CHAPTER XXIII

ENGLAND: AT CAMBRIDGE: CORRESPONDENCE WITH COLET

As we have seen, Erasmus returned to England from Italy about the early part of the autumn of 1509, and lodged for a short time with his friend Thomas More in the latter's house at Bucklersbury. In the absence of all letters to or from him for almost the whole of the next two years, we are left entirely in the dark as to his movements and activities. It would appear, however, that he and his friend Andreas Ammonius, of whom we have previously made mention, went into hired lodgings, and to some extent Erasmus thereby realized the dream of his youth, which was to live together with some choice literary spirit with whom he might share his thoughts and aspirations. Batt was to have filled that enviable relation towards him, but the early death of that faithful and self-sacrificing friend frustrated the plan. In Ammonius he seems to have found another Batt; and that they lived together in mutually helpful relationship is testified to by Ammonius in his letter to Erasmus, when the latter was in Paris subsequently, in which he informs him that because the fact of their living together had become so well known, everybody came to him to learn the news and the whereabouts of Erasmus.' It is very probable that Ammonius owed his position as Latin secretary of Lord Mountjoy to the favor and recommendation of Erasmus, exerted for him previous to the latter's leaving for his journey to Italy. In any case, their interests seem to have been mutual and their friendship lasting. It was at this exact moment, while he was waiting for his books and other impedimenta which he had taken with him on his trip, and which had not yet been delivered to him, that he began the Praise of Folly, which he states he finished in a week. Some rough draft certainly he wrote and read to his friends assembled in More's house; but that he wrote the work just as we now have it in that short time is not credible. It does not bear the marks of hasty composition, and is moreover filled with the most recondite allusions of every kind, the verification of which alone would consume more time than he alleges the whole work took. Moreover, he was suffering from a complication of bladder trouble and seasickness; and, while we might properly expect that such a condition of health might easily be reflected in the matter of the work, it surely would not lend itself to such wonderful celerity in its composition. It seems more probable that it was a leisurely task which he had set himself, and that it was done in the intervals which he could snatch from attendance on his numerous friends and benefactors. His Italian journey had without doubt exhausted his funds, and we may safely Eras. Ep. 221.

assume that his sole business for the present was to replenish his purse. For this purpose he had perforce to pay court to his former patrons, Mountjoy, Archbishop Warham, Bishop Fisher, More, and Colet. Mountjoy never failed him, but perhaps he was willing that others should share the burden. And it was no small burden, for, though Erasmus was not a sybarite, yet he loved his comfort, and required and even insisted on the best service and attendance. Mountjoy had told him in a letter which he had received while still in Italy, that Archbishop Warham had promised him a benefice if he returned to England. Now he had returned and was anxiously looking forward to the fulfilment of that promise. But benefices did not fall out every day, and so he was obliged to wait for that event. His hopes of assistance from the Bishop of Rochester were also flattering but, unfortunately, not immediate. The Bishop was, in his office of Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, endeavoring at the instance of Lady Margaret Tudor to establish some professorships of divinity there, one of which he had offered to Erasmus. But this was not available for some time to come, and meanwhile he must live. Whether they severally and singly gave him small gifts from time to time, or whether Ammonius for a period defrayed the expenses of their common household, we are unable to ascertain, but it is possible that he was tided over this critical time in both these ways. Aid from the new king failed to materialize entirely, for the reason probably that Henry had much more serious things to think about on his accession to the throne than subsidizing literary men, be they ever so scholarly. Such leisure as Erasmus could command from these necessary pursuits we may be sure that he put to good use. The present writer feels that it was during the period of anxious waiting for something to fall out that he really began his work on the translation of the New Testament. He was again in touch with Colet and under the influence of his earnest and zealous spirituality. To Colet he was a man of tremendous literary energy, which he was frittering away in trifles like the Praise of Folly; and we look in vain for one commendatory word from him for that inauspicious work. Colet did not then have much time to devote to Erasmus, for he was engaged in the task of establishing his new school at St. Paul's, to the founding of which he had devoted his life and fortune. Such a wonderful example of loving devotion to the education of youth as Colet was then furnishing to the world could not fail to be observed by Erasmus; and to his knowledge of the aims and motives of Colet we owe the thoughtful and discriminating sketch of him which he afterwards published in connection with a similar essay on Vitrarius. His companionship with Ammonius must have been delightful. Here was a man who could write and speak Latin and Greek as well as himself, and who had refined and literary instincts. Like the rest of us, he had felt in his youth the divine afflatus and had succumbed to the extent of writing some verses of considerable merit, which he had no desire to conceal from a world that he felt was anxious to see and enjoy them. Erasmus, too, had not yet mustered up courage sufficient to commit his Praise of Folly to cold type; but at

last he went to Paris, his manuscript in one pocket and the poems of Ammonius in the other, with the fixed intention of securing a publisher for each. While waiting at Dover to get passage across the Channel, he visited Mountjoy and showed him Ammonius' poems, informing him of their impending publication and of the author's desire to dedicate them to himself. Mountjoy read the dedication and, finding it too fulsome, pruned its extravagance considerably, to such an extent indeed that Erasmus advised Ammonius to write a new preface. This was done and the work was eventually printed by Jodocus Badius. This suggests a question. Why did not Badius also print the Praise of Folly? Could it be that he thought it unfit and unworthy of Erasmus? Badius himself was a voluminous writer and a man of great literary ability. Trithemius, as quoted by De Burigni, assures us that Badius was a writer of rare merit, equally well versed in belles-lettres and the sacred writings, and that he was also a philosopher, orator, and poet, besides being famous for his wit and eloquence. Even Erasmus had such regard for his ability that he once drew a parallel between him and Budé, probably the greatest scholar that France at that time possessed. Badius, like Dorp, was a fellow-countryman of Erasmus, and doubtless counseled him against anything that might imperil his hitherto well-merited reputation. But if he did, it availed not, for the Praise of Folly was brought out by a rival printer."

While in Paris on this business, Erasmus wrote two letters to his friend Ammonius, in one of which he especially wished to have his kind regards conveyed to Thomas Ruthall, at this time Bishop of Durham and secretary to Henry VIII. Whether or not he was already receiving help from Ruthall, this bishop, by virtue of his position with the king, was certainly a man of great influence, and hence to be cultivated. These two letters from Paris are the only signs of life we have from Erasmus from his arrival in England in the autumn of 1509 until April, 1511. On his regaining England again after his expedition to Paris for the printing of the Praise of Folly and the poems of Ammonius, he made for London, where he fell sick of the sweating sickness, as the pest was then called, and narrowly escaped dying. Indeed, a rumor of his death had spread far and wide and had even reached the ears of Bombace at Bologna. But he recovered, and when next we hear of him he is installed at Queen's College, Cambridge, probably on the invitation of Bishop Fisher, who was still Chancellor, though no longer President, of Queen's. From there he wrote a letter, half whimsical, half serious, to Colet, telling him about his trip and what he was now doing.

If my misfortunes could move you to laughter, dear Colet, there is plenty for you to laugh at. In addition to what happened to 'We must agree with Allen rather than with Nichols in assuming that it was Badius and not Croke that Ammonius meant by the term zoλuypάpov; and by τὸ συμβόλαιον οὐδαμῶς τηρεῖν παράγγελλε at the end of his letter to Erasmus, it seems to me that he meant to convey, "Tell him not to be anxious at all about his reimbursement"-in view of the fact that Badius was publishing Ammonius' book of poems. (See Eras. Ep. 221.)

me in London, my servant's horse went dead lame, for the hostler had swapped the animal that Bullock had sent me; besides which, we could find nothing to eat anywhere along the way. On the following day it rained continually till dinner time; after dinner it lightened, thundered, and hailed, and three times that horse fell head foremost. Bullock said that he perceived Jove was angry. Things please me here now, for I behold the appearances of Christian poverty. I do not expect any salary at all, since I understand that here merely what I may be able to drag out of my patrons will be lavished on me.

