Erasmus: Scripta Selecta

I An Ordination Examination
II A Domestic Affray
III A Winter Journey
IV An English Country-House
V A Visit to Court
VI Erasmus at Oxford
VII An Oxford Dinner Party
VIII Learning in England
IX A Journey to Paris
X Erasmus Renders Account of Himself to Colet
XI A Visit to Lambeth
XII A Letter to Aldus
XIII An Interview with Grimani
XIV A Conversation at Cambridge
XV An Encounter with Canossa

XVI Erasmus' Apologia Pro Vita Sua
XVII Erasmus' Reception at Basel
XVIII Bishop Fisher
XIX A Journey from Basel to Louvain
XX English Universities
XXI An Explosion at Basel
XXII Archbishop Warham. I
XXXIII Archbishop Warham. II
XXIV The Lives of Vitrarius and Colet
XXV Colet and his Kinsmen
XXVI Thomas More
XXVII A Dishonest Londoner
XXVIII The Condition of English Houses
XXIX Fisher's Study at Rochester

1 An Ordination Examination
2 A Domestic Affray
3 A Winter Journey
4 An English Country-House
5 A Visit to Court
6 Erasmus at Oxford
7 An Oxford Dinner Party
8 Learning in England
9 A Journey to Paris
10 Erasmus Renders Account of Himself to Colet
11 A Visit to Lambeth
12 A Letter to Aldus
13 An Interview with Grimani
14 A Conversation at Cambridge
15 An Encounter with Canossa

16 Erasmus' Apologia Pro Vita Sua
17 Erasmus' Reception at Basel
18 Bishop Fisher
19 A Journey from Basel to Louvain
20 English Universities
21 An Explosion at Basel
22 Archbishop Warham. I
33 Archbishop Warham. II
24 The Lives of Vitrarius and Colet
25 Colet and his Kinsmen
26 Thomas More
27 A Dishonest Londoner
28 The Condition of English Houses
29 Fisher's Study at Rochester

I. An Ordination Examination

1. An Ordination Examination

Non ab re fuerit hoc loco referre quid acciderit Davidi quondam episcopo Traiectensi, Ducis Philippi cognomento Boni filio. Vir erat apprime doctus reique theologicae peritus, quod in nobilibus et illius praesertim dicionis episcopis profana dicione onustis perrarum est. Audierat inter tam multos qui sacris initiabantur, paucissimos esse qui literas scirent.

It will not be out of place at this point to relate what happened to David, once bishop of Utrecht the son of Duke Philip surnamed the Good. He was a man supremely learned and skilled in theology, which among nobles and especially among the bishops of that dominion laden with profane jurisdiction, is very rare. He had heard that among so many who were being initiated into sacred orders, there were very few who knew letters.

Visum est rem propius cognoscere. In aula in quam admittebantur examinandi iussit sibi poni cathedram. Ipse singulis proposuit quaestiones pro gradus quem petebant dignitate; hypodiaconis futuris leviores, diaconis aliquanto difficiliores, presbyteris theologicas.

It seemed good to learn the matter more closely. In the hall into which the examinees were admitted, he ordered a cathedra to be set for himself. He himself proposed questions to individuals according to the dignity of the grade they were seeking; for those about to be subdeacons, lighter ones; for deacons, somewhat more difficult; for presbyters, theological.

Quaeris eventum? Submovit omnes exceptis tribus. Qui his rebus praeesse solent existimarunt ingens Ecclesiae dedecus fore, si pro trecentis tres tantum initiarentur.

Do you ask the outcome? He dismissed all
except three. Those who are accustomed to preside over these matters judged that a huge disgrace to the Church
would be, if in place of three hundred only three were initiated.

Episcopus, ut erat fervido ingenio, respondit maius fore dedecus Ecclesiae, si in eam pro hominibus admitterentur asini et omnibus asinis stolidiores. Instabant ii quibus hinc aliquid emolumenti metitur, ut moderaretur sententiam, reputans hoc seculum non gignere Paulos aut Hieronymos, sed tales recipiendos quales ea ferret aetas. Perstitit episcopus, negans se requirere Paulos ac Hieronymos, sed asinos pro hominibus non admissurum.

The Bishop, as he was of a fervid disposition, replied that it would be a greater disgrace to the Church, if into it in place of men asses were admitted, and ones more stolid than all asses. Those pressed who from this quarter measure some emolument, that he moderate his sentence, considering that this age does not beget Pauls or Jeromes, but such are to be received as that age bears. The bishop persisted, denying that he required Pauls and Jeromes, but that he would not admit asses in place of men.

Hic confugiendum erat ad extremam machinam. Admota est. Quaenam?

Here one had to take refuge in the last contrivance. It was brought up. Which one?

'Si qua coepisti' inquiunt 'visum est pertendere, salaria nobis augeas oportet; alioqui sine his asinis non est unde vivamus.' Hoc ariete deiectus est erectus ille Praesulis animus.

'If what you have begun,' they say, 'seems good to carry through, you ought to increase our salaries;
otherwise without these asses there is no source whence we can live.' By this battering-ram that Prelate’s spirit was cast down.

II. A Domestic Affray

2. A Domestic Affray

(Erasmus Christiano S.D.)

(Erasmus to Christian, greeting.)

Salve, mel Atticum. Heri nihil scripsi, et consulto quidem; nam eram stomachosior. Ne roga in quem, in te inquam.

Greetings, Attic honey. Yesterday I wrote nothing, and indeed on purpose; for I was in a worse temper.
Do not ask at whom, at you, I say.

'Quid commerueram?' Verebar mihi insidias strui per te hominem argutissimum. Suspectam habebam illam tuam pyxidem, ne quid simile nobis afferret, quale ferunt Pandorae pyxidem Epimetheo; quam ubi recluseram, mihi ipsi succensebam qui fuissem suspiciosulus. 'Cur igitur ne hodie quidem scripsisti?' inquies.

'What had I merited?' I was afraid
that ambushes were being laid for me by you, a most subtle man. I held that
box of yours suspect, lest it bring upon us something like what they say
Pandora’s box brought upon Epimetheus; which, when I had unclosed, I was
angry with myself for having been a bit suspicious. 'Why then did you not write even today?' you will say.

Eramus occupatissimi. 'Quid tandem negotii?' In spectaculo sedimus, sane iucundo. 'Comoedia' inquis 'fuit, an Tragoedia?' Utrumvis, verum nemo personatus agebat, unicus duntaxat actus, chorus sine tibiis, fabula nec togata nec palliata, sed planipedia, humi acta, sine saltatu, e cenaculo spectata, epitasis turbulentissima, exitus perturbatissimus.

We were most occupied.
'What business then?' We sat at a spectacle, truly pleasant. 'Comedy,' you say, 'was it, or Tragedy?' Either, but no one masked
was acting, a single act only, a chorus without pipes, a play neither togata nor
palliata, but planipedian, acted on the ground, without dancing, viewed from an upper room,
the epitasis most turbulent, the outcome most perturbed.

'Quam, malum,' inquies 'mihi fabulam fingis?' Immo rem, Christiane, refero.

'What the mischief,' you will say
'what tale are you forging for me?' No indeed, Christian, I report the fact.

Spectavimus hodie matremfamilias cum famula domestica fortiter depugnantem. Sonuerat diu tuba ante congressum, convicia fortiter utrinque regeruntur. Hic aequo Marte discessum est, triumphavit nemo.

We beheld today a mother of the household fighting it out bravely with a domestic handmaid. The trumpet had sounded for a long time before the engagement, insults were stoutly returned on both sides. Here, with Mars equal, they parted; no one triumphed.

Haec in hortis, nos e cenaculo taciti spectabamus, non sine risu. Sed audi catastrophen. A pugna conscendit cubiculum meum puella, concinnatura lectos.

These things in the gardens, we from the
upper room were watching in silence, not without laughter. But hear the catastrophe. From the fight
the girl climbed up to my bedroom, about to arrange the beds.

Inter confabulandum laudo fortitudinem illius, quod voce conviciisque nihil cesserit dominae; ceterum optasse me ut quantum lingua valebat, tantundem valuisset et manibus. Nam hera, virago robusta ut vel athleta videri posset, subinde caput humilioris puellae pugnis contundebat. 'Usque adeone' inquam 'nullos habes ungues, ut ista impune feras?' Respondit illa subridens sibi quidem non tam animum deesse quam vires.

In the course of our confabulation
I praise her fortitude, because by voice and by invectives she had yielded nothing to her mistress;
moreover I had wished that, as much as her tongue was strong, so much her hands had been strong as well,
For the mistress, a robust virago, so that she might even seem an athlete, repeatedly
was pounding the head of the more lowly girl with her fists. 'So utterly,' I say, 'have you
no nails, that you bear those things with impunity?' She replied, smiling, that to herself indeed
not so much spirit was lacking as strength.

'An tu putas' inquam 'bellorum exitus a viribus tantum pendere? Consilium ubique valet plurimum.' Roganti quid haberem consilii, 'Ubi te rursus adorietur,' inquam 'protinus caliendrum detrahe' (nam mulierculae Parisiorum mire sibi placent nigris quibusdam caliendris); 'eo detracto mox in capillos invola.'

'Do you suppose,' I say, 'that the outcomes of wars depend on
strength alone? Counsel everywhere avails most.' When she asked what
counsel I had, 'When she attacks you again,' I say, 'at once take off the
coif' (for the little women of Paris wonderfully please themselves with certain black
coifs); 'that removed, immediately fly at her hair.'

Haec ut a me ioco dicebantur, itidem accipi putabam. Atqui sub cenae tempus accurrit anhelus hospes; is erat Caroli regis caduceator, vulgato cognomine dictus Gentil Gerson. 'Adeste,' inquit 'domini mei, videbitis cruentum spectaculum.' Accurrimus, offendimus matremfamilias ac puellam humi colluctantes.

As these things were being said by me in jest, I thought they would be received likewise. But about the time of dinner
a panting guest runs up; he was King Charles’s herald, commonly by the cognomen called Gentil Gerson.
'Be present,' he says, 'my masters, you will see
a bloody spectacle.' We run up, we encounter the mistress of the household and the girl on the ground
wrestling.

Vix a nobis diremptae sunt. Quam cruenta fuisset pugna res ipsa declarabat. Iacebant per humum sparsa, hic caliendrum, illic flammeum.

They were scarcely torn apart by us. How bloody the fight had been, the fact
itself declared. Scattered over the ground lay, here a caliendrum, there a flammeum (bridal veil).

Glomeribus pilorum plenum erat solum; tam crudelis fuerat laniena. Ubi accubuimus in cena, narrat nobis magno stomacho materfamilias quam fortiter se gessisset puella. 'Ubi pararem' inquit 'illam castigare, hoc est pugnis contundere, illa mihi protinus caliendrum detraxit e capite.' Agnovi me non surdae cecinisse fabulam.

The floor was full of balls of hair; so cruel had the butchery been. When we reclined at dinner, the mother of the household, with great indignation, tells us how bravely the girl had conducted herself. 'When I was preparing,' she says, 'to castigate that one, that is, to pound her with fists, she straightway stripped the coif from my head.' I recognized that I had not sung a tale to a deaf woman.

'Id detractum' inquit 'mihi venefica vibrabat in oculos.' Id non admonueram. 'Tum' inquit 'tantum capillorum evulsit quantum hic videtis.' Coelum ac terram testata est se nunquam expertam esse puellam tam pusillam ac perinde malam. Nos excusare casus humanos et ancipitem bellorum exitum, tractare de componenda in posterum concordia.

'“That thing, torn off,” she says, “the sorceress was brandishing into my eyes.” I had not mentioned that. “Then,” she says, “she tore out as much hair as you see here.” She called heaven and earth to witness that she had never encountered a girl so puny and likewise so wicked. We excused human chances and the two-sided outcome of wars, and handled the matter of composing concord for the future.'

Ego interim mihi gratulabar dominae non subolere rem meo consilio gestam; alioque sensissem et ipse illi non deesse linguam.

Meanwhile I was congratulating myself that the mistress did not scent out the matter carried out by my counsel; and besides I had perceived that I too did not lack a tongue for her.

Habes nostra ludicra; nunc ad seria. Duplicem mecum contentionem acceperas, scribendi et munera mittendi. Altera te plane victum declaras, ut qui alienis manibus mecum dimicare coeperis; an infitiaberis impudens?

You have our amusements; now to serious things. You had accepted with me a double contention,
of writing and of sending gifts. In the latter you plainly declare yourself conquered, inasmuch as you
have begun to contend with me by others’ hands; or will you deny it, impudent one?

Non arbitror, si quid frontis est. Alteram ipse ne suscepi quidem, sed ultro manus dedi. Literis longe vinceris, immo ne pugnas quidem, nisi ut Patroclus Achillis armis.

Not
do I think so, if you have any shame. The other I myself did not even undertake, but of my own accord
I yielded. By letters you are by far defeated, nay, you do not even fight, except as Patroclus
Achilles’ arms.

Muneribus nolo tecum inire certamen. An poeta cum negotiatore? Quid simile?

I do not wish to enter into a contest with you in gifts. Or a poet with
a negotiator (merchant)? What is similar?

Verum heus tu, ad aequiorem concertationem provoco. Experire utrum tu me prius mittendo an ego te scribendo defatigem. Hoc demum sit bellum dignum poeta, dignum institore.

But hey, you, I provoke you to a more equitable contest.
Try whether you will exhaust me first by sending, or I will exhaust you by writing. Let this at last be a war worthy of a poet, worthy of a shopkeeper.

Tu si quid audes, accingere; ac bene vale.

If you dare anything, gird yourself; and fare well.

Parisiis. Anno M.CCCC.XCVII.

At Paris. In the year 1497.

III. A Winter Journey

3. A Winter Journey

(Guilhelmo Montioio Comiti Anglo Erasmus Roterodamus S.D.)

(To William Mountjoy, the English Count, Erasmus of Rotterdam sends greetings.)

Pervenimus tandem et quidem incolumes, tametsi invitis (ut apparet) et superis et inferis. O durum iter! Quem ego posthac Herculem, quem Ulyssem non contemnam?

We have at last arrived, and indeed safe, although, as it appears, with both the supernal and the infernal powers unwilling.
O hard journey! What Hercules, what Ulysses
shall I not disdain hereafter?

Pugnabat Iuno semper poeticis viris infesta; rursum Aeolum sollicitarat; nec ventis modo in nos saeviebat, omnibus armis in nos dimicabat, frigore acerrimo, nive, grandine, pluvia, imbre, nebulis, omnibus denique iniuriis. Hisque nunc singulis nunc universis nos oppugnabat. Prima nocte post diutinam pluviam subitum atque acre obortum gelu viam asperrimam effecerat; accessit nivis vis immodica; deinde grando, tum et pluvia, quae simul atque terram arboremve contigit, protinus in glaciem concreta est.

Juno was warring, always hostile to poetic men; again she had stirred Aeolus;
nor was she raging against us only with winds, she fought against us with all arms,
with most bitter cold, snow, hail, rain, downpour, mists, and, in fine, with all
injuries. And with these, now singly now all together, she was assaulting us. On the first
night after a long-continued rain, a sudden and keen frost having arisen had made the road most rough;
there was added an immoderate force of snow; then hail, then also rain, which
as soon as it touched the earth or a tree, straightway was congealed into ice.

Vidisses passim terram glacie incrustatam, neque id aequali superficie, sed colliculis acutissimis passim exstantibus. Vidisses arbores glacie vestitas adeoque pressas, ut aliae summo cacumine imum solum contingerent, aliae ramis lacerae, aliae medio trunco discissae starent, aliae funditus evulsae iacerent. Iurabant nobis e rusticis homines natu grandes, se simile nihil unquam in vita vidisse antea.

You would have seen the ground everywhere encrusted with ice, and not with a level surface, but with very sharp little hillocks standing out everywhere. You would have seen trees clothed with ice and so pressed down that some with their topmost peak touched the very ground, others with their branches lacerated, others standing split in the middle of the trunk, others torn up from the roots lying utterly prostrate. Men among the rustics advanced in years swore to us that they had never at any time in life seen anything similar before.

Equis interim eundum erat nunc per profundos nivium cumulos, nunc per sentes glacie incrustatos, nunc per sulcos bis asperos, quos primum gelu duraverat, deinde et glacies acuerat, nunc per crustam quae summas obduxerat nives; quod quidem mollius erat quam ut equum sustineret, durius quam ut ungulas non scinderet.

Meanwhile we had to go on horseback, now through deep heaps of snow, now through brambles encrusted with ice, now through furrows doubly rough, which the frost had first hardened and then the ice had sharpened, now over a crust that had overlaid the tops of the snows; which indeed was too soft to support a horse, too hard not to slit the hooves.

Quid inter haec animi Erasmo tuo fuisse credis? Insidebat attonito equo eques attonitus; qui quoties aures erigebat, ego animum deiciebam, quoties ille in genua procumbebat, mihi pectus saliebat. Iam Bellerophon ille poeticus suo terrebat exemplo; iam meam ipse temeritatem exsecrabar, qui mutae beluae vitam et una literas meas commiserim.

What do you think was the state of mind of your Erasmus amid these things? A thunderstruck rider sat upon a thunderstruck horse; and as often as he pricked up his ears, I cast down my spirit, as often as he sank to his knees, my heart leapt. By now that poetic Bellerophon was terrifying me by his example; already I myself was execrating my rashness, in that I had entrusted to a mute beast my life and along with it my letters.

Sed audi quiddam, quod tu credas ex veris Luciani narrationibus petitum, ni mihi ipsi Batto teste accidisset. Cum arx iam ferme in prospectu esset, offendimus omnia undique glacie incrustata, quae ut dixi in nivem inciderat. Et erat tanta ventorum vis, ut eo die unus atque alter collapsi perierint.

