with burnt offerings, and the smoke refused to ascend, perceiving therein the sure wrath of God, he despaired."

That is the fable, Sixtin, told over our cups, and composed then and there over our cups, and so much the result of those cups, if you will, that I desired to write it out for you in full; firstly, lest I should not write at all, and I know it is my turn to write, since I had received letters from you lately; and, in the second place, because I did not wish you to be left wholly ignorant of so elegant a feast. Farewell. Oxford, November, 1499."

17 Eras. Ep. 116.

17

CHAPTER X

ENGLAND: COLET

Everything points to the fact that Erasmus was never meant by nature to be a profound theologian, and that he himself recognized it. We have previously indicated that he had rather neglected his theological studies in the University of Paris, possibly due to the fact that he was obliged by necessity to do the work of a tutor in order to make a living, but also just as possibly because theology did not appeal to him as much as did pure literature. In no other way can we explain his failure to win his doctor's degree there when in his letters to Steyn this seemed ever to be put forward as the end and object of his student life in Paris. It is true that he was versed in all the subtleties of the schools, and could prove or disprove a thesis, rhetorically or syllogistically, with most of them; but to him that sort of contention seemed inane and valueless. He had not the deep faith, the religious feeling, the fine ardor, or the stern asceticism of Colet; yet the possession of these very attributes by Colet, so different from his own, was what powerfully attracted Erasmus towards him. Colet, too, had completed his courses in scholastic theology, and was probably better versed therein than was Erasmus; and this was perhaps part of the secret reason why the Dutch scholar held Colet in such high esteem, as a man who understood the skilful use of the scholastic method better possibly than he himself did. He deemed Colet a worthy opponent in every argument, and one with whom it was an honor to cross swords in any disputation. We would like to give an account of another of these discussions which happened between them, because they show so well the difference between the two men and the qualities they possessed in common; but the mere transcription of the debate would take up too much of the reader's time, in addition to the fact that he might find a disputation on the real meaning of the Savior when he uttered those memorable words in the garden of Gethsemane, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass away from me," too deeply theological to suit his taste. But, if one desires an example of the sort of subjects taken for debate in those days, he could hardly find in the entire range of theological knight-errantry a better one than this last, and one in which the opposing knights were of the ability and dexterity of Colet and Erasmus. The Dutch scholar could dazzle the Englishman by the brilliancy of his rhetoric and thus hide his lack of theological profundity; but Colet had in abundance what Erasmus lacked, namely, sincere convictions. Hence the latter was never successful in drawing Colet away from the principles and predilections of his matured mind. And to do Erasmus justice, we have no evidence that he ever tried to do so, for he himself testifies to the fact that Colet was "the vindicator and assertor of the ancient theology."

1 Eras. Ep. 116.

1

Let it suffice for the present to say that the more they exchanged ideas, sentiments, and opinions, the more each advanced in the other's estimation. It is a tribute to the attractive qualities of Erasmus' personality that the calm, cold, reserved Colet made him a direct offer to associate with him in the task which he had marked out for himself as his life's work. Since the reply of Erasmus to this noble invitation throws much further light on the characters of both, we will insert it here, regretting that Colet's letter to which this is the answer is not now to be found:

As much as you unmeritedly praised me in your last letter, most learned Colet, just so much do you blame me undeservedly in your present one. Yet shall I take your unmerited censure with considerably more equanimity than I received your equally unmerited praises. For when accused, not only can I free myself from blame, but in addition show that I was not at fault, since sometimes it seems to be characteristic of men who are hungering and greedy for praise ostentatiously to refuse it, not doing so naïvely so that they may not be praised, but rather that they may be praised oftener or more lavishly. You, I believe, wished to try me in both ways, as to whether I would be pleased when honored by the commendation of so great a man as you, and whether I would feel nettled at a slightly stinging rebuke. You must indeed be most unswerving in your affection, who are so careful, so cautious, so slow, and so circumspect in the selection of your friends. But I am only joking. For as I was glad to be even unmeritedly praised a little while ago by the most praised of men, so now I am glad to be admonished by the most sincere of friends. Therefore, hereafter, praise or blame your Erasmus as you will, provided I have a letter from you every day, than which nothing can be more acceptable.

But now for an answer to yours, lest the youth who brought it return to you empty-handed. Do you not feel exactly as I do, my Colet, when you say that you do not like this modern school of theologians, who spend all their lives in mere quibbling and fallacious cavilling? Not that I condemn their studies, for I approve of every kind of study; but when these are their sole studies, and not based on more ancient and polished literature, they seem to me calculated to make a man superficial and contentious, though others may possibly look upon him as being wise. For these studies, by a certain barren and crabbed subtlety, exhaust the mind, and neither quicken it with sap, nor animate it with the breath of life. And what is the worst of all, by the obscurity of their phraseology, and the clap-trap of their style, they denude of all her beauty that queen of the sciences, Theology, enriched and beautified by the lofty mode of expression of the ancient authors. Thus with thorns they entangle that study which was made so easy to us by the intellects of the early writers, confusing everything while, as they say, they are trying to explain it. And hence you behold her who was formerly most admirable and full of majesty, now almost mute,