SECTION A concise description of the valleys of Piedmont, and of the Pyrenees; with some account of the life and doctrine of Claude, bishop of Turin. THE principality of Piedmont, 1 derives its name from the circumstance of its being situated at the foot of the Alps — a prodigious range of mountains, the highest indeed in Europe, and which divide Italy from France, Switzerland, and Germany. It is hounded on the east by the duchies of Milan and Montferrat; on the south by the county of Nice and the territory of Genoa; on the west by France; and on the north by Savoy.

In former times it constituted a part of Lombardy, but more recently has been subject to the king of Sardinia, who takes up his residence at Turin, the capital of the province, and one of the finest cities in Europe. It is an extensive tract of rich and fruitful valleys, embosomed in mountains which are encircled again with mountains higher than they, intersected with deep and rapid rivers, and exhibiting in strong contrast, the beauty and plenty of Paradise, in sight of frightful precipices, wide lakes of ice, and stupendous mountains of never-wasting snow. The whole country is an interchange of hill and dale; mountain and valley — traversed with four principal rivers, viz. the Po, the Tanaro, the Stura, and the Dora, besides about eight and twenty rivulets great and small, which, winding their courses in different directions, contribute to the fertility of the valleys, and make them resemble a watered garden.

The principal valleys are Aosta and Susa on the north — Stura on the south — and in the interior of the country, Lucerna, Angrogna, Raccapiatta, Pramol, Perosa, and S. Martino. The valley of Clusone, or Pragela, as it is often called, was in ancient times a part of the province of Dauphiny in France, and has been, from the days of Hannibal, the ordinary rout of the French and other armies, when marching into Italy.

Angrogna, Pramol, and S. Martino are strongly fortified by nature on account of their many difficult passes and bulwarks of rocks and mountains; as if the all wise Creator, says Sir Samuel Motland, 2 had, from the beginning, designed that place as a cabinet, wherein to put some inestimable jewel, or in which to reserve many thousand souls, which should not bow the knee before Baal.

Several of these valleys are described by our geographers as being remarkably rich and fruitful — as fertile and pleasant as any part of Italy.

In the mountains are mines of gold, silver, brass, and iron; the rivers abound with a variety of exquisite fish; the forests and the fields with game; while the soil yields every thing necessary to the enjoyment of human life, — abundance of corn, rice, wine, fruits, hemp, and cattle.

Throughout the whole territory, except on the tops of the mountains, there is to be found great plenty of fruits, especially of chesnuts which the inhabitants gather in immense quantities, and after drying them in an oven or upon a kiln, they manufacture from them an excellent kind of biscuit, which in France they call marroons, and where they are in high estimation as a species of confectionary. They first of all string them, as they do their beads or chaplets, and then hang them up in some humid place for their better preservation. As the bread made from the chesnut constitutes a considerable part of the food of the inhabitants of Piedmont, it is a common practice among them, after reserving what may be necessary for their own sustenance, to sell or exchange the surplus with the inhabitants of the plain for corn or other commodities.

In the patriarchal age of the world, when the people of the east had parceled out the country into many separate states, some savage and others civilized, it is said of the Hebrews, that they went from one nation to another; from one kingdom to another people. In the middle ages, the same spirit prevailed over the west. Petty chiefs assumed independence, and formed a vast number of separate kingdoms. Reputed heretics, like the ancient Israelites, emigrated from place to place, taking up their abode only where they could enjoy the privileges of religious liberty.

The Pyrenean mountains, which separate France and Spain, extend from the Mediterranean sea to the Atlantic ocean, that is, at least two hundred miles, and in breadth at several places more than one hundred. The surface is, as may naturally be expected, wonderfully diversified. Hills rise upon hills, and mountains over mountains, some bare of verdure, and others crowned with forests of huge cork trees, oak, beech, chesnuts, and evergreens.

When travelers of taste pass over them, they are in raptures and seem at a loss for words to express what they behold. The landscape, say they, on every side is divine. More delightful prospects never existed even in the creative imagination of Claude Lorraine. 3 In some places are bleak, perpendicular rocks and dangerous precipices; in others beautiful, fertile, and very extensive valleys, adorned with aloes, and wild promegranates; enriched with olives, lemons, oranges, apples, corn, flax; and perfumed with aromatic herbs, and animated with venison and wild fowl. Numerous flocks of sheep and goats enliven the hills, manufacturers of wool inhabit the valleys, and corn and wine, flax and oil, hang on the slopes.

Inexhaustible mines of the finest iron in the world abound there, and the forests supply them with plenty of timber. There are whole towns of smiths, who carry on the manufacture of all sorts of iron work, especially for the use of the military and navy, and their workmanship is much extolled. This chain of mountains runs from the Bay of Biscay to the Bay of Roses, and the sea-ports about each of them were accustomed to be crowded with inhabitants, commerce, plenty and wealth.

A spectator, taking his stand on the top of the ridge of these mountains, will observe, that at the foot, on the Spanish side, lie Asturias, Old Castile, Arragon, and Catalonia; and on the French side, Guienne and Languedoc, Toulouse, Bearn, Alby, Roussillon, and Narbonne, all of which places were remarkable in the darkest times for harboring Christians who were reputed heretics. 4 Indeed, from the borders of Spain, throughout the greatest part of the south of France, among and below the Alps, along the Rhine, and even to Bohemia, thousands of the disciples of Christ, as will hereafter be shown, were found, even in the very worst of times, preserving the faith in its purity, adhering to the simplicity of Christian worship, patiently bearing the cross after Christ: men distinguished by their fear of God and obedience to his will, and persecuted only for righteousness’ sake.

Voltaire has so justly and beautifully described the general state of Italy, as it existed at a period some little time subsequent to that of which I am about to treat, that, I shall here introduce his words. “In the beautiful and trading cities of Italy,” says he, “the people lived in ease and affluence.

With them alone the sweets of life seem to have taken up their residence, and riches and liberty inspired their genius and elevated their courage.

Notwithstanding the dissensions that prevailed every where, they began to emerge from that brutality which had in a manner overwhelmed Europe after the decline of the Roman empire. The necessary arts had never been entirely lost. The artificers and merchants, whose humble station had protected them from the ambitious fury of the great, were like ants, who dug themselves peaceable and secure habitations, while the vultures and eagles of the world were tearing one another in pieces.” This pleasing picture, which, no doubt, is very correct, as it respects the civil affairs of men, is equally applicable to the inhabitants of Piedmont and the Pyrenees, as to those states of Italy of whom Voltaire speaks; but if applied to the concerns of the kingdom of heaven, the felicity resulting from it will be found to have been almost exclusively theirs, during several of the succeeding centuries. I shall not, however, with the view of justifying this remark, here anticipate occurrences which will come more properly under the reader’s notice in prosecuting that branch of ecclesiastical history, on which we are about to enter.

The former chapter affords an ample insight into the gradual encroachments and domineering influence of the church of Rome, during the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries. But it ought to be noticed, that neither the prevailing corruptions of that church, nor the arrogant claims of its successive popes, were implicitly allowed by all the other bishops and churches, even in Italy itself. “In the year 590, the bishops of Italy and the Grisons (Swisserland), to the number of nine, rejected the communion of the Pope, as of an heretic. This schism had already continued from the year 553, and towards the close of the century, the emperor Maurice, having ordered them to be present at the council of Rome, they were dispensed with by the same emperor, upon their protesting that they could not communicate with Pope Gregory I; so little were they persuaded at that time of the Pope’s infallibility, that to lose communion with him was to lose the communion of the church, or that they held their ordinations from the hand of the Popes, and from the bishops subjected to their jurisdiction.” In the following century a firm and noble stand was made against the papal usurpations by Paulinus, bishop of the church of Aquileia, in Italy. This venerable man was born about the year 726, near Friuli; but of the earlier part of his life, we know little more than that he was in great favor with Charles the Great, king of France, and preached the gospel to the Pagans of Carinthia and Styria, and to the Avares, a nation of Huns. In the year 776, he was ordained bishop of Aquileia, in which office he continued laboring till his death, which took place in 804. He seems to have possessed a strong and an enlightened mind, for there are few of the abominations of his times which he does not appear to have combated. In the year 787, he, and some other Italian bishops agreed to condemn the decrees of the famous second council of Nice, which had established the worship of images, declaring it to be idolatrous, and that, too, notwithstanding the council had received the sanction of pope Adrian, who was present at its deliberations, and exerted all his authority to maintain its decisions. This shows that, at this time, the despotism of Antichrist was not universally owned, even throughout Italy itself. The city of Rome and its environs seem to have been at that period the most corrupt part of Christendom in Europe.

Amongst other corruptions which prevailed, the doctrine of transubstantiation then began to be generally propagated. Paulinus undertook to refute that absurdity, in a treatise on the eucharist, which he wrote at the request of Charles the Great, and which he dedicated to that monarch. He affirms that the eucharist was a morsel or bit of bread, and that it is either death or life to him that partakes of it, according as he hath or hath not faith in that which is signified by it. He pours the utmost contempt upon the sacrifice of the mass, opens up the scripture doctrine of Christ’s priestly office, as after the order of Melchisedec, vindicates his incarnation and crucifixion as the true propitiatory sacrifice for sin, and thunders out the boldest anathemas against all human satisfactions, maintaining that the blood of none of those who have themselves been redeemed is capable of blotting out the least sin, for that this privilege comes alone through the Lord Jesus Christ. “The Son of God,” says he, “our Almighty Lord, because he redeemed us by the price of his blood, is properly called the true Redeemer by all that are redeemed by him. He, I say, was not redeemed, because he was never captive; but we are redeemed, who were captives sold under sin, and bound by the handwriting that was against us, which he took away, blotting it out with his blood, which the blood of no other redeemer could do, and fixed it to his cross, openly triumphing over it in himself.”

In opposition to the Arians, who attributed to Christ only an adopted Sonship, he thus illustrates John 6:32-58. “Is it said, that he who doth not eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, hath not eternal life? “He that eats my flesh,” saith Christ, “and drinks my blood, hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day; my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.”

The power of raising up at the last day belongs to none but the true God; for the flesh and blood cannot be referred to his divine, but to his human nature, by which he is the Son of man. And yet if that Son of man, whose flesh and blood this is, (for that one and the same person is both the Son of God and Son of man) were not really God, his flesh and blood could not procure eternal life to those that eat them. Hence the evangelist John saith, “The blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth from all sin.” Moreover, whose flesh and blood is it that gives life to those that eat and drink them, but the Son of Man’s, whom God the Father hath sealed; who is the true and almighty Son of God. ForHE, the bread of life, came down from heaven for us, and gives his life for the world, to the end that whosoever eats thereof, shall live for ever.” In reference to Christ’s intercession, he says, “He is called the Mediator, because he is a middle person between both the disagreeing parties, and reconciles both of them in one. Paul is not a mediator, but a faithful ambassador of the Mediator.” He then quotes his words, “We are ambassadors for Christ, praying you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.” “Our advocate,” says he, “is one that intercedes for those that are already reconciled, even as our Redeemer doth, when he shows his human nature to God the Father, in the unity of his person, being God-man. John doth not intercede for us, but declares Him (Jesus)to be the propitiation for our sins.”

These extracts, which might be enlarged to a great extent, are sufficient to give the intelligent reader some idea of the doctrinal principles of Paulinus.

He denied the supremacy of Peter over the rest of the apostles — lays it down as an inviolable maxim of Christianity, that God alone is the object of our faith, in opposition to what was taught in the church of Rome — and, in short, to quote the words of a learned writer, — “Whoever examines the opinions of this bishop, will easily perceive that he denies what the church of Rome affirms with relation to many of its leading tenets, and affirms what the church of Rome denies: and whatever colorable pretexts may be employed, it will be difficult not to perceive this opposition through them all.” But the succession of events now leads me to call the reader’s attention to the life and labors ofCLAUDE,BISHOP OF TURIN. This truly great man, who has not improperly been called the first Protestant reformer, was born in Spain. In his early years he was a chaplain in the court of the emperor Lewis the Meek (Ludovicus Pius, king of France and emperor of the West) and was even then in high repute for his knowledge of the Scriptures, and his first-rate talents as a preacher; in consequence of which, says the Abbe Fleury, Lewis perceiving the deplorable ignorance of a great part of Italy, in regard to the doctrines of the gospel, and desirous of providing the churches of Piedmont with one who might stem the growing torrent of image worship, promoted Claude to the see of Turin, about the year 817. In this event, the attentive reader will hereafter perceive the hand of God so ordering the course of events in his holy providence as, in the very worst of times, to prepare, “a seed to serve him, and a generation to call him blessed.” The expectations of the emperor were amply justified in the labors of Claude; by his writings he ably illustrated the sacred Scriptures, and drew the attention of multitudes to their plain and simple meaning, unadulterated by the corrupt glosses of the Catholic priesthood. “In truth,” says Fleury, himself a Catholic writer, “he began to preach and instruct with great application.” His first zeal was directed against images, relics, pilgrimages, and crosses. It is not to be supposed that efforts such as his, directed against the prevailing superstitions of the age, should produce no ostensible effect; the monks were presently up in arms against him, reviling him as a blasphemer and a heretic, and his own people became so refractory that, in a little time, he went about in fear of his life. Supported, however, by the testimony of a good conscience, and a confidence in the goodness of his cause, Claude persevered, and wrote comments on several books of scripture, of which, unfortunately, the only one that has been printed is his Exposition of the Epistle to the Galatians. “He bore a noble testimony,” says Mr. Robinson (in his Ecclesiastical Researches, p. 447) against the prevailing errors of his time, and was undoubtedly a most respectable character.”

Of one whose reputation stands so high, it cannot be necessary to enter upon any formal vindication against the calumnies of his opponents, but it may be satisfactory to the reader to have before him a summary of the principles which he held, and for which he nobly contended. Let it be observed then, that, throughout the whole of his writings, he maintains that “Jesus Christ is the alone head of the church.” This, the reader will perceive, struck immediately at the root of the first principle of Popery — the vicarious office of the bishop of Rome. He utterly discards the doctrine of human worthiness in the article of justification, in such a manner, as overthrows all the subtle distinctions of Papists on the subject.

He pronounces anathemas against traditions in matters of religion, and thus drew the attention of men to the word of God, and that alone, as the ground of a Christian’s faith. He maintained, that men are justified by faith, without the deeds of the law — the doctrine which Luther, seven hundred years afterwards, so ably contended for, and which so excessively provoked the advocates of the church of Rome. He contended that the church was subject to error, and denied that prayers for the dead can be of any use to those that have demanded them; while he lashed, in the severest manner, the superstition and idolatry which every where abounded under the countenance and authority of the see of Rome.

The writings of Claude were voluminous; for he was indefatigable in explaining the Scriptures, and in opposing the torrent of superstition. He wrote three books upon Genesis in the year 815, and also a Commentary on the Gospel by Matthew, of which there are several copies in England.

He wrote a Commentary on Exodus in the year 821, and another on Leviticus in 823, besides which, he wrote comments on all the apostolic epistles , which have been since found, in manuscript in two vols. in the Abbey of Fleury, near Orleans, in France. These latter were drawn up at the express request of the emperor, Ludovicus Pius, to whom he dedicated his Commentary on the Epistle to the Ephesians; also of Justus, bishop of Charroux, and of Dructeramnus, an abbot of celebrity, to whom he dedicated his Comment on the Epistle to the Galatians. As a specimen of his style and sentiments, the reader may take the following extracts from his illustration of the Lord’s supper. “The apostles being sat down at table, Jesus Christ took bread, blessed and brake it, and gave it to his disciples, saying to them, Take, and eat — this is my body. The ancient solemnities of the passover, which were used in commemoration of the deliverance of the children of Israel, being ended, he passeth on to the new, because he would have the same to be celebrated in his church, as a memorial of the mystery of her redemption, and to substitute the sacrament of his body, and of his blood, instead of the flesh and blood of the paschal lamb; and to show that it was he himself to whom God had sworn, and shall never repent, ‘Thou art the eternal Priest according to the order of Melchisedec.’ Moreover, he himself breaks the bread which he gives the disciples, that he might represent and make it appear, that the breaking of his body would not be contrary to his inclination, or without his willingness to die; but as he himself elsewhere says, that he had power to give his life, and to deliver it up himself, as well as to take it again, and raise himself from the dead. He blessed the bread before he brake it, to teach us that he intended to make a sacrament of it. When he drew nigh to the time of his death and passion, it is said, that, having taken the bread and cup, he gave thanks to his Eternal Father. He who had taken upon him to expiate the iniquities of others, gave thanks to his Father, without having done any thing that was worthy of death: He blesseth it with profound humility at the very time that he saw himself laden with stripes, no doubt to teach us that submission which we ought to exercise [under the chastening hand of God.] If he, who was innocent, endured, with meekness and tranquillity, the stripes due to the iniquities of others, it was to teach and instruct us what we ought to do when corrected for our own transgressions. In regard to his saying, “This is my blood of the New Testament,” it is to teach us to distinguish between the new covenant and the old — the latter of which was consecrated by the effusion of the blood of goats and oxen, as the [Jewish] lawgiver said at the sprinkling of it, “This is the blood of the covenant that God hath commanded you:” For it was necessary that the patterns of true things should be purified by these, but that the heavenly places should be purified with more excellent sacrifices, according to what the apostle Paul declares throughout his whole epistle to the Hebrews, where he makes a distinction between the law and the gospel. Jesus Christ, when about to suffer, says, “I will drink no more of this fruit of the vine, until the day that I shall drink it new with you in the kingdom of my Father.” As if he had plainly said, “I will no longer take delight in the carnal ceremonies of the synagogue, amongst the number of which, the great festival of the paschal lamb was one of the chiefest; for the time of my resurrection is at hand; that day will arrive, when I shall be lifted up to my heavenly kingdom, even to a state of glorious immortality, where I shall be filled together with you, with a new joy for the salvation of my people, which shall be born again in the spring of one and the same grace. The “new wine,” may also import the immortality of our renewed bodies; for when he saith, “I will drink it with you,” he promises them the resurrection of their bodies, in order to their being clothed with immortality.”

