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It may be well supposed this haughty man cared little about reestablishing the Council. One day, as the French Cardinal du Bellay warmly insisted upon it, as being the sole means of remedying the disorders of the Church, "A pretty farce is this!" responded Paul, " to send into the mountains sixty bishops and forty doctors, and to imagine that those people are going to reform the world! And I, the vicar of Jesus Christ, and all my cardinals, those pillars of Chris tianity, and the prelates and celebrated doctors who abound in Rome, are we, I pray you, of no better avail than all that can be got together at Trent?”

During these stormy scenes, the Lutherans, who "And that with this foot!" he added, striking it had been the occasion of the Council, constantly re-violently upon the ground. fused to repair thither. They remembered the fate of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, and would not depart for Trent unless furnished with safe-conducts furnished by the council, and endorsed by the emperor. Meanwhile the dissensions between Charles the Fifth and the Lutherans, and the report of the plague, broke up the assembly, which did not reassemble until three years afterwards. When, at length, the Reformers had obtained the safe-conduct required, they repaired to Trent, but were so put off and adjourned, that it was only upon the formal demand of the emperor that they were at length allowed to present in person the articles of their belief. But upon the very first hearing, great was the scandal in the assembly. On all sides arose outcries against the temerity of these men, who came to impose a faith instead of receiving one. The legates especially had the greatest difficulty in restraining themselves. The mere presence of these dissidents seemed to them an insult to the papacy. It was necessary to disgust or frighten them away, no matter how; and on the 7th February, the Jacobin Pelargue, the organ of the Romish Church, preaching in one of the churches of Trent, exclaimed in a tone of menace-" That heretics alone were the cause of schism, and that it was time to extirpate heresy at a single stroke.”

Every day the irritation of the Catholics increased, and in spite of their safe-conducts, these advocates of the Augsburg Confession, these captains of heresy, would no doubt have been roughly handled, had not the irruption of Maurice of Saxony into the Tyrol, with the flight of Charles the Fifth before this chief of the German Protestants, once more put the entire Council to the rout. The fathers hardly took time to draw up a decree of suspension, and to anathematize that malice of the enemy of mankind, which had occasioned them so grievous an inconvenience. The inconvenience in truth was grievous, and the retreat of the fathers so precipitate, that many of them, unable to embark on the Adige, fled into the mountains, leaving their baggage behind — which, for the rest, was not of a very apostolical description. Paul IV. had succeeded Julius III., and the intercouncil was prolonged during all his pontificate. Raised from a Theatine monk to the popedom, this man, naturally obstinate, but hitherto humble in his conduct, had yielded to the intoxication of power. The day after his elevation, his steward having asked him how he desired to be served-" Like a king," was the reply. Amidst all his magnificence, he ceased not to declaim against the unbridled luxury and debauchery of the cardinals and prelates who surrounded him; prime causes, as he declared, of all the evils of Christendom. "You want to reform others," he exclaimed, when a general reformation was alluded to; "Physicians, heal yourselves!" In full consistory, and before the ambassadors, he often repeated that he would brook no potentate in Europe as his fellow, but would march over the heads of all of them.

And as Du Bellay insisted, he cut him short with, il Enough! enough! I had rather set Europe on fire by the four corners, and lose my life into the bargain, than I would yield thus basely."

In fact, Paul IV., tyrant of Rome, was in a fair way to trouble the whole world, and had already kindled a terrible war in Italy, when he died, recommending to the cardinals, as the sole means of saving the Church, not a Council, but the Inquisition. Pius IV., his successor, carried away by the sort of reaction which followed this rigorous regimen, decided, however, not for the Inquisition, but for the Council. This time the peril was immense, and in this closing session we must especially admire the resources of Italian policy, and the address of the papist party. In principles, it had against it the Emperor and the Kings of Spain and France; it held firm against all, and thanks to the skill of its tactics, had contrived by the end of the session, and without having yielded any point of importance, to carry the whole of its adversaries along with it. Nevertheless, at the opening of the session, each of these parties, more numerous and determined than ever, had, whilst proclaiming themselves zealous Catholics, declared against Rome in the most decided manner. On the one hand, the Germans proposed a sort of Reformation in twenty articles, the most important of which required singleness of benefices, obligation of residence for bishops, communion in the two kinds, and the mar riage of priests. The Emperor expected no durable peace in his dominions until these religious difficulties were settled. The Spaniards warmly supported the Germans, and the French insisted no less positively for a species of reformation still more complete than that demanded by the Germans, and what was yet more, upon the absolute maintenance of the liberties of the Gallican Church.