But hear something, which you might believe to have been derived from the true narrations of Lucian, if it had not happened to me myself, with Batto as witness. When the citadel was now almost in prospect, we encountered everything on all sides encrusted with ice, which, as I said, had fallen upon the snow. And so great was the violence of the winds, that on that day one and another, having collapsed, perished.

Flabant autem a tergo. Itaque per declive montium me demittebam, per summam glaciem velificans, atque interim hastili cursum moderans. Id erat clavi vice.

But the winds were blowing from behind. Therefore I was letting myself down along the mountains’ declivity, sailing over the very surface of the ice,
and meanwhile moderating my course with a spear-shaft. That served in place of a rudder.

Novum navigandi genus. Toto fere itinere obvius fit nemo, sequitur nemo, adeo non solum saeva sed etiam monstruosa erat tempestas. Quarto vix demum die solem aspeximus.

A new kind of navigating.
Throughout almost the whole journey no one met us, no one followed; so much so that not only
savage but even monstrous was the tempest. Only on the fourth day did we at last barely
behold the sun.

Hoc unum ex tantis malis commodi excerpsimus, quod latronum incursus timuimus minus; timuimus tamen, ut homines pecuniosos decebat.

This one advantage we extracted out of so many evils, that we feared the incursions of brigands less; we did fear them, however, as it was fitting for pecunious men.

Habes iter meum, adolescens generosissime idemque candidissime; quod ut durissimum fuit, ita reliqua fuere secundissima. Vivi pervenimus ad Annam Principem Verianam. Quid ego tibi de huius mulieris comitate, benignitate, liberalitate memorem?

You have my journey, most generous-born and likewise most candid young man; and although it was most hard, yet the rest were most favorable. Alive we arrived at Anna, the Verian Princess. What am I to recount to you of this woman’s comity, benignity, liberality?

Scio rhetorum amplificationes suspectas haberi solere, praesertim iis qui eius artificii rudes non sint. At hic me nihil allevare, immo re vinci artem nostram, mihi credas velim. Nihil unquam produxit rerum natura aut pudentius aut prudentius aut candidius aut benignius.

I know that the amplifications of rhetors are wont to be held suspect,
especially by those who are not novices in that art. But here nothing relieves me,
nay rather, reality conquers our art—believe me, I would wish.
Nature has never produced anything more modest, more prudent, more candid, or more benign.

Quid de meo Batto iactitem, cuius pectore nihil habuit hic orbis simplicius, nihil amantius?

What
should I vaunt of my Battus, in whose breast this orb has had nothing simpler,
nothing more loving?

Haec scribebam in patriam concessurus; deinde adamatam Lutetiam repetam et has ipsas literas fortasse praecurram. Ceterum de nostro convictu nihil certi scribere licet. Tamen consilium ex tempore capietur.

I was writing these things, about to withdraw to my homeland; then I shall return to beloved Lutetia and perhaps I shall outrun these very letters. As for our companionship, nothing certain is permitted to be written. However, counsel will be taken extempore.

Hoc unum tibi persuade, neminem vivere qui te magis ex animo amet quam tuus Erasmus. Battus quoque meus, omnium et amorum et odiorum meorum socius, te pari caritate prosequitur. Cura, mi Guilhelme, ut quam optime valeas.

Persuade yourself of this one thing,
that no one lives who loves you more from the heart than your Erasmus. My Battus too, the associate of all my loves and hatreds, follows you with equal
affection. Take care, my William, to be as well as possible.

Ex arce Tornenhensi pridie nonas Februarias.

From the castle of Tournehem, on February 4.

IV. An English Country-House

4. An English Country-House

(Erasmus Fausto Andrelino Poetae Laureato)

(Erasmus to Faustus Andrelinus, Poet Laureate)

Nos in Anglia nonnihil promovimus. Erasmus ille, quem nosti, iam bonus propemodum venator est, eques non pessimus, aulicus non imperitus, salutat paulo blandius, arridet comius, et invita Minerva haec omnia. Tu quoque, si sapis, huc advolabis.

We in England have advanced not a little. That Erasmus, whom you know, is now almost a good
hunter, not a bad horseman, a courtier not unskilled, he greets a little more blandly, he smiles more graciously, and with Minerva unwilling all these things. You too,
if you are wise, will fly hither.

Quid ita te iuvat hominem tam nasutum inter merdas Gallicas consenescere? Sed retinet te tua podagra; ut ea te salvo pereat male. Quanquam si Britanniae dotes satis pernosses, Fauste, ne tu alatis pedibus huc accurreres; et si podagra tua non sineret, Daedalum te fieri optares.

Why does it so please you, a man so keen-nosed, among French turds
to grow old? But your gout holds you back; may it, with you safe, perish
miserably. Although if you thoroughly knew the endowments of Britain, Faustus, indeed you would run here on winged
feet; and if your gout did not allow it, to be made Daedalus yourself
you would wish.

Nam ut e plurimis unum quiddam attingam, sunt hic nymphae divinis vultibus, blandae, faciles, et quas tu tuis camenis facile anteponas. Est praeterea mos nunquam satis laudatus. Sive quo venis, omnium osculis exciperis; sive discedis aliquo, osculis dimitteris; redis, redduntur suavia; venitur ad te, propinantur suavia; disceditur abs te, dividuntur basia; occurritur alicubi, basiatur affatim; denique quocunque te moves, suaviorum plena sunt omnia.

For, to touch upon one thing out of very many, here there are nymphs with divine visages, charming, affable, and such as you would easily prefer to your own Camenae. Moreover there is a custom never sufficiently praised. Whether wherever you come, you are received with the kisses of all; or whether you depart somewhere, you are dismissed with kisses; you come back, sweet kisses are returned; people come to you, sweet kisses are proffered; people depart from you, kisses are distributed; one is met somewhere, there is kissing in plenty; finally, wherever you move yourself, all things are full of sweet kisses.

Quae si tu, Fauste, gustasses semel quam sint mollicula, quam fragrantia, profecto cuperes non decennium solum, ut Solon fecit, sed ad mortem usque in Anglia peregrinari. Cetera coram iocabimur; nam videbo te, spero, propediem.

If you, Faustus, had once tasted how soft they are, how fragrant, surely you would desire not a decennium only, as Solon did, but to peregrinate in England even unto death. The rest we shall jest about face-to-face; for I shall see you, I hope, before long.

Vale, ex Anglia. Anno M.CCCC.LXXXXIX.

Farewell, from England. In the year 1499.

V. A Visit to Court

5. A Visit to Court

Edidimus olim carmen de laudibus regis Henrici septimi et illius liberorum, nec non ipsius Britanniae. Is erat labor tridui, et tamen labor, quod iam annos aliquot nec legeram nec scripseram ullum carmen. Id partim pudor a nobis extorsit, partim dolor.

We once issued a poem on the praises of King Henry the Seventh and of his children, and also of Britain itself. That was a labor of three days, and yet a labor, since for several years now I had neither read nor written any poem. This partly shame extorted from us, partly dolor.

Pertraxerat me Thomas Morus, qui tum me in praedio Montioii agentem inviserat, ut animi causa in proximum vicum exspatiaremur. Nam illic educabantur omnes liberi regii, uno Arcturo excepto, qui tum erat natu maximus. Ubi ventum erat in aulam, convenit tota pompa, non solum domus illius verum etiam Montioiicae.

Thomas More had drawn me out, who at that time had visited me while I was staying on the estate of Mountjoy, so that for recreation in the nearest village we might take a stroll.
For there all the royal children were being educated, with Arthur alone excepted, who then was the eldest by birth.
When we had come into the court, the whole retinue assembled, not only of that household but also of Mountjoy’s.

Stabat in medio Henricus annos natus novem, iam tum indolem quandam regiam prae se ferens, hoc est animi celsitudinem cum singulari quadam humanitate coniunctam. A dextris erat Margareta, undecim ferme annos nata, quae post nupsit Iacobo Scotorum regi. A sinistris Maria lusitans, annos nata quatuor.

He stood in the middle
Henry, nine years of age, already then bearing before him a certain regal indole, that is, loftiness of spirit conjoined with a certain singular humanity. On
the right was Margaret, nearly eleven years of age, who afterwards married James,
king of the Scots. On the left Mary playing, four years of age.

Nam Edmondus adhuc infans in ulnis gestabatur. Morus cum Arnoldo sodali salutato puero Henrico, quo rege nunc floret Britannia, nescio quid scriptorum obtulit. Ego, quoniam huiusmodi nihil exspectabam, nihil habens quod exhiberem, pollicitus sum aliquo pacto meum erga ipsum studium aliquando declaraturum.

For Edmund was still an infant, being carried in the arms. More, together with his comrade Arnold, after greeting the boy Henry—under which king Britain now flourishes—proffered I-know-not-what of writings. I, since I was expecting nothing of this sort and had nothing to exhibit, promised that somehow I would someday declare my zeal toward him.

Interim subirascebar Moro quod non praemonuisset, et eo magis quod puer epistolio inter prandendum ad me misso meum calamum provocaret. Abii domum, ac vel invitis Musis, cum quibus iam longum fuerat divortium, carmen intra triduum absolvi. Sic et ultus sum dolorem meum et pudorem sarsi.

Meanwhile I was somewhat angered at More for not having forewarned me, and all the more because the boy, an epistlelet sent to me during luncheon, was provoking my reed-pen. I went home, and even with the Muses unwilling—with whom there had already been a long divorce—I brought a poem to completion within three days. Thus I both took vengeance for my pain and mended my shame.

VI. Erasmus at Oxford

6. Erasmus at Oxford

(Erasmus Gulielmo Montioio Comiti Generoso S.D.)

(Erasmus to William Mountjoy, a noble Earl, sends greetings.)

Si tu tuaque generosissima coniunx, socer humanissimus reliquaque familia valetis, est cur maximopere gaudeamus. Nos hic quidem valemus perbelle, et indies bellius. Dici non potest quam mihi dulcescat Anglia tua, idque partim consuetudine, quae omnia dura lenire solet, partim Coleti Charnocique Prioris humanitate, quorum moribus nihil fingi potest suavius, mellitius, amabilius; cum his duobus amicis ego vel in extrema Scythia vivere non recusem.

If you and your most noble spouse, your most humane father-in-law, and the rest of the household are well, there is cause for us to rejoice greatly. We here indeed are exceedingly well, and day by day better. It cannot be told how your England grows sweet to me, and that partly through custom, which is wont to soften all hard things, partly through the humanity of Colet and Prior Charnock, than whose manners nothing can be imagined sweeter, more honeyed, more amiable; with these two friends I would not refuse to live even in farthest Scythia.

Idem quod scripsit Horatius, et vulgus interdum videre verum, res ipsa me docuit; cuius hoc tritum nosti, quarum rerum durissimi soleant esse aditus, eas felicius evenire. Quid nostro illo ingressu fuit, ut ita dicam, inauspicatius? At nunc secundiora indies omnia.

The same thing which Horace wrote, that even the vulgar sometimes see the true, the thing itself has taught me; of which you know this trite maxim, that the things whose approaches are most difficult are wont to turn out more happily. What, in that entry of ours, was, so to speak, more inauspicious? But now all things are day by day more favorable.

Evomui taedium omne quo me quondam nauseantem videbas. Quod reliquum est, to oro, meum decus, ut quando tum cum meus me animus deficiebat, tuo sustinuisti, nunc cum meus mihi non deest, tuus ne destituat.

I have vomited forth all tedium
by which you once saw me nauseated. As for what remains, I beg you, my honor, that
since then, when my spirit was failing me, you sustained me by yours, now, when mine
does not fail me, let not yours desert me.

Quod ad diem praefinitum non veneris, expostulare tecum nec libet, nec iure me posse puto. Quid te retardarit equidem nescio. Hoc unum scio, quicquid fuit, legitimum quiddam et iustum fuisse, quare venire non potueris; nam voluisse nihil dubito.

Because you did not come on the preappointed day, to expostulate with you I neither care to, nor do I think I can by right.
What may have delayed you, indeed I do not know. This one thing I know, whatever
it was, it was something legitimate and just, on account of which you could not come; for
I do not doubt that you were willing.

Neque enim ullam video causam cur istud fingere volueris. Et ea est generosissimae mentis tuae ingenua simplicitas, ut maxima etiam de causa mentiri nec scias si velis, nec velis si scias. Non est meum te vel hortari vel dehortari, immo dehortari potius.

For I see no cause at all why you would have wished to feign that.
And such is the ingenuous simplicity of your most generous mind, that
even for the greatest cause you would neither know how to lie if you wished, nor wish to if you knew.
It is not my part to either exhort or dehort you—indeed, rather, to dehort.

Quod tuae te res hortantur, id sequere. Nos ita te desideramus ut interim te tuis commodis inservire velimus. Si brevi venturus es gaudemus; sin qua res te retinet, modo incommodi nihil sit, ut hactenus fecimus, aequo te animo exspectabimus.

What your affairs exhort you to, follow that. We so desire you that, in the meantime, we wish you to serve your own conveniences. If you are going to come shortly, we rejoice; but if some matter detains you, provided there be no incommodity, as we have done thus far, we shall await you with equanimity.

Pecunias meas anulo tuo diligenter obsignatas mitte. Priori iam sum multis nominibus obaeratus; ministrat ille quidem tum benigne tum prompte. Verum quando ille humanissimi hominis officio functus est, par est nos invicem gratorum hominum munere fungi, et quam ille libenter dedit, tam nos libenter reddere.

Send my moneys, diligently sealed with your ring. To the former I am already overburdened with debt on many notes; he does indeed minister both kindly and promptly. But since he has performed the office of a most humane man, it is fitting that we in turn perform the duty of grateful men, and as willingly as he gave, so willingly to repay.

Ut rara supellectile, ita bonis amicis parcius utendum esse censeo. Si quid istic novatum est, facito me per literas certiorem. Bene vale.

As with rare furnishings, so I judge that good friends are to be used more sparingly. If anything there has been innovated, do make me certain by letter. Fare well.

Oxoniae.

At Oxford.

VII. An Oxford Dinner Party

7. An Oxford Dinner Party

(Erasmus Domino Ioanni Sixtino S.D.)

(Erasmus to Lord John Sixtinus, sends greeting.)

Quam vellem nuper, ut exspectaram, ita nostro illi convivio interfuisses; vero inquam convivio, non symposio. Mihi quidem omnino nullum unquam fuit suavius, lautius, mellitius. Deerat nihil.

How I wish that recently, as I had expected, you had been present at that dinner of ours; a true dinner, I say, not a symposium. For me indeed there has never ever been anything more suave, more luxurious, more honeyed. Nothing was lacking.

Belli homunculi, tempus lectum, locus lectus, apparatus non neglectus. Iis lautitiis ut vel Epicurum ipsum, iis sermonibus conditum erat ut vel Pythagoram delectare posset. Homunculi non belli solum verum etiam bellissimi, et eiusmodi qui Academiam possent facere, non modo convivium.

Pretty little fellows, a chosen time, a chosen place, apparatus not neglected. With such luxuries as would even satisfy Epicurus himself, seasoned with such conversations it was that could even delight Pythagoras. Little fellows not only handsome but most handsome, and of the sort who could make an Academy, not merely a banquet.

Quinam, inquies? Accipe, quo magis te doleas abfuisse. Primum Richardus prior, ille Charitum antistes; tum Theologus is, qui eodem die Latinam habuerat contionem, vir tum modestus tum eruditus; deinde Philippus ille tuus, homo lepidissimae festivitatis.

Who, you will say? Receive this, that you may the more grieve at having been absent. First Richard the prior, that pontiff of the Charites; then the Theologian, who on the same day had held a Latin oration, a man both modest and erudite; then that Philip of yours, a man of most delightful festivity.

Praesidebat Coletus veteris illius theologiae vindex atque assertor. Accumbebat dextra Prior, homo (ita me deus amet) non minus mirabili mixtura ex omnium literarum generibus omnibus, quam ex summa humanitate summaque item integritate conflatus. Ad laevam recentior ille Theologus, cui nos quidem laevum latus clausimus, ne poeta convivio deesset.

Coletus was presiding, the vindicator and assertor of that ancient theology. On the right the Prior was reclining, a man (so may God love me) compounded no less from a marvelous mixture
out of all the genera of letters than from the highest humanity and likewise the highest
integrity. On the left was that more recent Theologian, to whom we indeed closed up the left flank,
so that a poet might not be lacking to the banquet.

Ex adverso Philippus, ne non adesset iurisperitus. Accumbit deinceps mixtum et sine nomine vulgus.

Opposite Philip, so that a jurist might not be lacking. Next there reclines a mixed and nameless crowd.

His ordinibus ita digestis statim bellum oritur inter pocula, non tamen ex poculis neque poculentum. Cum variis de rebus parum conveniebat, tum de hac pugna erat acerrima. Dicebat Coletus Caym ea primum culpa Deum offendisse, quod tanquam conditoris benignitate diffisus suaeque nimium confisus industriae terram primus proscidisset, cum Abel sponte nascentibus contentus oves pavisset.

With these orders thus arranged, straightway war arises among the cups, not however from the cups nor potatory. Since they agreed too little about various matters, then about this fight it was most fierce. Coletus said that Cain had first offended God by this fault, that, as though distrustful of the creator’s benignity and too confident in his own industry, he had first ploughed the earth, whereas Abel, content with things springing of their own accord, had pastured sheep.

Contra, nos pro se quisque niti, Theologus ille syllogismis, ego rhetoriis. Ne Hercules quidem contra duos, aiunt Graeci. At ille unus vincebat omnes; visus est sacro quodam furore debacchari ac nescio quid homine sublimius augustiusque prae se ferre.

On the contrary, we each strove on our own behalf—the Theologian with syllogisms, I with rhetorical arguments. Not even Hercules against two, the Greeks say. Yet he alone was conquering all; he seemed to rave with a certain sacred frenzy, and to display—I know not what—something loftier and more august than a man.

