Chapter VI: Part 6

In the German Empire order was first restored by Rodolph of Hapsburgh, who, notwithstanding his earldom of Alsace and his other hereditary demesnes in the Alps, had not yet so much power as many other aspirants to the imperial crown; but his chivalrous virtues ranked him high in the estimation of many of the princes. A happy and singular coincidence of accidental circumstances occasioned his unexpected election to the empire, which appeared to him, as to many others, a calling from above. Being on the most peaceful understanding with the Pope, he yet abandoned his expedition to Rome; for he was, above all things, anxious to put an end to anarchy, to establish the public tranquillity on a solid basis, and, as far as was then possible, to restore the reign of justice. The high services which by this he rendered to his country in those distracted times, History has not been backward to acknowledge; and, as the Patriarch of the imperial house of Hapsburgh, he has been the founder of a power which, in succeeding ages, has ever proved a pillar of strength and security to Germany and even Europe. But often again did anarchy rear her head, and often did disorder obtain the ascendant in Germany, as well as in other European states. Nations felt the want of one mighty, independent, and protecting power--they lamented the decline of those Christian principles which had knit so closely all the ties of public and private life; and they saw with regret the gradual approach of the general dissolution and mighty ruin of European society. Under Rodolph's successors, down to Maximilian and Charles the Fifth, the Emperors were confined in their sphere of action to Germany and its internal affairs, which do not here immediately concern us. The expeditions to Rome tended, indeed, to keep alive the remembrance of the old imperial rights and claims; but they were productive of no permanent advantage, nor real extension of power. It was only in the summoning of general councils (the want of which was soon so urgently felt for the well-being of the church and of Christendom), that the imperial power was really exerted in favour of the general interests of Europe.

But the evils which ensued to the church and its head, from its unhappy conflict with the temporal power, were far more extensive and fatal in their consequences. In the mighty contests between the Popes and Emperors, it was actual right which was the subject of dispute; and, in truth, the first basis and highest principle of all right in Christian states, and indeed in all human society; and however much of error the exaggerations of later times may have infused into these disputes, it was a sublime idea which animated either party. In France, which now took up that attitude of hostility towards the head of the church which the Emperors had once assumed, an entirely new era in European policy, which had now ceased to be Christian, commenced with the reign of Philip-le-bel. In the place of those great motives and lofty ideas which animated a Gregory VII., on the one hand, and a Conrad or Barbarossa, on the other, we meet with a vulgar policy, a selfish cupidity, and an unworthy cunning. In every point of view, Philip the Fair may be considered as the worthy predecessor of Louis XI. Even his conduct towards the whole order of Templars, their execution, or rather judicial murder, for the purpose of confiscation, was a deed of violence which nothing could justify; even had the suspicion entertained against the more corrupt portion of the order, of having introduced from the East certain unchristian tenets, rites and practices, been not entirely destitute of foundation. But yet this suspicion did not affect the whole body, nor even the then worthy grandmaster, as was shortly afterwards acknowledged by the King of Portugal and the Pope himself; and, in any case, an ecclesiastical affair of so much importance ought to have been investigated and determined by a mode of procedure very different from this arbitrary and despotic course.

The untimely exaggerations and absolute pretensions of Boniface VIII., which, though Papal, may almost be termed _Ghibelline_ (in the same sense that we have applied that term to the acts of preceding emperors), must have proved very welcome to Philip the Fair. He found in the conduct of the Pope, a pretext for enticing him into France, in order, on the first vacancy in the Holy See, to promote the election of a Pope favourable to his views, and fix him at Avignon. It was a deep-laid plan of policy on his part, to fix the residence of the Popes for ever within his territories, in order more easily to extort their consent to all his selfish projects, as in the case of the Templars; a policy by which the Popes, during seventy years, were kept in a state of absolute dependance on the court of France. And when at last one of the Popes succeeded in rescuing the chair of Peter from this Babylonish captivity, and placing it again at Rome, Popes were elected one against the other at Rome and Avignon; and a schism broke out in the church which lasted for forty years, till it was finally quelled by the general council of Constance. A deeper wound could not have been inflicted on Christianity than this division in the church, which led minds astray, and introduced an indescribable confusion in all the relations of public and private life. As, without the all-protecting and all-connecting authority of the first Christian Emperors, Europe in general, and Germany in particular, would much sooner have been split and dismembered, and been deprived of all power of permanent resistance against foreign aggression, and barbarian inroads; so, without the Papal power, which was founded on, and adapted for, unity, and which held together the fabric of the church, Christianity would very soon have been lost and extinguished in a multitude of particular sects, petty congregations, and opposite parties, even where totally dissimilar systems of religion did not spring up. The maintenance of orthodoxy in the Greek church, where the Patriarch does not possess the same spiritual power, nor the same extensive influence on society, as the Pope during the middle ages, cannot be fairly adduced as an objection to the truth of this observation. For it would be absurd to expect from the active, stirring, restless, and animated spirit of the Western nations, moving on as they did through a series of rapid, incessant, and progressive changes, that innate monotony of thought even in faith, which was natural to the dead, torpid Byzantine mind. When the Western church had been weakened and convulsed by the conflict with the secular power, the prejudicial and fatal effects of this contest became apparent in religion itself and the internal region of faith. At first, indeed, there arose a mighty moral power of resistance against the growing corruption and the impending evil--a great spiritual remedy, which sprang out of religion, and was perfectly conformable to its spirit. It was here again apparent how that strengthening Spirit of aid and counsel--that Paraclete promised to the church by its divine Founder, knows at every period, and on every new occurrence of danger, to employ the remedies the best and most fitting for the exigences of the time; remedies of which the high origin is clearly discernible, though in the hands of men they no longer retain their primitive character, and do not accomplish all the good they might have effected, or even become at last more and more perverted.