In the year 828, Claude was attacked most fiercely by a French monkish writer of the name of Dungalus, who censures him for taking upon himself, after a lapse of more than eight hundred and twenty years, to reprove those things that had hitherto been in continual use, as if there had been none before himself that had ever had any zeal for religion. About the same time another writer of the same school, whose name was Theodemirus, wrote to him, giving him to understand that his opinions and behavior every where gave great offense. His answer to these writers was such as made it quite unnecessary for him to write another treatise on the same or a similar occasion; and in the following extracts from it, the reader may almost persuade himself that he is perusing the pages of the immortal Luther. “I have received,” says he to Theodemirus, “by a special messenger, your letter, with the articles, wholly stuffed with babbling and fooleries. You declare in these articles, that you have been troubled that my fame was spread not only throughout all Italy, but also in Spain and elsewhere; as if I were preaching a new doctrine, or setting myself up as the founder of a new sect, contrary to the rules of the ancient Catholic faith, which is an absolute falsehood. But it is no wonder that the members of Satan should talk of me at this rate, since they called [Christ] our Head a deceiver, and one that had a devil, etc. For, I teach no new heresy, but keep myself to the pure truth , preaching and publishing nothing but that. On the contrary, as far as in me lies, I have repressed, opposed, cast down, and destroyed, and do still repress, oppose and destroy, to the utmost of my power, all sects, schisms, superstitions, and heresies, and shall never cease so to do, God being my helper, as far as in me lies. “When I came to Turin, I found all the churches full of abominations and images; and because I began to destroy what every one adored, every one began to open his mouth against me.

These kind of people against whom we have undertaken to defend the church of God, tell us, if you write upon the wall, or draw the images of Paul, of Jupiter, of Saturn, or Mercury, neither are the one of these gods, nor the other apostles, and neither the one nor the other of these are men, and therefore the name is changed. But, surely, if we ought to worship them, we ought rather, to worship them during their life time, than as thus represented as the portraits of beasts, or (what is yet more true) of stone or wood, which have neither, life, feeling, nor reason. For if we may neither worship nor serve the works of God’s hand, how much less may we worship the works of men’s hands and pay adoration to them in honor of those whose remembrance we say they are? For if the image you worship is not God, wherefore dost thou bow down to false images; and wherefore, like a slave, dost thou bend thy body to pitiful shrines, and to the work of men’s hands? Certainly, not only he who serves and honors visible images, but also whatsoever creature else, whether heavenly or earthly, spiritual or corporeal, serves the same instead of God, and from it expects the salvation of his soul, which he ought to look for from God alone. All such are of the number of those concerning whom the apostle said, that “they worshipped and served the creature more-than the Creator.” “But mark what the followers of superstition and false religion allege! They tell us it is in commemoration and honor of our Savior that we serve, honor, and adore the cross — persons whom nothing in the Savior pleaseth, but that which was pleasing to the ungodly, viz. the reproach of his sufferings and the token of his death. Hereby they evince that they perceive only of him, what the wicked saw and perceived of him, whether Jews, or heathens, who do not see his resurrection, and do not consider him but as altogether swallowed up of death, without regarding what the apostle says, “We know Jesus Christ no longer according to the flesh.” “God commands one thing, and these people do quite the contrary.

God commands us to bear our cross, and not to worship it; but these are all for worshipping it, whereas they do not bear it at all — to serve God after this manner, is to go a-whoring from him. For if we ought to adore the cross, because Christ was fastened to it, how many other things are there which touched Jesus Christ, and which he made according to the flesh? Did he not continue nine months in the womb of the virgin? Why do they not then on the same score worship all that are virgins, because a virgin brought forth Jesus Christ? Why do they not adore mangers and old clothes, because he was laid in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes? Why do they not adore fishing-boats, because he slept in one of them, and [from it] preached to the multitudes, and caused a net to be cast out, wherewith was caught a miraculous quantity of fish.? Let them adore asses, because he entered into Jerusalem upon the foal of an ass; and lambs, because it is written of him, “Behold the lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.”

But these sorts of men would rather eat live lambs than worship their images! Why do they not worship lions, because he is called “the lion of the tribe of Judah?” or rocks, since it is said “and that rock was Christ?” or thorns, because he was crowned with them? or lances, because one of them pierced his side? “All these things are ridiculous, and rather to be lamented than set forth in writing; but we are compelled to state them in opposition to fools, and to declaim against those hearts of stone, which the arrows and sentences of the word of God cannot pierce. Come to yourselves again, ye miserable transgressors; why are ye gone astray from the truth, and why, having become vain, are ye fallen in love with vanity? Why do you crucify again the Son of God, and expose him to open shame, and by these means make souls, by troops, to become the companions of devils, estranging them from their Creator, by the horrible sacrilege of your images and likenesses, and thus precipitating them into everlasting damnation? “As for your reproaching me, that I hinder men from running in pilgrimage to Rome, I demand of you yourself, whether thou thinkest that to go to Rome is to repent, or to do penance? If indeed it be, why then hast thou for so long a time damned so many souls by confining them in thy monastery, and whom thou hast taken into it, that they might there do penance, if it be so that the way to do penance is to go to Rome, and yet thou hast hindered them? What hast thou to say against this sentence, ‘Whosoever shall lay a stone of stumbling before any of these little ones, it were better for him that a millstone were hung about his neck, and he cast into the bottom of the sea?’ “We know very well that this passage of the gospel is quite misunderstood — ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven;’ under the pretense of which words, the stupid and ignorant multitude destitute of all spiritual knowledge, betake themselves to Rome, in the hope of acquiring eternal life. But the ministry [of the gospel] belongs to all the true presbyters and pastors of the church, who discharge the same as long as they are in this world, and when they have paid the debt of death, others succeed in their places, who possess the same authority and power. “Return, O ye blind, to your light; return to him who enlightens every man that cometh into the world. All of you, however numerous ye may be, who depart from this light, ye walk in darkness, and know not whither ye go, for the darkness has put out your eyes. If we are to believe God when he promiseth, how much more when he swears, and saith, If Noah, Daniel, and Job, (that is, if the saints whom you call upon, were endowed with holiness, righteousness, and merit, equal to theirs,) they shall neither deliver son nor daughter; and it is for this end he makes the declaration, that none might place their confidence, in either the merits or the intercession of saints. Understand ye this, ye people without understanding? Ye fools, when will ye be wise? Ye who run to Rome, there to seek for the intercession of an apostle. “The fifth thing for which you reproach me is — that you are much displeased, because ‘the apostolic lord’ (for so you are pleased to nominate the late Pope Paschal) had honored me with this charge. But you should remember, that he only is apostolic who is the keeper and guardian of the apostle’s doctrine, and not he who boasts himself of being seated in the chair of the apostle, and in the mean time neglects to acquit himself of the apostolic charge; for the Lord saith, that the Scribes and Pharisees sat in Moses’ seat.” From these extracts, some estimate may be formed of the principles and character of Claude of Turin — a name less known in the present day, and a character less honored, than they deserve. By his preaching, and by his valuable writings, he disseminated the doctrine of the kingdom of heaven — and, although the seed were as a grain of mustard seed cast into the earth, the glorious effects ultimately produced by it, justify the truth of our Lord’s parable, that when it is grown up, it produceth a tree, whose branches are so ramified and extended, that the birds of the air come and lodge therein. His doctrine grew exceedingly — the valleys of Piedmont were in time filled with his disciples, and while midnight darkness sat enthroned over almost every portion of the globe, theWALDENSES, which is only another name for the inhabitants of these valleys, preserved the gospel among them in its native purity, and rejoiced in its glorious light.

Claude continued his labors at Turin at least twenty years, for he was alive in eight hundred and thirty-nine — but we have no documents existing that enable us to trace out the operation of his principles in the formation of independent churches, in a state of separation from the world; and it is very probable that during the life of this venerable man, but few attempts of this kind were made. The Catholic writers, particularly Genebrard in his Chronology, and also Rorenco, have explicitly owned, that “the valleys of Piedmont, which belonged to the bishoprick of Turin, preserved the opinions of Claude in the ninth and tenth centuries;” and, in the account of thePATERINES, which we shall soon arrive at, we shall see how extensively they spread not only in Piedmont, but throughout the neighboring country of the Milanese. “It is admitted,” says Mr. Robinson, “that if the Waldenses had reasoned consequentially on the principles of their master, they would, after his death, have dissented, but there is no evidence that they did reason so.” He, therefore, is of opinion, that some considerable time elapsed (probably half-a-century,) before they broke off all communion with the established church.

It will, no doubt, appear a matter of surprise to some, that an opposer so zealous and intrepid as Claude certainly was, should have escaped the fury of the church of Rome. But it should be remembered, that the despotism of that wicked court had not yet arrived at its plenitude of power and intolerance. To which may be added as another very probable reason, that some of the European monarchs viewed the domineering influence of the bishops of Rome with considerable jealousy, and gladly extended their protection to those whose labors had a tendency to reduce it; such was at this time the case with the court of France in regard to Claude. It is, nevertheless, sufficiently manifest, that this great man held his life in continual jeopardy. “In standing up,” says he, “for the confirmation and defense of the truth, I am become a reproach to my neighbors, to that degree, that those who see us do not only scoff at us, but point at us one to another. But God, the father of mercies, and author of all consolation, hath comforted us in all our afflictions, that we may be able, in like manner, to comfort those that are cast down with sorrow and affliction.

We rely upon the protection of him who hath armed and fortified us with the armor of righteousness and of faith, the tried shield of our salvation.” 9 SECTION The state of the Catholic Church from the ninth to the twelfth century. A.D. 800 — 1200. THE ninth and tenth centuries of the Christian era, are universally allowed to form the lowest point of depression to which the profession of the religion of Jesus was reduced in regard to darkness and superstition. It will not, therefore, be necessary to detain the reader long from subjects of a more pleasing nature, by dwelling very minutely upon the state of things during this period. The fact is acknowledged by the papists themselves; by Caranza, Genebrard, Baronius, and others, who describe the tenth century as a monstrous age . The language of the latter writer indeed, is so remarkable, that it deserves to be quoted. Alluding to Psalm 44:23, he says, “Christ was then, as it would appear, in a deep sleep, and the ship was covered with waves; and what seemed worse, when the Lord was thus asleep, there were no disciples, by their cries to awaken him, being themselves all fast asleep.” It may not, however, be without its use to take a rapid glance at the proceedings of the court of Rome, and mark the stages by which the antichristian power arrived at its zenith.

On entering upon this subject, there is one remarkable circumstance which merits the reader’s notice as he proceeds, for the fact is worthy of his attention. It has fallen to our lot, through the good providence of God, to see this monstrous power, which for a succession of ages tyrannized over the bodies and souls of men, virtually annihilated by the power of France.

What the reader should particularly remark is, that it was by the aid of that same power, in a very especial manner, that the “Man of Sin” was elevated to his throne. It can scarcely be necessary to recall to his recollection the intrigues between the popes and French monarchs, of which I have given a short detail in a former section. The sequel will appear to be quite in character; but we must go back a little to trace the subject in order.

On the death of Pepin, king of France, in the year 768, his dominions were divided between his two sons, Charles and Carloman, the latter of whom dying two years afterwards, Charles became sole monarch of that country.

In his general character, he somewhat resembled our English Alfred, and is deservedly ranked amongst the most illustrious sovereigns that have appeared — a rare instance of a monarch, who united his own glory with the happiness of his people. In private life he was amiable; an affectionate father, a fond husband, and a generous friend. Though engaged in many wars, he was far from neglecting the arts of peace, the welfare of his subjects, or the cultivation of his own mind. Government, morals, religion, and letters, were his constant pursuits. He frequently convened the national assemblies, for regulating the affairs both of church and state. His attention extended to the most distant corner of his empire, and to all ranks of men. His house was a model of economy, and his person of simplicity and true grandeur. “For shame,” he would say to some of his nobles, who were more finely dressed than the occasion required, “learn to dress like men, and let the world judge of your rank by your merit, not your dress. Leave silks and finery to women, or reserve them for those days of pomp and ceremony when robes are worn for show, not use.” He was fond of the company of learned men, and assembled them from all parts of Europe, forming in his palace a kind of royal academy, of which he condescended to become a member, and of which he made Alcuin, our learned countryman, 1 the head; at the same time honoring him as his companion and particular favorite. “The dignity of his person, the length of his reign, the prosperity of his arms, the vigor of his government, and the reverence of distant nations, distinguish Charles from the royal crowd: and Europe dates a new era from his restoration of the western empire.” But with all these amiable traits in the character of Charles the Great (or Charlemagne, as he is usually called) a superstitious attachment to the see of Rome, unhappily mingled itself with all his policy, and led him to engage in theological disputes and quibbles unworthy of his character. 3 It would have been well for his memory, indeed, had he stopped there; but a blind zeal for the propagation of Christianity, which extinguished his natural feelings, made him guilty of severities which shock humanity. One of the leading objects of his reign, was the conversion of the Saxons, a nation of Germany, to the Christian faith. He seems to have considered a reception of the mild doctrines of Christianity as the best means of taming a savage people, and to accomplish this he sent his armies to invade their country. After a number of battles gallantly fought, and many cruelties committed on both sides, the Saxons were totally subjected; but as they were no less tenacious of their religious than of their civil liberty, persecution marched in the train of war, and stained with blood the fetters of slavery. Four thousand five hundred of their principal men, because they refused, on a particular occasion, to give up their celebrated general, Witikind, were ordered to be massacred — an instance of severity scarcely to be paralleled in the history of mankind, especially if we consider that the Saxons were not the natural subjects of Charles, but an independent people struggling for freedom. He compelled the Saxons, under pain of death , to receive baptism; condemned to the severest punishments the breakers of Lent, and every where substituted force for persuasion.

As the little learning which, at that period, remained among mankind, was monopolized by the clergy, it cannot excite our surprise that they obtained the most signal marks of his favor. He established the payment of tithes, and admitted the clergy into the national assemblies, associating them with the secular nobles in the administration of justice; in return for which, they honored him with the most marked distinctions, permitting him to sit in councils purely ecclesiastical. Accordingly, in the year 794, we find him seated on a throne in the council of Frankfort, with one of the pope’s legates on each hand, and three hundred bishops waiting his nod.

The object of that council was to investigate the sentiments of two Spanish bishops, who, to refute the accusation of Polytheism, brought against the Christians by the Jews and Mahommedans, gave up the proper divinity of Jesus Christ, and maintained that he was the Son of God only by adoption. The monarch opened the assembly, and proposed the condemnation of this heresy. The council decided conformably to his will; and in a letter to the churches of Spain, in consequence of that decision, Charles expressed himself in these remarkable words: “You entreated me to judge of myself; I have done so. I have assisted as an auditor and an arbiter in an assembly of bishops; we have examined; and by the grace of God, we have settled what must be believed!”

It was during the reign of Charles the Great, that the empress Irene convened the second council of Nice for the purpose of re-establishing the use of images, which Leo IV. and his son Constantine Copronymus had exerted themselves so much to suppress. That council accordingly decreed that we ought to render to images an honorary worship, but not a real adoration, the latter being due to God alone. Whether designedly or not, but so it was, that in the translation of the Acts of this council, which pope Adrian sent into France, the meaning of the article which respected images was entirely perverted, for it ran thus: “I receive and honor images according to that adoration which I pay to the Trinity.” Charles was so shocked at this impiety, that in the effervescence of his zeal, and with the aid of the clergy, he drew up a treatise, called the Caroline books, in which he treated the Nicene council with the utmost contempt and abuse. He transmitted his publication to Adrian, desiring him to excommunicate the empress and her son. The pope excused himself on the score of images, rectifying the mistake upon which Charles had proceeded; but at the same time insinuated, that he would declare Irene and Constantine heretics, unless they restored some lands which formerly belonged to the church.

He also took the opportunity of hinting at certain projects which he had formed for the exaltation of the Romish church, and of the French monarchy. 4 “I cannot,” said he, “after what the council of Nice has done, declare Irene and her son heretics; but I shall declare them to be such, if they do not restore to me my patrimony in Sicily.”

In the year 796, Leo III. who had succeeded Adrian in the papacy, transmitted to Charles the Roman standard, requesting him to send some person to receive the oath of fidelity from the Romans, an instance of submission with which that monarch was highly flattered. Accordingly in the year 800, we find Charles at Rome, where he passed six days in private conferences with the pope. On Christmas day, as the king assisted at mass in St. Peter’s church, in the midst of the ecclesiastical ceremonies, and while upon his knees before the altar, the pope advanced and put an imperial crown upon his head. As soon as the people perceived it, they exclaimed, “Long life and victory to Charles Augustus, crowned by the hand of God! Long live the great and pious emperor of the Romans.” The supreme pontiff then conducted him to a magnificent throne, which had been prepared for the occasion, and as soon as he was seated, paid him those honors which his predecessors had been accustomed to pay to the Roman emperors. Leo now presented him with the imperial mantle, on being invested with which, Charles returned to his palace amidst the acclamations of the multitude.

