spirit of independence was an event which in July 1485 disturbed the stagnation of the centre of theological orthodoxy-the Sorbonne. A certain Jean Laillier, priest and licentiate in theology, aspiring to the doctorate, prepared his thesis or "Sorbonique," in which he broached various propositions savouring strongly of extreme Lollardry. He denied the supremacy of the Pope, and indeed reduced the hierarchy to the level of simple priesthood; he rejected confession, absolution, and indulgences; he refused to acknowledge the authority of tradition and legends, and insisted that the fasts enjoined by the Church had no claim to observance. Celibacy was not likely to escape so audacious an inquirer, and accordingly among his postulates were three, declaring that a priest clandestinely married required no penitence; that the Eastern clergy committed no sin in marrying, nor would the priests of the Western Church if they were to follow that example; and that celibacy originated in 1073, in the decretals of Gregory VII., whose power to introduce the rule he more than questioned. The Sorbonne, as might be anticipated, refused the doctorate to so rank a heretic, and Laillier had the boldness not only to preach his doctrines publicly, but even to appeal to the Parlement for the purpose of forcing his admission to the Sorbonne. The Parlement referred the matter to the Bishop of Paris and to the Inquisitor. A long controversy followed, and it required the interposition of Innocent VIII. before Laillier could be punished and forced to recant.1 In Poland, too, there were symptoms of similar revolt against the established ordinances of the Church, as shown in a book published at Cracow in 1504, "De Matrimonia Sacerdotum."2

The corruption of the Church establishment, in fact, had

1 D'Argentré, I., II., 309 sqq.

2 Krasinski, Reformation in Poland, I. 110.

reached a point which the dawning enlightenment of the age could not much longer endure. The power which had been entrusted to it, when it was the only representative of culture and progress, had been devoted to selfish purposes, and had become the instrument of oppression in all the details of daily life. The immunity which had been serviceable through centuries of anarchy had become the shield of vices. The wealth so freely lavished upon it by the veneration of Christendom was wasted in excesses. All efforts at reformation from within had failed; all attempts at reformation from without had been successfully crushed and sternly punished. Intoxicated with centuries of domination, the muttered thunders of growing popular discontent were unheeded, while its corruptions were displayed before the people with more careless cynicism. There appeared to be no desire on the part of the majority of the clergy to make even a pretence of the virtue and piety on which were based their claims for reverence, while the laity were daily growing less reverent, were rising in intelligence, and were becoming more inclined to question where their fathers had been content to believe. Such a complication could have but one result.

CHAPTER XXV

THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY

THE opening of the sixteenth century witnessed an ominous breaking down of the landmarks of thought. The revival of letters, which was fast rendering learning the privilege of all men in place of the special province of the legal and clerical professions; the discovery of America, which destroyed reverence for primeval tradition, and accustomed men's minds to the idea that startling novelties might yet be truths; the invention of printing, which placed within the reach of all inquirers who had a tincture of education the sacred writings for investigation and interpretation, and enabled the thinker and the innovator at once to command an audience and disseminate his views in remote regions; the European wars, commencing with the Neapolitan conquest of Charles VIII., which brought the nations into closer contact with each other, and carried the seeds of culture, civilisation, and unbelief from Italy to the farthest Thule; all these causes, with others less notable, had been silently but effectually wearing out the remnants of that pious and unquestioning veneration which for ages had lain like a spell on the human mind.

In this bustling movement of politics and commerce, arts and arms, science and letters, religion could not expect to escape the spirit of universal inquiry. Even before opinion had advanced far enough to justify examination into doctrinal points and dogmas, there was a general readiness to regard the shortcomings of sacerdotalism, in the administration of its sacred trust, with a freedom of

criticism which could not long fail to destroy the respect for claims of irrefragable authority. The disposition to criticise the abuses of the ecclesiastical system, to note its shortcomings, and to apply remedial measures was general, and savoured little of the respect which the Church had for so many centuries inculcated as one of the first of Christian duties. Its past services were forgotten in present wrongs. Its pretensions had at one time enabled it to be the protector of the feeble and the sole defence of the helpless, but that time had passed. Settled institutions were fast replacing anarchy throughout Europe, and its all-pervading authority would no longer have been in place, even if exercised for the common benefit. When it was notorious, however, that the powers and immunities claimed by the Church were largely employed for evil rather than for good, their anachronism became too palpable, and their destruction was only a question of time.

Signs of the coming storm were not wanting. In 1510 a series of complaints against the tyranny and extortion of Rome was solemnly presented to the Emperor. The German churches, it was asserted, were confided by the successors of St. Peter to the care of those who were better fitted to be keepers of mules than pastors of men, and the Pope was significantly told that he should act more tenderly and kindly to his children of Teutonic race, lest there might arise a persecution against the priesthood, or a general defection from the Holy See, after the manner of the Hussites.1 The Emperor was warned, in his efforts to obtain the desired reform, not to incur the censures and enmity of the Pope, in terms which show that only the political effects of excommunication were dreaded, and that its spiritual thunders had lost their terrors. He was

1 Gravamina German. Nationis, No. VII.-Remed. contra Gravamina (Freher. et Struv. II. 677-8).

In the previous century some remonstrances against grievances had been uttered, but in a very different tone from this.

further cautioned against the prelates in general, and the mendicant friars in particular, in a manner denoting how little reverence was left for them in the popular mind, and how thoroughly the whole ecclesiastical system had become a burden and reproach, and no longer an integral part of every man's life and the great motive power of Christendom.1

It was evident that the age was rapidly outstripping the Church, and that the latter, to maintain its influence and position, must conform to the necessities of progress and enlightenment. On previous occasions it had done so, and had, with marvellous tact and readiness, adapted itself to the exigencies of the situation in the long series of vicissitudes which had ended by placing it supreme over Europe. But centuries of almost uninterrupted prosperity had hardened it. The corruption which attends upon wealth had rendered wealth a necessity, and that wealth could only be had by perpetuating and increasing the abuses which caused ominous murmurs of discontent in those nations not hardy enough to set limits to the authority of the Holy See. The Church had lost its suppleness, and was immovable. A reform such as was demanded, while increasing its influence over the souls of men, would have deprived it of control over their purses; reform meant poverty. The sumpter-mule loaded with gold, wrung from the humble pittance of the Westphalian peasant, under pretext of prosecuting the war against the infidel, would no longer cross the Alps to stimulate with its treasure the mighty genius of Michael Angelo, or the fascinating tenderness of Raphael; to provide princely revenues for the bastards of a pope, or to pay mercenaries who were to win them cities and lordships; to fill the antechamber of a cardinal with

VOL. II,

1 Avisamenta ad Cæsar. Majest. (Ibid. p. 680).

с