The great wealth of the church was not the sole, but one of the principal subjects of dispute with the secular power, and was even a stumbling-block to many, especially among the people. It was this wealth, indeed, which had furnished the means of cultivating and fertilizing the soil of Europe, and sowing the seeds of science on the soil of human intellect; for the existence of the clergy had been founded on landed property, and by this means they had become naturalized and domiciliated in the state, and among the nation; till the splendid endowments which they received from the liberality of religious zeal, made the abbots, bishops, and the whole of the higher clergy, wealthy lords, senators, and princes. This wealth and this power, the clergy, especially in the earlier times, generally employed in a manner the most praiseworthy, and the most conducive to the welfare of the community. The annals of modern Europe, and the history of every great and petty state within it, are full of the high political services which the excellent churchmen of the middle age rendered to the public weal. This was universally acknowledged, and any sudden separation of the higher clergy from the state--any degradation of that body from the exalted station which they occupied therein, would have been a most serious loss to society. In the contests of the emperors and other princes with the church and its head, the immediate and original object of dispute was not ecclesiastical property, which no one ever dreamed of attacking; but the jurisdiction over that property, and the acknowledgment of that jurisdiction. It is easy to conceive that all the members of the higher clergy had not rendered services equally eminent, and that the employment of their riches had not been equally laudable and blameless. But, independently of individual abuses and scandals, the great wealth of the dignified clergy, the eminent and splendid rank they occupied in the state and in society, were ever a stumbling-block to the people, and even to some ecclesiastics, and seemed in contradiction with the original rule and evangelical poverty of the primitive Christians. This was the first cause, the principal subject, and, as it were, the favourite text of that popular opposition which now, after the example had been set by princes and potentates, began to unfurl its banners against the church.

Nothing therefore could be better adapted to the exigences of the age than that, in opposition to the too great worldly pomp of many of the high though meritorious and virtuous dignitaries of that time, communities of men, animated by the sincerest piety, and the most austere spirit of humility and self-denial, should have arisen to make themselves all in all to the people, and set the example of perfect evangelical poverty; or to devote their undivided zeal to popular instruction and the office of preaching. Men of real sanctity, and the most humble piety, and gifted with wonderful powers, entered on this new path of religious zeal; and many amongst them, with a truly high-minded freedom, reprehended the abuses and the moral corruption then existing in church and state, and among all orders of society. They met with contradiction and opposition, and even at an early period incurred much blame; but here we must be careful to distinguish human infirmity and partial degeneracy from the holy origin of those establishments--from that spark of divine inspiration which called these, and all other ecclesiastical institutes, into existence. And thus that tide of popular opposition to the church, which had received its first impulse from the secular power, and the contests of the Ghibelline Emperors, rolled on with an ever increasing force, swell, and violence. Scarce had the Waldenses disappeared, when a religious sect still more numerous, the Albigenses--broke out in the South of France, and not content with displaying the usual popular opposition to the riches and real abuses of the church, broached many errors and doctrines of the Eastern sects, which during the Crusades may have found their way into that country. For this reason it was thought justifiable to proclaim against them a formal Crusade, and, by a most atrocious war of extermination, wherein the remedy appears no less reprehensible than the evil itself, princes put down this popular sect, which they regarded as rebellious not only against the church, but the state itself.

Wickliffe in England was the first single bold Reformer that appeared, and he was succeeded soon afterwards by an Innovator, whose enterprise was attended with far more important consequences--John Huss in Bohemia. Their writings, abounding not only in the wonted condemnation of real abuses, but in many fanciful doctrines, unfounded assertions, and germs of heresy, their cause as well as the general state of affairs, and the problem of the age, became more complicated and perilous.

John Huss was summoned before the council of Constance, which had terminated so successfully the schism in the Papacy; but there, without any regard to the imperial safe-conduct which he had received, he was condemned, and delivered over to capital punishment. As one injustice, one act of bloody severity, is sure to bring on another, a few years afterwards the Senators of Prague were precipitated from a window. This was the signal for a general rising of the people; Ziska, at the head of his infuriated troops, ravaged Bohemia, burst into the neighbouring provinces of Germany, and, with a Hussite army of seventy thousand men spread terror every where on his march. This insurrection was indeed suppressed, but Europe grew every day more and more ripe for a Revolution.