There is here a doctor, a countryman of my own, who accomplishes marvelous things by means of a quintessence, making young men out of the aged, and living men from the dead. Hence there is some hope that I may regain my youth, providing that I can only taste a drop of the quintessence, in which event, I will not regret entirely my coming here. But of financial return I see not a trace; for how can I get money out of those who have it not, being honest but unlucky? Farewell, best of preceptors. When I have begun to play the professor, I will inform you how the thing goes, so that you may have more to laugh at. Queen's College, Cambridge, St. Bartholomew's Day.

Perhaps I will attempt your St. Paul. Behold the audacity of your Erasmus. Again farewell. 1511.*

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The following day he wrote to his friend Ammonius, telling him that he had not given the students much of a taste of his quality, for the reason that he had not yet quite recovered from his illness. Incidentally he begs him to send him a cask of Greek wine, as the Cambridge beer did not agree with him, nor were its wines much better. In the following month he replied to a letter of Colet's which has not come down to us, but the contents of which his answer makes clear:

I have not yet met anyone who would be a suitable teacher for your school, but I will continue to inquire and, as soon as I shall find one, I will inform you. . . . I am making a little fight in your behalf with the Thomists and Scotists who are here; but of this I will tell you when I see you. I have begun to translate Basil on Isaiah, and the work pleases me greatly. I will show a little of it to the Bishop of Rochester, and thus find out if he wishes to sweeten my labors with a little present. Oh, this begging! I know you are laughing at me. And indeed I hate myself; and the end of the matter will be that I must either fall into some good fortune which will relieve me from this pitiful begging, or I must henceforward imitate Diogenes. . . . Farewell. If you have any money in hand entrusted to you for charitable purposes, pray, send a few nobles to Richard Croke, a former servant and pupil of Grocyn, who is now studying classical literature at Paris. He is a youth of good prospects, on whom a favor will be well bestowed, unless Eras. Ep. 225.

my judgment misleads me. Again farewell, my dearest preceptor. Cambridge, 1511.*

To this letter Colet made rather a curious answer, hinting broadly that to a man so badly off as Erasmus, the position of teacher in the new St. Paul's school would be a good thing for the school at least.

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Why shall I not approve? thus you write. What is there of Erasmus that I do not approve? I read your letter on the subject of study somewhat hastily, since I was too busy to read it carefully. In the reading of it not only do I approve of it all, but I admire your genius, your art, your skill, your copiousness, and your eloquence. I have often wished that the boys of my school were instructed in this manner, just as you have described it. Often, too, have I wished that our teachers were such as you have so wisely depicted. When I came to that place at the end of your letter, where you insist that you could bring our youth to a fair speaking knowledge of both languages in less time than these smatterers of ours can bring them to a stammering utterance of them, oh, Erasmus, how I then wished that you were a teacher in my school. But I have some hope that you will bring us some assistance even in the matter of instructing our teachers when you return from those Cambridge friends of yours. . . . You will do well, I think, and be acting for your own best interests, if you imitate Diogenes, and, taking pleasure in poverty, consider yourself the king of kings. Perhaps by your despising money, both money and good luck will follow you. Among Christian men the world follows those who shun it. Whence come the wealth and riches of the Church if not from shunning them? But I am aware such paradoxes are not pleasing to you.

I am surprised at your writing to me about Richard Croke. What have I to do with other people's money? Why should you suspect or imagine that I have moneys in hand entrusted to me in any way? I do not stand by the bedsides of people about to die, nor flatter rich widows. I do not meddle with rich men's wills, nor seek the friendship of the wealthy. I do not praise their ill deeds, nor bid them to obtain pardon for their sins by placing sums of money at my disposal. Believe me, in this country, a man who is not of that sort will not easily obtain money to be disposed of in charity. I handle only my own money, and what I do with that, you know. But I am smiling at your innate simplicity, Erasmus, and at the same time charmed that, in this odious begging habit of yours, you have pleaded the cause of others rather than your own. The sum and substance of the matter is, that, though I have no money belonging to other people to bestow on strangers, yet if you will beg humbly, I have some of my own means to share with you, and if you beg for it without shame, my poverty will assist your poverty in a most moderate way. Farewell, and I pray you write to me often. London, September, 1511.*