meant both aponiard and a manual:[6] 'The poniard of the militant Christian'. [7] Hereminds him of the duty of watchfulness and enumerates the weapons ofChrist's militia. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. The generalrules of the Christian conduct of life are followed by a number ofremedies for particular sins and faults. Such is the outward frame. But within this scope Erasmus finds anopportunity, for the first time, to develop his theological programme. This programme calls upon us to return to Scripture. It should be theendeavour of every Christian to understand Scripture in its purity andoriginal meaning. To that end he should prepare himself by the study ofthe Ancients, orators, poets, philosophers; Plato especially. Also thegreat Fathers of the Church, Jerome, Ambrose, Augustine will be founduseful, but not the large crowd of subsequent exegetists. The argumentchiefly aims at subverting the conception of religion as a continualobservance of ceremonies. This is Judaic ritualism and of no value. Itis better to understand a single verse of the psalms well, by this meansto deepen one's understanding of God and of oneself, and to draw a moraland line of conduct from it, than to read the whole psalter withoutattention. If the ceremonies do not renew the soul they are valuelessand hurtful. 'Many are wont to count how many masses they have heardevery day, and referring to them as to something very important, asthough they owed Christ nothing else, they return to their former habitsafter leaving church. ' 'Perhaps you sacrifice every day and yet you livefor yourself. You worship the saints, you like to touch their relics; doyou want to earn Peter and Paul? Then copy the faith of the one and thecharity of the other and you will have done more than if you had walkedto Rome ten times. ' He does not reject formulae and practices; he doesnot want to shake the faith of the humble but he cannot suffer thatChrist is offered a cult made up of practices only. And why is it themonks, above all, who contribute to the deterioration of faith? 'I amashamed to tell how superstitiously most of them observe certain pettyceremonies, invented by puny human minds (and not even for thispurpose), how hatefully they want to force others to conform to them, how implicitly they trust them, how boldly they condemn others. ' Let Paul teach them true Christianity. 'Stand fast therefore in theliberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled againwith the yoke of bondage. ' This word to the Galatians contains thedoctrine of Christian liberty, which soon at the Reformation was toresound so loudly. Erasmus did not apply it here in a sense derogatoryto the dogmatics of the Catholic Church; but still it is a fact that the_Enchiridion_ prepared many minds to give up much that he still wantedto keep. The note of the _Enchiridion_ is already what was to remain the note ofErasmus's life-work: how revolting it is that in this world thesubstance and the shadow differ so and that the world reverences thosewhom it should not reverence; that a hedge of infatuation, routine andthoughtlessness prevents mankind from seeing things in their trueproportions. He expresses it later in the _Praise of Folly_ and in the_Colloquies_. It is not merely religious feeling, it is equally socialfeeling that inspired him. Under the heading: Opinions worthy of aChristian, he laments the extremes of pride of class, nationalhostility, professional envy, and rivalry between religious orders, which keep men apart. Let everybody sincerely concern himself about hisbrother. 'Throwing dice cost you a thousand gold pieces in one night, and meanwhile some wretched girl, compelled by poverty, sold hermodesty; and a soul is lost for which Christ gave his own. You say, whatis that to me? I mind my own business, according to my lights. And yetyou, holding such opinions, consider yourself a Christian, who are noteven a man!' In the _Enchiridion_ of the militant Christian, Erasmus had for thefirst time said the things which he had most at heart, with fervour andindignation, with sincerity and courage. And yet one would hardly saythat this booklet was born of an irresistible impulse of ardent piety. Erasmus treats it, as we have seen, as a trifle, composed at the requestof a friend in a couple of days stolen from his studies (though, strictly speaking, this only holds good of the first draft, which heelaborated afterwards). The chief object of his studies he had alreadyconceived to be the restoration of theology. One day he will expoundPaul, 'that the slanderers who consider it the height of piety to knownothing of _bonae literae_, may understand that we in our youth embracedthe cultured literature of the Ancients, and that we acquired a correctknowledge of the two languages, Greek and Latin--not without manyvigils--not for the purpose of vainglory or childish satisfaction, butbecause, long before, we premeditated adorning the temple of the Lord(which some have too much desecrated by their ignorance and barbarism)according to our strength, with help from foreign parts, so that also innoble minds the love of Holy Scripture may be kindled'. Is it not stillthe Humanist who speaks? We hear, moreover, the note of personal justification. It is soundedalso in a letter to Colet written towards the close of 1504, accompanying the edition of the _Lucubrationes_ in which the_Enchiridion_ was first published. 'I did not write the _Enchiridion_ toparade my invention or eloquence, but only that I might correct theerror of those whose religion is usually composed of more than Judaicceremonies and observances of a material sort, and who neglect thethings that conduce to piety. ' He adds, and this is typicallyhumanistic, 'I have tried to give the reader a sort of art of piety, asothers have written the theory of certain sciences'. The art of piety! Erasmus might have been surprised had he known thatanother treatise, written more than sixty years before, by another canonof the Low Countries would continue to appeal much longer and much moreurgently to the world than his manual: the _Imitatio Christi_ by Thomasà Kempis. The _Enchiridion_, collected with some other pieces into a volume of_Lucubrationes_, did not meet with such a great and speedy success ashad been bestowed upon the _Adagia_. That Erasmus's speculations on truepiety were considered too bold was certainly not the cause. Theycontained nothing antagonistic to the teachings of the Church, so thateven at the time of the Counter-Reformation, when the Church had becomehighly suspicious of everything that Erasmus had written, the divineswho drew up the _index expurgatorius_ of his work found only a fewpassages in the _Enchiridion_ to expunge. Moreover, Erasmus had insertedin the volume some writings of unsuspected Catholic tenor. For a longtime it was in great repute, especially with theologians and monks. Afamous preacher at Antwerp used to say that a sermon might be found inevery page of the _Enchiridion_. But the book only obtained its greatinfluence in wide cultured circles when, upheld by Erasmus's world-widereputation, it was available in a number of translations, English, Czech, German, Dutch, Spanish, and French. But then it began to fallunder suspicion, for that was the time when Luther had unchained thegreat struggle. 'Now they have begun to nibble at the _Enchiridion_also, that used to be so popular with divines, ' Erasmus writes in 1526. For the rest it was only two passages to which the orthodox criticsobjected. FOOTNOTES: [5] That this man should have been John of Trazegnies as Allen thinkspossible and Renaudet accepts, is still all too uncertain; A. 164 t. I. P. 373; Renaudet, Préréforme 428. [6] In 1500 (A. 123. 21) Erasmus speaks of the _Enchiridion_ of theFather Augustine, cf. 135, 138; in 1501, A. 152. 33, he calls the_Officia_ of Cicero a 'pugiunculus'--a dagger. So the appellation hadbeen in his mind for some time. [7] _Miles_ with Erasmus has no longer the meaning of 'knight' which ithad in medieval Latin. CHAPTER VII YEARS OF TROUBLE--LOUVAIN, PARIS, ENGLAND 1502-6 Death of Batt: 1502--First stay at Louvain: 1502-4--Translations from the Greek--At Paris again--Valla's _Annotationes_ on the New Testament--Second stay in England: 1505-6--More patrons and friends--Departure for Italy: 1506--_Carmen Alpestre_ Circumstances continued to remain unfavourable for Erasmus. 'This yearfortune has truly been raging violently against me, ' he writes in theautumn of 1502. In the spring his good friend Batt had died. It is apity that no letters written by Erasmus directly after his bereavementhave come down to us. We should be glad to have for that faithful helpera monument in addition to that which Erasmus erected to his memory inthe _Antibarbari_. Anna of Veere had remarried and, as a patroness, might henceforth be left out of account. In October 1502, Henry ofBergen passed away. 'I have commemorated the Bishop of Cambray in threeLatin epitaphs and a Greek one; they sent me but six guilders, that alsoin death he should remain true to himself. ' In Francis of Busleiden, Archbishop of Besançon, he lost at about the same time a prospective newpatron. He still felt shut out from Paris, Cologne and England by thedanger of the plague. In the late summer of 1502 he went to Louvain, 'flung thither by theplague, ' he says. The university of Louvain, established in 1425 to weanthe Netherlands in spiritual matters from Paris, was, at the beginningof the sixteenth century, one of the strongholds of theologicaltradition, which, however, did not prevent the progress of classicalstudies. How else should Adrian of Utrecht, later pope but at that timeDean of Saint Peter's and professor of theology, have forthwithundertaken to get him a professorship? Erasmus declined the offer, however, 'for certain reasons, ' he says. Considering his great distress, the reasons must have been cogent indeed. One of them which he mentionedis not very clear to us: 'I am here so near to Dutch tongues which knowhow to hurt much, it is true, but have not learned to profit any one'. His spirit of liberty and his ardent love of the studies to which hewanted to devote himself entirely, were, no doubt, his chief reasons fordeclining. But he had to make a living. Life at Louvain was expensive and he had noregular earnings. He wrote some prefaces and dedicated to the Bishop ofArras, Chancellor of the University, the first translation from theGreek: some _Declamationes_ by Libanius. When in the autumn of 1503Philip le Beau was expected back in the Netherlands from his journey toSpain Erasmus wrote, with sighs of distaste, a panegyric to celebratethe safe return of the prince. It cost him much trouble. 'It occupies meday and night, ' says the man who composed with such incredible facility, when his heart was in the work. 'What is harder than to write withaversion; what is more useless than to write something by which weunlearn good writing?' It must be acknowledged that he really flatteredas sparingly as possible; the practice was so repulsive to him that inhis preface he roundly owned that, to tell the truth, this whole classof composition was not to his taste. At the end of 1504 Erasmus was back at Paris, at last. Probably he hadalways meant to return and looked upon his stay at Louvain as atemporary exile. The circumstances under which he left Louvain areunknown to us, because of the almost total lack of letters of the year1504. In any case, he hoped that at Paris he would sooner be able toattain his great end of devoting himself entirely to the study oftheology. 'I cannot tell you, dear Colet, ' he writes towards the end of1504, 'how I hurry on, with all sails set, to holy literature; how Idislike everything that keeps me back, or retards me. But the disfavourof Fortune, who always looks at me with the same face, has been thereason why I have not been able to get clear of those vexations. So Ireturned to France with the purpose, if I cannot solve them, at any rateof ridding myself of them in one way or another. After that I shalldevote myself, with all my heart, to the _divinae literae_, to give upthe remainder of my life to them. ' If only he can find the means to workfor some months entirely for himself and disentangle himself fromprofane literature. Can Colet not find out for him how matters standwith regard to the proceeds of the hundred copies of the _Adagia_ which, at one time, he sent to England at his own expense? The liberty of a fewmonths may be bought for little money. There is something heroic in Erasmus scorning to make money out of hisfacile talents and enviable knowledge of the humanities, daringindigence so as to be able to realize his shining ideal of restoringtheology. It is remarkable that the same Italian humanist who in his youth hadbeen his guide and example on the road to pure Latinity and classicantiquity, Lorenzo Valla, by chance became his leader and an outpost inthe field of critical theology. In the summer of 1504, hunting in theold library of the Premonstratensian monastery of Parc, near Louvain('in no preserves is hunting a greater delight'), he found a manuscriptof Valla's _Annotationes_ on the New Testament. It was a collection ofcritical notes on the text of the Gospels, the Epistles and Revelation. That the text of the Vulgate was not stainless had been acknowledged byRome itself as early as the thirteenth century. Monastic orders andindividual divines had set themselves to correct it, but thatpurification had not amounted to much, in spite of Nicholas of Lyra'swork in the fourteenth century. It was probably the falling in with Valla's _Annotationes_ which ledErasmus, who was formerly more inspired with the resolution to editJerome and to comment upon Paul (he was to do both at a later date), toturn to the task of taking up the New Testament as a whole, in order torestore it in its purity. In March 1505 already Josse Badius at Parisprinted Valla's _Annotationes_ for Erasmus, as a sort of advertisementof what he himself one day hoped to achieve. It was a feat of courage. Erasmus did not conceal from himself that Valla, the humanist, had anill name with divines, and that there would be an outcry about 'theintolerable temerity of the _homo grammaticus_, who after havingharassed all the _disciplinae_, did not scruple to assail holyliterature with his petulant pen'. It was another programme much moreexplicit and defiant than the _Enchiridion_ had been. Once more it is not clear why and how Erasmus left Paris again forEngland in the autumn of 1505. He speaks of serious reasons and theadvice of sensible people. He mentions one reason: lack of money. Thereprint of the _Adagia_, published by John Philippi at Paris in 1505, had probably helped him through, for the time being; the edition cannothave been to his taste, for he had been dissatisfied with his work andwanted to extend it by weaving his new Greek knowledge into it. FromHolland a warning voice had sounded, the voice of his superior andfriend Servatius, demanding an account of his departure from Paris. Evidently his Dutch friends had still no confidence in Erasmus, hiswork, and his future. In many respects that future appeared more favourable to him in Englandthan it had seemed anywhere, thus far. There he found the old friends, men of consideration and importance: Mountjoy, with whom, on hisarrival, he stayed some months, Colet, and More. There he found someexcellent Greek scholars, whose conversation promised to be profitableand amusing; not Colet, who knew little Greek, but More, Linacre, Grocyn, Latimer, and Tunstall. He soon came in contact with some highecclesiastics who were to be his friends and patrons: Richard Foxe, Bishop of Winchester, John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester and WilliamWarham, Archbishop of Canterbury. Soon he would also find a friend whosecongenial spirit and interests, to some extent, made up for the loss ofBatt: the Italian Andrew Ammonius, of Lucca. And lastly, the kingpromised him an ecclesiastical benefice. It was not long before Erasmuswas armed with a dispensation from Pope Julius II, dated 4 January 1506, cancelling the obstacles in the way of accepting an English benefice. Translations from Greek into Latin were for him an easy and speedy meansto obtain favour and support: a dialogue by Lucian, followed by others, for Foxe; the _Hecuba_ and the _Iphigenia_ of Euripides for Warham. Henow also thought of publishing his letters. Clearly his relations with Holland were not yet satisfactory. Servatiusdid not reply to his letters. Erasmus ever felt hanging over him amenace to his career and his liberty embodied in the figure of thatfriend, to whom he was linked by so many silken ties, yonder in themonastery of Steyn, where his return was looked forward to, sooner orlater, as a beacon-light of Christendom. Did the prior know of the papaldispensation exempting Erasmus from the 'statutes and customs of themonastery of Steyn in Holland, of the order of Saint Augustine?'Probably he did. On 1 April 1506, Erasmus writes to him: 'Here in LondonI am, it seems, greatly esteemed by the most eminent and erudite men ofall England. The king has promised me a curacy: the visit of the princenecessitated a postponement of this business. '[8] He immediately adds: 'I am deliberating again how best to devote theremainder of my life (how much that will be, I do not know) entirely topiety, to Christ. I see life, even when it is long, as evanescent anddwindling; I know that I am of a delicate constitution and that mystrength has been encroached upon, not a little, by study and also, somewhat, by misfortune. I see that no deliverance can be hoped fromstudy, and that it seems as if we had to begin over again, day afterday. Therefore I have resolved, content with my mediocrity (especiallynow that I have learned as much Greek as suffices me), to apply myselfto meditation about death and the training of my soul. I should havedone so before and have husbanded the precious years when they were attheir best. But though it is a tardy husbandry that people practise whenonly little remains at the bottom, we should be the more economicalaccordingly as the quantity and quality of what is left diminishes. ' Was it a fit of melancholy which made Erasmus write those words ofrepentance and renunciation? Was he surprised in the middle of thepursuit of his life's aim by the consciousness of the vanity of hisendeavours, the consciousness, too, of a great fatigue? Is this thedeepest foundation of Erasmus's being, which he reveals for a moment tohis old and intimate friend? It may be doubted. The passage tallies veryill with the first sentences of the letter, which are altogetherconcerned with success and prospects. In a letter he wrote the next day, also to Gouda and to a trusted friend, there is no trace of the mood: heis again thinking of his future. We do not notice that the tremendouszeal with which he continues his studies is relaxed for a moment. Andthere are other indications that towards Servatius, who knew him betterthan he could wish, and who, moreover, as prior of Steyn, had athreatening power over him, he purposely demeaned himself as though hedespised the world. Meanwhile nothing came of the English prebend. But suddenly the occasionoffered to which Erasmus had so often looked forward: the journey toItaly. The court-physician of Henry VII, Giovanni Battista Boerio, ofGenoa, was looking for a master to accompany his sons in their journeyto the universities of Italy. Erasmus accepted the post, which chargedhim neither with the duties of tuition nor with attending to the youngfellows, but only with supervising and guiding their studies. In thebeginning of June 1506, he found himself on French soil once more. Fortwo summer months the party of travellers stayed at Paris and Erasmusavailed himself of the opportunity to have several of his works, whichhe had brought from England, printed at Paris. He was by now awell-known and favourite author, gladly welcomed by the old friends (hehad been reputed dead) and made much of. Josse Badius printed allErasmus offered him: the translations of Euripides and Lucian, acollection of _Epigrammata_, a new but still unaltered edition of the_Adagia_. In August the journey was continued. As he rode on horseback along theAlpine roads the most important poem Erasmus has written, the echo of anabandoned pursuit, originated. He had been vexed about his travellingcompany, had abstained from conversing with them, and sought consolationin composing poetry. The result was the ode which he called _Carmenequestre vel potius alpestre_, about the inconveniences of old age, dedicated to his friend William Cop. Erasmus was one of those who early feel old. He was not forty and yetfancied himself across the threshold of old age. How quickly it hadcome! He looks back on the course of his life: he sees himself playingwith nuts as a child, as a boy eager for study, as a youth engrossed inpoetry and scholasticism, also in painting. He surveys his enormouserudition, his study of Greek, his aspiration to scholarly fame. In themidst of all this, old age has suddenly come. What remains to him? Andagain we hear the note of renunciation of the world and of devotion toChrist. Farewell jests and trifles, farewell philosophy and poetry, apure heart full of Christ is all he desires henceforward. Here, in the stillness of the Alpine landscape, there arose somethingmore of Erasmus's deepest aspirations than in the lament to Servatius. But in this case, too, it is a stray element of his soul, not the strongimpulse that gave direction and fullness to his life and withirresistible pressure urged him on to ever new studies. FOOTNOTES: [8] A. 189, Philip le Beau, who had unexpectedly come to England becauseof a storm, which obliged Mountjoy to do court-service. CHAPTER VIII IN ITALY 1506-9 Erasmus in Italy: 1506-9--He takes his degree at Turin--Bologna and Pope Julius II--Erasmus in Venice with Aldus: 1507-8--The art of printing--Alexander Stewart--To Rome: 1509--News of Henry VIII's accession--Erasmus leaves Italy At Turin Erasmus received, directly upon his arrival, on 4 September1506, the degree of doctor of theology. That he did not attach muchvalue to the degree is easy to understand. He regarded it, however, asan official warrant of his competence as a writer on theologicalsubjects, which would strengthen his position when assailed by thesuspicion of his critics. He writes disdainfully about the title, evento his Dutch friends who in former days had helped him on in his studiesfor the express purpose of obtaining the doctor's degree. As early as1501, to Anna of Borselen he writes, 'Go to Italy and obtain thedoctor's degree? Foolish projects, both of them. But one should conformto the customs of the times. ' Again to Servatius and Johannes Obrecht, half apologetically, he says: 'I have obtained the doctor's degree intheology, and that quite contrary to my intention, only because I wasovercome by the prayers of friends. ' Bologna was now the destination of his journey. But when Erasmus arrivedthere, a war was in progress which forced him to retire to Florence fora time. Pope Julius II, allied with the French, at the head of an army, marched on Bologna to conquer it from the Bentivogli. This purpose wassoon attained, and Bologna was a safe place to return to. On 11 November1506, Erasmus witnessed the triumphal entry of the martial pope. Of these days nothing but short, hasty letters of his have come down tous. They speak of unrest and rumours of war. There is nothing to showthat he was impressed by the beauty of the Italy of the Renaissance. Thescanty correspondence dating from his stay in Italy mentions neitherarchitecture, nor sculpture, nor pictures. When much later he happenedto remember his visit to the Chartreuse of Pavia, it is only to give aninstance of useless waste and magnificence. Books alone seemed to occupyand attract Erasmus in Italy. At Bologna, Erasmus served as a mentor to the young Boerios to the endof the year for which he had bound himself. It seemed a very long timeto him. He could not stand any encroachment upon his liberty. He feltcaught in the contract as in a net. The boys, it seems, were intelligentenough, if not so brilliant as Erasmus had seen them in his first joy;but with their private tutor Clyfton, whom he at first extolled to thesky, he was soon at loggerheads. At Bologna he experienced manyvexations for which his new relations with Paul Bombasius could only inpart indemnify him. He worked there at an enlarged edition of his_Adagia_, which now, by the addition of the Greek ones, increased fromeight hundred to some thousands of items. [Illustration: VII. Title-page of the _Adagia_, printed by AldusManutius in 1508] [Illustration: VIII. VIEW OF VENICE, 1493] [Illustration: IX. PORTRAIT MEDAL OF ALDUS MANUTIUS. On the reverse theAldine emblem] [Illustration: X. A page from the _Praise of Folly_ with a drawing byHolbein of Erasmus at his desk. ] From Bologna, in October 1507, Erasmus addressed a letter to the famousVenetian printer, Aldus Manutius, in which he requested him to publish, anew, the two translated dramas of Euripides, as the edition of Badiuswas out of print and too defective for his taste. What made Aldusattractive in his eyes was, no doubt, besides the fame of the business, though it was languishing at the time, the printer's beautifultype--'those most magnificent letters, especially those very smallones'. Erasmus was one of those true book-lovers who pledge their heartto a type or a size of a book, not because of any artistic preference, but because of readableness and handiness, which to them are of the verygreatest importance. What he asked of Aldus was a small book at a lowprice. Towards the end of the year their relations had gone so far thatErasmus gave up his projected journey to Rome, for the time, to removeto Venice, there personally to superintend the publication of his works. Now there was no longer merely the question of a little book oftranslations, but Aldus had declared himself willing to print theenormously increased collection of the _Adagia_. Beatus Rhenanus tells a story which, no doubt, he had heard from Erasmushimself: how Erasmus on his arrival at Venice had gone straight to theprinting-office and was kept waiting there for a long time. Aldus wascorrecting proofs and thought his visitor was one of those inquisitivepeople by whom he used to be pestered. When he turned out to be Erasmus, he welcomed him cordially and procured him board and lodging in thehouse of his father-in-law, Andrea Asolani. Fully eight months didErasmus live there, in the environment which, in future, was to be histrue element: the printing-office. He was in a fever of hurried work, about which he would often sigh, but which, after all, was congenial tohim. The augmented collection of the _Adagia_ had not yet been madeready for the press at Bologna. 'With great temerity on my part, 'Erasmus himself testifies, 'we began to work at the same time, I towrite, Aldus to print. ' Meanwhile the literary friends of the NewAcademy whom he got to know at Venice, Johannes Lascaris, BaptistaEgnatius, Marcus Musurus and the young Jerome Aleander, with whom, atAsolani's, he shared room and bed, brought him new Greek authors, unprinted as yet, furnishing fresh material for augmenting the _Adagia_. These were no inconsiderable additions: Plato in the original, Plutarch's _Lives_ and _Moralia_, Pindar, Pausanias, and others. Evenpeople whom he did not know and who took an interest in his work, brought new material to him. Amid the noise of the press-room, Erasmus, to the surprise of his publisher, sat and wrote, usually from memory, sobusily occupied that, as he picturesquely expressed it, he had no timeto scratch his ears. He was lord and master of the printing-office. Aspecial corrector had been assigned to him; he made his textual changesin the last impression. Aldus also read the proofs. 'Why?' askedErasmus. 'Because I am studying at the same time, ' was the reply. Meanwhile Erasmus suffered from the first attack of his tormentingnephrolithic malady; he ascribed it to the food he got at Asolani's andlater took revenge by painting that boarding-house and its landlord invery spiteful colours in the _Colloquies_. When in September 1508, the edition of the _Adagia_ was ready, Alduswanted Erasmus to remain in order to write more for him. Till Decemberhe continued to work at Venice on editions of Plautus, Terence, andSeneca's tragedies. Visions of joint labour to publish all that classicantiquity still held in the way of hidden treasures, together withHebrew and Chaldean stores, floated before his mind. Erasmus belonged to the generation which had grown up together with theyouthful art of printing. To the world of those days it was still like anewly acquired organ; people felt rich, powerful, happy in thepossession of this 'almost divine implement'. The figure of Erasmus andhis _[oe]uvre_ were only rendered possible by the art of printing. Hewas its glorious triumph and, equally, in a sense, its victim. Whatwould Erasmus have been without the printing-press? To broadcast theancient documents, to purify and restore them was his life's passion. The certainty that the printed book places exactly the same text in thehands of thousands of readers, was to him a consolation that formergenerations had lacked. Erasmus is one of the first who, after his name as an author wasestablished, worked directly and continually for the press. It was hisstrength, but also his weakness. It enabled him to exercise an immediateinfluence on the reading public of Europe such as had emanated from nonebefore him; to become a focus of culture in the full sense of the word, an intellectual central station, a touchstone of the spirit of the time. Imagine for a moment what it would have meant if a still greater mindthan his, say Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa, that universal spirit who hadhelped in nursing the art of printing in its earliest infancy, couldhave availed himself of the art as it was placed at the disposal ofErasmus! The dangerous aspect of this situation was that printing enabledErasmus, having once become a centre and an authority, to address theworld at large immediately about all that occurred to him. Much of hislater mental labour is, after all, really but repetition, ruminatingdigression, unnecessary vindication from assaults to which his greatnessalone would have been a sufficient answer, futilities which he mighthave better left alone. Much of this work written directly for the pressis journalism at bottom, and we do Erasmus an injustice by applying toit the tests of lasting excellence. The consciousness that we can reachthe whole world at once with our writings is a stimulant whichunwittingly influences our mode of expression, a luxury that only thehighest spirits can bear with impunity. The link between Erasmus and book-printing was Latin. Without hisincomparable Latinity his position as an author would have beenimpossible. The art of printing undoubtedly furthered the use of Latin. It was the Latin publications which in those days promised success and alarge sale for a publisher, and established his reputation, for theywere broadcast all over the world. The leading publishers werethemselves scholars filled with enthusiasm for humanism. Cultured andwell-to-do people acted as proof-readers to printers; such as PeterGilles, the friend of Erasmus and More, the town clerk of Antwerp, whocorrected proof-sheets for Dirck Maertensz. The great printing-officeswere, in a local sense, too, the foci of intellectual intercourse. Thefact that England had lagged behind, thus far, in the evolution of theart of printing, contributed not a little, no doubt, to prevent Erasmusfrom settling there, where so many ties held and so many advantagesallured him. To find a permanent place of residence was, indeed, and apart from thisfact, very hard for him. Towards the end of 1508 he accepted the post oftutor in rhetorics to the young Alexander Stewart, a natural son ofJames IV of Scotland, and already, in spite of his youth, Archbishop ofSaint Andrews, now a student at Padua. The danger of war soon drove themfrom upper Italy to Siena. Here Erasmus obtained leave to visit Rome. Hearrived there early in 1509, no longer an unknown canon from thenorthern regions but a celebrated and honoured author. All the charms ofthe Eternal City lay open to him and he must have felt keenly gratifiedby the consideration and courtesy with which cardinals and prelates, such as Giovanni de' Medici, afterwards Leo X, Domenico Grimani, Riarioand others, treated him. It seems that he was even offered some post inthe curia. But he had to return to his youthful archbishop with whom hethereupon visited Rome again, incognito, and afterwards travelled in theneighbourhood of Naples. He inspected the cave of the Sibylla of Cumae, but what it meant to him we do not know. This entire period followinghis departure from Padua and all that follows till the spring of1511--in certain respects the most important part of his life--remainsunrecorded in a single letter that has come down to us. Here and therehe has occasionally, and at a much later date, touched upon someimpressions of Rome, [9] but the whole remains vague and dim. It is theincubation period of the _Praise of Folly_ that is thus obscured fromview. On 21 April 1509, King Henry VII of England died. His successor was theyoung prince whom Erasmus had saluted at Eltham in 1499, to whom he haddedicated his poem in praise of Great Britain, and who, during his stayat Bologna, had distinguished him by a Latin letter as creditable toErasmus as to the fifteen-year-old royal latinist. [10] If ever thechance of obtaining a patron seemed favourable, it was now, when thispromising lover of letters ascended the throne as Henry VIII. LordMountjoy, Erasmus's most faithful Maecenas, thought so, too, and pointedout the fact to him in a letter of 27 May 1509. It was a pleasure tosee, he wrote, how vigorous, how upright and just, how zealous in thecause of literature and men of letters was the conduct of the youthfulprince. Mountjoy--or Ammonius, who probably drew up the flowery documentfor him--was exultant. A laughing sky and tears of joy are the themes ofthe letter. Evidently, however, Erasmus himself had, on his side, already sounded Mountjoy as to his chances, as soon as the tidings ofHenry VII's death became known at Rome; not without lamentations aboutcares and weakened health. 'The Archbishop of Canterbury', Mountjoy wasable to apprise Erasmus, 'is not only continually engrossed in your_Adagia_ and praises you to the skies, but he also promises you abenefice on your return and sends you five pounds for travellingexpenses, ' which sum was doubled by Mountjoy. We do not know whether Erasmus really hesitated before he reached hisdecision. Cardinal Grimani, he asserts, tried to hold him back, but invain, for in July, 1509, he left Rome and Italy, never to return. As he crossed the Alps for the second time, not on the French side now, but across the Splügen, through Switzerland, his genius touched himagain, as had happened in those high regions three years before on theroad to Italy. But this time it was not in the guise of the Latin Muse, who then drew from him such artful and pathetic poetical meditationsabout his past life and pious vows for the future;--it was somethingmuch more subtle and grand: the _Praise of Folly_. FOOTNOTES: [9] LBE. No. 1175 _c. _ 1375, visit to Grimani. [10] A. 206, where from Allen's introduction one can form an opinionabout the prince's share in the composition. CHAPTER IX THE PRAISE OF FOLLY _Moriae Encomium, The Praise of Folly_: 1509, as a work of art--Folly, the motor of all life: Indispensable, salutary, cause and support of states and of heroism--Folly keeps the world going--Vital energy incorporated with folly--Lack of folly makes unfit for life--Need of self-complacency--Humbug beats truth--Knowledge a plague--Satire of all secular and ecclesiastical vocations--Two themes throughout the work--The highest folly: Ecstasy--The _Moria_ to be taken as a gay jest--Confusion of fools and lunatics--Erasmus treats his _Moria_ slightingly--Its value While he rode over the mountain passes, [11] Erasmus's restless spirit, now unfettered for some days by set tasks, occupied itself witheverything he had studied and read in the last few years, and witheverything he had seen. What ambition, what self-deception, what prideand conceit filled the world! He thought of Thomas More, whom he was nowto see again--that most witty and wise of all his friends, with thatcurious name _Moros_, the Greek word for a fool, which so ill became hispersonality. Anticipating the gay jests which More's conversationpromised, there grew in his mind that masterpiece of humour and wiseirony, _Moriae Encomium_, the _Praise of Folly_. The world as the sceneof universal folly; folly as the indispensable element making life andsociety possible and all this put into the mouth of Stultitia--Folly--itself (true antitype of Minerva), who in a panegyric on her own powerand usefulness, praises herself. As to form it is a _Declamatio_, suchas he had translated from the Greek of Libanius. As to the spirit, arevival of Lucian, whose _Gallus_, translated by him three years before, may have suggested the theme. It must have been in the incomparablylucid moments of that brilliant intellect. All the particulars ofclassic reading which the year before he worked up in the new edition ofthe _Adagia_ were still at his immediate disposal in that retentive andcapacious memory. Reflecting at his ease on all that wisdom of theancients, he secreted the juices required for his expostulation. He arrived in London, took up his abode in More's house in Bucklersbury, and there, tortured by nephritic pains, he wrote down in a few days, without having his books with him, the perfect work of art that musthave been ready in his mind. Stultitia was truly born in the manner ofher serious sister Pallas. As to form and imagery the _Moria_ is faultless, the product of theinspired moments of creative impulse. The figure of an oratorconfronting her public is sustained to the last in a masterly way. Wesee the faces of the auditors light up with glee when Folly appears inthe pulpit; we hear the applause interrupting her words. There is awealth of fancy, coupled with so much soberness of line and colour, suchreserve, that the whole presents a perfect instance of that harmonywhich is the essence of Renaissance expression. There is no exuberance, in spite of the multiplicity of matter and thought, but a temperateness, a smoothness, an airiness and clearness which are as gladdening as theyare relaxing. In order perfectly to realize the artistic perfection ofErasmus's book we should compare it with Rabelais. 'Without me', says Folly, 'the world cannot exist for a moment. For isnot all that is done at all among mortals, full of folly; is it notperformed by fools and for fools?' 'No society, no cohabitation can bepleasant or lasting without folly; so much so, that a people could notstand its prince, nor the master his man, nor the maid her mistress, northe tutor his pupil, nor the friend his friend, nor the wife her husbandfor a moment longer, if they did not now and then err together, nowflatter each other; now sensibly conniving at things, now smearingthemselves with some honey of folly. ' In that sentence the summary ofthe _Laus_ is contained. Folly here is worldly wisdom, resignation andlenient judgement. He who pulls off the masks in the comedy of life is ejected. What is thewhole life of mortals but a sort of play in which each actor appears onthe boards in his specific mask and acts his part till the stage-managercalls him off? He acts wrongly who does not adapt himself to existingconditions, and demands that the game shall be a game no longer. It isthe part of the truly sensible to mix with all people, either connivingreadily at their folly, or affably erring like themselves. And the necessary driving power of all human action is 'Philautia', Folly's own sister: self-love. He who does not please himself effectslittle. Take away that condiment of life and the word of the oratorcools, the poet is laughed at, the artist perishes with his art. Folly in the garb of pride, of vanity, of vainglory, is the hiddenspring of all that is considered high and great in this world. The statewith its posts of honour, patriotism and national pride; the statelinessof ceremonies, the delusion of caste and nobility--what is it but folly?War, the most foolish thing of all, is the origin of all heroism. Whatprompted the Deciuses, what Curtius, to sacrifice themselves? Vainglory. It is this folly which produces states; through her, empires, religion, law-courts, exist. This is bolder and more chilling than Machiavelli, more detached thanMontaigne. But Erasmus will not have it credited to him: it is Folly whospeaks. He purposely makes us tread the round of the _circulusvitiosus_, as in the old saw: A Cretan said, all Cretans are liars. Wisdom is to folly as reason is to passion. And there is much morepassion than reason in the world. That which keeps the world going, thefount of life, is folly. For what else is love? Why do people marry, ifnot out of folly, which sees no objections? All enjoyment and amusementis only a condiment of folly. When a wise man wishes to become a father, he has first to play the fool. For what is more foolish than the game ofprocreation? Unperceived the orator has incorporated here with folly all that isvitality and the courage of life. Folly is spontaneous energy that noone can do without. He who is perfectly sensible and serious cannotlive. The more people get away from me, Stultitia, the less they live. Why do we kiss and cuddle little children, if not because they are stillso delightfully foolish. And what else makes youth so elegant? Now look at the truly serious and sensible. They are awkward ateverything, at meal-time, at a dance, in playing, in social intercourse. If they have to buy, or to contract, things are sure to go wrong. Quintilian says that stage fright bespeaks the intelligent orator, whoknows his faults. Right! But does not, then, Quintilian confess openlythat wisdom is an impediment to good execution? And has not Stultitiathe right to claim prudence for herself, if the wise, out of shame, outof bashfulness, undertake nothing in circumstances where fools pluckilyset to work? Here Erasmus goes to the root of the matter in a psychological sense. Indeed the consciousness of falling short in achievement is the brakeclogging action, is the great inertia retarding the progress of theworld. Did he know himself for one who is awkward when not bending overhis books, but confronting men and affairs? Folly is gaiety and lightheartedness, indispensable to happiness. Theman of mere reason without passion is a stone image, blunt and withoutany human feeling, a spectre or monster, from whom all fly, deaf to allnatural emotions, susceptible neither to love nor compassion. Nothingescapes him, in nothing he errs; he sees through everything, he weighseverything accurately, he forgives nothing, he is only satisfied withhimself; he alone is healthy; he alone is king, he alone is free. It isthe hideous figure of the doctrinaire which Erasmus is thinking of. Which state, he exclaims, would desire such an absolutely wise man for amagistrate? He who devotes himself to tasting all the bitterness of life with wiseinsight would forthwith deprive himself of life. Only folly is a remedy:to err, to be mistaken, to be ignorant is to be human. How much betterit is in marriage to be blind to a wife's shortcomings than to make awaywith oneself out of jealousy and to fill the world with tragedy!Adulation is virtue. There is no cordial devotion without a littleadulation. It is the soul of eloquence, of medicine and poetry; it isthe honey and the sweetness of all human customs. Again a series of valuable social qualities is slyly incorporated withfolly: benevolence, kindness, inclination to approve and to admire. But especially to approve of oneself. There is no pleasing otherswithout beginning by flattering ourselves a little and approving ofourselves. What would the world be if everyone was not proud of hisstanding, his calling, so that no person would change places withanother in point of good appearance, of fancy, of good family, of landedproperty? Humbug is the right thing. Why should any one desire true erudition? Themore incompetent a man, the pleasanter his life is and the more he isadmired. Look at professors, poets, orators. Man's mind is so made thathe is more impressed by lies than by the truth. Go to church: if thepriest deals with serious subjects the whole congregation is dozing, yawning, feeling bored. But when he begins to tell some cock-and-bullstory, they awake, sit up, and hang on his lips. To be deceived, philosophers say, is a misfortune, but not to bedeceived is a superlative misfortune. If it is human to err, why shoulda man be called unhappy because he errs, since he was so born and made, and it is the fate of all? Do we pity a man because he cannot fly ordoes not walk on four legs? We might as well call the horse unhappybecause it does not learn grammar or eat cakes. No creature is unhappy, if it lives according to its nature. The sciences were invented to ourutmost destruction; far from conducing to our happiness, they are evenin its way, though for its sake they are supposed to have been invented. By the agency of evil demons they have stolen into human life with theother pests. For did not the simple-minded people of the Golden Age livehappily, unprovided with any science, only led by nature and instinct?What did they want grammar for, when all spoke the same language? Whyhave dialectics, when there were no quarrels and no differences ofopinion? Why jurisprudence, when there were no bad morals from whichgood laws sprang? They were too religious to investigate with impiouscuriosity the secrets of nature, the size, motions, influence of thestars, the hidden cause of things. It is the old idea, which germinated in antiquity, here lightly touchedupon by Erasmus, afterwards proclaimed by Rousseau in bitter earnest:civilization is a plague. Wisdom is misfortune, but self-conceit is happiness. Grammarians, whowield the sceptre of wisdom--schoolmasters, that is--would be the mostwretched of all people if I, Folly, did not mitigate the discomforts oftheir miserable calling by a sort of sweet frenzy. But what holds goodof schoolmasters, also holds good of poets, orators, authors. For them, too, all happiness merely consists in vanity and delusion. The lawyersare no better off and after them come the philosophers. Next there is anumerous procession of clergy: divines, monks, bishops, cardinals, popes, only interrupted by princes and courtiers. In the chapters[12] which review these offices and callings, satire hasshifted its ground a little. Throughout the work two themes areintertwined: that of salutary folly, which is true wisdom, and that ofdeluded wisdom, which is pure folly. As they are both put into the mouthof Folly, we should have to invert them both to get truth, if Folly ... Were not wisdom. Now it is clear that the first is the principal theme. Erasmus starts from it; and he returns to it. Only in the middle, as hereviews human accomplishments and dignities in their universalfoolishness, the second theme predominates and the book becomes anordinary satire on human folly, of which there are many though few areso delicate. But in the other parts it is something far deeper. Occasionally the satire runs somewhat off the line, when Stultitiadirectly censures what Erasmus wishes to censure; for instance, indulgences, silly belief in wonders, selfish worship of the saints; orgamblers whom she, Folly, ought to praise; or the spirit ofsystematizing and levelling, and the jealousy of the monks. For contemporary readers the importance of the _Laus Stultitiae_ was, toa great extent, in the direct satire. Its lasting value is in thosepassages where we truly grant that folly is wisdom and the reverse. Erasmus knows the aloofness of the ground of all things: all consistentthinking out of the dogmas of faith leads to absurdity. Only look at thetheological quiddities of effete scholasticism. The apostles would nothave understood them: in the eyes of latter-day divines they would havebeen fools. Holy Scripture itself sides with folly. 'The foolishness ofGod is wiser than men, ' says Saint Paul. 'But God hath chosen thefoolish things of the world. ' 'It pleased God by the foolishness (ofpreaching) to save them that believe. ' Christ loved the simple-mindedand the ignorant: children, women, poor fishermen, nay, even suchanimals as are farthest removed from vulpine cunning: the ass which hewished to ride, the dove, the lamb, the sheep. Here there is a great deal behind the seemingly light jest: 'Christianreligion seems in general to have some affinity with a certain sort offolly'. Was it not thought the apostles were full of new wine? And didnot the judge say: 'Paul, thou art beside thyself'? When are we besideourselves? When the spirit breaks its fetters and tries to escape fromits prison and aspires to liberty. That is madness, but it is alsoother-worldliness and the highest wisdom. True happiness is inselflessness, in the furore of lovers, whom Plato calls happiest of all. The more absolute love is, the greater and more rapturous is the frenzy. Heavenly bliss itself is the greatest insanity; truly pious people enjoyits shadow on earth already in their meditations. Here Stultitia breaks off her discourse, apologizing in a few words incase she may have been too petulant or talkative, and leaves the pulpit. 'So farewell, applaud, live happily, and drink, Moria's illustriousinitiates. ' It was an unrivalled feat of art even in these last chapters neither tolose the light comical touch, nor to lapse into undisguised profanation. It was only feasible by veritable dancing on the tight-rope ofsophistry. In the _Moria_ Erasmus is all the time hovering on the brinkof profound truths. But what a boon it was--still granted to thosetimes--to be able to treat of all this in a vein of pleasantry. For thisshould be impressed upon our minds: that the _Moriae Encomium_ is atrue, gay jest. The laugh is more delicate, but no less hearty thanRabelais's. 'Valete, plaudite, vivite, bibite. ' 'All common peopleabound to such a degree, and everywhere, in so many forms of folly thata thousand Democrituses would be insufficient to laugh at them all (andthey would require another Democritus to laugh at them). ' How could one take the _Moria_ too seriously, when even More's _Utopia_, which is a true companion-piece to it and makes such a grave impressionon us, is treated by its author and Erasmus as a mere jest? There is aplace where the _Laus_ seems to touch both More and Rabelais; the placewhere Stultitia speaks of her father, Plutus, the god of wealth, atwhose beck all things are turned topsy-turvy, according to whose willall human affairs are regulated--war and peace, government and counsel, justice and treaties. He has begotten her on the nymph Youth, not asenile, purblind Plutus, but a fresh god, warm with youth and nectar, like another Gargantua. The figure of Folly, of gigantic size, looms large in the period of theRenaissance. She wears a fool's cap and bells. People laughed loudly andwith unconcern at all that was foolish, without discriminating betweenspecies of folly. It is remarkable that even in the _Laus_, delicate asit is, the author does not distinguish between the unwise or the silly, between fools and lunatics. Holbein, illustrating Erasmus, knows but ofone representation of a fool: with a staff and ass's ears. Erasmusspeaks without clear transition, now of foolish persons and now of reallunatics. They are happiest of all, he makes Stultitia say: they are notfrightened by spectres and apparitions; they are not tortured by thefear of impending calamities; everywhere they bring mirth, jests, frolicand laughter. Evidently he here means harmless imbeciles, who, indeed, were often used as jesters. This identification of denseness andinsanity is kept up, however, like the confusion of the comic and thesimply ridiculous, and all this is well calculated to make us feel howwide the gap has already become that separates us from Erasmus. * * * * * In later years he always spoke slightingly of his _Moria_. He consideredit so unimportant, he says, as to be unworthy of publication, yet nowork of his had been received with such applause. It was a trifle andnot at all in keeping with his character. More had made him write it, asif a camel were made to dance. But these disparaging utterances were notwithout a secondary purpose. The _Moria_ had not brought him onlysuccess and pleasure. The exceedingly susceptible age in which he livedhad taken the satire in very bad part, where it seemed to glance atoffices and orders, although in his preface he had tried to safeguardhimself from the reproach of irreverence. His airy play with the textsof Holy Scripture had been too venturesome for many. His friend Martinvan Dorp upbraided him with having made a mock of eternal life. Erasmusdid what he could to convince evil-thinkers that the purpose of the_Moria_ was no other than to exhort people to be virtuous. In affirmingthis he did his work injustice: it was much more than that. But in 1515he was no longer what he had been in 1509. Repeatedly he had beenobliged to defend his most witty work. Had he known that it wouldoffend, he might have kept it back, he writes in 1517 to an acquaintanceat Louvain. Even towards the end of his life, he warded off theinsinuations of Alberto Pio of Carpi in a lengthy expostulation. Erasmus made no further ventures in the genre of the _Praise of Folly_. One might consider the treatise _Lingua_, which he published in 1525, asan attempt to make a companion-piece to the _Moria_. The book is called_Of the Use and Abuse of the Tongue_. In the opening pages there issomething that reminds us of the style of the _Laus_, but it lacks allthe charm both of form and of thought. Should one pity Erasmus because, of all his publications, collected inten folio volumes, only the _Praise of Folly_ has remained a reallypopular book? It is, apart from the _Colloquies_, perhaps the only oneof his works that is still read for its own sake. The rest is now onlystudied from a historical point of view, for the sake of becomingacquainted with his person or his times. It seems to me that perfectjustice has been done in this case. The _Praise of Folly_ is his bestwork. He wrote other books, more erudite, some more pious--some perhapsof equal or greater influence on his time. But each has had its day. _Moriae Encomium_ alone was to be immortal. For only when humourilluminated that mind did it become truly profound. In the _Praise ofFolly_ Erasmus gave something that no one else could have given to theworld. [Illustration: XI. The last page of the _Praise of Folly_, withHolbein's drawing of Folly descending from the pulpit] [Illustration: XII. THE PRINTING PRESS OF JOSSE BADIUS] FOOTNOTES: [11] That he conceived the work in the Alps follows from the fact thathe tells us explicitly that it happened while riding, whereas, afterpassing through Switzerland, he travelled by boat. A. 1, IV 216. 