A new and pressing danger, which had been long foreseen, now threatened Europe from an opposite quarter. The Turks, who for almost a century had been in possession of the Northern provinces of the Byzantine Empire, became now masters of Constantinople, and the old church of St. Sophia was converted into a Mosque. That portion of Europe which stood in most immediate danger,--Germany, Austria, Hungary and Poland--was now compelled to make, for the space of more than two centuries, resistance to the progress of the Turkish power the object of its most assiduous attention; and this was a circumstance which tended to impede the emperors in all their other enterprises, to divert their efforts, and consume their best energies, and so far, in the then existing embarrassments in church and state, exerted a very fatal influence on the whole system of European society.

The immediate effects of the siege and fall of Constantinople were highly favourable to literature and science in the last half of the fifteenth century; when the Greek fugitives, by the rich and long-lost treasures of classical knowledge which they brought, created a new and brilliant era in letters and science; in Italy in the first instance, then in Germany (at that time so closely connected with Italy), and lastly in the rest of Europe. The knowledge of their classical tongue and ancient literature had never been totally extinguished among the Greek scholars and ecclesiastics; but in their hands this knowledge remained a mere dead treasure, which was only afterwards turned to profitable account, and to the service of society, by the more active spirit of the Europeans.

The better of the late Byzantine Emperors, particularly some of the Palæologi, had cultivated the sciences, and, by their love and encouragement of learning, had given a new life to literature. Even in the period immediately preceding the fall and conquest of Constantinople, many Greeks had taken refuge in Italy, particularly during the various attempts made to bring about the re-union of the Greek with the Roman church;--attempts, however, which with the exception of a small number of individuals who went over to the Catholic church, were not attended with any general success. In Italy the Greek fugitives established schools for their own language and literature, and founded libraries; and if in the time of Petrarch few Italians could be named that were conversant with that language and literature, (and among these zealous promoters of Greek learning, Boccaccio must be included with himself,) Florence now under the Medici, the first Cosmo, and Lorenzo the Great, became a flourishing seminary of Grecian letters and erudition; and at Rome also, the house of Cardinal Bessarion was a true Platonic academy of science. Even the study of the ancient Roman writers received a new stimulus, and was prosecuted with a more classical taste and spirit. Courtly literati, and Latin poets formed on the old classical models--political writers in the Latin tongue, which was still the language of diplomacy--statesmen and politicians of the greatest influence, trained up in the school of Greek and Roman history and politics--and polite dilettanti of Pagan antiquity,--all now gave the tone to this new and second epoch in the intellectual culture of Europe. But the ruling spirit and tone of the age proceeded mainly from the revival of the ancient literature and learning of the Greeks. Natural philosophy, whatever extension it may have received from the improvements in astronomy, and a more comprehensive knowledge of the globe obtained by the discovery of the New World, had not yet been wrought into a scientific form, capable of exerting, as it did afterwards, an effective influence on the European mind, or of giving it a new direction. In this period of the restoration of science, some individuals, like Picus Mirandola, and above all, the German Reuchlin, followed a Platonic track in search of a more profound philosophy; or, like Bessarion, Marsilius Ficinus and others, illustrated and diffused the philosophy of Plato. But these were partial exceptions, and these first attempts were not always faultless. Yet it must ever be a matter of regret that the beginning then made towards a better and more profound philosophy should have been left unfinished. To this the old scholastic philosophy was then a powerful obstacle, and the spirit of anarchy, which the religious contests of the following age called into existence, struck at the root of all lofty speculation; and even in the flourishing age of the Medici, it was the æsthetic part of ancient literature, and the political application of classical knowledge, which formed the main and almost exclusive object of pursuit.

Thus this regeneration, as it was called, was very imperfect and incomplete; and, in a general sense, was really not such;--even in science itself, the advantages which mankind had obtained, and which they were so eager to display, were more like a passing blossom, than a sound and vigorous root. Many of those classical spirits were more conversant and more at home in ancient Rome and Athens, in the manners, history, politics of antiquity, or even in its mythology (then investigated with peculiar fondness and enthusiasm), than in their own age, in the existing relations of society, or in the doctrines and principles of Christianity.

The prevailing character of this new epoch of intellectual cultivation, which succeeded to the scholastico-romantic period of European art and science, was by those modes of thinking and those modes of life, which, with more or less modification and variety, it diffused over all the European countries; at the best a very partial enthusiasm for Pagan antiquity, not merely in the department of art, but in the whole compass of literature, nay even in history, politics, and morals also. If we compare with the fearful commotions of the following age this classical enthusiasm, often so ill suited to the existing relations of society; its influence on the world will appear like an enchanting draught, which intoxicated for a while the European nations, drew them after objects totally foreign, made them forget themselves in an illusive consciousness of their intellectual refinement, and lulling them into a false security, blinded them to their own corruption, and the greatness of the impending danger--the yawning abyss on whose verge they then stood.