For it should be here remarked, such was the progress of reform, that whilst combating against it out of doors, within the Council itself its declared enemies were obliged to contend in its favour. The papal court alone stood firm, and while the other powers, pressed by the Reformers, sought by making important concessions to satisfy and regain the latter, Rome always resisted, and proclaimed her immutable resolution never to compromise with heresy.

This so-called heresy, it is true, attacked the dearest

pretensions of the Romish court. In fact, were not what were called abuses among the firmest supports of the pontifical throne? How could they then be touched without threatening to undermine its very foundations? To declare that bishops were instituted by divine right was to abdicate the papal supremacy, and set up against the head of the Church as many rivals of equal power as there were bishops in Europe. To abolish the privileges of the monks, was to deprive itself of a body of zealous auxiliaries: feudatories who, holding immediately from the Holy Father, prevented the bishops from being so many popes in their respective dioceses. Lastly, to allow the marriage of priests, was to renounce its hierarchical supremacy, and break the political tie which bound to the pope the clergy of the whole of Europe. The other refusals of Rome had motives equally obvious, and it was with the view of triumphing over her, and carrying by force what could not be obtained by negotiation, that the court of France decided upon making a last and vigorous effort.

She despatched to Trent the famous Cardinal de Lorraine, Arnaud de Ferrier, one of the friends of the Chancellor de l'Hôpital, and like him an enlightened advocate of toleration, with fourteen of his most devoted prelates. The Cardinal of Lorraine, a man of lofty ambition, was at that time one of the most considerable personages of France. The lover of Diana of Poitiers, and of Catherine de' Medicis, under Henry II. he had introduced himself into court, under Francis II. had been first minister, and under Charles IX. his influence had even increased. Possessed of great learning, naturally eloquent, and proud of his recent struggle with Theodore de Beza, he was ambitious of a wider theatre upon which to display his abilities. He repaired therefore to the Council. At the news of the cardinal's arrival, the pope and his legates were seized with consternation. They knew well his haughtiness, and were alarmed at his temerity. Apparently a persecutor of heretics, was he not at bottom imbued with the new doctrines, and had he not more than once, among friends, half approved even of the Confession of Augsburg? Did he not look upon himself as invested with a species of Apostolate, and did he not delight in hearing himself called by his partisans the pope of France? All this the Italians well knew, and looked but for little reserve at his hands. Awaking therefore from their | temporary panic, they bravely prepared themselves for the encounter.

of neutralizing the influence of the new comers, by sending to Trent the second rank of the Italian bishops, and as the receiver is usually of the opinion of the giver-it was thought that certain pensions bestowed upon a number of poor and doubtful prelates, by putting them more at their ease, would render them also proportionably tractable. The lukewarm were spirited up, the timid threatened, the ambitious received large promises, and all, even to the very buffoons themselves, were put into requisition by the legate Simonetta, who directed their movements.

These Italian prelates, for the most part men of wit and vivacity, and considering themselves as the brilliant and polished portion of the council, affected a contemptuous and coxcombical tone with regard to the ultra-montane bishops, a species of savages but little careful of their persons, who spoke a rude and barbarous language, and in whom everything, even to their very luxury, was vulgar. Since the time of Julius II. and Leo X., Italy, especially Rome, had become the most civilized portion of Europe,―the only place where people knew how to live, declared, while combing their beards and paring their nails, these witty and licentious prelates, whose indecent sallies scandalized the fathers from other parts of Europe,sombre and haughty Spaniards, susceptible Frenchmen, and rigorous Germans. Thence arose their lively opposition in the Council.

The first success of the papist intriguers was to get the Council to give up the question of supremacy. It was agreed on both sides not to enter into discussion on this subject, and they passed on to decrees of residence, and the institution of bishops.

