Ximenes; but the thought occurs to us that self-sacrifice is instinctive in us in all ages, creeds, and nations, as an expression of love for God, and that it is the lovers of sacrifice and not the lovers of delicate food and purple raiment who have accomplished whatever has been worth while in behalf of Christianity.

But it was not Christian scholars alone who had become interested in printing the Bible in its original tongues; for we see that the Jews also took advantage of the printing art to commit to cold and unvarying type the Hebrew text of the Old Testament. The first essay on their part was in 1477, but this embraced only a small portion of the Pentateuch. In 1488, however, they printed the entire text of all their received writings, and in a manner both thorough and creditable to their scholarship.

Hence we see that, contrary to the usual opinion, the ever-increasing attention which was being given to biblical studies was due entirely to the newly awakened desire for learning which had seized on the higher classes and which we call the Renaissance, and was not due to the Reformation, since Luther had not yet appeared on the scene. And to the printing-press must consequently be attributed this new interest. in biblical study which entered in and underlay all the translations of the Sacred Scriptures which illustrated the sixteenth century. It is also a very general impression that Luther first translated the Bible into any modern language, but this impression is ill founded; for we find translations of the Sacred Scriptures into German, French, Dutch, Italian, and Bohemian, and all these translations made by writers before the year 1500, some of them before he was born, and the latest of them while he was yet a boy at Eisenach. So the statement of Drummond that "those who were interested in religion cared very little for learning, while most of those who were interested in learning cared not at all for religion," will not bear the scrutiny of modern investigation.11

Drummond gives some amusing instances of the inaccuracies of Erasmus in his New Testament, many of them being real blunders. A perusal of the work shows this to be very true; but we do not think this a very serious charge to be made against him as he was only human and corrected most of them in succeeding editions. However, what we cannot acquit him of is that, while admitting his errors generally, he defended them individually to the bitter end, and, in doing this, often used language that was, to say the least, undignified. Another peculiarity of his in the matter was to gauge the asperity of his retorts by the standing and reputation for scholarship of his antagonist. Thus to Budé or Faber Stapulensis he was gentleness itself, but woe betide the man of lesser reputation such as Lee or Stunica; there was no arrow in his well-filled quiver sufficiently piercing for such men.

Had he been content to write his New Testament from a purely scholarly point of view, we had been content to judge it from that same point of view. It would have been easy for him to do this, and the work would then have redounded to his eternal honor; but he allowed his prejudices to overrule his judgment. This was his fatal error, for, 11Op. cit., Vol. I, p. 309.

in yielding to his hatred of monks and theologians, he recklessly removed his work from the domain of accurate scholarship where it properly belonged, to that of empty but angry polemics, where nothing but enmity was to be gained. And the wonder is, not that he made enemies by his attacks, but that there were left any of the monks or theologians who, for the sake of good scholarship, would forgive him his cutting aspersions on their class. But the number of such is surprising, when we take into account the littleness of human nature in general and the fact that Erasmus had no high rank either of birth, character, or station to warrant his assumption of the position of censor morum of his brethren. In the circumstances it was rash temerity on his part to anger them by flinging broadcast the epithets with which he loved to characterize them, and which hurt the more by reason of the modicum of truth they contained. It is true that there were ignorant monks; it is true there were badly equipped theologians; it is true there were followers of the scholastic philosophy who sometimes busied themselves with problems that were absurd and undignified; but all monks were not ignorant, all theologians were not uneducated, all followers of the scholastic system were not triflers, any more than all the lawyers, doctors, judges, preachers, teachers, and the various classes of men and women whom he caricatured in the Praise of Folly were the unnatural types he delighted to portray. If then Erasmus, not carelessly, but with set purpose, wounded the amour propre of such people by statements which were not only not true but were especially meant to wound, he could not rightly complain when they resented his ridicule with every possible means in their power. And now in the New Testament he had not only repeated the degrading and contemptuous epithets so noticeable in the Praise of Folly, but had furnished in this work a surer and more deadly weapon of offense; and at the same time that he had assailed them more publicly in his annotations to the New Testament, he laid himself open to their more or less justly aroused anger. In offering this great work to the world he had uncovered all his batteries and had shown those whom his indiscretion had alienated how to strike him in the most vital spot. The faults which he pointed out in the Vulgate, instead of serving some useful purpose, only created suspicion of his own orthodoxy, not because they held to a belief in the absolute inspiration of every word in the Latin Vulgate, as has often been charged, but because that version of the Scriptures had been accepted and reverenced as the official version of the Church for so many centuries. Thus the criticisms leveled against his version, while not perhaps always logical, were still very natural; for at a time when very few scholars could read Greek it need not surprise us that most men, whether of the clergy or the laity, preferred to cling to the version hallowed by time and consecrated by Church usage rather than to adopt the very first translation that might be offered to them. As a consequence, when they saw what they considered to be attacks on the integrity of the Bible made by this irreverent and iconoclastic Dutchman, they defended it with reason, and sometimes without reason, for to them it was a case of "fearing the Greeks bearing gifts."