Aliud sonabat vox, aliud tuebantur oculi, alius vultus, alius aspectus, maiorque videri, afflatus est numine quando.

One thing the voice was sounding,
another the eyes were beholding; another the countenance, another the aspect, and he seemed greater,
whenever he was inspired by a numen.

Tandem cum et longius processisset disputatio, et esset quam ut convivio conveniret gravior atque severior, tum ego meis, hoc est poetae, partibus functurus, ut et eam contentionem discuterem et festiviore fabella prandium exhilararem, 'Res' inquam 'perantiqua est et ex vetustissimis auctoribus repetenda; de qua quid ipse in literis reppererim exponam, si prius detis fidem vos id quod sum narraturus pro fabula non habituros.' Ubi promiserant, 'Incidimus' inquam 'olim in vetustissimum codicem, cuius et titulum et auctorem aetas aboleverat tineaeque bonis literis semper infestae deroserant. In eo unica tantum pagina nec erat carie vitiata nec a tineis aut soricibus arrosa, Musis credo quae sua sunt tutantibus. In ea me hac ipsa de re, de qua decernitis, legere memini aut veram aut, si vera non est, certe veri simillimam narrationem; quam si vultis recensebo.'

At length, when the disputation had advanced further, and was graver and more severe than was fitting for a banquet, then I, about to perform my parts—those of a poet—that I might both dispel that contention and enliven the luncheon with a more festive little fable, 'The matter,' I say, 'is very ancient and must be fetched back from the most ancient authors; about which what I myself have found in letters I will set forth, if first you give your pledge that you will not hold what I am about to narrate as a fable.' When they had promised, 'We once chanced upon a most ancient codex,' I say, 'whose title and author time had effaced, and moths, ever hostile to good letters, had gnawed away. In it only a single page was neither marred by rot nor gnawed by moths or mice—the Muses, I believe, guarding what is theirs. On it I remember reading concerning this very matter, about which you are deciding, an account either true, or, if it is not true, at any rate most like to the truth; which, if you wish, I will recount.'

Iubentibus illis 'Erat' inquam 'Caym ille homo quemadmodum industrius, ita famelicus et avidus. Is a parentibus persaepe audierat in viridario illo unde fuissent depulsi, segetes sua sponte provenire laetissimas spicis amplissimis, granis praegrandibus, culmis adeo proceris ut alnum nostratem aequarent; eis nec lolium nec spinam ullam aut carduum internasci. Haec cum ille probe meminisset videretque eam tellurem quam tum vexabat aratro, vix malignam minutamque frugem producere, dolum addidit industriae.

At their bidding, 'There was,' I say, 'that Cain, a man as industrious as he was famished and avid. He had very often heard from his parents that in that viridary whence they had been driven, the crops of their own accord sprang up most luxuriant, with most ample ears, very large grains, stalks so tall as to equal our native alder; and that among them neither darnel nor any thorn or thistle sprang up within. When he had well remembered these things and saw that the soil which he was then vexing with the plough scarcely produced a niggardly and minute crop, he added guile to industry.

Angelum illum paradisi custodem adiit, eumque veteratoriis technis adortus magnis promissis corrupit, ut sibi ex felicioribus illis segetibus vel paucula grana clam largiretur. Dicebat Deum iam olim huius rei securum ac neglegentem esse; tum si maxime rescisset, facile impune futurum, cum res esset nullius momenti, modo de pomis illis nihil attingeretur, de quibus solis fuisset interminatus Deus.

He approached that Angel, the custodian of Paradise, and, assailing him with trickster’s wiles, corrupted him with great promises, that he might secretly bestow upon him even a few grains from those more fortunate crops. He said that God had long since been secure and negligent about this matter; and then, even if He had in the highest degree found it out, it would easily go with impunity, since the affair was of no moment, provided nothing was touched of those apples, about which alone God had threatened.

' "Eia" inquit "ne ianitor sis nimium diligens. Quid si ingrata etiam est illi nimia tua sedulitas? Quid si falli etiam cupit, magisque illum hominum callida industria quam iners otium delectabit?

' "Come now," he says "do not be too diligent a janitor. What if even your excessive sedulity is ungrateful to him? What if he even wishes to be deceived, and will the crafty industry of men please him more than inert leisure?

An vero tu tibi isto munere magnopere places? Ex angelo carnificem te fecit, ut miseros nos et perditos crudelis arceres a patria; te foribus cum rhomphaea alligavit, cui muneri nos canes nuper coepimus addicere. Nos quidem sumus miserrimi, at tu mihi videris conditione non paulo afflictiore.

Or do you indeed greatly please yourself with that office? From an angel he has made you an executioner, so that you, cruel one, might ward us wretched and lost away from our fatherland; he has fastened you to the doors with a rhomphaea, to which duty we have lately begun to assign dogs. We indeed are most wretched, but you seem to me to be in a condition not by a little more afflicted.

Nos quidem paradiso caremus, quia pomum nimium dulce gustavimus. Tu ut inde nos arceas, pariter et coelo cares et paradiso; hoc miserior, quod nobis quidem huc atque illuc, quo fert animi libido, vagari liberum est. Habet et haec nostra regio, si nescis, quibus exsilium nostrum consolemur, nemora comis virentibus, mille arborum genera et quibus vixdum invenimus vocabula, fonticulos passim ex clivis, ex rupibus scaturientes; flumina limpidissimis aquis ripas herbidas lambentia, montes aerios, valles opacas, ditissima maria.

We indeed are without paradise, because we have tasted an apple too sweet.
You, in order to keep us away from there, likewise are deprived both of heaven and of paradise; the more wretched in this, that for us it is free to wander here and there, whither the desire of the spirit carries.
This our region too, if you do not know, has things by which we console our exile: groves green with foliage, a thousand kinds of trees, and for which we have scarcely yet found names, little springs everywhere gushing from hillsides, from rocks;
rivers with most limpid waters licking the grassy banks, aery mountains, shady valleys, richest seas.

Nec dubito quin in intimis illis suis visceribus claudat tellus aliquid bonarum mercium; quas ut eruam, scrutabor omnes eius venas, aut si mihi defuerit aetas, nepotes certe mei facient. Sunt et hic aurea mala, sunt fici pinguissimi, sunt frugum omniiuga genera. Multa adeo passim sponte nascuntur ut paradisum istum non magnopere desideremus, si liceat hic aeternum vivere.

Nor do I doubt that the earth, in those her inmost bowels, encloses some good merchandise; which, that I may unearth, I will search all her veins, or, if lifetime shall fail me, my grandsons surely will do it. There are golden apples here too, there are the very fattest (richest) figs, there are kinds of crops of every sort. So many things, indeed, spring up everywhere of their own accord that we do not greatly long for that paradise, if it were permitted to live here forever.

Infestamur morbis; et huic rei inveniet remedium humana industria. Video herbas mirum quiddam spirantes. Quid si et hic inveniatur aliqua quae vitam faciat immortalem?

We are beset by diseases; and for this matter human industry will find a remedy. I see herbs breathing forth a marvelous something. What if here too some plant be found which makes life immortal?

Nam scientia ista non video quid ad rem pertineat. Quid mihi cum his quae nihil ad me attinent? Quanquam in hac parte non cessabo, quando nihil est quod non expugnet pertinax industria.

For I do not see how that science pertains to the matter. What have I to do with those things which do not pertain to me at all?
Although in this part I will not cease, since there is nothing that pertinacious industry does not conquer.

Ita nos pro uno hortulo mundum latissimum accepimus, tu utrinque exclusus nec paradiso frueris neque coelo neque terra, perpetuo his affixus foribus, rhomphaeam semper versans, quid nisi ut cum vento pugnes? Eia age, si sapis, tibi simul et nobis consule. Da quod sine tuo detrimento largiri potes, et accipe nostra vicissim quae tibi facimus communia.

Thus we, in exchange for one little garden, have received the very broad world, but you, shut out on both sides, enjoy neither paradise nor heaven nor earth, perpetually fastened to these doors, always brandishing the rhomphaea—what else except that you fight with the wind? Come now, go on, if you are wise, look out for yourself and for us at the same time. Give what you can bestow without your own detriment, and in turn receive our things, which we make common with you.

Miser fave miseris, exclusus exclusis, damnatis damnatior."

"Miserable man, favor the miserable; excluded, favor the excluded; condemned,
more damned than the damned."

'Persuasit pessimam causam vir pessimus, orator optimus. Paucula grana furtim accepta diligenter obruit, enata sunt non sine fenore, id fenus rursum terrae gremio commissum, iterumque atque iterum, aliud atque aliud. Nec saepius aestas recurrit, quam ille iam ingentem spatiosumque agrorum tractum hac semente occupavit.

'The worst cause was persuaded by a most wicked man, the best orator. A few grains,
taken stealthily, he carefully buried; they sprang up not without interest; that interest
again committed to the bosom of the earth, again and again, one thing after another. Nor did summer recur more often than he had already occupied, with this seed, a huge and spacious tract of fields.

Quae res ubi evidentior esse coepisset quam ut superos latere posset, vehementer iratus Deus "Quantum intellego" inquit "iuvat hunc furem labor et sudor. Eum ego illi magnifice cumulabo." Simulque cum dicto confertissimum undique agmen immittit in segetem, formicarum, curculionum, bufonum, erucarum, murium, locustarum, scrofarum, avium aliarumque id genus pestium, quae segetem partim adhuc humo conditam, partim herbescentem, partim iam flavam, partim horreo compositam depascerentur. Accessit ingens ex coelo calamitas, grandinis et venti vis tanta ut quernis roboribus aequales culmi illi stipulae aridae in morem defringerentur.

When this matter had begun to be more evident than that it could lie hidden from the gods above, God, vehemently angry, said, “So far as I understand, toil and sweat please this thief. I will heap them upon him magnificently.” And no sooner said than done, he lets loose into the standing grain a most crowded host from every side—of ants, weevils, toads, caterpillars, mice, locusts, sows, birds, and other pests of that kind—which would consume the crop, partly still laid in the ground, partly greening, partly now golden, partly stored in the granary. There was added a huge calamity from heaven, a force of hail and wind so great that those stalks, equal to oaken strengths, were broken off in the manner of dry straw.

Angelus ille custos mutatus atque, quod hominibus faveret, humano corpori inclusus. Caym, cum Deum incensis frugibus placare studeret, nec fumus subvolaret, certam illius iram intellegens desperat.'

That guardian angel was changed and, because he favored human beings,
was enclosed in a human body. Cain, when he strove to placate God with burnt produce,
and the smoke did not rise up, understanding His sure wrath, despairs.'

Habes fabulam, Sixtine, inter pocula dictam atque inibi inter pocula natam, atque adeo ex ipsis, si libet, poculis, quam volui ad te perscribere; primum ne nihil scriberem, cum meas esse partes agnoscerem ut scriberem, quippe qui tuas literas posterior accepissem, deinde ne tu eius convivii tam lauti prorsus expers esses. Bene vale. Oxoniae.

You have the fable, Sixtine, told among the cups and there born among the cups, and indeed, if you like, from the cups themselves, which I wished to write out to you; first, lest I should write nothing, since I acknowledged it to be my part to write, seeing that I had received your letter later, then lest you should be utterly without a share of that banquet so lavish. Fare well. At Oxford.

VIII. Learning in England

8. Learning in England

(Erasmus Roterodamus Piscatori Agenti in Italia Anglo S.D.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam to Fisher, the English agent in Italy, sends greetings.)

Subverebar nonnihil ad te scribere, Roberte carissime, non quod metuerem ne quid de tuo in nos amore tanta temporum locorumque disiunctio detrivisset; sed quod in ea sis regione, ubi vel parietes sint tum eruditiores tum disertiores quam nostrates sunt homines; ut quod hic pulchre expolitum, elegans, venustum habetur, istic non rude, non sordidum, non insulsum videri non possit. Quare tua te exspectat prorsus Anglia non modo iureconsultissimum, verum etiam Latine Graeceque pariter loquacem. Me quoque iampridem istic videres, nisi Comes Montioius iam ad iter accinctum in Angliam suam abduxisset.

I somewhat shrank from writing to you, dearest Robert, not because I feared lest so great a disjunction of times and places had worn away anything of your love toward us; but because you are in that region, where even the walls are both more erudite and more disert than our countrymen are; so that what here is considered beautifully polished, elegant, and winsome, there cannot but seem rough, sordid, and insipid. Wherefore your England awaits you outright not only as the most consummate jurisconsult, but also as equally loquacious in Latin and in Greek. Me too you would long since have seen there, had not Count Mountjoy, when I was already girded for the journey, carried me off into his England.

Quo enim ego iuvenem tam humanum, tam benignum, tam amabilem non sequar? Sequar, ita me deus amet, vel ad inferos usque. Amplissime tu quidem mihi eum praedicaras graphiceque prorsus descripseras; at vincit cotidie, mihi crede, et tuam praedicationem et meam de se existimationem.

For what reason indeed should I not follow a young man so humane, so benign, so
amiable? I will follow—so may God love me—even to the underworld itself. Most amply indeed you had proclaimed him to me and had quite graphically described him;
but he surpasses daily, believe me, both your commendation and my
estimation of him.

Sed quid Anglia nostra te delectat, inquis? Si quid mihi est apud te fidei, mi Roberte, hanc mihi fidem habeas velim, nihil adhuc aeque placuisse. Coelum tum amoenissimum tum saluberrimum hic offendi; tantum autem humanitatis atque eruditionis, non illius protritae ac trivialis, sed reconditae, exactae, antiquae, Latinae Graecaeque, ut iam Italiam nisi visendi gratia haud multum desiderem.

But what in our England delights you, you ask? If I have any credit with you, my Robert, I would like you to hold this faith for me, that nothing has thus far pleased me equally. Here I encountered a climate both most delightful and most salubrious; and so much humanity and erudition, not of that worn and trivial sort, but recondite, exact, ancient, Latin and Greek, that now I desire Italy not much, save for the sake of visiting.

Coletum meum cum audio, Platonem ipsum mihi videor audire. In Grocino quis illum absolutum disciplinarum orbem non miretur? Linacri iudicio quid acutius, quid altius, quid emunctius?

When I hear my Colet, I seem to myself to hear Plato himself.
In Grocyn who would not marvel at that complete circle of disciplines?
In Linacre’s judgment, what is sharper, what loftier, what more polished?

Thomae Mori ingenio quid unquam finxit natura vel mollius vel dulcius vel felicius? Iam quid ego reliquum catalogum recenseam? Mirum est dictu quam hic passim, quam dense veterum literarum seges efflorescat; quo magis debes reditum maturare.

Than the genius of Thomas More, what has nature ever fashioned either more gentle or sweeter or
more felicitous? Now why should I review the remaining catalog? It is marvelous to say how
here everywhere, how densely, the crop of ancient letters blossoms; wherefore all the more you ought
to hasten your return.

Comes ita te amat, ita meminit, ut de nullo loquatur saepius, de nullo libentius. Vale.

The Count loves you so, remembers you so, that of no one does he speak
more often, of no one more gladly. Farewell.

Londini tumultuarie. Nonis Decembr. <1499>

In London tumultuarily. On the Nones of December <1499>

IX. A Journey to Paris

9. A Journey to Paris

(Erasmus Batto S.P.D.)

(Erasmus to Batto, sends very many greetings.)

Multis nominibus tibi gratias agere debeo, mi Batte, qui vigilias meas, hoc est opes, miseris, cum mature, quod non soles, tum optima fide, ut consuesti facere; denique per tabellionem non modo diligentem verum etiam facundum, ita ut mihi non illius labori modo verum etiam orationi fuerit referenda merces. Verum artem arte lusimus et iuxta vetus proverbium contra Cretensem Cretizavimus.

I owe you thanks under many headings, my Batto, you who have carried my vigils— that is, my resources— to the poor, both promptly, which you are not wont to do, and with the best good faith, as you are accustomed to do; finally, through a tabellion not only diligent but even facund, so that for me a fee had to be repaid not only for his labor but even for his oration. But we played art with art, and, according to the old proverb, we Cretanized against the Cretan.

Anglica fata Parisios usque nos sunt persecuta. En tibi alteram narro tragoediam priore etiam atrociorem! Pridie Calendas Februarias Ambianos pervenimus, bone deus, quam duro itinere!

The English fates have pursued us all the way to Paris. Behold, I tell you another tragedy, even more atrocious than the former! On the day before the Kalends of February we arrived at Amiens—good God, how hard a journey!

Iuno, opinor, aliqua rursus Aeolum in nos excitarat. Ego cum iam de via ita essem affectus ut morbum etiam metuerem, coepi de equis conducendis cogitare, non paulo praestare ratus corpusculo quam nummulis parcere. Et hic sunt ad perniciem secunda omnia.

Juno, I suppose, had again somehow stirred up Aeolus
against us. I, since by the journey I was now so affected that I even
feared sickness, began to think about hiring horses, judging it by no small degree better
to spare my little body than the little coins. And here all favorable things are for our perdition.

Dum diversorium solitum peto, obiter forte aedes praetereo quasdam equis locandis inscriptas. Ingredior, advocatur locator, homo effigie et habitu ita adamussim Mercurium referens ut mihi primo quoque congressu furis suspicionem dederit. Convenit de mercede.

While I am seeking the usual inn, in passing by chance I go by certain houses inscribed for letting out horses.
I enter; the lessor is called, a man in visage and attire so exactly representing Mercury that at the very first encounter he gave me a suspicion of a thief.
We agree about the fee.

Conductis duobus equis iter sub vesperum ingredimur, comitante iuvene quodam, quem generum esse suum aiebat, qui iumenta domum referret. Postridie ad viculum quendam, cui divo Iuliano nomen est, perventum est et quidem multa adhuc luce, locum latrocinio destinatum. Ego ut pergeremus hortabar.

