deceive the public with miracles worked by magic, with fictitious piety, with pretended pardons, or similar juggleries. I hope therefore that you will read him not only with some little profit, but also with the greatest of pleasure, for the reason that you, your Lordship, in addition to the reputation of your race, the splendor of your fortune, and the dignity of your office, are a complete master in the grave and the serious sort of studies; nevertheless, on account of the extreme jocundity of your heart and the marvelous suavity of your disposition, you are not averse to these more elegant Muses, but willingly mingle such profitable trifles as these with your more arduous studies. As for the matter of wit, whether of the bitter sort which they ascribe to Momus, or the more kindly flavor which they attribute to Mercury, you will find every kind most copiously in this fellow Lucian.

It is impossible for me to express how sorry I am at the burning of so magnificent and renowned a cathedral as that of Chartres as a result of being struck by lightning. Farewell. Paris, August (init.), 1506.

Thus early can we detect the nature of his admiration for Lucian, as for a man who was greatly daring and who did not hesitate to point out the glaring defects, not of religion, but of those who were selected to dispense its benefits to the multitude. Whether Lucian accomplished the aim he had in view in writing his satires is uncertain; what success Erasmus had in a similar endeavor remains to be pointed out in its proper place.

His Italian journey was delayed from time to time, and it was at least two months before he was ready to leave Paris. It would seem that he was engaged during this interval in seeing his translations from Euripides and Lucian through the press of Badius, and in giving the finishing touches to a new edition of his Adages, which appeared in the following December, after his arrival in Italy. He must have had a peculiar regard for this work, for it was by it that he first won his reputation for learning and research, not only among the circle of his friends, but, more important by far, among scholars everywhere. The first edition which had appeared in 1500 contained 818 adages culled from the Latin and Greek languages and adorned with quaint and illuminating comments by Erasmus himself. While he was in England on his recent visit, his old publisher, J. Philippe, had issued a second edition (1505) which evidently did not please him, for on arriving in Paris he proceeded to engage Josse Badius, another printer and native Brabantian, to bring out a further edition, which hence is the third. This Erasmus amplified with twenty additional adages, and so is explained part of the delay in Paris before he proceeded to Italy. We might state here incidentally that in spite of his utmost care to safeguard his right to the profits which might accrue to him from his writings, at a time when such a thing as copyright was undreamed of, two pirated editions of his Adages were issued almost under his very eyes, one 14 Ibid., 199.

by Dion. Roce, which appeared in Paris in this very year, and one by Nicolas de Pratis, very early in the next year. The booksellers had been robbing him of the fruits of his labors while he had been visiting in England, and when he reached Paris he was confronted with a collection of his epigrams which had just been printed and published by J. Barbier, on March 18, 1506, under the title of Varia Epigrammata. He immediately engaged Badius to get out a newer and better edition, the printing of which he himself supervised, and the work was issued on January 8, 1507, shortly after his arrival in Italy. This was probably early enough to forestall still another edition of this work which was issued from the press of Nic. de Pratis in this same year. He also revised and prepared for the press another edition of his Panegyric. So we may readily imagine that, though the pirate printers may have robbed him of his serenity, they did not paralyze his industry.

All this period of delay was very annoying to him, for he was living in momentary dread that the sword of Damocles, which Steyn seemed ever to be holding over him, would drop at last and cut off his hopes of liberty to go to Italy, or wherever else his interest lay. We already know that the principal object which his superiors at Steyn had in view in permitting him to absent himself from the monastery in order to attend the lectures at the University of Paris, was to have him take the degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology, an honor which would redound not only to his credit, but also to that of the community at Steyn. This is expressly stated in some of his letters and implied in others which we have already quoted.15 But, after deciding to make literature the work of his life, which he did very noticeably after leaving the College of Montaigu, he seemed to make little or no effort to win a degree at the University of Paris. On the contrary, his desire and fixed intention were to take it at the University of Bologna, whenever he should make his long-desired journey to Italy, at least that is what he told his superiors at Steyn as we learn from William Herman's letter to Servatius as far back as 1499. And we remember that a few months after that time, when writing to the Lady of Veere, he said:

16

I feel for some time past that two things are necessary for me: first, that I should visit Italy in order that the little learning I possess may acquire some prestige from the celebrity of that country; and, second, that I may dub myself Doctor, both of which things are foolish.1

17

Erasmus may or may not have meant this to be taken at its full value, but if he did, then we must agree with Feugère that he did not have the courage of his convictions.1

18

Now, we glean from all this that lack of money was one reason for his not having taken his degree hitherto; but it was not the only reason

15

See Ibid., 48, 77.