This was not confined to the unlettered, whom Erasmus never deigned to notice, but chiefly excited the learned. The warning of Dorp had been in vain, and the first man who attacked his work on the New Testament was a dear friend, James Le Fèvre of Etaples, or, as he was better known to scholars, Faber Stapulensis. The friendship between them had been formed years before, while Erasmus was at Paris; and, although Faber was many years older than he, there subsisted a bond of friendship between them based on similarity of tastes, which made the younger man very tender of the feelings of Faber. It is possible that the reason for this lay in some sentimental association of ideas, for Faber, like himself, was of illegitimate birth, which had proved a bar to his preferment. France was quite as unjust and devoid of pity for these unfortunates as other nations, and no man could be promoted to benefices in the Church nor take a Doctor's degree in the University if he bore the bar sinister. On account of some connection, either of blood or patronage, Faber was much helped by the Briçonnet family, one member of which was William Briçonnet, Cardinal of St. Malo (Meaux), and another the Superior of the Benedictine monastery of St. Germain des Prés. Although not a monk himself he made his home in this monastery for many years, and from it issued most of his writings. He was a well-trained Latin and Greek scholar, having studied under some of the best teachers of Italy, and at the University of Paris. In his simple abode in the monastery of St. Germain he had delved into patristic literature, and in 1508 had issued his Psalterium quintuplex, followed in 1512 by his Commentary on the Epistles of St. Paul, and several similar works later on. Erasmus, who had differed from some of the views expressed by Faber in his work on the Scriptures, was much surprised to see the latter attack him with acerbity for the translation which Erasmus had made of the words 'Hλáttwors αὐτὸν βραχύ τι παρ' ἀγγέλους which occur in St. Paul, Hebrews, iii. 7. The Vulgate version of this is Minuisti eum paulóminus ab angelis, which Erasmus changed to Fecisti eum paululo inferiorem angelis. We need not go into the matter involved, but we feel that we should insert Erasmus' letter of appeal to Faber asking him not to force their differences to extremities, especially before a public which was perhaps not too friendly to either of them:

My dear James Faber, best and most learned of friends. Already in two letters I have evidenced to you how regretfully I regard the opportunity given to slanderers of gossiping about us. I plainly foresaw that this evil would ensue. But, because it was out of my power not to reply, I have chosen the lesser of two evils, as it seems to me. Now that only one remains, I implore you by Christian charity, by our common love for sacred studies, by the good reputation of us both, which, according to the laws of friendship, it is our duty to hold most dear, that for our mutual affection we apply a remedy to this evil as much as we are able, lest the fire spread insidiously far and wide. You perceive that men who are prone to evil seize eagerly on the causes of such dissensions everywhere.