62. [12] Erasmus did not divide the book into chapters. It was done by aneditor as late as 1765. CHAPTER X THIRD STAY IN ENGLAND 1509-14 Third stay in England: 1509-14--No information about two years of Erasmus's life: 1509 summer, till 1511 spring--Poverty-- Erasmus at Cambridge--Relations with Badius, the Paris publisher--A mistake profitable to Johannes Froben at Basle-- Erasmus leaves England: 1514--_Julius Exclusus_--Epistle against war From the moment when Erasmus, back from Italy in the early summer of1509, is hidden from view in the house of More, to write the _Praise ofFolly_, until nearly two years later when he comes to view again on theroad to Paris to have the book printed by Gilles Gourmont, every traceof his life has been obliterated. Of the letters which during thatperiod he wrote and received, not a single one has been preserved. Perhaps it was the happiest time of his life, for it was partly spentwith his tried patron, Mountjoy, and also in the house of More in thatnoble and witty circle which to Erasmus appeared ideal. That house wasalso frequented by the friend whom Erasmus had made during his formersojourn in England, and whose mind was perhaps more congenial to himthan any other, Andrew Ammonius. It is not improbable that during thesemonths he was able to work without interruption at the studies to whichhe was irresistibly attracted, without cares as to the immediate future, and not yet burdened by excessive renown, which afterwards was to causehim as much trouble and loss as joy. That future was still uncertain. As soon as he no longer enjoys More'shospitality, the difficulties and complaints recommence. Continualpoverty, uncertainty and dependence were extraordinarily galling to amind requiring above all things liberty. At Paris he charged Badius witha new, revised edition of the _Adagia_, though the Aldine might still behad there at a moderate price. The _Laus_, which had just appeared atGourmont's, was reprinted at Strassburg as early as 1511, with acourteous letter by Jacob Wimpfeling to Erasmus, but evidently withouthis being consulted in the matter. By that time he was back in England, had been laid up in London with a bad attack of the sweating sickness, and thence had gone to Queens' College, Cambridge, where he had residedbefore. From Cambridge he writes to Colet, 24 August 1511, in a vein ofcomical despair. The journey from London had been disastrous: a lamehorse, no victuals for the road, rain and thunder. 'But I am almostpleased at this, I see the track of Christian poverty. ' A chance to makesome money he does not see; he will be obliged to spend everything hecan wrest from his Maecenases--he, born under a wrathful Mercury. This may sound somewhat gloomier than it was meant, but a few weekslater he writes again: 'Oh, this begging; you laugh at me, I know. But Ihate myself for it and am fully determined, either to obtain somefortune, which will relieve me from cringing, or to imitate Diogenesaltogether. ' This refers to a dedication of a translation of Basilius'sCommentaries on Isaiah to John Fisher, the Bishop of Rochester. Colet, who had never known pecuniary cares himself, did not wellunderstand these sallies of Erasmus. He replies to them with delicateirony and covert rebuke, which Erasmus, in his turn, pretends not tounderstand. He was now 'in want in the midst of plenty', _simul et inmedia copia et in summa inopia_. That is to say, he was engaged inpreparing for Badius's press the _De copia verborum ac rerum_, formerlybegun at Paris; it was dedicated to Colet. 'I ask you, who can be moreimpudent or abject than I, who for such a long time already have beenopenly begging in England?' Writing to Ammonius he bitterly regrets having left Rome and Italy; howprosperity had smiled upon him there! In the same way he wouldafterwards lament that he had not permanently established himself inEngland. If he had only embraced the opportunity! he thinks. Was notErasmus rather one of those people whom good fortune cannot help? Heremained in trouble and his tone grows more bitter. 'I am preparing somebait against the 1st of January, though it is pretty sure to be invain, ' he writes to Ammonius, referring to new translations of Lucianand Plutarch. At Cambridge Erasmus lectured on divinity and Greek, but it brought himlittle success and still less profit. The long-wished-for prebend, indeed, had at last been given him, in the form of the rectory ofAldington, in Kent, to which Archbishop William Warham, his patron, appointed him in 1512. Instead of residing he was allowed to draw apension of twenty pounds a year. The archbishop affirms explicitly that, contrary to his custom, he had granted this favour to Erasmus, becausehe, 'a light of learning in Latin and Greek literature, had, out of lovefor England, disdained to live in Italy, France, or Germany, in order topass the rest of his life here, with his friends'. We see how nationsalready begin to vie with each other for the honour of shelteringErasmus. Relief from all cares the post did not bring. Intercourse andcorrespondence with Colet was a little soured under the light veil ofjests and kindness by his constant need of money. Seeking new resourcesby undertaking new labours, or preparing new editions of his old books, remained a hard necessity for Erasmus. The great works upon which he hadset his heart, and to which he had given all his energies at Cambridge, held out no promise of immediate profit. His serious theological laboursranked above all others; and in these hard years, he devoted his beststrength to preparation for the great edition of Jerome's works andemendation of the text of the New Testament, a task inspired, encouragedand promoted by Colet. For his living other books had to serve. He had a sufficient number now, and the printers were eager enough about them, though the profit whichthe author made by them was not large. After leaving Aldus at Venice, Erasmus had returned to the publisher who had printed for him as earlyas 1505--Josse Badius, of Brabant, who, at Paris, had established theAscensian Press (called after his native place, Assche) and who, ascholar himself, rivalled Aldus in point of the accuracy of his editionsof the classics. At the time when Erasmus took the _Moria_ to Gourmont, at Paris, he had charged Badius with a new edition, still to be revised, of the _Adagia_. Why the _Moria_ was published by another, we cannottell; perhaps Badius did not like it at first. From the _Adagia_ hepromised himself the more profit, but that was a long work, thealterations and preface of which he was still waiting for Erasmus tosend. He felt very sure of his ground, for everyone knew that he, Badius, was preparing the new edition. Yet a rumour reached him that inGermany the Aldine edition was being reprinted. So there was some hurryto finish it, he wrote to Erasmus in May 1512. Badius, meanwhile, had much more work of Erasmus in hand, or onapproval: the _Copia_, which, shortly afterwards, was published by him;the _Moria_, of which, at the same time, a new edition, the fifth, already had appeared; the dialogues by Lucian; the Euripides and Senecatranslations, which were to follow. He hoped to add Jerome's letters tothese. For the _Adagia_ they had agreed upon a copy-fee of fifteenguilders; for Jerome's letters Badius was willing to give the same sumand as much again for the rest of the consignment. 'Ah, you will say, what a very small sum! I own that by no remuneration could your genius, industry, knowledge and labour be requited, but the gods will requiteyou and your own virtue will be the finest reward. You have alreadydeserved exceedingly well of Greek and Roman literature; you will inthis same way deserve well of sacred and divine, and you will help yourlittle Badius, who has a numerous family and no earnings besides hisdaily trade. ' Erasmus must have smiled ruefully on receiving Badius's letter. But heaccepted the proposal readily. He promised to prepare everything for thepress and, on 5 January 1513, he finished, in London, the preface to therevised _Adagia_, for which Badius was waiting. But then somethinghappened. An agent who acted as a mediator with authors for severalpublishers in Germany and France, one Francis Berckman, of Cologne, tookthe revised copy of the _Adagia_ with the preface entrusted to him byErasmus to hand over to Badius, not to Paris, but to Basle, to JohannesFroben, who had just, without Erasmus's leave, reprinted the Venetianedition! Erasmus pretended to be indignant at this mistake or perfidy, but it is only too clear that he did not regret it. Six months later hebetook himself with bag and baggage to Basle, to enter with that sameFroben into those most cordial relations by which their names areunited. Beatus Rhenanus, afterwards, made no secret of the fact that aconnection with the house of Froben, then still called Amerbach andFroben, had seemed attractive to Erasmus ever since he had heard of the_Adagia_ being reprinted. Without conclusive proofs of his complicity, we do not like to accuseErasmus of perfidy towards Badius, though his attitude is curious, tosay the least. But we do want to commemorate the dignified tone in whichBadius, who held strict notions, as those times went, about copyright, replied, when Berckman afterwards had come to offer him a sort ofexplanation of the case. He declares himself satisfied, though Erasmushad, since that time, caused him losses in more ways, amongst others byprinting a new edition of the _Copia_ at Strassburg. 'If, however, it isagreeable to your interests and honour, I shall suffer it, and that withequanimity. ' Their relations were not broken off. In all this we shouldnot lose sight of the fact that publishing at that time was yet a quitenew commercial phenomenon and that new commercial forms and relations oftrade are wont to be characterized by uncertainty, confusion and lack ofestablished business morals. The stay at Cambridge gradually became irksome to Erasmus. 'For somemonths already', he writes to Ammonius in November 1513, 'we have beenleading a true snail's life, staying at home and plodding. It is verylonely here; most people have gone for fear of the plague, but even whenthey are all here, it is lonely. ' The cost of sustenance is unbearableand he makes no money at all. If he does not succeed, that winter, inmaking a nest for himself, he is resolved to fly away, he does not knowwhere. 'If to no other end, to die elsewhere. ' Added to the stress of circumstances, the plague, reappearing again andagain, and attacks of his kidney-trouble, there came the state of war, which depressed and alarmed Erasmus. In the spring of 1513 the Englishraid on France, long prepared, took place. In co-operation withMaximilian's army the English had beaten the French near Guinegate andcompelled Therouanne to surrender, and afterwards Tournay. Meanwhile theScotch invaded England, to be decisively beaten near Flodden. Theirking, James IV, perished together with his natural son, Erasmus's pupiland travelling companion in Italy, Alexander, Archbishop of SaintAndrews. Crowned with martial fame, Henry VIII returned in November to meet hisparliament. Erasmus did not share the universal joy and enthusiasticadmiration. 'We are circumscribed here by the plague, threatened byrobbers; we drink wine of the worst (because there is no import fromFrance), but, _io triumphe!_ we are the conquerors of the world!' His deep aversion to the clamour of war, and all it represented, stimulated Erasmus's satirical faculties. It is true that he flatteredthe English national pride by an epigram on the rout of the French nearGuinegate, but soon he went deeper. He remembered how war had impededhis movements in Italy; how the entry of the pope-conqueror, Julius II, into Bologna had outraged his feelings. 'The high priest Julius wageswar, conquers, triumphs and truly plays the part of Julius (Caesar)' hehad written then. Pope Julius, he thought, had been the cause of all thewars spreading more and more over Europe. Now the Pope had died in thebeginning of the year 1513. And in the deepest secrecy, between his work on the New Testament andJerome, Erasmus took revenge on the martial Pope, for the misery of thetimes, by writing the masterly satire, entitled _Julius exclusus_, inwhich the Pope appears in all his glory before the gate of the HeavenlyParadise to plead his cause and find himself excluded. The theme was notnew to him; for had he not made something similar in the witty Cainfable, by which, at one time, he had cheered a dinner-party at Oxford?But that was an innocent jest to which his pious fellow-guests hadlistened with pleasure. To the satire about the defunct Pope many would, no doubt, also gladly listen, but Erasmus had to be careful about it. The folly of all the world might be ridiculed, but not the worldlypropensities of the recently deceased Pope. Therefore, though he helpedin circulating copies of the manuscript, Erasmus did his utmost, for therest of his life, to preserve its anonymity, and when it was universallyknown and had appeared in print, and he was presumed to be the author, he always cautiously denied the fact; although he was careful to usesuch terms as to avoid a formal denial. The first edition of the_Julius_ was published at Basle, not by Froben, Erasmus's ordinarypublisher, but by Cratander, probably in the year 1518. Erasmus's need of protesting against warfare had not been satisfied bywriting the _Julius_. In March 1514, no longer at Cambridge, but inLondon, he wrote a letter to his former patron, the Abbot of SaintBertin, Anthony of Bergen, in which he enlarges upon the folly of wagingwar. Would that a Christian peace were concluded between Christianprinces! Perhaps the abbot might contribute to that consummation throughhis influence with the youthful Charles V and especially with hisgrandfather Maximilian. Erasmus states quite frankly that the war hassuddenly changed the spirit of England. He would like to return to hisnative country if the prince would procure him the means to live therein peace. It is a remarkable fact and of true Erasmian naïveté that hecannot help mixing up his personal interests with his sincereindignation at the atrocities disgracing a man and a Christian. 'The warhas suddenly altered the spirit of this island. The cost of living risesevery day and generosity decreases. Through lack of wine I nearlyperished by gravel, contracted by taking bad stuff. We are confined inthis island, more than ever, so that even letters are not carriedabroad. ' This was the first of Erasmus's anti-war writings. He expanded it intothe adage _Dulce bellum inexpertis_, which was inserted into the_Adagia_ edition of 1515, published by Froben and afterwards alsoprinted separately. Hereafter we shall follow up this line of Erasmus'sideas as a whole. Though the summer of 1514 was to bring peace between England and France, Erasmus had now definitely made up his mind to leave England. He senthis trunks to Antwerp, to his friend Peter Gilles and prepared to go tothe Netherlands, after a short visit to Mountjoy at the castle of Hammesnear Calais. Shortly before his departure from London he had a curiousinterview with a papal diplomat, working in the cause of peace, CountCanossa, at Ammonius's house on the Thames. Ammonius passed him off onErasmus as a merchant. After the meal the Italian sounded him as to apossible return to Rome, where he might be the first in place instead ofliving alone among a barbarous nation. Erasmus replied that he lived ina land that contained the greatest number of excellent scholars, amongwhom he would be content with the humblest place. This compliment washis farewell to England, which had favoured him so. Some days later, inthe first half of July 1514, he was on the other side of the Channel. Onthree more occasions he paid short visits to England, but he lived thereno more. [Illustration: XIII. JOHANNES FROBEN, 1522-3 Reproduced by gracious permission of H. M. The Queen] [Illustration: XIV. THE PRINTER'S EMBLEM OF JOHANNES FROBEN] CHAPTER XI A LIGHT OF THEOLOGY 1514-16 On the way to success and satisfaction--His Prior calls him back to Steyn--He refuses to comply--First journey to Basle: 1514-16--Cordial welcome in Germany--Johannes Froben--Editions of Jerome and the New Testament--A Councillor to Prince Charles: _Institutio Principis Christiani_, 1515--Definitive dispensation from Monastic Vows: 1517--Fame--Erasmus as a spiritual centre--His correspondence--Letter-writing as an art--Its dangers--A glorious age at hand Erasmus had, as was usual with him, enveloped his departure from Englandwith mystery. It was given out that he was going to Rome to redeem apledge. Probably he had already determined to try his fortune in theNetherlands; not in Holland, but in the neighbourhood of the princelycourt in Brabant. The chief object of his journey, however, was to visitFroben's printing-office at Basle, personally to supervise thepublication of the numerous works, old and new, which he brought withhim, among them the material for his chosen task, the New Testament andJerome, by which he hoped to effect the restoration of theology, whichhe had long felt to be his life-work. It is easy thus to imagine hisanxiety when during the crossing he discovered that his hand-bag, containing the manuscripts, was found to have been taken on boardanother ship. He felt bereft, having lost the labour of so many years; asorrow so great, he writes, as only parents can feel at the loss oftheir children. To his joy, however, he found his manuscripts safe on the other side. Atthe castle of Hammes near Calais, he stayed for some days, the guest ofMountjoy. There, on 7 July, a letter found him, written on 18 April byhis superior, the prior of Steyn, his old friend Servatius Rogerus, recalling him to the monastery after so many years of absence. Theletter had already been in the hands of more than one prying person, before it reached him by mere chance. It was a terrific blow, which struck him in the midst of his course tohis highest aspirations. Erasmus took counsel for a day and then sent arefusal. To his old friend, in addressing whom he always found the mostserious accents of his being, he wrote a letter which he meant to be ajustification and which was self-contemplation, much deeper and moresincere than the one which, at a momentous turning-point of his life, had drawn from him his _Carmen Alpestre_. He calls upon God to be his witness that he would follow the purestinspiration of his life. But to return to the monastery! He remindsServatius of the circumstances under which he entered it, as they livedin his memory: the pressure of his relations, his false modesty. Hepoints out to him how ill monastic life had suited his constitution, howit outraged his love of freedom, how detrimental it would be to hisdelicate health, if now resumed. Had he, then, lived a worse life in theworld? Literature had kept him from many vices. His restless life couldnot redound to his dishonour, though only with diffidence did he dare toappeal to the examples of Solon, Pythagoras, St. Paul and his favouriteJerome. Had he not everywhere won recognition from friends and patrons?He enumerates them: cardinals, archbishops, bishops, Mountjoy, theUniversities of Oxford and Cambridge, and, lastly, John Colet. Wasthere, then, any objection to his works: the _Enchiridion_, the_Adagia_? (He did not mention the _Moria_. ) The best was still tofollow: Jerome and the New Testament. The fact that, since his stay inItaly, he had laid aside the habit of his order and wore a commonclerical dress, he could excuse on a number of grounds. The conclusion was: I shall not return to Holland. 'I know that I shallnot be able to stand the air and the food there; all eyes will bedirected to me. I shall return to the country, an old and grey man, wholeft it as a youth; I shall return a valetudinarian; I shall be exposedto the contempt even of the lowest, I, who am accustomed to be honouredeven by the greatest. ' 'It is not possible', he concludes, 'to speak outfrankly in a letter. I am now going to Basle and thence to Rome, perhaps, but on my return I shall try to visit you ... I have heard ofthe deaths of William, Francis and Andrew (his old Dutch friends). Remember me to Master Henry and the others who live with you; I amdisposed towards them as befits me. For those old tragedies I ascribe tomy errors, or if you like to my fate. Do not omit to commend me toChrist in your prayers. If I knew for sure that it would be pleasing toHim that I should return to live with you, I should prepare for thejourney this very day. Farewell, my former sweetest companion, now myvenerable father. ' Underlying the immediate motives of his high theological aspirations, this refusal was doubtless actuated by his ancient, inveterate, psychological incentives of disgust and shame. [13] * * * * * Through the southern Netherlands, where he visited several friends andpatrons and renewed his acquaintance with the University of Louvain, Erasmus turned to the Rhine and reached Basle in the second half ofAugust 1514. There such pleasures of fame awaited him as he had neveryet tasted. The German humanists hailed him as the light of theworld--in letters, receptions and banquets. They were more solemn andenthusiastic than Erasmus had found the scholars of France, England andItaly, to say nothing of his compatriots; and they applauded himemphatically as being a German himself and an ornament of Germany. Athis first meeting with Froben, Erasmus permitted himself the pleasure ofa jocular deception: he pretended to be a friend and agent of himself, to enjoy to the full the joy of being recognized. The German environmentwas rather to his mind: '_My_ Germany, which to my regret and shame Igot to know so late'. Soon the work for which he had come was in full swing. He was in hiselement once more, as he had been at Venice six years before: workinghard in a large printing-office, surrounded by scholars, who heaped uponhim homage and kindness in those rare moments of leisure which hepermitted himself. 'I move in a most agreeable Museon: so many men oflearning, and of such exceptional learning!' Some translations of the lesser works of Plutarch were published byFroben in August. The _Adagia_ was passing through the press again withcorrections and additions, and the preface which was originally destinedfor Badius. At the same time Dirck Maertensz, at Louvain, was also atwork for Erasmus, who had, on passing through the town, entrusted himwith a collection of easy Latin texts; also M. Schürer at Strassburg, who prepared the _Parabolae sive similia_ for him. For Froben, too, Erasmus was engaged on a Seneca, which appeared in 1515, together with awork on Latin construction. But Jerome and the New Testament remainedhis chief occupation. Jerome's works had been Erasmus's love in early youth, especially hisletters. The plan of preparing a correct edition of the great Father ofthe Church was conceived in 1500, if not earlier, and he had worked atit ever since, at intervals. In 1513 he writes to Ammonius: 'Myenthusiasm for emending and annotating Jerome is such that I feel asthough inspired by some god. I have almost completely emended himalready by collating many old manuscripts. And this I do at incrediblygreat expense. ' In 1512 he negotiated with Badius about an edition ofthe letters. Froben's partner, Johannes Amerbach, who died beforeErasmus's arrival, had been engaged for years on an edition of Jerome. Several scholars, Reuchlin among others, had assisted in the undertakingwhen Erasmus offered himself and all his material. He became the actualeditor. Of the nine volumes, in which Froben published the work in 1516, the first four contained Erasmus's edition of Jerome's letters; theothers had been corrected by him and provided with forewords. His work upon the New Testament was, if possible, still nearer hisheart. By its growth it had gradually changed its nature. Since the timewhen Valla's _Annotationes_ had directed his attention to textualcriticism of the Vulgate, Erasmus had, probably during his second stayin England from 1505 to 1506, at the instance of Colet, made a newtranslation of the New Testament from the Greek original, whichtranslation differed greatly from the Vulgate. Besides Colet, few hadseen it. Later, Erasmus understood it was necessary to publish also anew edition of the Greek text, with his notes. As to this he had made aprovisional arrangement with Froben, shortly after his arrival at Basle. Afterwards he considered that it would be better to have it printed inItaly, and was on the point of going there when, possibly persuaded bynew offers from Froben, he suddenly changed his plan of travel and inthe spring of 1515 made a short trip to England--probably, among otherreasons, for the purpose of securing a copy of his translation of theNew Testament, which he had left behind there. In the summer he was backat Basle and resumed the work in Froben's printing-office. In thebeginning of 1516 the _Novum Instrumentum_ appeared, containing thepurified Greek text with notes, together with a Latin translation inwhich Erasmus had altered too great deviations from the Vulgate. From the moment of the appearance of two such important and, as regardsthe second, such daring theological works by Erasmus as Jerome and theNew Testament, we may say that he had made himself the centre of thescientific study of divinity, as he was at the same time the centre andtouchstone of classic erudition and literary taste. His authorityconstantly increased in all countries, his correspondence wasprodigiously augmented. But while his mental growth was accomplished, his financial position wasnot assured. The years 1515 to 1517 are among the most restless of hislife; he is still looking out for every chance which presents itself, acanonry at Tournay, a prebend in England, a bishopric in Sicily, alwayshalf jocularly regretting the good chances he missed in former times, jesting about his pursuit of fortune, lamenting about his 'spouse, execrable poverty, which even yet I have not succeeded in shaking off myshoulders'. And, after all, ever more the victim of his own restlessnessthan of the disfavour of fate. He is now fifty years old and still heis, as he says, 'sowing without knowing what I shall reap'. This, however, only refers to his career, not to his life-work. In the course of 1515 a new and promising patron, John le Sauvage, Chancellor of Brabant, had succeeded in procuring for him the title ofcouncillor of the prince, the youthful Charles V. In the beginning of1516 he was nominated: it was a mere title of honour, promising a yearlypension of 200 florins, which, however, was paid but irregularly. Tohabilitate himself as a councillor of the prince, Erasmus wrote the_Institutio Principis Christiani_, a treatise about the education of aprince, which in accordance with Erasmus's nature and inclination dealsrather with moral than with political matters, and is in strikingcontrast with that other work, written some years earlier, _il Principe_by Machiavelli. When his work at Basle ceased for the time being, in the spring of 1516, Erasmus journeyed to the Netherlands. At Brussels he met the chancellor, who, in addition to the prince's pension, procured him a prebend atCourtray, which, like the English benefice mentioned above, wascompounded for by money payments. At Antwerp lived one of the greatfriends who helped in his support all his life: Peter Gilles, the youngtown clerk, in whose house he stayed as often as he came to Antwerp. Peter Gilles is the man who figures in More's _Utopia_ as the person inwhose garden the sailor tells his experiences; it was in these days thatGilles helped Dirck Maertensz, at Louvain, to pass the first edition ofthe _Utopia_ through the press. Later Quentin Metsys was to paint himand Erasmus, joined in a diptych; a present for Thomas More and for us avivid memorial of one of the best things Erasmus ever knew: this triplefriendship. In the summer of 1516 Erasmus made another short trip to England. Hestayed with More, saw Colet again, also Warham, Fisher, and the otherfriends. But it was not to visit old friends that he went there. Apressing and delicate matter impelled him. Now that prebends and churchdignities began to be presented to him, it was more urgent than everthat the impediments in the way of a free ecclesiastical career shouldbe permanently obviated. He was provided with a dispensation of PopeJulius II, authorizing him to accept English prebends, and anotherexempting him from the obligation of wearing the habit of his order. Butboth were of limited scope, and insufficient. The fervent impatiencewith which he conducted this matter of his definite discharge from theorder makes it probable that, as Dr. Allen presumes, the threat of hisrecall to Steyn had, since his refusal to Servatius in 1514, hung overhis head. There was nothing he feared and detested so much. With his friend Ammonius he drew up, in London, a very elaborate paper, addressed to the apostolic chancery, in which he recounts the story ofhis own life as that of one Florentius: his half-enforced entrance tothe monastery, the troubles which monastic life had brought him, thecircumstances which had induced him to lay his monk's dress aside. It isa passionate apology, pathetic and ornate. The letter, as we know it, does not contain a direct request. In an appendix at the end, written incipher, of which he sent the key in sympathetic ink in another letter, the chancery was requested to obviate the impediments which Erasmus'sillegitimate birth placed in the way of his promotion. The addressee, Lambertus Grunnius, apostolic secretary, was most probably an imaginarypersonage. [14] So much mystery did Erasmus use when his vital interestswere at stake. The Bishop of Worcester, Silvestro Gigli, who was setting out to theLateran Council, as the envoy of England, took upon himself to deliverthe letter and to plead Erasmus's cause. Erasmus, having meanwhile atthe end of August returned to the Netherlands, awaited the upshot of hiskind offices in the greatest suspense. The matter was finally settled inJanuary 1517. In two letters bearing the signature of Sadolet, Leo Xcondoned Erasmus's transgressions of ecclesiastical law, relieved him ofthe obligation to wear the dress of his order, allowed him to live inthe world and authorized him to hold church benefices in spite of anydisqualifications arising from illegitimacy of birth. So much his great fame had now achieved. The Pope had moreover acceptedthe dedication of the edition of the New Testament, and had, throughSadolet, expressed himself in very gracious terms about Erasmus's workin general. Rome itself seemed to further his endeavours in allrespects. Erasmus now thought of establishing himself permanently in theNetherlands, to which everything pointed. Louvain seemed to be the mostsuitable abode, the centre of studies, where he had already spent twoyears in former times. But Louvain did not attract him. It was thestronghold of conservative theology. Martin van Dorp, a Dutchman likeErasmus, and professor of divinity at Louvain, had, in 1514, in the nameof his faculty, rebuked Erasmus in a letter for the audacity of the_Praise of Folly_, his derision of divines and also his temerity incorrecting the text of the New Testament. Erasmus had defended himselfelaborately. At present war was being waged in a much wider field: foror against Reuchlin, the great Hebrew scholar, for whom the authors ofthe _Epistolae obscurorum virorum_ had so sensationally taken up thecudgels. At Louvain Erasmus was regarded with the same suspicion withwhich he distrusted Dorp and the other Louvain divines. He stayed duringthe remainder of 1516 and the first half of 1517 at Antwerp, Brusselsand Ghent, often in the house of Peter Gilles. In February 1517, therecame tempting offers from France. Budaeus, Cop, Étienne Poncher, Bishopof Paris, wrote to him that the king, the youthful Francis I, wouldpresent him with a generous prebend if he would come to Paris. Erasmus, always shy of being tied down, only wrote polite, evasive answers, anddid not go. * * * * * In the meantime he received the news of the papal absolution. Inconnection with this he had, once more, to visit England, littledreaming that it would be the last time he should set foot on Britishsoil. In Ammonius's house of Saint Stephen's Chapel at Westminster on 9April 1517, the ceremony of absolution took place, ridding Erasmus forgood of the nightmare which had oppressed him since his youth. At lasthe was free! Invitations and specious promises now came to him from all sides. Mountjoy and Wolsey spoke of high ecclesiastical honours which awaitedhim in England. Budaeus kept pressing him to remove to France. CardinalXimenes wanted to attach him to the University of Alcalá, in Spain. TheDuke of Saxony offered him a chair at Leipzig. Pirckheimer boasted ofthe perfections of the free imperial city of Nuremberg. Erasmus, meanwhile, overwhelmed again with the labour of writing and editing, according to his wont, did not definitely decline any of these offers;neither did he accept any. He always wanted to keep all his strings onhis bow at the same time. In the early summer of 1517 he was asked toaccompany the court of the youthful Charles, who was on the point ofleaving the Netherlands for Spain. But he declined. His departure toSpain would have meant a long interruption of immediate contact with thegreat publishing centres, Basle, Louvain, Strassburg, Paris, and that, in turn, would have meant postponement of his life-work. When, in thebeginning of July, the prince set out for Middelburg, there to take shipfor Spain, Erasmus started for Louvain. He was thus destined to go to this university environment, although itdispleased him in so many respects. There he would have academic duties, young latinists would follow him about to get their poems and letterscorrected by him and all those divines, whom he distrusted, would watchhim at close quarters. But it was only to be for a few months. 'I haveremoved to Louvain', he writes to the Archbishop of Canterbury, 'till Ishall decide which residence is best suited to old age, which is alreadyknocking at the gate importunately. ' As it turned out, he was to spend four years (1517-21) at Louvain. Hislife was now becoming more stationary, but because of outwardcircumstances rather than of inward quiet. He kept deliberating allthose years whether he should go to England, Germany or France, hopingat last to find the brilliant position which he had always coveted andnever had been able or willing to grasp. The years 1516-18 may be called the culmination of Erasmus's career. Applauding crowds surrounded him more and more. The minds of men wereseemingly prepared for something great to happen and they looked toErasmus as the man! At Brussels, he was continually bothered with visitsfrom Spaniards, Italians and Germans who wanted to boast of theirinterviews with him. The Spaniards, with their verbose solemnity, particularly bored him. Most exuberant of all were the eulogies withwhich the German humanists greeted him in their letters. This had begunalready on his first journey to Basle in 1514. 'Great Rotterdamer', 'ornament of Germany', 'ornament of the world' were some of the simplesteffusions. Town councils waited upon him, presents of wine and publicbanquets were of common occurrence. No one expresses himself sohyperbolically as the jurist Ulrich Zasius of Freiburg. 'I am pointedout in public', he asserts, 'as the man who has received a letter fromErasmus. ' 'Thrice greatest hero, you great Jove' is a moderateapostrophe for him. 'The Swiss', Zwingli writes in 1516, 'account it agreat glory to have seen Erasmus. ' 'I know and I teach nothing butErasmus now, ' writes Wolfgang Capito. Ulrich von Hutten and HenryGlareanus both imagine themselves placed beside Erasmus, as Alcibiadesstood beside Socrates. And Beatus Rhenanus devotes to him a life ofearnest admiration and helpfulness that was to prove of much more valuethan these exuberant panegyrics. There is an element of nationalexaltation in this German enthusiasm for Erasmus: it is the violentlystimulated mood into which Luther's word will fall anon. The other nations also chimed in with praise, though a little later anda little more soberly. Colet and Tunstall promise him immortality, Étienne Poncher exalts him above the celebrated Italian humanists, Germain de Brie declares that French scholars have ceased reading anyauthors but Erasmus, and Budaeus announces that all Western Christendomresounds with his name. This increase of glory manifested itself in different ways. Almost everyyear the rumour of his death was spread abroad, malignantly, as hehimself thinks. Again, all sorts of writings were ascribed to him inwhich he had no share whatever, amongst others the _Epistolae obscurorumvirorum_. But, above all, his correspondence increased immensely. The time waslong since past when he asked More to procure him more correspondents. Letters now kept pouring in to him, from all sides, beseeching him toreply. A former pupil laments with tears that he cannot show a singlenote written by Erasmus. Scholars respectfully sought an introductionfrom one of his friends, before venturing to address him. In thisrespect Erasmus was a man of heroic benevolence, and tried to answerwhat he could, although so overwhelmed by letters every day that hehardly found time to read them. 'If I do not answer, I seem unkind, 'says Erasmus, and that thought was intolerable. We should bear in mind that letter-writing, at that time, occupied moreor less the place of the newspaper at present, or rather of the literarymonthly, which arose fairly directly out of erudite correspondence. Itwas, as in antiquity--which in this respect was imitated better and moreprofitably, perhaps, than in any other sphere--an art. Even before 1500Erasmus had, at Paris, described that art in the treatise, _Deconscribendis epistolis_, which was to appear in print in 1522. Peoplewrote, as a rule, with a view to later publication, for a wider circle, or at any rate, with the certainty that the recipient would show theletter to others. A fine Latin letter was a gem, which a man envied hisneighbour. Erasmus writes to Budaeus: 'Tunstall has devoured your letterto me and re-read it as many as three or four times; I had literally totear it from his hands. ' Unfortunately fate did not always take into consideration the author'sintentions as to publicity, semi-publicity or strict secrecy. Oftenletters passed through many hands before reaching their destination, asdid Servatius's letter to Erasmus in 1514. 'Do be careful aboutletters, ' he writes more than once; 'waylayers are on the lookout tointercept them. ' Yet, with the curious precipitation that characterizeshim, Erasmus was often very careless as to what he wrote. From an earlyage he preserved and cared for his letters, yet nevertheless, throughhis itinerant life, many were lost. He could not control theirpublication. As early as 1509 a friend sent him a manuscript volume ofhis own (Erasmus's) letters, that he had picked up for sale at Rome. Erasmus had it burnt at once. Since 1515 he himself superintended thepublication of his letters; at first only a few important ones;afterwards in 1516 a selection of letters from friends to him, and afterthat ever larger collections till, at the end of his life, thereappeared a new collection almost every year. No article was so much indemand on the book market as letters by Erasmus, and no wonder. Theywere models of excellent style, tasteful Latin, witty expression andelegant erudition. The semi-private, semi-public character of the letters often made themcompromising. What one could say to a friend in confidence mightpossibly injure when many read it. Erasmus, who never was aware howinjuriously he expressed himself, repeatedly gave rise tomisunderstanding and estrangement. Manners, so to say, had not yetadapted themselves to the new art of printing, which increased thepublicity of the written word a thousandfold. Only gradually under thisnew influence was the separation effected between the public word, intended for the press, and the private communication, which remains inwriting and is read only by the recipient. Meanwhile, with the growth of Erasmus's fame, his earlier writings, too, had risen in the public estimation. The great success of the_Enchiridion militis christiani_ had begun about 1515, when the timeswere much riper for it than eleven years before. 'The _Moria_ isembraced as the highest wisdom, ' writes John Watson to him in 1516. Inthe same year we find a word used, for the first time, which expressesbetter than anything else how much Erasmus had become a centre ofauthority: _Erasmiani_. So his German friends called themselves, according to Johannes Sapidus. More than a year later Dr. Johannes Eckemploys the word still in a rather friendly sense, as a generallycurrent term: 'all scholars in Germany are Erasmians, ' he says. ButErasmus did not like the word. 'I find nothing in myself', he replies, 'why anyone should wish to be an Erasmicus, and, altogether, I hatethose party names. We are all followers of Christ, and to His glory weall drudge, each for his part. ' But he knows that now the question is:for or against him! From the brilliant latinist and the man of wit ofhis prime he had become the international pivot on which thecivilization of his age hinged. He could not help beginning to feelhimself the brain, the heart and the conscience of his times. It mighteven appear to him that he was called to speak the great redeeming wordor, perhaps, that he had already spoken it. The faith in an easy triumphof pure knowledge and Christian meekness in a near future speaks fromthe preface of Erasmus's edition of the New Testament. How clear did the future look in those years! In this period Erasmusrepeatedly reverts to the glad motif of a golden age, which is on thepoint of dawning. Perennial peace is before the door. The highestprinces of the world, Francis I of France, Charles, King of Spain, HenryVIII of England, and the emperor Maximilian have ensured peace by thestrongest ties. Uprightness and Christian piety will flourish togetherwith the revival of letters and the sciences. As at a given signal themightiest minds conspire to restore a high standard of culture. We maycongratulate the age, it will be a golden one. But Erasmus does not sound this note long. It is heard for the last timein 1519; after which the dream of universal happiness about to dawngives place to the usual complaint about the badness of the timeseverywhere. FOOTNOTES: [13] For a full translation of this important letter see pp. 212-18. [14] The name Grunnius may have been taken from Jerome's epistles, whereit is a nickname for a certain Ruffinus, whom Jerome disliked very much. It appears again in a letter of 5 March 1531, LB. X 1590 A. CHAPTER XII ERASMUS'S MIND Erasmus's mind: Ethical and aesthetic tendencies, aversion to all that is unreasonable, silly and cumbrous--His vision of antiquity pervaded by Christian faith--Renascence of good learning--The ideal life of serene harmony and happy wisdom--Love of the decorous and smooth--His mind neither philosophic nor historical, but strongly philological and moralistic--Freedom, clearness, purity, simplicity--Faith in nature--Educational and social ideas What made Erasmus the man from whom his contemporaries expected theirsalvation, on whose lips they hung to catch the word of deliverance? Heseemed to them the bearer of a new liberty of the mind, a new clearness, purity and simplicity of knowledge, a new harmony of healthy and rightliving. He was to them as the possessor of newly discovered, untoldwealth which he had only to distribute. What was there in the mind of the great Rotterdamer which promised somuch to the world? The negative aspect of Erasmus's mind may be defined as a heartfeltaversion to everything unreasonable, insipid, purely formal, with whichthe undisturbed growth of medieval culture had overburdened andovercrowded the world of thought. As often as he thinks of theridiculous text-books out of which Latin was taught in his youth, disgust rises in his mind, and he execrates them--Mammetrectus, Brachylogus, Ebrardus and all the rest--as a heap of rubbish which oughtto be cleared away. But this aversion to the superannuated, which hadbecome useless and soulless, extended much farther. He found society, and especially religious life, full of practices, ceremonies, traditionsand conceptions, from which the spirit seemed to have departed. He doesnot reject them offhand and altogether: what revolts him is that theyare so often performed without understanding and right feeling. But tohis mind, highly susceptible to the foolish and ridiculous things, andwith a delicate need of high decorum and inward dignity, all that sphereof ceremony and tradition displays itself as a useless, nay, a hurtfulscene of human stupidity and selfishness. And, intellectualist as he is, with his contempt for ignorance, he seems unaware that those religiousobservances, after all, may contain valuable sentiments of unexpressedand unformulated piety. Through his treatises, his letters, his _Colloquies_ especially, therealways passes--as if one was looking at a gallery of Brueghel'spictures--a procession of ignorant and covetous monks who by theirsanctimony and humbug impose upon the trustful multitude and faresumptuously themselves. As a fixed motif (such motifs are numerous withErasmus) there always recurs his gibe about the superstition that aperson was saved by dying in the gown of a Franciscan or a Dominican. Fasting, prescribed prayers, the observance of holy days, should not bealtogether neglected, but they become displeasing to God when we reposeour trust in them and forget charity. The same holds good of confession, indulgence, all sorts of blessings. Pilgrimages are worthless. Theveneration of the Saints and of their relics is full of superstition andfoolishness. The people think they will be preserved from disastersduring the day if only they have looked at the painted image of SaintChristopher in the morning. 'We kiss the shoes of the saints and theirdirty handkerchiefs and we leave their books, their most holy andefficacious relics, neglected. ' Erasmus's dislike of what seemed antiquated and worn out in his days, went farther still. It comprised the whole intellectual scheme ofmedieval theology and philosophy. In the syllogistic system he foundonly subtlety and arid ingenuity. All symbolism and allegory werefundamentally alien to him and indifferent, though he occasionally triedhis hand at an allegory; and he never was mystically inclined. Now here it is just as much the deficiencies of his own mind as thequalities of the system which made him unable to appreciate it. While hestruck at the abuse of ceremonies and of Church practices both withnoble indignation and well-aimed mockery, a proud irony to which he wasnot fully entitled preponderates in his condemnation of scholastictheology which he could not quite understand. It was easy always to talkwith a sneer of the conservative divines of his time as _magistrinostri_. His noble indignation hurt only those who deserved castigation andstrengthened what was valuable, but his mockery hurt the good as well asthe bad in spite of him, assailed both the institution and persons, andinjured without elevating them. The individualist Erasmus neverunderstood what it meant to offend the honour of an office, an order, oran establishment, especially when that institution is the most sacred ofall, the Church itself. Erasmus's conception of the Church was no longer purely Catholic. Ofthat glorious structure of medieval-Christian civilization with itsmystic foundation, its strict hierarchic construction, its splendidlyfitting symmetry he saw hardly anything but its load of outward detailsand ornament. Instead of the world which Thomas Aquinas and Dante haddescribed, according to their vision, Erasmus saw another world, full ofcharm and elevated feeling, and this he held up before his compatriots. [Illustration: XV. THE HANDS OF ERASMUS] It was the world of Antiquity, but illuminated throughout by Christianfaith. It was a world that had never existed as such. For with thehistorical reality which the times of Constantine and the great fathersof the Church had manifested--that of declining Latinity anddeteriorating Hellenism, the oncoming barbarism and the oncomingByzantinism--it had nothing in common. Erasmus's imagined world was anamalgamation of pure classicism (this meant for him, Cicero, Horace, Plutarch; for to the flourishing period of the Greek mind he remainedafter all a stranger) and pure, biblical Christianity. Could it be aunion? Not really. In Erasmus's mind the light falls, just as we saw inthe history of his career, alternately on the pagan antique and on theChristian. But the warp of his mind is Christian; his classicism onlyserves him as a form, and from Antiquity he only chooses those elementswhich in ethical tendency are in conformity with his Christian ideal. [Illustration: XVI. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 57] And because of this, Erasmus, although he appeared after a century ofearlier Humanism, is yet new to his time. The union of Antiquity and theChristian spirit which had haunted the mind of Petrarch, the father ofHumanism, which was lost sight of by his disciples, enchanted as theywere by the irresistible brilliance of the antique beauty of form, thisunion was brought about by Erasmus. What pure Latinity and the classic spirit meant to Erasmus we cannotfeel as he did because its realization does not mean to us, as to him, adifficult conquest and a glorious triumph. To feel it thus one must haveacquired, in a hard school, the hatred of barbarism, which alreadyduring his first years of authorship had suggested the composition ofthe _Antibarbari_. The abusive term for all that is old and rude isalready Gothic, Goths. The term barbarism as used by Erasmus comprisedmuch of what we value most in the medieval spirit. Erasmus's conceptionof the great intellectual crisis of his day was distinctly dualistic. Hesaw it as a struggle between old and new, which, to him, meant evil andgood. In the advocates of tradition he saw only obscurantism, conservatism, and ignorant opposition to _bonae literae_, that is, thegood cause for which he and his partisans battled. Of the rise of thathigher culture Erasmus had already formed the conception which has sincedominated the history of the Renaissance. It was a revival, begun two orthree hundred years before his time, in which, besides literature, allthe plastic arts shared. Side by side with the terms restitution andreflorescence the word renascence crops up repeatedly in his writings. 'The world is coming to its senses as if awaking out of a deep sleep. Still there are some left who recalcitrate pertinaciously, clingingconvulsively with hands and feet to their old ignorance. They fear thatif _bonae literae_ are reborn and the world grows wise, it will come tolight that they have known nothing. ' They do not know how pious theAncients could be, what sanctity characterizes Socrates, Virgil, andHorace, or Plutarch's _Moralia_, how rich the history of Antiquity is inexamples of forgiveness and true virtue. We should call nothing profanethat is pious and conduces to good morals. No more dignified view oflife was ever found than that which Cicero propounds in _De Senectute_. In order to understand Erasmus's mind and the charm which it had for hiscontemporaries, one must begin with the ideal of life that was presentbefore his inward eye as a splendid dream. It is not his own inparticular. The whole Renaissance cherished that wish of reposeful, blithe, and yet serious intercourse of good and wise friends in the coolshade of a house under trees, where serenity and harmony would dwell. The age yearned for the realization of simplicity, sincerity, truth andnature. Their imagination was always steeped in the essence ofAntiquity, though, at heart, it is more nearly connected with medievalideals than they themselves were aware. In the circle of the Medici itis the idyll of Careggi, in Rabelais it embodies itself in the fancy ofthe abbey of Thélème; it finds voice in More's _Utopia_ and in the workof Montaigne. In Erasmus's writings that ideal wish ever recurs in theshape of a friendly walk, followed by a meal in a garden-house. It isfound as an opening scene of the _Antibarbari_, in the numerousdescriptions of meals with Colet, and the numerous _Convivia_ of the_Colloquies_. Especially in the _Convivium religiosum_ Erasmus haselaborately pictured his dream, and it would be worth while to compareit, on the one hand with Thélème, and on the other with the fantasticdesign of a pleasure garden which Bernard Palissy describes. The littleDutch eighteenth-century country-seats and garden-houses in which thenational spirit took great delight are the fulfilment of a purelyErasmian ideal. The host of the _Convivium religiosum_ says: 'To me asimple country-house, a nest, is pleasanter than any palace, and, if hebe king who lives in freedom and according to his wishes, surely I amking here'. Life's true joy is in virtue and piety. If they are Epicureans who livepleasantly, then none are more truly Epicureans than they who live inholiness and piety. The ideal joy of life is also perfectly idyllic in so far that itrequires an aloofness from earthly concerns and contempt for all that issordid. It is foolish to be interested in all that happens in the world;to pride oneself on one's knowledge of the market, of the King ofEngland's plans, the news from Rome, conditions in Denmark. The sensibleold man of the _Colloquium Senile_ has an easy post of honour, a safemediocrity, he judges no one and nothing and smiles upon all the world. Quiet for oneself, surrounded by books--that is of all things mostdesirable. On the outskirts of this ideal of serenity and harmony numerous flowersof aesthetic value blow, such as Erasmus's sense of decorum, his greatneed of kindly courtesy, his pleasure in gentle and obliging treatment, in cultured and easy manners. Close by are some of his intellectualpeculiarities. He hates the violent and extravagant. Therefore thechoruses of the Greek drama displease him. The merit of his own poems hesees in the fact that they pass passion by, they abstain from pathosaltogether--'there is not a single storm in them, no mountain torrentoverflowing its banks, no exaggeration whatever. There is greatfrugality in words. My poetry would rather keep within bounds thanexceed them, rather hug the shore than cleave the high seas. ' In anotherplace he says: 'I am always most pleased by a poem that does not differtoo much from prose, but prose of the best sort, be it understood. AsPhiloxenus accounted those the most palatable fishes that are no truefishes and the most savoury meat what is no meat, the most pleasantvoyage, that along the shores, and the most agreeable walk, that alongthe water's edge; so I take especial pleasure in a rhetorical poem and apoetical oration, so that poetry is tasted in prose and the reverse. 'That is the man of half-tones, of fine shadings, of the thought that isnever completely expressed. But he adds: 'Farfetched conceits may pleaseothers; to me the chief concern seems to be that we draw our speech fromthe matter itself and apply ourselves less to showing off our inventionthan to present the thing. ' That is the realist. From this conception results his admirable, simple clarity, theexcellent division and presentation of his argument. But it also causeshis lack of depth and the prolixity by which he is characterized. Hismachine runs too smoothly. In the endless _apologiae_ of his lateryears, ever new arguments occur to him; new passages to point, orquotations to support, his idea. He praises laconism, but neverpractises it. Erasmus never coins a sentence which, rounded off andpithy, becomes a proverb and in this manner lives. There are no currentquotations from Erasmus. The collector of the _Adagia_ has created nonew ones of his own. The true occupation for a mind like his was paraphrasing, in which, indeed, he amply indulged. Soothing down and unfolding was just the workhe liked. It is characteristic that he paraphrased the whole NewTestament except the Apocalypse. Erasmus's mind was neither philosophic nor historic. His was neither thework of exact, logical discrimination, nor of grasping the deep sense ofthe way of the world in broad historical visions in which theparticulars themselves, in their multiplicity and variegation, form theimage. His mind is philological in the fullest sense of the word. But bythat alone he would not have conquered and captivated the world. Hismind was at the same time of a deeply ethical and rather strongaesthetic trend and those three together have made him great. The foundation of Erasmus's mind is his fervent desire of freedom, clearness, purity, simplicity and rest. It is an old ideal of life towhich he gave new substance by the wealth of his mind. Without liberty, life is no life; and there is no liberty without repose. The fact thathe never took sides definitely resulted from an urgent need of perfectindependence. Each engagement, even a temporary one, was felt as afetter by Erasmus. An interlocutor in the _Colloquies_, in which he sooften, spontaneously, reveals his own ideals of life, declares himselfdetermined neither to marry, nor to take holy orders, nor to enter amonastery, nor into any connection from which he will afterwards beunable to free himself--at least not before he knows himself completely. 