Favors such as these that were conferred by the pontiff on the French monarch, imperiously called for an adequate return, and it is due to Charlemagne to say that he was by no means deficient in gratitude. His name, and those of his successors, are consecrated as the saviors and benefactors of the Roman church. The Greek emperor had abdicated or forfeited his right to the exarchate of Ravenna, and the sword of Pepin, the father of Charles, had no sooner wrested it from the grasp of Astolphus, than he conferred it on the Roman pontiff, as a recompense “for the remission of his sins and the salvation of his soul.” The splendid donation was granted in supreme and absolute dominion, and the world then beheld, for the first time, a Christian bishop invested with the prerogatives of a temporal prince; the choice of magistrates, and the exercise of justice; the imposition of taxes, and the wealth of the palace of Ravenna. “Perhaps,” says Gibbon, “the humility of a Christian priest should have rejected an earthly kingdom which it was not easy for him to govern without renouncing the virtues of his profession.” I feel no disposition to controvert the justice of this remark; but humility does not appear to have been a very prominent trait in the characters of the Roman pontiffs; and the profuse liberality of the French kings, at this time, was not much calculated to promote it among them. By their bounty, the ancient patrimony of the church, which consisted of farms and houses, was converted into the temporal dominion of cities and provinces. The cities and islands which had formerly been annexed to the exarchate of Ravenna, were now also, by the gratitude of Charles, yielded to the pope, to enlarge the circle of the ecclesiastical state; and the new emperor lived to behold in his ecclesiastical ally, a greatness which, in the cool moments of reflection, he was unable to contemplate without jealousy. But Charles died in the year 814, at Aix-la-Chapelle, his usual residence, in the seventy-second year of his age, and the forty-sixth of his reign. He had previously associated his son Louis with him in the administration of government; and, as if this great man had foreseen the approaching usurpations of the church, he placed the imperial crown upon the altar, and ordered the prince to put it on his own head, thereby intimating that he held it only of God.

The young prince, though very amiable in his disposition and manners, appears to have been much inferior to his father in strength of mind. I have already had occasion to mention him in a former section as the friend and patron of Claude of Turin. His piety and parental fondness are praised by historians, but his abilities were inadequate to the support of so great a weight of empire. He rendered himself odious to the clergy, by attempting to reform certain abuses among them, not foreseeing that this powerful body would not pay the same deference to his authority, which had been yielded to the superior capacity of his father. Three years after his accession to the throne, he admitted his eldest son, Lothaire, to a participation of the French and German territories, declared his son Pepin, king of Aquitaine, and Louis king of Bavaria. This division gave offense to his nephew, Bernard, at that time king of Italy, who revolted, and levied war against his uncle, in contempt of his imperial authority, to which he was subject — a rebellious conduct, in which he was encouraged by the archbishop of Milan and the bishop of Cremona. Louis, on this occasion, acted with rigor. He raised a powerful army, and was preparing to cross the Alps, when Bernard was abandoned by his troops, and the unfortunate prince, being made prisoner, was condemned to lose his head. His uncle mitigated the sentence to the loss of his eyes, but the unhappy prince died three days after the punishment was inflicted; and Louis, to prevent future troubles, ordered three natural sons of Charlemagne to be shut up in a convent.

In a little time the emperor was seized with keen remorse for his conduct.

He accused himself of the murder of his nephew, and of tyrannic cruelty to his brothers. In this melancholy humor he was encouraged by the monks; and it at last grew to such a height, that he impeached himself in an assembly of the states, and requested the bishops to enjoin him public penance. The clergy, now sensible of his weakness, set no bounds to their usurpations. The popes concluded that they might do any thing under so pious a prince. They did not wait for the emperor’s confirmation of their election; the bishops exalted themselves above the throne, and the whole fraternity of the Catholic clergy claimed an exemption from all civil jurisdiction. Even the monks, while they pretended to renounce the world, seemed to aspire to the government of it.

In the year 822, the three sons of Louis were associated in a rebellion against their father, — an unnatural crime, in which they were encouraged by some of the reigning clergy. The emperor, abandoned by his army, was made prisoner; and in all probability would have lost his crown had not the nobility pitied their humbled sovereign, and by sowing dissension among the three brothers, contrived to restore him to his dignity. In 832, the three brothers formed a new league against their father, and Gregory IV. then pope, went to France in the army of Lothaire, the eldest brother, under pretense of accommodating matters, but in reality with an intention of employing against the emperor that power which he derived from him, happy in the opportunity of asserting the supremacy and independence of the Holy See. The presence of the pope, in those days of superstition, was of itself sufficient to determine the fate of Louis. After a deceitful negotiation, and an interview with Gregory on the part of Lothaire, the unfortunate emperor found himself at the mercy of his rebellious sons. He was deposed in a tumultuous assembly, and Lothaire proclaimed in his stead; after which infamous transaction the pope returned to Rome.

To give stability to this revolution, and at the same time to conceal the deformity of their own conduct, the bishops of Lothaire’s faction had recourse to a curious artifice. “A penitent,” said they, “is incapable of all civil offices; a royal penitent must therefore be incapable of reigning; let us subject Louis to a perpetual penance, and he can never reascend the throne.” He was accordingly arraigned in an assembly of the states, by Ebbo, archbishop of Rheims, and condemned to do penance for life.

Louis was then prisoner in a monastery at Soissons, and being greatly intimidated, he patiently submitted to a ceremony no less solemn than degrading, lie prostrated himself on a hair cloth, which was spread before the altar, and owned himself guilty of the charges brought against him, in the presence of many bishops, canons, and monks — Lothaire being also present, that he might enjoy the sight of his father’s humiliation. Nor was this all; the degraded emperor was compelled to read aloud a written confession, in which he was made to accuse himself of sacrilege and murder; and to enumerate among his crimes, the marching of troops in Lent, calling an assembly on Holy Thursday, and taking up arms to defend himself against his rebellious children! So easy is it for superstition to transform into crimes the most innocent, and even the most necessary actions. After having made this humiliating confession, Louis, at the command of the archbishop, laid aside his sword and belt, divested himself of his royal robes, put on the penitential sackcloth, and retired to the cell that was assigned him.

But the feelings of nature, and the voice of humanity, at length prevailed over the prejudices of the age and the policy of the clergy. Lothaire became an object of general abhorrence, and his father of compassion. His two brothers united against him, in behalf of that father whom they had contributed to humble. The nobility returned to their obedience, paying homage to Louis as their lawful sovereign; and the ambitious Lothaire was obliged to crave mercy in the sight of the whole army, at the feet of a parent and an emperor, whom he had lately insulted. Louis died in the year 840 near Mentz, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, and the twentyseventh of his reign, leaving to his unnatural son Lothaire a crown, a sword, and a very rich scepter. The bishop of Mentz observing that he had left nothing to his son Louis, reminded him that at the least, forgiveness was his duty; “Yes, I forgive him,” cried the dying prince, with great emotion; “but tell him from me that he ought to seek forgiveness of God, for bringing my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave.” Lothaire succeeded his father in the imperial dignity, and, after a reign of fifteen years, took the habit of a monk, that, according to the language of those times, he might atone for his crimes, and though he had lived a tyrant, die a saint. In this pious disguise he expired, before he had worn it a week.

His father Louis, by a second marriage, had a son who was afterwards known by the name of Charles the Bald. At the time of his father’s death he was only seventeen years of age; but his father, in bequeathing the empire to Lothaire, had stipulated for a portion of territory to his youngest child, and the former to fulfill the wishes of his indulgent father and intreaties of a fond mother, consented to resign to him a part of his territories. But scarcely was Charles warm in his seat, when he conspired with his brother Louis to dispossess Lothaire of the empire. Here fraternal hatred appeared in all its horrors. A battle was fought at Fontenoy, in Burgundy, than which, few engagements that are upon record were more bloody; for 100,000 men are said to have fallen on the spot. 6 Lothaire was defeated, and obliged to abandon France to the armies of his victorious brothers. To secure their conquest the latter applied to the clergy, and with the more confidence of success, as Lothaire, in order to raise his troops with greater expedition, had promised the Saxons the liberty of renouncing Christianity, the very idea of which was abhorred by the church of Rome. The bishops assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle, and after examining the misconduct of the emperor, inquired of the two princes, whether they chose to follow his example, or to govern according to the laws of God — by which they meant, in enforcing Christianity upon the Saxons. Their answer may be easily anticipated. “Receive then the kingdom by the divine authority,” added the prelates: “we exhort you, we command you to receive it.” But Lothaire, by means of his indulgence to the Saxons, and other expedients, was enabled to raise a new army, and to recover his throne. Nothing is more clear, than that the clergy now aspired to the right of disposing of crowns, which they founded on the ancient Jewish practice of anointing kings. They had recourse to the most miserable fictions and sophisms to render themselves independent. They refused to take the oath of fidelity, “because sacred hands could not, without abomination, submit to hands impure!” One usurpation led to another; abuse constituted right — a quibble appeared a divine law. Ignorance sanctified every thing, and the most enormous usurpations of the clergy obtained a ready sanction from the slavish superstition of the laity. One very popular argument which the former much insisted on was, that the splendor of their dignity was to the majesty of the emperors and kings as the effulgence of the sun to the borrowed light of the moon; and therefore they demanded and extorted from crowned heads the most extravagant marks of respect and the most debasing humiliations. They trumped up a collection of forged acts, known at present by the name of “TheDECRETALS,” spurious writings, in which are supposed the existence of ancient canons, ordaining that no provincial council shall be held without the permission of the pope; and that all ecclesiastical causes shall be under his jurisdiction. The words of the immediate successors of the apostles are also therein quoted, and they are supposed to have left writings behind them. All these being written in the wretched style of the eighth century, and the whole filled with blunders of the grossest kind, both historical and geographical, the artifice was sufficiently apparent; but they had only ignorant persons to deceive. These false decretals imposed upon mankind for eight hundred years, and though the fraud was at length detected, the customs established by them still subsist in some countries: their antiquity supplied the place of truth! The papal chair was filled about the middle of the ninth century by Nicholas I. one of the most obstinate, inflexible, and ambitious prelates that ever disgraced the priesthood. Even his own clergy, the bishop of Treves and Cologne accused him of making himself emperor of the world , an expression which, though somewhat strained, was not wholly without foundation. He asserted his dominion over the French clergy, and received appeals from all ecclesiastics, dissatisfied with their bishops. Hence he taught the people to acknowledge a supreme tribunal at a distance from their own country, and of course a foreign sway. He issued his orders in the most authoritative style, to regulate the disputed succession to the kingdom of Provence. “Let no one prevent the emperor,” says he, “from governing the kingdoms which he holds in virtue of a succession confirmed by the holy see, and by the crown which the sovereign pontiff has set on his head.”

It is, however, pleasing to find that, deplorable as was the state of things, this domineering conduct of the popes did not always go without remonstrance, even from some of the clergy themselves. Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims, for example, about the year 875, raised his voice in the most spirited manner against the arrogant pretensions of Adrian II. the successor of Nicholas. This bold and independent prelate desired the pope to call to mind that respect and submission which the ancient pontiffs had always paid to princes, and to reflect that his dignity gave him no right over the government of kingdoms; that he could not be at the same time pope and king: that the choice of a sovereign belongs to the people; that anathemas ill applied have no effect upon the soul; and that free men are not to be enslaved by a bishop of Rome. 8 But the voice of an individual is easily drowned in the clamors of a mob. The evil proceeded in defiance of the expostulation of Hincmar. About the year 877, Pope John VIII. convened a council at Troyes in France, one of the canons of which is sufficiently remarkable to be adduced as a specimen of the spirit of the times. It expressly asserts, that “the powers of the world shall not dare to seat themselves in the presence of the bishops, unless desired.”

To dwell minutely upon this subject, and to illustrate the reign of the antichristian power by a copious detail of historical facts, though an easy task, would require more room than can be conveniently allotted to such a discussion in this sketch. The reader will probably be satisfied with this concise detail. Indeed, all our historians, civil and ecclesiastical, agree in describing the tenth century of the Christian era as the darkest epoch in the annals of mankind. “The history of the Roman pontiffs that lived in this [tenth] century,” says the learned Mosheim, “is a history of so many monsters, and not of men; and exhibits a horrible series of the most flagitious, tremendous, and complicated crimes, as all writers, even those of the Romish communion, unanimously confess.” Nor was the state of things much better in the Greek church at this period; as a proof of which, the same learned writer instances the example of Theophylact, patriarch of Constantinople, “This exemplary prelate, who sold every ecclesiastical benefice as soon as it became vacant, had in his stable above two thousand hunting horses, which he fed with pignuts, pistachios, dates, dried grapes, figs steeped in the most exquisite wines, to all which he added the richest perfumes. One Holy Thursday, as he was celebrating high mass, his groom brought him the joyful news that one of his favorite mares had foaled; upon which he threw down the Liturgy, left the church, and ran in rapture to the stable, where having expressed his joy at that grand event, he returned to the altar to finish the divine service, which he had left interrupted during his absence.” To avoid the necessity of recurring to a topic so replete with every thing that can excite disgust in the mind of a humble Christian, I shall take leave of it by a short review of the state of things as they existed in the middle of the eleventh century.

In the year 1056, Henry IV. surnamed the Great, though only five years old, ascended the throne of his father as emperor of Germany. During the first years of his reign, the empire was harassed with civil wars, and Italy was a prey to intestine disorders. Nicholas II. then filled the pontifical chair; and he caused a council to be convened which consisted of a hundred and thirteen bishops, who passed a decree, by which it was ordained, that in future the cardinals only should elect the pope, and that the election should be confirmed by the rest of the Roman clergy and the people, “saving the honor,” it was added, “due to our dear son Henry, now king; and who, if it please God, shall one day be emperor, according to the privilege which we have already conferred upon him ; and saving the honor of his successors, on whom the apostolic see shall confer the same high privilege .

There resided at this time at Rome, one Hildebrand, a monk of the order of Cluny, who had recently been created a cardinal; a man of a restless, fiery, and enterprising disposition; but chiefly remarkable for his furious zeal for the pretensions of the church. He was born at Soana in Tuscany, of obscure parents, brought up at Rome, and had been frequently employed by that court to manage various political concerns which required dexterity and resolution, and he had rendered himself famous in all parts of Italy for his zeal and intrepidity. Hildebrand had interest enough to procure himself to be elected to the pontifical chair, in the year 1073, by the title of Gregory VII. and the papacy has not produced a more extraordinary character. “All that the malice or flattery of a multitude of writers have said of this pope, is concentrated in a portrait of him drawn by a Neapolitan artist, in which Gregory is represented as holding a crook in one hand, and a whip in the other, trampling scepters under his feet, with St. Peter’s net and fishes on either side of him.” 10 Gregory was installed by the people of Rome, without consulting the emperor, as had hitherto been customary; but though Henry had not been consulted upon the occasion, Gregory prudently waited for his confirmation of the choice before he assumed the tiara. He obtained it by this mark of submission: the emperor confirmed his election, and the new pontiff was not dilatory in pulling off the mask, for in a little time he raised a storm which fell with violence upon the head of Henry, and shook all the thrones in Christendom. He began his pontificate with excommunicating every ecclesiastic who should receive a benefice from a layman, and every layman by whom such benefice should be conferred. This was engaging the church in an open war with all the sovereigns of Europe. But the thunder of the holy see was more particularly directed against Henry, who, sensible of his danger and anxious to avert it, wrote a submissive letter to Gregory, and the latter pretended to take him into favor, after severely reprimanding him for the crimes of simony and debauchery, of which he now confessed himself guilty. The pope at the same time proposed a crusade, the object of which was to deliver the holy sepulcher at Jerusalem from the hands of the Turkish infidels; offering to head the Christians in person, and desiring Henry to serve as a volunteer under his command!

Gregory next formed the project of making himself lord of Christendom, by at once dissolving the jurisdiction which kings and emperors had hitherto exercised over various orders of the clergy, and subjecting to the papal authority all temporal princes, rendering their dominions tributary to the see of Rome; and however romantic the undertaking may appear, it was not altogether without success. Solomon, king of Hungary, was at that time dethroned by his cousin Geysa, and fled to Henry for protection, renewing his homage to the latter as head of the empire. Gregory, who favored the cause of the usurper, exclaimed against this act of submission, and said in a letter to Solomon, “You ought to know, that the kingdom of Hungary belongs to the Roman church; and learn, that you will incur the indignation of the holy see, if you do not acknowledge that you hold your dominions of the pope, and not of the emperor.” This presumptuous declaration, and the neglect with which it was treated, brought the quarrel between the empire and the church to a crisis: it was directed to Solomon, but intended for Henry.

Hitherto the princes of Christendom had enjoyed the right of nominating bishops and abbots, and of giving them investiture by the ring and crosier.

The popes, on their part, had been accustomed to send legates to the emperors to entreat their assistance, to obtain their confirmation, or to desire them to come and receive papal sanction. Gregory now resolving to push the claim of investitures, sent two of his legates to summon Henry to appear before him as a delinquent, because he still continued to bestow investitures, notwithstanding the papal decree to the contrary: adding, that if he failed to yield obedience to the church, he must expect to be excommunicated and dethroned.

This arrogant message, from one whom he regarded as his vassal, greatly provoked Henry, who abruptly dismissed the legates, and lost no time in convoking an assembly of princes and dignified ecclesiastics at Worms; where after mature deliberation, they came to this conclusion, that Gregory having usurped the chair of St. Peter, by indirect means, infected the church of God with many novelties and abuses, and deviated from his duty to his sovereign in several instances, the emperor, by the supreme authority derived from his predecessors, ought to divest him of his dignity, and appoint a successor. Henry, consequently, sent an ambassador to Rome, with a formal deprivation of Gregory; who, in his turn, convoked a council, at which were present one hundred and ten bishops, who, unanimously agreed, that the pope had just cause to depose Henry, to annul the oath of allegiance which the princes and states had taken in his favor, and to prohibit them from holding any correspondence with him on pain of excommunication. And this execrable sentence was immediately fulminated against the emperor and his adherents. “In the name of Almighty God, and by your authority,” said Gregory, addressing the members of the council, “I prohibit Henry from governing the Teutonic kingdom and Italy. I release all Christians from their oath of allegiance to him; and I strictly forbid all persons to serve or attend him as king.”