These questions, also delicate, occasioned the most animated debates, and the discussion was carried on with such animosity, that not only a violent breach among the fathers, but even the immediate dissolution of the Council was apprehended. The Italian party reserved to the pope alone the appointment of bishops, while the German and Spanish party, backed by the French, contended that the archbishops enjoyed this divine right of appointment equally with the pope, thus putting the archbishops and bishops on a certain footing of equality with the sovereign pontiff himself. These disputes were prolonged, tempers became irritable, and the most violent scenes every day disturbed the assemblage.

Melchior Avosmedian, Bishop of Cadiz, warmly maintained that the right of appointment belonged as well to the archbishops as to the pope. One day, driven to extremity, he exclaimed, “Ay, I know certain bishops whom the pope has not named, and who are as true, as legitimate bishops as any appointed by the pope." "The fact is false! name these bishops!" exclaimed the papists to him.

It would be instructive, had we but the space, to study in detail the artful means employed to make head against so formidable an adversary, and the tactics adopted to conciliate him by degrees, and by little and little divert him from his most decided resolutions. The intrigue was doubtless skilfully managed, but it was also singularly favoured by the natural and well-known levity of the French prelate, by his vanity, which was adroitly flattered, by his interest, brought into play, and lastly, by his ambition, the satisfaction It is an imposture!" cried out the legate Simonof which was promised. The pope had first thought | etta, "the pope has confirmed them."

"They are the four suffragans of the Archbishop of Saltzbourg; that archbishop has ordained them, and the pope has never confirmed them," coldly replied Avosmedian.

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"He has not confirmed them, I say. I have the proof of it; and they are no less valid bishops than the rest of you."

At these words a violent tumult arose in the assembly. The Patriarch of Venice, and the Bishop of La Cava shook upon their scats, exclaiming, "Heresy!" Cadiz endeavoured to reply; "Down with the schismatic!" they cry out upon him on all sides. His friends sought to defend him, but their voices were drowned by the angry cries and stampings of the Italians. In the midst of the tumult the Bishop Giles Falcette rises and exclaims, "Anathema!" "Anathema!" replies the assembly. "Let him be burned! he is a heretic!" cries out a voice from the midst of the throng. "Ay, ay, to the stake, to the stake with him!" furiously reccho a hundred voices of the papists.

Cadiz meanwhile, unable to obtain a hearing, had quitted the chair. The Germans muttered a few words of excuse in his favour. His Spanish friends replied with their outeries to the outcries of the Italians, and threatened them by gestures and by looks. The moody Cardinal de Lorraine, pale and motionless, on beholding the excitement of the assembly, assumed an expression of disdain, and held his peace, smiling with a bitter and contemptuous irony; the French bishops remained silent like himself. The legates, nevertheless, had observed the expression of the cardinal, and comprehended his silence. Simonetta, as supple as he was violent, felt that his friends were going too far. Divining, by the expressive sneer of the Frenchman, the violent effort he was making to overcome his indignation, and fearing lest so formidable an adversary should break out, he endeavoured to restore calm to the assembly, imposing silence to his partisans by signs, and flinging among the Spanish benches a few words of conciliation. By degrees the agitation subsided, the deliberations were resumed, and after certain vague explanations, the cardinals abruptly broke off the sitting.

Lorraine, on retiring, passed by the legates and the principal Romish agitators, and when he was within reach of them, exclaimed, so that he might be well heard :-" The conduct of these gentry is degrading. Cadiz was right! Had he but been a Frenchman, I would have appealed on his behalf to a free and national Council." The terrified legates shrank into silence.

On the opening of the next sitting, Hercules de Gonzaga, Cardinal of Mantua, a partisan of the French, and friend of the Cardinal of Lorraine, spoke in the character of legate, and bitterly complained of the disorders of the previous meeting. "If opinions are no longer free," he observed, "there is no longer a Council; and I declare, for my own part, that if such scenes are again renewed, I swear that I will immediately leave the congregation." Lorraine commended the wisdom of Gonzaga, adding, "that the legates ought not to withdraw themselves upon such miserable grounds; but that it was right that the authors of such disturbances should be punished."

Mantua and the Cardinal of Lorraine had done; and the Papists, immovable, kept silence in wrath and consternation, when La Cava, one of the most turbulent of the party, boldly rising, broke out into speech, and far from excusing himself, or apologizing for his injurious proceedings, exclaimed, "Remove the cause of the disorder, and the effects will cease. Had Cadiz offended only myself, I would have freely forgiven him, as charity requires me to do, but it is the whole Church-it is Christ himself whom he has outraged in the person of the Pope, his Vicar; he is entitled to no forgiveness, to no excuse."

While Cava began speaking, the French prelates took down his words on their tablets, preparing for a reply; but when they saw that he delivered himself with such freedom, a sullen murmur began to circulate along their benches. "The insolent! the audacious!" they muttered among themselves; and they would no doubt have ended by breaking out also, had not the more moderate members, such as are found in all assemblies, thrown themselves forward, and by conciliatory speeches, and caressing both parties by turns, succeeded in averting the impending storm. The discussion was resumed with greater moderation, and the honours of war even rested with the French and Spaniards; for, as the Cardinal of Lorraine insisted, the canon against which Cadiz had objected was altered in their favour. This time the Italians were defeated; but, for all that, they did not lose courage, and an underhanded war of intrigue succeeded to more open hostilities.

The address of the Holy See and the resources of its policy seemed to grow with its difficulties, and to increase with its perils. In order to rebut or moderate the attacks of his opponents, the Holy Father had recourse to the most extraordinary manœuvres. He studied, for instance, how to exaggerate the hostility of his adversaries. One day, in full consistory, he entered, pale and downcast, crying out that all was lost! that the fathers of Trent were going to sacrifice him! that Lansac was the soul of the conspiracy, and that this ambassador had gone so far as to declare in public, that by the aid of the French prelates recently arrived, he trusted to overthrow the idol of Rome. Lansac was thus obliged to humble himself before the pope, and exonerate himself from a speech that he had never uttered. Another time, he assured them, that he well knew the French wished to turn the Council into a Council of Huguenots; and the French prelates were compelled to protest against so odious an imputation. Then the pope affected to be indulgent, forgave faults which had never been committed, making use of extreme gentleness in his pardon and his reproofs, even blessing the pretended delinquents, who thus found themselves obliged to make the amende honorable, and to prove the falseness of the accusations against them by the sacrifice of their opinions, and by concessions which otherwise would never have been withdrawn from them. The success of these tactics surpasses all belief.

"Does it please the fathers to bring to an end the Holy Council, and that the confirmation of it should be demanded of our Holy Father?" "Yes, it pleases us," replied the whole Council, with one voice; three bishops alone protesting against it.

"To the blessed Pope Pius, Bishop of the Holy Church universal, be long years, aud eternal memory!" And all the Council re-echoed, "Long years, and eternal memory!"

Our limits will not allow us to trace the deep in- | promulgated, and all the fathers being present, protrigues by which the formidable Cardinal de Lorraine ceeded as follows:— was gradually gained over by the Papist party, who, their principal adversary being thus reduced, came off at last with flying colours, after all the attacks of their enemies. Suffice it to say, the promises and flatteries of the pope at length so completely won over the French cardinal, that he was now always repeating, that he took as lively an interest in the happy termination of the Council as the Holy Father himself; and that he now clearly perceived that the safety of Catholicism consisted in a sincere union with the Holy See! Such was the triumph of Italian astuteness and diplomacy. No sooner had Lorraine ⠀ departed for France, than the deliberations of the assembly were scandalously hurried over; and with the exception of some French and Spanish malcontents, the whole of the fathers seemed to have but one desire, that of delivering his Holiness from the torments of the Council, as the nuncio Visconti, the principal intriguer, wrote privately on the occasion to Cardinal Borromeo.

With this view the utmost haste was made in promulgating a list of forbidden books. Fifteen hundred names of authors and volumes were lumped together in this wholesale proscription. It was thought sufficient to copy the list made out at Rome by the Inquisitors, who had aimed at quantity and quality at the same time. The twenty articles of the Reformation were swept away at once. Although these had been discussed in the preliminary meetings, they still presented numerous difficulties on points the most essential; but far from attempting any further discussion of them, it was found convenient to adjourn them sine die.

The Count de Luna, and the French ambassador, Arnaud du Ferrier, alone resisted this indecent precipitation. They ceased not to demand a profound investigation of the matters under discussion. Ferrier uttered a biting protestation against the concluding acts of the Council, and against the encroachments of the clergy upon the temporal power of princes. "I see well," he observed, in a tone of raillery," I see well that we have need to fast and weep a long time yet, while awaiting that reformation of abuses decided on and promised for this last hundred and fifty years! What think you, my fathers! instead of seeking to remove abuses, you are endeavouring to humble our princes; instead of desiring to reform what is evil, you are only solicitous how to invade the liberties of our Gallican Church! Alas, my fathers! you seek to get rid of heresy-well and good-but, believe me, it is by able preaching, and by worthy living, that you will succeed in extirpating heretics, and not by provocations addressed to princes by way of pastime, and by decrees drawn up in a hurry while polishing your nails!"

It was the Legate Moro, Bishop of Palestrina, who at length proclaimed the closing of the Council in full assemblage, and with magnificent ceremonial. The Secretary, Ange Massarel, having read all the articles

Then followed benedictions for the popes deceased during the Council, and for the Emperor Charles the Fifth; acclamations for the Emperor Ferdinand, (the only sovereign named ;) for all kings, princes, republies, legates, cardinals, ambassadors, bishops, abbés, and theologians; and Moro resumed

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"We all believe, we all feel, we all declare, that this faith of the Council is the faith of Saint Peter and the Apostles, the faith of the fathers of the Church, the faith of all right-thinking and Catholic men."

it."

"We all believe it; we all feel it; we all declare

"Anathema upon all heretics!"
"Anathema! so be it!"

This was the last word of the Council.

After so prolonged a stay in the city of Trent, the fathers were in such a hurry to get away from it, that the legates were obliged to threaten with excommunication all those who should depart without having approved and signed with their own hands the decrees of the Council. Four legates, two cardinals, twenty-five archbishops, a hundred and sixty-eight bishops, thirty-nine procurators, charged with power by absent prelates, seven abbés, and seven heads of orders, signed these decrees; one of the legates chanted the Te Deum, and the Te Deum being finished, the legate bestowed his benediction upon the fathers, and said to them, "Depart in peace!"

Such was the end of the Council of Trent, assembled on the occasion of the Reformation, and which, incapable of combating it efficaciously, and not being willing to enter into compromise with it, was unable to arrest its progress. In fact, during its debates, Lutheranism became naturalized in Germany, and becoming victorious, dictated its own conditions. Calvinism was solidly established in Switzerland, and in the midst of wars and massacres spread rapidly in France, as it did in England also. Lastly, in spite of the fearful persecutions of Charles the Fifth and his successors, (and Grotius affirms that more than a hundred thousand persons perished by these cruelties,) the Reformers invaded the Flemish provinces, and the atrocious wars of the Duke of Alba, and the measures of the Council of blood, were not able to drive them

away.

A man that astonishes at first soon makes people impatient if he does not continue in the same andante key.-Walpole..

THE HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THOS. MORE.1 LIBELLUS A MARGARETA MORE, QUINDECIM ANNOS NATA, CHELSEIÆ INCEPTVS.

"Nulla dies sine linea."

ENTERING, o' the suddain, into Mercy's chamber, I founde her all be-wept and waped, poring over an old kirtle of mother's she had bidden her re-line with buckram. Coulde not make out whether she were sick of her task, had had words with mother, or had some secret inquietation of her owne; but, as she is a girl of few words, I found I had best leave her alone after a caress and kind saying or two. We alle have our troubles.

.... Trulie may I say soe. Here have they ta'en a fever of some low sorte in my house of refuge, and mother, fearing it may be ye sicknesse, will not have me goe neare it, lest I sd bring it home. Mercy, howbeit, hath besought her soe earnestlie to let her goe and nurse ye sick, that mother hath granted her prayer, on condition she returneth not till ye fever bates... thus setting her life at lower value than our owne. Deare Mercy! I woulde fayn be her mate.