'When will that be? Never, perhaps. ' 'On no other account do Icongratulate myself more than on the fact that I have never attachedmyself to any party, ' Erasmus says towards the end of his life. Liberty should be spiritual liberty in the first place. 'But he that isspiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man, ' isthe word of Saint Paul. To what purpose should he require prescriptionswho, of his own accord, does better things than human laws require? Whatarrogance it is to bind by institutions a man who is clearly led by theinspirations of the divine spirit! In Erasmus we already find the beginning of that optimism which judgesupright man good enough to dispense with fixed forms and rules. As More, in _Utopia_, and Rabelais, Erasmus relies already on the dictates ofnature, which produces man as inclined to good and which we may follow, provided we are imbued with faith and piety. In this line of confidence in what is natural and desire of the simpleand reasonable, Erasmus's educational and social ideas lie. Here he isfar ahead of his times. It would be an attractive undertaking to discussErasmus's educational ideals more fully. They foreshadow exactly thoseof the eighteenth century. The child should learn in playing, by meansof things that are agreeable to its mind, from pictures. Its faultsshould be gently corrected. The flogging and abusive schoolmaster isErasmus's abomination; the office itself is holy and venerable to him. Education should begin from the moment of birth. Probably Erasmusattached too much value to classicism, here as elsewhere: his friendPeter Gilles should implant the rudiments of the ancient languages inhis two-year-old son, that he may greet his father with endearingstammerings in Greek and Latin. But what gentleness and clear good senseshines from all Erasmus says about instruction and education! The same holds good of his views about marriage and woman. In theproblem of sexual relations he distinctly sides with the woman from deepconviction. There is a great deal of tenderness and delicate feeling inhis conception of the position of the girl and the woman. Few charactersof the _Colloquies_ have been drawn with so much sympathy as the girlwith the lover and the cultured woman in the witty conversation with theabbot. Erasmus's ideal of marriage is truly social and hygienic. Let usbeget children for the State and for Christ, says the lover, childrenendowed by their upright parents with a good disposition, children whosee the good example at home which is to guide them. Again and again hereverts to the mother's duty to suckle the child herself. He indicateshow the house should be arranged, in a simple and cleanly manner; heoccupies himself with the problem of useful children's dress. Who stoodup at that time, as he did, for the fallen girl, and for the prostitutecompelled by necessity? Who saw so clearly the social danger ofmarriages of persons infected with the new scourge of Europe, soviolently abhorred by Erasmus? He would wish that such a marriage shouldat once be declared null and void by the Pope. Erasmus does not holdwith the easy social theory, still quite current in the literature ofhis time, which casts upon women all the blame of adultery and lewdness. With the savages who live in a state of nature, he says, the adultery ofmen is punished, but that of women is forgiven. Here it appears, at the same time, that Erasmus knew, be it half injest, the conception of natural virtue and happiness of naked islandersin a savage state. It soon crops up again in Montaigne and the followingcenturies develop it into a literary dogma. CHAPTER XIII ERASMUS'S MIND-CONTINUED Erasmus's mind: Intellectual tendencies--The world encumbered by beliefs and forms--Truth must be simple--Back to the pure sources--Holy Scripture in the original languages--Biblical humanism--Critical work on the texts of Scripture--Practice better than dogma--Erasmus's talent and wit--Delight in words and things--Prolixity--Observation of details--A veiled realism--Ambiguousness--The 'Nuance'--Inscrutability of the ultimate ground of all things Simplicity, naturalness, purity, and reasonableness, those are toErasmus the dominant requirements, also when we pass from his ethicaland aesthetic concepts to his intellectual point of view; indeed, thetwo can hardly be kept apart. The world, says Erasmus, is overloaded with human constitutions andopinions and scholastic dogmas, and overburdened with the tyrannicalauthority of orders, and because of all this the strength of gospeldoctrine is flagging. Faith requires simplification, he argued. Whatwould the Turks say of our scholasticism? Colet wrote to him one day:'There is no end to books and science. Let us, therefore, leave allroundabout roads and go by a short cut to the truth. ' Truth must be simple. 'The language of truth is simple, says Seneca;well then, nothing is simpler nor truer than Christ. ' 'I should wish', Erasmus says elsewhere, 'that this simple and pure Christ might bedeeply impressed upon the mind of men, and that I deem best attainablein this way, that we, supported by our knowledge of the originallanguages, should philosophize _at the sources_ themselves. ' Here a new watchword comes to the fore: back to the sources! It is notmerely an intellectual, philological requirement; it is equally anethical and aesthetic necessity of life. The original and pure, all thatis not yet overgrown or has not passed through many hands, has such apotent charm. Erasmus compared it to an apple which we ourselves pickoff the tree. To recall the world to the ancient simplicity of science, to lead it back from the now turbid pools to those living and most purefountain-heads, those most limpid sources of gospel doctrine--thus hesaw the task of divinity. The metaphor of the limpid water is notwithout meaning here; it reveals the psychological quality of Erasmus'sfervent principle. 'How is it', he exclaims, 'that people give themselves so much troubleabout the details of all sorts of remote philosophical systems andneglect to go to the sources of Christianity itself?' 'Although thiswisdom, which is so excellent that once for all it put the wisdom of allthe world to shame, may be drawn from these few books, as from acrystalline source, with far less trouble than is the wisdom ofAristotle from so many thorny books and with much more fruit.... Theequipment for that journey is simple and at everyone's immediatedisposal. This philosophy is accessible to everybody. Christ desiresthat his mysteries shall be spread as widely as possible. I should wishthat all good wives read the Gospel and Paul's Epistles; that they weretranslated into all languages; that out of these the husbandman sangwhile ploughing, the weaver at his loom; that with such stories thetraveller should beguile his wayfaring.... This sort of philosophy israther a matter of disposition than of syllogisms, rather of life thanof disputation, rather of inspiration than of erudition, rather oftransformation than of logic.... What is the philosophy of Christ, whichhe himself calls _Renascentia_, but the insaturation of Nature createdgood?--moreover, though no one has taught us this so absolutely andeffectively as Christ, yet also in pagan books much may be found that isin accordance with it. ' Such was the view of life of this biblical humanist. As often as Erasmusreverts to these matters, his voice sounds clearest. 'Let no one', hesays in the preface to the notes to the New Testament, 'take up thiswork, as he takes up Gellius's _Noctes atticae_ or Poliziano'sMiscellanies.... We are in the presence of holy things; here it is noquestion of eloquence, these matters are best recommended to the worldby simplicity and purity; it would be ridiculous to display humanerudition here, impious to pride oneself on human eloquence. ' ButErasmus never was so eloquent himself as just then. What here raises him above his usual level of force and fervour is thefact that he fights a battle, the battle for the right of biblicalcriticism. It revolts him that people should study Holy Scripture in theVulgate when they know that the texts show differences and are corrupt, although we have the Greek text by which to go back to the original formand primary meaning. He is now reproached because he dares, as a mere grammarian, to assailthe text of Holy Scripture on the score of futile mistakes orirregularities. 'Details they are, yes, but because of these details wesometimes see even great divines stumble and rave. ' Philologicaltrifling is necessary. 'Why are we so precise as to our food, ourclothes, our money-matters and why does this accuracy displease us indivine literature alone? He crawls along the ground, they say, hewearies himself out about words and syllables! Why do we slight any wordof Him whom we venerate and worship under the name of the Word? But, beit so! Let whoever wishes imagine that I have not been able to achieveanything better, and out of sluggishness of mind and coldness of heartor lack of erudition have taken this lowest task upon myself; it isstill a Christian idea to think all work good that is done with piouszeal. We bring along the bricks, but to build the temple of God. ' He does not want to be intractable. Let the Vulgate be kept for use inthe liturgy, for sermons, in schools, but he who, at home, reads ouredition, will understand his own the better in consequence. He, Erasmus, is prepared to render account and acknowledge himself to have been wrongwhen convicted of error. Erasmus perhaps never quite realized how much his philological-criticalmethod must shake the foundations of the Church. He was surprised at hisadversaries 'who could not but believe that all their authority wouldperish at once when the sacred books might be read in a purified form, and when people tried to understand them in the original'. He did notfeel what the unassailable authority of a sacred book meant. He rejoicesbecause Holy Scripture is approached so much more closely, because allsorts of shadings are brought to light by considering not only what issaid but also by whom, for whom, at what time, on what occasion, whatprecedes and what follows, in short, by the method of historicalphilological criticism. To him it seemed so especially pious whenreading Scripture and coming across a place which seemed contrary to thedoctrine of Christ or the divinity of his nature, to believe rather thatone did not understand the phrase _or that the text might be corrupt_. Unperceived he passed from emendation of the different versions to thecorrection of the contents. The epistles were not all written by theapostles to whom they are attributed. The apostles themselves mademistakes, at times. The foundation of his spiritual life was no longer a unity to Erasmus. It was, on the one hand, a strong desire for an upright, simple, pureand homely belief, the earnest wish to be a good Christian. But it wasalso the irresistible intellectual and aesthetic need of the good taste, the harmony, the clear and exact expression of the Ancients, the dislikeof what was cumbrous and involved. Erasmus thought that good learningmight render good service for the necessary purification of the faithand its forms. The measure of church hymns should be corrected. ThatChristian expression and classicism were incompatible, he neverbelieved. The man who in the sphere of sacred studies asked every authorfor his credentials remained unconscious of the fact that heacknowledged the authority of the Ancients without any evidence. Hownaïvely he appeals to Antiquity, again and again, to justify some boldfeat! He is critical, they say? Were not the Ancients critical? Hepermits himself to insert digressions? So did the Ancients, etc. Erasmus is in profound sympathy with that revered Antiquity by hisfundamental conviction that it is the practice of life which matters. Not he is the great philosopher who knows the tenets of the Stoics orPeripatetics by rote--but he who expresses the meaning of philosophy byhis life and his morals, for that is its purpose. He is truly a divinewho teaches, not by artful syllogisms, but by his disposition, by hisface and his eyes, by his life itself, that wealth should be despised. To live up to that standard is what Christ himself calls _Renascentia_. Erasmus uses the word in the Christian sense only. But in that sense itis closely allied to the idea of the Renaissance as a historicalphenomenon. The worldly and pagan sides of the Renaissance have nearlyalways been overrated. Erasmus is, much more than Aretino orCastiglione, the representative of the spirit of his age, one over whoseChristian sentiment the sweet gale of Antiquity had passed. And thatvery union of strong Christian endeavour and the spirit of Antiquity isthe explanation of Erasmus's wonderful success. * * * * * The mere intention and the contents of the mind do not influence theworld, if the form of expression does not cooperate. In Erasmus thequality of his talent is a very important factor. His perfect clearnessand ease of expression, his liveliness, wit, imagination, gusto andhumour have lent a charm to all he wrote which to his contemporaries wasirresistible and captivates even us, as soon as we read him. In all thatconstitutes his talent, Erasmus is perfectly and altogether arepresentative of the Renaissance. There is, in the first place, hiseternal _à propos_. What he writes is never vague, never dark--it isalways plausible. Everything seemingly flows of itself like a fountain. It always rings true as to tone, turn of phrase and accent. It hasalmost the light harmony of Ariosto. And it is, like Ariosto, nevertragic, never truly heroic. It carries us away, indeed, but it is neveritself truly enraptured. The more artistic aspects of Erasmus's talent come out mostclearly--though they are everywhere in evidence--in those tworecreations after more serious labour, the _Moriae Encomium_ and the_Colloquia_. But just those two have been of enormous importance for hisinfluence upon his times. For while Jerome reached tens of readers andthe New Testament hundreds, the _Moria_ and _Colloquies_ went out tothousands. And their importance is heightened in that Erasmus hasnowhere else expressed himself so spontaneously. In each of the Colloquies, even in the first purely formulary ones, there is the sketch for a comedy, a novelette or a satire. There ishardly a sentence without its 'point', an expression without a vividfancy. There are unrivalled niceties. The abbot of the _Abbatis eteruditae colloquium_ is a Molière character. It should be noticed howwell Erasmus always sustains his characters and his scenes, because he_sees_ them. In 'The woman in childbed' he never forgets for a momentthat Eutrapelus is an artist. At the end of 'The game of knucklebones', when the interlocutors, after having elucidated the whole nomenclatureof the Latin game of knuckle-bones, are going to play themselves, Carolus says: 'but shut the door first, lest the cook should see usplaying like two boys'. As Holbein illustrated the _Moria_, we should wish to possess the_Colloquia_ with illustrations by Brueghel, so closely allied isErasmus's witty clear vision of incidents to that of this great master. The procession of drunkards on Palm Sunday, the saving of theshipwrecked crew, the old men waiting for the travelling cart while thedrivers are still drinking, all these are Dutch genre pieces of the bestsort. We like to speak of the realism of the Renaissance. Erasmus is certainlya realist in the sense of having an insatiable hunger for knowledge ofthe tangible world. He wants to know things and their names: theparticulars of each thing, be it never so remote, such as those terms ofgames and rules of games of the Romans. Read carefully the descriptionof the decorative painting on the garden-house of the _Conviviumreligiosum_: it is nothing but an object lesson, a graphicrepresentation of the forms of reality. In its joy over the material universe and the supple, pliant word, theRenaissance revels in a profusion of imagery and expressions. Theresounding enumerations of names and things, which Rabelais alwaysgives, are not unknown to Erasmus, but he uses them for intellectual anduseful purposes. In _De copia verborum ac rerum_ one feat of variedpower of expression succeeds another--he gives fifty ways of saying:'Your letter has given me much pleasure, ' or, 'I think that it is goingto rain'. The aesthetic impulse is here that of a theme and variations:to display all the wealth and mutations of the logic of language. Elsewhere, too, Erasmus indulges this proclivity for accumulating thetreasures of his genius; he and his contemporaries can never restrainthemselves from giving all the instances instead of one: in _Ratio veraetheologiae_, in _De pronuntiatione_, in _Lingua_, in _Ecclesiastes_. Thecollections of _Adagia_, _Parabolae_, and _Apophthegmata_ are altogetherbased on this eagerness of the Renaissance (which, by the way, was aninheritance of the Middle Ages themselves) to luxuriate in the wealth ofthe tangible world, to revel in words and things. The senses are open for the nice observation of the curious. ThoughErasmus does not know that need of proving the secrets of nature, whichinspired a Leonardo da Vinci, a Paracelsus, a Vesalius, he is also, byhis keen observation, a child of his time. For peculiarities in thehabits and customs of nations he has an open eye. He notices the gait ofSwiss soldiers, how dandies sit, how Picards pronounce French. Henotices that in old pictures the sitters are always represented withhalf-closed eyes and tightly shut lips, as signs of modesty, and howsome Spaniards still honour this expression in life, while German artprefers lips pouting as for a kiss. His lively sense of anecdote, towhich he gives the rein in all his writings, belongs here. And, in spite of all his realism, the world which Erasmus sees andrenders, is not altogether that of the sixteenth century. Everything isveiled by Latin. Between the author's mind and reality intervenes hisantique diction. At bottom the world of his mind is imaginary. It is asubdued and limited sixteenth-century reality which he reflects. Together with its coarseness he lacks all that is violent and direct inhis times. Compared with the artists, with Luther and Calvin, with thestatesmen, the navigators, the soldiers and the scientists, Erasmusconfronts the world as a recluse. It is only the influence of Latin. Inspite of all his receptiveness and sensitiveness, Erasmus is never fullyin contact with life. All through his work not a bird sings, not a windrustles. But that reserve or fear of directness is not merely a negative quality. It also results from a consciousness of the indefiniteness of the groundof all things, from the awe of the ambiguity of all that is. If Erasmusso often hovers over the borderline between earnestness and mockery, ifhe hardly ever gives an incisive conclusion, it is not only due tocautiousness, and fear to commit himself. Everywhere he sees theshadings, the blending of the meaning of words. The terms of things areno longer to him, as to the man of the Middle Ages, as crystals mountedin gold, or as stars in the firmament. 'I like assertions so little thatI would easily take sides with the sceptics whereever it is allowed bythe inviolable authority of Holy Scripture and the decrees of theChurch. ' 'What is exempt from error?' All subtle contentions oftheological speculation arise from a dangerous curiosity and lead toimpious audacity. What have all the great controversies about theTrinity and the Virgin Mary profited? 'We have defined so much thatwithout danger to our salvation might have remained unknown orundecided.... The essentials of our religion are peace and unanimity. These can hardly exist unless we make definitions about as few points aspossible and leave many questions to individual judgement. Numerousproblems are now postponed till the oecumenical Council. It would bemuch better to put off such questions till the time when the glass shallbe removed and the darkness cleared away, and we shall see God face toface. ' 'There are sanctuaries in the sacred studies which God has not willedthat we should probe, and if we try to penetrate there, we grope in everdeeper darkness the farther we proceed, so that we recognize, in thismanner, too, the inscrutable majesty of divine wisdom and the imbecilityof human understanding. ' CHAPTER XIV ERASMUS'S CHARACTER Erasmus's character: Need of purity and cleanliness-- Delicacy--Dislike of contention, need of concord and friendship--Aversion to disturbance of any kind--Too much concerned about other men's opinions--Need of self- justification--Himself never in the wrong--Correlation between inclinations and convictions--Ideal image of himself--Dissatisfaction with himself--Self-centredness--A solitary at heart--Fastidiousness--Suspiciousness--Morbid mistrust--Unhappiness--Restlessness--Unsolved contradictions of his being--Horror of lies--Reserve and insinuation Erasmus's powerful mind met with a great response in the heart of hiscontemporaries and had a lasting influence on the march of civilization. But one of the heroes of history he cannot be called. Was not hisfailure to attain to still loftier heights partly due to the fact thathis character was not on a level with the elevation of his mind? And yet that character, a very complicated one, though he took himselfto be the simplest man in the world, was determined by the same factorswhich determined the structure of his mind. Again and again we find inhis inclinations the correlates of his convictions. At the root of his moral being we find--a key to the understanding ofhis character--that same profound need of purity which drove him to thesources of sacred science. Purity in the material and the moral sense iswhat he desires for himself and others, always and in all things. Fewthings revolt him so much as the practices of vintners who doctor wineand dealers who adulterate food. If he continually chastens his languageand style, or exculpates himself from mistakes, it is the same impulsewhich prompts his passionate desire for cleanliness and brightness, ofthe home and of the body. He has a violent dislike of stuffy air andsmelly substances. He regularly takes a roundabout way to avoid amalodorous lane; he loathes shambles and fishmongers' shops. Fetorsspread infection, he thinks. Erasmus had, earlier than most people, antiseptic ideas about the danger of infection in the foul air ofcrowded inns, in the breath of confessants, in baptismal water. Throwaside common cups, he pleaded; let everybody shave himself, let us becleanly as to bed-sheets, let us not kiss each other by way of greeting. The fear of the horrible venereal disease, imported into Europe duringhis lifetime, and of which Erasmus watched the unbridled propagationwith solicitude, increases his desire for purity. Too little is beingdone to stop it, he thinks. He cautions against suspected inns; he wantsto have measures taken against the marriages of syphilitic persons. Inhis undignified attitude towards Hutten his physical and moral aversionto the man's evil plays an unmistakable part. Erasmus is a delicate soul in all his fibres. His body forces him to bethat. He is highly sensitive, among other things very susceptible tocold, 'the scholars' disorder', as he calls it. Early in life alreadythe painful malady of the stone begins to torment him, which he resistedso bravely when his work was at stake. He always speaks in a coddlingtone about his little body, which cannot stand fasting, which must bekept fit by some exercise, namely riding, and for which he carefullytries to select a suitable climate. He is at times circumstantial in thedescription of his ailments. [15] He has to be very careful in the matterof his sleep; if once he wakes up, he finds it difficult to go to sleepagain, and because of that has often to lose the morning, the best timeto work and which is so dear to him. He cannot stand cold, wind and fog, but still less overheated rooms. How he has execrated the German stoves, which are burned nearly all the year through and made Germany almostunbearable to him! Of his fear of illness we have spoken above. It isnot only the plague which he flees--for fear of catching cold he givesup a journey from Louvain to Antwerp, where his friend Peter Gilles isin mourning. Although he realizes quite well that 'often a great deal ofthe disease is in the imagination', yet his own imagination leaves himno peace. Nevertheless, when he is seriously ill he does not fear death. His hygienics amount to temperance, cleanliness and fresh air, this lastitem in moderation: he takes the vicinity of the sea to be unwholesomeand is afraid of draughts. His friend Gilles, who is ill, he advises:'Do not take too much medicine, keep quiet and do not get angry'. Thoughthere is a 'Praise of Medicine' among his works, he does not thinkhighly of physicians and satirizes them more than once in the_Colloquies_. Also in his outward appearance there were certain features betraying hisdelicacy. He was of medium height, well-made, of a fair complexion withblond hair and blue eyes, a cheerful face, a very articulate mode ofspeech, but a thin voice. In the moral sphere Erasmus's delicacy is represented by his great needof friendship and concord, his dislike of contention. With him peace andharmony rank above all other considerations, and he confesses them to bethe guiding principles of his actions. He would, if it might be, haveall the world as a friend. 'Wittingly I discharge no one from myfriendship, ' he says. And though he was sometimes capricious andexacting towards his friends, yet a truly great friend he was: witnessthe many who never forsook him, or whom he, after a temporaryestrangement, always won back--More, Peter Gilles, Fisher, Ammonius, Budaeus, and others too numerous to mention. 'He was most constant inkeeping up friendships, ' says Beatus Rhenanus, whose own attachment toErasmus is a proof of the strong affection he could inspire. At the root of this desire of friendship lies a great and sincere needof affection. Remember the effusions of almost feminine affectiontowards Servatius during his monastic period. But at the same time it isa sort of moral serenity that makes him so: an aversion to disturbance, to whatever is harsh and inharmonious. He calls it 'a certain occultnatural sense' which makes him abhor strife. He cannot abide being atloggerheads with anyone. He always hoped and wanted, he says, to keephis pen unbloody, to attack no one, to provoke no one, even if he wereattacked. But his enemies had not willed it, and in later years hebecame well accustomed to bitter polemics, with Lefèvre d'Étaples, withLee, with Egmondanus, with Hutten, with Luther, with Beda, with theSpaniards, and the Italians. At first it is still noticeable how hesuffers by it, how contention wounds him, so that he cannot bear thepain in silence. 'Do let us be friends again, ' he begs Lefèvre, who doesnot reply. The time which he had to devote to his polemics he regards aslost. 'I feel myself getting more heavy every day, ' he writes in 1520, 'not so much on account of my age as because of the restless labour ofmy studies, nay more even by the weariness of disputes than by the work, which, in itself, is agreeable. ' And how much strife was still in storefor him then! If only Erasmus had been less concerned about public opinion! But thatseemed impossible: he had a fear of men, or, we may call it, a ferventneed of justification. He would always see beforehand, and usually inexaggerated colours, the effect his word or deed would have upon men. Ofhimself, it was certainly true as he once wrote: that the craving forfame has less sharp spurs than the fear of ignominy. Erasmus is withRousseau among those who cannot bear the consciousness of guilt, out ofa sort of mental cleanliness. Not to be able to repay a benefit withinterest, makes him ashamed and sad. He cannot abide 'dunning creditors, unperformed duty, neglect of the need of a friend'. If he cannotdischarge the obligation, he explains it away. The Dutch historian Fruinhas quite correctly observed: 'Whatever Erasmus did contrary to his dutyand his rightly understood interests was the fault of circumstances orwrong advice; he is never to blame himself'. And what he has thusjustified for himself becomes with him universal law: 'God relievespeople of pernicious vows, if only they repent of them, ' says the manwho himself had broken a vow. There is in Erasmus a dangerous fusion between inclination andconviction. The correlations between his idiosyncrasies and his preceptsare undeniable. This has special reference to his point of view in thematter of fasting and abstinence from meat. He too frequently vents hisown aversion to fish, or talks of his inability to postpone meals, notto make this connection clear to everybody. In the same way his personalexperience in the monastery passes into his disapproval, on principle, of monastic life. The distortion of the image of his youth in his memory, to which we havereferred, is based on that need of self-justification. It is allunconscious interpretation of the undeniable facts to suit the idealwhich Erasmus had made of himself and to which he honestly thinks heanswers. The chief features of that self-conceived picture are aremarkable, simple sincerity and frankness, which make it impossible tohim to dissemble; inexperience and carelessness in the ordinary concernsof life and a total lack of ambition. All this is true in the firstinstance: there is a superficial Erasmus who answers to that image, butit is not the whole Erasmus; there is a deeper one who is almost theopposite and whom he himself does not know because he will not know him. Possibly because behind this there is a still deeper being, which istruly good. Does he not ascribe weaknesses to himself? Certainly. He is, in spite ofhis self-coddling, ever dissatisfied with himself and his work. _Putidulus_, he calls himself, meaning the quality of never beingcontent with himself. It is that peculiarity which makes himdissatisfied with any work of his directly after it has appeared, sothat he always keeps revising and supplementing. 'Pusillanimous' hecalls himself in writing to Colet. But again he cannot help givinghimself credit for acknowledging that quality, nay, converting thatquality itself into a virtue: it is modesty, the opposite of boastingand self-love. This bashfulness about himself is the reason that he does not love hisown physiognomy, and is only persuaded with difficulty by his friends tosit for a portrait. His own appearance is not heroic or dignified enoughfor him, and he is not duped by an artist who flatters him: 'Heigh-ho, 'he exclaims, on seeing Holbein's thumbnail sketch illustrating the_Moria_: 'if Erasmus still looked like that, he would take a wife atonce'. It is that deep trait of dissatisfaction that suggests theinscription on his portraits: 'his writings will show you a betterimage'. Erasmus's modesty and the contempt which he displays of the fame thatfell to his lot are of a somewhat rhetorical character. But in this weshould not so much see a personal trait of Erasmus as a general formcommon to all humanists. On the other hand, this mood cannot be calledaltogether artificial. His books, which he calls his children, have notturned out well. He does not think they will live. He does not set storeby his letters: he publishes them because his friends insist upon it. Hewrites his poems to try a new pen. He hopes that geniuses will soonappear who will eclipse him, so that Erasmus will pass for a stammerer. What is fame? A pagan survival. He is fed up with it to repletion andwould do nothing more gladly than cast it off. Sometimes another note escapes him. If Lee would help him in hisendeavours, Erasmus would make him immortal, he had told the former intheir first conversation. And he threatens an unknown adversary, 'If yougo on so impudently to assail my good name, then take care that mygentleness does not give way and I cause you to be ranked, after athousand years, among the venomous sycophants, among the idle boasters, among the incompetent physicians'. The self-centred element in Erasmus must needs increase accordingly ashe in truth became a centre and objective point of ideas and culture. There really was a time when it must seem to him that the world hingedupon him, and that it awaited the redeeming word from him. What awidespread enthusiastic following he had, how many warm friends andvenerators! There is something naïve in the way in which he thinks itrequisite to treat all his friends, in an open letter, to a detailed, rather repellent account of an illness that attacked him on the way backfrom Basle to Louvain. _His_ part, _his_ position, _his_ name, this moreand more becomes the aspect under which he sees world-events. Years willcome in which his whole enormous correspondence is little more than oneprotracted self-defence. Yet this man who has so many friends is nevertheless solitary at heart. And in the depth of that heart he desires to be alone. He is of a mostretiring disposition; he is _a recluse_. 'I have always wished to bealone, and there is nothing I hate so much as sworn partisans. ' Erasmusis one of those whom contact with others weakens. The less he has toaddress and to consider others, friends or enemies, the more truly heutters his deepest soul. Intercourse with particular people alwayscauses little scruples in him, intentional amenities, coquetry, reticences, reserves, spiteful hits, evasions. Therefore it should notbe thought that we get to know him to the core from his letters. Natureslike his, which all contact with men unsettles, give their best anddeepest when they speak impersonally and to all. After the early effusions of sentimental affection he no longer openshis heart unreservedly to others. At bottom he feels separated from alland on the alert towards all. There is a great fear in him that otherswill touch his soul or disturb the image he has made of himself. Theattitude of warding off reveals itself as fastidiousness and asbashfulness. Budaeus hit the mark when he exclaimed jocularly:'_Fastidiosule!_ You little fastidious person!' Erasmus himselfinterprets the dominating trait of his being as maidenly coyness. Theexcessive sensitiveness to the stain attaching to his birth results fromit. But his friend Ammonius speaks of his _subrustica verecundia_, hissomewhat rustic _gaucherie_. There is, indeed, often something of thesmall man about Erasmus, who is hampered by greatness and thereforeshuns the great, because, at bottom, they obsess him and he feels themto be inimical to his being. It seems a hard thing to say that genuine loyalty and ferventgratefulness were strange to Erasmus. And yet such was his nature. Incharacters like his a kind of mental cramp keeps back the effusions ofthe heart. He subscribes to the adage: 'Love so, as if you may hate oneday, and hate so, as if you may love one day'. He cannot bear benefits. In his inmost soul he continually retires before everybody. He whoconsiders himself the pattern of simple unsuspicion, is indeed in thehighest degree suspicious towards all his friends. The dead Ammonius, who had helped him so zealously in the most delicate concerns, is notsecure from it. 'You are always unfairly distrustful towards me, 'Budaeus complains. 'What!' exclaims Erasmus, 'you will find few peoplewho are so little distrustful in friendship as myself. ' When at the height of his fame the attention of the world was indeedfixed on all he spoke or did, there was some ground for a certainfeeling on his part of being always watched and threatened. But when hewas yet an unknown man of letters, in his Parisian years, we continuallyfind traces in him of a mistrust of the people about him that can onlybe regarded as a morbid feeling. During the last period of his life thisfeeling attaches especially to two enemies, Eppendorf and Aleander. Eppendorf employs spies everywhere who watch Erasmus's correspondencewith his friends. Aleander continually sets people to combat him, andlies in wait for him wherever he can. His interpretation of theintentions of his assailants has the ingenious self-centred elementwhich passes the borderline of sanity. He sees the whole world full ofcalumny and ambuscades threatening his peace: nearly all those who oncewere his best friends have become his bitterest enemies; they wag theirvenomous tongues at banquets, in conversation, in the confessional, insermons, in lectures, at court, in vehicles and ships. The minorenemies, like troublesome vermin, drive him to weariness of life, or todeath by insomnia. He compares his tortures to the martyrdom of SaintSebastian, pierced by arrows. But his is worse, for there is no end toit. For years he has daily been dying a thousand deaths and that alone;for his friends, if such there are, are deterred by envy. He mercilessly pillories his patrons in a row for their stinginess. Nowand again there suddenly comes to light an undercurrent of aversion andhatred which we did not suspect. Where had more good things fallen tohis lot than in England? Which country had he always praised more? Butsuddenly a bitter and unfounded reproach escapes him. England isresponsible for his having become faithless to his monastic vows, 'forno other reason do I hate Britain more than for this, though it hasalways been pestilent to me'. He seldom allows himself to go so far. His expressions of hatred orspite are, as a rule, restricted to the feline. They are aimed atfriends and enemies, Budaeus, Lypsius, as well as Hutten and Beda. Occasionally we are struck by the expression of coarse pleasure atanother's misfortune. But in all this, as regards malice, we should notmeasure Erasmus by our ideas of delicacy and gentleness. Compared withmost of his contemporaries he remains moderate and refined. * * * * * Erasmus never felt happy, was never content. This may perhaps surpriseus for a moment, when we think of his cheerful, never-failing energy, ofhis gay jests and his humour. But upon reflection this unhappy feelingtallies very well with his character. It also proceeds from his generalattitude of warding off. Even when in high spirits he considers himselfin all respects an unhappy man. 'The most miserable of all men, thethrice-wretched Erasmus, ' he calls himself in fine Greek terms. His life'is an Iliad of calamities, a chain of misfortunes. How can anyone envy_me_?' To no one has Fortune been so constantly hostile as to him. Shehas sworn his destruction, thus he sang in his youth in a poeticalcomplaint addressed to Gaguin: from earliest infancy the same sad andhard fate has been constantly pursuing him. Pandora's whole box seems tohave been poured out over him. This unhappy feeling takes the special form of his having been chargedby unlucky stars with Herculean labour, without profit or pleasure tohimself:[16] troubles and vexations without end. His life might havebeen so much easier if he had taken his chances. He should never haveleft Italy; or he ought to have stayed in England. 'But an immoderatelove of liberty caused me to wrestle long with faithless friends andinveterate poverty. ' Elsewhere he says more resignedly: 'But we aredriven by fate'. That immoderate love of liberty had indeed been as fate to him. He hadalways been the great seeker of quiet and liberty who found liberty lateand quiet never. By no means ever to bind himself, to incur noobligations which might become fetters--again that fear of theentanglements of life. Thus he remained the great restless one. He wasnever truly satisfied with anything, least of all with what he producedhimself. 'Why, then, do you overwhelm us with so many books', someone atLouvain objected, 'if you do not really approve of any of them?' AndErasmus answers with Horace's word: 'In the first place, because Icannot sleep'. A sleepless energy, it was that indeed. He cannot rest. Still halfseasick and occupied with his trunks, he is already thinking about ananswer to Dorp's letter, just received, censuring the _Moria_. We shouldfully realize what it means that time after time Erasmus, who, bynature, loved quiet and was fearful, and fond of comfort, cleanlinessand good fare, undertakes troublesome and dangerous journeys, evenvoyages, which he detests, for the sake of his work and of that alone. He is not only restless, but also precipitate. Helped by an incomparablyretentive and capacious memory he writes at haphazard. He never becomesanacoluthic; his talent is too refined and sure for that; but he doesrepeat himself and is unnecessarily circumstantial. 'I rather pour outthan write everything, ' he says. He compares his publications toparturitions, nay, to abortions. He does not select his subjects, hetumbles into them, and having once taken up a subject he finisheswithout intermission. For years he has read only _tumultuarie_, up anddown all literature; he no longer finds time really to refresh his mindby reading, and to work so as to please himself. On that account heenvied Budaeus. 'Do not publish too hastily, ' More warns him: 'you are watched to becaught in inexactitudes. ' Erasmus knows it: he will correct all later, he will ever have to revise and to polish everything. He hates thelabour of revising and correcting, but he submits to it, and workspassionately, 'in the treadmill of Basle', and, he says, finishes thework of six years in eight months. In that recklessness and precipitation with which Erasmus labours thereis again one of the unsolved contradictions of his being. He _is_precipitate and careless; he _wants_ to be careful and cautious; hismind drives him to be the first, his nature restrains him, but usuallyonly after the word has been written and published. The result is acontinual intermingling of explosion and reserve. The way in which Erasmus always tries to shirk definite statementsirritates us. How carefully he always tries to represent the_Colloquies_, in which he had spontaneously revealed so much of hisinner convictions, as mere trifling committed to paper to please hisfriends. They are only meant to teach correct Latin! And if anything issaid in them touching matters of faith, it is not I who say it, is it?As often as he censures classes or offices in the _Adagia_, princesabove all, he warns the readers not to regard his words as aimed atparticular persons. Erasmus was a master of reserve. He knew, even when he held definiteviews, how to avoid direct decisions, not only from caution, but alsobecause he saw the eternal ambiguity of human issues. Erasmus ascribes to himself an unusual horror of lies. On seeing a liar, he says, he was corporeally affected. As a boy he already violentlydisliked mendacious boys, such as the little braggart of whom he tellsin the _Colloquies_. That this reaction of aversion is genuine is notcontradicted by the fact that we catch Erasmus himself in untruths. Inconsistencies, flattery, pieces of cunning, white lies, serioussuppression of facts, simulated sentiments of respect or sorrow--theymay all be pointed out in his letters. He once disavowed his deepestconviction for a gratuity from Anne of Borselen by flattering herbigotry. He requested his best friend Batt to tell lies in his behalf. He most sedulously denied his authorship of the Julius dialogue, forfear of the consequences, even to More, and always in such a way as toavoid saying outright, 'I did not write it'. Those who know otherhumanists, and know how frequently and impudently they lied, willperhaps think more lightly of Erasmus's sins. For the rest, even during his lifetime he did not escape punishment forhis eternal reserve, his proficiency in semi-conclusions and veiledtruths, insinuations and slanderous allusions. The accusation of perfidywas often cast in his teeth, sometimes in serious indignation. 'You arealways engaged in bringing suspicion upon others, ' Edward Lee exclaims. 'How dare you usurp the office of a general censor, and condemn what youhave hardly ever tasted? How dare you despise all but yourself? Falselyand insultingly do you expose your antagonist in the _Colloquia_. ' Leequotes the spiteful passage referring to himself, and then exclaims:'Now from these words the world may come to know its divine, its censor, its modest and sincere author, that Erasmian diffidence, earnest, decency and honesty! Erasmian modesty has long been proverbial. You arealways using the words "false accusations". You say: if I wasconsciously guilty of the smallest of all his (Lee's) false accusations, I should not dare to approach the Lord's table!--O man, who are you, tojudge another, a servant who stands or falls before his Lord?' This was the first violent attack from the conservative side, in thebeginning of 1520, when the mighty struggle which Luther's action hadunchained kept the world in ever greater suspense. Six months laterfollowed the first serious reproaches on the part of radical reformers. Ulrich von Hutten, the impetuous, somewhat foggy-headed knight, whowanted to see Luther's cause triumph as the national cause of Germany, turns to Erasmus, whom, at one time, he had enthusiastically acclaimedas the man of the new weal, with the urgent appeal not to forsake thecause of the reformation or to compromise it. 'You have shown yourselffearful in the affair of Reuchlin; now in that of Luther you do yourutmost to convince his adversaries that you are altogether averse fromit, though we know better. Do not disown us. You know how triumphantlycertain letters of yours are circulated, in which, to protect yourselffrom suspicion, you rather meanly fasten it on others ... If you are nowafraid to incur a little hostility for _my_ sake, concede me at leastthat you will not allow yourself, out of fear for another, to be temptedto renounce me; rather be silent about me. ' Those were bitter reproaches. In the man who had to swallow them therewas a puny Erasmus who deserved those reproaches, who took offence atthem, but did not take them to heart, who continued to act with prudentreserve till Hutten's friendship was turned to hatred. In him was also agreat Erasmus who knew how, under the passion and infatuation with whichthe parties combated each other, the Truth he sought, and the Love hehoped would subdue the world, were obscured; who knew the God whom heprofessed too high to take sides. Let us try ever to see of that greatErasmus as much as the petty one permits. FOOTNOTES: [15] Cf. The letter to Beatus Rhenanus, pp. 227-8. [16] Ad. 2001 LB. II, 717B, 77 c. 58A. On the book which Erasmus holdsin his hand in Holbein's portrait at Longford Castle, we read in Greek:The Labours of Hercules. CHAPTER XV AT LOUVAIN 1517-18 Erasmus at Louvain, 1517--He expects the renovation of the Church as the fruit of good learning--Controversy with Lefèvre d'Étaples--Second journey to Basle, 1518--He revises the edition of the New Testament--Controversies with Latomus, Briard and Lee--Erasmus regards the opposition of conservative theology merely as a conspiracy against good learning When Erasmus established himself at Louvain in the summer of 1517 he hada vague presentiment that great changes were at hand. 'I fear', hewrites in September, 'that a great subversion of affairs is beingbrought about here, if God's favour and the piety and wisdom of princesdo not concern themselves about human matters. ' But the forms which thatgreat change would assume he did not in the least realize. He regarded his removal as merely temporary. It was only to last 'tillwe shall have seen which place of residence is best fit for old age, which is already knocking'. There is something pathetic in the man whodesires nothing but quiet and liberty, and who through his ownrestlessness, and his inability not to concern himself about otherpeople, never found a really fixed abode or true independence. Erasmusis one of those people who always seem to say: tomorrow, tomorrow! Imust first deal with this, and then ... As soon as he shall be readywith the new edition of the New Testament and shall have extricatedhimself from troublesome and disagreeable theological controversies, inwhich he finds himself entangled against his wish, he will sleep, hidehimself, 'sing for himself and the Muses'. But that time never came. Where to live when he shall be free? Spain, to which Cardinal Ximenescalled him, did not appeal to him. From Germany, he says, the stoves andthe insecurity deter him. In England the servitude which was required ofhim there revolted him. But in the Netherlands themselves, he did notfeel at his ease, either: 'Here I am barked at a great deal, and thereis no remuneration; though I desired it ever so much, I could not bearto stay there long'. Yet he remained for four years. Erasmus had good friends in the University of Louvain. At first he putup with his old host Johannes Paludanus, Rhetor of the University, whosehouse he exchanged that summer for quarters in the College of the Lily. Martin Dorp, a Dutchman like himself, had not been estranged from him bytheir polemics about the _Moria_; his good will was of great importanceto Erasmus, because of the important place Dorp occupied in thetheological faculty. And lastly, though his old patron, Adrian ofUtrecht, afterwards Pope, had by that time been called away from Louvainto higher dignities, his influence had not diminished in consequence, but rather increased; for just about that time he had been made acardinal. Erasmus was received with great complaisance by the Louvain divines. Their leader, the vice-chancellor of the University, Jean Briard of Ath, repeatedly expressed his approval of the edition of the New Testament, to Erasmus's great satisfaction. Soon Erasmus found himself a member ofthe theological faculty. Yet he did not feel at his ease among theLouvain theologians. The atmosphere was a great deal less congenial tohim than that of the world of the English scholars. Here he felt aspirit which he did not understand and distrusted in consequence. In the years in which the Reformation began, Erasmus was the victim of agreat misunderstanding, the result of the fact that his delicate, aesthetic, hovering spirit understood neither the profoundest depths ofthe faith nor the hard necessities of human society. He was neithermystic nor realist. Luther was both. To Erasmus the great problem ofChurch and State and society, seemed simple. Nothing was required butrestoration and purification by a return to the original, unspoiltsources of Christianity. A number of accretions to the faith, ratherridiculous than revolting, had to be cleared away. All should be reducedto the nucleus of faith, Christ and the Gospel. Forms, ceremonies, speculations should make room for the practice of true piety. The Gospelwas easily intelligible to everybody and within everybody's reach. Andthe means to reach all this was good learning, _bonae literae_. Had henot himself, by his editions of the New Testament and of Jerome, andeven earlier by the now famous _Enchiridion_, done most of what had tobe done? 'I hope that what now pleases the upright, will soon pleaseall. ' As early as the beginning of 1517 Erasmus had written to WolfgangFabricius Capito, in the tone of one who has accomplished the greattask. 'Well then, take you the torch from us. The work will henceforthbe a great deal easier and cause far less hatred and envy. _We_ havelived through the first shock. ' Budaeus writes to Tunstall in May 1517: 'Was anyone born under suchinauspicious Graces that the dull and obscure discipline (scholasticism)does not revolt him, since sacred literature, too, cleansed by Erasmus'sdiligence, has regained its ancient purity and brightness? But it isstill much greater that he should have effected by the same labour theemergence of sacred truth itself out of that Cimmerian darkness, eventhough divinity is not yet quite free from the dirt of the sophistschool. If that should occur one day, it will be owing to the beginningsmade in our times. ' The philologist Budaeus believed even more firmlythan Erasmus that faith was a matter of erudition. It could not but vex Erasmus that not everyone accepted the cleansedtruth at once. How could people continue to oppose themselves to what, to him, seemed as clear as daylight and so simple? He, who so sincerelywould have liked to live in peace with all the world, found himselfinvolved in a series of polemics. To let the opposition of opponentspass unnoticed was forbidden not only by his character, for everstriving to justify himself in the eyes of the world, but also by thecustom of his time, so eager for dispute. There were, first of all, his polemics with Jacques Lefèvre d'Étaples, or in Latinized form, Faber Stapulensis, the Parisian theologian, who asa preparer of the Reformation may, more than anyone else, be ranked withErasmus. At the moment when Erasmus got into the travelling cart whichwas to take him to Louvain, a friend drew his attention to a passage inthe new edition of Faber's commentary on St. Paul's epistles, in whichhe controverted Erasmus's note on the Second Epistle to the Hebrews, verse 7. Erasmus at once bought Faber's book, and soon published an_Apologia_. It concerned Christ's relation to God and the angels, butthe dogmatic point at issue hinged, after all, on a philologicalinterpretation of Erasmus. Not yet accustomed to much direct wrangling, Erasmus was violentlyagitated by the matter, the more as he esteemed Faber highly andconsidered him a congenial spirit. 'What on earth has occurred to theman? Have others set him on against me? All theologians agree that I amright, ' he asserts. It makes him nervous that Faber does not reply againat once. Badius has told Peter Gilles that Faber is sorry about it. Erasmus in a dignified letter appeals to their friendship; he willsuffer himself to be taught and censured. Then again he growls: Let himbe careful. And he thinks that his controversy with Faber keeps theworld in suspense: there is not a meal at which the guests do not sidewith one or the other of them. But finally the combat abated and thefriendship was preserved. Towards Easter 1518, Erasmus contemplated a new journey to Basle, thereto pass through the press, during a few months of hard labour, thecorrected edition of the New Testament. He did not fail to request thechiefs of conservative divinity at Louvain beforehand to state theirobjections to his work. Briard of Ath declared he had found nothingoffensive in it, after he had first been told all sorts of bad thingsabout it. 