This is the first instance of a pope presuming to deprive a sovereign of his crown; but, unhappily, it was too flattering to ecclesiastical pride to be the last. No preceding prelate had hitherto dared to use such imperious language as Gregory; for, though Louis, the son of Charles the Great, had been deposed by his bishops, there was at least some color for that step; they condemned him in appearance only to do public penance.

The circular letters written by Gregory breathe the same spirit as his sentence of deposition. In them he repeatedly asserts, that “bishops are superior to kings, and made to judge them” — expressions equally artful and presumptuous. His object is said to have been that of engaging in the bonds of fidelity and allegiance to the pope as vicar of Christ, all the potentates of the earth, and to establish at Rome an annual assembly of bishops, by whom the contests which, from time to time, might arise between kingdoms and sovereign states were to be decided, the rights and pretensions of princes to be examined, and the fate of nations and empires determined. Gregory well knew what consequences would result from the thunders of the church. The bishops in Germany immediately came over to his party, and drew with them many of the nobles. The Saxons took the opportunity of revolting: even the emperor’s favorite, Guelf, a nobleman to whom he had given the duchy of Bavaria, supported the mal-contents with that very power which he owed to his sovereign’s bounty; and the princes and prelates who had assisted in deposing Gregory, gave up their monarch to be tried by the pope, who was requested to come to Augsburg for that purpose.

To avoid the odium of this impending trial, Henry took the strange resolution of suddenly passing the Alps, accompanied only by a few domestics, and of throwing himself at the feet of Gregory, in order to implore his absolution. The pontiff was at that time on a visit to the countess or duchess Matilda, at Canosa, a fortress on the Appenines. At the gate of this mansion, the emperor presented himself as an humble penitent. He alone was admitted within the outer court, where, being stripped of his robes, and wrapped in sackcloth, he was compelled to remain three days, in the month of January (A.D. 1077,) barefoot and fasting, before he was permitted to kiss the feet of his holiness! The indulgence was, however, at length granted him — he was permitted to throw himself at the feet of the haughty pontiff, who condescended to grant him absolution, after he had sworn obedience to the pope in all things, and promised to submit to his solemn decision at Augsburgh; so that Henry reaped nothing but disgrace and mortification from his journey, while the pontiff, elate with triumph, and now considering himself as the lord and master of all the crowned heads in Christendom, said in several of his letters, that “it was his duty to pull down the pride of kings.”

Happily for Henry, all sense of propriety and of common decency was not banished from the earth. The princes of Italy were disgusted with the strange accommodation that had taken place between him and the pope.

They never could forgive the insolence of the former, nor the abject humility of the latter. But their indignation at Gregory’s arrogance overbalanced their detestation of their monarch’s meanness. He took advantage of this temper, and, by a change of fortune hitherto unknown to the German emperors, found a strong party in Italy, when abandoned by his own subjects. All Lombardy took up arms against the pope, while the latter was raising all Germany against the emperor. The former had recourse to every art to procure the election of another emperor in Germany, while Henry, on his part, left nothing undone to persuade the people of Italy to choose another pope. The Germans chose Rodolph, duke of Suabia, who was solemnly crowned at Mentz; and this gave Gregory an opportunity of exercising all his finesse in order to extort submission from Henry. He affected to be displeased that Rodolph was consecrated without his order. He had deposed Henry, but it was still in his power to pardon him — he therefore declared that he would acknowledge as emperor and king of Germany that claimant who should be most submissive to the holy see.

But Henry was not now to be duped. He chose rather to trust to the valor of his arms than to the generosity of the pope, and therefore marched his troops against his rival Rodolph, whom he defeated in several engagements. Gregory, seeing no hopes of submission, thundered out a second sentence of excommunication, in which, after depriving Henry of strength in combat , and condemning him never to be victorious — he desires the world to take notice that it is in the pope’s power to take away empires, kingdoms, principalities, etc. and to bestow them on whom he pleases. The whole concludes with the following extraordinary apostrophe to the apostles, Peter and Paul: “Make all men sensible that, as you can bind and loose every thing in heaven, you can also upon earth, take from or give to, every one according to his deserts, empires, kingdoms, principalities. Let the kings and princes of the age instantly feel your power, that they may not dare to despise the orders of your church; and let your justice be so speedily executed upon Henry, that nobody may doubt of his falling by your means and not by chance.” But the apostles were either deaf to the prayer of their pretended successor, or declined their co-operation with it. Henry triumphed over his enemies. Rodolph had his hand cut off in a battle which was fought with great fury near Mersburgh, in Saxony, and, discouraged by the misfortune of their chief, his followers gave way. Rodolph, perceiving his end approaching, ordered the amputated member to be brought him, and thus addressed his officers. “Behold the hand with which I took the oath of allegiance to Henry — an oath which, at the instigation of Rome, I have violated, in perfidiously aspiring to an honor that was not due to me.”

The affairs of Henry now revived apace. A new pope was elected, who took the title of Clement III. and the emperor, thus delivered from his formidable antagonist, soon dispersed the rest of his enemies in Germany, and proceeded to Italy, to settle the new pontiff in the papal chair. The gates of Rome being shut against him, he was compelled to attack the city in form. After a siege of two years, it was taken by assault, and with difficulty saved from pillage, but Gregory retired into the castle of St.

Angelo, from whence he hurled defiance, and fulminated his thunder against the conqueror. The siege of St. Angelo was now prosecuted with vigor, but in the absence of Henry, Gregory found means to escape, and died soon after at Salerno, A.D. 1085. His last words were, “I have loved justice and hated iniquity; therefore I die in exile.” But the troubles of Henry did not terminate with the life of Gregory. The pontiffs who succeeded proved as inimical to his peace and tranquillity as their predecessor had been. Urban II. contrived, in conjunction with the countess Matilda, to seduce the emperor’s son into a rebellion against his father. This young prince, whose name was Conrad, assumed the title of king of Italy, and succeeded so well in his usurpation, that the greater part of the cities of Italy and their nobles acknowledged him as their sovereign.

The emperor, despairing of being able to reduce him to obedience by arms, assembled the German princes, who put the delinquent to the ban of the empire, 14 and declared his brother Henry king of the Romans. Two years afterwards both Conrad and the pope died — the latter being succeeded in the papal chair by Pascal II. (another Gregory) and the former by his younger brother Henry as king of Italy.

The new pope was scarcely invested with office ere he contrived to excite young Henry to rebel against his father. He called a council, to which he summoned the aged monarch; and as the latter did not obey the citation, he excommunicated him for the schisms which he had introduced into the church; stimulating his son to rebellion, by alleging that he was bound to take upon himself the reins of government, as he could not acknowledge an excommunicated king or father. In vain did the emperor use every paternal remonstrance to dissuade his son from proceeding to extremities; the breach became wider, and each prepared for the decision of the sword. But the son, dreading his father’s superiority, and confiding in his tenderness, had recourse to a stratagem as base as it was effectual. He threw himself unexpectedly at the emperor’s feet, and implored pardon for his undutiful behavior, which he attributed to the influence of evil counselors. In consequence of this submission, he was taken into favor by his indulgent parent, who instantly dismissed his army. The ungrateful youth now revealed the perfidy that was in his heart; he ordered his father to be confined — assembled a diet of his own confederates, at which the pope’s legate presided, and repeated the sentence of excommunication against the emperor, whose dignity was instantly transferred to his rebellious son.

The archbishops of Mentz and Cologne were sent as deputies to the old emperor, to intimate his deposition and demand his regalia . Henry received this deputation with equal surprise and concern; and finding that the chief accusation against him was “the scandalous manner in which he had set bishopricks to sale,” he thus addressed the audacious ecclesiastics: “If I have prostituted the benefices of the church for hire, you, yourselves, are the most proper persons to convict me of that simony. Say then, I conjure you in the name of the eternal God! what have I exacted, or what have I received, for having promoted you to the dignities that you now enjoy?” They acknowledged that he was innocent, so far as regarded their preferments. “And yet,” continued he, “the archbishops of Mentz and Cologne, being two of the best in my gift, I might have filled my coffers by exposing them to sale. I bestowed them, however, upon you, out of free grace and favor, and a worthy return you make to my benevolence! Do not, I beseech you, become abettors of those who have lifted up their hands against their lord and master in defiance of faith, gratitude, and allegiance.”

As the unfeeling prelates, deaf to this pathetic address, insisted on his compliance with the object of their mission, Henry retired, and put on his regal ornaments; then returning to the apartment he had left, and seating himself on a chair of state, he renewed his remonstrance in these words: “Here are the marks of that royalty with which I was invested by God, and the princes of the empire; if you disregard the wrath of heaven, and the eternal reproach of mankind, so much as to lay violent hands on your sovereign, you may strip me of them, I am not in a condition to defend myself.”

Regardless of these expostulations, the two archbishops snatched the crown from his head, and dragging him from his chair, forcibly pulled off his robes. While thus employed, Henry exclaimed, “Great God! (the tears flowing down his venerable cheeks) thou art the God of vengeance, and wilt repay this outrage. I have sinned, I own, and merited such shame by the follies of my youth; but thou wilt not fail to punish those traitors for their violence, ingratitude, and perjury.”

To such a degree of wretchedness was this prince afterwards reduced by the barbarity of his son, that, destitute of the common necessaries of life, he entreated the bishop of Spire, whom he had promoted to that see, to grant him a canonry for his subsistence, representing that he was capable of performing the office of “chanter or reader.” Disappointed in that humble request, he shed a flood of tears, and turning to those who were present, said, with a deep sigh, “My dear friends , at least have pity upon my condition , for I am touched by the hand of the Lord .”

Yet in the midst of these distresses, when every one thought his courage was utterly extinguished, and his soul overwhelmed by despondence, Henry found means to escape from custody and reached Cologne, where he was recognized as lawful emperor. Repairing next to the Netherlands, he found friends who raised a considerable body of men to assert his claims, and facilitate his restoration; he also issued circular letters, calling upon the princes of Christendom to interest themselves in his cause. He even wrote to the pope, intimating that he was inclined to an accommodation, provided it could be settled without prejudice to his cause. But before any thing material could be executed in his favor, Henry died at Leige (Aug. 7, 1106) in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and the forty-ninth of his reign. He was a prince of great courage and excellent endowments both of body and mind. In his appearance there was an air of dignity which spoke the greatness of his soul. He possessed a natural fund of eloquence and vivacity, his temper was placid and merciful, his kindness and benevolence extensive, and his life exhibited an admirable pattern of fortitude and resignation. 15 SECTION Sketch of the state of the Christian profession from the death of Claude of Turin to the times of Peter Waldo.

A.D. 843-1160 DURING the dark ages which succeeded the invasion of Europe by the barbarous nations, when feudal anarchy distracted the civil governments, and a flood of superstition had deluged the church, Christianity, banished from the seats of empire, and loathing the monkish abodes of indolence and vice, meekly retired into the sequestered valleys of Piedmont. Finding there a race of men unarrayed in hostile armor, uncontaminated by the doctrines and commandments of an apostate church, unambitious in their temper, and simple in their manners, she preferred their society, and among them took up her abode. The turbulence of the times, which drove many from the more fertile plains of France and Italy, in search of freedom and tranquillity, greatly augmented the population of this remote district; and, in the ninth century, the doctrine of the kingdom of heaven had been held forth among them with considerable clearness and ability by Claude, bishop of Turin. Remote from the influence of noisy parties, and little conversant with literature, we can scarcely expect any notice of them, until their increase and prosperity excited the attention of ambition and avarice, and occasioned it to be rumored in the neighboring ecclesiastical states, that a numerous people occupied the southern valleys of the Alps, whose faith and practice differed from those of the Romish church; who paid no tithes, offered no mass, worshipped no saints, nor had recourse to any of the prescribed means for redeeming their souls from purgatory.

The archbishops of Turin, Milan, and other cities, heard this report with anxiety, and the necessary measures were accordingly adopted for ascertaining its truth or falsehood; the former turning out to be the result, and finding that these people were not to be controlled by the authority and denunciations of the church of Rome, the aid of the civil power was demanded. The princes and nobles of the adjacent countries at first refused to disturb them; they had beheld with pleasure their simple manners, their uprightness and integrity, their readiness to oblige, and their fidelity in the discharge of all the duties of civil and social life. The clamor of the Romish clergy, however, ultimately prevailed, and the civil power was armed against the peaceable and inoffensive inhabitants of the valleys. Scaffolds were erected and fires kindled at Turin and other cities around them. The fortitude and confidence of the martyrs, however, increased as their faith and constancy were tried. “Favor me,” said Catalan Girard, who was one of their number, as he sat upon the funeral pile at Reuel — “favor me with those two flint stones,” which he saw near him. Being handed to him, he added, as he threw them to the ground, “Sooner shall I eat these stones, than you shall be able by persecution to destroy the religion for which I die.” Multitudes, however, fled like innocent and defenseless sheep from these devouring wolves. They crossed the Alps; and traveled in every direction as Providence and the prospect of safety conducted them, into Germany, England, France, Italy, and other countries. There they trimmed their lamps and shone with new lustre. Their worth every where drew attention, and their doctrine formed increasing circles around them. The storm which threatened their destruction, only scattered them as the precious seeds of the future glorious reformation of the Christian church. In the present section, we shall endeavor to mark their dispersions into different countries, and the treatment they met with during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, prior to the appearance of Peter Waldo of Lyons.

Our materials of information are scanty, and even those we must be content to receive chiefly from their implacable enemies; but by a little patient research, and the aid of a discriminating judgment in selecting the probable from the fictitious, we shall be furnished with some interesting information relative to this obscure portion of their history.

But before we proceed, it may be proper to remark, that about the middle of the eleventh century, and during the pontificate of Pope Leo IX. (A.D. 1050) rose upBERENGARIUS, a person of great learning and talents, who denied the doctrine of the real presence , as it was then commonly termed; and by writing against it, called forth all the learned of the church of Rome to defend the doctrine of transubstantiation. Berengarius was a native of France, educated under Fulhert, bishop of Chartras, a very learned man; and taking orders in the church, became deacon of St. Maurice, and ultimately archbishop of Angers, in the province of Anjou. He was also principal of the academy of Tours. The prevalent sentiment of his day relative to the eucharist was, that the bread was the identical body, and the wine the very blood of Christ — not only figuratively, but substantially and properly. Berengarius, on the contrary, insisted that the body of Christ is only in the heavens; and that the elements of bread and wine are merely the symbols of his body and blood. Several of the bishops wrote against him, most bitterly complaining of his heresy; but not feeling the force of their arguments, Berengarius remained unmoved, and defended his opinions with the utmost pertinacity. He wrote a letter on the subject to Lanfrank, who was at that time at the head of the convent of St. Stephens, at Caen, in Normandy, and called from thence by William the Conqueror to be archbishop of Canterbury, which being opened while the latter was from home, was officiously transmitted by the convent to Pope Leo. The pontiff, shocked at its heretical contents, summoned a council at Vercelli, at which Berengarius was commanded to be present. His friends, however, advised him against going, and he consequently sent two persons to attend the council, and answer in his behalf. Lanfrank also was present and pleaded for Berengarius, but the latter was condemned, the two persons who appeared for him imprisoned, and Lanfrank commanded by the Pope to draw up a refutation of the heresy of Berengarius on pain of being himself reputed a heretic; with which injunction he thought it prudent to comply. This example was followed also by the council of Paris, summoned the very same year by Henry I. in which Berengarius and his numerous adherents, were threatened with all sorts of evils both spiritual and temporal — evils which were in part executed against the heretical prelate, for the monarch deprived him of all his revenues. But neither threatenings nor fines, nor the decrees of Synods, could shake the firmness of his mind, or oblige him to retract his sentiments. In the mean while, the opinions of Berengarius were every where spreading rapidly, insomuch that if we may credit cotemporary writers, “his doctrine had corrupted all the English, Italian, and French nations.” Thuanus adds, that “in Germany were many of the same doctrine, and that Bruno, bishop of Treves, banished them all out of his diocese, sparing only their blood.” During the remainder of the life of Leo. IX. Berengarius and his friends enjoyed a temporary respite, but no sooner had Victor II. succeeded to the pontifical chair, than the flame of religious discord was rekindled, and a council was assembled at Tours, in 1055, to examine anew the doctrine of Berengarius.

At this council the famous Hildebrand, who was afterwards created Pope Gregory VII. appeared in the character of legate, and opposed the new doctrine with the utmost vehemence. Berengarius was also present at this assembly, and overawed, by threats rather than convinced by argument, he professed to abandon his opinions, solemnly abjured them in the presence of the council, and made his peace with the church. In this, however, he appears to have been insincere, for soon after this period he taught anew, though with more circumspection, the opinions he had formerly professed.

The account of his perfidy reaching Rome, he was summoned to attend a council which was convened there in 1059, and on this occasion, so terrified was Berengarius, that he declared his readiness to embrace and adhere to the doctrines which that venerable assembly should think proper to impose upon him. A confession of faith was accordingly drawn up, which he publicly signed and ratified by an oath. In that confession the following declaration was contained, — that the bread and wine after consecration were not only a sacrament, but also the real body and blood of Jesus Christ; and that this body and blood were handled by the priests, and consumed by the faithful, not sacramentally, but in reality and truth, as other sensible objects are. This doctrine was so monstrously absurd; it was such an impudent insult upon common sense and the very first principles of reason, that it is impossible it should impose upon the acute mind of Berengarius for a moment, nor could it possibly become the object of his serious belief; and his conduct, almost immediately after, proved that his profession of it was an odious act of dissimulation; for no sooner was he returned into France, than he expressed the utmost detestation and abhorrence of the doctrines he had been obliged to profess at Rome, solemnly abjured them in his discourse and writings; and returned zealously to the profession and defense of his former real opinion.