END OF LECTURE XIV.

LECTURE XV.

General observations on the Philosophy of History.--On the
corrupt state of society in the fifteenth century.--Origin of
Protestantism, and character of the times of the Reformation.

The Philosophy of History--that is to say, the right comprehension of its wonderful course, the solution and illustration of its mighty problems, and of the complex enigmas of humanity, and its destiny in the lapse of ages--is not to be found in isolated events, or detached historical facts, but in the principles of social progress. Historical particulars can only serve to characterize the inward motives, the prevailing opinions, the decisive moments, the critical points in the progress of human society; and thus place more vividly before our eyes the peculiar character of every age--each step of mankind in intellectual refinement and moral improvement. To this end, historical details are indispensable; for the ruling principles of social developement are of a more exalted kind, and not mere organic laws of nature, from which as in physiology, when the first principle of the disorder is well understood, we can accurately deduce and partly at least determine beforehand, the nature of the different phenomena and symptoms, the rule of health, the diagnostic of the disease, as well as the method of cure, the approach of the crisis, and its natural declension, without being obliged to go through the labyrinth of all the different cases that may have ever existed. Again, it is not in the history of man, as in natural history, where the structure of the various plants and animals forms by close analogy one connected system of species and genera; and where the growth, bloom, decay and extinction of individuals follow in an uniform order, like day and night, or like the change of the seasons. But in the sphere of human freedom; as man is a natural creature, but a natural creature endowed with free-will, that is to say, with the faculty of moral determination between the good or heavenly impulse, and the wicked or hostile principle; all these organic laws of nature form only the physical basis of his progress and history. And hardly do they form this--but rather a mere disposition of which the direction depends on man, or on the use he makes of his own freedom. It is only when that higher principle of man's free-will has been weakened, debased, obscured, extinguished, and utterly confounded, that those laws of nature can hold good in history. Then indeed the symptoms of a diseased age, the organic vices of a nation, the prognostics of a general crisis of the world may be determined to a certain extent with the precision of medical science. Though the general feelings of mankind clearly declare the soul to be endowed with the faculty of free-will; yet to reason, this freedom is an almost inextricable enigma, the solution of which must be furnished by faith. Or rather this is a mystery, of which the key and explanation must be sought for in God and his Revelation; and the same will apply to every higher principle, that transcends nature, and nature's laws.

Along with the principle of man's free-will which rises above necessity, that law of nature--there is another higher and divine principle in the historical progress of nations; and this is the visible guidance of an all-loving and all-ruling Providence displayed in the course of history, and the march of human destiny, whether in things great or small. But the power of evil is something more than a mere power of nature, and in comparison with this, it is a power of a higher and more spiritual kind. It is that power whose influence is not only felt in the sensual inclinations of nature, but which under the mask of a false liberty, unceasingly labours to rob man of his true freedom. Thus Providence is not a mere vague notion, a formula of belief, or a feeling of virtuous anticipation--a mere pious conjecture--but it is the real, effective, historical, redeeming power of God, which restores to man, and the whole human race their lost freedom, and with it the effectual power of good. The problem of human existence consists in this, that man in the great stage of history, as in the little details of private life, has to choose and determine between a true heavenly freedom, ever faithful and steadfast to God, and the false, rebellious freedom of a will separated from God. The mere licence of passion or of sensual appetite is no liberty, but a stern bondage under the yoke of nature. But as that false and criminal freedom is spiritual, so it is superior to nature; and it is strictly conformable to truth, to regard him as the first author of this false liberty, whom revelation represents as the mightiest, the most potent, and the most intellectual egotist among all created beings either in the visible or invisible world.

Without this freedom of choice innate in man or imparted to him,--this faculty of determining between the divine impulse and the suggestions of the spirit of evil, there would be no history, and without a faith in such a principle, there could be no Philosophy of History. If free-will were a mere psychological illusion; if consequently man were incapable of sentiment or deliberate action; if all in life were predetermined by necessity, and subject, like nature, to a blind, immutable destiny; in that case, what we call history, or the description of mankind, would merely constitute a branch of natural science. But such notions are utterly repugnant to the general belief and the most intimate feelings of mankind, according to which, it is precisely the conflict between the good or divine principle on the one hand, and the evil or adverse principle on the other, which forms the purport of human life and human history, from the beginning to the end of time. Without the idea of a God-head regulating the course of human destiny, of an all-ruling Providence, and the saving and redeeming power of God; the history of the world would be a labyrinth without an outlet--a confused pile of ages buried upon ages--a mighty tragedy without a right beginning, or a proper ending; and this melancholy and tragical impression is produced on our minds by several of the great ancient historians, particularly the profoundest of them all,--Tacitus, who towards the close of antiquity, glances so dark a retrospect upon the past.