'Then the new edition will please you much better, ' Erasmushad said. His friend Dorp and James Latomus, also one of the chiefdivines, had expressed themselves in the same sense, and the CarmeliteNicholas of Egmond had said that he had never read Erasmus's work. Onlya young Englishman, Edward Lee, who was studying Greek at Louvain, hadsummarized a number of criticisms into ten conclusions. Erasmus had gotrid of the matter by writing to Lee that he had not been able to gethold of his conclusions and therefore could not make use of them. Buthis youthful critic had not put up with being slighted so, and workedout his objections in a more circumstantial treatise. [Illustration: XVII. VIEW OF BASLE, 1548] Thus Erasmus set out for Basle once more in May 1518. He had beenobliged to ask all his English friends (of whom Ammonius had been takenfrom him by death in 1517) for support to defray the expenses of thejourney; he kept holding out to them the prospect that, after his workwas finished, he would return to England. In a letter to Martin Lypsius, as he was going up the Rhine, he answered Lee's criticism, which hadirritated him extremely. In revising his edition he not only took it butlittle into account, but ventured, moreover, this time to print his owntranslation of the New Testament of 1506 without any alterations. At thesame time he obtained for the new edition a letter of approval from thePope, a redoubtable weapon against his cavillers. At Basle Erasmus worked again like a horse in a treadmill. But he wasreally in his element. Even before the second edition of the NewTestament, the _Enchiridion_ and the _Institutio Principis Christiani_were reprinted by Froben. On his return journey, Erasmus, whose work hadbeen hampered all through the summer by indisposition, and who had, onthat account, been unable to finish it, fell seriously ill. He reachedLouvain with difficulty (21 September 1518). It might be the pestilence, and Erasmus, ever much afraid of contagion himself, now took allprecautions to safeguard his friends against it. He avoided his quartersin the College of the Lily, and found shelter with his most trustedfriend, Dirck Maertensz, the printer. But in spite of rumours of theplague and his warnings, first Dorp and afterwards also Ath came, atonce, to visit him. Evidently the Louvain professors did not mean sobadly by him, after all. [Illustration: XVIII. Title-page of the New Testament printed by Frobenin 1520] But the differences between Erasmus and the Louvain faculty were deeplyrooted. Lee, hurt by the little attention paid by Erasmus to hisobjections, prepared a new critique, but kept it from Erasmus, for thepresent, which irritated the latter and made him nervous. In themeantime a new opponent arose. Directly after his return to Louvain, Erasmus had taken much trouble to promote the establishment of the_Collegium Trilingue_, projected and endowed by Jerome Busleiden, in histestament, to be founded in the university. The three biblicallanguages, Hebrew, Greek and Latin, were to be taught there. Now whenJames Latomus, a member of the theological faculty and a man whom heesteemed, in a dialogue about the study of those three languages and oftheology, doubted the utility of the former, Erasmus judged himselfconcerned, and answered Latomus in an _Apologia_. About the same time(spring 1519) he got into trouble with the vice-chancellor himself. Erasmus thought that Ath had publicly censured him with regard to his'Praise of Marriage', which had recently appeared. Though Ath withdrewat once, Erasmus could not abstain from writing an _Apologia_, howevermoderate. Meanwhile the smouldering quarrel with Lee assumed ever morehateful forms. In vain did Erasmus's English friends attempt to restraintheir young, ambitious compatriot. Erasmus on his part irritated himfurtively. He reveals in this whole dispute a lack of self-control anddignity which shows his weakest side. Usually so anxious as to decorumhe now lapses into invectives: The British adder, Satan, even the oldtaunt ascribing a tail to Englishmen has to serve once more. The pointsat issue disappear altogether behind the bitter mutual reproaches. Inhis unrestrained anger, Erasmus avails himself of the most unworthyweapons. He eggs his German friends on to write against Lee and toridicule him in all his folly and brag, and then he assures all hisEnglish friends: 'All Germany is literally furious with Lee; I have thegreatest trouble in keeping them back'. Alack! Germany had other causes of disturbance: it is 1520 and the threegreat polemics of Luther were setting the world on fire. Though one may excuse the violence and the petty spitefulness of Erasmusin this matter, as resulting from an over-sensitive heart fallingsomewhat short in really manly qualities, yet it is difficult to denythat he failed completely to understand both the arguments of hisadversaries and the great movements of his time. It was very easy for Erasmus to mock the narrow-mindedness ofconservative divines who thought that there would be an end to faith inHoly Scripture as soon as the emendation of the text was attempted. '"They correct the Holy Gospel, nay, the Pater Noster itself!" thepreacher exclaims indignantly in the sermon before his surprisedcongregation. As if I cavilled at Matthew and Luke, and not at thosewho, out of ignorance and carelessness, have corrupted them. What dopeople wish? That the Church should possess Holy Scripture as correct aspossible, or not?' This reasoning seemed to Erasmus, with his passionateneed of purity, a conclusive refutation. But instinct did not deceivehis adversaries, when it told them that doctrine itself was at stake ifthe linguistic judgement of a single individual might decide as to thecorrect version of a text. And Erasmus wished to avoid the inferenceswhich assailed doctrine. He was not aware of the fact that hisconceptions of the Church, the sacraments and the dogmas were no longerpurely Catholic, because they had become subordinated to hisphilological insight. He could not be aware of it because, in spite ofall his natural piety and his fervent ethical sentiments, he lacked themystic insight which is the foundation of every creed. It was this personal lack in Erasmus which made him unable to understandthe real grounds of the resistance of Catholic orthodoxy. How was itpossible that so many, and among them men of high consideration, refusedto accept what to him seemed so clear and irrefutable! He interpretedthe fact in a highly personal way. He, the man who would so gladly havelived in peace with all the world, who so yearned for sympathy andrecognition, and bore enmity with difficulty, saw the ranks of hatersand opponents increase about him. He did not understand how they fearedhis mocking acrimony, how many wore the scar of a wound that the _Moria_had made. That real and supposed hatred troubled Erasmus. He sees hisenemies as a sect. It is especially the Dominicans and the Carmeliteswho are ill-affected towards the new scientific theology. Just then anew adversary had arisen at Louvain in the person of his compatriotNicholas of Egmond, prior of the Carmelites, henceforth an object ofparticular abhorrence to him. It is remarkable that at Louvain Erasmusfound his fiercest opponents in some compatriots, in the narrower senseof the word: Vincent Dirks of Haarlem, William of Vianen, Ruurd Tapper. The persecution increases: the venom of slander spreads more and moreevery day and becomes more deadly; the greatest untruths are impudentlypreached about him; he calls in the help of Ath, the vice-chancellor, against them. But it is no use; the hidden enemies laugh; let him writefor the erudite, who are few; we shall bark to stir up the people. After1520 he writes again and again: 'I am stoned every day'. But Erasmus, however much he might see himself, not without reason, atthe centre, could, in 1519 and 1520, no longer be blind to the fact thatthe great struggle did not concern him alone. On all sides the battlewas being fought. What is it, that great commotion about matters ofspirit and of faith? The answer which Erasmus gave himself was this: it is a great and wilfulconspiracy on the part of the conservatives to suffocate good learningand make the old ignorance triumph. This idea recurs innumerable timesin his letters after the middle of 1518. 'I know quite certainly', hewrites on 21 March 1519 to one of his German friends, 'that thebarbarians on all sides have conspired to leave no stone unturned tillthey have suppressed _bonae literae_. ' 'Here we are still fighting withthe protectors of the old ignorance'; cannot Wolsey persuade the Pope tostop it here? All that appertains to ancient and cultured literature iscalled 'poetry' by those narrow-minded fellows. By that word theyindicate everything that savours of a more elegant doctrine, that is tosay all that they have not learned themselves. All the tumult, the wholetragedy--under these terms he usually refers to the great theologicalstruggle--originates in the hatred of _bonae literae_. 'This is thesource and hot-bed of all this tragedy; incurable hatred of linguisticstudy and the _bonae literae_. ' 'Luther provokes those enemies, whom itis impossible to conquer, though their cause is a bad one. And meanwhileenvy harasses the _bonae literae_, which are attacked at his (Luther's)instigation by these gadflies. They are already nearly insufferable, when things do not go well with them; but who can stand them when theytriumph? Either I am blind, or they aim at something else than Luther. They are preparing to conquer the phalanx of the Muses. ' This was written by Erasmus to a member of the University of Leipzig inDecember 1520. This one-sided and academic conception of the greatevents, a conception which arose in the study of a recluse bending overhis books, did more than anything else to prevent Erasmus fromunderstanding the true nature and purport of the Reformation. CHAPTER XVI FIRST YEARS OF THE REFORMATION Beginning of the relations between Erasmus and Luther-- Archbishop Albert of Mayence, 1517--Progress of the Reformation--Luther tries to bring about a _rapprochement_ with Erasmus, March 1519--Erasmus keeps aloof; fancies he may yet act as a conciliator--His attitude becomes ambiguous--He denies ever more emphatically all relations with Luther and resolves to remain a spectator--He is pressed by either camp to take sides--Aleander in the Netherlands--The Diet of Worms, 1521--Erasmus leaves Louvain to safeguard his freedom, October 1521 About the close of 1516, Erasmus received a letter from the librarianand secretary of Frederick, elector of Saxony, George Spalatinus, written in the respectful and reverential tone in which the great manwas now approached. 'We all esteem you here most highly; the elector hasall your books in his library and intends to buy everything you maypublish in future. ' But the object of Spalatinus's letter was theexecution of a friend's commission. An Augustinian ecclesiastic, a greatadmirer of Erasmus, had requested him to direct his attention to thefact that in his interpretation of St. Paul, especially in that of theepistle to the Romans, Erasmus had failed to conceive the idea of_justitia_ correctly, had paid too little attention to original sin: hemight profit by reading Augustine. The nameless Austin Friar was Luther, then still unknown outside thecircle of the Wittenberg University, in which he was a professor, andthe criticism regarded the cardinal point of his hardly acquiredconviction: justification by faith. Erasmus paid little attention to this letter. He received so many ofthat sort, containing still more praise and no criticism. If he answeredit, the reply did not reach Spalatinus, and later Erasmus completelyforgot the whole letter. Nine months afterwards, in September 1517, when Erasmus had been atLouvain for a short time, he received an honourable invitation, writtenby the first prelate of the Empire, the young Archbishop of Mayence, Albert of Brandenburg. The archbishop would be pleased to see him on anoccasion: he greatly admired his work (he knew it so little as to speakof Erasmus's emendation of the Old Testament, instead of the New) andhoped that he would one day write some lives of saints in elegant style. The young Hohenzoller, advocate of the new light of classical studies, whose attention had probably been drawn to Erasmus by Hutten and Capito, who sojourned at his court, had recently become engaged in one of theboldest political and financial transactions of his time. His elevationto the see of Mayence, at the age of twenty-four, had necessitated apapal dispensation, as he also wished to keep the archbishopric ofMagdeburg and the see of Halberstadt. This accumulation ofecclesiastical offices had to be made subservient to the Brandenburgpolicy which opposed the rival house of Saxony. The Pope granted thedispensation in return for a great sum of money, but to facilitate itspayment he accorded to the archbishop a liberal indulgence for the wholearchbishopric of Mayence, Magdeburg and the Brandenburg territories. Albert, to whom half the proceeds were tacitly left, raised a loan withthe house of Fugger, and this charged itself with the indulgencetraffic. When in December 1517, Erasmus answered the archbishop, Luther'spropositions against indulgences, provoked by the Archbishop ofMayence's instructions regarding their colportage, had already beenposted up (31 October 1517), and were circulated throughout Germany, rousing the whole Church. They were levelled at the same abuses whichErasmus combated, the mechanical, atomistical, and juridical conceptionof religion. But how different was their practical effect, as comparedwith Erasmus's pacific endeavour to purify the Church by lenient means! 'Lives of saints?' Erasmus asked replying to the archbishop. 'I havetried in my poor way to add a little light to the prince of saintshimself. For the rest, your endeavour, in addition to so many difficultmatters of government, and at such an early age, to get the lives of thesaints purged of old women's tales and disgusting style, is extremelylaudable. For nothing should be suffered in the Church that is notperfectly pure or refined, ' And he concludes with a magnificent eulogyof the excellent prelate. During the greater part of 1518, Erasmus was too much occupied by hisown affairs--the journey to Basle and his red-hot labours there, andafterwards his serious illness--to concern himself much with Luther'sbusiness. In March he sends Luther's theses to More, without comment, and, in passing, complains to Colet about the impudence with which Romedisseminates indulgences. Luther, now declared a heretic and summoned toappear at Augsburg, stands before the legate Cajetanus and refuses torecant. Seething enthusiasm surrounds him. Just about that time Erasmuswrites to one of Luther's partisans, John Lang, in very favourable termsabout his work. The theses have pleased everybody. 'I see that themonarchy of the Pope at Rome, as it is now, is a pestilence toChristendom, but I do not know if it is expedient to touch that soreopenly. That would be a matter for princes, but I fear that these willact in concert with the Pope to secure part of the spoils. I do notunderstand what possessed Eck to take up arms against Luther. ' Theletter did not find its way into any of the collections. The year 1519 brought the struggle attending the election of an emperor, after old Maximilian had died in January, and the attempt of the curiato regain ground with lenity. Germany was expecting the long-projecteddisputation between Johannes Eck and Andreas Karlstadt which, in truth, would concern Luther. How could Erasmus, who himself was involved thatyear in so many polemics, have foreseen that the Leipzig disputation, which was to lead Luther to the consequence of rejecting the highestecclesiastical authority, would remain of lasting importance in thehistory of the world, whereas his quarrel with Lee would be forgotten? On 28 March 1519 Luther addressed himself personally to Erasmus for thefirst time. 'I speak with you so often, and you with me, Erasmus, ourornament and our hope; and we do not know each other as yet. ' Herejoices to find that Erasmus displeases many, for this he regards as asign that God has blessed him. Now that his, Luther's, name begins toget known too, a longer silence between them might be wronglyinterpreted. 'Therefore, my Erasmus, amiable man, if you think fit, acknowledge also this little brother in Christ, who really admires youand feels friendly disposed towards you, and for the rest would deserveno better, because of his ignorance, than to lie, unknown, buried in acorner. ' There was a very definite purpose in this somewhat rustically cunningand half ironical letter. Luther wanted, if possible, to make Erasmusshow his colours, to win him, the powerful authority, touchstone ofscience and culture, for the cause which he advocated. In his heartLuther had long been aware of the deep gulf separating him from Erasmus. As early as March 1517, six months before his public appearance, hewrote about Erasmus to John Lang: 'human matters weigh heavier with himthan divine, ' an opinion that so many have pronounced aboutErasmus--obvious, and yet unfair. The attempt, on the part of Luther, to effect a _rapprochement_ was areason for Erasmus to retire at once. Now began that extremely ambiguouspolicy of Erasmus to preserve peace by his authority as a light of theworld and to steer a middle course without committing himself. In thatattitude the great and the petty side of his personality areinextricably intertwined. The error because of which most historianshave seen Erasmus's attitude towards the Reformation either in far toounfavourable a light or--as for instance the German historianKalkoff--much too heroic and far-seeing, is that they erroneously regardhim as psychologically homogeneous. Just that he is not. Hisdouble-sidedness roots in the depths of his being. Many of hisutterances during the struggle proceed directly from his fear and lackof character, also from his inveterate dislike of siding with a personor a cause; but behind that is always his deep and fervent convictionthat neither of the conflicting opinions can completely express thetruth, that human hatred and purblindness infatuate men's minds. Andwith that conviction is allied the noble illusion that it might yet bepossible to preserve the peace by moderation, insight, and kindliness. In April 1519 Erasmus addressed himself by letter to the electorFrederick of Saxony, Luther's patron. He begins by alluding to hisdedication of Suetonius two years before; but his real purpose is to saysomething about Luther. Luther's writings, he says, have given theLouvain obscurants plenty of reason to inveigh against the _bonaeliterae_, to decry all scholars. He himself does not know Luther and hasglanced through his writings only cursorily as yet, but everyone praiseshis life. How little in accordance with theological gentleness it is tocondemn him offhand, and that before the indiscreet vulgar! For has henot proposed a dispute, and submitted himself to everybody's judgement?No one has, so far, admonished, taught, convinced him. Every error isnot at once heresy. The best of Christianity is a life worthy of Christ. Where we find that, we should not rashly suspect people of heresy. Why do we so uncharitablypersecute the lapses of others, though none of us is free from error?Why do we rather want to conquer than cure, suppress than instruct? But he concludes with a word that could not but please Luther's friends, who so hoped for his support. 'May the duke prevent an innocent man frombeing surrendered under the cloak of piety to the impiety of a few. Thisis also the wish of Pope Leo, who has nothing more at heart than thatinnocence be safe. ' At this same time Erasmus does his best to keep Froben back frompublishing Luther's writings, 'that they may not fan the hatred of the_bonae literae_ still more'. And he keeps repeating: I do not knowLuther, I have not read his writings. He makes this declaration toLuther himself, in his reply to the latter's epistle of 28 March. Thisletter of Erasmus, dated 30 May 1519, should be regarded as a newspaperleader[17], to acquaint the public with his attitude towards the Lutherquestion. Luther does not know the tragedies which his writings havecaused at Louvain. People here think that Erasmus has helped him incomposing them and call him the standard bearer of the party! Thatseemed to them a fitting pretext to suppress the _bonae literae_. 'Ihave declared that you are perfectly unknown to me, that I have not yetread your books and therefore neither approve nor disapprove anything. ''I reserve myself, so far as I may, to be of use to the revivingstudies. Discreet moderation seems likely to bring better progress thanimpetuosity. It was by this that Christ subjugated the world. ' On the same day he writes to John Lang, one of Luther's friends andfollowers, a short note, not meant for publication: 'I hope that theendeavours of yourself and your party will be successful. Here thePapists rave violently.... All the best minds are rejoiced at Luther'sboldness: I do not doubt he will be careful that things do not end in aquarrel of parties!... We shall never triumph over feigned Christiansunless we first abolish the tyranny of the Roman see, and of itssatellites, the Dominicans, the Franciscans and the Carmelites. But noone could attempt that without a serious tumult. ' As the gulf widens, Erasmus's protestations that he has nothing to dowith Luther become much more frequent. Relations at Louvain grow evermore disagreeable and the general sentiment about him ever more unkind. In August 1519 he turns to the Pope himself for protection against hisopponents. He still fails to see how wide the breach is. He still takesit all to be quarrels of scholars. King Henry of England and KingFrancis of France in their own countries have imposed silence upon thequarrellers and slanderers; if only the Pope would do the same! In October he was once more reconciled with the Louvain faculty. It wasjust at this time that Colet died in London, the man who had, betterperhaps than anyone else, understood Erasmus's standpoint. Kindredspirits in Germany still looked up to Erasmus as the great man who wason the alert to interpose at the right moment and who had mademoderation the watchword, until the time should come to give his friendsthe signal. But in the increasing noise of the battle his voice already sounded lesspowerfully than before. A letter to Cardinal Albert of Mayence, 19October 1519, of about the same content as that of Frederick of Saxonywritten in the preceding spring, was at once circulated by Luther'sfriends; and by the advocates of conservatism, in spite of the usualprotestation, 'I do not know Luther', it was made to serve againstErasmus. It became more and more clear that the mediating and conciliatoryposition which Erasmus wished to take up would soon be altogetheruntenable. The inquisitor Jacob Hoogstraten had come from Cologne, wherehe was a member of the University, to Louvain, to work against Lutherthere, as he had worked against Reuchlin. On 7 November 1519 the Louvainfaculty, following the example of that of Cologne, proceeded to take thedecisive step: the solemn condemnation of a number of Luther's opinions. In future no place could be less suitable to Erasmus than Louvain, thecitadel of action against reformers. It is surprising that he remainedthere another two years. The expectation that he would be able to speak the conciliating word waspaling. For the rest he failed to see the true proportions. During thefirst months of 1520 his attention was almost entirely taken up by hisown polemics with Lee, a paltry incident in the great revolution. Thedesire to keep aloof got more and more the upper hand of him. In June hewrites to Melanchthon: 'I see that matters begin to look like sedition. It is perhaps necessary that scandals occur, but I should prefer not tobe the author. ' He has, he thinks, by his influence with Wolsey, prevented the burning of Luther's writings in England, which had beenordered. But he was mistaken. The burning had taken place in London, asearly as 12 May. The best proof that Erasmus had practically given up his hope to play aconciliatory part may be found in what follows. In the summer of 1520the famous meeting between the three monarchs, Henry VIII, Francis I andCharles V, took place at Calais. Erasmus was to go there in the train ofhis prince. How would such a congress of princes--where in peacefulconclave the interests of France, England, Spain, the German Empire, anda considerable part of Italy, were represented together--have affectedErasmus's imagination, if his ideal had remained unshaken! But there areno traces of this. Erasmus was at Calais in July 1520, had someconversation with Henry VIII there, and greeted More, but it does notappear that he attached any other importance to the journey than that ofan opportunity, for the last time, to greet his English friends. It was awkward for Erasmus that just at this time, when the cause offaith took so much harsher forms, his duties as counsellor to theyouthful Charles, now back from Spain to be crowned as emperor, circumscribed his liberty more than before. In the summer of 1520appeared, based on the incriminating material furnished by the Louvainfaculty, the papal bull declaring Luther to be a heretic, and, unless heshould speedily recant, excommunicating him. 'I fear the worst for theunfortunate Luther, ' Erasmus writes, 9 September 1520, 'so doesconspiracy rage everywhere, so are princes incensed with him on allsides, and, most of all, Pope Leo. Would Luther had followed my adviceand abstained from those hostile and seditious actions!... They will notrest until they have quite subverted the study of languages and the goodlearning.... Out of the hatred against these and the stupidity of monksdid this tragedy first arise.... I do not meddle with it. For the rest, a bishopric is waiting for me if I choose to write against Luther. ' Indeed, Erasmus had become, by virtue of his enormous celebrity, ascircumstances would have it, more and more a valuable asset in the greatpolicy of emperor and pope. People wanted to use his name and make himchoose sides. And that he would not do for any consideration. He wroteevasively to the Pope about his relations with Luther without altogetherdisavowing him. How zealously he defends himself from the suspicion ofbeing on Luther's side as noisy monks make out in their sermons, whosummarily link the two in their scoffing disparagement. But by the other side also he is pressed to choose sides and to speakout. Towards the end of October 1520 the coronation of the emperor tookplace at Aix-la-Chapelle. Erasmus was perhaps present; in any case heaccompanied the Emperor to Cologne. There, on 5 November, he had aninterview about Luther with the Elector Frederick of Saxony. He waspersuaded to write down the result of that discussion in the form oftwenty-two _Axiomata concerning Luther's cause_. Against his intentionthey were printed at once. Erasmus's hesitation in those days between the repudiation and theapprobation of Luther is not discreditable to him. It is the tragicdefect running through his whole personality: his refusal or inabilityever to draw ultimate conclusions. Had he only been a calculating andselfish nature, afraid of losing his life, he would long since havealtogether forsaken Luther's cause. It is his misfortune affecting hisfame, that he continually shows his weaknesses, whereas what is great inhim lies deep. At Cologne Erasmus also met the man with whom, as a promising younghumanist, fourteen years younger than himself, he had, for some months, shared a room in the house of Aldus's father-in-law, at Venice:Hieronymus Aleander, now sent to the Emperor as a papal nuncio, topersuade him to conform his imperial policy to that of the Pope, in thematter of the great ecclesiastical question, and give effect to thepapal excommunication by the imperial ban. It must have been somewhat painful for Erasmus that his friend had sofar surpassed him in power and position, and was now called to bring bydiplomatic means the solution which he himself would have liked to seeachieved by ideal harmony, good will and toleration. He had nevertrusted Aleander, and was more than ever on his guard against him. As ahumanist, in spite of brilliant gifts, Aleander was by far Erasmus'sinferior, and had never, like him, risen from literature to serioustheological studies; he had simply prospered in the service of Churchmagnates (whom Erasmus had given up early). This man was now investedwith the highest mediating powers. To what degree of exasperation Erasmus's most violent antagonists atLouvain had now been reduced is seen from the witty and slightlymalicious account he gives Thomas More of his meeting with Egmondanusbefore the Rector of the university, who wanted to reconcile them. Stillthings did not look so black as Ulrich von Hutten thought, when he wroteto Erasmus: 'Do you think that you are still safe, now that Luther'sbooks are burned? Fly, and save yourself for us!' Ever more emphatic do Erasmus's protestations become that he has nothingto do with Luther. Long ago he had already requested him not to mentionhis name, and Luther promised it: 'Very well, then, I shall not againrefer to you, neither will other good friends, since it troubles you'. Ever louder, too, are Erasmus's complaints about the raving of the monksat him, and his demands that the mendicant orders be deprived of theright to preach. In April 1521 comes the moment in the world's history to whichChristendom has been looking forward: Luther at the Diet of Worms, holding fast to his opinions, confronted by the highest authority in theEmpire. So great is the rejoicing in Germany that for a moment it mayseem that the Emperor's power is in danger rather than Luther and hisadherents. 'If I had been present', writes Erasmus, 'I should haveendeavoured that this tragedy would have been so tempered by moderatearguments that it could not afterwards break out again to the stillgreater detriment of the world. ' The imperial sentence was pronounced: within the Empire (as in theBurgundian Netherlands before that time) Luther's books were to beburned, his adherents arrested and their goods confiscated, and Lutherwas to be given up to the authorities. Erasmus hopes that now reliefwill follow. 'The Luther tragedy is at an end with us here; would it hadnever appeared on the stage. ' In these days Albrecht Dürer, on hearingthe false news of Luther's death, wrote in the diary of his journey thatpassionate exclamation: 'O Erasmus of Rotterdam, where will you be?Hear, you knight of Christ, ride forth beside the Lord Christ, protectthe truth, obtain the martyr's crown. For you are but an old manikin. Ihave heard you say that you have allowed yourself two more years, inwhich you are still fit to do some work; spend them well, in behalf ofthe Gospel and the true Christian faith.... O Erasmus, be on this side, that God may be proud of you. ' It expresses confidence in Erasmus's power, but at bottom is theexpectation that he will not do all this. Dürer had rightly understoodErasmus. The struggle abated nowise, least of all at Louvain. Latomus, the mostdignified and able of Louvain divines, had now become one of the mostserious opponents of Luther and, in so doing, touched Erasmus, too, indirectly. To Nicholas of Egmond, the Carmelite, another of Erasmus'scompatriots had been added as a violent antagonist, Vincent Dirks ofHaarlem, a Dominican. Erasmus addresses himself to the faculty, todefend himself against the new attacks, and to explain why he has neverwritten against Luther. He will read him, he will soon take up somethingto quiet the tumult. He succeeds in getting Aleander, who arrived atLouvain in June, to prohibit preaching against him. The Pope still hopesthat Aleander will succeed in bringing back Erasmus, with whom he isagain on friendly terms, to the right track. But Erasmus began to consider the only exit which was now left to him:to leave Louvain and the Netherlands to regain his menaced independence. The occasion to depart had long ago presented itself: the third editionof his New Testament called him to Basle once more. It would not be apermanent departure, and he purposed to return to Louvain. On 28 October(his birthday) he left the town where he had spent four difficult years. His chambers in the College of the Lily were reserved for him and heleft his books behind. On 15 November he reached Basle. Soon the rumour spread that out of fear of Aleander he had saved himselfby flight. But the idea, revived again in our days in spite of Erasmus'sown painstaking denial, that Aleander should have cunningly andexpressly driven him from the Netherlands, is inherently improbable. Sofar as the Church was concerned, Erasmus would at almost any point bemore dangerous than at Louvain, in the headquarters of conservatism, under immediate control of the strict Burgundian government, where, itseemed, he could sooner or later be pressed into the service of theanti-Lutheran policy. It was this contingency, as Dr. Allen has correctly pointed out, whichhe feared and evaded. Not for his bodily safety did he emigrate; Erasmuswould not have been touched--he was far too valuable an asset for suchmeasures. It was his mental independence, so dear to him above all else, that he felt to be threatened; and, to safeguard that, he did not returnto Louvain. [Illustration: XIX. THE HOUSE AT ANDERLECHT WHERE ERASMUS LIVED FROM MAYTO NOVEMBER 1521] [Illustration: XX. ERASMUS'S STUDY AT ANDERLECHT] FOOTNOTES: [17] Translation on pp. 229 ff. CHAPTER XVII ERASMUS AT BASLE 1521-9 Basle his dwelling-place for nearly eight years: 1521-9--Political thought of Erasmus--Concord and peace--Anti-war writings--Opinions concerning princes and government--New editions of several Fathers--The _Colloquia_--Controversies with Stunica, Beda, etc. --Quarrel with Hutten--Eppendorff It is only towards the evening of life that the picture of Erasmusacquires the features with which it was to go down to posterity. Only atBasle--delivered from the troublesome pressure of parties wanting toenlist him, transplanted from an environment of haters and opponents atLouvain to a circle of friends, kindred spirits, helpers and admirers, emancipated from the courts of princes, independent of the patronage ofthe great, unremittingly devoting his tremendous energy to the work thatwas dear to him--did he become Holbein's Erasmus. In those late years heapproaches most closely to the ideal of his personal life. He did not think that there were still fifteen years in store for him. Long before, in fact, since he became forty years old in 1506, Erasmushad been in an old-age mood. 'The last act of the play has begun, ' hekeeps saying after 1517. He now felt practically independent as to money matters. Many years hadpassed before he could say that. But peace of mind did not come withcompetence. It never came. He never became truly placid and serene, asHolbein's picture seems to represent him. He was always too muchconcerned about what people said or thought of him. Even at Basle he didnot feel thoroughly at home. He still speaks repeatedly of a removal inthe near future to Rome, to France, to England, or back to theNetherlands. Physical rest, at any rate, which was not in him, wasgranted him by circumstances: for nearly eight years he now remained atBasle, and then he lived at Freiburg for six. Erasmus at Basle is a man whose ideals of the world and society havefailed him. What remains of that happy expectation of a golden age ofpeace and light, in which he had believed as late as 1517? What of histrust in good will and rational insight, in which he wrote the_Institutio Principis Christiani_ for the youthful Charles V? To Erasmusall the weal of state and society had always been merely a matter ofpersonal morality and intellectual enlightenment. By recommending andspreading those two he at one time thought he had introduced the greatrenovation himself. From the moment when he saw that the conflict wouldlead to an exasperated struggle he refused any longer to be anything buta spectator. As an actor in the great ecclesiastical combat Erasmus hadvoluntarily left the stage. But he does not give up his ideal. 'Let us resist, ' he concludes anEpistle about gospel philosophy, 'not by taunts and threats, not byforce of arms and injustice, but by simple discretion, by benefits, bygentleness and tolerance. ' Towards the close of his life, he prays: 'IfThou, O God, deignst to renew that Holy Spirit in the hearts of all, then also will those external disasters cease.... Bring order to thischaos, Lord Jesus, let Thy Spirit spread over these waters of sadlytroubled dogmas. ' Concord, peace, sense of duty and kindliness, were all valued highly byErasmus; yet he rarely saw them realized in practical life. He becomesdisillusioned. After the short spell of political optimism he neverspeaks of the times any more but in bitter terms--a most criminal age, he says--and again, the most unhappy and most depraved age imaginable. In vain had he always written in the cause of peace: _Querela pacis_, the complaint of peace, the adage _Dulce bellum inexpertis_, war issweet to those who have not known it, _Oratio de pace et discordia_, andmore still. Erasmus thought rather highly of his pacifistic labours:'that polygraph, who never leaves off persecuting war by means of hispen', thus he makes a character of the _Colloquies_ designate himself. According to a tradition noted by Melanchthon, Pope Julius is said tohave called him before him in connection with his advice about the warwith Venice, [18] and to have remarked to him angrily that he should stopwriting on the concerns of princes: 'You do not understand thosethings!' Erasmus had, in spite of a certain innate moderation, a whollynon-political mind. He lived too much outside of practical reality, andthought too naïvely of the corrigibility of mankind, to realize thedifficulties and necessities of government. His ideas about a goodadministration were extremely primitive, and, as is often the case withscholars of a strong ethical bias, very revolutionary at bottom, thoughhe never dreamed of drawing the practical inferences. His friendshipwith political and juridical thinkers, as More, Budaeus and Zasius, hadnot changed him. Questions of forms of government, law or right, did notexist for him. Economic problems he saw in idyllic simplicity. Theprince should reign gratuitously and impose as few taxes as possible. 'The good prince has all that loving citizens possess. ' The unemployedshould be simply driven away. We feel in closer contact with the worldof facts when he enumerates the works of peace for the prince: thecleaning of towns, building of bridges, halls, and streets, draining ofpools, shifting of river-beds, the diking and reclamation of moors. Itis the Netherlander who speaks here, and at the same time the man inwhom the need of cleansing and clearing away is a fundamental trait ofcharacter. Vague politicians like Erasmus are prone to judge princes very severely, since they take them to be responsible for all wrongs. Erasmus praisesthem personally, but condemns them in general. From the kings of histime he had for a long time expected peace in Church and State. They haddisappointed him. But his severe judgement of princes he derived ratherfrom classical reading than from political experience of his own times. In the later editions of the _Adagia_ he often reverts to princes, theirtask and their neglect of duty, without ever mentioning special princes. 'There are those who sow the seeds of dissension between their townshipsin order to fleece the poor unhindered and to satisfy their gluttony bythe hunger of innocent citizens. ' In the adage _Scarabeus aquilamquaerit_ he represents the prince under the image of the Eagle as thegreat cruel robber and persecutor. In another, _Aut regem aut fatuumnasci oportere_, and in _Dulce bellum inexpertis_ he utters hisfrequently quoted dictum: 'The people found and develop towns, the follyof princes devastates them. ' 'The princes conspire with the Pope, andperhaps with the Turk, against the happiness of the people, ' he writesto Colet in 1518. He was an academic critic writing from his study. A revolutionarypurpose was as foreign to Erasmus as it was to More when writing the_Utopia_. 'Bad monarchs should perhaps be suffered now and then. Theremedy should not be tried. ' It may be doubted whether Erasmus exercisedmuch real influence on his contemporaries by means of his diatribesagainst princes. One would fain believe that his ardent love of peaceand bitter arraignment of the madness of war had some effect. They haveundoubtedly spread pacific sentiments in the broad circles ofintellectuals who read Erasmus, but unfortunately the history of thesixteenth century shows little evidence that such sentiments bore fruitin actual practice. However this may be, Erasmus's strength was not inthese political declamations. He could never be a leader of men withtheir passions and their harsh interests. His life-work lay elsewhere. Now, at Basle, though tormented more andmore frequently by his painful complaint which he had already carriedfor so many years, he could devote himself more fully than ever beforeto the great task he had set himself: the opening up of the pure sourcesof Christianity, the exposition of the truth of the Gospel in all thesimple comprehensibility in which he saw it. In a broad stream flowedthe editions of the Fathers, of classic authors, the new editions of theNew Testament, of the _Adagia_, of his own Letters, together withParaphrases of the New Testament, Commentaries on Psalms, and a numberof new theological, moral and philological treatises. In 1522 he was illfor months on end; yet in that year Arnobius and the third edition ofthe New Testament succeeded Cyprian, whom he had already annotated atLouvain and edited in 1520, closely followed by Hilary in 1523 and nextby a new edition of Jerome in 1524. Later appeared Irenaeus, 1526;Ambrose, 1527; Augustine, 1528-9, and a Latin translation of Chrysostomin 1530. The rapid succession of these comprehensive works proves thatthe work was done as Erasmus always worked: hastily, with anextraordinary power of concentration and a surprising command of hismnemonic faculty, but without severe criticism and the painful accuracythat modern philology requires in such editions. Neither the polemical Erasmus nor the witty humorist had been lost inthe erudite divine and the disillusioned reformer. The paper-warrior wewould further gladly have dispensed with, but not the humorist, for manytreasures of literature. But the two are linked inseparably as the_Colloquies_ prove. What was said about the _Moria_ may be repeated here: if in theliterature of the world only the _Colloquies_ and the _Moria_ haveremained alive, that choice of history is right. Not in the sense thatin literature only Erasmus's pleasantest, lightest and most readableworks were preserved, whereas the ponderous theological erudition wassilently relegated to the shelves of libraries. It was indeed Erasmus'sbest work that was kept alive in the _Moria_ and the _Colloquies_. Withthese his sparkling wit has charmed the world. If only we had space hereto assign to the Erasmus of the _Colloquies_ his just and lofty place inthat brilliant constellation of sixteenth-century followers ofDemocritus: Rabelais, Ariosto, Montaigne, Cervantes, and Ben Jonson! When Erasmus gave the _Colloquies_ their definite form at Basle, theyhad already had a long and curious genesis. At first they had been nomore than _Familiarium colloquiorum formulae_, models of colloquialLatin conversation, written at Paris before 1500, for the use of hispupils. Augustine Caminade, the shabby friend who was fond of living onyoung Erasmus's genius, had collected them and had turned them toadvantage within a limited compass. He had long been dead when oneLambert Hollonius of Liége sold the manuscript that he had got fromCaminade to Froben at Basle. Beatus Rhenanus, although then alreadyErasmus's trusted friend, had it printed at once without the latter'sknowledge. That was in 1518. Erasmus was justly offended at it, the moreso as the book was full of slovenly blunders and solecisms. So he atonce prepared a better edition himself, published by Maertensz atLouvain in 1519. At that time the work really contained but one truedialogue, the nucleus of the later _Convivium profanum_. The rest wereformulae of etiquette and short talks. But already in this form it was, apart from its usefulness to latinists, so full of happy wit andhumorous invention that it became very popular. Even before 1522 it hadappeared in twenty-five editions, mostly reprints, at Antwerp, Paris, Strassburg, Cologne, Cracow, Deventer, Leipzig, London, Vienna, Mayence. At Basle Erasmus himself revised an edition which was published in March1522 by Froben, dedicated to the latter's six-year-old son, the author'sgodchild, Johannes Erasmius Froben. Soon after he did more than revise. In 1523 and 1524 first ten new dialogues, afterwards four, and againsix, were added to the _Formulae_, and at last in 1526 the title waschanged to _Familiarium colloquiorum opus_. It remained dedicated to theboy Froben and went on growing with each new edition: a rich and motleycollection of dialogues, each a masterpiece of literary form, well-knit, spontaneous, convincing, unsurpassed in lightness, vivacity and fluentLatin; each one a finished one-act play. From that year on, the streamof editions and translations flowed almost uninterruptedly for twocenturies. Erasmus's mind had lost nothing of its acuteness and freshness when, somany years after the _Moria_, he again set foot in the field of satire. As to form, the _Colloquies_ are less confessedly satirical than the_Moria_. With its telling subject, the _Praise of Folly_, the latter atonce introduces itself as a satire: whereas, at first sight, the_Colloquies_ might seem to be mere innocent genre-pieces. But as to thecontents, they are more satirical, at least more directly so. The_Moria_, as a satire, is philosophical and general; the _Colloquia_ areup to date and special. At the same time they combine more the positiveand negative elements. In the _Moria_ Erasmus's own ideal dwellsunexpressed behind the representation; in the _Colloquia_ he continuallyand clearly puts it in the foreground. On this account they form, notwithstanding all the jests and mockery, a profoundly serious moraltreatise and are closely akin to the _Enchiridion militis Christiani_. What Erasmus really demanded of the world and of mankind, how hepictured to himself that passionately desired, purified Christiansociety of good morals, fervent faith, simplicity and moderation, kindliness, toleration and peace--this we can nowhere else find soclearly and well-expressed as in the _Colloquia_. In these last fifteenyears of his life Erasmus resumes, by means of a series ofmoral-dogmatic disquisitions, the topics he broached in the_Enchiridion_: the exposition of simple, general Christian conduct;untrammelled and natural ethics. That is his message of redemption. Itcame to many out of _Exomologesis_, _De esu carnium_, _Lingua_, _Institutio christiani matrimonii_, _Vidua christiana_, _Ecclesiastes_. But, to far larger numbers, the message was contained in the_Colloquies_. The _Colloquia_ gave rise to much more hatred and contest than the_Moria_, and not without reason, for in them Erasmus attacked persons. He allowed himself the pleasure of ridiculing his Louvain antagonists. Lee had already been introduced as a sycophant and braggart into theedition of 1519, and when the quarrel was assuaged, in 1522, thereference was expunged. Vincent Dirks was caricatured in _The Funeral_(1526) as a covetous friar, who extorts from the dying testaments infavour of his order. He remained. Later sarcastic observations wereadded about Beda and numbers of others. The adherents of Oecolampadiustook a figure with a long nose in the _Colloquies_ for their leader:'Oh, no, ' replied Erasmus, 'it is meant for quite another person. 'Henceforth all those who were at loggerheads with Erasmus, and they weremany, ran the risk of being pilloried in the _Colloquia_. It was nowonder that this work, especially with its scourging mockery of themonastic orders, became the object of controversy. * * * * * Erasmus never emerged from his polemics. He was, no doubt, serious whenhe said that, in his heart, he abhorred and had never desired them; buthis caustic mind often got the better of his heart, and having oncebegun to quarrel he undoubtedly enjoyed giving his mockery the rein andwielding his facile dialectic pen. For understanding his personality itis unnecessary here to deal at large with all those fights on paper. Only the most important ones need be mentioned. Since 1516 a pot had been boiling for Erasmus in Spain. A theologian ofthe University at Alcalá, Diego Lopez Zuñiga, or, in Latin, Stunica, hadbeen preparing Annotations to the edition of the New Testament: 'asecond Lee', said Erasmus. At first Cardinal Ximenes had prohibited thepublication, but in 1520, after his death, the storm broke. For someyears Stunica kept persecuting Erasmus with his criticism, to thelatter's great vexation; at last there followed a _rapprochement_, probably as Erasmus became more conservative, and a kindly attitude onthe part of Stunica. No less long and violent was the quarrel with the syndic of theSorbonne, Noel Bedier or Beda, which began in 1522. The Sorbonne wasprevailed upon to condemn several of Erasmus's dicta as heretical in1526. The effort of Beda to implicate Erasmus in the trial of Louis deBerquin, who had translated the condemned writings and who waseventually burned at the stake for faith's sake in 1529, made the matterstill more disagreeable for Erasmus. It is clear enough that both at Paris and at Louvain in the circles ofthe theological faculties the chief cause of exasperation was in the_Colloquia_. Egmondanus and Vincent Dirks did not forgive Erasmus forhaving acridly censured their station and their personalities. More courteous than the aforementioned polemics was the fight with ahigh-born Italian, Alberto Pio, prince of Carpi; acrid and bitter wasone with a group of Spanish monks, who brought the Inquisition to bearupon him. In Spain 'Erasmistas' was the name of those who inclined tomore liberal conceptions of the creed. In this way the matter accumulated for the volume of Erasmus's workswhich contains, according to his own arrangement, all his _Apologiae_:not 'excuses', but 'vindications'. 'Miserable man that I am; they justfill a volume, ' exclaimed Erasmus. Two of his polemics merit a somewhat closer examination: that withUlrich von Hutten and that with Luther. [Illustration: XXI. MARTIN LUTHER AS A MONK] [Illustration: XXII. ULRICH VON HUTTEN] Hutten, knight and humanist, the enthusiastic herald of a nationalGerman uplift, the ardent hater of papacy and supporter of Luther, wascertainly a hot-head and perhaps somewhat of a muddle-head. He hadapplauded Erasmus when the latter still seemed to be the coming man andhad afterwards besought him to take Luther's side. Erasmus had soondiscovered that this noisy partisan might compromise him. Had not one ofHutten's rash satires been ascribed to him, Erasmus? There came a timewhen Hutten could no longer abide Erasmus. His knightly instinct reactedon the very weaknesses of Erasmus's character: the fear of committinghimself and the inclination to repudiate a supporter in time of danger. Erasmus knew that weakness himself: 'Not all have strength enough formartyrdom, ' he writes to Richard Pace in 1521. 'I fear that I shall, incase it results in a tumult, follow St. Peter's example. ' But thisacknowledgement does not discharge him from the burden of Hutten'sreproaches which he flung at him in fiery language in 1523. In thisquarrel Erasmus's own fame pays the penalty of his fault. For nowheredoes he show himself so undignified and puny as in that 'Sponge againstHutten's mire', which the latter did not live to read. Hutten, disillusioned and forsaken, died at an early age in 1523, and Erasmusdid not scruple to publish the venomous pamphlet against his formerfriend after his demise. Hutten, however, was avenged upon Erasmus living. One of his adherents, Henry of Eppendorff, inherited Hutten's bitter disgust with Erasmus andpersecuted him for years. Getting hold of one of Erasmus's letters inwhich he was denounced, he continually threatened him with an action fordefamation of character. Eppendorff's hostility so thoroughlyexasperated Erasmus that he fancied he could detect his machinations andspies everywhere even after the actual persecution had long ceased. FOOTNOTES: [18] Melanchthon, _Opera, Corpus Reformatorum_, XII 266, where he refersto _Querela pacis_, which, however, was not written before 1517; _vide_A. 603 and I p. 37. 10. CHAPTER XVIII CONTROVERSY WITH LUTHER AND GROWING CONSERVATISM 1524-6 Erasmus persuaded to write against Luther--_De Libero Arbitrio_: 1524--Luther's answer: _De Servo Arbitrio_--Erasmus's indefiniteness contrasted with Luther's extreme rigour--Erasmus henceforth on the side of conservatism--The Bishop of Basle and Oecolampadius--Erasmus's half-hearted dogmatics: confession, ceremonies, worship of the Saints, Eucharist--_Institutio Christiani Matrimonii_: 1526--He feels surrounded by enemies At length Erasmus was led, in spite of all, to do what he had alwaystried to avoid: he wrote against Luther. But it did not in the leastresemble the _geste_ Erasmus at one time contemplated, in the cause ofpeace in Christendom and uniformity of faith, to call a halt to theimpetuous Luther, and thereby to recall the world to its senses. In thegreat act of the Reformation their polemics were merely an after-play. Not Erasmus alone was disillusioned and tired--Luther too was past hisheroic prime, circumscribed by conditions, forced into the world ofaffairs, a disappointed man. Erasmus had wished to persevere in his resolution to remain a spectatorof the great tragedy. 'If, as appears from the wonderful success ofLuther's cause, God wills all this'--thus did Erasmus reason--'and Hehas perhaps judged such a drastic surgeon as Luther necessary for thecorruption of these times, then it is not my business to withstand him. 'But he was not left in peace. While he went on protesting that he hadnothing to do with Luther and differed widely from him, the defenders ofthe old Church adhered to the standpoint urged as early as 1520 byNicholas of Egmond before the rector of Louvain: 'So long as he refusesto write against Luther, we take him to be a Lutheran'. So mattersstood. 'That you are looked upon as a Lutheran here is certain, ' Viveswrites to him from the Netherlands in 1522. Ever stronger became the pressure to write against Luther. From HenryVIII came a call, communicated by Erasmus's old friend Tunstall, fromGeorge of Saxony, from Rome itself, whence Pope Adrian VI, his oldpatron, had urged him shortly before his death. Erasmus thought he could refuse no longer. He tried some dialogues inthe style of the _Colloquies_, but did not get on with them; andprobably they would not have pleased those who were desirous ofenlisting his services. Between Luther and Erasmus himself there hadbeen no personal correspondence, since the former had promised him, in1520; 'Well then, Erasmus, I shall not mention your name again. ' Nowthat Erasmus had prepared to attack Luther, however, there came anepistle from the latter, written on 15 April 1524, in which thereformer, in his turn, requested Erasmus in his own words: 'Pleaseremain now what you have always professed yourself desirous of being: amere spectator of our tragedy'. There is a ring of ironical contempt inLuther's words, but Erasmus called the letter 'rather humane; I had notthe courage to reply with equal humanity, because of the sycophants'. In order to be able to combat Luther with a clear conscience Erasmus hadnaturally to choose a point on which he differed from Luther in hisheart. It was not one of the more superficial parts of the Church'sstructure. For these he either, with Luther, cordially rejected, such asceremonies, observances, fasting, etc. , or, though more moderately thanLuther, he had his doubts about them, as the sacraments or the primacyof St. Peter. So he naturally came to the point where the deepest gulfyawned between their natures, between their conceptions of the essenceof faith, and thus to the central and eternal problem of good and evil, guilt and compulsion, liberty and bondage, God and man. Luther confessedin his reply that here indeed the vital point had been touched. _De libero arbitrio diatribe_ (_A Disquisition upon Free Will_) appearedin September 1524. Was Erasmus qualified to write about such a subject?In conformity with his method and with his evident purpose to vindicateauthority and tradition, this time, Erasmus developed the argument thatScripture teaches, doctors affirm, philosophers prove, and human reasontestifies man's will to be free. Without acknowledgement of free willthe terms of God's justice and God's mercy remain without meaning. Whatwould be the sense of the teachings, reproofs, admonitions of Scripture(Timothy iii. ) if all happened according to mere and inevitablenecessity? To what purpose is obedience praised, if for good and evilworks we are equally but tools to God, as the hatchet to the carpenter?And if this were so, it would be dangerous to reveal such a doctrine tothe multitude, for morality is dependent on the consciousness offreedom. Luther received the treatise of his antagonist with disgust andcontempt. In writing his reply, however, he suppressed these feelingsoutwardly and observed the rules of courtesy. But his inward anger isrevealed in the contents itself of _De servo arbitrio_ (_On the Will notfree_). For here he really did what Erasmus had just reproached himwith--trying to heal a dislocated member by tugging at it in theopposite direction. More fiercely than ever before, his formidableboorish mind drew the startling inferences of his burning faith. Withoutany reserve he now accepted all the extremes of absolute determinism. Inorder to confute indeterminism in explicit terms, he was now forced tohave recourse to those primitive metaphors of exalted faith striving toexpress the inexpressible: God's two wills, which do not coincide, God's'eternal hatred of mankind, a hatred not only on account of demerits andthe works of free will, but a hatred that existed even before the worldwas created', and that metaphor of the human will, which, as a ridingbeast, stands in the middle between God and the devil and which ismounted by one or the other without being able to move towards either ofthe two contending riders. If anywhere, Luther's doctrine in _De ServoArbitrio_ means a recrudescence of faith and a straining of religiousconceptions. But it was Luther who here stood on the rockbed of a profound and mysticfaith in which the absolute conscience of the eternal pervades all. Inhim all conceptions, like dry straw, were consumed in the glow of God'smajesty, for him each human co-operation to attain to salvation was aprofanation of God's glory. Erasmus's mind after all did not truly_live_ in the ideas which were here disputed, of sin and grace, ofredemption and the glory of God as the final cause of all that is. Was, then, Erasmus's cause in all respects inferior? Was Luther right atthe core? Perhaps. Dr. Murray rightly reminds us of Hegel's saying thattragedy is not the conflict between right and wrong, but the conflictbetween right and right. The combat of Luther and Erasmus proceededbeyond the point at which our judgement is forced to halt and has toaccept an equivalence, nay, a compatibility of affirmation and negation. And this fact, that they here were fighting with words and metaphors ina sphere beyond that of what may be known and expressed, was understoodby Erasmus. Erasmus, the man of the fine shades, for whom ideaseternally blended into each other and interchanged, called a Proteus byLuther; Luther the man of over-emphatic expression about all matters. The Dutchman, who sees the sea, was opposed to the German, who looks outon mountain tops. 