The controversy, however, was still prolonged during many years, and a multitude of writings on both sides of the question, were continually issuing, and the followers of Berengarius every where increasing. His adversaries now had recourse to the seducing influence of soft and friendly expostulation, to engage him to dissemble anew; or, in other words, to return from his pretended apostasy; but these proved ineffectual. At length, Gregory VII. was raised to the papal chair, a man whose enterprising spirit no difficulties or opposition could discourage. This prelate, resolving to put an end to this wide-spreading controversy, sent an order to Berengarius to repair to Rome in the year 1078. Gregory had a high esteem for the latter, and though to silence the clamors of the multitude he found it necessary to oppose him, he did it with all possible mildness. He permitted Berengarius to draw up a new confession of his faith, and to renounce that which he had formerly sworn to abide by.

This new confession not proving satisfactory to his enraged adversaries, though Gregory himself approved it, a second was drawn up, which was indeed less vague and equivocal, but then it contained all the quintessence of absurdity which characterized the original one; for he now professed to believe, that “the bread and wine were, by the mysterious influences of the holy prayer, and the words of Christ, substantially changed into the true, proper, and vivifying body and blood of Christ.” No sooner had he made this strange declaration than the pope loaded him with caresses and sent him back to France, graced with the most honorable testimonies of his liberality and friendship. Solemn, however, as the declaration had been at Rome, Berengarius had no sooner returned to his residence than he began to compose an elaborate refutation of his last confession, which excited afresh the flames of theological controversy. Berengarius, however, amidst the clamors of his enraged adversaries, from this time observed a profound silence. Disgusted with a controversy in which the first principles of reason were so impudently insulted, and exhausted by an opposition which he was unable to overcome, he abandoned all his worldly concerns and retired into solitude, to pass the remainder of his days in fasting, prayer, and the exercise of piety. “In the year 1088 death put a period to the affliction which he suffered in his retirement, occasioned by a bitter reflection upon the dissimulation he had been guilty of at Rome; leaving behind him, in the minds of the people, a deep impression of his extraordinary sanctity, and his followers were as numerous as his fame was illustrious.” This controversy was too remarkable to be wholly passed over in this place, but having said thus much of it, I now pass on to a more pleasing and profitable subject.

A little before the year 1140, Evervinus, of Stainfield, in the diocese of Cologne, in Germany, addressed a letter to the celebrated Saint Bernard, concerning certain heretics in his neighborhood. This letter has been preserved by Mabillon, and the learned Dr. Allix has furnished us with a translation of it in his Remarks on the Antient Churches of Piedmont, p. 140. A few extracts from it will enable us to form some judgment concerning this class of men. Evervinus was much perplexed in his mind about them; and to obtain a solution of his doubts, he wrote as follows, to the renowned Bernard, whose word, at that time, was as law throughout Christendom. “There have lately been some heretics discovered among us near Cologne, of whom some have with satisfaction returned again to the church. One that was a bishop among them and his companions, openly opposed us in the assembly of the clergy and laity, the lord archbishop himself being present, with many of the nobility, maintaining their heresy from the words of Christ and his apostles. But finding that they made no impression, they desired that a day might be fixed, upon which they might bring along with them men skillful in their faith, promising to return to the church, provided their teachers were unable to answer their opponents; but that otherwise they would rather die than depart from their judgment. Upon this declaration, having been admonished to repent for three days, they were seized by the people in their excess of zeal , and burnt to death ; and, what is most astonishing, they came to the stake, and endured the torment of the flames, not only with patience, but even with joy. In this case, O holy father, were I present with you, I should be glad to ask you, how these members of Satan could persist in their heresy with such constancy and courage as is rarely to be found among the most religious in the faith of Christ. “Their heresy is this: — They say that the church is only among themselves, because they alone follow the ways of Christ, and imitate the apostles, not seeking secular gains, possessing no property, following the pattern of Christ, who was himself perfectly poor, nor permitted his disciples to possess any thing. Whereas ye, say they to us, join house to house, and field to field, seeking the things of this world, — yea, even your monks and regular canons possess all these things — describing themselves as the poor of Christ’s flock, who have no certain abode, fleeing from one city to another, like sheep in the midst of wolves — enduring persecution with the apostles and martyrs; though strict in their manner of life, abstemious, laborious, devout and holy, and seeking only what is needful for bodily sustenance, living as men who are not of the world. But you, say they, lovers of the world, have peace with the world because ye are of it. False apostles, who adulterate the word of God, seeking their own things, have misled you and your ancestors. Whereas we and our fathers having been born and brought up in the apostolic doctrine, have continued in the grace of Christ, and shall continue so to the end. “By their fruits ye shall know them” saith Christ; and our fruits are the footsteps of Christ. The apostolic dignity, say they, is corrupted by engaging itself in secular affairs, while it sits in the chair of Peter. They do not hold the baptism of infants, alleging that passage of the gospel, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” They place no confidence in the intercession of saints; and all things observed in the church which have not been established by Christ himself or his apostles, they call superstitious. They do not admit of any purgatory fire after death, contending that the souls as soon as they depart out of the bodies, do enter into rest, or punishment, proving it from that passage of Solomon, “Which way soever the tree falls, whether to the south or to the north, there it lies,” by which means they make void all the prayers and oblations of believers for the deceased. “We, therefore, beseech you, holy father, to employ your care and watchfulness against these manifold mischiefs; and that you would be pleased to direct your pen against these wild beasts of the reeds, not thinking it sufficient to answer us that the tower of David, to which we may betake ourselves for refuge, is sufficiently fortified with bulwarks, that a thousand bucklers hang on the walls of it, all shields of mighty men. For we desire father, for the sake of us simple ones, and that are slow of understanding, you would be pleased by your study, to gather all these arms into one place, that they may be the more readily found, and more powerful to resist these monsters. I must inform you also, that those of them who have returned to our church, tell us, that they had great numbers of their persuasion scattered almost every where , and that amongst them were many of our clergy and monks . And as for those who were burnt, they, in the defense they made for themselves, told us, that this heresy had been concealed from the time of the martyrs — and that it had existed in Greece and other countries.”

The letter of Evervinus had all the effect upon Bernard that he could desire. The mighty champion immediately prepared himself for the combat. He was then publishing a set of sermons on the Canticles, and in the 65th and 66th of them he enters the lists most vehemently with these heretics. He is extremely offended with them for deriding the Catholics because they baptized infants, and prayed for the dead, and asserted purgatory — condemns their scrupulous refusal to swear at all, which, according to him, was one of their peculiarities — upbraids them with their secrecy in the observance of their religious rites, not considering the necessity which persecution imposed upon them — finds fault with a practice among them of dwelling with women in the same house without being married to them, by which we are no doubt to understand, that they did not think it necessary to solemnize their marriages according to the ceremonies of the church of Rome, though he expresses himself as knowing very little of the manners of the sect; and from the numberless rumors propagated against them, he suspects them of hypocrisy. Yet his testimony in favor of their general conduct seems to overbalance all his invectives. “If,” says he, “you ask them of their faith, nothing can be more Christian; if you observe their conversation, nothing can be more blameless, and what they speak, they prove by deeds. You may see a man, for the testimony of his faith, frequent the church, honor the elders, offer his gift, make his confession, receive the sacrament. What more like a Christian? As to life and manners, he circumvents no man, over-reaches no man, and does violence to no man. He fasts much, and eats not the bread of idleness, but works with his hands for his support. The whole body, indeed, are rustic and illiterate, and all whom I have known of this sect are very ignorant.” Such was the testimony of the great Saint Bernard in their behalf. 6 We have some additional information concerning these people, given us by Egbert, a monk, and afterwards abbot of Schonauge, who tells us that he had often disputed with these heretics, and that he had learned still more of their opinions from those who had through the force of torments and the threat of being burned, renounced their communion. He says, “they are commonly called Cathari, [Puritans ] a sort of people very pernicious to the catholic faith, which, like moths, they corrupt and destroy.” He adds, that they were divided into several sects, and maintained their opinions by the authority of scripture . He takes particular notice of their denying the utility of baptism to infants, which, say they, through their incapacity, avails nothing to their salvation; insisting that baptism ought to be deferred till they come to years of discretion, and that even then those only should be baptized who make a personal profession of faith, and desire it. 7 “They are armed,” says he, “with the words of the holy scripture which in any way seem to favor their sentiments, and with those they know how to defend their errors, and to oppose the catholic truth; though in reality they are wholly ignorant of the true meaning couched in those words, and which cannot be discovered without great judgment. They are increased to great multitudes throughout all countries, to the great danger of the church — for their words eat like a canker, and, like a flying leprosy, runs every way, infecting the precious members of Christ. These, in our Germany we call Cathari; in Flanders they call them Piphles; in French, Tisserands, from the art of weaving, because numbers of them are of that occupation.” Thus by comparing together these several fragments of information, we may acquire some distinct notion of these Cathari. They were a plain, unassuming, harmless, and industrious race of Christians, patiently bearing the cross after Christ, and both in their doctrine and manners condemning the whole system of idolatry and superstition which reigned in the church of Rome, placing true religion in the faith, hope, and obedience of the gospel, maintaining a supreme regard to the authority of God, in his word, and regulating their sentiments and practices by that divine standard. Even in the twelfth century their numbers abounded in the neighborhood of Cologne, in Flanders, the south of France, Savoy, and Milan. “They were increased,” says Egbert, “to great multitudes , THROUGHOUT ALL COUNTRIES,” and although they seem not to have attracted attention in any remarkable degree previous to this period, yet, as it is obvious they could not have sprung up in a day, it is not an unfair inference that they must have long existed as a people wholly distinct from the catholic church, though, amidst the political squabbles of the clergy, it was their good fortune to be almost entirely overlooked.

The same Egbert, speaking of them, says, “Concerning the souls of the dead, they hold this opinion, that at the very instant of their departure out of the body, they go to eternal bliss or endless misery, for they do not admit the belief of the universal church, that there are some purgatory punishments, with which the souls of some of the elect are tried for a time, on account of those sins from which they have not been purified by a plenary satisfaction in this life. On which account they think it superfluous and vain to give alms for the dead and celebrate masses; and they scoff at our ringing of bells, which, nevertheless, for pious reasons, are used in our churches, to give others warning that they may pray for the dead, and to put them in mind of their own death. As for masses, they altogether despise them, regarding them as of no value, for they maintain that the sacerdotal order has entirely ceased in the church of Rome and all other catholic churches, and that true priests are only to be found in their sect.” Throughout the whole of the twelfth century, these people were exposed to severe persecution. The zeal of Galdinus, archbishop of Milan, was roused against them to such a pitch, that after making them the objects of unrelenting persecution, during a period of eight or nine years, he, at length, fell a martyr to his own zeal, dying in the year 1173, in consequence of an illness contracted through the excess of his vehemence in preaching against them.

Towards the middle of the twelfth century, a small society of these Puritans , as they were called by some, or Waldenses , as they are termed by others, or Paulicians , as they are denominated by our old monkish historian, William of Neuburg, made their appearance in England. This latter writer speaking of them, says, “they came originally from Gascoyne, where, being as numerous as the sand of the sea , they sorely infested both France, Italy, Spain, and England.” The following is the account given by Dr. Henry, in his History of Great Britain, vol. 8 p. 338. Oct. ed. of this emigrating party, which, in substance, corresponds with what is said of them by Rapin, Collier, Lyttleton, and other of our writers. “A company, consisting of about thirty men and women, who spoke the German language, appeared in England at this time (1159), and soon attracted the attention of government by the singularity of their religious practices and opinions. It is indeed very difficult to discover with certainty what their opinions were, because they are recorded only by our monkish historians, who speak of them with much asperity. They were apprehended and brought before a council of the clergy at Oxford. Being interrogated about their religion, their teacher, named Gerard, a man of learning, answered in their name, that they were Christians, and believed the doctrines of the apostles. Upon a more particular inquiry, it was found that they denied several of the received doctrines of the church, such as purgatory, prayers for the dead, and the invocation of saints; and refusing to abandon these damnable heresies, as they were called, they were condemned as incorrigible heretics, and delivered to the secular arm to be punished. The king, (Henry II.) at the instigation of the clergy, commanded them to be branded with a red hot iron on the forehead, to be whipped through the streets of Oxford, and, having their clothes cut short by their girdles, to be turned into the open fields, all persons being forbidden to afford them any shelter or relief under the severest penalties. This cruel sentence was executed in its utmost rigor; and, it being the depth of winter, all these unhappy persons perished with cold and hunger. These seem to have been the first who suffered death in Britain, for the vague and variable crime of heresy, and it would have been much to the honor of the country if they had been the last.”

There is an account of the punishing of these Waldenses, in the\parARCHAEOLOGIA, vol. 9, p. 292-305, written by the Rev. Mr. Denne, of Wilmington; from which I shall here give a short extract by way of supplement to the preceding narrative. “These persons,” says he, “having been believers of the essential doctrines of Christianity, (as is admitted by the bishops) and, as it may be inferred from the silence of the historian, that these sectaries were in their manners inoffensive, nothing but the evil spirit of persecution could have prompted their judges to deliver them up to the civil magistrate. It was the more culpable in the prelates, because there was so little ground for an alarm of their propagating with success their peculiar tenets. For though they seem to have resided for some time in England, they only converted one woman of inferior rank, and she was so slightly attached to them, that she was soon prevailed on to recant and forsake their society. And as they were not disturbers of the public peace, it is somewhat strange that the king, whose disposition was humane, should think those people merited branding and exile. But it was during the contest between Henry and Becket, in support of the just rights of the crown, that this occurrence happened; and his hard usage of these foreigners has been attributed to an unwillingness of affording a pretext to the pope and his adherents to charge them with profaneness, or an inattention to the cause of religion. By the council of Tours, held in 1163, princes were exhorted and directed to imprison all heretics within their dominions, and to confiscate their effects. Of this injunction Henry could not be ignorant, and he might be actuated by it to treat the delinquents with more rigor than he otherwise would have done.” Mr. Denne has fixed the sitting of the council at Oxford in the year 1166.

But the Cathari , or Puritans, were not the only sect which, during the twelfth century, appeared in opposition to the superstition of the church of Rome. About the year 1110, in the South of France, in the provinces of Languedoc and Provence, appeared Peter de Bruys, preaching the gospel of the kingdom of heaven, and exerting the most laudable efforts to reform the abuses and remove the superstitions which disfigured the beautiful simplicity of the gospel worship. His labors were crowned with abundant success. He converted a great number of persons to the faith of Christ, and after a most indefatigable ministry of twenty years continuance, he was burnt at St. Giles’s, a city of Languedoc in France, in the year 1130, by an enraged populace, instigated by the clergy, who apprehended their traffic to be in danger from this new and intrepid reformer. His followers were called Petrobrusians; but of his doctrinal sentiments the following are those alone which we can, be sure of at this remote period — That the ordinance of baptism was to be administered only to adults — that it was a piece of idle superstition to build and dedicate churches to the service of God, who in worship has a peculiar respect to the state of the heart, and who cannot be worshipped with temples made by hands — that crucifixes were objects of superstition, and ought to be destroyed — that in the Lord’s supper the real body and blood of Christ were not exhibited, but only represented in the way of symbol or figure — and lastly, that the oblations, prayers, and good works of the living, could in no respect be beneficial to the dead. A few years after the death of Peter Bruys, rose up an Italian by birth, of the name of Henry, said to have been his disciple, and who was the founder of a sect called the Henricians. He had been both a monk and a hermit; but having received the knowledge of the truth, he labored to reform the superstitions of the times. Quitting Lausanne, a city of Switzerland, he traveled to Mans, and being banished from thence, removed successively to Poictiers, Bourdeaux, and other cities in France; and at length, in the year 1147, to Toulouse, preaching the gospel in all those places with the greatest acceptance, and declaiming with vehemence and fervor against the vices of the clergy, and the superstitions introduced by them into the Christian church. At Toulouse he was warmly opposed by the great St. Bernard, that luminary of the Catholic church, who, though he wrote against him with great bitterness, is nevertheless constrained to admit that Henry was a learned man, and greatly respected by his numerous followers. The latter, however, to avoid his fury, was compelled to save himself by flight. He was, nevertheless, seized in his retreat, and carried before Pope Eugenius III. who assembled a council at Rheims, in which he presided in person, and having received a number of accusations against Henry, committed him in the year 1158 to a close prison, in which he soon ended his days. His doctrinal sentiments have not been handed down to us in a manner so full and explicit as could be wished. “All we know is, that he rejected infant baptism; censured with severity the corrupt and licentious manners of the clergy; treated the festivals and ceremonies of the Catholic church with the utmost contempt; and held private assemblies, in which he explained and inculcated his peculiar sentiments.” I feel some hesitation in adding to the list of reformers who arose during this benighted period, the name of Arnold of Brescia, because Mosheim and other writers have described him as a man of a turbulent and impetuous spirit; and, though he is universally allowed to have been possessed of extensive erudition, and remarkable for the austerity of his manners, he is represented by those writers as not confining himself to the apostolic weapons of the Christian warfare. Yet, the spirit of candor and fairness would seem to require that allowance should be made for those exaggerations which the malignity of his enraged adversaries prompted them to vent against him. There are few things more difficult than to combine the leniter in modo with the fortiter in re , and gentleness seems almost incompatible with the zeal of a reformer. I shall, however, adduce a few impartial testimonies to the character of Arnold, and leave the reader to his own reflections on them. The following account of him is given in a recent publication of great merit. “ARNOLD, at an early period of life traveled into France, and became the disciple of the celebrated Abelard. Having imbibed some of the heretical sentiments, and a portion of that freedom of thought, which distinguished his master, he returned to Italy, and in the habit of a monk, began to propagate his opinions in the streets of Brescia. The zeal of this daring reformer was at first directed against the wealth and luxury of the Romish clergy.