With two horses hired we entered upon the journey toward evening, with a certain youth accompanying, whom he said was his son-in-law, who would carry the beasts of burden back home. The next day we arrived at a certain little village, named for Saint Julian, and indeed with much daylight still remaining, a place destined for latrociny. I urged that we should go on.

Ille latronis discipulus causari, equos non esse supra vires defatigandos, satius esse illic pernoctare ac postridie id dispendii anticipata luce sarcire. Non repugnabam magnopere, nihil etiamdum sceleris suspicans. Iam propemodum cenaveramus, cum ministra iuvenem illum una nobiscum accumbentem a convivio sevocat, alteri equo nescio quid mali esse dictitans.

That disciple of the bandit alleged,
that the horses ought not to be over-fatigued beyond their powers, that it was more advisable to spend the night there and
on the next day to repair that loss of time by anticipating the light. I was not greatly opposing,
suspecting as yet nothing of crime. We had now pretty much taken supper, when the serving-woman
calls away that young man, reclining together with us, from the banquet, saying repeatedly that to the other horse
there was I-know-not-what of ill.

Discedit adolescens sed eo vultu ut aliud nuntiatum intellegeres. Ego continuo puellam revocans, 'Heus' inquam 'filia, uter equorum male habet, meusne an huius?' Nam aderat Anglus itineris mei comes. 'Et quid tandem est mali?' Illa conscientiam constanter dissimulare non valens subrisit, et figmentum confessa venisse notum quendam aiebat, qui iuvenem ad colloquium evocasset.

The adolescent departs, but with such a countenance that you would understand something else had been announced.
I, immediately recalling the girl, say, 'Hey, daughter, which of the horses is ill, mine or his?' For there was present an Englishman, companion of my journey.
'And what, then, is the malady?' She, not being able steadfastly to dissimulate her conscience, smiled, and, confessing the figment, said that a certain acquaintance had come, who had summoned the youth to a colloquy.

Nec ita multo post locator ipse, qui iugulos nostros victimae destinarat, cenaculum ingreditur. Nos admirari, rogare quidnam accidisset, quod tam inexspectatus atque improvisus adesset. Ait se rem adferre flebilem, filiam suam, eius iuvenis uxorem, ita ab equo calcibus percussam ut iam animam propemodum ageret; tumultuario itinere sese accurrisse, ut eum domum revocaret.

Not much later the lessor himself, who had destined our throats for sacrifice as a victim, enters the upper room. We marvel, ask what had happened,
that he was present so unexpected and unforeseen. He says that he brings a lamentable matter,
his daughter, the wife of that youth, so struck by a horse with its hooves
that she was now almost breathing out her life; that by a tumultuary journey he had run up, so as to
recall him home.

Mihi iam tum commentum obolere coepit. Utriusque vultum et gestus curiosius observo. In locatore ilico inconstantiam quandam animadverto, in iuvene stuporem qui e regione accumbebat; ac mecum protinus Ciceronianum illud, Nisi fingeres, non sic ageres.

Already by then I began to smell a contrivance. I observe more closely the face and the gestures of both. In the lessor I at once notice a certain inconstancy, in the young man who was reclining opposite a stupefaction; and straightway to myself that Ciceronian saying: Unless you were feigning, you would not act thus.

Iam mihi nihil agendum putabam, nisi ut ab homine absolverer, quippe qui nihil usquam viderem quod non latrocinium saperet. Augebant anteacta suspicionem, quod cum Ambianis de mercede convenisset, ille data opera me rogavit quasnam esset pecunias accepturus. Subito aderant, nec scio unde emersissent, qui sermonibus adiuvabant fabulam.

By now I thought I had nothing
to be done, except to be absolved from the man, since I saw nothing anywhere
that did not savor of latrociny. The things done before were augmenting the suspicion, because
when he had come to terms with the Ambiani about the wage, he, with set purpose, asked me what
sums of money I was to receive. Suddenly there were present—I do not know whence they had emerged—those who
by their talk were assisting the fable.

Mihi laudabant locatorem, gratulabantur de tali comite, me vicissim locatori commendabant. Rogabat semel atque iterum locator ecquem haberem postulatum, id est nomisma rarius. Nego mihi esse.

They were praising the lessor to me, congratulating me on such a companion, and in turn recommending me to the lessor. He, the lessor, asked once and again whether I had any postulatum, that is, a rarer coin. I say that I have none.

Deprompsi scutatum unum atque alterum, qui tametsi satis probarentur, tamen blandius efflagitabat ut e multis quos habere me putabat, unum aliquem bellissimum darem. Est enim hoc huius sceleratissimae artis caput, explorare quantum quisque viator secum portet. Ostendebam quos tum habebam, e quibus ille bellissimum sibi retinuit.

I drew out a scutatus, one and then another, which although they were approved well enough,
yet he kept more coaxingly demanding that, from among the many whom he supposed me to have, I should give some one most beautiful.
For this is the chief of this most criminal art: to explore how much each viator carries with him.
I was showing those which I then had, from which
he retained the most beautiful for himself.

Accedebant ad maleficii coniecturam quaedam a iuvene in itinere dicta ac facta; quae consilio soceri de composito praeparata videri possent. E duobus equis alter erat ignavissimus, ut in fuga nihil futurum esset praesidii. Is cui ego insidebam, in collo vulnus ingens habebat adhuc unguentis oblitum.

There were added to the conjecture of malefice certain things said and
done by the youth on the journey; which could seem to have been prepared by the counsel of his father-in-law by preconcerted arrangement. Of the two
horses one was most spiritless, so that in flight there would be no safeguard. That one
on which I was sitting had on its neck a huge wound, still smeared with unguents.

Non ita procul aberamus ab urbe, rogat iuvenis sibi liceat a tergo meo in lumbos equi conscendere, iumentum assuetum ferendis duobus, ne quid metuerem equo. 'Sero' inquit 'exivimus, hoc celerius perveniemus.' Passus sum; oritur sermo variis de rebus. Sic loquitur de socero quasi non optime de illo sentiret.

We were not so far from the city, the young man asks that it be permitted him to mount behind me onto the horse’s loins, the animal accustomed to carrying two, so that I should fear nothing on the horse.
'Late,' he says, 'we have set out; by this we shall arrive more quickly.' I allowed it; conversation arises about various matters.
Thus he speaks about his father-in-law as if he did not think very well of him.

Est et hoc unum e latronum mysteriis. Interea crumena mea defluit in tergum, inerant autem octo ferme coronati aurei. Is reponit ad umbilicum.

There is also this one thing among the brigands’ mysteries. Meanwhile my purse slips down onto my back; inside, however, there were about eight crowned gold aurei. He puts it back at my umbilicus.

Rursum defluentem reponit, admonens ut crumena semper sit in oculis. Ego ridens 'Quorsum' inquam 'attinet servare vacuam?' Obscura iam nocte nemus quoddam emensi tandem in vicum quendam emersimus. Iuvenis circumspectans fingit se nescire ubinam locorum esset, ducit nos in aedes nescio quas.

Again he puts it back as it is slipping, admonishing that the purse should always be in
one’s eyes. I, laughing, say, ‘To what does it pertain to preserve it empty?’ With night now
dark, having traversed a certain grove, at last we emerged into a certain village. The youth,
looking around, pretends he does not know where in the world he is; he leads us into a house
I know not what.

Iubeo ut iuvenis ipse se curet suo more, nos utrique ieiuni cubitum imus. Anglus hoc religioni dabat, ego valetudini; nam graviter e stomacho laborabam. Accedit mulier, nobis ut putabat altum dormientibus, multa cum ignoto illo, ut simulabat, iuvene familiarissime collocuta est.

I bid that the youth himself take care of himself in his own manner, we both fasting
go to bed. The Englishman put this down to religion, I to health; for I was laboring grievously from the stomach.
A woman approaches, we, as she supposed, sleeping deep;
she conversed most familiarly about many things with that, as she pretended, unknown youth.

Tandem iuvene submonente reliquus sermo sibilis peractus est, ut exaudire non possem.

At length, the young man prompting, the remaining conversation in whispers was carried through, so that I could not make it out.

Ante lucem extrudo eos ad iter. Toto itinere tracto iuvenem sane comiter. Ubi perventum est ad oppidum cui nomen Claro Monti, paro ingredi, non illic acturus noctem sed aurum commutaturus, ne quid ea res esset in mora in vico pernoctantibus.

Before dawn I drive them out for the journey. Through the whole journey I treat the youth quite affably. When we had arrived at a town whose name is Clermont, I prepare to enter, not there intending to spend the night but to exchange gold, lest that matter be any delay for us when spending the night in the village.

Dissuadet iuvenis, affirmans sibi satis esse monetae argenteae. Itaque ad laevam oppido relicto pergimus. Iam vico proximi cum essemus, forte praecesserat Anglus una cum iuvene, ego sequor,

The young man dissuades, affirming that he has enough of silver coin. And so to the left, the town having been left behind, we go on. Now when we were very near to the village it happened that the Englishman had gone on ahead together with the youth, I follow,

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . sicut meus est mos, nescio quid meditans nugarum et totus in illis.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . as is my custom, meditating I-know-not-what of trifles and wholly in them.

Interim imprudente me descenderat Anglus. Iuvenis adduxerat equum ad fores, ubi nunquam fuerat diversorium. Ubi sensi, demiror quid cogitet.

Meanwhile, with me unaware, the Englishman had dismounted. The youth had led the horse to the doors, where there had never been a lodging. When I perceived it, I marvel at what he is thinking.

Ille circumspectans negat se illic intra quatuordecim fuisse annos. Rogat quod mihi placeat diversorium. 'Quid si huc' inquit 'divertamus?' et ostendit domum destinatam.

He looking around, denies that he had been there within 14 years. He asks what lodging would please me. 'What if we turn aside here?' he says, and he shows the designated house.

Non abnuo, memor quod illic olim sat commode acceptus fuissem, sed ignarus hospitem esse mutatum. Datur ex more cubiculum. Apponitur vinum, sed male respondens palato.

I do not refuse, remembering that there once I had been quite commodiously received, but unaware that the host had changed. A room is given according to custom. Wine is set on, but ill answering to the palate.

Atqui vix eramus ingressi, cum video ignoto illi iuveni in culina vinum in vitro appositum, eo colore ut mihi gratularer. Hac igitur spe frustratus descendo, expostulo cum hospite; mutatur vinum. Haec iam tum mirabar magis quam habebam suspecta.

And yet we had scarcely entered, when I see, for that unknown youth in the kitchen, wine set in glass, of such a color that I congratulated myself. Therefore, frustrated of this hope, I go down and remonstrate with the host; the wine is changed. These things already then I marveled at more than I held them suspect.

Quare (ut ad intermissum narrationis ordinem redeam) iam certa suspicione latrocinii id agere coepi quo me cultro subducerem. 'Quid igitur' inquam 'tibi in animo est?' 'Ego' inquit 'fortasse vos Parisios deportabo, verum huic genero plane domum est recurrendum.' 'Immo' inquam 'commodius dabo consilium. Quando casus tam acerbus vobis accidit, ut tu filiam, hic uxorem prope perdiderit, illud vestra causa faciam.

Wherefore (that I may return to the interrupted order of the narration) now with a certain suspicion of latrociny I began to do that by which I might extricate myself by a knife.
'What then,' I say, 'have you in mind?' 'I,' he says, 'shall perhaps deport you to Paris, but this son-in-law plainly must return home.' 'Nay rather,' I say, 'I will give a more commodious counsel. Since so bitter a mischance has befallen you, that you nearly lost your daughter, and he his wife, I will do that for your sake.

Habes a me scutatum sole insignem, restant passuum quatuordecim milia; diminue de ratione mercedis quantum de itinere superest, ac redite. Nos reliquum iter aut pedibus conficiemus aut equos mutabimus.' Caput quatiebat homo, deinde descendit, iuvene relicto mira latrocinii peritia ut quid nobis esset sententiae per hunc expiscaretur. Hic ego accito adolescente 'Heus,' inquam 'quaeso, verum dicas, quidnam de uxore tua, cedo?' Confessus est rem commenticiam, verum socero necessarium esse iter Parisios, ut creditum repeteret.

You have from me an écu marked with a sun; there remain 14,000 paces; diminish from the reckoning of the wage as much as remains of the journey, and return. We will finish the remaining journey either on foot or we will change horses.' The man was shaking his head, then he dismounted, leaving the young man behind, with a wondrous expertise in brigandage, so that through him he might fish out what our intention was. Here I, the adolescent having been called over, said: 'Hey, please, tell the truth, what about your wife, come on?' He confessed the affair was concocted, but that for his father-in-law a journey to Paris was necessary, in order to recover a loan.

'Ne quid' inquit 'illius oratione commoveare. Quin vos cras summo diluculo equos conscendite, nos utrique consequamur.' 'Atqui non temere est' inquam 'quod nos tanto itinere tam repente assequitur, et quidem noctu, tum die tam sacro.' Erat enim postridie Virginis matris purgatio. 'Et quorsum' inquam 'attinet tot concinnare mendacia?' Iussit me adolescens bono esse animo, se omnia ex mea facturos esse sententia.

'That you not' he says 'be moved at all by his oration. Rather, you tomorrow at the very daybreak mount your horses, let the two of us follow after.' 'But it is not rash' I say 'that something overtakes us after so long a journey so suddenly—indeed by night, then on so sacred a day.' For on the next day was the Purification of the Virgin Mother. 'And to what end' I say 'is it to concoct so many mendacities?' The adolescent bade me be of good cheer, that they would do everything according to my judgment.

'Quod si quid ille gravetur,' inquit 'ego non deseram te, donec mihi rumpatur cor'; atque haec vultu illo stupido. Ita adsimulabat sese, tanquam furtim mihi contra socerum studeret; deinde descendit et ille, quid nisi ut praeceptori suo rem renuntiaret.

'But if he should make any difficulty,' he says,
'I will not desert you, until my heart bursts'; and he said these things with that
stupid face. Thus he pretended himself, as though he were secretly favoring me against my father-in-law;
then he too dismounted—what, except to report the matter to his preceptor?

Interea solitudinem nactus Anglum rogo quid tandem ipsi videretur. Is praeter latrocinium paratum nihil se videre respondit. 'At quid' inquam 'consilii?' Iam nox erat profunda.

Meanwhile, having found solitude, I ask the Englishman what, at length, seemed to him. He replied that he saw nothing except prepared brigandage. 'But what,' I say 'of counsel?' By now the night was profound.

Venit interea cauponaria lectos instratura; rogo ubinam essemus cubituri, lectum ostendit. 'Et ubi reliqui duo?' 'In altero' inquit 'hoc lecto'; qui communi cubiculo continebatur. Tum ego 'Est mihi' inquam 'quiddam nugarum transigendum cum hoc meo comite; sine nos in hoc cubiculo cubitare solos, dabitur merces utroque pro lecto.' Ibi venefica mulier et quid ageretur haud ignara primum suadere coepit ut una potius cubaremus; eos esse viros probos, nec causam esse quo minus illos in cubiculo dormire vellemus.

Meanwhile the hostess came to make up the beds;
I ask where we were going to lie down; she shows a bed. “And where are the other
two?” “In the other,” she says, “this bed”; which was contained in a common bedroom. Then
I: “I have some trifles to settle with this my companion; allow
us to sleep in this bedroom alone; the price will be given for both beds.” Thereupon the
sorceress-woman, and not unaware of what was being done, first began to advise that we should rather
sleep together; that they were upright men, and that there was no cause why we should not be willing for them to sleep in the
bedroom.

Si quid inter nos haberemus communicandum, id sermone nostrate licere fieri; sin pecuniae nostrae timeremus, illis servandam committeremus, ovem (ut aiunt) lupo. Et ut malefica dignum erat, manifestaria vanitate reliqua cubicula iam hospitibus occupata ementiebatur, quando praeter nos nemo in iis aedibus erat hospes. Quid multa?

If we had anything to be communicated between us, that
might be done in our vernacular; but if we were afraid for our money, we would commit it to them for keeping— a sheep (as they say) to a wolf. And as was worthy of a witch, with flagrant vanity she was lying that the remaining bedchambers were already occupied by guests,
when besides us no one in that house was a guest. What more?

Argumentis victa obstinate sese id facturam negabat. Iubeo fores igitur aperiat ac nos aliquo eiciat. Ne id quidem se facturam affirmat, descenditque irata ac submurmurans et homicidae illi rem omnem renuntiat, me de gradibus subauscultante.

By arguments conquered, she obstinately denied that she would do that. I therefore order that she open the doors and cast us out somewhere. She affirms that she will not do even that either, and, descending in anger and sub-murmuring, she reports the whole matter to that homicide, I from the steps sub-auscultating (eavesdropping).

In Anglo nihil erat neque animi neque consilii neque linguae; nam Gallice prorsus nesciebat. Mihi primum illud visum est esse consultissimum, obice ferreo occludere cubiculi ostium, obiecto et ingenti scamno querno. Verum id consilium mox displicuit reputanti nos in tam vastis aedibus solos obiici pluribus; et iam multa nox erat, nec usquam vociferatio potuisset exaudiri, nisi qua parte cubiculum spectabat viam publicam: at illic obstabat templum monasterii cuiusdam.

In the Englishman there was nothing of spirit nor of counsel nor of language; for he knew French
utterly not at all. To me at first that seemed to be most advisable, with an iron bolt to shut
the door of the bedchamber, a huge oaken bench also set against it. But that counsel soon
displeased me, on reconsideration that we, alone in so vast a house, were exposed to several;
and already it was deep night, nor anywhere could a vociferation have been heard, except on that
side where the bedchamber looked toward the public way: but there the temple of a certain
monastery stood in the way.

Interea dum circumspicio melius aliquod consilium, nec satis occurrit, puella pulsat fores. Ego clanculum submoto scamno rogo quid velit. Respondit nescio quid se adferre, sed voce alacri.

Meanwhile, while I look around for some better counsel, and nothing satisfactory occurs, the girl knocks at the door.
I, secretly, having moved the bench aside, ask what she wants.
She replies that she is bringing I know not what, but with alacrity in her voice.

Aperio fores, blandior et adludo puellae, quo metum dissimulem. Sedemus interim tanquam duae victimae mactatorem exspectantes. Convenit tamen inter nos ut otiose sobrieque fabularemur ad ignem absque potatione, donec indusiati caligatique vicissim dormiremus ac vigilaremus.

I open the doors,
I blandish and play with the girl, so that I may dissemble my fear. We sit meanwhile like
two victims awaiting the slaughterer. It is agreed, however, between us that we would otiosely
and soberly chat by the fire without potation, until, tunic-clad
and booted, we should in turn sleep and keep vigil.

Paulo post ingreditur bonus ille vir, tanquam omnium rerum ignarus; observo hominem oculis diligenter. Quo fixius contemplor, eo certius latronem video; qui cum tandem se una cum suo tirone lecto composuisset, consequimur et nos, nec ea nocte quicquam sensimus, nisi quod experrectus Anglus gladium, quem ad pulvinum locaverat, longe amotum in extremum usque cubiculi angulum repperit. Nam duobus nobis unicus duntaxat erat ensis ac chirotheca loricata; haec erat nostra panoplia.

A little after enters that good man, as though ignorant of all things; I observe the man with my eyes diligently. The more fixedly I contemplate, the more certainly I see a brigand; who, when at last he, together with his tyro, had composed himself on the bed, we follow suit as well, nor that night did we perceive anything, except that, on waking, the Englishman found the sword, which he had placed by the pillow, removed far away into the farthest corner of the bedchamber. For for the two of us there was only a single sword and an armored gauntlet; this was our panoply.

Ego multo ante diluculum consurgo, fenestras ac fores cubiculi aperio. Iam lucescere clamo, strepo, familiares expergefacio. Dum finem non facio, ibi latro voce quam diceres esse non somnolenti, 'Quid paras?' inquit.

I rise long before daybreak, I open the windows and the doors of the bedchamber. Already I shout that it is getting light, I make a din, I rouse my companions. While I do not stop, there the robber, in a voice which you would say was not somnolent, says, 'What do you prepare?'

'Vixdum est hora noctis undecima.' Ego contra clamo coelum esse densissimis obductum nebulis, mox clarum diem emicaturum. Quid multis? Adfertur lucerna.

'Scarcely
is it the eleventh hour of the night.' I, on the contrary, shout that the sky is overcast with the densest
clouds, that soon a bright day will flash forth. What need of many words? A
lamp is brought.

Interea ut observarem quid ageretur in inferioribus aedibus, decurro; obambulans ac circumspectans offendo latronum equos stantes ephippiis impositis, quomodo necesse erat eos totam stetisse noctem, cum praeter modo excitatam puellam nemo non esset in stratis. Tandem surgunt et nostri carnifices. Ibi res quaepiam incommoda, ut videbatur, nobis saluti fuit.

Meanwhile, that I might observe what was being done in the lower apartments, I run down; walking about and looking around I come upon the robbers’ horses standing with saddles set on, as it was necessary that they had stood the whole night, since, apart from the girl just now roused, everyone was in their beds. At length our executioners too rise. There a certain incommodious circumstance, as it seemed, proved our salvation.

Nihil enim latronem illum exciverat, nisi quod nos quam pecuniosissimos esse existimaret; at haec una res illi fidem facere potuit nos tenui pecunia esse. Minusculum erat argenteae pecuniae quam ut cauponi pro cena atque equis omnium satisfacere possem. Aut igitur ille aureum mutaret iussi, aut locator meo nomine quinque duodenarios (tantum enim deerat) redderet, apud divum Dionysium a me recepturus.

For nothing had roused that bandit, except that he supposed us to be as wealthy as could be; but this one thing could make him put faith in the fact that we were of slender means. There was too little silver money for me to be able to satisfy the innkeeper for the dinner and for the horses of all. Either then I ordered that he change an aureus, or that the lessor, in my name, should pay five duodenarii (for that was the amount lacking), to recover it from me at the shrine of divine Dionysius.

Cauponaria neque sibi lances domi, neque qui mutaret aurum esse iurabat. Latro ille ait se ea quidem lege facturum, si sibi aureum pignoris loco tradidissem; hortabatur impendio id ut facerem cauponaria, mulier ut scelesta, ita et impudens et stulta; inde multa ac longa inter nos rixa. Poscebam mihi fores aperiret, me ipsum mutandi auri causa monasterii Priorem, quod e regione est, aditurum; illa negabat.

The innkeeper-woman swore that she had neither scales at home, nor anyone to change gold. That robber said he would indeed do it on that condition, if I had handed over to him the gold-piece as a pledge; the innkeeper urged earnestly that I should do this, a woman who, as she was wicked, so too was she impudent and foolish; thence much and long wrangling between us. I demanded that she open the doors for me, that I myself, for the sake of changing the gold, would go to the Prior of the monastery, which is over against; she refused.

Rixatum est ad lucem usque. Tandem iussi sumus aurum quod mutatum vellemus proferre; protuli. Ibi alii nummo pondus deerat, alius adulterina materia dicebatur, alius parum solidus; hoc nimirum consilio, ut si quid reconditi esset auri, id proferre cogeremur.

The wrangling went on until daybreak. At length we were ordered to bring forth the gold which we wished to have exchanged; I brought it out. There one coin was lacking in weight, another was said to be of adulterated material, another not solid enough; with this counsel, to wit, that if there were any hidden gold, we should be compelled to bring it forth.

Ego cum sancte adiurassem mihi praeter eos nullos esse aureos, 'At comitem' inquit 'quin tu suos proferre iubes? Video enim illum belle esse nummatum'; idque iam blandius coepit poscere. Ego vero vultu et voce, ita ut solent et vera et ex animo loquentes, nihil comiti praeter syngrapham esse deiero.

When I had solemnly sworn that I had no gold pieces beyond those, “But your companion,” he says, “why don’t you bid him to bring forth his own? For I see that he is nicely well-moneyed”; and this he now began to press for more coaxingly. But I, with face and voice, as those are wont who speak both truly and from the heart, swear that my companion has nothing except a syngraph (promissory note).

Profertur denique libripens, prodit et caupo; ibi libratum est sesquihoram, nec aureus erat cui non aliquid scrupulorum deesset. In aliis deerat ponderi, in aliis causabantur materiam. Animadverti tandem et lancibus subesse fraudem et ponderi.

At length the libripens is brought forth, and the innkeeper comes out as well; there it was weighed for an hour and a half, nor was there a gold coin to which some scruples were not lacking. In some there was a deficiency in the weight; in others they were pleading the material. At last I noticed that fraud lay beneath both the scale-pans and the weight.

Et forte fortuna id quod erat gravius manu corripio, caupone tum imprudente. Reliquum erat ut altero ponderaret, et repente utraque lance aureus praeponderabat. In utramque lancem translatus erat, eam inclinabat.

And by fortunate chance I snatch with my hand the one that was heavier, the innkeeper then unwitting. It remained to weigh with the other, and suddenly in either pan the gold piece preponderated. Transferred into either pan, it made that one incline.

Erat enim nummus pervetustus, cui supererat ultra legitimum pondus; ut in his decrescunt omnia.

For the coin was very ancient, which had remaining beyond the legitimate weight; just as in these all things decrease.

Iam iugulis nostris utcunque consultum erat, nihilque agebatur nisi ut lucelli aliquid per calumniam abraderent. Tum latro ille spe propemodum frustratus sua, vel quod parum magnifice nos nummatos intellegeret, vel quod se iam in certam suspicionem nobis venisse videret meque nonnihil etiam minitantem, denique quod iam multus esset dies, cauponem sibi nimis quam familiarem a nobis sevocat. Aureum inter sese mutant, pro cena et equis retinent quantum libuit.

By now a provision had somehow been made for our throats, and nothing was being done except that they might scrape off some little lucre by calumny. Then that robber, almost frustrated of his hope, either because he understood us as not very magnificently moneyed, or because he saw that he had now come into certain suspicion with us, and me even somewhat menacing, finally, because the day was now far spent, calls away from us the innkeeper, only too familiar to himself. They exchange a gold-piece between themselves, and for the supper and the horses they retain as much as it pleased.

Accepi viginti tres denarios, equidem laetus: tum metu, quantum mea fert simplicitas, dissimulato, 'Quin' inquam 'iam equos conscendimus?' Stabat etiamdum otiosus locator ille. 'Quid tibi' inquam 'in animo est? Cur non hinc fugimus?

I received twenty-three denarii, indeed glad: then
with my fear, in so far as my simplicity allows, concealed, I say, 'Why don’t we mount the horses now?'
That lessor still stood idle. 'What is in your mind?' I say, 'Why do we not flee from here?'

An ire ne nunc quidem paratus es?' 'Non sum,' inquit 'nisi universam summam reddideris.' 'Et quantum tandem poscis?' inquam. Poscit impudentissime quantum libitum erat, et quantum poscere conveniebat impudentissimum latronem. 'Duc igitur' inquam 'ita ut recepisti me Parisios, atque illic ratione inita quod tuum erit accipies.' At ille 'Quid' inquit 'mihi Parisiis des, qui hic etiam mecum pugnas?' Sapiebat, non passus est se e suo latrocinio extrahi; nam a me quidem ista fingebantur, quippe cui nihil minus fuerit in animo quam cum carnificibus illis itineri me committere.

'Are you not prepared to go even now?' 'I am not,' he says, 'unless you have paid back the entire sum.' 'And how much, pray, do you demand?' I say. He most impudently demands as much as it pleased him, and as much as it was fitting for a most impudent robber to demand. 'Lead me then,' I say, 'just as you received me, to Paris, and there, an account having been entered into, you will receive what will be yours.' But he: 'What will you give me at Paris, you who even here are fighting with me?' He was savvy; he did not allow himself to be extracted from his brigandage; for on my side indeed these things were being feigned, since nothing was less in my mind than to commit myself to a journey with those executioners.

Paulisper rixatus, cum ille nihil se commoveret, ad sacrum me ire fingo; verum recta transmisso flumine Parisios peto, nec prius latronis sicam timere desivimus, quam Dionysius nos moenibus suis exciperet. Postridie Calendas Februarias Lutetiam pervenimus, itinere vexati, exhausti pecuniis.

After quarreling for a little while, since he did not move at all, I pretend that I am going to a sacred service; but straightway, the river having been crossed, I make for Paris, nor did we cease to fear the robber’s dagger until Dionysius received us within his walls. On the day after the Kalends of February we arrived at Lutetia, harried by the journey, exhausted of monies.

X. Erasmus Renders Account of Himself to Colet

10. Erasmus Renders Account of Himself to Colet

(Erasmus Ioanni Coleto S.P.D.)

(Erasmus to John Colet, sends very many greetings.)

Si vel amicitia nostra, doctissime Colete, vulgaribus causis coiisset, vel tui mores quicquam unquam vulgi sapuisse visi essent, vererer equidem nonnihil, ne ea tam longa tamque diuturna locorum ac temporum seiunctione, si non interisset, certe refrixisset. Nunc quoniam te mihi doctrinae cuiusdam singularis admiratio amorque pietatis, me tibi spes fortasse nonnulla vel opinio potius harum rerum conciliavit, non puto metuendum esse, quod vulgo videmus accidere, ne ideo desierim esse in animo quod absim ab oculis. Quod autem compluribus iam annis nihil a Coleto redditur literarum, vel occupationes tuas, vel quod certum non scires ubi locorum agerem, denique quidvis potius in causa fuisse mihi persuaserim quam oblivionem amiculi.

If either our friendship, most learned Colet, had come together from vulgar causes, or your character had ever seemed to savor anything of the vulgar crowd, I would indeed somewhat fear lest by so long and so enduring a separation of places and times it had, if not perished, certainly grown cold. Now, since an admiration of a certain singular learning and a love of piety joined you to me, and perhaps some hope, or rather an opinion, of these things joined me to you, I do not think there is need to fear what we commonly see happen, that I have therefore ceased to be in mind because I am absent from the eyes. But as to the fact that for several years now no letters have been returned from Colet, I have persuaded myself that either your occupations, or that you did not know for certain in what place I was living, in short anything rather has been the cause than oblivion of your little friend.

Sed ut de silentio nec debeo nec velim expostulare tecum, ita maiorem in modum te oro obsecroque ut posthac tantillum otii suffureris studiis negotiisque tuis, quo me nonnunquam literis tuis compelles. Miror nihil dum tuarum commentationum in Paulum atque in Evangelia prodiisse in lucem. Equidem non ignoro tuam modestiam; verum ista quoque tibi aliquando vincenda et publicae utilitatis respectu excutienda.

But as I neither ought nor wish to expostulate with you about the silence, so
I beg and beseech you the more that hereafter you may surreptitiously steal just a tiny bit of leisure
from your studies and affairs, whereby you will sometimes press me with your letters. I marvel
that as yet nothing of your commentations on Paul and on the Gospels has come forth
into the light. Indeed I do not ignore your modesty; but these things too must sometime be overcome by you
and, with respect to public utility, shaken off.

De Doctoris titulo ac Decanatus honore neque non aliis quibusdam ornamentis quae tuis virtutibus ultro delata esse audio, non tam tibi gratulor, quem certo scio nihil inde sibi praeter laborem vindicaturum, quam iis quibus tu ista gesturus es, quam ipsis honoribus, qui tum demum hoc nomine digni videntur, cum inciderint in promerentem neque tamen ambientem.

Concerning the Doctor’s title and the honor of the Deanery, and not least certain other ornaments which I hear have been conferred of their own accord upon your virtues, I congratulate not so much you—whom I am sure will claim for yourself nothing from this except labor—as those among whom you will be going to bear these distinctions, and even the honors themselves, which then at last seem worthy of this name when they have fallen upon one deserving, yet not canvassing.

Dici non queat, optime Colete, quam velis equisque properem ad sacras literas, quam omnia mihi fastidio sint quae illinc aut avocant aut etiam remorantur. Sed fortunae iniquitas, quae me perpetuo eodem aspicit vultu, fuit in causa quo minus me quiverim ab his tricis expedire. Hoc itaque animo me in Galliam recepi, ut eas si nequeam absolvere, certe quocunque modo abiiciam.

It cannot be said, most excellent Colet, how with sails and steeds I hasten to sacred letters, how all things are distasteful to me which either call me away from that or even delay me. But the iniquity of Fortune, who looks upon me continually with the same countenance, has been the cause why I have been less able to disentangle myself from these trifles. With this mind therefore I withdrew into Gaul, that, if I cannot absolve them, at least in whatever way I may cast them aside.

Deinde liber ac toto pectore divinas literas aggrediar, in his reliquam omnem aetatem insumpturus. Quanquam ante triennium ausus sum nescio quid in epistolam Pauli ad Romanos, absolvique uno quasi impetu quatuor volumina; progressurus, ni me quaedam avocassent: quorum illud praecipuum, quod passim Graeca desiderarem. Itaque iam triennium ferme literae Graecae me totum possident, neque mihi videor operam omnino lusisse.

Then, free and with my whole breast, I will address the divine letters, intending to expend all the remaining span of my life in these. Although three years ago I dared somewhat upon the Epistle of Paul to the Romans, and I finished, as it were in one single impetus, four volumes; I would have gone further, had not certain things called me away: the chief of which was this, that I everywhere missed the Greek. And so now for almost three years the Greek letters have possessed me wholly, nor do I seem to myself to have played my labor altogether in vain.

Coeperam et Hebraicas attingere, verum peregrinitate sermonis deterritus, simul quod nec aetas nec ingenium hominis pluribus rebus pariter sufficit, destiti. Origenis operum bonam partem evolvi; quo praeceptore mihi videor non nullum fecisse operae pretium. Aperit enim quasi fontes quosdam et rationes indicat artis theologicae.

I had begun also to touch upon the Hebraic, but, deterred by the foreignness of the speech, and at the same time because neither age nor the genius of a man suffices equally for many things, I desisted. I have unrolled a good part of Origen’s works; under which preceptor I seem to myself to have made some reward of toil. For he opens, as it were, certain fountains and indicates the rationes of the theological art.

Mitto ad te munusculum literarium, Lucubratiunculas aliquot meas; in quibus est et concertatio illa De reformidatione Christi, qua quondam in Anglia sumus conflictati; quanquam adeo mutata ut vix agnoscas. Praeterea, quae tu responderas quaeque ipse rettuleram, non quibant inveniri. Enchiridion non ad ostentationem ingenii aut eloquentiae conscripsi, verum ad hoc solum, ut mederer errori vulgo religionem constituentium in caerimoniis et observationibus rerum corporalium, ea quae ad pietatem pertinent, mire neglegentium.

I send to you a little literary gift, a few of my little lucubrations; in which is also that contestation On the Fear of Christ, with which we once contended in England; although so altered that you scarcely recognize it. Besides, what you had replied and what I myself had put forward could not be found. I composed the Enchiridion not for an ostentation of genius or of eloquence, but for this alone: that I might remedy the error of those who commonly constitute religion in ceremonies and in observations of corporeal things, wondrously neglecting the things that pertain to piety.

Conatus autem sum velut artificium quoddam pietatis tradere, more eorum qui de disciplinis certas rationes conscripsere; reliqua omnia paene alieno scripsi stomacho: quod laboris datum est animo Batti mei et affectibus Annae Principis Verianae. A Panegyrico sic abhorrebam, ut non meminerim quicquam fecisse me magis reluctante animo. Videbam enim genus hoc citra adulationem tractari non posse.

But I strove to hand down, as it were a certain art of piety, in the manner of those who have composed certain rationales about disciplines; the rest almost all I wrote with an alien temper: what portion of the labor was given to the spirit of my Battus and to the affections of Anna, the Verian Princess.
From a Panegyric I so recoiled, that I do not remember to have done anything with a more reluctant mind.
For I saw that this kind could not be handled without adulation.

Ego tamen novo sum usus artificio, ut et in adulando sim liberrimus et in libertate adulantissimus.

I, however, have employed a new artifice, so that both in adulating I may be most free,
and in liberty most adulating.

Si quid tuarum lucubrationum voles excudi formulis, exemplar tantum mittito; reliquum a me curabitur, ut emendatissime excudatur. Et scripsi nuper, et meministi opinor, de centum Adagiorum libris nostro sumptu in Angliam transmissis, idque ante triennium. Scripserat mihi Grocinus se summa fide summaque diligentia curaturum ut ex animi mei sententia distraherentur.

If you wish any of your lucubrations to be printed by the formes, send only the exemplar;
the rest will be cared for by me, that it may be printed most emended. And I wrote
recently, and you remember I suppose, about a hundred copies of the Adages, at our expense,
having been transmitted to England, and that three years ago. Grocyn had written to me that he would, with the highest
good faith and the highest diligence, see to it that they be disposed of to my satisfaction.

Neque dubito quin promissa praestiterit, ut est vir omnium quos alit Britannia integerrimus optimusque. Dignaberis igitur et ipse hac in re operam tuam mihi commodare, admonendo atque exstimulando eos per quos putabis negotium oportere confici. Neque enim dubitandum quin tanto spatio divenditi sint libri, et necesse est pecuniam ad aliquos pervenisse; quae mihi in praesenti sic usui futura est ut nunquam aeque.

Nor do I doubt that he has made good on his promises, as he is a man—of all whom Britain nourishes—most upright and best. You will therefore deign yourself also to lend me your effort in this matter, by admonishing and stimulating those through whom you think the business ought to be brought to completion. For we must not doubt that in so long a span the books have been sold off, and it is necessary that the money has come to some persons; which will be of use to me at present as never before.

Quavis enim ratione mihi est elaborandum ut menses aliquot totus mihi vivam, quo me aliquando ab iis extricem quae in literis profanis institui; id quod hac hieme sperabam futurum, nisi me tam multae spes elusissent. Neque admodum magna pecunia redimi poterit haec libertas, nimirum paucorum mensium.

For by whatever means
I must labor that for several months I may live entirely for myself, in order that I may at some point extricate myself from those things which I undertook in secular letters; which I was hoping would come about this winter, had not so many hopes made sport of me. Nor will this liberty—namely, of a few months—be able to be redeemed by a very great sum of money.

Quare te obsecro ut me ad sacra studia vehementer anhelantem, quoad potes, adiuves, atque ab iis literis, quae mihi iam dulces esse desierunt, asseras. Non mihi rogandus est Comes meus, Guilielmus Montioius; tamen neque ab re neque absurde facturus videatur, si sua benignitate nonnihil adiuverit me, vel quod sic semper favit studiis meis, vel quod argumentum est ipso auctore susceptum ipsiusque inscriptum nomini, nempe Adagiorum. Poenitet enim prioris editionis, vel quod typographorum culpa sic est mendosa, ut studio depravata videatur; vel quod instigantibus quibusdam praecipitavi opus, quod mihi nunc demum ieiunum atque inops videri coepit, posteaquam Graecos evolvi auctores.

Wherefore I beseech you to help me, as far as you can, who pant vehemently toward sacred studies, and to rescue me from those letters which have now ceased to be sweet to me. My Count, William Mountjoy, is not to be begged by me; yet he would not seem either out of place or absurd in doing so, if by his kindness he should help me somewhat, either because he has always thus favored my studies, or because the project has been undertaken by the author himself and inscribed to his name, namely of the Adages. For I am sorry for the former edition, either because by the printers’ fault it is so full of errors that it seems corrupted even in its diligence; or because, at the instigation of certain people, I precipitated the work, which now at last has begun to seem to me jejune and needy, after I have gone through the Greek authors.

Decretum est igitur altera editione et meam et chalcographorum culpam sarcire, simulque studiosis utilissimo argumento consulere. Quanquam autem interim rem tracto fortassis humiliorem, tamen dum in Graecorum hortis versor, multa obiter decerpo, in posterum usui futura etiam sacris in literis. Nam hoc unum expertus video, nullis in literis nos esse aliquid sine Graecitate.

Therefore it has been decreed, in a second edition, to repair both my fault and that of the chalcographers (printers), and at the same time to consult for the studious with a most useful argument. Although meanwhile I handle perhaps a humbler matter, yet while I am conversant in the gardens of the Greeks, I pluck many things by the way, to be for use hereafter even in sacred letters. For this one thing I see by experience: that in no letters are we anything without Greek.

Aliud enim est coniicere, aliud iudicare, aliud tuis, aliud alienis oculis credere. En quo crevit epistola: verum sic loquacem amor, non vitium, facit. Vale, doctissime atque optime Colete.

For one thing is to conjecture, another to judge,
one thing to believe your own eyes, another to believe others’ eyes. See how the letter has grown: yet thus
love, not fault, makes me loquacious. Farewell, most learned and best Colet.

Sixtino nostro quid acciderit cupio cognoscere; tum quid rerum agat dominus Prior Richardus Charnocus, animus tuus. Quo certius ad me perferantur ea quae scripturus missurusve es, iubebis reddi magistro Christophoro Fischero tui amantissimo, omniumque literatorum fautori summo, in cuius familia diversor.

I desire to learn what has happened to our Sixtinus; then what the lord Prior Richard Charnock, your spirit, is about. In order that those things which you will be going to write or send may be more surely conveyed to me, you will order them to be delivered to Master Christopher Fischer, your most loving, and the greatest fautor of all men of letters, in whose household I lodge.

Lutetiae. Anno M.D.IIII.

At Paris. In the year 1504.

XI. A Visit to Lambeth

11. A Visit to Lambeth

Annis aliquot ante quam Italiam adii, exercendae Graecitatis causa, quando non erat praeceptorum copia, verteram Hecubam Euripidis, tum agens Lovanii. Ad id audendum provocarat F. Philelphus, qui primam eius fabulae scenam vertit in oratione quadam funebri, parum ut tum mihi visum est feliciter. Porro cum stimulos adderet tum hospes meus Ioannes Paludanus, eius Academiae rhetor, vir si quis alius exacto iudicio, perrexi quo coeperam.

Several years before I went to Italy, for the sake of exercising my Greek, since there was not a supply of preceptors, I had translated Euripides’ Hecuba, then residing at Louvain. To dare this I had been provoked by F. Philelphus, who turned the first scene of that play into a certain funeral oration, not, as it then seemed to me, very happily. Moreover, as my host John Paludanus, the rhetor of that Academy, a man—if ever there was one—of exact judgment, was then adding spurs, I proceeded where I had begun.

Deinde ubi literis ac montibus, quod aiunt, aureis amicorum pellectus redieram in Angliam, addidi praefationem et carmen iambicum plus quam extemporarium, cum forte vacaret membrana, atque auctoribus eruditis amicis sed praecipue Guilhelmo Grocino, qui tum inter multos Britanniae doctos primam laudem tenebat, obtuli libellum dicatum reverendissimo praesuli Guilhelmo archiepiscopo Cantuariensi, totius Angliae primati et eius regni Cancellario, hoc est iudici summo. Hoc erat tum notitiae nostrae felix auspicium. Is cum me paucis salutasset ante prandium, hominem minime multiloquum aut ambitiosum, rursus a prandio paucis confabulatus, ut est et ipse moribus minime molestis, dimisit cum honorario munere, quod suo more solus soli dedit, ne vel pudore vel invidia gravaret accipientem: id actum est Lambethae.

Then, when I had returned to England, enticed by the letters and, as they say, the golden mountains of friends, I added a preface and an iambic poem more than extemporaneous, since by chance the parchment had room; and, with learned friends as encouragers, but especially William Grocyn, who then among the many learned men of Britain held the first praise, I offered the little book, dedicated to the most reverend prelate William, archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England and Chancellor of that realm, that is, the highest judge. This was then a happy auspice of our acquaintance. He, after he had greeted me with a few words before dinner—a man in no way much-talking or ambitious—again after dinner, having conversed a little, as he himself is of manners by no means troublesome, dismissed me with an honorarium gift, which in his own custom he gave alone to one alone, lest he burden the recipient with either shame or envy: this was done at Lambeth.

Dum ab hoc redimus cymba vecti, quemadmodum illic mos est, inter navigandum rogat me Grocinus quantum accepissem muneris; dico summam immensam, ludens. Cum ille rideret, quaero causam risus, et an non crederet Praesulis animum esse talem, qui tantum dare vellet; aut fortunam esse talem ut tantam benignitatem ferre non posset; aut opus non esse dignum aliquo magnifico munere. Tandem edito muneris modo, cum ludens rogarem cur tantillum dedisset, urgenti respondit, nihil horum esse, sed obstitisse suspicionem, ne forte idem operis alibi dedicassem alteri.

While we were returning from this man, borne in a skiff, as is the custom there,
during the sailing Grocyn asks me how much of a gift I had received; I say an immense sum, joking.
As he laughed, I ask the cause of the laughter, and whether he did not believe the Prelate’s spirit to be such as to be willing to give so much; or his fortune to be such that it could not bear so great a benignity; or the work not to be worthy of some magnificent gift.
At length, the manner of the gift having been disclosed, when, joking, I asked why he had given so tiny a thing, to my pressing he replied that it was none of these, but that a suspicion had stood in the way, lest perhaps I had dedicated the same work elsewhere to another.

Eam vocem admiratus, cum rogarem unde nam ea suspicio venisset homini in mentem, ridens 'Quia sic' inquit 'soletis vos'; significans id solere fieri a nostrae farinae hominibus. Hic aculeus cum inhaereret animo meo rudi talium dicteriorum, simulatque me Lutetiam receperam, inde petiturus Italiam, librum Badio tradidi formulis excudendum, adiecta Iphigenia Aulidensi, quam fusius ac liberius verteram agens in Anglia; et cum unam duntaxat obtulissem Praesuli, utramque dicavi eidem. Sic ultus sum Grocini dictum, cum interim non haberem in animo revisere Britanniam, nec de repetendo Archiepiscopo cogitarem: tanta tum erat in tam tenui fortuna superbia.

Admiring that utterance, when I asked whence, pray, that suspicion had come into the man’s mind, laughing he said, “Because thus you are wont, you people,” signifying that this is wont to be done by men of our flour (our batch). As this sting stuck in my mind, unpolished in such witticisms, as soon as I had withdrawn to Lutetia (Paris), from there about to seek Italy, I handed the book to Badius to be struck off by the forms (types), with the Iphigenia at Aulis added, which I had translated more diffusely and more freely while staying in England; and although I had offered only one to the Prelate, I dedicated both to the same. Thus I avenged Grocyn’s saying, while in the meantime I had no mind to revisit Britain, nor was I thinking of renewing application to the Archbishop: so great at that time was pride in so slender a fortune.

XII. A Letter to Aldus

12. A Letter to Aldus

(Aldo Manutio Romano Erasmus Roterodamus S.P.D.)

(To Aldus Manutius the Roman, Erasmus of Rotterdam sends very many greetings.)

Illud apud me saepenumero optavi, doctissime Manuti, ut quantum lucis attulisses utrique literaturae, non solum arte tua formulisque longe nitidissimis, verum etiam ingenio doctrinaque neutiquam triviali, tantundem emolumenti illa tibi vicissim rettulisset. Nam quantum ad famam attinet, dubium non est quin in omnem usque posteritatem Aldus Manutius volitaturus sit per omnium ora, quicunque literarum sacris sunt initiati. Erit autem memoria tua, quemadmodum nunc est fama, non illustris modo sed favorabilis quoque et amanda; propterea quod (ut audio) restituendis propagandisque bonis auctoribus das operam, summa quidem cura, at non pari lucro, planeque Herculis exemplo laboribus exerceris, pulcherrimis quidem illis et immortalem gloriam allaturis aliquando, verum aliis interim frugiferis magis quam tibi.

I have very often wished, most learned Manutius, that, as much light as you have brought to both literatures, not only by your art and by forms most highly polished, but also by an intelligence and doctrine by no means trivial, so much profit that in turn might have brought back to you. For as far as fame is concerned, there is no doubt that Aldus Manutius will be flying on the lips of all, as many as have been initiated into the sacred rites of letters, even into all posterity. And your memory, just as your fame now is, will be not only illustrious but also favorable and lovable; because (as I hear) you devote effort to restoring and propagating good authors, with the greatest care indeed, but not with equal gain, and you are plainly exercised in labors after the example of Hercules, most beautiful indeed, and destined at some time to bring immortal glory, but meanwhile more fruitful for others than for yourself.

Audio Platonem Graecanicis abs te formulis excudi, quem docti plerique iam vehementer exspectant. Quos auctores medicinae impresseris cupio cognoscere. Atque utinam Paulum Aeginetam nobis dones.

I hear that Plato is being struck off by you in Greek types, whom most of the learned now vehemently expect.
I desire to learn which authors of medicine you have printed.
And would that you would grant us Paul the Aeginetan.

Demiror quid obstiterit quo minus Novum Testamentum iampridem evulgaris, opus (ni fallit coniectura) etiam vulgo placiturum, maxime nostro, id est Theologorum, ordini.

I marvel what has stood in the way that you have not long since evulgated the New Testament, a work (if conjecture does not deceive) that will even be pleasing to the vulgar, especially to our order, that is, to the Theologians.

Mitto ad te duas Tragoedias a me versas magna quidem audacia, ceterum satisne feliciter ipse iudicabis. Tomas Linacer, Gulielmus Grocinus, Gulielmus Latimerus, Cutbertus Tunstallus, tui quoque amici, non tantum mei, magnopere probarunt; quos ipse nosti doctiores esse quam ut iudicio fallantur, sinceriores quam ut amico velint adulari, nisi si quid amore nostri caecutiunt; neque damnant conatum meum Itali quibus adhuc ostendi. Badius impressit sibi sat feliciter, ut scribit; nam ex animi sententia divendidit exemplaria iam omnia.

I send to you two Tragedies translated by me, with great audacity indeed; whether sufficiently successfully you yourself will judge. Thomas Linacre, William Grocyn, William Latimer, Cuthbert Tunstall, your friends as well as mine, have highly approved them; whom you yourself know to be too learned to be deceived in judgment, too sincere to wish to flatter a friend—unless in some respect they are blinded by love for me; nor do the Italians to whom I have shown it thus far condemn my attempt. Badius has printed it for himself quite successfully, as he writes; for to his heart’s content he has already sold out all the copies.

Verum non satis consultum est famae meae, usque adeo mendis scatent omnia; atque offert quidem ille operam suam ut superiorem editionem posteriore resarciat. Sed vereor ne iuxta Sophocleum adagium malum malo sarciat. Existimarim lucubrationes meas immortalitate donatas, si tuis excusae formulis in lucem exierint, maxime minutioribus illis omnium nitidissimis.

But my reputation has not been sufficiently consulted; so far do all things teem with errors; and indeed he offers his services to patch the earlier edition with a later one.
But I fear lest, in accordance with the Sophoclean adage, he may patch evil with evil.
I should reckon my lucubrations endowed with immortality, if, struck off with your types, they should come forth into the light—above all those more minute pieces, the most polished of all.

Ita fiet ut volumen sit perpusillum, et exiguo sumptu res conficiatur. Quod si tibi videbitur commodum negotium suscipere, ego exemplar emendatum quod mitto per hunc iuvenem gratis suppeditabo, nisi paucula volumina mittere volueris amicis donanda.

Thus it will come about that the volume will be very tiny, and with scant expense the matter will be brought to completion. But if it seems to you convenient to undertake the business, I will supply gratis the emended copy which I send by this young man, unless you should wish to send a few volumes to be given as gifts to friends.

Neque ego vererer rem meo sumptu meoque periculo moliri, nisi mihi esset intra paucos menses Italia relinquenda. Quare pervelim rem quamprimum absolvi. Est autem vix decem dierum negotium.

Nor would I hesitate to undertake the matter at my own expense and my own peril, unless it were necessary for me to leave Italy within a few months.
Wherefore I would very much wish the matter to be completed as soon as possible.
Moreover, it is scarcely a business of ten days.

Quod si modis omnibus postulas ut centum aut ducenta volumina ad me recipiam, tametsi non solet mihi admodum propitius esse Mercurius et incommodissimum erit sarcinam transportari, tamen ne id quidem gravabor, modo tu aequum praescribas pretium. Vale, doctissime Alde, et Erasmum in eorum numero ponito qui tibi ex animo bene cupiunt.

But if by all means you demand that I take delivery of one hundred or two hundred volumes, although Mercury is not wont to be very propitious to me and it will be most incommodious for the load to be transported, nevertheless I shall not be burdened by that either, provided only that you prescribe a fair price. Farewell, most learned Aldus, and set Erasmus in the number of those who from the heart wish you well.

Si quid est in officina tua non usitatorum auctorum, gratum facies si indicabis; nam docti illi Britanni hoc mihi negotii dederunt uti pervestigarem. Si de imprimendis Tragoediis res animo tuo non sedet omnino, reddes exemplar huic ipsi qui attulit ad me referendum. Bononiae.

If there is anything in your workshop of uncommon authors, you will do a favor if you indicate it; for those learned Britons have given me this business, that I should investigate. If the matter of printing the Tragedies does not altogether sit well with your mind, you will return the exemplar to this very man who brought it, to be carried back to me. At Bologna.

V. Cal. Novembr.

October 28.

Aldo Manutio Romano, viro undecunque doctissimo. Venetiis.

To Aldus Manutius, Roman, a man most learned in every respect. In Venice.

XIII. An Interview with Grimani

13. An Interview with Grimani

(Erasmus Roterodamus Augustino Eugubino, Cancellario Regularium Sancti Augustini, Ordinis Sancti Salvatoris S.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam to Augustinus of Gubbio, Chancellor of the Canons Regular of Saint Augustine, of the Order of the Holy Savior, greetings.)

Et animum istum et fortunam gratulor, Augustine doctissime, non tibi modo sed et sacrarum literarum studiosis. Quos oportet omnes, si grati esse volunt, bene precari manibus incomparabilis viri Dominici Grymani, qui pulcherrimum hoc propositum et animo concepit et constanter perfecit, ut bibliothecam optimis quibusque libris diversarum linguarum instructam non mediocribus impendiis pararit, suique monumentum reliquerit: qui non video quo speciosiore titulo memoriam suae gentis posteritati valuerit commendare. Cum agerem Romae, semel atque iterum ab illo ad colloquium invitatus, ut tum abhorrebam a cultu magnatum, tandem illius palatium adii, pudore magis quam ex animo.

And I congratulate both that spirit and that fortune, Augustine most learned, not for you alone but also for the devotees of sacred letters. Whom it behooves all, if they wish to be grateful, to pray well for the Manes of the incomparable man, Domenico Grimani, who both conceived this most beautiful purpose in mind and steadfastly brought it to completion: namely, that he prepared a library equipped with the best books of diverse languages at no mean expense, and left a monument of himself; who, I do not see by what more splendid title he could have been able to commend the memory of his family to posterity. When I was staying at Rome, once and again invited by him to a colloquy, as at that time I shrank from the courtly attendance of magnates, at length I approached his palace, more from shame than from inclination.

Nec in area nec in vestibulo ulla hominis musca apparebat. Erat tum tempus pomeridianum. Equum tradidi famulo et ascendi solus.

Neither in the courtyard nor in the vestibule did any human being appear. It was then the afternoon time. I handed the horse over to the servant and ascended alone.

Venio ad primum atrium, neminem video: ad secundum ac tertium, tantundem: nullum ostium occlusum repperi. Mecum demirans solitudinem, ad extremum venio: illic unum tantum reperio, Graeculum ut opinor medicum, tonso capite, custodem ostii patentis. Rogo quid ageret Cardinalis.

I came to the first atrium, I saw no one; to the second and the third, the same: I found no door closed. Wondering to myself at the solitude, I came to the far end: there I found only one, a little Greek, as I suppose a physician, with shaven head, the keeper of the door standing open. I asked what the Cardinal was doing.

Ait intus cum aliquot generosis confabulari. Cum nihil adderem, rogat quid vellem. 'Salutare,' inquam, 'si commodum esset.

He says that inside he is confabulating with several nobles.
Since I added nothing, he asks what I wished. 'To salute,'
I say, 'if it were convenient.'

Nunc quia non vacat, alias revisam.' Dum abiturus paulisper per fenestram loci situm prospicio, redit ad me Graecus, percontans num quid velim renuntiari Cardinali. 'Nihil' inquam 'opus interpellare illius colloquium, sed brevi rediturus sum.' Tandem sciscitanti nomen edo. Eo audito, me non sentiente se proripuit intro, moxque egressus iubet ne quo abeam, ac protinus accersor.

'Now, since he is not at leisure, I will revisit another time.' While
about to depart, as for a little while I look out through the window at the situation of the place, the Greek returns to me,
inquiring whether I wish anything to be reported to the Cardinal. 'Nothing,' I say, 'there is no need
to interrupt his colloquy, but I shall return shortly.' At length, to the one asking,
I give my name. On this being heard, without my perceiving it he rushed inside, and soon, coming out,
he orders that I go nowhere, and forthwith I am summoned.

Venientem excipit non ut cardinalis -- et talis cardinalis -- extremae sortis homunculum, sed ut collegam. Posita est sella, collocuti sumus plus quam duas horas, nec interim licuit manum admovere pileo. Prodigiosam in tanto rerum fastigio comitatem!

He receives me coming not as
a cardinal -- and such a cardinal -- a homunculus of the lowest lot, but as
a colleague. A chair was set, we conversed for more than two hours, nor
meanwhile was it permitted to move my hand to my cap. Prodigious courtesy at so great a pinnacle of affairs!

Inter plurima quae de studiis eruditissime disseruit, satis indicans iam tum sibi fuisse in animo quod nunc de bibliotheca factum accipio, incipit hortari me ne Romam ingeniorum altricem relinquerem. Invitat ad domus suae contubernium et fortunarum omnium communionem, illud addens, coelum Romanum ut humidum et calidum meo corpusculo convenire, praecipueque eam urbis partem in qua palatium habebat, olim a pontifice quodam exstructum, qui locum eum ut omnium saluberrimum delegisset.

Among the many things which he most eruditely discoursed concerning studies, sufficiently indicating even then that he had had in mind what I now understand has been done about the library, he begins to exhort me not to leave Rome, the nurse of talents. He invites me to the companionship under his roof and to a communion of all fortunes, adding this, that the Roman climate, as humid and warm, suited my small frame, and especially that part of the city in which he had his palace, formerly erected by a certain pontiff, who had chosen that place as the healthiest of all.

Post multos sermones ultro citroque habitos, accersit nepotem suum iam tum archiepiscopum, adolescentem divina quadam indole praeditum. Conantem assurgere vetuit, 'Decet' inquiens 'discipulum coram praeceptore stare.' Tandem ostendit bibliothecam libris multarum linguarum refertam. Quem virum si mihi contigisset temporius nosse, nunquam Urbem eram relicturus; quam longe supra meritum meum repperi faventem.

After many conversations held back and forth, he summons his nephew, already at that time an archbishop, a youth endowed with a certain divine disposition. As he was attempting
to rise, he forbade him, saying, 'It befits the disciple to stand before the preceptor.'
At last he shows the library packed with books of many languages. If it had befallen me
to know that man earlier, I would never have been about to leave the City; how far
beyond my merit I found him favorable.

Sed iam abire statueram, eoque res processerat ut mihi vix integrum esset ibi manere. Cum dixissem me accitum ab Angliae rege, desiit urgere: tamen hoc iterum atque iterum oravit, ne suspicarer ea quae promitteret non ex animo proficisci, neve ipsum ex vulgarium aulicorum moribus aestimarem. Aegre me dimisit a colloquio, sed cum abire gestientem diutius remorari nollet, illud extremis verbis a me stipulatus est, ut ipsum adhuc semel inviserem, priusquam Urbe excederem.

But by now I had determined to depart, and the matter had proceeded to such a point that it was scarcely in my power to remain there. When I said that I had been summoned by the king of England, he ceased to press; nevertheless he entreated this again and again, that I should not suspect that the things he promised did not proceed from the heart, nor assess him by the manners of vulgar courtiers. Reluctantly he dismissed me from the colloquy; but since he was unwilling to detain longer one eager to depart, he stipulated this of me in his parting words: that I should visit him himself once more, before I withdrew from the City.

Non redii infelix, ne hominis facundia victus mutarem sententiam. Nunquam mihi mens aeque fuit laeva. Sed quid agas cum urgent fata?

I did not return—ill-fated—lest, conquered by the man’s facundity (eloquence), I should change my decision. Never was my mind so sinister. But what can you do when the Fates are urgent?

XIV. A Conversation at Cambridge

14. A Conversation at Cambridge

Venit in mentem quiddam quod ridebis, scio. Cum inter magistros aliquot proponerem de hypodidascalo, quidam non infimae opinionis subridens, 'Quis' inquit 'sustineat in ea schola vitam agere inter pueros, qui possit ubivis quomodocunque vivere?' Respondi modestius, hoc munus mihi videri vel in primis honestum, bonis moribus ac literis instituere iuventutem, neque Christum eam aetatem contempsisse, et in nullam rectius collocare beneficium, et nusquam exspectari fructum uberiorem, utpote cum illa sit seges ac silva reipublicae. Addidi, si qui sint homines vere pii, eos in hac esse sententia ut putent sese nullo officio magis demereri Deum quam si pueros trahant ad Christum.

Something came into my mind which you will laugh at, I know. When among several masters I was proposing about the hypodidascalus (under-teacher), a certain man of no mean reputation, smiling, said, “Who would endure to pass his life in that school among boys, who could live anywhere whatsoever, anyhow?” I replied more modestly, that this duty seemed to me even among the first to be honorable, to institute the youth in good morals and letters; that Christ did not despise that age; and that no benefaction could be more rightly placed, and nowhere could a more abundant fruit be expected, inasmuch as that age is the crop and the forest of the commonwealth. I added that, if there are men truly pious, they are of this opinion: that they think they merit God by no service more than if they draw boys to Christ.

Atque is corrugato naso subsannans, 'Si quis' inquit 'velit omnino servire Christo, ingrediatur monasterium ac religionem.' Respondi Paulum in caritatis officiis ponere veram religionem; caritatem autem in hoc esse, ut proximis quam maxime prosimus. Reiecit hoc tanquam imperite dictum. 'Ecce,' inquit, 'nos reliquimus omnia; in hoc est perfectio.' 'Non reliquit' inquam 'omnia qui, cum possit plurimis prodesse labore suo, detractat officium quod humilius habeatur.' Atque ita, ne lis oreretur, hominem dimisi.

And he, with his nose wrinkled, sneering, said, ‘If anyone should wish altogether to serve Christ, let him enter a monastery and religion.’ I replied that Paul places true religion in the offices of charity; and that charity consists in this, that we be of the greatest profit to our neighbors. He rejected this as something said unskillfully. ‘Behold,’ he said, ‘we have left all things; in this is perfection.’ ‘He has not left all things,’ I said, ‘who, though he can benefit very many by his labor, shirks an office that is held the more humble.’ And so, lest a quarrel should arise, I dismissed the man.

Vale.

Farewell.

Cantabrigiae postridie Simonis et Iudae.

At Cambridge, on the day after Simon and Jude.

XV. An Encounter with Canossa

15. An Encounter with Canossa

Decrevisti, ut video, Canossae nomen immortalitati consecrare. Ante complures annos novi hominem in Anglia, sed ignotum notus. Rumor erat tum illuc venisse legatum Pontificium Cardinalem, sed cultu profano.

You have decreed, as I see, to consecrate the name of Canossa to immortality. Several years
ago I came to know a man in England, but a known unknown. There was a rumor then
that a Papal legate, a Cardinal, had come there, but in profane attire.

Invitarat me Andreas Ammonius ad prandium. Veni nihil suspicans insidiarum; amabam enim hominem familiariter. Apud eum repperi quendam veste oblonga, sed capillis in reticulum collectis, unico tantum famulo.

Andreas Ammonius had invited me to lunch. I came suspecting nothing of a plot; for I loved the man familiarly. At his place I found a certain fellow in a long garment, but with hair gathered into a hairnet, with only a single servant.

Multa fabulatus sum cum Andrea, nihil omnino suspicans de Canossa. Admirabar tamen hominis militarem ferociam, itaque Graece percontatus sum Andream quisnam adesset. Is respondit, 'Negotiator quidam egregius.' Atque ego contra, 'Talis quidem videtur,' et persuasus esse negotiatorem plane neglexi hominem.

I talked much with Andrew, suspecting nothing at all about Canossa. I nevertheless admired the man’s military ferocity, and so, in Greek, I inquired of Andrew who he was. He replied, ‘A certain excellent merchant.’ And I, in response, ‘Such indeed he seems,’ and, being persuaded that he was a merchant, I plainly neglected the man.

Accubitum est. Canossa praesedit, ego proximus. Toto convivio cum Andrea familiariter ex more fabulas miscui, non dissimulans negotiatoris contemptum.

We reclined at table. Canossa presided, I next to him. Throughout the whole banquet with Andrew I familiarly, according to custom, mingled stories, not dissembling my contempt for the "negotiator."

Tandem percontatus sum Andream num verus esset rumor venisse legatum qui iussu Leonis decimi dissidium inter Galliarum et Angliae reges componeret; annuebat. 'Summus' inquam 'Pontifex non eget meis consiliis; si tamen hic me adhibuisset, aliud suasissem.' 'Quid?' inquit Ammonius. 'Non expediebat' inquam 'fieri mentionem pacis.' 'Quamobrem?' 'Quoniam pax' inquam 'subito coiri non potest.

At length I asked Andrew whether the rumor was true that a legate had come who, by the order of Leo 10, would compose the dissension between the kings of the Gauls and of England; he nodded assent. “The Supreme Pontiff,” I said, “does not need my counsels; if, however, he had employed me in this matter, I would have advised otherwise.” “What?” said Ammonius. “It was not expedient,” I said, “that mention of peace be made.” “For what reason?” “Because peace,” I said, “cannot be concluded suddenly.”

Atque interea dum monarchae tractant de conditionibus, milites ad odorem pacis peiora moliuntur quam in bello. Per indutias autem subito cohibentur militum manus. Indutias autem praescriberem trium annorum, quo liceret commode de duraturi foederis legibus dispicere.' Approbavit Andreas et 'Hoc,' inquit, 'opinor, agit hic legatus.' His ita dissertis redii ad id quod Ammnonius non responderat liquido.

And meanwhile, while the monarchs treat about the conditions, the soldiers, at the odor of peace, undertake worse things than in war. But during a truce the hands of the soldiers are suddenly restrained. I would, moreover, prescribe a truce of three years, in order that it might be permitted conveniently to consider the laws of a league meant to endure.' Andrew approved and said, 'This, I suppose, is what this legate is aiming at.' With these matters thus discussed I returned to that which Ammnonius had not clearly answered.

'Estne' inquam 'cardinalis?' 'Unde' inquit 'tibi istuc in mentem venit?' 'Quoniam' inquam 'hoc narrant Itali.' 'Et illi' inquit 'unde norunt?' 'Hic' inquam 'te novi. Si post annos aliquot te videam in Brabantia, quaeras unde te agnoscerem?' Subriserunt inter sese, me ne tantulum quidem etiam suspicante. Mox urgebam num revera esset cardinalis.

'Is he,' I said, 'a cardinal?' 'Whence,' he said, 'did that come into your mind?' 'Because,' I said, 'the Italians report this.' 'And they,' he said, 'whence do they know it?' 'Here,' I said, 'I know you. If after a few years I should see you in Brabant, would you ask whence I recognized you?' They smiled among themselves, I not even suspecting the least little bit. Soon I was pressing whether he really was a cardinal.

Tergiversatus est Ammonius. Tandem 'Est' inquit 'animo cardinalitio.' Hic ego suaviter arridens 'Istuc aliquid est,' inquam 'gerere animum cardinalitium.'

Ammonius tergiversated. At length
'He is,' said he, 'of a cardinalitial mind.' Here I, suavely smiling, 'That is something,' said I, 'to bear a cardinalitial mind.'

Haec aliaque multa Canossa audivit tacitus. Tandem dixit nescio quid Italice. Mox admiscuit voces Latinas, sed sic ut posses negotiatorem ingeniosum agnoscere.

These and many other things Canossa heard in silence. At length he said I-know-not-what in Italian. Soon he admixed Latin words, but in such a way that you could recognize an ingenious negotiator.

Cum nihil responderem, ad me versus dixit: 'Demiror te in hac barbara natione velle vivere, nisi forte hic mavis esse solus quam Romae primus.' Hanc argutiam demiratus in negotiatore, respondi me vivere in ea regione quae plurimos haberet insigniter doctos, inter quos mihi satis esset ultimum tenere locum, cum Romae nullo in numero futurus essem. Haec aliaque dixi, nonnihil iratus negotiatori. Puto mihi tunc genium aliquem bonum adfuisse; alioqui in summum discrimen me pertraxerat Ammonius, qui non ignorabat quanta libertate soleam apud amicos effutire quicquid in buccam venerit.

Since I made no reply, turning to me he said: 'I marvel that you wish to live in this barbarian nation, unless perhaps here you prefer to be alone rather than first at Rome.' Admiring this witticism in the merchant, I replied that I live in that region which has very many men conspicuously learned, among whom it would be enough for me to hold the last place, whereas at Rome I should be of no account at all. These and other things I said, somewhat angered at the merchant. I think some good genius was then present with me; otherwise Ammonius had dragged me into the utmost peril, for he was not unaware with what liberty I am wont among friends to blurt out whatever comes into my mouth.

Surreximus. Andreas et ego diutius ambulavimus in horto qui aedes dirimit, ac post diutinam confabulationem officii causa produxit ad ostium terrestre (nam ea pars domus in qua pransi fueramus, spectat flumen Thamisin); malebam enim redire pedibus quam cymba. Post aliquot dies cum redissemus in colloquium, aperit Andreas fabulae scenam, ac mecum sedulo agit ut Canossam comiter in Italiam, plurima testificans quam ille de me magnifice tum loqueretur tum sentiret.

We rose. Andrew and I walked for a longer time in the garden which separates the buildings,
and after a prolonged confabulation, for duty’s sake he conducted me to the landward doorway
(for that part of the house in which we had lunched looks toward the river Thames); for I preferred to return on foot rather than by skiff. After some days when
we had come back into colloquy, Andrew opens the scene of the story, and assiduously deals with me that I should courteously accompany Canossa into Italy,
testifying to very many things, how he both spoke and felt magnificently about me.

Sed surdo canebat fabulam. At interim parum amice factum est ab Ammonio, qui non ignorabat linguae meae loquacitatem. Poteram aliquid vel in Pontificem vel in legatum effutire, quod mihi post fraudi fuisset.

Yet he was singing a story to a deaf man. But
meanwhile it was done not very kindly by Ammonius, who was not ignorant of the loquacity of my tongue.
I could have babbled out something either against the Pontiff or against the legate,
which afterward would have been to my prejudice.

XVI. Erasmus' Apologia Pro Vita Sua

16. Erasmus' Apology For His Life

(Reverendo Patri Servatio Erasmus S.P.)

(To the Reverend Father Servatius, Erasmus sends many greetings.)