There is hardly a social gathering in which there is not a dispute, here in favor of Faber as against Erasmus, there in favor of Erasmus as against Faber, and especially among such are are completely ignorant of the matter at issue. Various reports are spread around in your behalf, some declaring that you are getting ready some recriminations, others denying this on the ground that you do not consider Erasmus worthy of a reply. Again some say that you do not hold it against me for defending myself, while others say, on the contrary, that you blame my temerity. As far as I myself am concerned, I do not much care whether you reply or not, provided that you abstain from the sort of hateful remarks which are unbecoming to you when directed at a friend, and which are out of my power to disregard. Moreover, it is unpleasant that on our account dissensions should be sowed amongst Christians, and that those should exult in our differences to whom our studies are displeasing. I do not ask you to retract, although I have been assailed in many ways; but only to testify, by some sort of a letter, that you are differing with me only out of a zeal for ascertaining the truth, and that between ourselves there exists entire concord of hearts. If you are not agreeable to this, I would prefer you to make a reply rather than to exasperate both sides by your silence, provided that you adopt that moderation of utterance which is in accord with your old time custom. No man has ever heard me speak of Faber except lovingly and honorably; and I confess I was much surprised that you could write such things against me, and marveled what were the reasons that induced you to do so. As Christ is my witness I am speaking just as I feel. Farewell, best of men. Louvain, April 17, 1518.1

Such a letter does honor to Erasmus and manifests a truly Christian spirit. However, Faber did not respond in kind, but kept a profound silence which disturbed Erasmus more than ever.

He continued to make enemies for himself to the last day of his life, some wittingly, others unwittingly; but he never failed to express surprise and regret whenever they showed him their more or less just resentment. This is characteristic of many people of neurasthenic tendencies-to expect from others a tolerance of speech and act that they are by no means willing to render in return, and to demand a strict observance of the courtesies of life to which they themselves are unwilling to conform. Louis Ber, also a particular friend of Erasmus, did not hesitate to tell him that he did not need to inject such asperity into his replies and so-called apologies, in which advice Ber was seconded by Budé, who thought it lamentable that two such men as Erasmus and Faber Stapulensis should use a style of writing against each other that could only give joy to the unregenerate. By the efforts of Budé they were eventually reconciled; but the old cordiality never quite returned.

John Eck of Ingolstadt, a fine scholar and finished theologian, also objected to some of the conclusions that Erasmus had inserted in his 1a Eras. Ep. 814.

annotations, and wrote to him very courteously for a solution of his difficulties. Erasmus replied rather peevishly, and we can perceive that the reason for this was an access of his frequent suspicions of men and their motives. It appears from his letters that this was true of his feelings towards Eck, who, he thought, was prejudiced against him. It seems that one day in a company where Erasmus was present, Eck was speaking of a "certain learned man who in theology was a mere child." Erasmus immediately jumped to the conclusion that Eck was aiming at him, and assumed as a reason for Eck's remarks that Erasmus had not praised him sufficiently for his attainments. But Eck, who seems to have been a man of generous mind, wrote to Erasmus on hearing of the latter's amazing suspicion and assured him that, far from deeming him a child in theology, he always spoke of him as the most eloquent of theologians.

John Briard, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Louvain, perhaps better known by the title of Atensis, and one of those whom Erasmus thought to be behind Dorp in his criticism of the Praise of Folly, did not hesitate to appear in person as a critic of the New Testament in Erasmus' Latin version. They were very great friends hitherto, so much so that Erasmus, who was just then preparing for a second edition of the work, asked Briard his opinion of it. Now we have only Erasmus' side of the story and must regard what he says attentively, for men are at times self-deceived. He says that Briard read the first edition very closely and then assured him that he considered the work to be "pious, learned, and quite free from anything blameworthy." But, when the second edition appeared, Briard experienced a complete change of heart and proceeded to attack the work, an act which would certainly serve to stultify Briard's judgment, and does not seem plausible without explanations, which unfortunately are lacking. That he was not so unreasonable as this is shown by Erasmus' own action in the matter: for, instead of being angry, as he would have had good right to be under the circumstances, he was sufficiently convinced of the sincerity and good faith of Briard that he asked him specifically to name his objections. This Briard did, and suggested that Erasmus should make such explanations in future editions of the work as would remedy any scandal that might arise from what Briard had conceived to be indiscretions of statement or comment occurring in it. This Erasmus conceded, and so the incident was closed between them by a touching and sincere reconciliation brought about by their common friend Dorp. So strong was the reëstablished friendship that, when Erasmus was reported, some time after, to have brought back with him from Basle to Louvain the dreaded plague, and was in the utmost danger of death, Briard courageously went to visit him, bringing with him, we may assume, the spiritual consolation of the last rites of the Church. Shortly afterwards he himself died, and Erasmus expressed genuine regret.