Insisting that the kingdom of Christ is not of this world, he maintained that the temporal power of the church was an unprincipled corruption of the rights of secular princes, and that all the corruptions which disgraced the Christian faith, and all the animosities which distracted the church, sprang from the power and overgrown possessions of the clergy. These bold truths were propagated not as mere points of speculation, or as an explanation of the various calamities which then affected the church; they were held as the foundation of a system of reform which the people were excited to carry into execution; and the clergy were called upon to renounce their usurped possessions, and to lead a frugal and abstemious life on the voluntary contributions of the people.

The inhabitants of Brescia were roused by the eloquent appeals of their countryman. They revered him as the apostle of religious liberty, and rose in rebellion against their lawful bishop. The church took alarm at these dangerous commotions, and in a general council of the Lateran, held in 1139, by Innocent II. Arnold was condemned to perpetual silence. He sought for refuge beyond the Alps, and found an hospitable shelter in the Canton of Zurich.

Here he again began his career of reform, and had the ability to seduce from their allegiance the bishop of Constance, and even the pope’s legate. The exhortations of St. Bernard, however, reclaimed these yielding ecclesiastics to a sense of their duty, and Arnold was driven by persecution to hazard the desperate expedient of fixing the standard of rebellion in the very heart of Rome.

Protected, perhaps, if not invited, by the nobles, Arnold harangued the populace with his usual fervor, and inspired them with such a regard for their civil and ecclesiastical rights, that a complete revolution was effected in the city. Innocent struggled in vain against this invasion of his power, and at last sunk under the pressure of calamity. His successors, Celestine and Lucius, who reigned only a few months, were unable to check the popular frenzy. The leaders of the insurrection waited upon Lucius, demanded the restitution of the civil rights which had been usurped from the people, and insisted that his holiness and the clergy should trust only to pious offerings of the faithful. Lucius survived this demand but a few days, and was succeeded by Eugenius III. who, dreading the mutinous spirit of the inhabitants, withdrew from Rome, and was consecrated in a neighboring fortress.

As soon as Arnold was acquainted with the escape of the pontiff, he entered Rome, and animated with new rigor the licentious fury of the populace. He called to their remembrance the achievements of their fore-fathers — he painted in the strongest colors, the sufferings which sprung from ecclesiastical tyranny; and he charged them as men and as Romans, never to admit the pontiff within their walls, till they had prescribed the limits of his spiritual jurisdiction, and fixed the civil government in their own hands.

Headed by the disaffected nobles, the frenzied populace attacked the cardinals and clergy, who still continued in the city. They set fire to the palaces, and forced the inhabitants to swear allegiance to the new system of things.

The Roman pontiff could no longer view with patience the excesses of this ungovernable mob. At the head of his troops, chiefly composed of Tiburtines, he marched against the city, and after some trifling concessions on his part, was reinstated on the papal throne. Notwithstanding the triumph over the malecontents, the friends of Arnold were still numerous, and continued to disturb the peace of the city, till our countryman, Adrian IV. was raised to the chair of St. Peter. On the first appearance of a riot, during which a cardinal was either killed or wounded in the street, Adrian held an interdict over the guilty city, and from Christmas to Easter deprived it of the privilege of religious worship. This bold and sagacious contrivance gave a sudden turn to the minds of the people. Arnold and his followers were banished from the city, and fled for protection to the viscounts of Campania. His holiness, however, was not satisfied with restoring peace to his capital. A spirit of revenge burned within him, till he instigated Frederic Barbarossa to force Arnold from his asylum in Campania. This intrepid reformer was immediately seized by cardinal Gerard in 1155, and was burned alive in the midst of a fickle people, who gazed with stupid indifference on the expiring hero, who had fallen in defense of their dearest rights, and whom they had formerly regarded with more than mortal veneration; his ashes were thrown into the Tiber; but though no corporeal relic could be preserved to animate his followers, the efforts which he made in the cause of civil and religious freedom were cherished in the breasts of future patriots, and inspired those mighty attempts which have chained down and finally destroyed the monster of superstition.

It is impossible not to admire the genius and persevering intrepidity of Arnold. To distinguish truth from error in an age of darkness, and to detect the causes of spiritual corruption in the thickest atmosphere of ignorance and superstition, evinced a mind of more than ordinary stretch. To adopt a plan for recovering the lost glory of his country, and fixing the limits of spiritual usurpation, demanded a degree of resolution which no opposition could control. But to struggle against superstition entrenched in power, to plant the standard of rebellion in the very heart of her empire, and to keep possession of her capital for a number of years, could scarcely have been expected from an individual who had no power but that of his eloquence, and no assistance but what he derived from the justice of his cause. Yet such were the individual exertions of Arnold, which posterity will appreciate as one of the noblest legacies which former ages have bequeathed.

Every triumph that is gained over ecclesiastical power stretched beyond its just limits, in whatever country it is sanctioned, and under whatever system of faith it is exercised, is the triumph of right reason over the worst passions of the heart. It is the greatest step which the human mind can take in its progress to that knowledge and happiness to which the Almighty has destined it to arrive.” “We may truly say,” says Dr. Allix, “that scarcely any man was ever so torn and defamed on account of his doctrine as was this Arnold of Brescia. Would we know the reason of this? It was because, with all his power, he opposed the tyranny and usurpation which the popes began to establish at Rome ever the temporal jurisdiction of the emperors. He was the man who, by his counsel, renewed the design of re-establishing the authority of the senate in Rome, and of obliging the pope not to meddle with any thing but what concerned the government of the church, without invading the temporal jurisdiction: — this was his crime, and this indeed is such an one as is unpardonable with the Pope, if there be any such.” “But there was a still more heinous thing laid to his charge, which was this: Praeter haec de sacramento altaris et baptismo parvulorum , non sane dicitur sensisse ! that is, “He was unsound in his judgment about the sacrament of the altar and infant baptism” — (in other words, he rejected the popish doctrine of transubstantiation and of the baptism of infants.) And this alone was sufficient ground for his condemnation; for as he set himself industriously to oppose the accumulating errors in the church of Brescia, his native place, in which he was supported by\parMAIFREDUS, the consul of that city, accusations against him were transmitted to pope Innocent II. who immediately imposed silence upon him, lest such pernicious doctrine should spread further. On this, Arnold retired from Italy, and settled at Zurich, in the diocese of Constance, where he continued to disseminate his doctrine until the death of the Pope, at which time he returned to Rome.”

Otho Frisingensis, a Catholic bishop, gives the following account of the death of this great man. “Being entered into the city [Rome] and finding it altogether in a seditious uproar against the Pope, he was so far from following the advice of the wise man, not to add fuel to the fire, that he greatly increased it, proposing to the multitude the examples of the ancient Romans, who, by the maturity of their senators’ counsels, and the valor and integrity of their youth, made the world their own. He therefore advised them to rebuild the capital, to restore the dignity of the senate, and reform the order of knights. He maintained that the civil government of the city did not belong to the Pope, who ought to confine himself to matters purely ecclesiastical. And so far did the mischief of this infectious doctrine prevail, that the mob pulled down several of the houses of the nobility and cardinals, treating the latter with personal abuse, and even violence. He could not hope to escape long, after committing so heinous a crime against persons so extremely jealous of their tyranny. “Having persisted for a length of time, incessantly and irreverently, in these and similar enterprises, contemning the sentence of the clergy justly and canonically pronounced against him as altogether void, and of no authority; he at length fell into the hands of some , on the borders of Tuscany, who took him prisoner, and being preserved for the prince’s trial, he was at last, by the praefect of the city, hanged, (Mosheim says he was crucified) and his body burnt to ashes, to prevent the foolish rabble from expressing any veneration for his body, and the ashes of it cast into the Tiber” Such was the end of Arnold of Brescia, whose memory, however, was long and fondly cherished by the people of Rome, whose interests he had so courageously advocated against the tyranny of the popes, and whose hatred he had thereby incurred. His tragical end occasioned deep and loud murmurs; it was regarded as an act of injustice and cruelty, the guilt of which lay upon the bishop of Rome and his clergy, who had been the occasion of it. The disciples of Arnold, who were numerous, and obtained the name of Arnoldists, separated themselves from the communion of the church of Rome, and long continued to bear their testimony against its numerous abominations.

This seems to be the proper place for introducing some particular mention of the sect of the Paterines. The most copious account of them that I have met with, is that given by Mr. Robinson in his Ecclesiastical Researches; and as it appears to be well supported by the authorities which he has adduced, and to correspond with what is said of the same people by Dr.

Allix, Mesheim, and others, I present it to the reader mostly in his own words.

Much has been written on the etymology of the wordPATERINE; but as the Italians themselves are not agreed on the derivation, it is not likely foreigners should be able to determine it. In Milan, where it was first used, it answered to the English words, vulgar, illiterate, low-bred; and these people were so called, because they were chiefly of the lower order of men; mechanics, artificers, manufacturers, and others, who lived of their honest labor.GAZARI, is a corruption of Carthari , Puritans; and it is remarkable that in the examinations of these people, they are not taxed with any immoralities, but were condemned for speculations, or rather for virtuous rules of action, which all in power accounted heresies. They said a Christian church ought to consist of only good people; a church had no power to frame any constitutions; it was not right to take oaths; it was not lawful to kill mankind; a man ought not to be delivered up to officers of justice to be converted; the benefits of society belonged alike to all the members of it; faith without works could not save a man; the church ought not to persecute any, even the wicked: — the law of Moses was no rule to Christians; there was no need of priests, especially of wicked ones; the sacraments, and orders, and ceremonies of the church of Rome were futile, expensive, oppressive, and wicked; with many more such positions, all inimical to the hierarchy.

As the Catholics of those times baptized by immersion, the Paterines, by what name soever they were called, as Manichaeans, Gazari, Josephists, Passigines, etc. made no complaint of the mode of baptizing, but when they were examined, they objected vehemently against the baptism of infants, and condemned it as an error. Among other things, they said, that a child knew nothing of the matter, that he had no desire to be baptized, and was incapable of making any confession of faith, and that the willing and professing of another could be of no service to him. “Here then,” says Dr. Allix, very truly, “we have found a body of men in Italy, before the year one thousand and twenty-six , five hundred years before the Reformation, who believed contrary to the opinions of the church of Rome, and who highly condemned their errors.” Atto, bishop of Verceulli, had complained of such people eighty years before , and so had others before him, and there is the highest reason to believe that they had always existed in Italy. It is observable that those who are alluded to by Dr. Allix, were brought to light by mere accident. No notice was taken of them in Italy, but some disciples of Gundulf, one of their teachers, went to settle in the Low Countries, (Netherlands) and Gerard, bishop of Cambray, imprisoned them, under pretense of converting them.

From the tenth to the thirteenth century, the dissenters in Italy continued to multiply and increase; for which several reasons may be assigned. The excessive wickedness of the court of Rome and the Italian prelates was better known in Italy than in the other countries. There was no legal power in Italy in these times to put dissenters to death. Popular preachers in the church, such as Claude of Turin, and Arnold of Brescia, increased the number of dissenters, for their disciples went further than their masters. The adjacency of France and Spain too, contributed to their increase, for both abounded with Christians of this sort. Their churches were divided into sixteen compartments, such as the English Baptists would call associations. Each of these was subdivided into parts, which would be here termed churches or congregations. In Milan there was a street called Pataria, where it is supposed they met for divine worship. At Modena they assembled at some water-mills. They had houses at Ferrara, Brescia, Viterbe, Verona, Vicenza, and several in Rimini, Romandiola, and other places. Reinerius says, in 1259 the Paterine church of Alba consisted of above five hundred members; that at Concorezzo of more than fifteen hundred; and that of Bagnolo of about two hundred. The houses were they met seem to have been hired by the people, and tenanted by one of the brethren. There were several in each city, and each was distinguished by a mark known by themselves. They had bishops, or elders, pastors and teachers, deacons, and messengers; that is, men employed in traveling to administer to the relief and comfort of the poor, and the persecuted. In times of persecution they met in small companies of eight, twenty, thirty, or as it might happen; but never in large assemblies, for fear of the consequences.

The Paterines were decent in their deportment, modest in their dress and discourse, and their morals irreproachable. In their conversation there was no levity, no scurrility, no detraction, no falsehood, no swearing. Their dress was neither fine nor mean. They were chaste and temperate, never frequenting taverns, or places of public amusement. They were not given to anger and other violent passions. They were not eager to accumulate wealth, but content with the necessaries of life. They avoided commerce, because they thought it would expose them to the temptation of collusion, falsehood, and oaths, choosing rather to live by labor or useful trades.

They were always employed in spare hours either in giving or receiving instruction. Their bishops and officers were mechanics, weavers, shoemakers, and others, who maintained themselves by their industry.

About the year 1040, the Paterines had become very numerous at Milan, which was their principal residence, and here they flourished at least two hundred years. They had no connection with the [Catholic] church; for they rejected not only Jerome of Syria, Augustine of Africa, and Gregory of Rome, but Ambrose of Milan; considering them, and all other pretended fathers, as corrupters of Christianity. They particularly condemned pope Sylvester as Antichrist. They called [the adoration of] the cross the mark of the beast. They had no share in the state, for they took no oaths and bore no arms. The state did not trouble them, but the clergy preached, prayed, and published books against them with unabated zeal. About the year 1176, the archbishop of Milan, an old infirm man, while preaching against them with great vehemence, dropped down in a fit, and expired as soon as he had received extreme unction! About fourteen years afterwards, one Bonacursi, who pretended he had been one of these Paterines , made a public renunciation of his opinions, and embraced the Catholic faith, filling Milan with fables, as all renegadoes do. He reported that cities, suburbs, towns, and castles, were full of these false prophets — that it was the time to suppress them, and that the prophet Jeremiah had directed the Milanese what to do, when he said, “Cursed be he that keepeth back his sword from blood!” Advice which we shall presently see was but too implicitly followed. 15 SECTION History of the Crusades to Asia, for the recovery of the Holy Land and the city of Jerusalem from the Turks.

A.D. 1096-1270 IT has been remarked by a late eminent historian, 1 that “there is no event in the history of mankind more singular than that of the crusades.” The subject is indeed very remotely, if at all, connected with the kingdom of Christ; but as it forms a prominent feature in the history of the Antichristian apostasy; and as these extravagant enterprises took place towards the end of the eleventh, and during a considerable part of the twelfth century, and especially as the relation of them throws a portion of light upon the history of Europe during this benighted period, it may not be without its use here to give a concise account of them. I have purposely reserved the article for a separate section, to prevent its being mingled with what regards the Waldenses and Albigenses, who had nothing to do with these frantic expeditions, except to condemn them.

Pope Gregory VII. among his other vast ideas, had formed the project of uniting the Christians of the Western empire against the Mahometans, and of recovering Palestine from the hands of those infidels: but his quarrels with the emperor Henry IV. prevented the enterprise from being achieved during his pontificate. The work, however, was reserved for a meaner instrument; for a man, whose condition could excite no jealousy; and whose hand was as weak as his imagination was warm. But previous to entering upon his history, it will be proper to describe the state of the East at that time, and of the passion for pilgrimages which then prevailed in Europe.

The veneration and delight with which we view those places that have been the residence of any illustrious personage, or the theater of any great event, has been frequently remarked by philosophers and moralists. Hence the enthusiasm with which the learned still visit the ruins of Athens and Rome; and from this source also flowed the superstitious devotion with which Christians from the earliest time were accustomed to visit that country whence their religion originated, and that city in particular in which the Savior died for the redemption of sinners. Pilgrimages to the shrines of saints and martyrs were also common; and in proportion to the difficulty with which they were performed to distant countries, was their merit appreciated, till they came at length to be considered as an expiation for almost every crime. Moreover, an opinion began to prevail over Europe towards the close of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh century, that the thousand years mentioned by the writer of the book of the Revelation, ch. 20:2-4, were nearly accomplished, and the end of the world at hand — a persuasion which greatly augmented the number and ardor of the credulous devotees who undertook this tedious journey. A general consternation seized the minds of men; numbers relinquished their possessions, forsook their families and friends, and hastened to the Holy Land, where they imagined Christ would suddenly appear to judge the living and the dead.

But in these pious journeys, the pilgrims had the mortification to find the holy sepulcher, and the other places which had been rendered sacred by the Savior’s presence, fallen into the hands of infidels. The Mahometans had made themselves masters of Palestine, soon after the death of their prophet; but they gave little disturbance to the zealous pilgrims who daily flocked to Jerusalem; and they allowed every person, on payment of a moderate tribute, to visit the holy sepulcher, to perform his religious duties, and to return in peace. But, about the middle of the eleventh century, the Turks, who had also embraced Mahometanism, wrested Syria from the Saracens who had now been in possession of it for several centuries, and making themselves masters of Jerusalem, the pilgrims became exposed to outrages of every kind from those fierce barbarians.

Every person who returned from Palestine related the dangers that he had encountered in visiting the holy city, and described the cruelty and vexation of the Turks, who, to use the language of the pilgrims, not only profaned the sepulcher of the Lord by their presence, but derided the sacred mysteries in the vary place of their completion, and where the Son of God was expected immediately to judge the world.