'This is quite true that we cannot speak of God but with inadequatewords. ' 'Many problems should be deferred, not to the oecumenicalCouncil, but till the time when, the glass and the darkness having beentaken away, we shall see God face to face. ' 'What is free of error?''There are in sacred literature certain sanctuaries into which God hasnot willed that we should penetrate further. ' The Catholic Church had on the point of free will reserved to itselfsome slight proviso, left a little elbow-room to the consciousness ofhuman liberty _under_ grace. Erasmus conceived that liberty in aconsiderably broader spirit. Luther absolutely denied it. The opinion ofcontemporaries was at first too much dominated by their participation inthe great struggle as such: they applauded Erasmus, because he struckboldly at Luther, or the other way about, according to their sympathies. Not only Vives applauded Erasmus, but also more orthodox Catholics suchas Sadolet. The German humanists, unwilling, for the most part, to breakwith the ancient Church, were moved by Erasmus's attack to turn theirbacks still more upon Luther: Mutianus, Zasius, and Pirckheimer. EvenMelanchthon inclined to Erasmus's standpoint. Others, like Capito, oncea zealous supporter, now washed their hands of him. Soon Calvin with theiron cogency of his argument was completely to take Luther's side. It is worth while to quote the opinion of a contemporary Catholicscholar about the relations of Erasmus and Luther. 'Erasmus, ' says F. X. Kiefl, [19] 'with his concept of free, unspoiled human nature wasintrinsically much more foreign to the Church than Luther. He onlycombated it, however, with haughty scepticism: for which reason Lutherwith subtle psychology upbraided him for liking to speak of theshortcomings and the misery of the Church of Christ in such a way thathis readers could not help laughing, instead of bringing his charges, with deep sighs, as beseemed before God. ' The _Hyperaspistes_, a voluminous treatise in which Erasmus againaddressed Luther, was nothing but an epilogue, which need not bediscussed here at length. Erasmus had thus, at last, openly taken sides. For, apart from thedogmatical point at issue itself, the most important part about _Delibero arbitrio_ was that in it he had expressly turned against theindividual religious conceptions and had spoken in favour of theauthority and tradition of the Church. He always regarded himself as aCatholic. 'Neither death nor life shall draw me from the communion ofthe Catholic Church, ' he writes in 1522, and in the _Hyperaspistes_ in1526: 'I have never been an apostate from the Catholic Church. I knowthat in this Church, which you call the Papist Church, there are manywho displease me, but such I also see in your Church. One bears moreeasily the evils to which one is accustomed. Therefore I bear with thisChurch, until I shall see a better, and it cannot help bearing with me, until I shall myself be better. And he does not sail badly who steers amiddle course between two several evils. ' But was it possible to keep to that course? On either side people turnedaway from him. 'I who, formerly, in countless letters was addressed asthrice great hero, Prince of letters, Sun of studies, Maintainer of truetheology, am now ignored, or represented in quite different colours, ' hewrites. How many of his old friends and congenial spirits had alreadygone! A sufficient number remained, however, who thought and hoped as Erasmusdid. His untiring pen still continued to propagate, especially by meansof his letters, the moderating and purifying influence of his mindthroughout all the countries of Europe. Scholars, high churchdignitaries, nobles, students, and civil magistrates were hiscorrespondents. The Bishop of Basle himself, Christopher of Utenheim, was a man after Erasmus's heart. A zealous advocate of humanism, he hadattempted, as early as 1503, to reform the clergy of his bishopric bymeans of synodal statutes, without much success; afterwards he hadcalled scholars like Oecolampadius, Capito and Wimpfeling to Basle. Thatwas before the great struggle began, which was soon to carry awayOecolampadius and Capito much further than the Bishop of Basle orErasmus approved. In 1522 Erasmus addressed the bishop in a treatise _Deinterdicto esu carnium_ (_On the Prohibition of eating Meat_). This wasone of the last occasions on which he directly opposed the establishedorder. The bishop, however, could no longer control the movement. Aconsiderable number of the commonalty of Basle and the majority of thecouncil, were already on the side of radical Reformation. About a yearafter Erasmus, Johannes Oecolampadius, whose first residence at Baslehad also coincided with his (at that time he had helped Erasmus withHebrew for the edition of the New Testament), returned to the town withthe intention of organizing the resistance to the old order there. In1523 the council appointed him professor of Holy Scripture in theUniversity; at the same time four Catholic professors lost their places. He succeeded in obtaining general permission for unlicensed preaching. Soon a far more hot-headed agitator, the impetuous Guillaume Farel, alsoarrived for active work at Basle and in the environs. He is the man whowill afterwards reform Geneva and persuade Calvin to stay there. Though at first Oecolampadius began to introduce novelties into thechurch service with caution, Erasmus saw these innovations with alarm. Especially the fanaticism of Farel, whom he hated bitterly. It was thesemen who retarded what he still desired and thought possible: acompromise. His lambent spirit, which never fully decided in favour of adefinite opinion, had, with regard to most of the disputed points, gradually fixed on a half-conservative midway standpoint, by means ofwhich, without denying his deepest conviction, he tried to remainfaithful to the Church. In 1524 he had expressed his sentiments aboutconfession in the treatise _Exomologesis_ (_On the Way to confess_). Heaccepts it halfway: if not instituted by Christ or the Apostles, it was, in any case, by the Fathers. It should be piously preserved. Confessionis of excellent use, though, at times, a great evil. In this way hetries 'to admonish either party', 'neither to agree with nor to assail'the deniers, 'though inclining to the side of the believers'. In the long list of his polemics he gradually finds opportunities todefine his views somewhat; circumstantially, for instance, in theanswers to Alberto Pio, of 1525 and 1529. Subsequently it is always donein the form of an _Apologia_, whether he is attacked for the_Colloquia_, for the _Moria_, Jerome, the _Paraphrases_ or anythingelse. At last he recapitulates his views to some extent in _De amabiliEcclesiae concordia_ (_On the Amiable Concord of the Church_), of 1533, which, however, ranks hardly any more among his reformatory endeavours. On most points Erasmus succeeds in finding moderate and conservativeformulae. Even with regard to ceremonies he no longer merely rejects. Hefinds a kind word to say even for fasting, which he had always abhorred, for the veneration of relics and for Church festivals. He does not wantto abolish the worship of the Saints: it no longer entails danger ofidolatry. He is even willing to admit the images: 'He who takes theimagery out of life deprives it of its highest pleasure; we oftendiscern more in images than we conceive from the written word'. Regarding Christ's substantial presence in the sacrament of the altar heholds fast to the Catholic view, but without fervour, only on the groundof the Church's consensus, and because he cannot believe that Christ, who is truth and love, would have suffered His bride to cling so long toso horrid an error as to worship a crust of bread instead of Him. Butfor these reasons he might, at need, accept Oecolampadius's view. From the period at Basle dates one of the purest and most beneficentmoral treatises of Erasmus's, the _Institutio Christiani matrimonii_(_On Christian Marriage_) of 1526, written for Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England, quite in the spirit of the _Enchiridion_, save for acertain diffuseness betraying old age. Later follows _De viduaChristiana_, _The Christian Widow_, for Mary of Hungary, which is asimpeccable but less interesting. All this did not disarm the defenders of the old Church. They held fastto the clear picture of Erasmus's creed that arose from the _Colloquies_and that could not be called purely Catholic. There it appeared only tooclearly that, however much Erasmus might desire to leave the letterintact, his heart was not in the convictions which were vital to theCatholic Church. Consequently the _Colloquies_ were later, whenErasmus's works were expurgated, placed on the index in the lump, withthe _Moria_ and a few other works. The rest is _caute legenda_, to beread with caution. Much was rejected of the Annotations to the NewTestament, of the _Paraphrases_ and the _Apologiae_, very little of the_Enchiridion_, of the _Ratio verae theologiae_, and even of the_Exomologesis_. But this was after the fight against the living Erasmushad long been over. So long as he remained at Basle, or elsewhere, as the centre of a largeintellectual group whose force could not be estimated, just because itdid not stand out as a party--it was not known what turn he might yettake, what influence his mind might yet have on the Church. He remaineda king of minds in his quiet study. The hatred that was felt for him, the watching of all his words and actions, were of a nature as onlyfalls to the lot of the acknowledged great. The chorus of enemies wholaid the fault of the whole Reformation on Erasmus was not silenced. 'Helaid the eggs which Luther and Zwingli have hatched. ' With vexationErasmus quoted ever new specimens of narrow-minded, malicious and stupidcontroversy. At Constance there lived a doctor who had hung his portraiton the wall merely to spit at it as often as he passed it. Erasmusjestingly compares his fate to that of Saint Cassianus, who was stabbedto death by his pupils with pencils. Had he not been pierced to thequick for many years by the pens and tongues of countless people and didhe not live in that torment without death bringing the end? The keensensitiveness to opposition was seated very deeply with Erasmus. And hecould never forbear irritating others into opposing him. FOOTNOTES: [19] _Luther's religiöse Psyche_, Hochland XV, 1917, p. 21. CHAPTER XIX AT WAR WITH HUMANISTS AND REFORMERS 1528-9 Erasmus turns against the excesses of humanism: its paganism and pedantic classicism--_Ciceronianus_: 1528--It brings him new enemies--The Reformation carried through at Basle--He emigrates to Freiburg: 1529--His view concerning the results of the Reformation Nothing is more characteristic of the independence which Erasmusreserved for himself regarding all movements of his time than the factthat he also joined issue in the camp of the humanists. In 1528 therewere published by Froben (the chief of the firm of Johannes Froben hadjust died) two dialogues in one volume from Erasmus's hand: one aboutthe correct pronunciation of Latin and Greek, and one entitled_Ciceronianus_ or _On the Best Diction_, i. E. In writing and speakingLatin. Both were proofs that Erasmus had lost nothing of his livelinessand wit. The former treatise was purely philological, and as such hashad great influence; the other was satirical as well. It had a longhistory. Erasmus had always regarded classical studies as the panacea ofcivilization, provided they were made serviceable to pure Christianity. His sincere ethical feeling made him recoil from the obscenity of aPoggio and the immorality of the early Italian humanists. At the sametime his delicate and natural taste told him that a pedantic and servileimitation of antique models could never produce the desired result. Erasmus knew Latin too well to be strictly classical; his Latin wasalive and required freedom. In his early works we find taunts about theover-precise Latin purists: one had declared a newly found fragment ofCicero to be thoroughly barbaric; 'among all sorts of authors none areso insufferable to me as those apes of Cicero'. In spite of the great expectations he cherished of classical studies forpure Christianity, he saw one danger: 'that under the cloak of revivingancient literature paganism tries to rear its head, as there are thoseamong Christians who acknowledge Christ only in name but inwardlybreathe heathenism'. This he writes in 1517 to Capito. In Italy scholarsdevote themselves too exclusively and in too pagan guise to _bonaeliterae_. He considered it his special task to assist in bringing itabout that those _bonae literae_ 'which with the Italians have thus farbeen almost pagan, shall get used to speaking of Christ'. How it must have vexed Erasmus that in Italy of all countries he was, atthe same time and in one breath, charged with heresy and questioned inrespect to his knowledge and integrity as a scholar. Italians accusedhim of plagiarism and trickery. He complained of it to Aleander, who, hethought, had a hand in it. In a letter of 13 October 1527, to a professor at Toledo, we find the_ébauche_ of the _Ciceronianus_. In addition to the haters of classicstudies for the sake of orthodox belief, writes Erasmus, 'lately anotherand new sort of enemies has broken from their ambush. These are troubledthat the _bonae literae_ speak of Christ, as though nothing can beelegant but what is pagan. To their ears _Jupiter optimus maximus_sounds more pleasant than _Jesus Christus redemptor mundi_, and _patresconscripti_ more agreeable than _sancti apostoli_.... They account it agreater dishonour to be no Ciceronian than no Christian, as if Cicero, if he should now come to life again, would not speak of Christian thingsin other words than in his time he spoke of his own religion!... What isthe sense of this hateful swaggering with the name Ciceronian? I willtell you briefly, in your ear. With that pearl-powder they cover thepaganism that is dearer to them than the glory of Christ. ' To ErasmusCicero's style is by no means the ideal one. He prefers something moresolid, succinct, vigorous, less polished, more manly. He who sometimeshas to write a book in a day has no time to polish his style, often noteven to read it over.... 'What do I care for an empty dish of words, tenwords here and there mumped from Cicero: I want all Cicero's spirit. 'These are apes at whom one may laugh, for far more serious than thesethings are the tumults of the so-called new Gospel, to which he nextproceeds in this letter. And so, in the midst of all his polemics and bitter vindication, heallowed himself once more the pleasure of giving the reins to his loveof scoffing, but, as in the _Moria_ and _Colloquia_, ennobled by analmost passionate sincerity of Christian disposition and a natural senseof measure. The _Ciceronianus_ is a masterpiece of ready, many-sidedknowledge, of convincing eloquence, and of easy handling of a wealth ofarguments. With splendid, quiet and yet lively breadth flows the longconversation between Bulephorus, representing Erasmus's opinions, Hypologus, the interested inquirer, and Nosoponus, the zealousCiceronian, who, to preserve a perfect purity of mind, breakfasts offten currants. Erasmus in drawing Nosoponus had evidently, in the main, alluded to onewho could no longer reply: Christopher Longolius, who had died in 1522. The core of the _Ciceronianus_ is where Erasmus points out the danger toChristian faith of a too zealous classicism. He exclaims urgently: 'Itis paganism, believe me, Nosoponus, it is paganism that charms our earand our soul in such things. We are Christians in name alone. ' Why doesa classic proverb sound better to us than a quotation from the Bible:_corchorum inter olera_, 'chick-weed among the vegetables', better than'Saul among the prophets'? As a sample of the absurdity ofCiceronianism, he gives a translation of a dogmatic sentence inclassical language: 'Optimi maximique Jovis interpres ac filius, servator, rex, juxta vatum responsa, ex Olympo devolavit in terras, 'for: Jesus Christ, the Word and the Son of the eternal Father, came intothe world according to the prophets. Most humanists wrote indeed in thatstyle. Was Erasmus aware that he here attacked his own past? After all, was itnot exactly the same thing which he had done, to the indignation of hisopponents, when translating _Logos_ by _Sermo_ instead of by _Verbum_?Had he not himself desired that in the church hymns the metre should becorrected, not to mention his own classical odes and paeans to Mary andthe Saints? And was his warning against the partiality for classicproverbs and turns applicable to anything more than to the _Adagia_? We here see the aged Erasmus on the path of reaction, which mighteventually have led him far from humanism. In his combat with humanisticpurism he foreshadows a Christian puritanism. As always his mockery procured him a new flood of invectives. Bembo andSadolet, the masters of pure Latin, could afford to smile at it, but theimpetuous Julius Caesar Scaliger violently inveighed against him, especially to avenge Longolius's memory. Erasmus's perpetual feeling ofbeing persecuted got fresh food: he again thought that Aleander was atthe bottom of it. 'The Italians set the imperial court against me, ' hewrites in 1530. A year later all is quiet again. He writes jestingly:'Upon my word, I am going to change my style after Budaeus's model andto become a Ciceronian according to the example of Sadolet and Bembo'. But even near the close of his life he was engaged in a new contest withItalians, because he had hurt their national pride; 'they rage at me onall sides with slanderous libels, as at the enemy of Italy and Cicero'. * * * * * There were, as he had said himself, other difficulties touching him moreclosely. Conditions at Basle had for years been developing in adirection which distressed and alarmed him. When he established himselfthere in 1521, it might still have seemed to him as if the bishop, oldChristopher of Utenheim, a great admirer of Erasmus and a man after hisheart, would succeed in effecting a reformation at Basle, as he desiredit; abolishing acknowledged abuses, but remaining within the fold of theChurch. In that very year, 1521, however, the emancipation of themunicipality from the bishop's power--it had been in progress sinceBasle, in 1501, had joined the Swiss Confederacy--was consummated. Henceforth the council was number one, now no longer exclusively made upof aristocratic elements. In vain did the bishop ally himself with hiscolleagues of Constance and Lausanne to maintain Catholicism. In thetown the new creed got more and more the upper hand. When, however, in1525, it had come to open tumults against the Catholic service, thecouncil became more cautious and tried to reform more heedfully. Oecolampadius desired this, too. Relations between him and Erasmus wereprecarious. Erasmus himself had at one time directed the religiousthought of the impulsive, sensitive, restless young man. When he had, in1520, suddenly sought refuge in a convent, he had expressly justifiedthat step towards Erasmus, the condemner of binding vows. And now theysaw each other again at Basle, in 1522: Oecolampadius having left themonastery, a convinced adherent and apostle of the new doctrine;Erasmus, the great spectator which he wished to be. Erasmus treated hisold coadjutor coolly, and as the latter progressed, retreated more andmore. Yet he kept steering a middle course and in 1525 gave somemoderate advice to the council, which meanwhile had turned more Catholicagain. The old bishop, who for some years had no longer resided in his town, in1527 requested the chapter to relieve him of his office, and diedshortly afterwards. Then events moved very quickly. After Berne had, meanwhile, reformed itself in 1528, Oecolampadius demanded a decisionalso for Basle. Since the close of 1528 the town had been on the vergeof civil war. A popular rising put an end to the resistance of theCouncil and cleared it of Catholic members; and in February 1529 the oldservice was prohibited, the images were removed from the churches, theconvents abolished, and the University suspended. Oecolampadius becamethe first minister in the 'Münster' and leader of the Basle church, forwhich he soon drew up a reformatory ordinance. The new bishop remainedat Porrentruy, and the chapter removed to Freiburg. [Illustration: XXIII. ERASMUS'S RESIDENCE AT FREIBURG, 1529-31] The moment of departure had now come for Erasmus. His position at Baslein 1529 somewhat resembled, but in a reversed sense, the one at Louvainin 1521. Then the Catholics wanted to avail themselves of his servicesagainst Luther, now the Evangelicals would fain have kept him at Basle. For his name was still as a banner. His presence would strengthen theposition of reformed Basle; on the one hand, because, as peoplereasoned, if he were not of the same mind as the reformers, he wouldhave left the town long ago; on the other hand, because his figureseemed to guarantee moderation and might attract many hesitating minds. It was, therefore, again to safeguard his independence that Erasmuschanged his residence. It was a great wrench this time. Old age andinvalidism had made the restless man a stay-at-home. As he foresawtrouble from the side of the municipality, he asked ArchdukeFerdinand--who for his brother Charles V governed the German empire andjust then presided over the Diet of Speyer--to send him a safe conductfor the whole empire and an invitation, moreover, to come to court, which he did not dream of accepting. As place of refuge he had selectedthe not far distant town of Freiburg im Breisgau, which was directlyunder the strict government of the Austrian house, and where he, therefore, need not be afraid of such a turn of affairs as that atBasle. It was, moreover, a juncture at which the imperial authority andthe Catholic cause in Germany seemed again to be gaining ground rapidly. Erasmus would not or could not keep his departure a secret. He sent themost precious of his possessions in advance, and when this had drawnattention to his plan, he purposely invited Oecolampadius to a farewelltalk. The reformer declared his sincere friendship for Erasmus, whichthe latter did not decline, provided he granted him to differ on certainpoints of dogma. Oecolampadius tried to keep him from leaving the town, and, when it proved too late for that, to persuade him to return later. They took leave with a handshake. Erasmus had desired to join his boatat a distant landing-stage, but the Council would not allow this: he hadto start from the usual place near the Rhine bridge. A numerous crowdwitnessed his embarkation, 13 April 1529. Some friends were there to seehim off. No unfavourable demonstration occurred. His reception at Freiburg convinced him that, in spite of all, he wasstill the celebrated and admired prince of letters. The Council placedat his disposal the large, though unfinished, house built for theEmperor Maximilian himself; a professor of theology offered him hisgarden. Anthony Fugger had tried to draw him to Augsburg by means of ayearly allowance. For the rest he considered Freiburg by no means apermanent place of abode. 'I have resolved to remain here this winterand then to fly with the swallows to the place whither God shall callme. ' But he soon recognized the great advantage which Freiburg offered. The climate, to which he was so sensitive, turned out better than heexpected, and the position of the town was extremely favourable foremigrating to France, should circumstances require this, or for droppingdown the Rhine back to the Netherlands, whither many always called him. In 1531 he bought a house at Freiburg. The old Erasmus at Freiburg, ever more tormented by his painful malady, much more disillusioned than when he left Louvain in 1521, of moreconfirmed views as to the great ecclesiastical strife, will only befully revealed to us when his correspondence with Boniface Amerbach, thefriend whom he left behind at Basle--a correspondence not found completein the older collections--has been edited by Dr. Allen's care. From noperiod of Erasmus's life, it seems, may so much be gleaned, in point ofknowledge of his daily habits and thoughts, as from these very years. Work went on without a break in that great scholar's workshop where hedirects his famuli, who hunt manuscripts for him, and then copy andexamine them, and whence he sends forth his letters all over Europe. Inthe series of editions of the Fathers followed Basil and new editions ofChrysostom and Cyprian; his editions of classic authors were augmentedby the works of Aristotle. He revised and republished the _Colloquies_three more times, the _Adages_ and the New Testament once more. Occasional writings of a moral or politico-theological nature keptflowing from his pen. From the cause of the Reformation he was now quite estranged. 'Pseudevangelici', he contumeliously calls the reformed. 'I might havebeen a corypheus in Luther's church, ' he writes in 1528, 'but Ipreferred to incur the hatred of all Germany to being separate from thecommunity of the Church. ' The authorities should have paid a little lessattention at first to Luther's proceedings; then the fire would neverhave spread so violently. He had always urged theologians to let minorconcerns which only contain an appearance of piety rest, and to turn tothe sources of Scripture. Now it was too late. Towns and countriesunited ever more closely for or against the Reformation. 'If, what Ipray may never happen, ' he writes to Sadolet in 1530, 'you should seehorrible commotions of the world arise, not so fatal for Germany as forthe Church, then remember Erasmus prophesied it. ' To Beatus Rhenanus hefrequently said that, had he known that an age like theirs was coming, he would never have written many things, or would not have written themas he had. 'Just look, ' he exclaims, 'at the Evangelical people, have they becomeany better? Do they yield less to luxury, lust and greed? Show me a manwhom that Gospel has changed from a toper to a temperate man, from abrute to a gentle creature, from a miser into a liberal person, from ashameless to a chaste being. I will show you many who have become evenworse than they were. ' Now they have thrown the images out of thechurches and abolished mass (he is thinking of Basle especially): hasanything better come instead? 'I have never entered their churches, butI have seen them return from hearing the sermon, as if inspired by anevil spirit, the faces of all showing a curious wrath and ferocity, andthere was no one except one old man who saluted me properly, when Ipassed in the company of some distinguished persons. ' He hated that spirit of absolute assuredness so inseparably bound upwith the reformers. 'Zwingli and Bucer may be inspired by the Spirit, Erasmus from himself is nothing but a man and cannot comprehend what isof the Spirit. ' There was a group among the reformed to whom Erasmus in his heart ofhearts was more nearly akin than to the Lutherans or Zwinglians withtheir rigid dogmatism: the Anabaptists. He rejected the doctrine fromwhich they derived their name, and abhorred the anarchic element inthem. He remained far too much the man of spiritual decorum to identifyhimself with these irregular believers. But he was not blind to thesincerity of their moral aspirations and sympathized with their dislikeof brute force and the patience with which they bore persecution. 'Theyare praised more than all others for the innocence of their life, ' hewrites in 1529. Just in the last part of his life came the episode ofthe violent revolutionary proceedings of the fanatic Anabaptists; itgoes without saying that Erasmus speaks of it only with horror. One of the best historians of the Reformation, Walter Köhler, callsErasmus one of the spiritual fathers of Anabaptism. And certain it isthat in its later, peaceful development it has important traits incommon with Erasmus: a tendency to acknowledge free will, a certainrationalistic trend, a dislike of an exclusive conception of a Church. It seems possible to prove that the South German Anabaptist Hans Denkderived opinions directly from Erasmus. For a considerable part, however, this community of ideas must, no doubt, have been based onpeculiarities of religious consciousness in the Netherlands, whenceErasmus sprang, and where Anabaptism found such a receptive soil. Erasmus was certainly never aware of these connections. Some remarkable evidence regarding Erasmus's altered attitude towardsthe old and the new Church is shown by what follows. The reproach he had formerly so often flung at the advocates ofconservatism that they hated the _bonae literae_, so dear to him, andwanted to stifle them, he now uses against the evangelical party. 'Wherever Lutherism is dominant the study of literature is extinguished. Why else, ' he continues, using a remarkable sophism, 'are Luther andMelanchthon compelled to call back the people so urgently to the love ofletters?' 'Just compare the University of Wittenberg with that ofLouvain or Paris!... Printers say that before this Gospel came they usedto dispose of 3, 000 volumes more quickly than now of 600. A sure proofthat studies flourish!' CHAPTER XX LAST YEARS Religious and political contrasts grow sharper--The coming strife in Germany still suspended--Erasmus finishes his _Ecclesiastes_--Death of Fisher and More--Erasmus back at Basle: 1535--Pope Paul III wants to make him write in favour of the cause of the Council--Favours declined by Erasmus--_De Puritate Ecclesiae_--The end: 12 July 1536 During the last years of Erasmus's life all the great issues which keptthe world in suspense were rapidly taking threatening forms. Wherevercompromise or reunion had before still seemed possible, sharp conflicts, clearly outlined party-groupings, binding formulae were now barring theway to peace. While in the spring of 1529 Erasmus prepared for hisdeparture from Basle, a strong Catholic majority of the Diet at Speyergot the 'recess' of 1526, favourable for the Evangelicals, revoked, onlythe Lutherans among them keeping what they had obtained; and secured aprohibition of any further changes or novelties. The Zwinglians andAnabaptists were not allowed to enjoy the least tolerance. This wasimmediately followed by the Protest of the chief evangelical princes andtowns, which henceforth was to give the name to all anti-Catholicstogether (19 April 1529). And not only between Catholics and Protestantsin the Empire did the rupture become complete. Even before the end ofthat year the question of the Lord's supper proved an insuperablestumbling-block in the way of a real union of Zwinglians and Lutherans. Luther parted from Zwingli at the colloquy of Marburg with the words, 'Your spirit differs from ours'. In Switzerland civil war had openly broken out between the Catholic andthe Evangelical cantons, only calmed for a short time by the first peaceof Kappel. The treaties of Cambray and Barcelona, which in 1529 restoredat least political peace in Christendom for the time being, could nolonger draw from old Erasmus jubilations about a coming golden age, likethose with which the concord of 1516 had inspired him. A month later theTurks appeared before Vienna. All these occurrences could not but distress and alarm Erasmus. But hewas outside them. When reading his letters of that period we are morethan ever impressed by the fact that, for all the width and livelinessof his mind, he is remote from the great happenings of his time. Beyonda certain circle of interests, touching his own ideas or his person, hisperceptions are vague and weak. If he still meddles occasionally withquestions of the day, he does so in the moralizing manner, by means ofgeneralities, without emphasis: his 'Advice about declaring war on theTurks' (March 1530) is written in the form of an interpretation of Psalm28, and so vague that, at the close, he himself anticipates that thereader may exclaim: 'But now say clearly: do you think that war shouldbe declared or not?' In the summer of 1530 the Diet met again at Augsburg under the auspicesof the Emperor himself to try once more 'to attain to a good peace andChristian truth'. The Augsburg Confession, defended all too weakly byMelanchthon, was read here, disputed, and declared refuted by theEmperor. Erasmus had no share in all this. Many had exhorted him in letters tocome to Augsburg; but he had in vain expected a summons from theEmperor. At the instance of the Emperor's counsellors he had postponedhis proposed removal to Brabant in that autumn till after the decisionof the Diet. But his services were not needed for the drastic resolutionof repression with which the Emperor closed the session in November. The great struggle in Germany seemed to be approaching: the resolutionsof Augsburg were followed by the formation of the League of Schmalkaldenuniting all Protestant territories and towns of Germany in theiropposition to the Emperor. In the same year (1531) Zwingli was killed inthe battle of Kappel against the Catholic cantons, soon to be followedby Oecolampadius, who died at Basle. 'It is right', writes Erasmus, 'that those two leaders have perished. If Mars had been favourable tothem, we should now have been done for. ' In Switzerland a sort of equilibrium had set in; at any rate matters hadcome to a standstill; in Germany the inevitable struggle was postponedfor many years. The Emperor had understood that, to combat the GermanProtestants effectively, he should first get the Pope to hold theCouncil which would abolish the acknowledged abuses of the Church. Thereligious peace of Nuremberg (1532) put the seal upon this turn ofimperial policy. It might seem as if before long the advocates of moderate reform and ofa compromise might after all get a chance of being heard. But Erasmushad become too old to actively participate in the decisions (if he hadever seriously considered such participation). He does write a treatise, though, in 1533, 'On the sweet concord of the Church', like his 'Adviceon the Turks' in the form of an interpretation of a psalm (83). But itwould seem as if the old vivacity of his style and his power ofexpression, so long unimpaired, now began to flag. The same remarkapplies to an essay 'On the preparation for death', published the sameyear. His voice was growing weaker. During these years he turned his attention chiefly to the completion ofthe great work which more than any other represented for him the summingup and complete exposition of his moral-theological ideas:_Ecclesiastes_ or, _On the Way to preach_. Erasmus had always regardedpreaching as the most dignified part of an ecclesiastic's duties. Aspreachers, he had most highly valued Colet and Vitrarius. As early as1519 his friend, John Becar of Borselen, urged him to follow up the_Enchiridion_ of the Christian soldier and the _Institutio_ of theChristian prince, by the true instruction of the Christian preacher. 'Later, later, ' Erasmus had promised him, 'at present I have too muchwork, but I hope to undertake it soon. ' In 1523 he had already made asketch and some notes for it. It was meant for John Fisher, the Bishopof Rochester, Erasmus's great friend and brother-spirit, who eagerlylooked forward to it and urged the author to finish it. The workgradually grew into the most voluminous of Erasmus's original writings:a forest of a work, _operis sylvam_, he calls it himself. In four bookshe treated his subject, the art of preaching well and decorously, withan inexhaustible abundance of examples, illustrations, schemes, etc. Butwas it possible that a work, conceived already by the Erasmus of 1519, and upon which he had been so long engaged, while he himself hadgradually given up the boldness of his earlier years, could still be arevelation in 1533, as the _Enchiridion_ had been in its day? _Ecclesiastes_ is the work of a mind fatigued, which no longer sharplyreacts upon the needs of his time. As the result of a correct, intellectual, tasteful instruction in a suitable manner of preaching, inaccordance with the purity of the Gospel, Erasmus expects to see societyimprove. 'The people become more obedient to the authorities, morerespectful towards the law, more peaceable. Between husband and wifecomes greater concord, more perfect faithfulness, greater dislike ofadultery. Servants obey more willingly, artisans work better, merchantscheat no more. ' At the same time that Erasmus took this work to Froben, at Basle, toprint, a book of a young Frenchman, who had recently fled from France toBasle, passed through the press of another Basle printer, ThomasPlatter. It too was to be a manual of the life of faith: the_Institution of the Christian Religion_, by Calvin. * * * * * Even before Erasmus had quite completed the _Ecclesiastes_, the man forwhom the work had been meant was no more. Instead of to the Bishop ofRochester, Erasmus dedicated his voluminous work to the Bishop ofAugsburg, Christopher of Stadion. John Fisher, to set a seal on hisspiritual endeavours, resembling those of Erasmus in so many respects, had left behind, as a testimony to the world, for which Erasmus knewhimself too weak, that of martyrdom. On 22 June 1535, he was beheaded bycommand of Henry VIII. He died for being faithful to the old Church. Together with More he had steadfastly refused to take the oath to theStatute of Supremacy. Not two weeks after Fisher, Thomas More mountedthe scaffold. The fate of those two noblest of his friends grievedErasmus. It moved him to do what for years he had no longer done: towrite a poem. But rather than in the fine Latin measure of that _Carmenheroïcum_ one would have liked to hear his emotion in language ofsincere dismay and indignation in his letters. They are hardly there. Inthe words devoted to Fisher's death in the preface to the _Ecclesiastes_there is no heartfelt emotion. Also in his letters of those days, hespeaks with reserve. 'Would More had never meddled with that dangerousbusiness, and left the theological cause to the theologians. ' As if Morehad died for aught but simply for his conscience! * * * * * When Erasmus wrote these words, he was no longer at Freiburg. He had inJune 1535 gone to Basle, to work in Froben's printing-office, as of old;the _Ecclesiastes_ was at last going to press and still required carefulsupervision and the final touches during the process; the _Adagia_ hadto be reprinted, and a Latin edition of Origenes was in preparation. Theold, sick man was cordially received by the many friends who still livedat Basle. Hieronymus Froben, Johannes's son, who after his father'sdeath managed the business with two relatives, sheltered him in hishouse _Zum Luft_. In the hope of his return a room had been builtexpressly for him and fitted up as was convenient for him. Erasmus foundthat at Basle the ecclesiastical storms which had formerly driven himaway had subsided. Quiet and order had returned. He did feel a spirit ofdistrust in the air, it is true, 'but I think that, on account of myage, of habit, and of what little erudition I possess, I have now got sofar that I may live in safety anywhere'. At first he had regarded theremoval as an experiment. He did not mean to stay at Basle. If hishealth could not stand the change of air, he would return to his fine, well-appointed, comfortable house at Freiburg. If he should prove ableto bear it, then the choice was between the Netherlands (probablyBrussels, Malines or Antwerp, perhaps Louvain) or Burgundy, inparticular Besançon. Towards the end of his life he clung to theillusion which he had been cherishing for a long time that Burgundy winealone was good for him and kept his malady in check. There is somethingpathetic in the proportions which this wine-question gradually assumes:that it is so dear at Basle might be overlooked, but the thievishwagoners drink up or spoil what is imported. In August he doubted greatly whether he will return to Freiburg. InOctober he sold his house and part of his furniture and had the resttransported to Basle. After the summer he hardly left his room, and wasmostly bedridden. Though the formidable worker in him still yearned for more years andtime to labour, his soul was ready for death. Happy he had never felt;only during the last years he utters his longing for the end. He wasstill, curiously enough, subject to the delusion of being in the thickof the struggle. 'In this arena I shall have to fall, ' he writes in1533. 'Only this consoles me, that near at hand already, the generalhaven comes in sight, which, if Christ be favourable, will bring the endof all labour and trouble. ' Two years later his voice sounds moreurgent: 'That the Lord might deign to call me out of this raving worldto His rest'. Most of his old friends were gone. Warham and Mountjoy had passed awaybefore More and Fisher; Peter Gilles, so many years younger than he, haddeparted in 1533; also Pirckheimer had been dead for years. BeatusRhenanus shows him to us, during the last months of his life, re-perusing his friends' letters of the last few years, and repeating:'This one, too, is dead'. As he grew more solitary, his suspiciousnessand his feeling of being persecuted became stronger. 'My friendsdecrease, my enemies increase, ' he writes in 1532, when Warham has diedand Aleander has risen still higher. In the autumn of 1535 he thinksthat all his former servant-pupils betray him, even the best belovedones like Quirin Talesius and Charles Utenhove. They do not write tohim, he complains. [Illustration: XXIV. CARDINAL JEROME ALEANDER] In October 1534, Pope Clement VII was succeeded by Paul III, who at oncezealously took up the Council-question. The meeting of a Council was, inthe eyes of many, the only means by which union could be restored to theChurch, and now a chance of realizing this seemed nigh. At once the mostlearned theologians were invited to help in preparing the great work. Erasmus did not omit, in January 1535, to address to the new Pope aletter of congratulation, in which he professed his willingness toco-operate in bringing about the pacification of the Church, and warnedthe Pope to steer a cautious middle course. On 31 May followed a replyfull of kindliness and acknowledgement. The Pope exhorted Erasmus, 'thatyou too, graced by God with so much laudable talent and learning, mayhelp Us in this pious work, which is so agreeable to your mind, todefend, with Us, the Catholic religion, by the spoken and the writtenword, before and during the Council, and in this manner by this lastwork of piety, as by the best act to close a life of religion and somany writings, to refute your accusers and rouse your admirers to freshefforts. ' Would Erasmus in years of greater strength have seen his way toco-operate actively in the council of the great? Undoubtedly, the Pope'sexhortation correctly represented his inclination. But once faced by thenecessity of hard, clear resolutions, what would he have effected? Wouldhis spirit of peace and toleration, of reserve and compromise, havebrought alleviation and warded off the coming struggle? He was sparedthe experiment. He knew himself too weak to be able to think of strenuouschurch-political propaganda any more. Soon there came proofs that thekindly feelings at Rome were sincere. There had been some question alsoof numbering Erasmus among the cardinals who were to be nominated with aview to the Council; a considerable benefice connected with the churchof Deventer was already offered him. But Erasmus urged the Roman friendswho were thus active in his behalf to cease their kind offices; he wouldaccept nothing, he a man who lived from day to day in expectation ofdeath and often hoping for it, who could hardly ever leave hisroom--would people instigate _him_ to hunt for deaneries and cardinals'hats! He had subsistence enough to last him. He wanted to dieindependent. Yet his pen did not rest. The _Ecclesiastes_ had been printed andpublished and _Origenes_ was still to follow. Instead of the importantand brilliant task to which Rome called him, he devoted his laststrength to a simple deed of friendly cordiality. The friend to whoseshare the honour fell to receive from the old, death-sick author a lastcomposition prepared expressly for him, amidst the most terrible pains, was the most modest of the number who had not lost their faith in him. No prelate or prince, no great wit or admired divine, but ChristopherEschenfelder, customs officer at Boppard on the Rhine. On his passage in1518 Erasmus had, with glad surprise, found him to be a reader of hiswork and a man of culture. [20] That friendship had been a lasting one. Eschenfelder had asked Erasmus to dedicate the interpretation of somepsalm to him (a form of composition often preferred by Erasmus of late). About the close of 1535 he remembered that request. He had forgottenwhether Eschenfelder had indicated a particular psalm and chose one athaphazard, Psalm 14, calling the treatise 'On the purity of theChristian Church'. He expressly dedicated it to 'the publican' inJanuary 1536. It is not remarkable among his writings as to contents andform, but it was to be his last. On 12 February 1536, Erasmus made his final preparations. In 1527 he hadalready made a will with detailed clauses for the printing of hiscomplete works by Froben. In 1534 he drew up an accurate inventory ofhis belongings. He sold his library to the Polish nobleman Johannes aLasco. The arrangements of 1536 testify to two things which had playedan important part in his life: his relations with the house of Frobenand his need of friendship. Boniface Amerbach is his heir. HieronymusFroben and Nicholas Episcopius, the managers of the business, are hisexecutors. To each of the good friends left to him he bequeathed one ofthe trinkets which spoke of his fame with princes and the great ones ofthe earth, in the first place to Louis Ber and Beatus Rhenanus. The poorand the sick were not forgotten, and he remembered especially girlsabout to marry and youths of promise. The details of this charity heleft to Amerbach. In March 1536, he still thinks of leaving for Burgundy. Money mattersoccupy him and he speaks of the necessity of making new friends, for theold ones leave him: the Bishop of Cracow, Zasius at Freiburg. Accordingto Beatus Rhenanus, the Brabant plan stood foremost at the end ofErasmus's life. The Regent, Mary of Hungary, did not cease to urge himto return to the Netherlands. Erasmus's own last utterance leaves us indoubt whether he had made up his mind. 'Though I am living here with themost sincere friends, such as I did not possess at Freiburg, I shouldyet, on account of the differences of doctrine, prefer to end my lifeelsewhere. If only Brabant were nearer. ' This he writes on 28 June 1536. He had felt so poorly for some days thathe had not even been able to read. In the letter we again trace thedelusion that Aleander persecutes him, sets on opponents against him, and even lays snares for his friends. Did his mind at last give way too? On 12 July the end came. The friends around his couch heard him groanincessantly: 'O Jesu, misericordia; Domine libera me; Domine misereremei!' And at last in Dutch: 'Lieve God. ' FOOTNOTES: [20] See Erasmus's letter, p. 224. CHAPTER XXI CONCLUSION Conclusion--Erasmus and the spirit of the sixteenth century--His weak points--A thorough idealist and yet a moderate mind--The enlightener of a century--He anticipates tendencies of two centuries later--His influence affects both Protestantism and Catholic reform--The Erasmian spirit in the Netherlands Looking back on the life of Erasmus the question still arises: why hashe remained so great? For ostensibly his endeavours ended in failure. Hewithdraws in alarm from that tremendous struggle which he rightly callsa tragedy; the sixteenth century, bold and vehement, thunders past him, disdaining his ideal of moderation and tolerance. Latin literaryerudition, which to him was the epitome of all true culture, has goneout as such. Erasmus, so far as regards the greater part of hiswritings, is among the great ones who are no longer read. He has becomea name. But why does that name still sound so clear and articulate? Whydoes he keep regarding us, as if he still knew a little more than he hasever been willing to utter? What has he been to his age, and what was he to be for latergenerations? Has he been rightly called a precursor of the modernspirit? Regarded as a child of the sixteenth century, he does seem to differfrom the general tenor of his times. Among those vehemently passionate, drastically energetic and violent natures of the great ones of his day, Erasmus stands as the man of too few prejudices, with a little too muchdelicacy of taste, with a deficiency, though not, indeed, in everydepartment, of that _stultitia_ which he had praised as a necessaryconstituent of life. Erasmus is the man who is too sensible and moderatefor the heroic. What a surprising difference there is between the _accent_ of Erasmusand that of Luther, Calvin, and Saint Teresa! What a difference, also, between his accent, that is, the accent of humanism, and that ofAlbrecht Dürer, of Michelangelo, or of Shakespeare. Erasmus seems, at times, the man who was not strong enough for his age. In that robust sixteenth century it seems as if the oaken strength ofLuther was necessary, the steely edge of Calvin, the white heat ofLoyola; not the velvet softness of Erasmus. Not only were their forceand their fervour necessary, but also their depth, their unsparing, undaunted consistency, sincerity and outspokenness. They cannot bear that smile which makes Luther speak of the guilefulbeing looking out of Erasmus's features. His piety is too even for them, too limp. Loyola has testified that the reading of the _Enchiridionmilitis Christiani_ relaxed his fervour and made his devotion grow cold. He saw that warrior of Christ differently, in the glowing colours of theSpanish-Christian, medieval ideal of chivalry. Erasmus had never passed through those depths of self-reprobation andthat consciousness of sin which Luther had traversed with toil; he sawno devil to fight with, and tears were not familiar to him. Was healtogether unaware of the deepest mystery? Or did it rest in him toodeep for utterance? Let us not suppose too quickly that we are more nearly allied to Lutheror Loyola because their figures appeal to us more. If at present ouradmiration goes out again to the ardently pious, and to spiritualextremes, it is partly because our unstable time requires strongstimuli. To appreciate Erasmus we should begin by giving up ouradmiration of the extravagant, and for many this requires a certaineffort at present. It is extremely easy to break the staff over Erasmus. His faults lie on the surface, and though he wished to hide many things, he never hid his weaknesses. He was too much concerned about what people thought, and he could nothold his tongue. His mind was _too_ rich and facile, always suggesting asuperfluity of arguments, cases, examples, quotations. He could neverlet things slide. All his life he grudged himself leisure to rest andcollect himself, to see how unimportant after all was the commotionround about him, if only he went his own way courageously. Rest andindependence he desired most ardently of all things; there was no morerestless and dependent creature. Judge him as one of a too delicateconstitution who ventures out in a storm. His will-power was greatenough. He worked night and day, amidst the most violent bodilysuffering, with a great ideal steadfastly before him, never satisfiedwith his own achievements. He was not self-sufficient. * * * * * As an intellectual type Erasmus was one of a rather small group: theabsolute idealists who, at the same time, are thoroughly moderate. Theycan not bear the world's imperfections; they feel constrained to oppose. But extremes are uncongenial to them; they shrink back from action, because they know it pulls down as much as it erects, and so theywithdraw themselves, and keep calling that everything should bedifferent; but when the crisis comes, they reluctantly side withtradition and conservatism. Here too is a fragment of Erasmus'slife-tragedy: he was the man who saw the new and coming things moreclearly than anyone else--who must needs quarrel with the old and yetcould not accept the new. He tried to remain in the fold of the oldChurch, after having damaged it seriously, and renounced theReformation, and to a certain extent even Humanism, after havingfurthered both with all his strength. [Illustration: XXV. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 65] * * * * * Our final opinion about Erasmus has been concerned with negativequalities, so far. What was his positive importance? Two facts make it difficult for the modern mind to understand Erasmus'spositive importance: first that his influence was extensive rather thanintensive, and therefore less historically discernible at definitepoints, and second, that his influence has ceased. He has done his workand will speak to the world no more. Like Saint Jerome, his reveredmodel, and Voltaire, with whom he has been occasionally compared, 'hehas his reward'. But like them he has been the enlightener of an agefrom whom a broad stream of culture emanated. [Illustration: XXVI. ERASMUS DICTATING TO HIS SECRETARY, 1530] As historic investigation of the French Revolution is becoming more andmore aware that the true history of France during that period should belooked for in those groups which as 'Centre' or 'Marais' seemed for along time but a drove of supernumeraries, and understands that it shouldoccasionally protect its eyes a little from the lightning flashes of theGironde and Mountain thunderstorm; so the history of the Reformationperiod should pay attention--and it has done so for a long time--to thebroad central sphere permeated by the Erasmian spirit. One of hisopponents said: 'Luther has drawn a large part of the Church to himself, Zwingli and Oecolampadius also some part, but Erasmus the largest'. Erasmus's public was numerous and of high culture. He was the only oneof the Humanists who really wrote for all the world, that is to say, forall educated people. He accustomed a whole world to another and morefluent mode of expression: he shifted the interest, he influenced by hisperfect clarity of exposition, even through the medium of Latin, thestyle of the vernacular languages, apart from the numberlesstranslations of his works. For his contemporaries Erasmus put on manynew stops, one might say, of the great organ of human expression, asRousseau was to do two centuries later. He might well think with some complacency of the influence he hadexerted on the world. 