We are alle mightie glad that Rupert Allington hath at lengthe zealouslie embraced ye studdy of the law. 'Twas much to be feared at ye firste there was noe application in him, and though we alle pitied him when father first broughte him home, a pillaged, portionlesse client, with none other to espouse his rightes, yet 'twas a pitie soone allied with contempt when we founde how emptie he was, caring for nought but archerie and skittles and the popinjaye out o' the house, and dicing and tables within, which father wd on noe excuse permitt. Soe he had to conform, ruefullie enow, and hung piteouslie on hand for awhile. I mind me of Bess's saying, about Christmasse, "Heaven send us open weather while Allington is here; I don't believe he is one that will bear shutting up." Howbeit, he seemed to incline towards Daisy, who is handsome enow, and cannot be hindered of two hundred pounds, and soe he kept within bounds, and when father got him his cause he was mightilie thankfulle, and woulde have left us out of hand, but father persuaded him to let his estate recover itself, and turn ye mean time to profitt, and, in short, soe wrought on him, that he hath now become a student in righte earneste.

Soe we are going to lose not only Mr. Clement, but Mr. Gunnel! How sorrie we alle are! It seemeth he hath long been debating for and agaynst ye church, and at length finds his mind soe stronglie set towards it, as he can keep out of it noe longer. Well! we shall lose a good master, and ye church will gayn a good servant. Drew will supplie his place, that is, according to his beste, but our worthy Welshman careth soc little for young people, and is soe abstract from ye world about him, that we shall oft feel our (1) Continued from p. 202.

loss. Father hath promised Gonellus his interest with ye Cardinall.

I fell into disgrace for holding speech with Mercy over ye pales, but she is confident there is noe danger; the sick are doing well, and none of ye whole have fallen sick. She sayth Gammer Gurney is as tender of her as if she were her daughter, and will let her doe noe vile or paynfull office, soe as she hath little to doe but read and pray for ye poor souls, and feed 'em with savourie messes, and they are alle so harmonious and full of cheer, as to be like birds in a nest. Mercy deserves theire blessings more than I. Were I a free agent, she sd not be alone now, and I hope ne'er to be withheld therefrom agayn.

Busied with my flowers ye chief o' the forenoon, I was fayn to rest in the pavillion, when, entering therein, whom shoulde I stumble upon but William, layd at length on ye floor, with his arms under his head, and his book on ye ground. I was withdrawing brisklie enow, when he called out, "Don't goe away, since you are here," in a tone soe rough, soe unlike his usuall key, as that I paused in a maze, and then saw that his eyes were red. He sprung to his feet and sayd, "Meg, come and talk to me," and, taking my hand in his, stepped quicklie forthe without another word sayd, till we reached the elm-tree walk. I marvelled to see him soe moven, and expected to hear somewhat that shoulde displease me, scarce knowing what; however, I might have guest at it from then till now, without ever nearing ye truth. His first words were, I wish Erasmus had ne'er crost ye thresholde; he has made me very unhappie;" then, seeing me stare, "Be not his council just now, deare Meg, but bind up, if thou canst, the wounds he has made. . . There be some wounds, thou knowest, though but of a cut finger or the like, that we cannot well bind up for ourselves."

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I made answer, "I am a young and unskilled leech."

He replyed, "But you have a quick wit, and patience, and kindnesse, and, for a woman, are not scant of learning."

Nay," I sayd, "but Mr. Gunnel-"

"Gunnel would be the last to help me," interrupts Will," nor can I speak to your father. He is alwaies too busie now. . . besides,-"

"Father Francis," I put in.

"Father Francis?" repeats Will, with a shake o' the head and a ruefull smile, "dost thou think, Meg, he coulde answer me if I put to him Pilate's question, What is truth ?" "

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"We know alreadie," quoth I.

Sayth Will," What do we know?"

I paused, then made answer reverentlie, "That Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life."

"Yes," he exclaymed, clapping his hands together in a strange sort of passion; "that we doe know, blessed be God, and other foundation can or ought noe man to lay than that is layd, which is Jesus Christ. But, Meg, is this the principle of our church?"

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