While the minds of men were thus roused, a fanatical monk, commonly known by the name of Peter the Hermit, a Frenchman, born at Amiens in Picardy, conceived the project of leading all the forces of Christendom against the infidels, and driving them out of the Holy Land. He had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and was so deeply affected with the danger to which his fellow pilgrims were now exposed, that, on his return, he ran from province to province, with a crucifix in his hand, exciting princes and people to undertake this holy warfare; and he succeeded in everywhere kindling the same enthusiastic ardor for it with which he himself was animated. “When he painted the suffering of the natives and pilgrims of Palestine, every heart was melted to compassion; every breast glowed with indignation when he challenged the warriors of the age to defend their brethren and rescue their Savior.” Pope Urban II. who at first hesitated about the success of such a project, at length entered into Peter’s views, and summoned a council at Placentia, at which, so immense was the multitude of attendants, that it was found necessary to hold it in the open fields. It consisted of four thousand ecclesiastics and thirty thousand of the laity, who all declared for the war against the Infidels, though but few of them discovered any alacrity to engage personally in the enterprise. The Pope, therefore, was under the necessity of calling another council, during the same year, at Clermont in Auvergne, which was attended by prelates, nobles, and princes of the first distinction. On this occasion the pontiff and the hermit exerted all their eloquence, by the most pathetic exhortations, to stimulate the audience to embark in this pious cause; at the conclusion of which the whole assembly, as if impelled by an immediate inspiration, exclaimed with one voice, “It is the will of God ! It is the will of God !” “It is indeed the will of God,” replied the pope; “and let this memorable saying, the inspiration surely of the Holy Spirit, be for ever adopted as your cry of battle to animate the devotion and courage of the champions of Christ. His cross is the symbol of your salvation; wear it: a red, a bloody cross, as an external mark on your breast or shoulders; as a pledge of your sacred and irrevocable engagement.” The words were accordingly adopted as the motto for the sacred standard, and as the signal of rendezvous and battle in all the future exploits of the champions of the Cross ; the symbol chosen by the devout combatants, as the badge of union; and it was affixed to their right shoulder; whence their expedition obtained the name of a Crusade.

Persons of all ranks now flew to arms with the utmost ardor; not only the gallant nobles of that age and their martial followers, whom the boldness of a romantic enterprise might be supposed to allure, but persons in the more humble and pacific stations of life, ecclesiastics of every order, and even females concealing their sex beneath the disguise of armor, engaged with emulation in a cause which was deemed so sacred and meritorious. The greatest criminals entered with alacrity into a service which they regarded as a propitiation for all their offenses: if they succeeded, they flattered themselves with the hope of making their fortunes in this world; and if they died, they were promised a crown of glory in the world to come.

Devotion, passion, prejudice, and habit, all contributed to the same common end, and the combination of so many causes produced that wonderful emigration which induced the daughter of Alexis Comnenus, the emperor of Constantinople, to say, that “Europe loosened from its foundations, and impelled by its moving principle, seemed in one united body to precipitate itself upon Asia.”

The number of adventurers soon became so great, that their more experienced leaders were apprehensive the greatness of the armament would defeat its own purpose. They therefore wisely permitted an undisciplined multitude, computed at three hundred thousand men, to go before them, under the command of Peter the Hermit, Walter the Moneyless, and other wild fanatics.

Peter, at the head of his army, with sandals on his feet and a rope about his waist, marched through Hungary and Bulgaria towards Constantinople.

A German priest of the name of Godescaldus, followed by a numerous banditti, took the same route; and trusting to heaven for a miraculous supply of all their wants, they made no provision for subsistence on their march. They were not long, however, in finding themselves reduced to the necessity of obtaining by plunder what they presumptuously expected from miracles. The Jews were the first victims of their plunder.

Considering themselves as enlisted in the service of Christ, they concluded that they were fully warranted to take vengeance on his murderers, and they, therefore, put to the sword without mercy such as refused to be baptized, seizing their property without the smallest regard to the rights of justice. In Bavaria alone twelve thousand Jews were massacred, and many thousands more in the other provinces of Germany. But Jews were not to be found everywhere: these pious robbers, having tasted the sweets of plunder, and being subject to no military regulations, began of course to pillage without distinction, till the inhabitants of the countries through which they passed rose in defense of themselves and families, and nearly destroyed them all. Peter, however, with the remnant of his army, consisting of about twenty thousand starving wretches, at length reached Constantinople, where he was reinforced by a multitude of the rabble from Germany and Italy, who, by pillaging the churches, and practicing the greatest disorders, had contrived so far to follow their leader.

Alexis Comnenus , the Greek emperor, was astonished to see his dominions deluged with an inundation of licentious barbarians, strangers alike to order and discipline; and especially on being told of the multitudes that were following under different leaders. Thus circumstanced, however, he very wisely considered that the most prudent step he could take, was to get rid of such troublesome guests as soon as possible, by furnishing them with vessels to transport themselves to the other side of the Bosphorus; and Peter, the general of the Crusade, soon found himself in the plains of Asia, at the head of a Christian army, ready to give battle to the Infidels. Their first engagement was with Soliman, Sultan of Nice, who fell upon the disorderly crowd, and slaughtered them almost without resistance. Walter the Moneyless, and many other leaders of equal celebrity, were slain; but Peter the Hermit found his way back to Constantinople, where he was regarded as a maniac who had enlisted a multitude of infatuated people to follow him. ASIA was then divided into a number of petty states, comprehended under the great ones. The princes of the lesser states paid homage to the Caliphs, though they were in effect their masters: and the Sultans, who were very numerous, still further enfeebled the Mahometan empire by continual wars with each other, the certain consequence of divided sway. The crusaders, therefore, who, when mustered on the banks of the Bosphorus, amounted to the incredible number of one hundred thousand horsemen and six hundred thousand foot, were sufficient to have conquered all Asia, had they been properly disciplined, united under one head, or commanded by leaders who acted in concert; but they were conducted by men of the most independent, intractable spirits, unacquainted with discipline, and enemies to civil and military subordination. Their zeal, however, their courage, and their irresistible force, still carried them forward, and advanced them to the object of their expedition in defiance of every obstacle. After an obstinate siege, they took Nice, the seat of old Soliman, Sultan of Syria; they also made themselves masters of Antioch, the seat of another Sultan, and entirely broke the strength of the Turks, who had for a long time tyrannized over the Arabs.

On the fall of the Turkish power, the Caliph of Egypt, whose alliance the crusaders had hitherto courted, recovered the authority of the Caliphs of Jerusalem. He therefore sent ambassadors to the leaders of the Crusades, informing them, that if they would throw away their arms they might now perform without molestation or inconvenience their religious vows in the holy city, and that all pilgrims, who should from that time visit the holy sepulcher, might expect the same good treatment which they had ever received from their predecessors. His offer was, however, rejected: he was required to yield up the city to the Christians; and on his refusal, Jerusalem was besieged, the possession of which was the great object of their armament, and the consummation of their labors.

The army of the Crusaders was now greatly reduced in number, partly by disasters, and partly by the detachments they had been obliged to make in order to keep possession of the places they had conquered, insomuch, that, according to the testimony of historians, they scarcely exceeded twenty thousand foot and fifteen hundred horse, while the garrison of Jerusalem consisted of forty thousand men. Yet, notwithstanding this diminution of force, after a siege of five weeks, they took the city by assault, and put the garrison and inhabitants to the sword without distinction. The brave were not protected by arms, nor the timid by submission; neither age nor sex were spared; infants perished by the same sword that pierced the supplicating mother. The streets of Jerusalem were covered with heaps of slain; and the shrieks of agony or despair resounded from every house, when these triumphant warriors, glutted with slaughter, threw aside their arms, still streaming with blood, and advanced, with naked feet and bended knees to the sepulcher of the Prince of Peace! sung anthems to that Redeemer who had purchased their salvation by his death, and while deaf to the cries of distress from their fellow-creatures, dissolved in tears for the sufferings of the Messiah! So inconsistent is human nature with itself; and so easily does the most degrading superstition associate both with the most heroic courage and with the fiercest barbarity.

This important event, the conquest of Jerusalem, was achieved in 1099, the last year of the eleventh century; but towards the middle of the twelfth, the power of the crusaders began to decline, and was growing weaker every day in those countries which they had conquered. The small kingdom of Edessa, had been retaken by the Turks, and Jerusalem itself was threatened. Europe was solicited for a new armament; and, as the French had taken the lead in the former armament, they were on the present occasion honored with the first application for a renewal. The papal chair was at that time filled by Eugenius III. to whom the deputies of the East had been sent; and he wisely pitched upon the celebrated Bernard, as the instrument of this pious warfare. A more suitable character could scarcely have been found. Bernard was learned for the times in which he lived; he was naturally eloquent, austere in his life, irreproachable in morals, enthusiastically zealous, and inflexible in his purpose. He had long held the reputation of a saint, was regarded as an oracle, and revered as a prophet; no wonder then that he found means to persuade the young king of France, Lewis VII. to engage in this fresh Crusade. The French monarch, who had but recently ascended the throne, found himself at the commencement of his reign engaged in one of those civil wars which the feudal governments rendered almost unavoidable;. and having in an expedition into Champagne, made himself master of Vitry, he caused the church to be set on fire, by which means thirteen hundred persons, who had taken refuge in it, all perished in the flames — a piece of cruelty which, on reflection, sunk deep into the king’s mind, and filled him with dreadful remorse. Bernard availed himself of this penitentiary state, and persuaded the king of France, that to expiate his guilt, it was his indispensable duty to make an expedition to the Holy Land.

At Vezelar, a city in the province of Burgundy, a scaffold was erected in the market place, on which Bernard appeared by the side of Lewis VII.

The saint first harangued the multitude, and was then seconded by the king, after receiving the cross from his hands. The queen who was present, also took the cross; and the example of the royal pair was followed by all the company, among whom were many of the nobility. In vain did Suger, who was prime minister to the king, labor to dissuade his royal master from abandoning his dominions, by assuring him that he might make a much more suitable atonement for his sins by remaining at home, and governing his dominions in a wise and prudent manner; the eloquence of Bernard, and the frenzy of the times prevailed. The minister, however, retained his opinion; and made no scruple to predict the inconveniences that would attend an expedition to Palestine, whilst the monk pledged himself for its success, and extolled it with an enthusiasm that passed for inspiration.

From France, Bernard proceeded to preach the Crusade in Germany; where through the force of his irresistible eloquence, he prevailed on the emperor Conrad III. as well as on Frederic Barbarossa, who was afterwards emperor, and an immense number of persons of all ranks, to take the cross, promising them in the name of the Most High, complete victory over the Infidels. He ran from city to city, every where communicating his enthusiasm; and, if we may credit the historians of those times, working miracles. It is not indeed pretended that he restored the dead to life; but it is affirmed that the blind received their sight, the lame walked, the sick were healed, and to these bold assertions we may add a fact no less incredible, that while St. Bernard’s eloquence operated so powerfully on the minds of the Germans, he always preached to them in French, a language which they did not understand!

The confident hopes of success in this new enterprise, induced the greatest part of the knights in their respective dominions to enroll themselves under the banners of the emperor, and king of France; and it is said, that in each army there were seventy thousand men in complete armor, with a prodigious number of light horse, besides the infantry, making this second emigration at least equal to the number of three hundred thousand men; which added to thirteen hundred thousand sent on the former occasion, makes a sum total of one million six hundred thousand of the inhabitants of Europe transplanted to Asia on these crusading expeditions. The Germans advanced first, the French followed them; and the same excesses that had been committed by the soldiers of the first Crusade were repeated by those of the second.

When the emperor Conrad had passed the Bosphorus, he acted with that imprudence which is very characteristic of such expeditions. Instead of joining those Christians who remained in Syria, and there waiting the arrival of the king of France, jealous of all competitors, he marched his army into the heart of Asia Minor, where the Sultan of Iconium, a more experienced general than himself, drew his heavy German cavalry among the rocks and cut his army in pieces. He fled to Antioch, and from thence proceeded to Jerusalem as a pilgrim, instead of appearing as the leader of an army, and at last returned to Europe with an handful of men, A.D. 1148.

The king of France was not more successful in his enterprise. He fell into the same snare that had entrapped the emperor; and being surprised among the rocks near Laodicea, was defeated as Conrad had been, and the conclusion of the whole expedition was, that Lewis, like Conrad, returned to Europe with the wreck of a great army, A.D. 1149, after visiting the holy sepulcher. A thousand ruined families in vain exclaimed against Bernard for his prophecies: he excused himself upon the example of Moses, who he said, had like himself promised the children of Israel to conduct them into a happy country, and yet saw the first generation perish in the deserts.

The failure of this second Crusade reduced the affairs of the Oriental Christians to a state of great distress, which was still further augmented by the bold and enterprising conduct of Saladin the Great, a prince of Persian extraction, who, having by his bravery fixed himself on the throne of Egypt, began to extend his conquests over all the East, but finding the settlement of the Christians in Palestine an obstacle to the progress of his arms, he bent the whole force of his policy and valor to subdue that small though important territory. Taking advantage of the dissensions that prevailed among the champions of the cross, and having secretly gained over to his interest the Count of Tripoli, who commanded their armies, he invaded Palestine with a mighty force, and obtained a complete victory over them, utterly annihilating the rigor of the already languishing kingdom of Jerusalem. The holy city itself fell into his hands in the year 1187, after a feeble resistance; the kingdom of Antioch was almost entirely subdued; and, excepting some maritime towns, nothing of importance remained of those boasted conquests, which, nearly a century before, had cost the efforts of all Europe to acquire.

The papal chair was then filled by Clement III. who no sooner received the melancholy tidings, than he ordered a Crusade to be preached throughout all the countries of Christendom. Europe was filled with grief and consternation. The emperor of Germany, Frederic Barbarossa, assembled a diet at Mentz in 1188, in order to deliberate with the states of the empire on this unhappy event. To encourage his subjects, he himself took the cross; his son Frederic, duke of Suabia, followed his father’s example, as did also sixty-eight of the first German nobles, ecclesiastics as well as laymen. Ratisbon was appointed the place of rendezvous; and to prevent the inconvenience arising from too great a multitude, Frederic decreed that no person should take the cross, who could not afford to expend three marks of silver. Yet, notwithstanding this regulation, so great was the zeal of the Germans, that an army was formed, consisting of a hundred and fifty thousand military adventurers, well armed, and provided with necessaries for undertaking the third Crusade.

The emperor in person marched at the head of thirty thousand men, by way of Vienna to Presburg, where he was joined by the rest of his army.

He thence proceeded through Hungary, into the territories of the Greek emperor, who, notwithstanding his professions of friendship, had been detached by Saladin’s promises and insinuations, to give up the interests of Frederic, in consequence of which he took every opportunity of harassing the Germans in their march. Enraged at his perfidy, Frederic laid the country under contribution; captured and plundered Philipopolis; defeated a body of Greek troops that attacked him by surprise, and compelled the emperor of Constantinople to sue for peace. He wintered at Adrianople; crossed the Hellespont in the spring; refreshed his troops a short time at Laodicea; defeated the Turks in several battles; took and pillaged the city of Iconium, and crossed Mount Taurus, so that all Asia was filled with the terror of his name. Among the crusaders, Frederic was as renowned as Saladin among the Turks. The Christians in Syria and Palestine flattered themselves that, from his assistance, they should obtain effectual relief, but their hopes were suddenly blasted. This great prince who was an expert swimmer, one day plunged into the cold river Cydnus, to refresh himself from the sultry heat of summer, which brought on a fatal illness that at once put a period to his life and heroic exploits.

The kings of England and France had entered with considerable ardor into the third Crusade. Philip Augustus reigned at that time over France; and in our own country the throne was filled by the first Richard. Both of these monarchs considered the recovery of the Holy Land as the ultimate purpose of their government; yet neither of them was so much impelled to the pious enterprise by superstition, as by the love of military glory.

Richard, in particular, had so little regard to sanctity in his external deportment, that when a zealous preacher of the Crusade advised him to rid himself of his pride, avarice, and voluptuousness, which the priest called his majesty’s three favorite daughters, Richard replied, “You counsel well; and I hereby dispose of the first to the Templars, the second to the Benedictines, and the third to my Bishops!”

Resolving to profit by the disasters that had attended the former crusading expeditions, the kings of France and England determined to make trial of another road to the Holy Land, which was to conduct their armies thither by sea; to carry provisions along with them; and by means of their naval power, to maintain an open communication with their own states, and with the western parts of Europe. Their first place of rendezvous was the plain of Vezelai, on the borders of Burgundy, where Philip and Richard found their armies amount to one hundred thousand men. Here they pledged each other in promises of mutual friendship, and engaged not to invade each other’s dominions during the Crusade; their barons and prelates exchanged oaths to the same effect; after which they separated.

Philip took the road to Genoa, Richard that to Marseilles, with a view of meeting their fleets, which were severally appointed to assemble in those harbors. They put to sea at the same time, and both were compelled by stress of weather to take shelter in the harbor of Messina, where they were detained during the whole winter.

In the spring of the year 1191, both fleets arrived in Asia, where, the troops being embarked, they laid siege to Ptolemais, which had been attacked about two years before, by the combined force of all the Christians in Palestine, and defended by the utmost efforts of Saladin and the Saracens. Before this place, Frederic, duke of Suabia, son of the emperor Barbarossa, had perished; and along with him the remains of the German army. But the arrival of the armies of England and France, with Richard and Philip at their head, infused fresh rigor into the besiegers, and the emulation that prevailed between these rival kings and rival nations, produced extraordinary feats of valor. Richard, in particular, drew upon himself the attention of the world, and acquired a great and splendid reputation. Ptolemais was taken; the Saracen garrison reduced to the last extremity, surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and the wood of the true cross was restored! And thus this famous siege, which had engaged the attention of all Europe and Asia, was at last achieved — with the loss of three hundred thousand men .

