CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIII.

I. WHAT COLET THOUGHT OF THE ‘NOVUM INSTRUMENTUM’ (1516).

Having traced the progress and final publication of these works by Erasmus and More, the enquiry suggests itself, how were they received?

And first it may naturally be asked, What did Colet think of them, especially of the ‘Novum Instrumentum’?

[Sidenote: Erasmus envies Colet’s retirement, but works harder than ever.]

[Sidenote: Erasmus begins his Paraphrases.]

An early copy had doubtless been sent to him, and with the volume itself, it would seem, came a letter from Erasmus, probably from Antwerp, by the hand of Peter Meghen--‘Unoculus,’ as his friends called him.[616] In this letter Erasmus had consulted him about his future plans. After the labours of the past, and suffering as he was from feeble and precarious health, he had indulged, it would seem, in the expression of longings that he could share with Colet his prospects of rest. He knew how often Colet had mentioned the wish to spend his old age in retirement and peace, with one or two congenial companions, such as Erasmus; and now, just escaped from his monotonous labours at Basle, he was for the moment inclined to take Colet at his word. Still, much as he talked of rest, his mind would not stop working. Witness, for instance, his ‘Institutio Principis Christiani.’ In fact, while the ‘Novum Instrumentum’ and the works of St. Jerome had been passing through the press the number of other works of his had increased rather than lessened.

During the very intervals of travel he was sure to be writing some book. On his way to Basle he had written his letter to Dorpius, and he had published with it a commentary on the first Psalm, ‘_Beatus est vir_,’ &c., which, by the way, he had dedicated to his gentle friend, _Beatus_ Rhenanus, because, said he, ‘_blessed is_ the man who is such as the Psalm describes.’ New editions, also, of the ‘De Copiâ,’ of the ‘Praise of Folly,’ and of the ‘Adagia,’ were constantly being issued from the press of Froben, Martins, Schurerius, or some other printer; for whatever bore the name of Erasmus now found so ready a sale, that printers were anxious for his patronage. Visions, too, of future work kept rising up before him. He wanted to write a commentary on the Epistle to the Romans; and in writing to Colet it would seem that he had confided to him his project of adding to his Latin version of the New Testament an honest exposition of its meaning in the form of a simple _paraphrase_--a work which it took him years to complete.

Thus it came to pass that he had mentioned these literary projects in the same letter in which he had expressed himself as envious of Colet’s anticipated rest, and that freedom from the cares of poverty to which he himself was so constantly a prey. Doubtless for a moment it had seemed to him easier to wish himself in Colet’s place than with renewed energy to toil on in his own.

[Sidenote: Colet driven into retirement.]

But every heart knoweth its own bitterness. Colet had his share of troubles, which made him, in his turn, almost envy Erasmus. He felt as keenly as Erasmus and More did, how the mad rush of princes to arms had blasted the happy visions of what had seemed like a golden age approaching, and he had been the first to speak out what he thought; but now, while More and Erasmus could speak boldly and get Europe to listen to what they had to say, he was thwarted and harassed by his bishop, and obliged to crawl into retirement. His work was almost done. He could not use his pulpit as he used to do. He had spent his patrimony in the foundation of his school, and he had not another fortune to spend, for his uncle’s quarrel and other demands upon the residue had reduced his means even below his wants. Nor had he much of bodily strength and energy left. The sole survivor of a family of twenty-two, his health was not likely to be robust, and now, at fifty, he spoke of himself as growing old, and alluded with admiration to the high spirits of his still surviving mother, and the beauty of her happy old age.

[Sidenote: He procures the release from prison of one who had injured him.]

Still Colet had his heart in the work as much as ever. We do not hear much of his doings, but what we _do_ hear is all in keeping with his character. Thus we find him incidentally exerting himself to get some poor prisoner released from the royal prison, and Erasmus exclaiming, ‘I love that Christian spirit of Colet’s, for I hear that it was all owing to him, and him alone, that N. was released, notwithstanding that N., though always treated in the most friendly way by Colet, and professing himself as friendly to Colet, had sided with Colet’s enemies at the time that he was accused by the calumnies of the bishops.’[617]

It was about the time that he was thus returning good for evil to this unfortunate prisoner, that the letter of Erasmus and the copy of the ‘Novum Instrumentum’ came to his hands.

[Sidenote: Colet’s delight in the success of Erasmus.]

In spite of his own troubles he could hail the labours and success of Erasmus with delight. Twenty years ago, while alone and single-handed, he had longed for fellowship; now he could rejoice that in Erasmus he had not only found a fellow-worker, but a successor who would carry on the work much further than he could do. He had looked forward with eager expectation to the appearance of the ‘Novum Instrumentum,’ and, anticipating its perusal, had for months past[618] been working hard to recover the little knowledge of Greek which, during the active business of life, he had almost lost. And the more he felt that his own work was drawing to a close, the more was he disposed to encourage Erasmus to go on with his. He looked upon Erasmus now as the leader of the little band, forgetting that Erasmus owed, in one sense, almost everything to him.

This is the beautiful letter he wrote after reading the ‘Novum Instrumentum:’--

_Colet to Erasmus._

‘You cannot easily believe, my dear Erasmus, how much joy your letter gave me, which was brought to me by our “one-eyed friend.” For I learned from it where you are (which I did not know before), and also that you are likely to return to us, which would be very delightful both to me and to your other friends, of whom you have a great many here.

[Sidenote: What Colet thought of the ‘Novum Instrumentum.’]

‘What you say about the New Testament I can understand. The volumes of your new edition of it [the “Novum Instrumentum”] are here both eagerly bought and everywhere read. By many, your labours are received with approval and admiration. There are a few, also, who disapprove and carp at them, saying what was said in the letter of Martin Dorpius to you. But these are those divines whom you have described in your “Praise of Folly” and elsewhere, no less truly than wittily, as men whose praise is blame, and by whom it is an honour to be censured.

‘For myself, I so love your work, and so clasp to my heart this new edition of yours, that it excites mingled feelings. For at one time I am seized with sorrow that I have not that knowledge of Greek, without which one is good for nothing; at another time I rejoice in that light which you have shed forth from the sun of your genius.

‘Indeed, Erasmus, I marvel at the fruitfulness of your mind, in the conception, production, and daily completion of so much, during a life so unsettled, and without the assistance of any large and regular income.

[Sidenote: Edition of ‘Jerome.’]

‘I am looking out for your “Jerome,” who will owe much to you, and so shall _we_ also when able to read him with your corrections and explanations.

[Sidenote: The ‘Christian Prince.’]

‘You have done well to write “De Institutione Principis Christiani.” I wish Christian princes would follow good institutes! By their madness everything is thrown into confusion....

‘As to the “peaceful resting-place” which you say you long for, I also wish for one for you, both peaceful and happy; both your age and your studies require it. I wish, too, that this your final resting-place may be with us, if you think us worthy of so great a man; but what we are you have often experienced. Still you have here some who love you exceedingly.

‘Our friend, the Archbishop of Canterbury, when I was with him a few days ago, spoke much of you, and desired your presence here very much. Freed from all business cares, he lives now in quiet retirement.

‘What you say about “Christian philosophising” is true. There is nobody, I think, in Christendom more fit and suited for that profession and work than you are, on account of the wide range of your knowledge. _You_ do not say so, but I say so because I think so.

[Sidenote: Treatise of Erasmus on the First Psalm.]

‘I have read what you have written on the First Psalm, and I admire your eloquence. I want to know what you are going to write on the Epistle to the Romans.

[Sidenote: The projected ‘Paraphrases’ of Erasmus.]

‘Go on, Erasmus. As you have given us the New Testament in Latin, illustrate it by your expositions, and give us your commentary most at length on the Gospels. Your length is brevity; the appetite increases if only the digestive organs are sound. You will confer a great boon upon those who delight to read your writings if you will explain the meaning [of the Gospels], which no one can do better than you can. And in so doing, you will make your name immortal--_immortal_ did I say?--the name of Erasmus never can perish; but you will confer eternal _glory_ on your name, and, toiling on in the name of Jesus, you will become a partaker of his eternal life.

‘In deploring your fortune you do not act bravely. In so great a work--in making known the Scriptures--your fortune cannot fail you. Only put your trust in God, who will be the first to help you, and who will stir up others to aid you in your sacred labours.

‘That you should call me happy, I marvel! If you speak of fortune, although I am not wholly without any, yet I have not much, hardly sufficient for my expenses. I should think myself happy if, even in extreme poverty, I had a thousandth part of that learning and wisdom which you have got without wealth, and which, as it is peculiar to yourself, so also you have a way of imparting it, which I don’t know how to describe, unless I call it that “Erasmican” way of your own.

‘If you will let me, I will become your disciple, even in learning Greek, notwithstanding my advanced years (being almost an old man), recollecting that Cato learned Greek in his old age, and that you yourself, of equal age with me, are studying Hebrew.

‘Love me as ever; and, if you should return to us, count upon my devotion to your service.--Farewell.

[Sidenote: Colet’s mother.]

‘From the country at Stepney, with my mother, who still lives, and wears her advancing age beautifully; often happily and joyfully speaking of you. On the Feast of the Translation of St. Edward.’[619]