16 Ibid., 92.

17 Ibid., 145.

18 Malgré tout, il est des préjugés que ne brave pas ouvertement dans sa conduite celui même qui les raille dans ses discours." (Etude sur Erasme, p. 28.)

by far. We realize now that the taking of his degree, during any of these years from 1496 onwards, would have meant his return to the community at Steyn and the resumption of his monastic obligations just where he had laid them down when he was permitted to take service as secretary to the Bishop of Cambrai. Although the fees attendant on taking degrees in the University of Paris were undoubtedly heavy, yet we feel that some stronger and more cogent cause than mere lack of money must have actuated him, such an accomplished borrower, in following out what was certainly a masterly Fabian policy. And what more potent reason than the one we have just given? Who that knows anything of the fierce and intense hatred that he nursed in his breast all his days against the monastic life in general can doubt that he would take any means, have recourse to any plan, which would prevent his being brought back to what in his estimation, and as it related to him personally, was only perpetual isolation? We have the subconscious feeling that he had all these years been biding his time until he had secured such fame and standing that he could make a strike for personal freedom from the trammels in which his vow had placed him. So he used the taking of the degree as a measure of security. As long as he did not take it, he was saved from a return to the monastery within certain limits; but once he had taken it, there was no longer any reason he could offer to the authorities at Steyn which would be sufficiently potent to save him from a speedy and permanent resumption of his monastic duties. Hence he played the University of Bologna against the University of Paris. There might perhaps be advanced another reason why he did not take his degree in the University of Paris, namely, that he might have made enemies for himself in the Faculty of Theology by his biting remarks on Scholastic Theology as taught there, or by some equally imprudent remarks, either written or spoken, at which the learned theologians of the University might have taken umbrage. And no one knew any better than Erasmus that, if such a body as the examiners of that institution desired to flesh a grudge against him, they had here a splendid opportunity to do so. While all these reasons may have had a share in causing him to defer taking the degree, the present writer is convinced that the fear of being recalled to Steyn was the controlling motive.

After the visit to his brethren in 1501, he had gone back to Paris ostensibly for his final year, but the next time the community at Steyn heard of him was when he wrote to them from England, telling them of all the fine friends he had met, and what they had offered to do for him. After getting back to Paris, instead of going to work to win the degree, he started publishing books like the Adages, which presumably made the authorities at Steyn open their eyes in astonishment that their errant brother was grown so great in the learned world, and gave them pause as to what course was best to pursue concerning him. But, before they could come to a decisive conclusion, he disarmed any possible displeasure they might feel against him by establishing himself at the neighboring University of Louvain. We may suppose that now their minds were at rest for the time being, but they were not permitted to

be so for long, for the very next news they had of him was that he was again in England, as we have already related. From there he wrote them that he was much appreciated by the British, but that worldly honors do not attract him, and that since now he has acquired a sufficiency of Greek he will devote himself in earnest to the affairs of his soul. But he did not say that he would return to the monastery. On the contrary, when next Prior Servatius heard from him, he was in Italy.

CHAPTER XVII

VISIT TO ITALY: THE DOCTOR'S DEGREE

But at last he was ready to start; so stopping on the road to visit an old friend, Nicholas Beraud, at Orléans, he proceeded to Lyons, where he enjoyed himself very well indeed, if the first part of his colloquy Diuersoria was at all prompted by the remembrance thereof-which is more than probable. Thence he traveled through Savoy, and took the Mount Cenis Pass over the Alps, which brought him nearest to his destination, viz., Turin, fifty-four miles away over the Italian border, and there he and his party halted. He tells a rather amazing story of a quarrel which occurred between two members of his party while crossing the Alps. We find the story in the catalogue of his works given to John Botzheim and we at once recognize therein the true literary instinct which knew how to enliven a dry collection of titles with interesting anecdote and personal relation.

While passing over the Alps during my journey to Italy, I wrote a poem on Old Age, dedicated to William Cop. There fell out a disgusting quarrel between the dispatch bearer of the King of England, who was accompanying us as far as Bologna for our protection, and the governor of the youths whom I was inveigled, by a contract like a snare, into conducting into Italy, not indeed as their pedagogue, for I had declined to attend to their conduct, nor as their preceptor, but that I might at the proper time look over their courses of study, unluckily for myself, alas, for never did I spend a year more unpleasantly. To such a heat did the quarrel rise between these two fellows that from furious invectives they came to drawn swords, and for myself I was angry with both of them equally. But when I saw them afterwards over their cups, the best of friends after such a tempest, I despised them both alike. For as I consider men must be insane who would thus rage unless terribly exasperated, so I deem no reliance could be placed on those who would become friends so quickly after such dire anger. So in order to relieve the tedium of riding, cutting loose from all converse with both parties, I wrote this poem, jotting it down from time to time on paper spread over my saddlebags, so that I might lose none of it while excogitating the rest. From my notes I copied it out at length just as it is, when we arrived at an inn. So you have my equestrian or rather my Alpestrian poem, which some learned men declare to be not entirely devoid of merit, whatever was its origin.1

After this fashion they crossed the Alps and finally arrived at the prosperous and friendly city of Turin, the object of their journey being 1 Eras. Ep. I, p. 4, 1. 8.