The French monarch, instead of pursuing his conquests further, and redeeming the holy city from slavery, declared his resolution of returning into France, disgusted, as it is said, by the ascendancy which the king of England had acquired by his more precipitate courage, and romantic spirit; pleading the ill state of his health, however, as the reason of his deserting the common cause. The heroic actions of Richard, while in Palestine, were the best apology for his conduct. On opening the campaign of 1192, he determined to attempt the siege of Ascalon, the conquest of which fortress was a necessary step to prepare the way for that of Jerusalem; and leaving Ptolemais, he marched with the army under his command along the sea coast with that intention. Saladin determined to intercept their passage, and placed himself upon the road with an army of three hundred thousand men. On this occasion was fought one of the most formidable battles of that age, and the most celebrated for the military genius of the commanders; for the number and valor of the troops, and for the variety of events which attended it. The right wing of the Christian army, commanded by D’Avesnes, and the left under that of the duke of Burgundy, were, in the former part of the day, broken and defeated; when Richard, who led on the main body, restored the fortunes of the day. He attacked the enemy with the greatest intrepidity and valor; with all the skill of a consummate general and gallant soldier; and not only gave his two wings the opportunity of recovering from their confusion, but obtained a complete victory over the Saracens; forty thousand of whom, it is said, were left dead upon the field. Ascalon surrendered to the crusaders; other sieges were carried on with success. Richard advanced within sight of Jerusalem, when he had the mortification to find that he must abandon all hopes of present success, and put a stop to his career of victory.

The zeal and ardor with which the crusaders were animated for some time carried them forwards in the prosecution of their romantic expedition, regardless of all the rules of prudence or safety; and, confident of the approbation of heaven, they set nothing before them but fame and victory in this world, and a crown of glory in the next: but long absence from home, famine, fatigue, and disease, added to the varieties of fortune which naturally attend war, had greatly abated that fury which nothing was able directly to withstand. All, but the king of England, expressed a desire to return to Europe; so that there appeared an imperious necessity of abandoning for the present all future conquests, and of securing their present acquisitions by a treaty of peace with Saladin. Richard, therefore, concluded a truce with that monarch: and stipulated that Ptolemais, Joppa, and other sea-port towns of Palestine, should remain in the hands of the Christians, and that every one of that religion should enjoy the privilege of performing his pilgrimage unmolested. This truce was ratified A.D. 1192, and was to remain in force for three years, three months, three weeks, three days, and three hours; a magical number, suggested by a superstition well suited to the object of the war.

Saladin died at Damascus soon after the ratification of this truce with the leaders of the Crusade. He was a prince of great valor, and of generous sentiments; and it is memorable, that during his last illness, he gave orders for his winding sheet to be carried as a standard through every street of the city, while a cryer preceded it proclaiming with a loud voice, “This is all that remains to the mighty Saladin, the conqueror of the East.” His last will is also remarkable: he ordered alms to be distributed to the poor without regard to distinction of Jew, Mahometan, or Christian; thereby intimating that he considered all men as brethren, and as equally entitled to the exercise of our compassion when in distress — a lesson, though coming from a Mussulman, which deserves the imitation of Christians.

But the advantages of science, of moderation, and of humanity, were indeed at that time wholly on the side of the former.

Richard, having no further business in Palestine, took shipping for Europe, but was unfortunately wrecked in the Adriatic; and, reaching land, he disguised himself in the habit of a pilgrim, hoping by that means to pass safely through Germany. But being betrayed by his liberalities and expenses, he was arrested by Leopold, duke of Austria, whom he had offended at the siege of Ptolemais, who to gratify his revenge threw him into prison, and then sold him to the emperor Henry VI. The latter had also taken offense at some part of Richard’s conduct, and was therefore glad to have him in his power. Thus the gallant king of England, who had filled the world with his renown, was confined to a dungeon in the heart of Germany, loaded with chains, and entirely at the mercy of his enemy, one of the basest and most sordid of mankind! Richard, however, in a little time succeeded in bringing his case before a diet of the empire, at which he personally attended; and by his eloquence and spirit, made such an impression on the German princes, that they exclaimed loudly against the conduct of the emperor, whom the pope also threatened with excommunication. In the issue, Henry concluded a treaty with Richard for his ransom, and agreed to liberate him for the sum of about three hundred thousand pounds of our present money — an enormous sum in those days.

But notwithstanding the reiterated disasters and ill-success that attended the frantic expeditions to the Holy Land, so resolutely was the court of Rome bent on the achievement of its grand object, that the popes were continually urging the princes of Europe to renew their efforts. Their power and influence were, by this time, become so predominant, that it was at the peril of the latter they declined compliance with their sovereign will. The papal chair was at this time filled by Celestine III. by whom Henry VI. was crowned emperor of Germany. He was then a very old man, being in his eighty-sixth year; the ceremony of coronation was performed on Easter Monday; the pope placed his crown on the head of Henry, which he had no sooner done, than he kicked it off again, as a testimony of the power residing in their sovereign pontiffs to make and unmake emperors at their pleasure!

In the year 1196, Henry was solicited by the pope to engage in a new Crusade for the relief of the Christians in Palestine; and the emperor consented, though he had prudence enough to study his own interest in the compliance. He convoked a general diet at Worms, at which he avowed his determination to employ all his resources, and even to risk his own life for the accomplishment of so holy an enterprise; and so eloquently did he expatiate upon the subject, that nearly the whole assembly took the cross.

Their example prevailed throughout the empire, and so great was the number who enlisted themselves, that Henry divided them into three large armies: the first, under the command of the bishop of Mentz, took the rout of Hungary, where it was joined by Margaret, queen of that country, who herself entered as a volunteer on this pious expedition, and actually ended her days in Palestine: the second was assembled in Lower Saxony, and embarked in a fleet furnished by the inhabitants of Lubec, Hamburgh, Holstein, and Friesland; while the emperor in person, conducted the third into Italy, to avenge himself of the Normans in Naples and Sicily, who had revolted from their allegiance to him.

The state of Europe was at this time full of perplexity and confusion.

Innocent III. succeeded Celestine in the papal chair, an able and ambitious pontiff, whose ruling passion was the aggrandizement of the holy see. He quarreled with Philip, duke of Suabia, who had recently been elected king of the Romans, excommunicating him and all his adherents; and labored with all his might to detach the princes and prelates from his cause, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the king of France, to whom he proudly replied, “Either Philip must lose the empire, or I the papacy.”

But all these dissensions and troubles in Europe did not prevent the formation of another Crusade to Asia. Those who enrolled themselves were principally French and Germans. Baldwin, Count of Flanders, was their commander; and the Venetians, as greedy of wealth and power as the Carthaginians of old, furnished them with ships, for which they took care to be amply repaid both in money and territory. The city of Zara, in Dalmatia, had recently withdrawn itself from the government of the republic of Venice; the crusaders undertook to reduce it to obedience; and they besieged and took it, notwithstanding the pope threatened to excommunicate them — a striking proof of the reigning spirit of those fanatical adventurers.

The army of the cross, as they called themselves, next fell upon Constantinople, under the pretext of avenging the cause of Isaac Angelus, the Greek emperor, who had been dethroned and deprived of his sight in 1195, by his own brother Alexis. Baldwin and his followers, eagerly embraced this as an apology for their violence; and under the pretext of adjusting the quarrel between the two brothers, they made themselves masters of Constantinople. They entered the city without much resistance, putting every one to the sword who opposed them, and gave themselves up to all the excesses of avarice and fury. The booty of the French lords alone, was valued at four hundred thousand marks of silver: the very churches were pillaged; and what strongly marks the character of that volatile and giddy nation, it is related that the French officers danced with the ladies of Constantinople in the church of St. Sophia, after having robbed the altar and drenched the city in blood! Thus was this noble city, in that age the most flourishing in the Christian world, for the first time taken and sacked by Christians who had made a vow to fight only against Infidels. One consequence of this was, that the pope gained, for a time, the whole Eastern church; an acquisition of much greater consequence to him than that of Palestine. Of this indeed the conquerors seemed fully sensible; for, notwithstanding the vow they had taken to go and succor Jerusalem, it was only a very inconsiderable part of the crusaders that proceeded into Syria, and those were such as could obtain no share in the plunder of Constantinople.

In 1215, Frederic II. was crowned emperor of Germany with great magnificence at Aix-la-Chapelle; and to secure the favor of the pope to the other solemnities of his coronation, he added a vow to make an expedition to the Holy Land. Pope Innocent died the following year, and was succeeded by Honorius III. who expressed great eagerness to have the Crusade carried into effect. He therefore ordered it to be preached up through all the provinces of Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Bohemia, and Hungary, and his exertions were crowned with extraordinary success. The emperor himself declined the performance of his vow until he should have regulated the affairs of Italy, and most of the other princes of Europe were detained at home by domestic disturbances. But an infinite number of private noblemen and their vassals took the cross, ranging themselves under the dukes of Austria and Bavaria, the archbishop of Mentz, and the bishops of Munster and Utretch; and the king of Hungary, who brought with him a body of fine troops, was declared generalissimo of the Crusade.

The fate of this expedition pretty nearly resembled those of the preceding.

The army was embarked in three hundred sail of transports, equipped in the ports of Lower Saxony, which joining a squadron that was fitted out by the Frieslanders, Flemings, and people of Brabant, proceeded for the Straits of Gibraltar in their way to Ptolemais. On their arrival at that port, a council of war was held, at which it was resolved to besiege Damietta, in Egypt, which was accordingly invested by sea and land, and taken, after a tedious siege of eighteen months, in the year 1219. Their possession of this place, however, was of no great duration. A dispute arose among the chiefs of the crusaders about precedency, which it was found impossible to adjust without consulting his holiness, who, in his great wisdom, at length directed that the supreme command should be vested in a cardinal of the church of Rome. This monkish general brought the army of the cross between two branches of the river Nile, just at the time when that river, which fertilizes and defends Egypt, began its periodical inundation. The Sultan, informed of their situation, opened the sluices, and overflowed the camp of the crusaders; and while he burnt their ships on one side, the Nile increasing on the other, threatened the hourly destruction of the whole army. The pope’s legate finding himself and his troops reduced to the last extremity, restored Damietta, and was glad to conclude with the Sultan a dishonorable treaty, by which he bound himself and his army not to serve against the former for eight years.

When the leaders of the crusading army arrived in Europe, the pope was extremely incensed at the loss of Damietta, and wrote a severe letter to the emperor, accusing him of having sacrificed the interests of Christianity by so long delaying the performance of his vow, and threatening him with immediate excommunication, if he did not instantly depart with an army into Asia. Frederic, exasperated at these reproaches, renounced all correspondence with the court of Rome, filled up vacant sees and benefices, and even expelled some bishops, who were creatures of the pope, on pretense of their being concerned in practices against the state.

The pontiff at first attempted to repel force by force, threatening the emperor with the thunder of the church, for presuming to lift his hand against the sanctuary; but finding that Frederic was not to be intimidated, he became sensible of his own imprudence, in wantonly incurring the resentment of so powerful a prince, whose temper he now thought proper to soothe by submissive apologies and gentle exhortations. A reconciliation accordingly took place; and the emperor, as a proof of his sincere attachment to the church, published four severe edicts against the Paterines, Waldenses, and others to which we shall have occasion afterwards to advert, and which tended greatly to promote the establishment of the Inquisition.

Not long after this a solemn assembly was held at Ferentino, at which both the emperor and pope attended, together with John de Brienne, the titular king of Jerusalem, who had come to Europe to demand succors against the Sultan of Egypt. This monarch had an only daughter whom he offered in marriage to the emperor, with the kingdom of Jerusalem as her dowry, on condition that he, within two years performed the vow he had made of leading an army to the Holy Land. Frederic married her on these terms, because he chose to please the pope; and since that time, the kings of Sicily have taken the title of king of Jerusalem. But Frederic evinced no impatience to go and conquer his wife’s portion, having business at home of more importance that required his attendance. The principal cities of Lombardy had entered into a league to renounce his authority; to counteract which, he convoked a diet at Cremona, A.D. 1227, where all the princes and nobles of Germany and Italy were summoned to attend. The interference of the pope produced an accommodation, and it was agreed that the emperor should lay aside his resentment against the confederate towns, and that those towns should furnish and maintain four hundred knights for the relief of the Holy Land. Peace being thus concluded, his holiness reminded the emperor of his vow; Frederic promised compliance, but the pope died before the execution of a project which he seemed to have so much at heart. He was succeeded by Gregory IX. who, pursuing the same line of policy, urged the departure of Frederic for the Holy Land, and finding him still backward, declared him incapable of holding the imperial dignity, as having incurred the sentence of excommunication.

Frederic, incensed at such insolence, ravaged the patrimony of St. Peter, and was excommunicated. Wearied, however, at length with increasing contentions, and desirous of gratifying the prejudices of a superstitious age, Frederic resolved to perform his vow, and accordingly embarked for the Holy Land. The pope now prohibited his departure until he was absolved from all the censures of the church; but the emperor proceeded in contempt of the pope’s threatening, and with better success than his predecessors. He did not indeed desolate Asia, and gratify the barbarous zeal of the times, by shedding the blood of infidels; but he concluded a treaty with the Sultan of Egypt, by which the end of his expedition was fully answered. The Sultan ceded to him Jerusalem and its territory as far as Joppa, Bethlehem, and Nazareth, and all the country between Jerusalem and Ptolemais, Tyre, Sidon, and the neighboring districts: and in return for these concessions, the emperor granted him a truce for ten years. A.D. 1229.

About twenty years after this, the Sultan of Egypt having regained his authority in the Holy Land, these frantic expeditions were resumed by Louis IX. king of France, commonly called Saint Louis. This prince no sooner came of age than he was universally acknowledged one of the greatest potentates in Europe; and his character is perhaps one of the most singular in the annals of history. To the abject superstition of a monk, he united all the magnanimity of a hero; but what may be deemed still more wonderful, the justice and integrity of the sincere patriot, and where religion was not concerned, the mildness and humanity of the true philosopher. But Louis had his foibles. Persuaded that heretics, or those who dissented from the Roman church, deserved the punishment of death, he favored the tribunal of the Inquisition; and the same turn of thinking led him to ascribe merit to a war against Infidels. His humane heart became a prey to the barbarous superstition of the times. When a dangerous illness deprived him of his senses, and almost of his life, his heated imagination took fire, and he thought he heard a voice commanding him to shed the blood of Infidels. He accordingly made a vow that, as soon as he recovered, he would engage in a new Crusade, and he immediately took the cross. Nor could any remonstrances induce him to forego his purpose; he considered his vow as a sacred and indissoluble obligation. A.D. 1244.

But though not to be dissuaded from his Eastern expedition, Louis was in no haste to depart. Four years were spent in making preparations and settling the government of his kingdom, which he committed to the care of his mother; and at length, in 1248, he set sail for Cyprus, accompanied by his queen, his three brothers, and almost all the knights of France. Arriving at Cyprus, it was resolved to make a descent upon Egypt, as it was supposed that Jerusalem and the Holy Land could not be preserved while that country remained in the hands of the Infidels. Louis and his army therefore landed on the Egyptian coast, near to the city of Damietta; which, contrary to all expectation, was abandoned to them. Here he received fresh succors from France and found himself in the plains of Egypt at the head of sixty thousand men, the flower of his kingdom, by whom he was both obeyed and loved. Yet this Crusade, like all the rest, ended only in sorrow and disappointment. One-half of these fine troops fell a prey to sickness and debauchery; the other part was defeated by the Sultan, at Massoura, where Louis beheld his brother Robert, Count of Artois, killed by his side, and himself taken prisoner, with his two other brothers, the Counts of Anjou and Poictiers, and all his nobility, A.D. 1250.

During the king’s captivity, the queen mother granted permission to a fanatical monk to preach a new Crusade for her son’s release; and this man, availing himself of the pastoral circumstances attending our Lord’s nativity, assembled nearly a hundred thousand of the rabble, whom he denominated “shepherds.” It soon appeared, however, that their more appropriate title would have been that of wolves ; for, wherever they came, they robbed and pillaged without either regard to justice or mercy; so that it was at length found necessary to disperse them by force of arms; and even that was not effected without some difficulty. The death of the queen mother in the meantime, made it necessary for Louis to return to France; and to effect this, after a captivity of more than three years, he purchased his ransom, and that of his nobles, for a thousand pieces of gold; but he returned only to prepare for a new Crusade, so strongly had this mania infected his mind! A.D. 1254.

But it is needless to prosecute this subject further in detail. Enough, and more than enough, has been said to convince the reader of the deplorable state of darkness and superstition which reigned throughout Europe, to say nothing of Asia and Africa, during this period. Yet these romantic expeditions, though barbarous and destructive in themselves, were not without some beneficial results to the state of society: they were rendered subservient to the welfare of the community and of individuals. The Crusades being conducted under the immediate protection of the Roman church, and its heaviest anathemas being denounced against all who should molest their persons or their property, private hostilities were for a time suspended or extinguished; the feudal sovereigns became more powerful, and their vassals less turbulent; a more steady administration of justice was introduced, and some advances were made towards regular government. Nor were the commercial effects of the Crusades less considerable than their political influence. Many ships were necessary to transport the prodigious armies which Europe poured forth, as well as to supply them with provisions. Those ships were principally furnished by the Venetians and Genoese, who thereby acquired immense sums of money, and at the same time opened to themselves a new source of wealth, by importing into Europe the commodities of Asia. The cities of Italy grew rich and powerful, and obtained extensive privileges; and some of them erected themselves into independent states, or communities, the establishment of which may be considered as the first grand step towards civilization in modern Europe. END OF VOL. LONDON: