CHAPTER XXVI

TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS TO BASLE: FURTHER CORRESPONDENCE

After parting with Mountjoy at Hammes Castle, he pursued his journey by St. Omer, where he called on his old friend the Abbot of St. Bertin; thence towards Ghent, on the road to which town he had an attack of lumbago, an account of which he sends back to Mountjoy:

Hail, best of Maecenases. I have just spent two days with the Abbot, and we passed the time very pleasantly. He dismissed me with a present, and made me further promises most affectionately. So when everything was going well, behold, that instant Fortune abandoned me, and taught me that no reliance must be placed on a continuance of her favors. Scarcely had I left a certain inn, which lies about half way between Roulers and Ghent, when my horse shied at some white clothes which were spread on the grass, and while I was bent over to say something to my servant the animal bounded in the opposite direction, and so twisted the end of my spine that I was immediately compelled to cry out, so intolerable was the pain. I tried to dismount, but I could not; so my servant placed me on the ground by allowing me to lean on him, while the pain continued atrociously, especially if I bent over. I suffered less when erect, but I could not straighten up when once I had assumed a bent posture. There I was in the open country, with no inn to go to but one which was most cold and uninviting, and I was six long miles from Ghent. I felt the pain less in walking, and yet it was too long a journey for even a sound man to accomplish on foot. Imagine my state of mind. I made a vow to St. Paul to finish my commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, if I could only get out of this fix. A little while after this, I was driven in desperation to try whether or not I could mount my horse, and succeeded beyond my expectation; I amble slowly, and find I can bear it; I order the servant to go a little more quickly, and still stand it well, but not entirely without pain. Well, I reach Ghent, dismount, and get to my room; but thereupon the pain starts all over again, especially after the lull. I cannot stand except when supported on either side in an erect position, and firmly; for, if I bend over to the slightest degree, then that intolerable pain returns. Nor could I sit up, and when lying down I could not move at all. I send for the doctor and apothecary. I was so done up in every way that I thought of nothing but death. In the morning, while preparing to relieve nature, I try to get out of bed, and am successful; I stand, I move, I sit, and without

assistance. I give thanks to God and St. Paul. There remains still a slight soreness, particularly if I twist myself. So I stayed at Ghent for a few days at the entreaty of my friends, and being persuaded thereto by the soreness, from which I am not yet free. Whatever it was, it was no common ailment.

I met here the President of Flanders, who is a most accomplished person in every kind of learning; and also two members of the Council, Anthony Clava and William de Waele, for I knew De Keysere and some of the others previously. From here I go to Antwerp, if my bodily condition will permit; but wherever I am I shall let you know about my health..

At Bergen I paid my respects to the Prince of Veere and his mother; but I found the former much preoccupied, for his wife was very sick in childbed, and the news from Zeeland was very disquieting. I also saluted him on your behalf, and reminded him of your kindnesses towards his subjects. I arrived in Basle on the day after the Assumption [August 15].' Germany has received me with such honors that it almost makes me blush to speak of them. Now, shut in with the German stoves, I attend to the publishing of my trifles, hurrying no less in this than Caesar did in storming the Venetians. I shall hasten my return as much as possible. God grant that I shall see you all in safety again. Basle, August 30, 1514.*

He has described above his attack of lumbago, a local form of muscular rheumatism, with classical accuracy; and, it is, as he says, a very painful affection. He stood physical discomforts but poorly, and was always in terror of death. We have already seen how the plague held such real terrors for him that he would fly almost to the ends of the earth to get out of reach of contagion, and to accomplish this would hesitate at no monetary sacrifice. So, when he made his vow to St. Paul for assistance in his attack of lumbago, it was sincerely meant. Drummond seems to doubt his sincerity in making this vow, but we have not the slightest hesitation in saying that he meant it from the bottom of his heart, so great was his fear, and in this was only reflecting the faith of his contemporaries in the Communion of Saints as an accepted article of Catholic belief. Seebohm reminds us that Queen Katherine and Sir Arthur Plantagenet had both made the pilgrimage to the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham within the last two years of these very events, the Queen in thanksgiving for her victory over the Scots, and the knight in order to fulfil a vow made when he was in danger of shipwreck."