'From all parts of the world'--he writes towardsthe close of his life--'I am daily thanked by many, because they havebeen kindled by my works, whatever may be their merit, into zeal for agood disposition and sacred literature; and they who have never seenErasmus, yet know and love him from his books. ' He was glad that histranslations from the Greek had become superfluous; he had everywhereled many to take up Greek and Holy Scripture, 'which otherwise theywould never have read'. He had been an introducer and an initiator. Hemight leave the stage after having said his say. His word signified something beyond a classical sense and biblicaldisposition. It was at the same time the first enunciation of the creedof education and perfectibility, of warm social feeling and of faith inhuman nature, of peaceful kindliness and toleration. 'Christ dwellseverywhere; piety is practised under every garment, if only a kindlydisposition is not wanting. ' In all these ideas and convictions Erasmus really heralds a later age. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries those thoughts remained anundercurrent: in the eighteenth Erasmus's message of deliverance borefruit. In this respect he has most certainly been a precursor andpreparer of the modern mind: of Rousseau, Herder, Pestalozzi and of theEnglish and American thinkers. It is only part of the modern mind whichis represented by all this. To a number of its developments Erasmus waswholly a stranger, to the evolution of natural science, of the newerphilosophy, of political economy. But in so far as people still believein the ideal that moral education and general tolerance may makehumanity happier, humanity owes much to Erasmus. * * * * * This does not imply that Erasmus's mind did not directly and fruitfullyinfluence his own times. Although Catholics regarded him in the heat ofthe struggle as the corrupter of the Church, and Protestants as thebetrayer of the Gospel, yet his word of moderation and kindliness didnot pass by unheard or unheeded on either side. Eventually neither campfinally rejected Erasmus. Rome did not brand him as an arch-heretic, butonly warned the faithful to read him with caution. Protestant historyhas been studious to reckon him as one of the Reformers. Both obeyed inthis the pronouncement of a public opinion which was above parties andwhich continued to admire and revere Erasmus. To the reconstruction of the Catholic Church and the erection of theevangelical churches not only the names of Luther and Loyola are linked. The moderate, the intellectual, the conciliating have also had theirshare of the work; figures like Melanchthon here, Sadolet there, bothnearly allied to Erasmus and sympathetically disposed towards him. Thefrequently repeated attempts to arrive at some compromise in the greatreligious conflict, though they might be doomed to end in failure, emanated from the Erasmian spirit. Nowhere did that spirit take root so easily as in the country that gaveErasmus birth. A curious detail shows us that it was not the exclusiveprivilege of either great party. Of his two most favoured pupils oflater years, both Netherlanders, whom as the actors of the colloquy_Astragalismus_ (_The Game of Knucklebones_), he has immortalizedtogether, the one, Quirin Talesius, died for his attachment to theSpanish cause and the Catholic faith: he was hanged in 1572 by thecitizens of Haarlem, where he was a burgomaster. The other, CharlesUtenhove, was sedulous on the side of the revolt and the Reformedreligion. At Ghent, in concert with the Prince of Orange, he turnedagainst the narrow-minded Protestant terrorism of the zealots. A Dutch historian recently tried to trace back the opposition of theDutch against the king of Spain to the influence of Erasmus's politicalthought in his arraignment of bad princes--wrongly as I think. Erasmus'spolitical diatribes were far too academic and too general for that. Thedesire of resistance and revolt arose from quite other causes. The'Gueux' were not Erasmus's progeny. But there is much that is Erasmianin the spirit of their great leader, William of Orange, whose visionranged so widely beyond the limitations of religious hatred. Thoroughlypermeated by the Erasmian spirit, too, was that class of municipalmagistrates who were soon to take the lead and to set the fashion in theestablished Republic. History is wont, as always with an aristocracy, totake their faults very seriously. After all, perhaps no otheraristocracy, unless it be that of Venice, has ruled a state so long, sowell and with so little violence. If in the seventeenth century theinstitutions of Holland, in the eyes of foreigners, were the admiredmodels of prosperity, charity and social discipline, and patterns ofgentleness and wisdom, however defective they may seem to us--then thehonour of all this is due to the municipal aristocracy. If in the Dutchpatriciate of that time those aspirations lived and were translated intoaction, it was Erasmus's spirit of social responsibility which inspiredthem. The history of Holland is far less bloody and cruel than that ofany of the surrounding countries. Not for naught did Erasmus praise astruly Dutch those qualities which we might also call truly Erasmian:gentleness, kindliness, moderation, a generally diffused moderateerudition. Not romantic virtues, if you like; but are they the lesssalutary? One more instance. In the Republic of the Seven Provinces the atrociousexecutions of witches and wizards ceased more than a century before theydid in all other countries. This was not owing to the merit of theReformed pastors. They shared the popular belief which demandedpersecution. It was the magistrates whose enlightenment even as early asthe beginning of the seventeenth century no longer tolerated thesethings. Again, we are entitled to say, though Erasmus was not one ofthose who combated this practice: the spirit which breathes from this isthat of Erasmus. Cultured humanity has cause to hold Erasmus's memory in esteem, if forno other reason than that he was the fervently sincere preacher of thatgeneral kindliness which the world still so urgently needs. SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS OF ERASMUS _This selection from the vast correspondence of Erasmus is intended toexhibit him at a few points in his strenuous and rather comfortlesslife, always overworked, often ill, and perpetually hurried--many of hisletters have the postscript 'In haste' or 'I had no time to read thisover'--but holding always tenaciously to his aim of steering a middlecourse; in religion between the corruption and fossilization of the oldand the uncompromising violence of the new: in learning betweenneo-paganism on the one hand and the indolent refusal, under the pretextof piety, to apply critical methods to sacred texts on the other. Thefirst letter has been included because it may provide a clue to hislater reluctance to trust his feelings when self-committal to any causeseemed to be required of him, a reluctance not unnaturally interpretedby his enemies as an arrogant refusal to 'yield to any'. _ _The notes have been compiled from P. S. And H. M. Allen's_ Opusepistolarum Des. Erasmi Roterodami, _Oxford, 1906-47, by the kindpermission of the Delegates of the Clarendon Press, and references areto the numbers of the letters in that edition_. I. TO SERVATIUS ROGER[21] [Steyn, _c. _ 1487] To his friend Servatius, greetings: ... You say there is something which you take very hard, which tormentsyou wretchedly, which in short makes life a misery to you. Your looksand your carriage betray this, even if you were silent. Where is yourwonted and beloved cheerful countenance gone, your former beauty, yourlively glance? Whence come these sorrowful downcast eyes, whence thisperpetual silence, so unlike you, whence the look of a sick man in yourexpression? Assuredly as the poet says, 'the sick body betrays thetorments of the lurking soul, likewise its joys: it is to the mind thatthe face owes its looks, well or ill'. [22] It is certain then, my Servatius, that there is something which troublesyou, which is destroying your former good health. But what am I to donow? Must I comfort you or scold you? Why do you hide your pain from meas if we did not know each other by this time? You are so deep that youdo not believe your closest friend, or trust even the most trustworthy;or do you not know that the hidden fire burns stronger?... And for therest, my Servatius, what is it makes you draw in and hide yourself likea snail? I suspect what the matter is: you have not yet convincedyourself that I love you very much. So I entreat you by the thingssweetest to you in life, by our great love, if you have any care foryour safety, if you want me to live unharmed, not to be at such pains tohide your feelings, but whatever it is, entrust it to my safe ears. Iwill assist you in whatever way I can with help or counsel. But if Icannot provide either, still it will be sweet to rejoice with you, toweep with you, to live and die with you. Farewell, my Servatius, andlook after your health. II. TO NICHOLAS WERNER[23] Paris, 13 September [1496] To the religious Father Nicholas Werner, greetings: ... If you are all well there, things are as I wish and hope; I myselfam very well, the gods be thanked. I have now made clear by myactions--if it was not clear to anyone before this--how much theology iscoming to mean to me. A somewhat arrogant claim; but it ill becomesErasmus to hide anything from his most loving Father. Lately I hadfallen in with certain Englishmen, of noble birth, and all of themwealthy. Very recently I was approached by a young priest, [24] veryrich, who said he had refused a bishopric offered him, as he knew thathe was not well educated; nevertheless he is to be recalled by the Kingto take a bishopric within a year, although, apart from any bishopriceven, he has a yearly income of more than 2000 _scudi_. As soon as heheard of my learning he proceeded in unbelievably affectionate fashionto devote himself to me, to frequent and revere me--he lived for a whilein my house. He offered 100 _scudi_, if I would teach him for a year; heoffered a benefice in a few months' time; he offered to lend me 300_scudi_, if I should need them to procure the office, until I could paythem back out of the benefice. By this service I could have laid all theEnglish in this city under an obligation to me--they are all of thefirst families--and through them all England, had I so wished. But Icared nothing for the splendid income and the far more splendidprospects; I cared nothing for their entreaties and the tears whichaccompanied them. I am telling the truth, exaggerating not at all; theEnglish realize that the money of all England means nothing to me. Thisrefusal, which I still maintain, was not made without due consideration;not for any reward will I let myself be drawn away from theologicalstudies. I did not come here to teach or to pile up gold, but to learn. Indeed I shall seek a Doctorate in Theology, if the gods so will it. The Bishop of Cambrai is marvellously fond of me: he makes liberalpromises; the remittances are not so liberal, to tell the truth. I wishyou good health, excellent Father. I beg and entreat you to commend mein your prayers to God: I shall do likewise for you. From my library inParis. III. TO ROBERT FISHER[25] London, 5 December [1499] To Robert Fisher, Englishman, abiding in Italy, greetings: ... I hesitated not a little to write to you, beloved Robert, not that Ifeared lest so great a sunderance in time and place had worn awayanything of your affection towards me, but because you are in a countrywhere even the house-walls are more learned and more eloquent than areour men here, so that what is here reckoned polished, fine anddelectable cannot there appear anything but crude, mean and insipid. Wherefore your England assuredly expects you to return not merely verylearned in the law but also equally eloquent in both the Greek and theLatin tongues. You would have seen me also there long since, had not myfriend Mountjoy carried me off to his country when I was already packedfor the journey into Italy. Whither indeed shall I not follow a youth sopolite, so kindly, so lovable? I swear I would follow him even intoHades. You indeed had most handsomely commended him and, in a word, precisely delineated him; but believe me, he every day surpasses bothyour commendation and my opinion of him. But you ask how England pleases me. If you have any confidence in me, dear Robert, I would have you believe me when I say that I have neveryet liked anything so well. I have found here a climate as delightful asit is wholesome; and moreover so much humane learning, not of theoutworn, commonplace sort, but the profound, accurate, ancient Greek andLatin learning, that I now scarcely miss Italy, but for the sight of it. When I listen to my friend Colet, I seem to hear Plato himself. Whowould not marvel at the perfection of encyclopaedic learning inGrocyn?[26] What could be keener or nobler or nicer than Linacre's[27]judgement? What has Nature ever fashioned gentler or sweeter or happierthan the character of Thomas More? But why should I catalogue the rest?It is marvellous how thick upon the ground the harvest of ancientliterature is here everywhere flowering forth: all the more should youhasten your return hither. Your friend's affection and remembrance ofyou is so strong that he speaks of none so often or so gladly. Farewell. Written in haste in London on the 5th of December. IV. TO JAMES BATT[28] Orléans [_c. _ 12 December] 1500 ... If you care sincerely what becomes of your Erasmus, do you act thus:plead my shyness before my Lady[29] in pleasant phrases, as if I had notbeen able to bring myself to reveal my poverty to her in person. But youmust write that I am now in a state of extreme poverty, owing to thegreat expense of this flight to Orléans, as I had to leave people fromwhom I was making some money. Tell her that Italy is by far the mostsuitable place in which to take the Degree of Doctor, and that it isimpossible for a fastidious man to go to Italy without a large sum ofmoney; particularly because I am not even at liberty to live meanly, onaccount of my reputation, such as it is, for learning. You will explainhow much greater fame I am likely to bring my Lady by my learning thanare the other theologians maintained by her. They compose commonplaceharangues: I write works destined to live for ever. Their ignoranttriflings are heard by one or two persons in church: my books will beread by Latins, Greeks, by every race all over the world. Tell her thatthis kind of unlearned theologian is to be found in hordes everywhere, whereas a man like myself is hardly to be found once in many centuries;unless indeed you are so superstitious that you scruple to employ a fewharmless lies to help a friend. Then you must point out that she willnot be a whit the poorer if, with a few gold pieces, she helps torestore the corrupt text of St. Jerome and the true Theology, when somuch of her wealth is being shamelessly dissipated. After dilating onthis with your customary ingenuity and writing at length on mycharacter, my expectations, my affection for my Lady and my shyness, youmust then add that I have written to say that I need 200 francs in all, and request her to grant me next year's payment now; I am not inventingthis, my dear Batt; to go to Italy with 100 francs, no, less than 100francs, seems to me a hazardous enterprise, unless I want to enslavemyself to someone once more; may I die before I do this. Then how littledifference it will make to her whether she gives me the money this yearor next, and how much it means to me! Next urge her to look out for abenefice for me, so that on my return I may have some place where I canpursue learning in peace. Do not stop at this, but devise on your ownthe most convenient method of indicating to her that she should promiseme, before all the other candidates, at least a reasonable, if not asplendid, benefice which I can change as soon as a better one appears. Iam well aware that there are many candidates for benefices; but you mustsay that I am the one man, whom, compared with the rest, etc. , etc. Youknow your old way of lying profusely about Erasmus.... You will add atthe end that I have made the same complaint in my letter which Jeromemakes more than once in his letters, that study is tearing my eyes out, that things look as if I shall have to follow his example and begin tostudy with my ears and tongue only; and persuade her, in the mostamusing words at your command, to send me some sapphire or other gemwherewith to fortify my eyesight. I would have told you myself whichgems have this virtue, but I have not Pliny at hand; get the informationout of your doctor.... Let me tell you what else I want you to attemptstill further--to extract a grant from the Abbot. You know him--inventsome modest and persuasive argument for making this request. Tell himthat I have a great design in hand--to constitute in its entirety thetext of Jerome, which has been corrupted, mutilated, and thrown intodisorder through the ignorance of the theologians (I have detected manyfalse and spurious pieces among his writings), and to restore theGreek. [30] I shall reveal [in him] an ingenuity and a knowledge ofantiquities which no one, I venture to claim, has yet realized. Explainthat for this undertaking many books are needed, also Greek works, sothat I may receive a grant. Here you will not be lying, Batt; I amwholly engaged on this work. Farewell, my best and dearest Batt, and putall of Batt into this business. I mean Batt the friend, not Batt theslowcoach. V. TO ANTONY OF BERGEN[31] [Paris?] [16 March? 1501] To the most illustrious prelate Antony, Abbot of St. Bertin, greetings: ... I have accidentally happened upon some Greek books, and am busy dayand night secretly copying them out. I shall be asked why I am sodelighted with Cato the Censor's example that I want to turn Greek at myage. Indeed, most excellent Father, if in my boyhood I had been of thismind, or rather if time had not been wanting, I should be the happiestof men. As things are, I think it better to learn, even if a littlelate, than not to know things which it is of the first importance tohave at one's command. I have already tasted of Greek literature in thepast, but merely (as the saying goes) sipped at it; however, havinglately gone a little deeper into it, I perceive--as one has often readin the best authorities--that Latin learning, rich as it is, isdefective and incomplete without Greek; for we have but a few smallstreams and muddy puddles, while they have pure springs and riversrolling gold. I see that it is utter madness even to touch the branch oftheology which deals chiefly with the mysteries unless one is alsoprovided with the equipment of Greek, as the translators of theScriptures, owing to their conscientious scruples, render Greek forms insuch a fashion that not even the primary sense (what our theologianscall the _literal_ sense) can be understood by persons ignorant ofGreek. Who could understand the sentence in the Psalm [Ps. 50. 4 (51. 3)]_Et peccatum meum contra me est semper_, [32] unless he has read theGreek? This runs as follows: [Greek: kai hê hamartia mou enôpion mouesti diapantos]. At this point some theologian will spin a long story ofhow the flesh is perpetually in conflict with the spirit, having beenmisled by the double meaning of the preposition, that is, _contra_, whenthe word [Greek: enôpion] refers not to _conflict_ but to _position_, asif you were to say _opposite_, i. E. , _in sight_: so that the Prophet'smeaning was that his fault was so hateful to him that the memory of itnever left him, but floated always before his mind as if it werepresent. Further in a passage elsewhere [Ps. 91 (92. 14)], _Benepatientes erunt ut annuncient_, everyone will be misled by the deceptiveform, unless he has learned from the Greek that, just as according toLatin usage we say _bene facere_ of those who _do good to_ someone, sothe Greeks call [Greek: eupathountas] (_bene patientes_) those who_suffer good to be done them_. So that the sense is, 'They will be welltreated and will be helped by my benefactions, so that they will makemention of my beneficence towards them'. But why do I pick out a fewtrifling examples from so many important ones, when I have on my sidethe venerable authority of the papal Curia? There is a Curial Decree[33]still extant in the Decretals, ordaining that persons should beappointed in the chief academies (as they were then) capable of givingaccurate instruction in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin literature, since, asthey believed, the Scriptures could not be understood, far lessdiscussed, without this knowledge. This most sound and most holy decreewe so far neglect that we are perfectly satisfied with the mostelementary knowledge of the Latin language, being apparently convincedthat everything can be extracted from Duns Scotus, as it were from acornucopia. For myself I do not fight with men of this sort; each man to his taste, as far as I am concerned; let the old man marry the old woman. It is mydelight to set foot on the path into which Jerome and the splendid hostof so many ancients summon me; so help me God, I would sooner be madwith them than as sane as you like with the mob of modern theologians. Besides I am attempting an arduous and, so to say, Phaethontean task--todo my best to restore the works of Jerome, which have been partlycorrupted by those half-learned persons, and are partly--owing to thelack of knowledge of antiquities and of Greek literature--forgotten ormangled or mutilated or at least full of mistakes and monstrosities; notmerely to restore them but to elucidate them with commentaries, so thateach reader will acknowledge to himself that the great Jerome, considered by the ecclesiastical world as the most perfect in bothbranches of learning, the sacred and the profane, can indeed be read byall, but can only be understood by the most learned. As I am workinghard on this design and see that I must in the first place acquireGreek, I have decided to study for some months under a Greekteacher, [34] a real Greek, no, twice a Greek, always hungry, [35] whocharges an immoderate fee for his lessons. Farewell. VI. TO WILLIAM WARHAM[36] London, 24 January [1506] To the Reverend Father in Christ, William, Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of England, many greetings from Erasmus of Rotterdam, Canon ofthe Order of St. Augustine: ... Having made up my mind, most illustrious prelate, to translate theGreek authors and by so doing to revive or, if you will, promote as faras I could theological studies--and God immortal, how miserably theyhave been corrupted by sophistical nonsensicalities!--I did not wish togive the impression that I was attempting forthwith to learn thepotter's art on a winejar[37] (as the Greek adage goes) and rushing inwith unwashen feet, as they say, on so vast an undertaking; so I decidedto begin by testing how far I had profited by my studies in bothlanguages, and that in a material difficult indeed, but not sacred; sothat the difficulty of the undertaking might be useful for practice andat the same time if I made any mistakes these mistakes should involveonly the risk of my talent and leave the Holy Scriptures undamaged. Andso I endeavoured to render in Latin two tragedies of Euripides, the_Hecuba_ and the _Iphigeneia in Aulis_, in the hope that perchance somegod might favour so bold a venture with fair breezes. Then, seeing thata specimen of the work begun found favour with persons excellently wellversed in both tongues (assuredly England by now possesses several ofthese, if I may acknowledge the truth without envy, men deserving of theadmiration even of all Italy in any branch of learning), I brought thework to a finish, with the good help of the Muses, within a few shortmonths. At what a cost in exertion, those will best feel who enter thesame lists. Why so? Because the mere task of putting real Greek into real Latin issuch that it requires an extraordinary artist, and not only a man with arich store of scholarship in both languages at his fingertips, but oneexceedingly alert and observant; so that for several centuries now nonehas appeared whose efforts in this field were unanimously approved byscholars. It is surely easy then to conjecture what a heavy task it hasproved to render verse in verse, particularly verse so varied andunfamiliar, and to do this from a writer not merely so remote in time, and withal a tragedian, but also marvellously concise, taut andunadorned, in whom there is nothing otiose, nothing which it would notbe a crime to alter or remove; and besides, one who treats rhetoricaltopics so frequently and so acutely that he appears to be everywheredeclaiming. Add to all this the choruses, which through I know not whatstriving after effect are so obscure that they need not so much atranslator as an Oedipus or priest of Apollo to interpret them. Inaddition there is the corrupt state of the manuscripts, the dearth ofcopies, the absence of any translators to whom one can have recourse. SoI am not so much surprised that even in this most prolific age none ofthe Italians has ventured to attempt the task of translating any tragedyor comedy, whereas many have set their hand to Homer (among these evenPolitian[38] failed to satisfy himself); one man[39] has essayed Hesiod, and that without much success; another[40] has attempted Theocritus, butwith even far more unfortunate results: and finally Francesco Filelfohas translated the first scene of the Hecuba in one of his funeralorations. [41] (I first learned this after I had begun my version), butin such a way that, great as he is, his work gave me courage enough toproceed, overprecise as I am in other respects. Then for me the lure of this poet's more than honeyed eloquence, whicheven his enemies allow him, proved stronger than the deterrent of thesegreat examples and the many difficulties of the work, so that I havebeen bold to attack a task never before attempted, in the hope that, even if I failed, my honest readers would consider even this poor effortof mine not altogether unpraiseworthy, and the more grudging would atleast be lenient to an inexperienced translator of a work so difficult:in particular because I have deliberately added no light burden to myother difficulties through my conscientiousness as a translator, inattempting so far as possible to reproduce the shape and as it werecontours of the Greek verse, by striving to render line for line andalmost word for word, and everywhere seeking with the utmost fidelity toconvey to Latin ears the force and value of the sentence: whether it bethat I do not altogether approve of the freedom in translation whichCicero allows others and practised himself (I would almost say to animmoderate degree), or that as an inexperienced translator I preferredto err on the side of seeming over-scrupulous rather thanover-free--hesitating on the sandy shore instead of wrecking my ship andswimming in the midst of the billows; and I preferred to run the risk ofletting scholars complain of lack of brilliance and poetic beauty in mywork rather than of lack of fidelity to the original. Finally I did notwant to set myself up as a paraphraser, thus securing myself thatretreat which many use to cloak their ignorance, wrapping themselveslike the cuttle-fish in darkness of their own making to avoid detection. Now, if readers do not find here the grandiloquence of Latin tragedy, 'the bombast and the words half a yard long, ' as Horace calls it, theymust not blame me if in performing my function of translator I havepreferred to reproduce the concise simplicity and elegance of myoriginal, and not the bombast to which he is a stranger, and which I donot greatly admire at any time. Furthermore, I am encouraged to hope with all certainty that theselabours of mine will be most excellently protected against the calumniesof the unjust, as their publication will be most welcome to the honestand just, if you, most excellent Father, have voted them your approval. For me it was not difficult to select you from the great host ofillustrious and distinguished men to be the recipient of this product ofmy vigils, as the one man I have observed to be--aside from thebrilliance of your fortune--so endowed, adorned and showered withlearning, eloquence, good sense, piety, modesty, integrity, and lastlywith an extraordinary liberality towards those who cultivate goodletters, that the word Primate suits none better than yourself, who holdthe first place not solely by reason of your official dignity, but farmore because of all your virtues, while at the same time you are theprincipal ornament of the Court and the sole head of the ecclesiasticalhierarchy. If I have the fortune to win for this my work thecommendation of a man so highly commended I shall assuredly not repentof the exertions I have so far expended, and will be forward to promotetheological studies with even more zeal for the future. Farewell, and enrol Erasmus in the number of those who arewholeheartedly devoted to Your Fathership. [Illustration: XXVII. PORTRAIT MEDAL OF ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 53 On the reverse his device and motto] [Illustration: XXVIII. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF ABOUT 57] VII. TO ALDUS MANUTIUS[42] Bologna, 28 October [1507] To Aldus Manutius of Rome, many greetings: ... I have often wished, most learned Manutius, that the light you havecast on Greek and Latin literature, not by your printing alone and yoursplendid types, but by your brilliance and your uncommon learning, couldhave been matched by the profit you in your turn drew from them. So faras _fame_ is concerned, the name of Aldus Manutius will without doubt beon the lips of all devotees of sacred literature unto all posterity; andyour memory will be--as your fame now is--not merely illustrious butloved and cherished as well, because you are engaged, as I hear, inreviving and disseminating the good authors--with extreme diligence butnot at a commensurate profit--undergoing truly Herculean labours, labours splendid indeed and destined to bring you immortal glory, butmeanwhile more profitable to others than to yourself. I hear that youare printing Plato[43] in Greek types; very many scholars eagerly awaitthe book. I should like to know what medical authors you have printed; Iwish you would give us Paul of Aegina. [44] I wonder what has preventedyou from publishing the New Testament[45] long since--a work which woulddelight even the common people (if I conjecture aright) but particularlymy own class, the theologians. I send you two tragedies[46] which I have been bold enough to translate, whether with success you yourself shall judge. Thomas Linacre, WilliamGrocyn, William Latimer, Cuthbert Tunstall, friends of yours as well asof mine, thought highly of them; you know yourself that they are toolearned to be deceived in their judgement, and too sincere to want toflatter a friend--unless their affection for me has somewhat blindedthem; the Italians to whom I have so far shown my attempt do not condemnit. It has been printed by Badius, successfully as far as he isconcerned, so he writes, for he has now sold all the copies to hissatisfaction. But my reputation has not been enhanced thereby, so fullis it all of mistakes, and in fact he offers his services to repair thefirst edition by printing a second. But I am afraid of his mending illwith ill, as the Sophoclean saying goes. I should consider my labours tohave been immortalized if they could come out printed in your types, particularly the smaller types, the most beautiful of all. This willresult in the volume being very small and the business being concludedat little expense. If you think it convenient to undertake the affair, Iwill supply you with a corrected copy, which I send by the bearer, _gratis_, except that you may wish to send me a few volumes as gifts formy friends. I should not have hesitated to attempt the publication at my own riskand expense, were it not that I have to leave Italy within a few months:so I should much like to have the business concluded as soon aspossible; in fact it is hardly ten days' work. If you insist on mytaking a hundred or two hundred volumes, though the god of gain does notusually favour me and it will be most inconvenient to transport thepackage, I shall not refuse, if only you fix a horse as the price. Farewell, most learned Aldus, and reckon Erasmus as one of yourwell-wishers. If you have any rare authors in your press, I shall be obliged if youwill indicate this--my learned British friends have asked me to searchfor them. If you decide not to print the _Tragedies_, will you returnthe copy to the bearer to bring back to me? VIII. TO THOMAS MORE[47] [Paris?] 9 June [1511] To his friend Thomas More, greetings: ... In days gone by, on my journey back from Italy into England, inorder not to waste all the time that must needs be spent on horseback indull and unlettered gossiping, I preferred at times either to turn overin my mind some topic of our common studies or to give myself over tothe pleasing recollection of the friends, as learned as they arebeloved, whom I had left behind me in England. You were among the veryfirst of these to spring to mind, my dear More; indeed I used to enjoythe memory of you in absence even as I was wont to delight in yourpresent company, than which I swear I never in my life met anythingsweeter. Therefore, since I thought that I must at all hazards do_something_, and that time seemed ill suited to serious meditation, Idetermined to amuse myself with the _Praise of Folly_. You will ask whatgoddess put this into my mind. In the first place it was your familyname of More, which comes as near to the word _moria_ [folly] as youyourself are far from the reality--everyone agrees that you are farremoved from it. Next I suspected that you above all would approve this_jeu d'esprit_ of mine, in that you yourself do greatly delight in jestsof this kind, that is, jests learned (if I mistake not) and at no timeinsipid, and altogether like to play in some sort the Democritus[48] inthe life of society. Although you indeed, owing to your incredibly sweetand easy-going character, are both able and glad to be all things to allmen, even as your singularly penetrating intellect causes you to dissentwidely from the opinions of the herd. So you will not only gladly acceptthis little declamation as a memento of your comrade, but will also takeit under your protection, inasmuch as it is dedicated to you and is nowno longer mine but yours. And indeed there will perhaps be no lack of brawlers to represent thattrifles are more frivolous than becomes a theologian, or more mordantthan suits with Christian modesty, and they will be crying out that I amreviving the Old Comedy or Lucian and assailing everything with bitingsatire. But I would have those who are offended by the levity andsportiveness of my theme reflect that it was not I that began this, butthat the same was practised by great writers in former times; seeingthat so many centuries ago Homer made his trifle _The Battle of Frogsand Mice_, Virgil his _Gnat_ and _Dish of Herbs_ and Ovid his _Nut_;seeing that Busiris was praised by Polycrates and his critic Isocrates, Injustice by Glaucon, Thersites and the Quartan Fever by Favorinus, Baldness by Synesius, the Fly and the Art of Being a Parasite by Lucian;and that Seneca devised the Apotheosis of the Emperor Claudius, Plutarchthe Dialogue of Gryllus and Ulysses, Lucian and Apuleius the Ass, andsomeone unknown the Testament of Grunnius Corocotta the Piglet, mentioned even by St. Jerome. So, if they will, let my detractors imagine that I have played anoccasional game of draughts for a pastime or, if they prefer, taken aride on a hobby-horse. How unfair it is truly, when we grant everycalling in life its amusements, not to allow the profession of learningany amusement at all, particularly if triflings bring serious thoughtsin their train and frivolous matters are so treated that a reader notaltogether devoid of perception wins more profit from these than fromthe glittering and portentous arguments of certain persons--as when forinstance one man eulogizes rhetoric or philosophy in a painfullystitched-together oration, another rehearses the praises of some prince, another urges us to begin a war with the Turks, another foretells thefuture, and another proposes a new method of splitting hairs. Just asthere is nothing so trifling as to treat serious matters triflingly, sothere is nothing so delightful as to treat trifling matters in suchfashion that it appears that you have been doing anything but trifle. Asto me, the judgement is in other hands--and yet, unless I am altogethermisled by self-love, I have sung the praise of Folly and that notaltogether foolishly. And now to reply to the charge of mordacity. It has ever been theprivilege of wits to satirize the life of society with impunity, provided that licence does not degenerate into frenzy. Wherefore themore do I marvel at the fastidiousness of men's ears in these times, whoby now can scarce endure anything but solemn appellations. Further, wesee some men so perversely religious that they will suffer the mosthideous revilings against Christ sooner than let prince or pope besullied by the lightest jest, particularly if this concerns monetarygain. But if a man censures men's lives without reproving anyone at allby name, pray do you think this man a satirist, and not rather a teacherand admonisher? Else on how many counts do I censure myself? Moreover hewho leaves no class of men unmentioned is clearly foe to no man but toall vices. Therefore anyone who rises up and cries out that he isinsulted will be revealing a bad conscience, or at all events fear. St. Jerome wrote satire in this kind far more free and biting, not alwaysabstaining from the mention of names, whereas I myself, apart from notmentioning anyone by name, have moreover so tempered my pen that thesagacious reader will easily understand that my aim has been to givepleasure, not pain; for I have at no point followed Juvenal's example in'stirring up the murky bilge of crime', and I have sought to survey thelaughable, not the disgusting. If there is anyone whom even this cannotappease, at least let him remember that it is a fine thing to be reviledby Folly; in bringing her upon the stage I had to suit the words to thecharacter. But why need I say all this to you, an advocate so remarkablethat you can defend excellently even causes far from excellent?Farewell, most eloquent More, and be diligent in defending your _moria_. IX. TO JOHN COLET[49] Cambridge, 29 October [1511] To his friend Colet, greetings: ... Something came into my mind which I know will make you laugh. In thepresence of several Masters [of Arts] I was putting forward a view onthe Assistant Teacher, when one of them, a man of some repute, smiledand said: 'Who could bear to spend his life in that school among boys, when he could live anywhere in any way he liked?' I answered mildly thatit seemed to me a very honourable task to train young people in mannersand literature, that Christ himself did not despise the young, that noage had a better right to help, and that from no quarter was a richerreturn to be expected, seeing that young people were the harvest-fieldand raw material of the nation. I added that all truly religious peoplefelt that they could not better serve God in any other duty than thebringing of children to Christ. He wrinkled his nose and said with ascornful gesture: 'If any man wishes to serve Christ altogether, let himgo into a monastery and enter a religious order. ' I answered that St. Paul said that true religion consisted in the offices ofcharity--charity consisting in doing our best to help our neighbours. This he rejected as an ignorant remark. 'Look, ' said he, 'we haveforsaken everything: in this is perfection. ' 'That man has not forsakeneverything, ' said I, 'who, when he could help very many by his labours, refuses to undertake a duty because it is regarded as humble. ' And withthat, to prevent a quarrel arising, I let the man go. There you have thedialogue. You see the Scotist philosophy! Once again, farewell. X. TO SERVATIUS ROGER Hammes Castle [near Calais], 8 July 1514 To the Reverend Father Servatius, many greetings: ... Most humane father, your letter has at last reached me, afterpassing through many hands, when I had already left England, and it hasafforded me unbelievable delight, as it still breathes your oldaffection for me. However, I shall answer briefly, as I am writing justafter the journey, and shall reply in particular on those matters whichare, as you write, strictly to the point. Men's thoughts are so varied, 'to each his own bird-song', that it is impossible to satisfy everyone. My own feelings are that I want to follow what is best to do, God is mywitness. Those feelings which I had in my youth have been correctedpartly by age, partly by experience of the world. I have never intendedto change my mode of life or my habit--not that I liked them, but toavoid scandal. You are aware that I was not so much led as driven tothis mode of life by the obstinate determination of my guardians and thewrongful urgings of others, and that afterwards, when I realized thatthis kind of life was quite unsuited to me (for not all things suit allmen), I was held back by Cornelius of Woerden's reproaches and by acertain boyish sense of shame. I was never able to endure fasting, through some peculiarity of my constitution. Once roused from sleep Icould never fall asleep again for several hours. I was so drawn towardsliterature, which is not practised in the monastery, that I do not doubtthat if I had chanced on some free mode of life I could have beennumbered not merely among the happy but even among the good. So, when I realized that I was by no means fit for this mode of life, that I had taken it up under compulsion and not of my own free will, nevertheless, as public opinion in these days regards it as a crime tobreak away from a mode of life once taken up, I had resolved to endurewith fortitude this part of my unhappiness also--you know that I am inmany things unfortunate. But I have always regarded this one thing asharder than all the rest, that I had been forced into a mode of life forwhich I was totally unfit both in body and in mind: in mind, because Iabhorred ritual and loved liberty; in body, because even had I beenperfectly satisfied with the life, my constitution could not endure suchlabours. One may object that I had a year of probation, as it is called, and that I was of ripe age. Ridiculous! As if anyone could expect a boyof sixteen, particularly one with a literary training, to know himself(an achievement even for an old man), or to have succeeded in learningin a single year what many do not yet understand in their grey hairs. Though I myself never liked the life, still less after I had tried it, but was trapped in the way I have mentioned; although I confess that thetruly good man will live a good life in any calling. And I do not denythat I was prone to grievous vices, but not of so utterly corrupt anature that I could not have come to some good, had I found a kindlyguide, a true Christian, not one given to Jewish scruples. Meanwhile I looked about to find in what kind of life I could be leastbad, and I believe indeed that I have attained this. I have spent mylife meantime among sober men, in literary studies, which have kept meoff many vices. I have been able to associate with true followers ofChrist, whose conversation has made me a better man. I do not now boastof my books, which you at Steyn perhaps despise. But many confess that they have become not merely more knowledgeable, but even better men through reading them. Passion for money has neveraffected me. I am quite untouched by the thirst for fame. I have neverbeen a slave to pleasures, although I was formerly inclined to them. Over-indulgence and drunkenness I have ever loathed and avoided. Butwhenever I thought of returning to your society, I remembered thejealousy of many, the contempt of all, the conversations how dull, howfoolish, how un-Christlike, the feasts how unclerical! In short thewhole way of life, from which if you remove the ritual, I do not seewhat remains that one could desire. Lastly I remembered my frailconstitution, now weakened by age, disease and hard work, as a result ofwhich I should fail to satisfy you and kill myself. For several yearsnow I have been subject to the stone, a severe and deadly illness, andfor several years I have drunk nothing but wine, and not all kinds ofwine at that, owing to my disease; I cannot endure all kinds of food norindeed all climates. The illness is very liable to recur and demands avery careful regimen; and I know the climate in Holland and your styleof living, not to mention your ways. So, had I come back to you, all Iwould have achieved would have been to bring trouble on you and death onmyself. But perhaps you think it a great part of happiness to die amid one'sfellow-brethren? This belief deceives and imposes not on you alone buton nearly everyone. We make Christian piety depend on place, dress, style of living and on certain little rituals. We think a man lost whochanges his white dress for black, or his cowl for a cap, oroccasionally moves from place to place. I should dare to say thatChristian piety has suffered great damage from these so-called religiouspractices, although it may be that their first introduction was due topious zeal. They then gradually increased and divided into thousands ofdistinctions; this was helped by a papal authority which was too lax andeasy-going in many cases. What more defiled or more impious than theselax rituals? And if you turn to those that are commended, no, to themost highly commended, apart from some dreary Jewish rituals, I know notwhat image of Christ one finds in them. It is these on which they preenthemselves, these by which they judge and condemn others. How much morein conformity with the spirit of Christ to consider the whole Christianworld one home and as it were one monastery, to regard all men as one'sfellow-monks and fellow-brethren, to hold the sacrament of Baptism asthe supreme rite, and not to consider where one lives but how well onelives! You want me to settle on a permanent abode, a course which myvery age also suggests. But the travellings of Solon, Pythagoras andPlato are praised; and the Apostles, too, were wanderers, in particularPaul. St. Jerome also was a monk now in Rome, now in Syria, now inAntioch, now here, now there, and even in his old age pursued literarystudies. But I am not to be compared with St. Jerome--I agree; yet I have nevermoved unless forced by the plague or for reasons of study or health, andwherever I have lived (I shall say this of myself, arrogantly perhaps, but truthfully) I have been commended by the most highly commended andpraised by the most praised. There is no land, neither Spain nor Italynor Germany nor France nor England nor Scotland, which does not summonme to partake of its hospitality. And if I am not liked by all (which isnot my aim), at all events I am liked in the highest places of all. AtRome there was no cardinal who did not welcome me like a brother; inparticular the Cardinal of St. George, [50] the Cardinal of Bologna, [51]Cardinal Grimani, the Cardinal of Nantes, [52] and the present Pope, [53]not to mention bishops, archdeacons and men of learning. And this honourwas not a tribute to wealth, which even now I neither possess nordesire; nor to ambition, a failing to which I have ever been a stranger;but solely to learning, which our countrymen ridicule, while theItalians worship it. In England there is no bishop who is not glad to begreeted by me, who does not desire my company, who does not want me inhis home. The King himself, a little before his father's death, when Iwas in Italy, wrote a most affectionate letter to me with his own hand, and now too speaks often of me in the most honourable and affectionateterms; and whenever I greet him he welcomes me most courteously andlooks at me in a most friendly fashion, making it plain that hisfeelings for me are as friendly as his speeches. And he has oftencommissioned his Almoner[54] to find a benefice for me. The Queen soughtto take me as her tutor. Everyone knows that, if I were prepared to liveeven a few months at Court, he would heap on me as many benefices as Icared for; but I put my leisure and my learned labours beforeeverything. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Primate of all England andChancellor of the Realm, a good and learned man, could not treat me withmore affection were I his father or brother. And that you may understandthat he is sincere in this, he gave me a living of nearly 100 nobles, which afterwards at my wish he changed into a pension of 100 crowns onmy resignation; in addition he has given me more than 400 nobles duringthe last few years, although I never asked for anything. He gave me 150nobles in one day. I received more than 100 nobles from other bishops infreely offered gifts. Mountjoy, a baron of the realm, formerly my pupil, gives me annually a pension of 100 crowns. The King and the Bishop ofLincoln, who has great influence through the King, make many splendidpromises. There are two universities in England, Oxford and Cambridge, and both of them want me; at Cambridge I taught Greek and sacredliterature for several months, for nothing, and have resolved always todo this. There are colleges here so religious, and of such modesty inliving, that you would spurn any other religious life, could you seethem. In London there is John Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, who hascombined great learning with a marvellous piety, a man greatly respectedby all. He is so fond of me, as all know, that he prefers my companyabove all others'; I do not mention many others, lest I doubly vex youwith my loquacity as well as my boasting. Now to say something of my works--I think you have read the_Enchiridion_, [55] through which not a few confess themselves inspiredto the study of piety; I make no claim for myself, but give thanks toChrist for any good which has come to pass through me by His giving. Ido not know whether you have seen the _Adagia_, [56] printed by Aldus. Itis not a theological work, but most useful for every branch of learning;at least it cost me countless labours and sleepless nights. I havepublished a work _De rerum verborumque copia_, [57] dedicated to myfriend Colet, very useful for those who desire to speak in public; butall these are despised by those who despise all good learning. Duringthe last two years, apart from much else, I have emended the _Letters_of St. Jerome, obelizing what was false and spurious and explaining theobscure passages with notes. I have corrected the whole of the NewTestament from collations of the Greek and ancient manuscripts, and haveannotated more than a thousand passages, not without some benefit totheologians. I have begun commentaries on the _Epistles_ of St. Paul, which I shall complete when I have published these. For I have resolvedto live and die in the study of the Scriptures. I make these my work andmy leisure. Men of consequence say that I can do what others cannot inthis field; in your mode of life I shall be able to do nothing. AlthoughI have been intimate with so many grave and learned men, here and inItaly and France, I have not yet found anyone who advised me to returnto you or thought this the better course. Nay, even Nicholas Werner ofblessed memory, your predecessor, would always dissuade me from this, advising me to attach myself rather to some bishop; he would add that heknew my mind and his little brothers' ways: those were the words heused, in the vernacular. In the life I live now I see what I shouldavoid, but do not see what would be a better course. It now remains to satisfy you on the question of my dress. I have alwaysup to now worn the canon's dress, and when I was at Louvain I obtainedpermission from the Bishop of Utrecht to wear a linen scapular insteadof a complete linen garment, and a black capuce instead of a blackcloak, after the Parisian custom. But on my journey to Italy, seeing themonks all along the way wearing a black garment with a scapular, I theretook to wearing black, with a scapular, to avoid giving offence by anyunusual dress. Afterwards the plague broke out at Bologna, and therethose who nurse the sick of the plague customarily wear a white linencloth depending from the shoulder--these avoid contact with people. Consequently when one day I went to call on a learned friend somerascals drew their swords and were preparing to set about me, and wouldhave done so, had not a certain matron warned them that I was anecclesiastic. Again the next day, when I was on my way to visit theTreasurer's sons, they rushed at me with bludgeons from all directionsand attacked me with horrible cries. So on the advice of good men Iconcealed my scapular, and obtained a dispensation from Pope Julius IIallowing me to wear the religious dress or not, as seemed good, providedthat I wore clerical garb; and in this document he condoned any previousoffences in the matter. In Italy I continued to wear clerical garb, lestthe change cause offence to anyone. On my return to England I decided towear my usual dress, and I invited to my lodging a friend of excellentrepute for his learning and mode of life and showed him the dress I haddecided to wear; I asked him whether this was suitable in England. Heapproved, so I appeared in public in this dress. I was at once warned byother friends that this dress could not be tolerated in England, that Ihad better conceal it. I did so; and as it cannot be concealed withoutcausing scandal if it is eventually discovered, I stored it away in abox, and up to now have taken advantage of the Papal dispensationreceived formerly. Ecclesiastical law excommunicates anyone who castsoff the religious habit so as to move more freely in secular society. Iput it off under compulsion in Italy, to escape being killed; andlikewise under compulsion in England, because it was not toleratedthere, although myself I should much prefer to have worn it. To adopt itagain now would cause more scandal than did the change itself. There you have an account of my whole life, there you have my plans. Ishould like to change even this present mode of life, if I see a better. But I do not see what I am to do in Holland. I know that the climate andway of living will not agree with me; I shall have everyone looking atme. I shall return a white-haired old man, having gone away as ayouth--I shall return a valetudinarian; I shall be exposed to thecontempt of the lowest, used as I am to the respect of the highest. Ishall exchange my studies for drinking-parties. As to your promising meyour help in finding me a place where I can live with an excellentincome, as you write, I cannot conjecture what this can be, unlessperhaps you intend to place me among some community of nuns, to servewomen--I who have never been willing to serve kings nor archbishops. Iwant no pay; I have no desire for riches, if only I have money enough toprovide for my health and my literary leisure, to enable me to livewithout burdening anyone. I wish we could discuss these things togetherface to face; it cannot be done in a letter conveniently or safely. Yourletter, although it was sent by most reliable persons, went so farastray that if I had not accidentally come to this castle I should neverhave seen it; and many people had looked at it before I received it. Sodo not mention anything secret unless you know for certain where I amand have a very trustworthy messenger. I am now on my way to Germany, that is, Basle, to have my works published, and this winter I shallperhaps be in Rome. On my return journey I shall see to it that we meetand talk somewhere. But now the summer is nearly over and it is a longjourney. Farewell, once my sweetest comrade, now my esteemed father. XI. TO WOLFGANG FABRICIUS CAPITO[58] Antwerp, 26 February 1516/17 To the distinguished theologian Wolfgang Fabricius Capito of Hagenau, skilled in the three languages, greetings: ... Now that I see that the mightiest princes of the earth, King Francisof France, Charles the Catholic King, King Henry of England and theEmperor Maximilian have drastically cut down all warlike preparationsand concluded a firm and, I hope, unbreakable treaty of peace, I feelentitled to hope with confidence that not only the moral virtues andChristian piety but also the true learning, purified of corruption, andthe fine disciplines will revive and blossom forth; particularly as thisaim is being prosecuted with equal zeal in different parts of the world, in Rome by Pope Leo, in Spain by the Cardinal of Toledo, [59] in Englandby King Henry VIII, himself no mean scholar, here by King Charles, ayoung man admirably gifted, in France by King Francis, a man as it wereborn for this task, who besides offers splendid rewards to attract andentice men distinguished for virtue and learning from all parts, inGermany by many excellent princes and bishops and above all by theEmperor Maximilian, who, wearied in his old age of all these wars, hasresolved to find rest in the arts of peace: a resolve at once morebecoming to himself at his age and more fortunate for Christendom. It isto these men's piety then that we owe it that all over the world, as ifon a given signal, splendid talents are stirring and awakening andconspiring together to revive the best learning. For what else is thisbut a conspiracy, when all these great scholars from different landsshare out the work among themselves and set about this noble task, notmerely with enthusiasm but with a fair measure of success, so that wehave an almost certain prospect of seeing all disciplines emerge oncemore into the light of day in a far purer and more genuine form? In thefirst place polite letters, for long reduced almost to extinction, arebeing taken up and cultivated by the Scots, the Danes and the Irish. Asfor medicine, how many champions has she found! Nicholas Leonicenus[60]in Rome, Ambrose Leo of Nola[61] at Venice, William Cop[62] and JohnRuell[63] in France, and Thomas Linacre in England. Roman law is beingrevived in Paris by William Budaeus[64] and in Germany by UlrichZasius, [65] mathematics at Basle by Henry Glareanus. [66] In theology there was more to do, for up till now its professors havealmost always been men with an ingrained loathing for good learning, menwho conceal their ignorance the more successfully as they do this onwhat they call a religious pretext, so that the ignorant herd ispersuaded by them to believe it a violation of religion if anyoneproceeds to attack their barbarism; for they prefer to wail for help tothe uneducated mob and incite it to stone-throwing if they see anydanger of their ignorance on any point coming to light. But I amconfident that here, too, all will go well as soon as the knowledge ofthe three languages [Greek, Latin and Hebrew] becomes accepted publiclyin the schools, as it has begun to be.... The humblest share in thiswork has fallen on me, as is fitting; I know not whether I havecontributed anything of value; at all events I have infuriated those whodo not want the world to come to its senses, so that it seems as if mypoor efforts also have not been ineffective: although I have notundertaken the work in the belief that, I could teach anythingmagnificent, but I wanted to open a road for others, destined to attemptgreater things, that they might with greater ease ascend the shiningheights without running into so many rough and quaggy places. Yet thishumble diligence of mine is not disdained by the honest and learned, andnone complain of it but a few so stupid that they are hissed off thestage by even ordinary persons of any intelligence. Here not long agosomeone complained tearfully before the people, in a sermon of course, that it was all over with the Scriptures and the theologians who hadhitherto upheld the Christian faith on their shoulders, now that men hadarisen to emend the Holy Gospel and the very words of Our Lord: just asif I was rebuking Matthew or Luke instead of those whose ignorance ornegligence had corrupted what they wrote correctly. In England one ortwo persons complain loudly that it is a shameful thing that _I_ shoulddare to teach a great man like St. Jerome: as if I had changed what St. Jerome wrote, instead of restoring it! Yet those who snarl out suchlike dirges, which any laundryman with alittle sense would scoff at, think themselves great theologians ... Notthat I want the kind of theology which is customary in the schoolsnowadays consigned to oblivion; I wish it to be rendered moretrustworthy and more correct by the accession of the old, true learning. It will not weaken the authority of the Scriptures or theologians ifcertain passages hitherto considered corrupt are henceforth read in anemended form, or if passages are more correctly understood on which uptill now the mass of theologians have entertained delusions: no, it willgive greater weight to their authority, the more genuine theirunderstanding of the Scriptures. I have sustained the shock of the firstmeeting, which Terence calls the sharpest.... One doubt still troublesme; I fear that under cover of the rebirth of ancient learning paganismmay seek to rear its head, as even among Christians there are those whoacknowledge Christ in name only, but in their hearts are Gentiles; orthat with the renascence of Hebrew studies Judaism may seek to use thisopportunity of revival; and there can be nothing more contrary or morehostile to the teaching of Christ than this plague. This is the natureof human affairs--nothing good has ever so flourished but some evil hasattempted to use it as a pretext for insinuating itself. I could wishthat those dreary quibblings could be either done away with or at leastcease to be the sole activity of theologians, and that the simplicityand purity of Christ could penetrate deeply into the minds of men; andthis I think can best be brought to pass if with the help provided bythe three languages we exercise our minds in the actual sources. But Ipray that we may avoid this evil without falling into another perhapsgraver error. Recently several pamphlets have been published reeking ofunadulterated Judaism. XII. TO THOMAS MORE Louvain, 5 March 1518 To his friend More, greeting: ... First of all I ask you to entrust to the bearer, my servant John, any letters of mine or yours which you consider fit for publication withthe alteration of some passages; I am simply compelled to publish myletters whether I like it or not. Send off the lad so that he returnshere as quickly as possible. If you discover that Urswick isill-disposed towards me perhaps he should not be troubled; otherwise, help me in the matter of a horse--I shall need one just now when I amabout to go to Basle or Venice, chiefly for the purpose of bringing outthe New Testament. [67] Such is my fate, dear More. I shall enact thispart of my play also. Afterwards, I almost feel inclined to sing 'formyself and the Muses'; my age and my health, which grows daily worse, almost require this. Over here scoundrels in disguise are soall-powerful, and no one here makes money but innkeepers, advocates, andbegging friars. It is unendurable when many speak ill and none do good. At Basle they make the elegant preface added by Budaeus the excuse forthe delay over your Utopia. They have now received it and have startedon the work. Then Froben's father-in-law Lachner died. But Froben'spress will be sweating over our studies none the less. I have not yethad a chance of seeing Linacre's _Therapeutice_, [68] through someconspiracy of the Parisians against me. Inquire courteously of Lupset onthe Appendix[69] to my _Copia_ and send it. The Pope and the princes are up to some new tricks on the pretext of thesavagery of the war against the Turks. Wretched Turks! May we Christiansnot be too cruel! Even wives are affected. All married men between theages of twenty-six and fifty will be compelled to take up arms. Meanwhile the Pope forbids the wives of men absent at the war to indulgein pleasure at home; they are to eschew elegant apparel, must not wearsilk, gold or any jewellery, must not touch rouge or drink wine, andmust fast every other day, that God may favour their husbands engaged inthis cruel war. If there are men tied at home by necessary business, their wives must none the less observe the same rules as they would havehad to observe if their husbands had gone to the war. They are to sleepin the same room but in different beds; and not a kiss is to be givenmeanwhile until this terrible war reaches a successful conclusion underChrist's favour. I know that these enactments will irritate wives who donot sufficiently ponder the importance of the business; though I knowthat your wife, sensible as she is, and obedient in regard to a matterof Christian observance, will even be glad to obey. I send Pace's pamphlet, the _Conclusions on Papal Indulgences_, [70] andthe _Proposal for Undertaking a War against the Turks_, [71] as I suspectthat they have not yet reached England. They write from Cologne thatsome pamphlet about an argument between Julius and Peter at the gates ofParadise[72] has now been printed; they do not add the author's name. The German presses will not cease from their mad pranks until theirrashness is restrained by some law; this does me much harm, who amendeavouring to help the world.... I beg you to let my servant sleep one or two nights with yours, toprevent his chancing on an infected house, and to afford him anything hemay need, although I have supplied him with travelling money myself. Ihave at last seen the _Utopia_ at Paris printed, but with manymisprints. It is now in the press at Basle; I had threatened to breakwith them unless they took more trouble with that business than withmine. Farewell, most sincere of friends. XIII. TO BEATUS RHENANUS[73] Louvain [_c. _ 15 October] 1518 To his friend Rhenanus, greetings: ... Let me describe to you, my dear Beatus, the whole tragi-comedy of myjourney. I was still weak and listless, as you know, when I left Basle, not having come to terms with the climate, after skulking at home solong, and occupied in uninterrupted labors at that. The river voyage wasnot unpleasant, but that around midday the heat of the sun was somewhattrying. We had a meal at Breisach, the most unpleasant meal I have everhad. The smell of food nearly finished me, and then the flies, worsethan the smell. We sat at table doing nothing for more than half anhour, waiting for them to produce their banquet, if you please. In theend nothing fit to eat was served; filthy porridge with lumps in it andsalt fish reheated not for the first time, enough to make one sick. Idid not call on Gallinarius. The man who brought word that he wassuffering from a slight fever also told me a pretty story; that Minoritetheologian with whom I had disputed about _heceitas_[74] had taken it onhimself to pawn the church chalices. Scotist ingenuity! Just beforenightfall we were put out at a dull village; I did not feel likediscovering its name, and if I knew I should not care to tell you it. Inearly perished there. We had supper in a small room like asweating-chamber, more than sixty of us, I should say, an indiscriminatecollection of rapscallions, and this went on till nearly ten o'clock;oh, the stench, and the noise, particularly after they had becomeintoxicated! Yet we had to remain sitting to suit their clocks. In the morning while it was still quite dark we were driven from bed bythe shouting of the sailors. I went on board without having eithersupped or slept. We reached Strasbourg before lunch, at about nineo'clock; there we had a more comfortable reception, particularly asSchürer produced some wine. Some of the Society[75] were there, andafterwards they all came to greet me, Gerbel outdoing all the rest inpoliteness. Gebwiler and Rudolfingen did not want me to pay, no newthing with them. Thence we proceeded on horseback as far as Speyer; wesaw no sign of soldiers anywhere, although there had been alarmingrumours. The English horse completely collapsed and hardly got toSpeyer; that criminal smith had handled him so badly that he ought tohave both his ears branded with red-hot iron. At Speyer I slipped awayfrom the inn and took myself to my neighbour Maternus. There Decanus, alearned and cultivated man, entertained me courteously and agreeably fortwo days. Here I accidentally found Hermann Busch. From Speyer I travelled by carriage to Worms, and from there again toMainz. There was an Imperial secretary, Ulrich Varnbüler, [76] travellingby chance in the same carriage. He devoted himself to me with incredibleassiduity over the whole journey, and at Mainz would not allow me to gointo the inn but took me to the house of a canon; on my departure heaccompanied me to the boat. The voyage was not unpleasant as the weatherwas fine, excepting that the crew took care to make it somewhat long; inaddition to this the stench of the horses incommoded me. For the firstday John Langenfeld, who formerly taught at Louvain, and a lawyer friendof his came with me as a mark of politeness. There was also aWestphalian, John, a canon at St. Victor's outside Mainz, a mostagreeable and entertaining man. After arriving at Boppard, as I was taking a walk along the bank while aboat was being procured, someone recognized me and betrayed me to thecustoms officer, 'That is the man. ' The customs officer's name is, if Imistake not, Christopher Cinicampius, in the common speech Eschenfelder. You would not believe how the man jumped for joy. He dragged me into hishouse. Books by Erasmus were lying on a small table amongst the customsagreements. He exclaimed at his good fortune and called in his wife andchildren and all his friends. Meanwhile he sent out to the sailors whowere calling for me two tankards of wine, and another two when theycalled out again, promising that when he came back he would remit thetoll to the man who had brought him a man like myself. From Boppard JohnFlaminius, chaplain to the nuns there, a man of angelic purity, of saneand sober judgement and no common learning, accompanied me as far asCoblenz. At Coblenz Matthias, Chancellor to the Bishop, swept us off tohis house--he is a young man but of staid manners, and has an accurateknowledge of Latin, besides being a skilled lawyer. There we suppedmerrily. At Bonn the canon left us, to avoid Cologne: I wanted to avoid Colognemyself, but the servant had preceded me thither with the horses, andthere was no reliable person in the boat whom I could have charged withthe business of calling back my servant; I did not trust the sailors. Sowe docked at Cologne before six o'clock in the morning on a Sunday, theweather being by now pestilential. I went into an inn and gave orders tothe ostlers to hire me a carriage and pair, ordering a meal to be madeready by ten o'clock. I attended Divine Service, the lunch was delayed. I had no luck with the carriage and pair. I tried to hire a horse; myown were useless. Everything failed. I realized what was up; they weretrying to make me stop there. I immediately ordered my horses to beharnessed, and one bag to be loaded; the other bag I entrusted to theinnkeeper, and on my lame horse rode quickly to the Count ofNeuenahr's[77]--a five-hour journey. He was staying at Bedburg. With the Count I stayed five days very pleasantly, in such peace andquiet that while staying with him I completed a good part of therevision--I had taken that part of the New Testament with me. Would thatyou knew him, my dear Beatus! He is a young man but of rare good sense, more than you would find in an old man; he speaks little, but as Homersays of Menelaus, he speaks 'in clear tones, ' and intelligently too; heis learned without pretentiousness in more than one branch of study, wholly sincere and a good friend. By now I was strong and lusty, andwell pleased with myself, and was hoping to be in a good state when Ivisited the Bishop of Liége and to return hale and hearty to my friendsin Brabant. What dinner-parties, what felicitations, what discussions Ipromised myself! But ah, deceptive human hopes! ah, the sudden andunexpected vicissitudes of human affairs! From these high dreams ofhappiness I was hurled to the depths of misfortune. I had hired a carriage and pair for the next day. My companion, notwanting to say goodbye before night, announced that he would see me inthe morning before my departure. That night a wild hurricane sprang up, which had passed before the next morning. Nevertheless I rose aftermidnight, to make some notes for the Count: when it was already seveno'clock and the Count did not emerge, I asked for him to be waked. Hecame, and in his customary shy and modest way asked me whether I meantto leave in such bad weather, saying he was afraid for me. At thatpoint, my dear Beatus, some god or bad angel deprived me, not of thehalf of my senses, as Hesiod says, but of the whole: for he had deprivedme of half my senses when I risked going to Cologne. I wish that eithermy friend had warned me more sharply or that I had paid more attentionto his most affectionate remonstrances! I was seized by the power offate: what else am I to say? I climbed into an uncovered carriage, thewind blowing 'strong as when in the high mountains it shivers thetrembling holm-oaks. ' It was a south wind and blowing like the verypest. I thought I was well protected by my wrappings, but it wentthrough everything with its violence. Towards nightfall a light raincame on, more noxious than the wind that preceded it: I arrived atAachen exhausted from the shaking of the carriage, which was so tryingto me on the stone-paved road that I should have preferred sitting on myhorse, lame as he was. Here I was carried off from the inn by a canon, to whom the Count had recommended me, to Suderman's house. There severalcanons were holding their usual drinking-party. My appetite had beensharpened by a very light lunch; but at the time they had nothing bythem but carp, and cold carp at that. I ate to repletion. The drinkingwent on well into the night. I excused myself and went to bed, as I hadhad very little sleep the night before. On the following day I was taken to the Vice-Provost's house; it was histurn to offer hospitality. As there was no fish there apart from eel(this was certainly the fault of the storm, as he is a magnificent hostotherwise) I lunched off a fish dried in the open air, which the Germanscall _Stockfisch_, from the rod used to beat it--it is a fish which Ienjoy at other times: but I discovered that part of this one had notbeen properly cured. After lunch, as the weather was appalling, I tookmyself off to the inn and ordered a fire to be lit. The canon whom Imentioned, a most cultured man, stayed talking with me for about an hourand a half. Meanwhile I began to feel very uncomfortable inside; as thiscontinued, I sent him away and went to the privy. As this gave mystomach no relief I inserted my finger into my mouth, and the uncuredfish came up, but that was all. I lay down afterwards, not so muchsleeping as resting, without any pain in my head or body; then, havingstruck a bargain with the coachman over the bags, I received aninvitation to the evening compotation. I excused myself, withoutsuccess. I knew that my stomach would not stand anything but a few supsof warmed liquor.... On this occasion there was a magnificent spread, but it was wasted on me. After comforting my stomach with a sup of wine, I went home; I was sleeping at Suderman's house. As soon as I went outof doors my empty body shivered fearfully in the night air. On the morning of the next day, after taking a little warmed ale and afew morsels of bread, I mounted my horse, who was lame and ailing, whichmade riding more uncomfortable. By now I was in such a state that Iwould have been better keeping warm in bed than mounted on horseback. But that district is the most countrified, roughest, barren andunattractive imaginable, the inhabitants are so idle; so that Ipreferred to run away. The danger of brigands--it was very great inthose parts--or at least my fear of them, was driven out of my mind bythe discomfort of my illness.... After covering four miles on this rideI reached Maastricht. There after a drink to soothe my stomach Iremounted and came to Tongres, about three miles away. This last ridewas by far the most painful to me. The awkward gait of the horse gave meexcruciating pains in the kidneys. It would have been easier to walk, but I was afraid of sweating, and there was a danger of the nightcatching us still out in the country. So I reached Tongres with my wholebody in a state of unbelievable agony. By now, owing to lack of food andthe exertion in addition, all my muscles had given way, so that I couldnot stand or walk steadily. I concealed the severity of my illness by mytongue--that was still working. Here I took a sup of ale to soothe mystomach and retired to bed. In the morning I ordered them to hire a carriage. I decided to go onhorseback, on account of the paving stones, until we reached an unpavedroad. I mounted the bigger horse, thinking that he would go better onthe paving and be more sure-footed. I had hardly mounted when I felt myeyes clouding over as I met the cold air, and asked for a cloak. Butsoon after this I fainted; I could be roused by a touch. Then my servantJohn and the others standing by let me come to myself naturally, stillsitting on the horse. After coming to myself I got into the carriage.... By now we were approaching the town of St. Trond. I mounted once more, not to appear an invalid, riding in a carriage. Once again the eveningair made me feel sick, but I did not faint. I offered the coachmandouble the fare if he would take me the next day as far as Tirlemont, atown six miles from Tongres. He accepted the terms. Here a guest whom Iknew told me how ill the Bishop of Liége had taken my leaving for Baslewithout calling on him. After soothing my stomach with a drink I went tobed, and had a very bad night.... Here by chance I found a coach goingto Louvain, six miles away, and threw myself into it. I made the journeyin incredible and almost unendurable discomfort; however we reachedLouvain by seven o'clock on that day. I had no intention of going to my own room, whether because I had asuspicion that all would be cold there, or that I did not want to runthe risk of interfering with the amenities of the College in any way, ifI started a rumour of the plague. I went to Theodoric the printer's.... During the night a large ulcer broke without my feeling it, and the painhad died down. The next day I called a surgeon. He applied poultices. Athird ulcer had appeared on my back, caused by a servant at Tongres whenhe was anointing me with oil of roses for the pain in the kidneys andrubbed one of my ribs too hard with a horny finger.... The surgeon onhis way out told Theodoric and his servant secretly that it was theplague; he would send poultices, but would not come to see mehimself.... When the surgeon failed to return after a day or two, Iasked Theodoric the reason. He made some excuse. But I, suspecting whatthe matter was, said 'What, does he think it is the plague?''Precisely, ' said he, 'he insists that you have three plague-sores. ' Ilaughed, and did not allow myself even to imagine that I had the plague. After some days the surgeon's father came, examined me, and assured methat it was the true plague. Even so, I could not be convinced. Isecretly sent for another doctor who had a great reputation. He examinedme, and being something of a clown said, 'I should not be afraid tosleep with you--and make love to you too, if you were a woman.... '[Still another doctor is summoned but does not return as promised, sending his servant instead. ] I dismissed the man and losing my temperwith the doctors, commended myself to Christ as my doctor. My appetite came back within three days.... I then immediately returnedto my studies and completed what was still wanting to my NewTestament.... I had given orders as soon as I arrived that no one was tovisit me unless summoned by name, lest I should frighten anyone orsuffer inconvenience from anyone's assiduity; but Dorp forced his way infirst of all, then Ath. Mark Laurin and Paschasius Berselius, who cameevery day, did much to make me well with their delightful company. My dear Beatus, who would have believed that this meagre delicate bodyof mine, weakened now by age also, could have succeeded, after all thetroubles of travel and all my studious exertions, in standing up to allthese physical ills as well? You know how ill I was not long ago atBasle, more than once. I was beginning to suspect that that year wouldbe fatal to me: illness followed illness, always more severe. But, atthe very time when this illness was at its height, I felt no torturingdesire to live and no trepidation at the fear of death. My whole hopewas in Christ alone, and I prayed only that he would give me what hejudged most salutary for me. In my youth long ago, as I remember, Iwould shiver at the very name of death. This at least I have achieved asI have grown older, that I do not greatly fear death, and I do notmeasure man's happiness by number of days. I have passed my fiftiethyear; as so few out of so many reach this age, I cannot rightly complainthat I have not lived long enough. And then, if this has any relevance, I have by now already prepared a monument to bear witness to posteritythat I have lived. And perhaps if, as the poets tell, jealousy fallssilent after death, fame will shine out the more brightly: although itill becomes a Christian heart to be moved by human glory; may I have theglory of pleasing Christ! Farewell, my dearest Beatus. The rest you willlearn from my letter to Capito. XIV. TO MARTIN LUTHER Louvain, 30 May 1519 Best greetings, most beloved brother in Christ. Your letter was mostwelcome to me, displaying a shrewd wit and breathing a Christian spirit. I could never find words to express what commotions your books havebrought about here. They cannot even now eradicate from their minds themost false suspicion that your works were composed with my aid, and thatI am the standard-bearer of this party, as they call it. They thoughtthat they had found a handle wherewith to crush good learning--whichthey mortally detest as threatening to dim the majesty of theology, athing they value far above Christ--and at the same time to crush me, whom they consider as having some influence on the revival of studies. The whole affair was conducted with such clamourings, wild talk, trickery, detraction and cunning that, had I not been present andwitnessed, nay, _felt_ all this, I should never have taken any man'sword for it that theologians could act so madly. You would have thoughtit some mortal plague. And yet the poison of this evil beginning with afew has spread so far abroad that a great part of this University wasrunning mad with the infection of this not uncommon disease. I declared that you were quite unknown to me, that I had not yet readyour books, and accordingly neither approved nor disapproved of anythingin them. I only warned them not to clamour before the populace in sohateful a manner without having yet read your books: this matter was_their_ concern, whose judgement should carry the greatest weight. Further I begged them to consider also whether it were expedient totraduce before a mixed multitude views which were more properly refutedin books or discussed between educated persons, particularly as theauthor's way of life was extolled by one and all. I failed miserably; upto this day they continue to rave in their insinuating, nay, slanderousdisputations. How often have we agreed to make peace! How often havethey stirred up new commotions from some rashly conceived shred ofsuspicion! And these men think themselves theologians! Theologians arenot liked in Court circles here; this too they put down to me. Thebishops all favour me greatly. These men put no trust in books, theirhope of victory is based on cunning alone. I disdain them, relying on myknowledge that I am in the right. They are becoming a little mildertowards yourself. They fear my pen, because of their bad conscience; andI would indeed paint them in their true colours, as they deserve, didnot Christ's teaching and example summon me elsewhere. Wild beasts canbe tamed by kindness, which makes these men wild. There are persons in England, and they in the highest positions, whothink very well of your writings. Here, too, there are people, amongthem the Bishop of Liége, who favour your followers. As for me, I keepmyself as far as possible neutral, the better to assist the newflowering of good learning; and it seems to me that more can be done byunassuming courteousness than by violence. It was thus that Christbrought the world under His sway, and thus that Paul made away with theJewish Law, by interpreting all things allegorically. It is wiser to cryout against those who abuse the Popes' authority than against the Popesthemselves: and I think that we should act in the same way with theKings. As for the schools, we should not so much reject them as recallthem to more reasonable studies. Where things are too generally acceptedto be suddenly eradicated from men's minds, we must argue with repeatedand efficacious proofs and not make positive assertions. The poisonouscontentions of certain persons are better ignored than refuted. We musteverywhere take care never to speak or act arrogantly or in a partyspirit: this I believe is pleasing to the spirit of Christ. Meanwhile wemust preserve our minds from being seduced by anger, hatred or ambition;these feelings are apt to lie in wait for us in the midst of ourstrivings after piety. I am not advising you to do this, but only to continue doing what youare doing. I have looked into your Commentaries on the Psalms;[78] I amdelighted with them, and hope that they will do much good. At Antwerp wehave the Prior of the Monastery, [79] a Christian without spot, who lovesyou exceedingly, an old pupil of yours as he says. He is almost alone ofthem all in preaching Christ: the others preach human trivialities ortheir own gain. I have written to Melanchthon. The Lord Jesus impart you His spirit eachday more bountifully, to His own glory and the good of all. I had notyour letter at hand when writing this. XV. TO ULRICH HUTTEN[80] Antwerp, 23 July 1519 To the illustrious knight Ulrich Hutten, greetings: ... As to your demand for a complete portrait, as it were, of More, would that I could execute it with a perfection to match the intensityof your desire! It will be a pleasure, for me as well, to dwell for aspace on the contemplation of by far the sweetest friend of all. But inthe first place, it is not given to every man to explore all More'sgifts. And then I wonder whether he will tolerate being depicted by anindifferent artist; for I think it no less a task to portray More thanit would be to portray Alexander the Great or Achilles, and they were nomore deserving of immortality than he is. Such a subject requires inshort the pencil of an Apelles; but I fear that I am more like Horace'sgladiators[81] than Apelles. Nevertheless, I shall try to sketch you animage rather than a full portrait of the whole man, so far as myobservation or recollection from long association with him in his homehas made this possible. If ever you meet him on some embassy you willthen for the first time understand how unskilled an artist you havechosen for this commission; and I am downright afraid of your accusingme of jealousy or blindness, that out of so many excellences so few havebeen perceived by my poor sight or recorded by my jealousy. But to begin with that side of More of which you know nothing, in heightand stature he is not tall, nor again noticeably short, but there issuch symmetry in all his limbs as leaves nothing to be desired here. Hehas a fair skin, his complexion glowing rather than pale, though farfrom ruddy, but for a very faint rosiness shining through. His hair isof a darkish blond, or if you will, a lightish brown, his beard scanty, his eyes bluish grey, with flecks here and there: this usually denotes ahappy nature and is also thought attractive by the English, whereas weare more taken by dark eyes. It is said that no type of eyes is lesssubject to defects. His expression corresponds to his character, alwaysshowing a pleasant and friendly gaiety, and rather set in a smilinglook; and, to speak honestly, better suited to merriment than toseriousness and solemnity, though far removed from silliness orbuffoonery. His right shoulder seems a little higher than the left, particularly when he is walking: this is not natural to him but due toforce of habit, like many of the little habits which we pick up. Thereis nothing to strike one in the rest of his body; only his hands aresomewhat clumsy, but only when compared with the rest of his appearance. He has always from a boy been very careless of everything to do withpersonal adornment, to the point of not greatly caring for those thingswhich according to Ovid's teaching should be the sole care of men. Onecan tell even now, from his appearance in maturity, how handsome he musthave been as a young man: although when I first came to know him he wasnot more than three and twenty years old, for he is now barelyforty. [82] His health is not so much robust as satisfactory, but equal to all tasksbecoming an honourable citizen, subject to no, or at least very few, diseases: there is every prospect of his living long, as he has a fatherof great age[83]--but a wondrously fresh and green old age. I have neveryet seen anyone less fastidious in his choice of food. Until he grew uphe liked water to drink; in this he took after his father. But so as toavoid irritating anyone over this, he would deceive his comrades bydrinking from a pewter pot ale that was very nearly all water, oftenpure water. Wine--the custom in England is to invite each other to drinkfrom the same goblet--he would often sip with his lips, not to give theappearance of disliking it, and at the same time to accustom himself tocommon ways. He preferred beef, salt fish, and bread of the secondquality, well risen, to the foods commonly regarded as delicacies:otherwise he was by no means averse to all sources of innocent pleasure, even to the appetite. He has always had a great liking for milk foodsand fruit: he enjoys eating eggs. His voice is neither strong nor at allweak, but easily audible, by no means soft or melodious, but the voiceof a clear speaker; for he seems to have no natural gift for vocalmusic, although he delights in every kind of music. His speech iswonderfully clear and distinct, with no trace of haste or hesitation. He likes to dress simply and does not wear silk or purple or goldchains, excepting where it would not be decent not to wear them. It isstrange how careless he is of the formalities by which the vulgar judgegood manners. He neither insists on these from any, nor does heanxiously force them on others whether at meetings or at entertainments, although he knows them well enough, should he choose to indulge in them;but he considers it effeminate and not becoming masculine dignity towaste a good part of one's time in suchlike inanities. Formerly he disliked Court life and the company of princes, for thereason that he has always had a peculiar loathing for tyranny, just ashe has always loved equality. (Now you will hardly find any court somodest that has not about it much noisy ostentation, dissimulation andluxury, while yet being quite free of any kind of tyranny. ) Indeed itwas only with great difficulty that he could be dragged into the Courtof Henry VIII, although nothing more courteous and unassuming than thisprince could be desired. He is by nature somewhat greedy of independenceand leisure; but while he gladly takes advantage of leisure when itcomes his way, none is more careful or patient whenever business demandsit. He seems born and created for friendship, which he cultivates mostsincerely and fosters most steadfastly. He is not one to be afraid ofthe 'abundance of friends' which Hesiod does not approve; he is ready toenter into friendly relations with any. He is in no way fastidious inchoosing friends, accommodating in maintaining them, constant in keepingthem. If he chances on anyone whose defects he cannot mend, he dismisseshim when the opportunity offers, not breaking but gradually dissolvingthe friendship. Whenever he finds any sincere and suited to hisdisposition he so delights in their company and conversation that heappears to make this his chief pleasure in life. He loathes ball-games, cards and gambling, and the other games with which the ordinary run ofmen of rank are used to kill time. Furthermore, while he is somewhatcareless of his own affairs, there is none more diligent in lookingafter his friends' affairs. Need I continue? Should anyone want afinished example of true friendship he could not do better than seek itin More. In social intercourse he is of so rare a courtesy and charm of mannersthat there is no man so melancholy that he does not gladden, no subjectso forbidding that he does not dispel the tedium of it. From his boyhoodhe has loved joking, so that he might seem born for this, but in hisjokes he has never descended to buffoonery, and has never loved thebiting jest. As a youth he both composed and acted in little comedies. Any witty remark he would still enjoy, even were it directed againsthimself, such is his delight in clever sallies of ingenious flavour. Asa result he wrote epigrams as a young man, and delighted particularly inLucian; indeed he was responsible for my writing the _Praise of Folly_, that is for making the camel dance. In human relations he looks for pleasure in everything he comes across, even in the gravest matters. If he has to do with intelligent andeducated men, he takes pleasure in their brilliance; if with theignorant and foolish, he enjoys their folly. He is not put out byperfect fools, and suits himself with marvellous dexterity to all men'sfeelings. For women generally, even for his wife, he has nothing butjests and merriment. You could say he was a second Democritus, orbetter, that Pythagorean philosopher who saunters through themarket-place with a tranquil mind gazing on the uproar of buyers andsellers. None is less guided by the opinion of the herd, but again noneis less remote from the common feelings of humanity. He takes an especial pleasure in watching the appearance, characters andbehaviour of various creatures; accordingly there is almost no kind ofbird which he does not keep at his home, and various other animals notcommonly found, such as apes, foxes, ferrets, weasels and their like. Added to this, he eagerly buys anything foreign or otherwise worthlooking at which comes his way, and he has the whole house stocked withthese objects, so that wherever the visitor looks there is something todetain him; and his own pleasure is renewed whenever he sees othersenjoying these sights. When he was of an age for it, he was not averse to love-affairs withyoung women, but kept them honourable, preferring the love that wasoffered to that which he must chase after, and was more drawn byspiritual than by physical intercourse. He had devoured classical literature from his earliest years. As a ladhe applied himself to the study of Greek literature and philosophy; hisfather, so far from helping him (although he is otherwise a good andsensible man), deprived him of all support in this endeavour; and he wasalmost regarded as disowned, because he seemed to be deserting hisfather's studies--the father's profession is English jurisprudence. Thisprofession is quite unconnected with true learning, but in Britain thosewho have made themselves authorities in it are particularly highlyregarded, and this is there considered the most suitable road to fame, since most of the nobility of that island owe their origin to thisbranch of study. It is said that none can become perfect in it withoutmany years of hard work. So, although the young man's mind born forbetter things not unreasonably revolted from it, nevertheless, aftersampling the scholastic disciplines he worked at the law with suchsuccess that none was more gladly consulted by litigants, and he made abetter living at it than any of those who did nothing else, so quick andpowerful was his intellect. He also devoted much strenuous attention to studying the ecclesiasticalwriters. He lectured publicly to a crowded audience on Augustine's _Cityof God_ while still little more than a lad; and priests and elderly menwere neither sorry nor ashamed to learn sacred matters from a youthfullayman. For a time he gave his whole mind to the study of piety, practising himself for the priesthood in watchings, fastings and prayer, and other like preliminary exercises; in which matter he was far moresensible than most of those who rashly hurl themselves into this arduouscalling without having previously made any trial of themselves. The onlyobstacle to his devoting himself to this mode of life was his inabilityto shake off his longing for a wife. He therefore chose to be a chastehusband rather than an unchaste priest. Still, he married a girl, [84] as yet very young, of good family, butstill untrained--she had always lived in the country with her parentsand sisters--so that he could better fashion her to his own ways. He hadher taught literature and made her skilled in all kinds of music; and hehad really almost made her such as he would have cared to spend all hislife with, had not an untimely death carried her off while still a girl, but after she had borne him several children: of whom there survivethree girls, Margaret, Alice[85] and Cecily, and one boy, John. He wouldnot endure to live long a widower, although his friends counselledotherwise. Within a few months of his wife's death he married awidow, [86] more for the care of the household than for his pleasure, asshe was not precisely beautiful nor, as he jokingly says himself, agirl, but a keen and watchful housewife;[87] with whom he yet lives aspleasantly and agreeably as if she were a most charming young girl. Hardly any husband gets so much obedience from his wife by stern ordersas he does by jests and cajolery. How could he fail to do so, afterhaving induced a woman on the verge of old age, also by no means adocile character, and lastly most attentive to her business, to learn toplay the cithern, the lute, the monochord and the recorders, and performa daily prescribed exercise in this at her husband's wish? [Illustration: XXIX. SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS FAMILY, 1527] He rules his whole household as agreeably, no quarrels or disturbancesarise there. If any quarrel does arise he at once heals or settles thedifference; and he has never let anyone leave his house in anger. Hishouse seems blest indeed with a lucky fate, for none has lived therewithout rising to better fortune, and none has ever acquired a stain onhis reputation there. One would be hard put to it to find any agree aswell with their mothers as he with his stepmother--his father hadalready given him two, and he loved both of them as truly as he lovedhis mother. Recently his father gave him a third stepmother: More swearshis Bible oath he has never seen a better. Moreover, he is so disposedtowards his parents and children as to be neither tiresomelyaffectionate nor ever failing in any family duty. He has a mind altogether opposed to sordid gain. He has put aside fromhis fortune for his children an amount which he considers sufficient forthem; the rest he gives away lavishly. While he still made his living atthe Bar he gave sincere and friendly counsel to all, considering hisclients' interests rather than his own; he would persuade most of themto settle their differences--this would be cheaper. If he failed toachieve this, he would then show them a method of going to law at theleast possible expense--some people here are so minded that theyactually enjoy litigation. In the City of London, where he was born, heacted for some years as a judge in civil causes. [88] This office is notat all onerous--the court sits only on Thursday mornings--but isregarded as one of the most honourable. None dealt with so many cases ashe, nor behaved with such integrity; he usually remitted the chargecustomarily due from litigants (as before the formal entering of thesuit the plaintiff pays into court three shillings, the defendantlikewise, and it is incorrect to demand more). By this behaviour he wonthe deep affection of the City. He had made up his mind to rest content with this position, which wassufficiently influential and yet not exposed to grave dangers. Twice hewas forced into embassies; as he acted in these with great sagacity. King Henry VIII would not rest until he could drag More to Court. Whynot call it 'drag'? No man ever worked so assiduously to gain admissionto the Court as he studied to escape it. But when the King decided tofill his household with men of weight, learning, sagacity and integrity, More was one of the first among many summoned by him: he regards More somuch as one of his intimate circle that he never lets him depart fromhim. If serious matters are to be discussed, there is none more skilledthan he; or if the King decides to relax in pleasant gossiping, there isno merrier companion. Often difficult affairs require a weighty andsagacious arbitrator; More solves these matters with such success thatboth parties are grateful. Yet no one has ever succeeded in persuadinghim to accept a present from anyone. How happy the states would be ifthe ruler everywhere put magistrates like More in office! Meanwhile hehas acquired no trace of haughtiness. Amid all these official burdens he does not forget his old friends andfrom time to time returns to his beloved literature. All the authorityof his office, all his influence with the King, is devoted to theservice of the State and of his friends. His mind, eager to serve alland wondrously prone to pity, has ever been present to help: he will nowbe better able to help others, as he has greater power. Some he assistswith money, some he protects with his authority, others he advances byintroductions; those whom he cannot help otherwise he aids with counsel, and he has never sent anyone away disappointed. You might call More thecommon advocate of all those in need. He regards himself as greatlyenriched when he assists the oppressed, extricates the perplexed andinvolved, or reconciles the estranged. None confers a benefit so gladly, none is so slow to upbraid. And although he is fortunate on so manycounts, and good fortune is often associated with boastfulness, it hasnever yet been my lot to meet any man so far removed from this vice. But I must return to recounting his studies--it was these which chieflybrought More and myself together. In his youth he chiefly practisedverse composition, afterwards he worked hard and long to polish hisprose, practising his style in all kinds of composition. What that styleis like, I need not describe--particularly not to you, who always havehis books in your hands. He especially delighted in composingdeclamations, and in these liked paradoxical themes, for the reason thatthis offers keener practice to the wits. This caused him, while still ayouth, to compose a dialogue in which he defended Plato's Communism, even to the community of wives. He wrote a rejoinder to Lucian's_Tyrannicide_; in this theme he desired to have me as his antagonist, tomake a surer trial of his progress in this branch of letters. His_Utopia_ was published with the aim of showing the causes of the badcondition of states; but was chiefly a portrait of the British State, which he has thoroughly studied and explored. He had written the secondbook first in his leisure hours, and added the first book on the spur ofthe moment later, when the occasion offered. Some of the unevenness ofthe style is due to this. One could hardly find a better _ex tempore_ speaker: a happy talent hascomplete command of a happy turn of speech. He has a present wit, alwaysflying ahead, and a ready memory; and having all this ready to hand, hecan promptly and unhesitatingly produce whatever the subject or occasionrequires. In arguments he is unimaginably acute, so that he oftenpuzzles the best theologians on their own ground. John Colet, a man ofkeen and exact judgement, often observes in intimate conversation thatBritain has only one genius: although this island is rich in so manyfine talents. [Illustration: XXX. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 54] He diligently cultivates true piety, while being remote from allsuperstitious observance. He has set hours in which he offers to God notthe customary prayers but prayers from the heart. With his friends hetalks of the life of the world to come so that one sees that he speakssincerely and not without firm hope. Such is More even in the Court. Andthen there are those who think that Christians are to be found only inmonasteries!... There you have a portrait not very well drawn by a verybad artist from a most excellent model. You will like it less if youhappen to come to know More better. But for the time being I haveprevented your being able to cast in my teeth my failure to obey you, and always accusing me of writing too short letters. Still, this did notseem long to me as I was writing it, and I know that you will not findit long drawn out as you read it: our friend More's charm will see tothat. Farewell. XVI. TO WILLIBALD PIRCKHEIMER[89] Basle, 14 March 1525 To the illustrious Willibald Pirckheimer, greetings: ... I received safely the very pretty ring which you desired me to haveas a memento of you. I know that gems are prized as bringing safety whenone has a fall. But they say too, that if the fall was likely to befatal, the evil is diverted on to the gem, so that it is seen to bebroken after the accident. Once in Britain I fell with my horse from afairly high bank: no damage was found to me or my horse, yet the gem Iwas wearing was whole. It was a present from Alexander, Archbishop ofSt. Andrews, [90] whom I think you know from my writings. When I left himat Siena, he drew it off his finger and handing it to me said: 'Takethis as a pledge of our friendship that will never die. ' And I kept mypledged faith with him even after his death, celebrating my friend'smemory in my writings. There is no part of life into which magicalsuperstition has not insinuated itself: if gems have some great virtue, I could have wished in these days for a ring with an efficacious remedyagainst 'slander's tooth. ' As to the belief about falls, I shall followyour advice--I shall prefer to believe rather than risk myself. Portraits are less precious than jewels--I have received from you amedallic and a painted portrait--but at least they bring my Willibaldmore vividly before me. Alexander the Great would only allow himself tobe painted by Apelles's hand. You have found your Apelles in AlbrechtDürer, [91] an artist of the first rank and no less to be admired for hisremarkable good sense. If only you had likewise found some Lysippus[92]to cast the medal! I have the medal of you on the righthand wall of mybedroom, the painting on the left; whether writing or walking up anddown, I have Willibald before my eyes, so that if I wanted to forget youI could not. Though I have a more retentive memory for friends than foranything else. Certainly Willibald could not be forgotten by me, evenwere there no memento, no portraits, no letters to refresh my memory ofhim. There is another very pleasant thing--the portraits often occasiona talk about you when my friends come to visit me. If only our letterstravelled safely, how little we should miss of each other! You have amedal of me. I should not object to having my portrait painted byDürer, [93] that great artist; but how this can be done I do not see. Once at Brussels he sketched me, but after a start had been made thework was interrupted by callers from the Court. Though I have long beena sad model for painters, and am likely to become a sadder one still asthe days go on. [94] I read with pleasure what you write, as witty as itis wise, on the agitations of certain persons who are destroying theevangelical movement, to which they imagine themselves to be doingsplendid service: and I have much to tell you in my turn about this. Butthis will be another time, when I have more leisure. Farewell. XVII. TO MARTIN LUTHER Basle, 11 April 1526 To Martin Luther, greetings: ... Your letter has been delivered too late;[95] but had it arrived inthe best of time, it would not have moved me one whit. I am not sosimple as to be appeased by one or two pleasantries or soothed byflattery after receiving so many more than mortal wounds. Your nature isby now known to all the world, but you have so tempered your pen thatnever have you written against anyone so frenziedly, nay, what is moreabominable, so maliciously. Now it occurs to you that you are a weaksinner, whereas at other times you insist almost on being taken for God. You are a man, as you write, of violent temperament, and you takepleasure in this remarkable argument. Why then did you not pour forththis marvellous piece of invective on the Bishop of Rochester[96] or onCochleus?[97] They attack you personally and provoke you with insults, while my _Diatribe_[98] was a courteous disputation. And what has allthis to do with the subject--all this facetious abuse, these slanderouslies, charging me with atheism, Epicureanism, scepticism in articles ofthe Christian profession, blasphemy, and what not--besides many otherpoints on which I[99] am silent? I take these charges the less hardly, because in all this there is nothing to make my conscience disturb me. If I did not think as a Christian of God and the Holy Scriptures, Icould not wish my life prolonged even until tomorrow. If you hadconducted your case with your usual vehemence, without frenzied abuse, you would have provoked fewer men against you: as things are, you havebeen pleased to fill more than a third part of the volume with suchabuse, giving free rein to your feelings. How far you have given way tome the facts themselves show--so many palpable crimes do you fasten onme; while my _Diatribe_ was not even intended to stir up those matterswhich the world itself knows of. You imagine, I suppose, that Erasmus has no supporters. More than youthink. But it does not matter what happens to us two, least of all tomyself who must shortly go hence, even if the whole world wereapplauding us: it is _this_ that distresses me, and all the best spiritswith me, that with that arrogant, impudent, seditious temperament ofyours you are shattering the whole globe in ruinous discord, exposinggood men and lovers of good learning to certain frenzied Pharisees, arming for revolt the wicked and the revolutionary, and in short socarrying on the cause of the Gospel as to throw all things sacred andprofane into chaos; as if you were eager to prevent this storm fromturning at last to a happy issue; I have ever striven towards such anopportunity. What you owe me, and in what coin you have repaid me--I donot go into that. All that is a private matter; it is the publicdisaster which distresses me, and the irremediable confusion ofeverything, for which we have to thank only your uncontrolled nature, that will not be guided by the wise counsel of friends, but easily turnsto any excess at the prompting of certain inconstant swindlers. I knownot whom you have saved from the power of darkness; but you should havedrawn the sword of your pen against those ungrateful wretches and notagainst a temperate disputation. I would have wished you a better mind, were you not so delighted with your own. Wish me what you will, only notyour mind, unless God has changed it for you. XVIII. TO THEOPHRASTUS PARACELSUS[100] Basle, _c. _ March 1527 To the most skilled physician Theophrastus of Einsiedeln, etc. , greetings: ... It is not incongruous to wish continued spiritual health to themedical man through whom God gives us physical health. I wonder how youknow me so thoroughly, having seen me once only. I recognize how verytrue are your dark sayings, not by the art of medicine, which I havenever learned, but from my own wretched sensations. I have felt pains inthe region of the liver in the past, and could not divine the source ofthe trouble. I have seen the fat from the kidneys in my water many yearsago. Your third point[101] I do not quite understand, nevertheless itappears to be convincing. As I told you, I have no time for the next few days to be doctored, orto be ill, or to die, so overwhelmed am I with scholarly work. But ifthere is anything which can alleviate the trouble without weakening thebody, I beg you to inform me. If you will be so good as to explain atgreater length your very concise and more than laconic notes, andprescribe other remedies which I can take until I am free, I cannotpromise you a fee to match your art or the trouble you have taken, but Ido at least promise you a grateful heart. You have resurrected Froben[102], that is, my other half: if you restoreme also, you will have restored both of us by treating each of ussingly. May we have the good fortune to keep you in Basle! I fear you may not be able to read this letter dashed off immediately[after receiving yours]. Farewell. Erasmus of Rotterdam, by his own hand. XIX. TO MARTIN BUCER[103] Basle, 11 November 1527 Best greetings: You plead the cause of Capito with some rhetorical skill; but I seethat, eloquent advocate as you are otherwise, you are not sufficientlywell equipped to undertake his defence. Were I to advance my battle-lineof conjectures and proofs, you would realize that you had to devise adifferent speech. But I have had too much of squabbling, and do noteasily bestir myself against men whom I once sincerely loved. What theKnight of Eppendorff[104] ventures or does not venture to do is hisconcern; only that he returns too frequently to this game. I shall notinvolve Capito in the drama unless he involves himself again; let himnot think me such a fool as not to know what is in question. But I havewritten myself on these matters. Furthermore, as to your pleading yourown cause and that of your church, I think it better not to give anyanswer, because this matter would require a very lengthy oration, evenif it were not a matter of controversy. This is merely a brief answer onscattered points. The person who informed me about 'languages'[105] is one whosetrustworthiness not even you would have esteemed lightly; and he thinksno ill of you. Indeed I have never disliked you as far as concernsprivate feelings. There are persons living in your town who werechattering here about 'all the disciplines having been invented bygodforsaken wretches'. Certainly persons of this description, whatevername must be given them, are in the ascendancy everywhere, all studiesare neglected and come to a standstill. At Nuremberg the City Treasuryhas hired lecturers, but there is no one to attend their lectures. You assemble a number of conjectures as to why I have not joined yourchurch. But you must know that the first and most important of all thereasons which withheld me from associating myself with it was myconscience: if my conscience could have been persuaded that thismovement proceeded from God, I should have been now long since a soldierin your camp. The second reason is that I see many in your group who arestrangers to all Evangelical soundness. I make no mention of rumours andsuspicions, I speak of things learned from experience, nay, learned tomy own injury; things experienced not merely from the mob, but from menwho appear to be of some worth, not to mention the leading men. It isnot for me to judge of what I know not: the world is wide. I know someas excellent men before they became devotees of your faith, what theyare now like I do not know: at all events I have learned that several ofthem have become worse and none better, so far as human judgement candiscern. The third thing which deterred me is the intense discord between theleaders of the movement. Not to mention the Prophets and theAnabaptists, what embittered pamphlets Zwingli, Luther and Osianderwrite against each other! I have never approved the ferocity of theleaders, but it is provoked by the behaviour of certain persons; whenthey ought to have made the Gospel acceptable by holy and forbearingconduct, if you really had what you boast of. Not to speak of theothers, of what use was it for Luther to indulge in buffoonery in thatfashion against the King of England, when he had undertaken a task soarduous with the general approval? Was he not reflecting as to the rolehe was sustaining? Did he not realize that the whole world had its eyesturned on him alone? And this is the chief of this movement; I am notparticularly angry with him for treating me so scurrilously: but hisbetrayal of the cause of the Gospel, his letting loose princes, bishops, pseudo-monks and pseudo-theologians against good men, his having madedoubly hard our slavery, which is already intolerable--that is whattortures my mind. And I seem to see a cruel and bloody century ahead, ifthe provoked section gets its breath again, which it is certainly nowdoing. You will say that there is no crowd without an admixture ofwicked men. Certainly it was the duty of the principal men to exercisespecial care in matters of conduct, and not be even on speaking termswith liars, perjurors, drunkards and fornicators. As it is I hear andalmost _see_, that things are far otherwise. If the husband had foundhis wife more amenable, the teacher his pupil more obedient, themagistrate the citizen more tractable, the employer his workman moretrustworthy, the buyer the seller less deceitful, it would have beengreat recommendation for the Gospels. As things are, the behaviour ofcertain persons has had the effect of cooling the zeal of those who atfirst, owing to their love of piety and abhorrence of Pharisaism, lookedwith favour on this movement; and the princes, seeing a disorderly hostspringing up in its wake made up of vagabonds, fugitives, bankrupts, naked, wretched and for the most part even wicked men, are cursing, eventhose who in the beginning had been hopeful. It is not without deep sorrow that I speak of all this, not only becauseI foresee that a business wrongly handled will go from bad to worse, butalso because at last I shall myself have to suffer for it. Certainrascals say that my writings are to blame for the fact that thescholastic theologians and monks are in several places becoming lessesteemed than they would like, that ceremonies are neglected, and thatthe supremacy of the Roman Pontiff is disregarded; when it is quite dearfrom what source this evil has sprung. They were stretching too tightthe rope which is now breaking. They almost set the Pope's authorityabove Christ's, they measured all piety by ceremonies, and tightened thehold of the confession to an enormous extent, while the monks lorded itwithout fear of punishment, by now meditating open tyranny. As a result'the stretched string snapped', as the proverb has it; it could not beotherwise. But I sorely fear that the same will happen one day to theprinces, if they too continue to stretch _their_ rope too tightly. Again, the other side having commenced the action of their drama as theydid, no different ending was possible. May we not live to see worsehorrors! However it was the duty of the leaders of this movement, if Christ wastheir goal, to refrain not only from vice, but even from everyappearance of evil; and to offer not the slightest stumbling block tothe Gospel, studiously avoiding even practices which, although allowed, are yet not expedient. Above all they should have guarded against allsedition. If they had handled the matter with sincerity and moderation, they would have won the support of the princes and bishops: for theyhave not all been given up for lost. And they should not have heedlesslywrecked anything without having something better ready to put in itsplace. As it is, those who have abandoned the Hours do not pray at all. Many who have put off pharisaical clothing are worse in other mattersthan they were before. Those who disdain the episcopal regulations donot even obey the commandments of God. Those who disregard the carefulchoice of foods indulge in greed and gluttony. It is a long-drawn-outtragedy, which every day we partly hear ourselves and partly learn offrom others. I never approved of the abolition of the Mass, even thoughI have always disliked these mean and money-grabbing mass-priests. Therewere other things also which could have been altered without causingriots. As things are, certain persons are not satisfied with any of theaccepted practices; as if a new world could be built of a sudden. Therewill always be things which the pious must endure. If anyone thinks thatMass ought to be abolished because many misuse it, then the Sermonshould be abolished also, which is almost the only custom accepted byyour party. I feel the same about the invocation of the saints and aboutimages. Your letter demanded a lengthy reply, but even this letter is very long, with all that I have to do. I am told that you have a splendid gift forpreaching the Word of the Gospel, and that you conduct yourself morecourteously than do many. So I could wish that with your good sense youwould strive to the end that this movement, however it began, maythrough firmness and moderation in doctrine and integrity of conduct bebrought to a conclusion worthy of the Gospel. To this end I shall helpyou to the best of my ability. As it is, although the host of monks andcertain theologians assail me with all their artifices, nothing willinduce me wittingly to cast away my soul. You will have the good sensenot to circulate this letter, lest it cause any disturbance. We wouldhave more discussions if we could meet. Farewell. I had no time to readthis over. Erasmus of Rotterdam, by my own hand. [Illustration: XXXI. ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 60] XX. TO ALFONSO VALDES[106] Basle, 1 August 1528 To the most illustrious Alfonso Valdes, Secretary to His ImperialMajesty, greetings: ... I have learned very plainly from other men's letters what youindicate very discreetly, as is your way--that there are some who seekto make _Terminus_, [107] the seal on my ring, an occasion for slander, protesting that the addition of the device _Concedo nulli_ [I yield tonone] shows intolerable arrogance. What is this but some fatal malady, consisting in misrepresenting everything? Momus[108] is ridiculed forcriticizing Venus's slipper; but these men outdo Momus himself, findingsomething to carp at in a ring. I would have called _them_ Momuses, butMomus carps at nothing but what he has first carefully inspected. Thesefault-finders, or rather false accusers, criticize with their eyes shutwhat they neither see nor understand: so violent is the disease. Andmeanwhile they think themselves pillars of the Church, whereas all theydo is to expose their stupidity combined with a malice no less extreme, when they are already more notorious than they should be. They aredreaming if they think it is Erasmus who says _Concedo nulli_. But ifthey read my writings they would see that there is none so humble that Irank myself above him, being more liable to yield to all than to none. [Illustration: XXXII. ERASMUS'S DEVICE] Now those who know me intimately from close association will attributeany vice to me sooner than arrogance, and will acknowledge that I amcloser to the Socratic utterance, 'This alone I know, that I knownothing, ' than to this, 'I yield to none. ' But if they imagine that Ihave so insolent a mind as to put myself before all others, do they alsothink me such a fool as to profess this in a device? If they had anyChristian feeling they would understand those words either as not mineor as bearing another meaning. They see there a sculptured figure, inits lower part a stone, in its upper part a youth with flying hair. Doesthis look like Erasmus in any respect? If this is not enough, they seewritten on the stone itself _Terminus_: if one takes this as the lastword, that will make an iambic dimeter acatalectic, _Concedo nulliTerminus_; if one begins with this word, it will be a trochaic dimeteracatalectic, _Terminus concedo nulli_. What if I had painted a lion andadded as a device 'Flee, unless you prefer to be torn to pieces'? Wouldthey attribute these words to me instead of the lion? But what they aredoing now is just as foolish; for if I mistake not, I am more like alion than a stone. They will argue, 'We did not notice that it was verse, and we knownothing about Terminus. ' Is it then to be a crime henceforward to havewritten verse, because _they_ have not learned the theory of metre? Atleast, as they knew that in devices of this kind one actually aims at acertain degree of obscurity in order to exercise the guessing powers ofthose who look at them, if they did not know of Terminus--although theycould have learned of him from the books of Augustine or Ambrose--theyshould have inquired of experts in this kind of matter. In former timesfield boundaries were marked with some sign. This was a stone projectingabove the earth, which the laws of the ancients ordered never to bemoved; here belongs the Platonic utterance, 'Remove not what thou hastnot planted. ' The law was reinforced by a religious awe, the better todeter the ignorant multitude from daring to remove the stone, by makingit believe that to violate the stone was to violate a god in it, whomthe Romans call Terminus, and to him there was also dedicated a shrineand a festival, the Terminalia. This god Terminus, as the Romanhistorian has it, was alone in refusing to yield to Jupiter because'while the birds allowed the deconsecration of all the othersanctuaries, in the shrine of Terminus alone they wereunpropitious. '[109] Livy tells this story in the first book of his_History_, and again in Book 5 he narrates how 'when after the taking ofauguries the Capitol was being cleared, Juventas [Youth] and Terminuswould not allow themselves to be moved. '[110] This omen was welcomedwith universal rejoicing, for they believed that it portended an eternalempire. The _youth_ is useful for war, and _Terminus_ is fixed. Here they will exclaim perchance, 'What have _you_ to do with a mythicalgod?' He came to me, I did not adopt him. When I was called to Rome, andAlexander, titular Archbishop of St. Andrews, [111] was summoned homefrom Siena by his father King James of Scotland, as a grateful andaffectionate pupil he gave me several rings for a memento of our timetogether. Among these was one which had _Terminus_ engraved on thejewel; an Italian interested in antiquities had pointed this out, whichI had not known before. I seized on the omen and interpreted it as awarning that the term of my existence was not far off--at that time Iwas in about my fortieth year. To keep this thought in my mind I beganto seal my letters with this sign. I added the verse, as I said before. And so from a heathen god I made myself a device, exhorting me tocorrect my life. For Death is truly a boundary which knows no yieldingto any. But in the medal there is added in Greek, [Greek: Ora telosmakrou biou], that is, 'Consider the end of a long life, ' in Latin _Morsultima linea rerum_. They will say, 'You could have carved on it a deadman's skull. ' Perhaps I should have accepted that, if it had come myway: but this pleased me, because it came to me by chance, and thenbecause it had a double charm for me; from the allusion to an ancientand famous story, and from its obscurity, a quality specially belongingto devices. There is my defence on _Terminus_, or better say on hair-splitting. Andif only they would at last set a _term_ to their misrepresentations! Iwill gladly come to an agreement with them to change my device, if theywill change their malady. Indeed by so doing they would be doing morefor their own authority, which they complain is being undermined by thelovers of good learning. I myself am assuredly so far from desiring toinjure their reputation that I am deeply pained at their deliveringthemselves over to the ridicule of the whole world by these stupidtricks, and not blushing to find themselves confuted with mockery onevery occasion. The Lord keep you safe in body and soul, my belovedfriend in Christ. XXI. TO CHARLES BLOUNT[112] Freiburg im Breisgau, 1 March 1531 To the noble youth Charles Mountjoy, greetings: ... I have determined to dedicate to you Livy, the prince of Latinhistory; already many times printed, but never before in such amagnificent or accurate edition: and if this is not enough, augmented byfive books recently discovered; these were found by some good genius inthe library of the monastery at Lorsch by Simon Grynaeus, [113] a man atonce learned without arrogance in all branches of literature and at thesame time born for the advancement of liberal studies. Now thismonastery was built opposite Worms, or Berbethomagium, by Charlemagneseven hundred years and more ago, and equipped with great store ofbooks; for this was formerly the special care of princes, and this isusually the most precious treasure of the monasteries. The originalmanuscript was one of marvellous antiquity, painted[114] in the antiquefashion with the letters in a continuous series, so that it has provedvery difficult to separate word from word, unless one is knowledgeable, careful and trained for this very task. This caused much trouble inpreparing a copy to be handed to the printer's men for their use; acareful and faithful watch was kept to prevent any departure from theoriginal in making the copy. So if the poor fragment which came to usrecently from Mainz was justly welcomed by scholars with greatrejoicing, [115] what acclamation should greet this large addition toLivy's _History_? Would to God that this author could be restored to us complete andentire. There are rumours flying round that give some hope of this: menboast of unpublished Liviana existing, now in Denmark, now in Poland, now in Germany. At least now that fortune has given us these remnantsagainst all men's expectations, I do not see why we should despair ofthe possibility of finding still more. And here, in my opinion at least, the princes would be acting worthily if they offered rewards andattracted scholars to the search for such a treasure, or prevailed uponthem to publish--if there are perchance any who are suppressing andhiding away to the great detriment of studies something in a fit stateto be of public utility. For it seems perfectly absurd that men will digthrough the bowels of the earth almost down to Hades at vast peril andexpense in order to find a little gold or silver: and yet will utterlydisregard treasures of this kind, as far above those others in value asthe soul excels the body, and not consider them worth searching for. This is the spirit of Midases, not of princes; and as I know that yourcharacter is utterly at variance with this spirit, I doubt not that youwill most eagerly welcome this great gain. Now, there are chiefly twoconsiderations which remove all possible doubt as to this half-decade'sbeing genuinely by Livy: in the first place that of the diction itself, which in all features recalls its author: secondly that of the argumentsor epitomes of Floras, which correspond exactly with these books. And so, knowing that there is no kind of reading more fitting for men ofnote than that of the historians, of whom Livy is easily the chief (Ispeak of the Roman historians), particularly as we have nothing ofSallust beyond two fragments, and bearing in mind what an insatiableglutton, so to speak, your father has always been for history (and Idoubt not that you resemble him in this also): I thought I should not beacting incongruously in publishing these five books with a specialdedication to you. Although in this point I should not wish you toresemble your father too closely. He is in the way of poring over hisbooks every day from dinner until midnight, which is wearisome to hiswife and attendants and a cause of much grumbling among the servants; sofar he has been able to do this without loss of health; still, I do notthink it wise for you to take the same risk, which may not turn out assuccessfully. Certainly when your father was studying along with thepresent king while still a young man, they read chiefly history, withthe strong approval of his father Henry VII, a king of remarkablejudgement and good sense. Joined to this edition is the Chronology of Henry Glareanus, a man ofexquisite and many-sided learning, whose indefatigable industry refines, adorns and enriches with the liberal disciplines not the renownedGymnasium at Freiburg alone, but this whole region as well. TheChronology shows the order of events, the details of the wars, and thenames of persons, in which up till now there has reigned astonishingconfusion, brought about through the fault of the scribes and dabblersin learning. Yet this was the sole guiding light of history! Withoutthis Pole star our navigation on the ocean of history is completelyblind: and without this thread to help him, the reader becomes involvedin an inextricable maze, learned though he be, in these labyrinths ofevents. If you consider your letter well repaid by this gift, it willnow be your turn to write me a letter. Farewell. XXII. TO BARTHOLOMEW LATOMUS[116] Basle, 24 August 1535 To Bartholomew Latomus, greetings: ... In apologizing for your silence you are wasting your time, believeme; I am not in the habit of judging tried friends by this commoncourtesy. It would be impudent of me to charge you with an omissionwhich you have an equal right to accuse me of in turn.... The heads ofthe colleges are not doing anything new. They are afraid of their ownrevenues suffering, this being the sole aim of most of them. You wouldscarcely believe to what machinations they stooped at Louvain in theirefforts to prevent a trilingual college being established. I workedstrenuously in the matter, and have made myself accordingly veryunpopular. There was an attempt to set up a chair of languages atTournai, but the University of Louvain and the Franciscans at Tournaidid not rest until the project was abandoned. The house erected for thispurpose overlooked the Franciscans' garden--that was the cause of thetrouble.... I have had a long life, counting in years; but were I to calculate thetime spent in wrestling with fever, the stone and the gout, I have notlived long. But we must patiently bear whatever the Lord has sent uponus, Whose will no one can resist, and Who alone knows what is good forus.... The glory [of an immortal name] moves me not at all, I am notanxious over the applause of posterity. My one concern and desire is todepart hence with Christ's favour. Many French nobles have fled here for fear of the winter storm, afterhaving been recalled. [117] 'The lion shall roar, who shall not fear?'says the Prophet. [118] A like terror has seized the English, from anunlike cause. Certain monks have been beheaded and among them a monk ofthe Order of St. Bridget[119] was dragged along the ground, then hanged, and finally drawn and quartered. There is a firm and probable rumourhere that the news of the Bishop of Rochester having been co-opted byPaul III as a cardinal caused the King to hasten his being dragged outof prison and beheaded--his method of conferring the scarlet hat. It isall too true that Thomas More has been long in prison and his fortuneconfiscated. It was being said that he too had been executed, but I haveno certain news as yet. [120] Would that he had never embroiled himselfin this perilous business and had left the theological cause to thetheologians. The other friends who from time to time honoured me withletters and gifts now send nothing and write nothing from fear, andaccept nothing from anyone, as if under every stone there slept ascorpion. It seems that the Pope is seriously thinking of a Council here. But I donot see how it is to meet in the midst of such dissension betweenprinces and lands. The whole of Lower Germany is astonishingly infectedwith Anabaptists: in Upper Germany they pretend not to notice them. Theyare pouring in here in droves; some are on their way to Italy. TheEmperor is besieging Goletta; in my opinion there is more danger fromthe Anabaptists. I do not think that France is entirely free of this plague; but they aresilent there for fear of the cudgel.... Now I must tell you something about my position which will amuse you. Ihad written to Paul III at the instance of Louis Ber, the distinguishedtheologian. Before unsealing the letter he spoke of me with greatrespect. And as he had to make several scholars cardinals for the comingCouncil, the name of Erasmus was proposed among others. But obstacleswere mentioned, my health, not strong enough for the duties, and my lowincome; for they say there is a decree which excludes from this officethose whose annual income is less than 3, 000 ducats. Now they are busyheaping benefices on me, so that I can acquire the proper income fromthese and receive the red hat. The proverbial cat in court-dress. I havea friend in Rome who is particularly active in the business; in vainhave I warned him more than once by letter that I want no cures orpensions, that I am a man who lives from day to day, and every dayexpecting death, often longing for it, so horrible sometimes are thepains. It is hardly safe for me to put a foot outside my bedroom, andeven the merest trifle upsets me. [121] With my peculiar, emaciated bodyI can only stand warm air. And in this condition they want to push meforward as a candidate for benefices and cardinals' hats! But meanwhileI am gratified by the Supreme Pontiff's delusions about me and hisfeelings towards me. But I am being more wordy than I intended. I shouldeasily forgive your somewhat lengthy letter, if you were to repeat thatfault often.... Farewell. FOOTNOTES: [21] Servatius Roger (d. 1540), whom Erasmus came to know as a youngmonk soon after his entry into Steyn, became eighth Prior of Steyn; itwas as Prior that he wrote to Erasmus in 1514 to urge him to return tothe monastery, see pp. 11, 87 f. , 212 ff. [22] Juvenal, ix. 18-20. [23] N. Werner (d. 5 September 1504), later Prior of Steyn. [24] Probably James Stuart, brother of James IV of Scotland, Archbishopof St. Andrews, 1497, aged about twenty-one at this time. [25] Relative of John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester. Took his doctor'sdegree in Italy, returned to England 1507. [26] William Grocyn (_c. _ 1446-1519), Fellow of New College, one of thefirst to teach Greek in Oxford. [27] Thomas Linacre (_c. _ 1460-1524), Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, 1484. Translator of Galen. Helped to found the College ofPhysicians, 1518. [28] James Batt (1464?-1502), secretary to the council of the town ofBergen. [29] Anne of Burgundy, the Lady of Veere (1469?-1518), patroness ofErasmus until 1501-2, when she remarried. [30] i. E. To replace Greek words either corrupted or omitted. Erasmus ishere referring probably to the text of the _Letters_ of Jerome; he usesthe same expression in his letter of 21 May 1515 to Leo X (Allen 335, v. 268 ff. ): 'I have purified the text of the Letters ... And carefullyrestored the Greek, which was either missing altogether or insertedincorrectly'. [31] Brother of Henry of Bergen (Bishop of Cambrai) and by this timeAbbot of St. Bertin at St. Omer, where he was forcibly installed by hisbrother the bishop in 1493. [32] 'And my sin is ever before me, ' where _contra_ could be rendered aseither 'before' or 'against'; the ambiguity is resolved by referring tothe Greek, where [Greek: enôpion] = face to face with. [33] Apparently a loose statement of the _Constitutions_ of Clement V, promulgated after the Council of Vienne, 1311-12, Bk. 5, tit. 1, cap. 1, in which for the better conversion of infidels it was ordained that twoteachers for each of the three languages, Hebrew, Arabic, and Chaldaeanbe appointed in each of the four Universities, Paris, Oxford, Bolognaand Salamanca. Greek was included in the original list, but afterwardsomitted. [34] Probably George Hermonymus of Sparta. [35] Cf. Juvenal, iii. 78. (_Graeculus esuriens_. ) [36] William Warham (1450?-1532) became Archbishop of Canterbury in1503, Lord Chancellor of England, 1504-15, Chancellor of OxfordUniversity from 1506. This letter forms the preface to _Hecuba_ in_Euripidis_ ... _Hecuba et Iphigenia; Latinae factae Erasmo Roterodamointerprete_, Paris, J. Badius, September 1506. [37] [Greek: en tô pithô tên kerameian], i. E. , to run before one canwalk, to make a winejar being the most advanced job in pottery. [38] Politian translated parts of Iliad, 2-5 into Latin hexameters, dedicating the work to Lorenzo dei Medici. Published by A. Mai, Spicilegium Romanum, ii. [39] Nicholas de Valle translated the _Works and Days_ (_Georgica_), Bonninus Mombritius the _Theogonia_. [40] Martin Phileticus. [41] No. 3; his Funeral Orations were printed _c. _ 1481 at Milan. [42] Aldus Manutius (1449-1515) founded the Aldine Press at Venice, 1494. [43] Published by Aldus, 1513. [44] Published by Aldus, 1528. [45] Published by Aldus, 1518, although projected in 1499. [46] _Euripidis ... Hecuba et Iphigenia_ [in Aulide]; _Latinae factaeErasmo Roterodamo interprete_, Paris, J. Badius, 13 September 1506. Reprinted by Aldus at Venice, December 1507 (and by Froben at Basle in1518 and 1524). [47] Thomas More (1478-1535). This letter is the preface to the _MoriaeEncomium_, published by Gilles Gourmont at Paris without date, reprintedby Schürer at Strasbourg, August 1511. [48] The Greek 'laughing philosopher'. [49] John Colet (1466?-1519), Dean of St. Paul's 1504, had founded St. Paul's School in the previous year (1510). [50] Raffaele Riario (1461-1521), Leo X's most formidable rival in theelection of 1513. [51] Francesco Alidosi of Imola, d. 1511. [52] Robert Guibé(_c. _ 1456-1513), Cardinal of St. Anastasia and Bishopof Nantes (1507). [53] Leo X. [54] Wolsey. [55] _Enchiridion militis Christiani_, printed in _Lucubratiunculae_, 1503. [56] A new and enlarged edition under the title _Adagiorum Chiliades_, printed by Aldus in 1508. [57] _De duplici copia verborum ac rerum commentarii duo_, Paris, Badius, 1512. [58] The Hebrew scholar, who adhered to the Reformation, 1523. [59] F. Ximenes (1436-1517), confessor of Queen Isabella, Archbishop ofToledo, 1495, founded Alcalá University, 1500; he promoted the PolyglotBible. [60] (1428-1524), taught medicine at Ferrara and made translations fromAristotle, Dio Cassius, Galen and Hippocrates. [61] (d. 1525) Professor of Medicine at Naples, and from 1507 at Venice;physician to Aldus's household, where he met Erasmus. [62] (1466-1532), physician, astronomer and humanist; learned Greek withErasmus in Paris. He was physician to the Court of Francis I. [63] (1479-1537), Dean of the Medical Faculty at Paris, 1508-9, andPhysician to Francis I. [64] (1467/8-1540), the Parisian humanist, whose _Annotationes in xxivPandectarum libros_ were published by Badius in 1508. [65] Ulrich Zäsi or Zasius (1461-1535) Lector Ordinarius in Laws atFreiburg from 1506 until his death. [66] Henry Loriti of canton Glarus, usually known as Glareanus(1488-1563), had an academy at Basle where he took in thirty boarders. [67] Published at Basle, March 1519. [68] A translation of Galen's _Methodus medendi_, not printed until June1519. Lupset supervised the printing. [69] This may be the _De pueris statim ac liberaliter instituendis_, composed in Italy. More writes to Erasmus in 1516 (Allen 502) that hehas received part of the MS. From Lupset, but it was not published until1529. [70] Luther's _Theses_, posted 31 October 1517 and printed shortlyafterwards at Wittenberg. [71] The proposals for a crusade drawn up at Rome, 16 November 1517. [72] The _Julius Exclusus_, an attack on Pope Julius II, who died 1513. Erasmus never directly denied his authorship, and More speaks of a copyin Erasmus's hand (Allen 502). [73] Beat Bild (1485-1547), whose family came from Rheinau nearSchlettstadt, became M. A. , Paris, in 1505. He worked as a corrector atHenry Stephanus's press in Paris, with Schürer in Strasbourg, and from1511 for fifteen years with Amerbach and Froben in Basle, where heedited and superintended the publication of numerous books. [74] Haecceity, 'thisness', 'individuality', t. T. Of Scotisticphilosophy, cf. Quiddity, 'essence'. [75] I. E. The Literary Society of Strasbourg. A letter survives, addressed to Erasmus in the name of this Society, dated 1 September1514, in which occur all the names mentioned here, with the exception ofGerbel's. [76] A portrait drawing of Varnbüler by Albrecht Dürer is in theAlbertina, Vienna; Dürer made also a woodcut from it. [77] Hermann, Count of Neuenahr (1492-1530), a pupil of Caesarius, withwhom he visited Italy in 1508-9. In 1517 he lectured in Cologne on Greekand Hebrew, and became later Chancellor of the University. Among hisworks is a letter in defence of Erasmus. [78] _Operationes in Psalmos_. Wittenberg, 1519. [79] James Probst or Proost (Præpositus) of Ypres (1486-1562). [80] Ulrich Hutten (1488-1523), the German knight and humanist. [81] Satires 2, vii. 96 (where however the gladiators are the subject, and not the artists, of a crude charcoal sketch). [82] Sir Thomas More's portrait at the age of fifty was painted by HansHolbein; it is now in the Frick Collection, New York. Two portraitdrawings of him by Holbein are in the Royal Library at Windsor Castle. See also p. 236, note 4. [83] John More (1453?-1530), at this time a Judge of Common Pleas, promoted to the King's Bench in 1523. [84] Jane Colt (_c. _ 1487-1511). [85] More's second daughter was Elizabeth; Alice was the name of hisstepdaughter. [86] Alice Middleton. [87] A group portrait of Sir Thomas More with his entire family waspainted by Hans Holbein about 1527-8 at More's house in Chelsea. It wascommissioned from the artist at the recommendation of Erasmus. Theoriginal has been lost; see Plate XXIX and p. 260. [88] More was elected Under-Sheriff, 1510. [89] W. Pirckheimer (1470-1530), humanist. After studying law and Greekin Italy he settled at Nuremberg. Some of his works were illustrated byDürer. [90] Alexander Stewart (_c. _ 1493-1513), natural son of James IV ofScotland, fell at Flodden. Erasmus was his tutor in Italy in 1508-9. Fordetails of this ring see p. 247 f. [91] Dürer made three portraits of him, two drawings (now in Berlin andin Brunswick) and an engraving. [92] The Greek sculptor, _c. _ 350 B. C. In a letter to Pirckheimer dated8 January 1523-4 (Allen 1408, 29 n. ) Erasmus appears dissatisfied withthe reverse of the medal cast by Metsys in 1519. Extant examples allshow a reverse revised in accordance with his suggestions. [93] A drawing of Erasmus was made by Dürer in 1520 (now in the Louvre), and an engraving in 1526. [94] Erasmus had his portrait painted by Holbein several times in 1523-4and 1530-1. A number of originals and copies are still extant. [95] Luther's letter, in which he evidently attempted to mitigateErasmus's indignation against his _De Servo Arbitrio_ (The Will notfree), which was a reply to Erasmus's _De Libero Arbitrio_ (On freeWill), 1524. Luther's letter came 'too late' because Erasmus had alreadycomposed the _Hyperaspistes Diatribe adversus Servum Arbitrium MartiniLutheri_, Basle, Froben, 1526. [96] John Fisher (1459?-1535). [97] John Dobeneck of Wendelstein. [98] i. E. , the _De Libero Arbitrio_. [99] Reading _reticeo_ for _retices_. [100] Theophrastus Bombast of Einsiedeln (also known as Theophrastus ofHohenheim, whence his ancestors came), 1493-1541. The name Paracelsusmay be a translation of Hohenheim, or may signify a claim to be greaterthan Celsus, the Roman physician. Appointed _physicus et ordinariusBasiliensis_ in 1527. [101] Paracelsus had diagnosed the stone, from which Erasmus suffered, as being due to crystallization of salt in the kidneys. [102] Froben died before the year was out. [103] Martin Butzer (_c. _ 1491-1551), later Bucer, a Dominican, whoobtained dispensation from his vows in 1521 and adhered to theReformation. At this time he was a member of the Strasbourg party, andthis letter is probably an answer to a request for an interview forBucer and other Strasbourg delegates on their way through Basle toBerne. He eventually became Regius Professor of Divinity at Cambridgeunder Edward VI. [104] Henry of Eppendorff, a former friend who followed Hutten on hisquarrel with Erasmus. [105] Erasmus stated in the _Responsio_ of 1 August 1530, that in theReformed schools little was taught beyond _dogmata et linguae_ and itmay be some such criticism, based on what he had heard from a reliablesource (perhaps Pirckheimer at Nuremberg), to which Bucer had takenexception in his letter. [106] Alfonso Valdes (1490?-1532), a devoted admirer of Erasmus, wasfrom 1522 onwards one of Charles V's secretaries. He wrote two dialoguesin defence of the Emperor. [107] On this gem see Edgar Wind, 'Aenigma Termini, ' in _Journ. Of theWarburg Institute_, I (1937-8), p. 66. [108] Greek god of ridicule. [109] Livy, I, 55, 3. Livy refers to the clearing of the Tarpeian rockby Tarquinius Superbus (534-510 B. C. ), involving the deconsecration ofexisting shrines, as a preliminary to the building of the temple ofJuppiter Capitolinus. The auguries allowed the evacuation of the othergods, Terminus and Juventas alone refusing to depart. [110] Livy, 5, 54, 7. [111] See p. 66. [112] Preface to _T. Livii ... Historiæ_, Basle, Froben, 1531. CharlesBlount (b. 1518), eldest son of William Blount, Lord Mountjoy. [113] _c. _ 1495-1541, Professor of Greek at Basle, 1529. He found theMS. Containing Livy, Bks. 41-5, in 1527. [114] Not 'illuminated. ' Erasmus refers elsewhere (Allen 919. 55) to acodex as _non scripto sed picto_. [115] The MS. , now lost, containing Bks. 33, 17-49 and 40, 37-59, foundin the cathedral library at Mainz, published in Mainz, J. Schoeffer, November 1518. [116] (1498?-1570). Taught Latin and Greek at Freiburg and became headof a college there; in 1534 became the first Professor of Latin in theCollège de France. Retired to Coblenz in 1542. [117] By the Edict of Courcy. [118] Amos iii. 8. [119] Richard Reynolds of the Bridgettine Syon College at Isleworth. [120] More had been executed 6 July 1535. [121] Lit. 'not even the peeping of an ass is safe. ' This Greek proverb, used of those who go to law about trifles, refers to the story of apotter whose wares were smashed by a donkey in the workshop going tolook out of the window. In court the potter, asked of what hecomplained, replied: 'Of the peeping of an ass. ' See Apuleius, _Met. _IX. , 42. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS I. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS. By Quentin Metsys. 1517. Rome, Galleria Corsini. _Facing p. 14_ One half of a diptych, the pendant being a portrait of Erasmus's friend, Pierre Gilles (Petrus Aegidius), town clerk of Antwerp. The diptych wassent to Sir Thomas More in London; the portrait of Gilles is now in thecollection of the Earl of Radnor at Longford Castle. II. VIEW OF ROTTERDAM at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Contemporary engraving, hand-coloured. _Facing p. 15_ III. PORTRAIT BUST OF JOHN COLET, Dean of St. Paul's (1467-1519). ByPietro Torrigiano. St. Paul's School, Hammersmith, London. _Facing p. 30_ John Colet, a close friend of Erasmus (see pp. 30-1), founded St. Paul'sSchool. The artist, a Florentine sculptor, was active in London for manyyears and is best known for his effigies on some of the royal tombs inWestminster Abbey. The attribution of this bust is due to F. Grossmann(_Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes_, XIII, July 1950), who identified it as a cast from Torrigiano's original bust on Colet'stomb (destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666) and also pointed out thatHolbein's drawing of Colet in the Royal Library at Windsor Castle (No. 12199) was made from the lost monument after Colet's death. IV. PORTRAIT OF SIR THOMAS MORE (1477-1535). Dated 1527. By HansHolbein. New York, Frick Collection. _Facing p. 31_ See also Holbein's drawing of Thomas More with his family, Pl. XXIX. V. Pen and ink sketches by Erasmus. 1514. Basle, University Library (MSA. IX. 56). _Facing p. 46_ These doodles of grotesque heads and other scribbles are found inErasmus's manuscript copy of the _Scholia to the Letters of St. Jerome_, preserved in the Library of Basle University and published by Emil Major(_Handzeichnungen des Erasmus von Rotterdam_, Basle, 1933). Erasmusworked on this manuscript shortly after his arrival in Basle in August1514. His edition of the _Letters of Jerome_ was published by Froben in1516 (see p. 90). VI. A Manuscript Page of Erasmus. Basle, University Library. _Facing p. 47_ See note on Pl. V. VII. Title-page of the _Adagia_, printed by Aldus Manutius in 1508. _Facing p. 62_ The printing of this edition was supervised by Erasmus during his visitto Venice (see pp. 64-5). On this title-page is the emblem of the AldinePress, which is found again on the reverse of Aldus's portrait medal(Pl. IX). VIII. VIEW OF VENICE, 1493. Woodcut. _After p. 62_ From Schedel's _Weltchronik_, Nuremberg, 1493. IX. PORTRAIT MEDAL OF ALDUS MANUTIUS. By an unknown Venetian medallist. Venice, Museo Correr. _After p. 62_ On the reverse, the emblem adopted by Aldus in 1495 from an antiquecoin, an anchor entwined by a dolphin. The Greek inscription, [Greek:Speude bradeos] (Hasten slowly), is also of antique origin. Cf. Hill, _Corpus of Italian Medals_, 1930, No. 536. X. A page from the printed copy of the _Praise of Folly_ with a drawingby Hans Holbein. Basle, Öffentliche Kunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facingp. 63_ This copy of the _Laus Stultitiae_, which Holbein decorated withmarginal drawings in 1515, belonged at that time to Oswald Myconius, afriend of Froben's. Apparently not all the drawings in the book are byHans Holbein. The drawing shows Erasmus working at his desk, fol. S. 3 recto. Abovethis thumbnail sketch there is a Latin note in the handwriting ofMyconius: 'When Erasmus came here and saw this portrait, he exclaimed, "Heigh-ho, if Erasmus still looked like that, he would quickly findhimself a wife!"' XI. A page from the printed copy of the _Praise of Folly_ with a drawingby Hans Holbein. Basle, Öffentliche Kunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facingp. 78_ See note on Pl. X. This is the last page of the book, fol. X. 4 recto;the drawing shows Folly descending from the pulpit at the close of herdiscourse. XII. THE PRINTING PRESS OF JOSSE BADIUS. Woodcut by Albrecht Dürer, 1520-1. _Facing p. 79_ Josse Badius of Brabant had established in Paris the Ascensian Press(named after his native place, Assche); he printed many books byErasmus. See pp. 60, 79-83. XIII. PORTRAIT OF JOHANNES FROBEN (1460-1527). By Hans Holbein. About1522-3. Hampton Court, H. M. The Queen. _Facing p. 86_ On this portrait of Erasmus's printer, publisher and friend, see PaulGanz, _The Paintings of Hans Holbein_, 1950, Cat. No. 33. XIV. DESIGN FOR THE PRINTER'S EMBLEM OF JOHANNES FROBEN. Tempera oncanvas, heightened with gold. By Hans Holbein. 1523. Basle, ÖffentlicheKunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facing p. 87_ The emblem shows the wand of Mercury, and two serpents with a dove, anallusion to the Gospel of St. Matthew, x. 16: 'Be ye therefore wise asserpents and harmless as doves. ' XV. THE HANDS OF ERASMUS. Drawing by Hans Holbein. 1523. Paris, Louvre. _Facing p. 102_ These studies were used by Holbein for his portraits of Erasmus now atLongford Castle (Pl. XVI) and in the Louvre (Pl. XXVIII). XVI. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS AT THE AGE OF 57. Dated 1523. By Hans Holbein. Longford Castle, Earl of Radnor. _Facing p. 103_ The Greek inscription, 'The Labours of Hercules', alludes to Erasmus'sown view of his life (see p. 125). On this portrait see P. Ganz, op. Cit. , Cat. No. 34. XVII. VIEW OF BASLE. Woodcut. _Facing p. 134_ From the _Chronik_ by Johann Stumpf, 1548. XVIII. Title-page of the New Testament, printed by Froben in 1520. Designed by Hans Holbein. _Facing p. 135_ XIX. THE ERASMUS HOUSE AT ANDERLECHT NEAR BRUSSELS. _Facing p. 150_ From May to November 1521 Erasmus stayed here as the guest of hisfriend, the canon Pierre Wichmann. The house was built in 1515 under thesign of the Swan. It is now a museum in which are preserved numerousrelics of Erasmus and his age. XX. The Room used by Erasmus as study during his stay at Anderlecht. _Facing p. 151_ XXI. PORTRAIT OF MARTIN LUTHER AS A MONK. Engraving by Lucas Cranach. 1520. _Facing p. 158_ XXII. PORTRAIT OF ULRICH VON HUTTEN (1488-1523). Anonymous Germanwoodcut. _Facing p. 159_ XXIII. THE HOUSE 'ZUM WALFISCH' AT FREIBURG-IM-BREISGAU. _Facing p. 174_ When Erasmus arrived in Freiburg in 1529, he was invited by the TownCouncil to live in this house, which had been built for the EmperorMaximilian. See p. 176. XXIV. PORTRAIT OF CARDINAL HIERONYMUS ALEANDER. Drawing. Arras, Library. _Facing p. 175_ One of the 280 portrait drawings collected in the codex known as the_Recueil d'Arras_. XXV. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS. By Hans Holbein. 1531-2. Basle, ÖffentlicheKunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facing p. 190_ 'Holbein may have painted this little roundel on the occasion of a visitto Erasmus at Freiburg' (P. Ganz, op. Cit. ). XXVI. ERASMUS DICTATING TO HIS SECRETARY. Woodcut, 1530. _Facing p. 191_ The woodcut shows the aged Erasmus dictating to his amanuensis GilbertusCognatus in a room of the University of Freiburg. From _EffigiesDesiderii Erasmi Roterdami ... & Gilberti Cognati Nozereni_, Basle, Joh. Oporinus, 1533. XXVII. PORTRAIT MEDAL OF ERASMUS. By Quentin Metsys. 1519. London, British Museum. _Facing p. 206_ The reverse shows Erasmus's device, Terminus, and the motto _Concedonulli_, both of which were also engraved on his sealing ring. ForErasmus's own interpretation see his letter, pp. 246-8. The Greekinscription means, 'His writings will give you a better picture of him'. XXVIII. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS. After 1523. By Hans Holbein. Paris, Louvre. _Facing p. 207_ XXIX. THOMAS MORE AND HIS FAMILY. Pen and ink sketch by Hans Holbein, 1527. Basle, Öffentliche Kunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facing p. 238_ 'The portrait, probably commissioned on the occasion of the scholar'sfiftieth birthday, shows him surrounded by his large family. It is thefirst example of an intimate group portrait not of devotional orceremonial character painted this side of the Alps. At that time ThomasMore was living in his country house at Chelsea with his second wife, Alice, his father, his only son and his son's fiancée, three marrieddaughters, eleven grandchildren and a relative, Margaret Giggs. Theartist, who had been recommended to him by his friend Erasmus, was alsoenjoying his hospitality. ' (P. Ganz, op. Cit. , Cat. No. 175). The original painting is lost; a copy by Richard Locky, dated 1530, isat Nostell Priory. The drawing was sent by More to Erasmus at Basle soas to introduce his family, for which purpose the names and ages wereinscribed. In two letters to Sir Thomas and his daughter, dated 5 and 6September 1530, Erasmus sent his enthusiastic thanks: 'I cannot put intowords the deep pleasure I felt when the painter Holbein gave me thepicture of your whole family, which is so completely successful that Ishould scarcely be able to see you better if I were with you. ' (Allen, vol. 8, Nos. 2211-2). Compare also Erasmus's pen portrait of Sir Thomas More in his letter toHutten, pp. 231-9. XXX. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS. Charcoal drawing by Albrecht Dürer, dated1520. Paris, Louvre. _Facing p. 239_ Drawn at Antwerp, during Dürer's journey to the Netherlands. When hereceived the false news of the murder of Luther at Whitsuntide 1521, Dürer wrote in his diary: 'O Erasmus of Rotterdam, where art thou?Listen, thou Knight of Christ, ride out with the Lord Christ, defend thetruth and earn for thyself the martyr's crown!' XXXI. PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS. Engraving by Albrecht Dürer, dated 1526. _Facing p. 246_ In his _Diary of a Journey to the Netherlands_, Dürer noted in lateAugust 1520: 'I have taken Erasmus of Rotterdam's portrait once more', but he does not say when he took his first portrait. The earlier work isassumed to have been done one month before, and to be identical with thedrawing in the Louvre (Pl. XXX). This drawing is mentioned by Erasmushimself in a letter to Pirckheimer of 1525 (p. 240); in an earlierletter to the same friend (1522) he says that Dürer had started to painthim in 1520. The second portrait drawing is lost; hence it cannot beproved that this second portrait was made in metal point--as is usuallyassumed--and not in charcoal, or that the engraving here reproduced wasbased on it. XXXII. TERMINUS. Erasmus's device. Pen and ink drawing by Hans Holbein. Basle, Öffentliche Kunstsammlung (Print Room). _Facing p. 247_ _Frontispiece_: DECORATIVE PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS WITH HIS DEVICE, TERMINUS. Engraving by Hans Holbein, 1535. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS For help in the collection of illustrations we are specially indebted toM. Daniel van Damme, Curator of the Erasmus Museum at Anderlecht andauthor of the _Ephéméride illustrée de la Vie d'Erasme_, published in1936 on the occasion of the fourth centenary of Erasmus's death. Forphotographs and permission to reproduce we have to thank also the FrickCollection, New York (Pl. Iv), the Öffentliche Kunstsammlung, Basle (Pl. X-XI, XIV, XXV, XXIX, XXXII), the Library of Basle University (Pl. V-VI), and the Warburg Institute, University of London (Pl. Iii). Thephotographs for Pl. II, VII, XVIII-XX and XXVI are by M. Mauhin, Anderlecht, those for Plates VIII and XVII by Dr. F. Stoedtner, Düsseldorf, and that for Plate IX by Fiorentini, Venice. INDEX OF NAMES Adrian of Utrecht, Dean, later Pope, 55, 131, 162 Agricola, Rudolf, 7 Albert of Brandenburg, archbishop of Mayence, 140, 145 Aldus Manutius, 63, 64, 81, 207 Aleander, Hieronymus, 64, 124, 147, 149, 171, 184, 187 Alidosi, Francesco, 214n. Amerbach, Bonifacius, 176, 186, 223n. Amerbach, Johannes, 83, 90 Ammonius, Andrew, 37, 58, 67, 79, 80, 81, 83, 86, 90, 93, 94, 119, 123, 134 Andrelinus, Faustus, 21, 25, 26, 29, 47 Anna of Borselen, Lady of Veere, 27, 28, 35, 37, 38, 55, 62, 200-1 Asolani, Andrea, 64 Ath, Jean Briard of, 131, 133, 134, 135, 137, 229 Aurelius (Cornelius Gerard of Gouda), 11, 13, 14, 33, 44 Badius, Josse, 57, 60, 79, 81, 82, 83, 90, 133, 208, 219n. Balbi, Girolamo, 20 Barbaro, Ermolao, 21 Batt, James, 18, 19, 27, 28, 37, 38, 47, 48, 49, 55, 200 Beatus Rhenanus, 39, 64, 83, 96, 119, 156, 177, 184, 186, 187, 223 Becar, John, 181 Beda (Noel Bedier), 120, 125, 157, 158 Bembo, 173 Ber, Louis, 186, 253 Berckman, Francis, 82, 83 Bergen, Anthony of, 85, 202 Berquin, Louis de, 158 Berselius, Paschasius, 229 Blount, Charles, 249 Blount, William, Lord Mountjoy, 27-8, 30, 35, 36, 37, 58, 59n. , 67, 68, 79, 86, 87, 95, 184, 199, 215, 251 Boerio, Giovanni Battista, 60 Bombasius, Paul, 63 Bouts, Dirck, 3 Boys, Hector, 25 Brie, Germain de, 96 Bucer (Butzer), Martin, 177, 243 Budaeus, William, 94, 95, 96, 97, 119, 123, 124, 125, 126, 132, 153, 173, 219, 221 Busch, Hermann, 224 Busleiden, Francis of, archbishop of Besançon, 55, 135 Busleiden, Jerome, 135 Cajetanus, 141 Calvin, 165, 167, 182 Caminade, Augustine, 37, 47, 48, 155 Canossa, Count, 86 Capito, Wolfgang Fabricius, 96, 132, 140, 165, 166, 171, 218, 243 Catherine of Aragon, 168 Charles V, 92, 95, 99, 145-6, 218 Charnock, prior, 31 Cinicampius, _see_ Eschenfelder Clement VII, 184 Clyfton, tutor, 63 Cochleus, 241 Colet, John, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 56, 57, 58, 80, 81, 91, 92, 96, 104, 109, 141, 144, 154, 181, 200, 211, 215 Cop, William, 49, 61, 94, 219 Cornelius, _see_ Aurelius Cratander, 85 David of Burgundy, bishop of Utrecht, 16 Decanus, 224 Denk, Hans, 178 Dirks, Vincent, 137, 149, 157, 158 Dobeneck, John, _see_ Cochleus Dorp, Martin van, 77, 94, 126, 131, 133, 134 Dürer, Albrecht, 148-9, 240, 224n. Eck, Johannes, 98, 141 Egmond, Nicholas of (Egmondanus), 119, 133, 137, 148, 149, 158, 161 Egnatius, Baptista, 64 Episcopius, Nicholas, 186 Eppendorff, Henry of, 124, 159, 160, 243 Eschenfelder, Christopher, 186, 224 Étienne, _see_ Stephanus Faber, _see_ Lefèvre Farel, Guillaume, 166, 167 Ferdinand, archduke, 175 Ficino, Marsilio, 21 Filelfo, Francesco, 205 Fisher, John, bishop of Rochester, 58, 80, 92, 119, 181, 182, 214n. Fisher, Robert, 26, 27, 34, 199 Flaminius, John, 225 Foxe, Richard, 58, 59 Francis I, 94, 99, 144, 145, 218-19 Frederick of Saxony, 139, 143, 147 Froben, Johannes, 83, 83, 87, 89, 90, 91, 134, 143, 156, 170, 182, 221, 223n. , 243 Froben, Johannes Erasmius, 156, 183, 186 Fugger, Anthony, 176 Gaguin, Robert, 21, 24, 25, 26, 125 Gallinarius, 223 Gebwiler, 224 George of Saxony, 162 Gerard, Cornelius, _see_ Aurelius Gerard, Erasmus's father, 6 Gerbel, 224 Gigli, Silvestro, bishop of Worcester, 93 Gilles, Peter, 66, 86, 92, 94, 107, 119, 133, 184 Glareanus, Henri (Loriti), 96, 219, 251 Gourmont, Gilles, 79, 80, 82, 209n. Grey, Thomas, 23, 26 Grimani, Domenico, 66, 67n. , 68, 214 Grocyn, William, 34, 58, 200, 208 Groote, Geert 3 Grunnius, Lambertus, 93 Grynaeus, Simon, 249 Guibé, Robert, bishop of Nantes, 215n. Hegius, Alexander, 7 Henry of Bergen, bishop of Cambray, 16, 17, 25, 27, 35, 38, 47, 55 Henry VII, 58, 67, 251 Henry VIII, 30, 37, 67, 84, 99, 144, 145, 146, 162, 182, 218, 251 Hermans, William, 11, 13, 16, 18, 26, 28, 38, 44, 47, 49 Hermonymus, George, 204n. Holbein, Hans, 114, 121, 151, 232n. , 236n. Hollonius, Lambert, 156 Hoogstraten, Jacob, 145 Hutten, Ulrich von, 96, 118, 119, 125, 128-9, 140, 148, 159, 231 James IV, 66, 84 John of Trazegnies, 50n. Julius II, 58, 62, 84, 93, 152, 217 Karlstadt, Andreas, 141 Lachner, 221 Lang, John, 141, 142, 144 Langenfeld, John, 224 Lascaris, Johannes, 64 Lasco, Johannes a, 186 Latimer, William, 58, 208 Latomus, Bartholomew, 251 Latomus, James, 133, 135, 149 Laurin, Mark, 229 Lee, Edward, 119, 122, 128, 133, 134, 135, 145, 157 Lefèvre d'Étaples, Jacques, 21, 119, 120, 132, 133 Leo, Ambrose, 219 Leo X, 66, 93, 94, 134, 140, 144, 146, 215, 218 Leonicenus, Nicholas, 219 Linacre, Thomas, 34, 58, 200, 208, 219, 221 Longolius, Christopher, 172, 173 Loriti, _see_ Glareanus Loyola, Ignatius of, 189 Lupset, 221n. , 222 Luther, Martin, 54, 96, 120, 128, 131, 135, 138, 139-50, 159, 161-5, 177, 178, 179, 209, 229, 240, 244 Lypsius, Martin, 125, 134 Lyra, Nicholas of, 57 Maertensz, Dirck, 66, 90, 92, 134, 156 Manutius, _see_ Aldus Mary of Hungary, 168, 187 Maternus, 224 Matthias, 225 Maximilian, emperor, 84, 99, 141, 147, 176, 218, 219 Medici, Giovanni de', _see_ Leo X Melanchthon, 145, 152, 165, 178, 180, 231 Metsys, Quentin, 92, 240n. More, Thomas, 29, 30, 34, 35, 58, 69, 70, 92, 107, 119, 126, 127, 141, 146, 148, 153, 154, 182, 183, 200, 209, 221, 231-9, 252 Mountjoy, _see_ Blount Musurus, Marcus, 64 Mutianus, 165 Neuenahr, Hermann Count of, 225, 226 Northoff, brothers, 26, 27 Obrecht, Johannes, 62 Oecolampadius, 157, 166, 167, 168, 174, 175, 180 Osiander, 244 Pace, Richard, 159, 222 Paludanus, Johannes, 131 Paracelsus, Theophrastus, 242 Paul III, 184, 185, 253 Peter Gerard, Erasmus's brother, 5-10 Phileticus, Martin, 205n. Philip le Beau, 56, 59n. Philippi, John, 58 Pico della Mirandola, 21 Pio, Alberto, 77, 158, 167 Pirckheimer, Willibald, 95, 165, 184, 239 Platter, Thomas, 182 Politian, 205 Poncher, Étienne, 94, 96 Probst (Proost), James, 231n. Reuchlin, 90, 94, 128, 145 Reynolds, Richard, 252n. Riario, Raffaele, 67, 214n. Roger, _see_ Gerard Rombout, 8 Rudolfingen, 224 Ruell, John, 219 Sadolet, 93, 94, 164, 173, 177 Sapidus, Johannes, 98 Sasboud, 15 Sauvage, John le, 92 Scaliger, 173 Schürer, M. , 90, 209n. , 223n. , 224 Servatius Roger, 11, 12, 58, 59, 60, 62, 87, 93, 119, 197, 212 Sixtin, John, 31 Sluter, 3 Spalatinus, George, 139 Stadion, Christopher of, bishop of Augsburg, 182 Standonck, John, 21, 22, 38 Stephanus, Henricus, 223n. Stewart, Alexander, archbishop of St. Andrews, 66, 67, 84 Stewart, James, 198n. Stunica, _see_ Zuñiga Suderman, 226, 227 Synthen, Johannes, 7 Talesius, Quirin, 184, 193 Tapper, Ruurd, 137 Theodoric, 228 Thomas à Kempis, 4, 54 Tunstall, Cuthbert, 58, 96, 97, 132, 162, 208 Urswick, 221 Utenheim, Christopher of, bishop of Basle, 166, 173 Utenhove, Charles, 184, 193 Valdes, Alfonso, 246 Valla, Lorenzo, 27, 57, 58, 90 Varnbüler, Ulrich, 224 Veere, _see_ Anna of Borselen Vianen, William of, 137 Vincent, Augustine, 26 Vitrier, Jean, 50, 181 Vives, 161, 164 Voecht, Jacobus, 38 Warham, William, archbishop of Canterbury, 58, 59, 68, 81, 92, 95, 184, 204, 215 Watson, John, 98 Werner, Nicholas, 198, 216 William of Orange, 193 Wimpfeling, Jacob, 80, 166 Winckel, Peter, 8 Woerden, Cornelius of, 212 Wolsey, Cardinal, 31, 95, 137, 145, 215n. Ximenes, F. , archbishop of Toledo, 95, 130, 158, 218n. Zasius, Ulrich, 96, 153, 165, 187, 219 Zuñiga, Diego Lopez, 158 Zwingli, Ulrich, 96, 177, 179, 180, 244