But the greatest historical mystery--the deepest and most complicated enigma of the world, is the permission of evil on the part of God, which can find its explanation and solution only in the unfettered freedom of man, in the destination of the latter for a state of struggle, exposed to the influences of two contending powers, and which commences with the first earthly mission of Adam. This is nothing else but the real and entire exercise,--the divinely ordained trial of the faculty of freedom, imparted to the firstling of the new creation,--the image of God, in the conflict and the victory over temptation, and all hostile spirits. That man only who recognizes the permission of God given to evil in its at first inconceivably wide extent--the whole magnitude of the power permitted to the wicked principle, according to the inscrutable decrees of God, from the curse of Cain--and the sign of that curse--its unimpeded transmission through all the labyrinths of error, and truth grossly disfigured--through all the false religions of Heathenism,--all the ages of extreme moral corruption, and eternally repeated, and ever increasing crime, down to the period when the anti-christian principle--the spirit of evil shall usurp entire dominion of the world; when mankind sufficiently prepared, shall be summoned to the last decisive trial--the last great conflict with the enemy in all the fulness of his power:--that man only we say, is capable of understanding the great phenomena of universal history in their often strange and dark complexity, as far at least as human eye can penetrate into those hidden and mysterious ways of Providence. But he who regards every thing in humanity, and the progress of humanity, in a mere natural or rationalist point of view, and will explain everything by such views; who though perhaps not without a certain instinctive feeling of an all-ruling Providence--a certain pious deference for its secret ways and high designs, yet is devoid of a full knowledge of, and deep insight into, the conduct of Providence--he to whom the power of evil is not clear, evident, and fully intelligible; he will ever rest on the surface of events and historical facts, and satisfied with the outward appearance of things, neither comprehend the meaning of the whole, nor understand the import of any part. But the matter of greatest moment is to watch the Spirit of God, revealing itself in history, enlightening and directing the judgments of men, saving and conducting mankind, and even here below admonishing, judging and chastising nations and generations; to watch this Spirit in its progress through all ages, and discern the fiery marks and traces of its footsteps. This three-fold law of the world--these three mighty principles in the historical progress of mankind--the hidden ways of a Providence delivering and emancipating the human race--next the free-will of man, doomed to a decisive choice in the struggle of life, and every action and sentiment springing from that freedom--lastly the power permitted by God to the evil principle, cannot be deduced as things absolutely necessary, like the phenomena of nature, or the laws of human reason. Such a general deduction would by no means answer the object intended; but it is in the characteristic marks of particular events and historical facts, that the visible traces of invisible power and design, or of high and hidden wisdom must be sought for. And hence the Philosophy of History is not a theory standing apart and separated from history--but its results must be drawn out of the multitude of historical facts--from the faithful records of ages, and must spring up, as it were, of themselves, from bare observation. And here an unprejudiced mind will discern the motive, and also, the justification of the course we have pursued; for in the Philosophy of History, we have not to do with any system--any series of abstract notions, positions, and conclusions, as in the construction of a mere theory--but with the general principles only of historical investigation and historical judgment.

In the multitude, however, of historical phenomena, all things, especially in times of great party-conflicts, are of a mixed nature, where in the selection of characteristic traits, we should rather avoid than seek for any rude and violent contrasts. For while on the one hand, in any great historical contest, we are bound to recognize the full justice of the true cause, yet on the other, we shall often find some flaw--some stain--some weak point connected with that cause--not inherent in the cause itself, but chargeable solely on human infirmity. Or when we must condemn the Revolution of any period, as pernicious in its general relations, and reprehensible in itself, we shall often see some motive lie concealed in its origin--in its first proceedings, which taken in itself, and abstractedly of subsequent errors, and the false consequences thence deduced, comprises some important indications of right--some lofty aspirations after truth. Every general assertion must be restricted by exceptions, and qualified by various modifications; and as in historical events, so in historical narration and speculation, nothing is so hurtful and unprofitable as an absolute mode of reflection, enquiry, and decision. This remark we may apply by anticipation to the whole period of latter ages, and as inculcating the necessity of that conciliatory spirit, which true philosophy cannot fail of adopting for its rule. It is only when we have gone very deeply into the varied and complex nature of the circumstances of any age, and examined in their manifold bearings those historical phenomena which attend or produce the critical turning-points, the decisive eras of history, that we can clearly discover the spiritual elements--the great ideas which lie at the bottom of a mighty revolution in society. In every other abstract science, an exception from the rule appears a contradiction--but in the science of history, every real exception serves but the better to make us comprehend and judge the rest.

Such an exception I have now to point out in reference to my remarks on the intellectual progress of Europe, in those two epochs of its mental cultivation, one of which I designated as the scholastico-romantic era, the other as the era of enthusiasm for the Pagan antique; the former being inadequate to the wants of that age, as well as of posterity, and the other secretly destructive of the old Christian order of things. But on the whole, from the tone prevalent in either period, I do not know I could have otherwise characterized the spirit peculiar to those two epochs. Yet even in those periods, and in the sphere of philosophic and religious meditation, the spirit of Christianity showed itself independent of, and superior to the temper of the times; and between these opposite eras, we meet with works displaying a clear and beautiful simplicity of expression, united with the utmost purity and depth of ascetic feelings. Among several others, I need only cite the German Thomas a Kempis, whose most celebrated work has become a manual of devotion for all the European nations, while those who know the philosophic spirit which reigns in his other writings, can well recognize in this the same clear masterly mind, which throwing off the abstruse forms of the school, pours itself forth in a most lovely simplicity of diction.

I may be permitted to cite this glorious exception of a mind, that amid the degenerate science of that age, rose into the pure atmosphere of Christian philosophy, inasmuch as it serves to throw a light on the general spirit of the times. Had that mild light of moral truth and divine charity not been then so rare an exception; had that spirit of Christian morality been somewhat more widely diffused; the violent commotions in the following generation would not have occurred; for they would have had no motive, nor object, nor any possible source of existence. But in direct opposition to that pious Fleming, there was a great Italian writer, who gave the tone to the moral and political opinions of his age, and exerted the mightiest influence on his times, both as a moralist and as a politician. I allude to Machiavelli, who may serve as a proof, that the maxims and principles of Pagan antiquity, with which the scholars of that age were imbued, were not confined to the departments of art and of imagination, or of mere erudition, but had a very powerful influence on politics: and however much one may attempt to excuse, or explain away the design of one of his works,[7] still all his other political writings clearly and evidently shew that he was actuated by no other maxims of state-policy than the old Roman and Pagan principle, of grasping, inexorable, and selfish cunning. This writer announced only with greater clearness and precision what were already the prevailing principles of his times, and was thus the means of bringing those principles to fulness and maturity.

When the Christian bond of union between the European states and nations had been so completely dissevered, policy, together with all moral principle, became for the most part Pagan, came to consider all means as lawful for its ends, respected not the sacredness of any institution, and was guided in all its projects by selfishness, cupidity, or ambition. Animated with this spirit, and guided by these views, Lewis XI. consolidated the absolute authority of the crown in the interior of his dominions, with the same inflexible perseverance of character, and the same consummate political art, which in his endeavours to maintain his power against the Duke of Burgundy and other neighbours, characterized his foreign policy. In Ferdinand the Catholic, King of Spain, who permanently united the two kingdoms of Arragon and Castile, put an end to the Arab dominion by the conquest of Granada, and came into possession of the golden mines of America; the arbitrary principles of policy and of government, which were then so generally prevalent, are particularly perceptible. The barbarous persecution, and the expulsion of the Jews from Spain, was certainly prejudicial to the welfare of the country, was in itself an act of reprehensible severity, and was, above all, a dangerous precedent for the further extension and application of the same oppressive policy towards the Arabian population (still very numerous in many provinces of Spain), and towards the peaceable descendants of the old Mahomedan conquerors. From the contests carried on in Spain itself, with the Mahomedans for the space of eight centuries, a religious war almost entered into the system of national policy. The wisdom of a great and lenient monarch, like Charles the Fifth, might indeed mitigate the evils of the times, and as long as he lived, and as far as circumstances permitted, might oppose a check to the torrent of the new opinions in Germany. But with all his pacific endeavours he was unable either to prevent the rupture and separation of a part of Germany, or to stop the progress of arbitrary principles of government, which under his successor on the Spanish throne, became perfectly irresistible. The intermixture of political and ecclesiastical affairs and institutions existed more or less everywhere, and in truth had a deep historical foundation in the peculiar circumstances of place; and unless we deeply investigate all the particulars of those local circumstances, and accurately discriminate their several peculiarities, it would be difficult, and indeed rash to pronounce a general opinion respecting them--as so sweeping a judgment would give a false and erroneous turn to a censure apparently well-founded, and often just in itself. The Inquisition in Spain for instance, was from the very peculiar character which it took in that country, far more a political than an ecclesiastical institute. If the secular power had been guilty of arbitrary and violent encroachments on ecclesiastical jurisdiction, ecclesiastical power in its turn had from the spirit of the times become in many respects too secular.