Every man and woman in those days had the liveliest confidence in the active interposition of the saints in their behalf; and if we emphasize the fact here, it is not to invite controversy, but simply to exhibit

'He really said the day after the Annunciation, but this is clearly a lapse of memory, and I agree with Allen and Drummond in assigning his arrival to the day after the Feast of the Assumption.

2 Eras. Ep. 301.

Oxford Reformers, p. 272.

this phase of Erasmus' character, which in this respect did not differ from that of his neighbors.

And now we must take up his early correspondence with John Reuchlin, to whom we adverted on a previous page. Reuchlin was, like Erasmus, a humanist, but, besides perfecting himself in Latin and Greek, when he was about thirty-eight years old he had become interested in the study of Hebrew, which was a branch of learning that had not up to that time attracted much attention from scholars. He had made the acquaintance of Jacob Jehiel Loens, a learned Jew, who was court physician to Friedrich III, and from him had gained considerable knowledge of the language, which he vastly increased during a whole year's stay in Rome, where he put himself under the tuition of the most accurate Jewish scholars there to be found. His great progress emboldened him to publish in 1506 a Hebrew grammar, from which event may be dated the scientific study of Hebrew in Germany. In 1509 he met a converted Jew named Pfefferkorn, and from that time, and during many years, he was immersed in trials and tribulations which were brought on him by this man. Converts to any religion, if sincere, are generally more zealous and earnest in forwarding the interests of their new faith than are those who have received the same faith as an inheritance from their parents. This was probably the motive by which Pfefferkorn was actuated, rather than by any really malignant desire to hurt Reuchlin. The facts of the case were these. Pfefferkorn had obtained from the Emperor Maximilian I an order compelling all Jews in the Empire to give up their books to be examined by him, and empowering him to burn all such books as to him might seem inimical to Christianity. The undertaking was so vast that Pfefferkorn had to seek help for himself in the affair, and sought Reuchlin's assistance along with that of others. Now Reuchlin sought to avoid this, as he was not in entire sympathy with the proceeding; but he was eventually involved in it by receiving an order from the Emperor to present a memoir on the question of burning the books in question. He wrote the memoir, which was far from pleasing to Pfefferkorn, since Reuchlin openly declared such a measure to be absurd, and so advised the Emperor. Pfefferkorn inserted Reuchlin's pamphlet in a work of his own called the Handspiegel, where he poured out the most bitter and acrid invectives on both Reuchlin and his pamphlet. Reuchlin became irritated in turn, and answered this with his work entitled the Augenspiegel, in which he handled Pfefferkorn without gloves. Then the University of Cologne took a hand in the affair and appointed a committee from its theological faculty to examine the orthodoxy of Reuchlin's Augenspiegel, under the leadership of the Dominican inquisitor Hoogstraaten, who soon espoused the side of Pfefferkorn. This committee found what they considered to be forty-three dangerous propositions in the Augenspiegel, upon which Hoogstraaten became Reuchlin's accuser. Reuchlin appealed to the Pope, who thereupon appointed the Bishop of Spires to hear both sides and render judgment. The Bishop associated with himself several grave and learned men to form a court of trial, and after mature deliberation fully acquitted Reuchlin and sentenced Hoogstraaten to pay the costs of court, which

amounted to one hundred and eleven gulden. But this was not the end of the matter, for Hoogstraaten also appealed to the Pope, who then formed another court to sit under the presidency of Archbishop Benignus di Salviatis; this court also gave Reuchlin an entire acquittal on July 2, 1516. At the time when Erasmus arrived in Basle, which was in August, 1514, Reuchlin had just won his first verdict over Hoogstraaten; and it was for this reason that Erasmus wrote him as follows:

Your letter, together with the verdict of acquittal by the Bishop of Spires, reached me while I was in England. I have shared its contents with a few learned friends, all of whom admire your happy and fertile genius. They enjoyed it very much, and have earnestly requested to see the condemned book, concluding that the thing must have been most excellent to displease such men as it has. Among these friends of mine are the Bishop of Rochester, a man of remarkable integrity of life and a most finished theologian, and John Colet, Dean of St. Paul's at London. I had a slight doubt that you might have written something without due reflection, because I observed that the verdict of the Bishop [of Spires] was somewhat cautiously and timidly worded in alluding to "open heresy," and "in addition to the treatise," until having obtained your book at Mainz I read those passages which are "heretical, impious, and lacking in reverence," and then I could not restrain my laughter. But after I had read your finely written denunciation [of Hoogstraaten] I also gave you the verdict, and this in place of an apology on my part, and I all the more wished that it could fall into the hands of every educated man. Moreover, just as soon as I had read your defense, written with such readiness, such confidence, such a storm of eloquence, such acumen, and such a varied richness of learning, at once I seemed to be listening, not to a defendant pleading for himself, but to a victor triumphing over his scattered enemies. One thing alone, my Capnio, I could have wished for, to speak candidly and as a friend, that is, that you had been more sparing of your digressions into those commonplaces, or at least, that you had dwelt on them less, and that you had abstained more from open abuse. But if the former is a fault, it is a fault of a man overflowing with erudition and love of literature; and as for the latter, it is difficult for me to prescribe a limit for another man's vexation. You will be doing a most agreeable thing if you see to it that your pamphlet shall be dispatched to England, either to John, Bishop of Rochester, or to John Colet, Dean of St. Paul's. I also will send thither my own copy if I am able, although it is my only one.

I have written annotations on the whole of the New Testament. It is also my intention to see to the printing of the New Testament in Greek, with my own annotations added. They say that you have an eminently correct copy of this [New Testament in Greek], and if you would lend it to John Froben you will do a favor not only to him and to me, but also to all the studious. Your copy,

intact and unstained, will be returned to you. Farewell, and write again.

To the letter which you sent me to England I have replied, but whether you received it or not I know not. I shall await a letter from you. Again farewell, the sole honor and incomparable ornament of entire Germany. I was greatly desirous of speaking with you personally, but as far as I can see it will not be possible, since I proceed hence to Italy about the 13th of September, unless something new turns up in the meantime. Again and again farewell. Basle, August, 1514.*

Later on he had the opportunity of meeting and speaking with Reuchlin, and of this interview we shall give an account in its place. His passage through the towns of Germany was almost in the nature of an ovation, so much honor was shown him. After he had visited Strassburg the following letter was sent after him by Jacob Wimpfeling, in the name of the Strassburg Literary Society:

Sometimes the bundles and packages are piled on to a more than usually stupid beast of burden, and so the Literary Society of Strassburg have placed on me, a worn-out veteran, the task of sending to you in the name of everyone our kind regards and our good wishes for your health, and to ask that you will write to us soon that we may know how you are. We are led to believe that you have been kindly received by the University of Basle, and that you are being honored there as the most learned among the learned. We hope especially that in such a philosophic company Beatus Rhenanus, who loves, honors, and respects you on his own account, will deny you nothing which can add to your happiness. Our entire Literary Society commends itself to you, and offers itself most ready at your service. Sebastian Brant, Jacob Sturm, Thomas Rapp, Thomas Vogler, Mathias Schürer, John of Rudolfingen, Stephen Tieler, Peter Heldung, John Guida, Jerome Gebuler, John Ruser, Othmar, and all the others whose names would take too long to mention here, also wish to be remembered to you, and this list includes myself particularly. Farewell. Strassburg, September 1, 1514.

Ulric Zasius, a Councilor of the Empire and a distinguished professor of jurisprudence, wrote to him in this manner:

Humbly commends himself. Some time ago I would have seemed to myself bold indeed to have written these few lines to you, great Roterodamus, for the exceeding majesty of your divine erudition was so present to my vision that I did not dare to do so. For since I am not initiated into any accuracy of learning, why should I pollute your more hallowed shrine by any rashness of mine? But, made more confident by the persuasion of that noble young man Boniface, who never ceases to praise your kindness, I have dedicated to you these rustic trifles of mine, praying only, not that you will add Eras. Ep. 300. Ibid., 302.