When the Popes had returned to Rome from the captivity of Avignon, experience taught them how necessary to their dignity and independence was the possession of a sovereign principality, which however inconsiderable, should be at least free from foreign controul. Nay, since the German Empire had become really extinct, or existed only in name, it was the interest of the secular powers themselves, that the political authority of the Pope within the ecclesiastical states should rest on a firm and secure foundation, and should thus afford them a guarantee that the sovereign Pontiff would not again be in a state of exclusive dependance on any one of the different powers--divided as they now all were in interests, and animated by mutual jealousy. Without taking into account the personal scandals of Alexander VI., the mode in which some Popes, especially of the Borgia family, sought to consolidate their power within the ecclesiastical territory, must have appeared very revolting in the spiritual heads of Christendom. And although Julius II. possessed many great and princely qualities; still an injurious impression must have been produced on the public and popular mind, when the chief ecclesiastic, and a prince of peace girded on the sword, and put on the martial cuirass. The name of the Medicean Pope, Leo X., is one celebrated in the history of art and science, and serves to denote its most brilliant era; he possessed perhaps all the qualities most calculated to shed lustre round the throne of a secular monarch; but he was not the Pontiff to discern the fearful dangers and urgent necessities of the church in that age, to avert those dangers by his foresight, or to surmount them by conciliation.

A succession of such Pontiffs immediately prior to the breaking out of the Reformation, is of no slight historical importance. It would really appear as if the church were destined, by the losses it experienced, to learn the greatness of the danger to which its too worldly policy exposed it, and to be brought back by misfortune to its true, proper, and essential destination. Indeed at that time, the materials of political combustion were by no means wanting in Italy. Even in the absence of the Popes, a political fanatic, Rienzi, had excited a Revolution for the purpose of restoring the ancient Republic; and the internal feuds and civil wars of Florence were the effects of factions, almost inseparable from a state constituted like the Florentine Republic. In the last period of civil disorder, shortly after Lorenzo's death, a religious fanatic, the Dominican Savanarola--appeared at the head of a political Revolution; and his revolutionary principles were strangely mixed up with his religious tenets. Here evidently is a fact not undeserving of attention, if we would wish to form a right estimate of the state and circumstances of that age--it is that the very origin of this new species of fanaticism or heresy, and not its ulterior progress (as in the case of the Hussites,) was marked and accompanied by political commotions, and crimes against the state.

When that bond of religious unity--that high fellowship of Christian feeling which had united the various states of Christendom, was in a great measure dissolved, the different powers of Europe (as is usually the case among neighbouring independent nations, when directed by separate views of policy) the different powers of Europe engaged in a system of alliances subject to various fluctuations, but all formed on the principle of a mere dynamical equilibrium--just as if government and social power, even under the influence of Christianity, were nought but a mere material weight--a mere lever of physical force. Ever since the expedition of Charles VIII. into Italy had provoked resistance, and occasioned a re-action, the dominion of that country, for which Spain and France contended with all their might, was a peculiar subject of jealousy between those states, and gave rise to many wars. The other powers that took an active part in this game of political alliances--this system of the balance of power,--were Venice, the Emperor Maximilian, and the Pope. How very much an active participation in affairs of so worldly a nature was unbefitting the last-named potentate, I need not stop to observe. That conduct gave occasion afterwards to a great public scandal. For instance, when the Pope had formed an alliance with the King of France against Charles V.; and to resent this, the Emperor's German army (among whom were a great many entertaining the opinions of Luther), had proceeded to the conquest of Rome; this was a fresh and mighty source of scandal at that momentous epoch. Nay, the great dissatisfaction of the Emperor with the conduct of some Popes (though this referred merely to their political acts), when coupled with his conciliatory conduct towards the German Protestants, induced many to question the sincerity of his attachment to the Catholic faith. However false and unfounded such a surmise might be, still all things contributed to foster the belief, and on all sides there was a concurrence of circumstances to lead the public mind more and more astray.

The good and high-minded Emperor, Maximilian, who had meditated, and might have accomplished many other noble projects and important enterprises, was compelled to labour during his whole life, though in vain, to discover in the total absence of all physical resources, some counterpoise to the power of France, and some barrier and security against the encroachments of Turkish ambition. But when fortune had placed on the head of Charles V. the united crowns of Spain and Burgundy, the necessity of choosing an Emperor, who like those of earlier ages, might be capable of coping with all the dangers of the times, was universally felt; and this feeling led to the election of Charles. But for this choice, the system of European states would have fallen to pieces, and Christendom become a prey as well to foreign conquest as to internal anarchy. The mind of Charles was entirely occupied with the old idea of an universal Christian Empire, and a religious feeling was at the bottom of all his political schemes and enterprises. But whatever might be the extent of the countries over which he reigned, and whatever the apparent greatness of his power, yet amid the various designs he had to prosecute, and in the struggle he had to maintain against the combined array of so many hostile elements, he felt the want of those real resources which are to be found in a compact and well-united monarchy. To the Spanish crown he imparted great splendour, and even in Italy remained the master; but he met with very imperfect success in his efforts against Mohammedan power--a power from whose oppressions, and still further encroachments, it was the first duty of the Emperor, as the armed Protector of Christendom, to defend the European states. His conciliatory policy towards the German Protestants did not attain its object, for amid the general ferment of the age, the torrent of religious opinions bore down all before it. His wish to re-establish order in church and state by means of a general council, and thereby to consolidate anew the old foundations of faith, was fully accomplished only after his death.

In all that regards the origin and first breaking out of the Reformation, I wish to premise that all controversy on points of dogma, all controversy on the merits or demerits of individuals, the worthiness or unworthiness of persons, does not enter into the plan of this work. My object is particularly to describe the various manner in which the religious revolution commenced in the three or four countries over which it exerted the most remarkable influence; as well as the dissimilar form which it finally assumed in each of those countries. I wish particularly to trace the influence of the reformation on the progress of Christian states, and on European literature and science; two things which constitute the main subject of the last chapters of this Philosophy of History. But we must notice briefly, and as far as is necessary to the elucidation of the subject, the point of connection existing between persons and doctrines, and the historical event which alone is the subject of our enquiries. In the first place, it is evident of itself, that a man who accomplished so mighty a Revolution in the human mind, and in his age, could have been endowed with no common powers of intellect, and no ordinary strength of character. Even his writings display an astonishing boldness and energy of thought and language, united with a spirit of impetuous, passionate, and convulsive enthusiasm. The latter qualities are not indeed very compatible with a prudent, enlightened, and dispassionate judgment. The opinion as to the use which was made of those high powers of genius must of course vary with the religious principles of each individual; but the extent of those intellectual endowments themselves, and the strength and perseverance of character with which they were united, must be universally admitted. Many who did not adhere afterwards to the new opinions, still thought at the commencement of the Reformation, that Luther was the real man for his age, who had received a high vocation to accomplish the great work of regeneration, the strong necessity of which was then universally felt; for no well-thinking man then dreamed of a subversion of the ancient faith. If at this great distance of time, we pick out of the writings of this individual, many very harsh expressions, nay particular words, which are not only coarse, but absolutely gross, nothing of any moment can be proved or determined by such selections. Indeed the age in general, not only in Germany, but in other very highly civilized countries, was characterized by a certain coarseness in manners and language, and by a total absence of all excessive polish and over-refinement of character. But this coarseness would have been productive of no very destructive effects; for intelligent men well knew that the wounds of old abuses lay deep, and were ulcerated in their very roots; and no one was therefore shocked if the knife, destined to amputate abuses, cut somewhat deep. Luther acquired, too, the respect of princes, even of those opposed to him. Thus when shortly after the commencement of the Reformation, a general insurrection of peasants broke out, which renewed all the excesses of the Hussites; Luther so far from exciting the rebels, like some of the new Gospellers, opposed them with all the powers of his commanding eloquence, and all the weight of his high authority; for he was by no means in politics an advocate for democracy, like Zuinglius and Calvin, but he asserted the absolute power of princes, though he made his advocacy subservient to his own religious views and projects. It was by such conduct, and the influence which he thereby acquired, as well as by the sanction of the civil power, that the Reformation was promoted and consolidated. Without this, Protestantism would have sunk into the lawless anarchy which marked the proceedings of the Hussites, and to which the war of the peasants rapidly tended; and it would inevitably have been suppressed, like all the earlier popular commotions--for under the latter form, Protestantism may be said to have sprung up several centuries before. And besides, none of the other heads and leaders of the new religious party had the power, or were in a situation to uphold the Protestant religion--its present existence is solely and entirely the work and the deed of one man, unique in his way, and who holds unquestionably a conspicuous place in the history of the world. Much was staked on the soul of that man, and this was in every respect a mighty and critical moment in the annals of mankind, and the march of time. The real problem for the age would have been to terminate this unhappy confusion of doctrines, that is to say, that disorder and not unfrequent confusion in the relations of the ecclesiastical and civil powers, (occasioned by the general state of things in Europe, and by the circumstances which first promoted the political and intellectual civilization of the West)--in a word, to compose the old dispute between church and state, and bring it to a just Christian settlement by a peaceful and amicable arrangement. Then the many existing, though scattered, rays of true Christian piety, humility, and self-denial, as well as the new discoveries in science would have acquired a more intense and more extended power--an event which was now entirely prevented by a great civil war between two religious parties, and was not brought to a full accomplishment till a much later period. But the total rejection of the traditions of the past (and here was the capital vice and error of this Revolution), rendered the evil incurable, and even for Biblical learning and philology now so highly valued, the true key of interpretation, which sacred tradition alone can furnish, was irretrievably lost, as the sequel has but too well proved. And even if this were not the case, how could mere learned institutes of Biblical philology, united with popular schools of morality, constitute the spirit and essence of a religion? This is no where so fully understood, and so deeply felt, as in Protestant Germany at the present day--Germany, where lies the root of Protestantism, its mighty centre, its all-ruling spirit, its vital power, and its life-blood--Germany, where to supply the want of the true spirit of religion, a remedy is sought sometimes in the external forms of liturgy,[8] sometimes in the pompous apparatus of Biblical philology and research, destitute of the true key of interpretation[9]; sometimes in the empty philosophy of Rationalism, and sometimes in the mazes of a mere interior Pietism.