Humanissime pater, literae tuae per plurimorum iactatae manus tandem ad me quoque pervenerunt iam Angliam egressum; quae mihi sane voluptatem incredibilem attulerunt, quod veterem illum tuum in me animum adhuc spirant. Paucis autem respondeo, utpote ex itinere iam scribens, et ad ea potissimum quae tu scribis ad rem maxime pertinere. Tam varia est hominum sententia, et suus cuique avium cantus, ut omnibus satisfieri non possit.

Most humane father, your letter, tossed through the hands of very many, has at last reached me as well, though I had already left England; and it truly brought me incredible delight, in that it still breathes that former spirit of yours toward me. I answer, however, in few words, since I am now writing from the road, and chiefly to those points which you write as most to the purpose. So various is the judgment of men, and to each bird its own song, that it is not possible to satisfy everyone.

Ego certe hoc sum animo, ut quod sit factu optimum sequi velim; testis est mihi Deus. Nam si quid olim iuveniliter sensi, id partim aetas, partim rerum correxit usus. Nunquam mihi fuit consilium vel vitae genus vel cultum mutare, non quod probarem, sed ne cui scandalo essem.

I for my part am of this mind,
that I wish to follow what may be best to do; God is my witness. For
if I once felt anything youthfully, that partly age, partly the use (practice) of affairs has corrected. Never was it my plan to change either my manner of life or my outward cultivation/observance, not that
I approved it, but lest I should be a scandal to anyone.

Scis enim me ad vitae genus tutorum pertinacia et aliorum improbis hortatibus adactum esse magis quam inductum; tum Cornelii Woerdeni conviciis et pudore quodam puerili fuisse retentum, cum intellegerem mihi hoc vitae genus haudquaquam aptum esse; nam non omnibus congruunt omnia. Ieiuniorum semper impatiens fui, idque peculiari quadam corporis ratione. Semel excitatus e somno nunquam potui redormiscere nisi post horas aliquot.

You know, in fact, that I was driven to that manner of life by the pertinacity of my guardians and by the wicked exhortations of others rather than induced; then I was held back by the revilings of Cornelius Woerden and by a certain boyish shame, while I understood that this manner of life was by no means apt for me; for not all things are congruent to all. I have always been impatient of fastings, and that by a certain peculiar constitution of body. Once roused from sleep I have never been able to fall asleep again except after several hours.

Ad literas tantum rapiebatur animus, quarum istic nullus usus, adeo ut non dubitem quin si in liberum aliquod vitae genus incidissem, non solum inter felices verum etiam inter bonos potuissem numerari.

My mind was carried off to letters alone, of which there is no use there, to such a degree that I do not doubt that, if I had fallen into some freer kind of life, I could have been numbered not only among the happy but even among the good.

Itaque cum intellegerem me nequaquam esse idoneum isti generi vitae, et coactum non sponte suscepisse, tamen quia receptum est publica nostri seculi opinione piaculum esse a semel suscepto vitae genere desciscere, decreveram et hanc infelicitatis meae partem fortiter perpeti. Scis enim me multis in rebus infortunatum esse. At hoc unum ceteris omnibus gravius semper duxi, quod in huiusmodi vitae genus detrusus essem, a quo cum animo tum corpore essem alienissimus: animo, quod a caerimoniis abhorrerem et libertatis amans essem; corpore, quod etiamsi maxime placuisset vitae institutum, corporis natura non ferebat eiusmodi labores.

Therefore, since I understood that I was by no means suitable to that kind of life, and had undertaken it under compulsion, not of my own accord, nevertheless, because by the public opinion of our age it is received that it is a sacrilege to defect from a way of life once undertaken, I had resolved to endure even this part of my unhappiness bravely. For you know that I am unfortunate in many things. But this one I have always deemed more grievous than all the others: that I had been thrust down into a kind of life of this sort, to which I was most alien both in mind and in body— in mind, because I abhorred ceremonies and was a lover of liberty; in body, because even if the institute of life had pleased me most greatly, the nature of my body did not bear labors of this sort.

At obiiciet mihi aliquis annum probationis (ut vocant) et aetatem maturam. Ridiculum. Quasi quis postulet ut puer anno decimo septimo, maxime in literis educatus, norit se ipsum, quod magnum est etiam in sene, aut anno uno id discere potuerit quod multi cani nondum intellegunt.

But someone will object to me the year of probation (as they call it) and a mature age. Ridiculous. As if one should demand that a boy in his seventeenth year, especially brought up in letters, should know himself—which is a great thing even in an old man—or could in one year learn that which many gray-haired men do not yet understand.

Quanquam ipse nunquam probavi, et gustatum iam multo minus, sed iis quas dixi rationibus sum irretitus; tametsi fateor eum qui vere sit bonus, in quovis vitae genere bene victurum. Neque diffiteor me ad magna vitia fuisse propensum, non tamen usque adeo corrupta natura quin si commodus accessisset gubernator et vere Christianus, potuissem ad bonam duci frugem.

Although I myself never approved it, and much less tasted it, yet by the reasons which I have said I am ensnared; nevertheless I confess that he who is truly good will live well in any kind of life. Nor do I deny that I was inclined to great vices, yet not with a nature so corrupted but that, if a suitable helmsman and truly Christian had approached, I could have been led to good fruit.

Hoc igitur interim spectavi, in quo vitae genere minime malus essem, atque id sane me assecutum puto. Vixi interim inter sobrios, vixi in studiis literarum, quae me a multis vitiis avocaverunt. Licuit consuetudinem habere cum viris vere Christum sapientibus, quorum colloquio factus sum melior.

Therefore in the meantime I aimed at this—namely, in what kind of life I might be least bad—and I truly think I have attained it. I have lived meanwhile among the sober; I have lived in the studies of letters, which called me away from many vices. It was permitted to have acquaintance (consuetude) with men truly wise in Christ, by whose colloquy I was made better.

Nihil enim iam iacto de libris meis, quos fortasse vos contemnitis. At multi fatentur se redditos eorum lectione non solum eruditiores verum etiam meliores. Pecuniae studium nunquam me attigit.

For I now vaunt nothing about my books, which perhaps you despise.
But many confess themselves rendered by the reading of them not only more erudite but also better.
The pursuit of money has never touched me.

Famae gloria nec tantillum tangor. Voluptatibus, etsi quondam fui inclinatus, nunquam servivi. Crapulam et ebrietatem semper horrui fugique.

I am not touched even the least by the glory of fame.
To pleasures, although once I was inclined, I never served.
Crapulence and ebriety I have always shuddered at and fled.

Quoties autem cogitabam de repetendo vestro contubernio, succurrebat invidia multorum, contemptus omnium, colloquia quam frigida, quam inepta, quam non sapientia Christum, convivia quam laica; denique tota vitae ratio, cui si detraxeris caerimonias, non video quid relinquas expetendum. Postremo succurrebat corporis imbecillitas, quae iam aetate et morbis ac laboribus aucta est; quae facit ut nec vobis satisfacturus essem et me ipsum occiderem. Iam annis aliquot obnoxius sum calculo, gravi sane malo et capitali.

As often as I was thinking about returning to your common dwelling, there came to mind the envy of many, the contempt of all, conversations—how frigid, how inept, how not wisdom in Christ, banquets—how lay (secular); finally the whole rationale of life, from which, if you take away the ceremonies, I do not see what you leave to be desired. Lastly, the weakness of the body came to mind, which now has been increased by age and by diseases and labors; which makes it so that I should neither be likely to satisfy you, and would be killing myself. For several years now I have been subject to the stone (calculus), a truly grave and capital malady.

Iam annis aliquot nihil bibo nisi vinum, neque quodvis vinum, idque cogente morbo. Non fero quemvis cibum, nec coelum quidem quodlibet. Nam morbus hic facile recurrens maximam postulat vitae moderationem; et novi coelum Hollandicum, novi victus vestri rationem, ut de moribus nihil dicam.

For several years now I drink nothing except
wine, and not just any wine, and that with the illness compelling it. I do not bear just any food, nor
indeed any climate whatsoever. For this easily recurring illness demands the greatest moderation of life; and I know the Hollandic climate, I know the regimen of your diet,
to say nothing of the mores.

Itaque si redissem, nihil aliud fuissem assecutus nisi quod vobis molestiam attulissem et mihi mortem.

Therefore, if I had returned, I would have achieved nothing else except that I would have brought trouble to you and death to myself.

Sed tu forsitan bonam felicitatis partem existimes inter confratres emori. At fallit et imponit ista persuasio non solum tibi verum etiam propemodum universis. In loco, in cultu, in victu, in caerimoniolis quibusdam Christum et pietatem collocamus.

But you perhaps reckon a good share of felicity to be to die among your confreres. But that persuasion deceives and imposes, not only upon you but well-nigh upon all. In place, in attire, in diet, in certain little ceremonies we locate Christ and piety.

Actum putamus de illo qui vestem albam commutarit in nigram, aut qui cucullum pileo verterit, qui locum subinde mutet. Ausim illud dicere, magnam Christianae pietatis perniciem ex istis quas vocant religionibus exortam esse, tametsi pio fortassis studio primum inductae sunt. Deinde paulatim creverunt et in sex milia discriminum sese sparserunt.

We think it is done with the one who has changed the white garment into black,
or who has turned the cowl into a cap, who keeps changing his place. I would dare
to say this: that great harm to Christian piety has arisen from those which they call
“religions,” although perhaps by pious zeal they were at first introduced.
Then little by little they grew and scattered themselves into 6,000 divisions.

Accessit summorum pontificum auctoritas nimium ad multa facilis et indulgens. Quid enim laxis istis religionibus conspurcatius aut magis impium? Quanto magis est e Christi sententia totum orbem Christianum unam domum et velut unum habere monasterium, omnes concanonicos et confratres putare; baptismi sacramentum summam religionem ducere, neque spectare ubi vivas sed quam bene vivas.

The authority of the supreme pontiffs has been added, excessively easy and indulgent toward many matters.
For what is more besmirched or more impious than those lax “religions”?
How much more is it according to Christ’s judgment that the whole Christian orb should have one house and, as it were, one monastery, to regard all as fellow-canons and confreres;
to reckon the sacrament of baptism the sum of religion, and to look not at where you live but how well you live.

Vis me sedem stabilem figere, quod ipsa etiam suadet senectus. At laudatur Solonis, Pythagorae Platonisque peregrinatio. Vagabantur et Apostoli, praecipue Paulus.

You want me to fix a stable seat, which senectitude itself also urges. But the peregrination of Solon, Pythagoras, and Plato is lauded. The Apostles too wandered, especially Paul.

Divus Hieronymus etiam monachus nunc Romae est, nunc in Syria, nunc in Antiochia, nunc alibi atque alibi; et canus etiam sacras persequitur literas.

Saint Jerome, even a monk now is at Rome, now in Syria, now in Antioch, now elsewhere and elsewhere; and gray-haired, he likewise pursues the sacred letters.

At non sum cum hoc conferendus, fateor; sed tamen nunquam mutavi locum, nisi vel peste cogente, vel studii causa vel valetudinis, et ubicunque vixi (dicam enim de me ipso fortassis arrogantius, sed tamen vere), probatus sum a probatissimis et laudatus a laudatissimis. Nec ulla est regio, nec Hispania, nec Italia, nec Germania, nec Anglia, nec Scotia, quae me ad suum non invitet hospitium. Et si non probor ab omnibus (quod nec studeo), certe primis omnium placeo.

But I am not to be compared with this man, I confess; but nevertheless I have never changed place, unless either compelled by the plague, or for the sake of study or of health, and wherever I have lived (for I will speak of myself perhaps rather arrogantly, yet truly), I have been approved by the most approved and praised by the most praised. Nor is there any region, neither Spain, nor Italy, nor Germany, nor England, nor Scotland, which does not invite me to its own hospitality. And if I am not approved by all (which I do not strive for), assuredly I please the foremost of all.

Romae nullus erat Cardinalis qui me non tanquam fratrem acciperet, cum ipse nihil tale ambirem; praecipue vero Cardinalis Grimanus, et hic ipse qui nunc Pontifex Maximus est, ut ne dicam de episcopis, archidiaconis et viris eruditis. Atque hic honos non tribuebatur opibus, quas etiam nunc non habeo nec desidero; non ambitioni, a qua semper fui alienissimus; sed literis duntaxat, quas nostrates rident, Itali adorant. In Anglia nullus est episcopus qui non gaudeat a me salutari, qui non cupiat me convivam, qui nolit domesticum.

At Rome there was no Cardinal who would not receive me as a brother, although I myself sought nothing of the sort; especially indeed Cardinal
Grimanus, and this very man who now is Pontifex Maximus, not to speak of
bishops, archdeacons, and learned men. And this honor was not
attributed to wealth, which even now I do not have nor desire; not to ambition, from
which I have always been most alien; but to letters only, which our countrymen laugh at,
the Italians adore. In England there is no bishop who does not rejoice to be saluted by me,
who does not desire me as a table-companion, who is not willing to have me as a domestic.

Rex ipse paulo ante patris obitum, cum essem in Italia, scripsit ad me suapte manu literas amantissimas, nunc quoque saepe sic de me loquitur ut nemo honorificentius, nemo amantius; et quoties eum saluto, blandissime complectitur et oculis amicissimis obtuetur, ut intellegas eum non minus bene de me sentire quam loqui. Et saepe mandavit suo eleemosynario ut mihi de sacerdotio prospiceret. Regina conata est me sibi praeceptorem adsciscere.

The king himself, a little before his father's death, when I was in Italy, wrote to me with his own hand most affectionate letters; even now also he often speaks thus about me that no one more honorifically, no one more lovingly; and as often as I greet him, he embraces me most graciously and looks upon me with most friendly eyes, so that you may understand that he feels no less well of me than he speaks. And he has often instructed his almoner to look out for me concerning a priesthood. The queen tried to co-opt me to herself as preceptor.

Nemo est qui nesciat me si vel paucos menses velim in aula regis vivere, quantum libeat sacerdotiorum mihi accumulaturum; sed ego huic otio meo et studiorum laboribus omnia posthabeo. Cantuariensis Archiepiscopus, totius Angliae primas et regni huius Cancellarius, vir doctus et probus, me sic amplectitur ut, si pater esset aut frater, non posset amantius. Et ut intellegas hoc eum ex animo facere, dedit mihi sacerdotium centum ferme nobilium, quod postea volente me in pensionem centum coronatorum mutavit, ex mea resignatione; ad haec dedit dono supra quadringentos nobiles his pauculis annis, idque nihil unquam petenti.

There is no one who does not know that, if I were willing to live even a few months in the king’s court, as many sacerdotal benefices as I pleased would be heaped up for me; but I postpone everything to this leisure of mine and the labors of studies. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all England and Chancellor of this realm, a learned and upright man, embraces me in such wise that, if he were a father or a brother, he could not do so more lovingly. And that you may understand that he does this from the heart, he gave me a priesthood of almost 100 nobles, which afterward, with my consent, he changed into a pension of 100 crowns, upon my resignation; in addition to this he has given as a gift more than 400 nobles in these few years, and that to one never asking anything.

Dedit uno die nobiles centum et quinquaginta. Ab aliis episcopis supra centum nobiles accepi gratuita liberalitate oblatos. Dominus Montioius, huius regni baro, quondam meus discipulus, dat annue mihi pensionem centum coronatorum.

He gave in one day a hundred and fifty nobles. From other
bishops I have received over a hundred nobles, offered by gratuitous liberality. Lord
Montioius, a baron of this realm, formerly my disciple, gives me annually a
pension of one hundred crowns.

Rex et Episcopus Lincolniensis, qui nunc per regem omnia potest, magnifice multa promittunt. Sunt hic duae universitates, Oxonia et Cantabrigia, quarum utraque ambit habere me; nam Cantabrigiae menses complures docui Graecas et sacras literas, sed gratis, et ita facere semper decretum est. Sunt hic collegia, in quibus tantum est religionis, tanta vitae modestia, ut nullam religionem non sis prae hac contempturus, si videas.

The King and the Bishop of Lincoln, who now, by the king, can do everything, magnificently promise many things. There are here two universities, Oxford and Cambridge, each of which aspires to have me; for at Cambridge I taught for several months Greek and sacred letters, but gratis, and thus to do has always been decreed. There are here colleges, in which there is so much religion, such modesty of life, that you would hold any religion in contempt in comparison with this, if you should see it.

Est Londini dominus Ioannes Coletus, divi Pauli Decanus, vir qui summam doctrinam cum admirabili pietate copulavit, magnae apud omnes auctoritatis. Is me sic amat, id quod sciunt omnes, ut cum nemine vivat libentius quam mecum; ut omittam alios innumeros, ne sim bis molestus et iactantia et loquacitate.

There is in London Master John Colet, Dean of St. Paul, a man who has coupled the highest doctrine with admirable piety, of great authority among all.
He loves me thus, as all know, so that with no one does he live more willingly than with me; not to mention others innumerable, lest I be twice troublesome both with jactation and with loquacity.

Iam ut de operibus meis dicam aliquid, Enchiridion opinor te legisse, quo non pauci fatentur sese ad pietatis studium inflammatos; nihil mihi arrogo, sed gratulor Christo, si quid boni per me contigit illius dono. Adagiorum opus ab Aldo impressum an videris nescio. Est quidem profanum, sed ad omnem doctrinam utilissimum; mihi certe inaestimabilibus constitit laboribus ac vigiliis.

Now, that I may say something about my works, I suppose you have read the Enchiridion, by which not a few confess themselves to have been inflamed to the zeal of piety; I arrogate nothing to myself, but I congratulate Christ, if anything good has happened through me by his gift. The work of Adages printed by Aldus, whether you have seen I do not know. It is indeed profane, but most useful for all doctrine; to me certainly it cost inestimable labors and vigils.

Edidi opus De rerum verborumque copia, quod inscripsi Coleto meo, opus utilissimum contionaturis; at ista contemnunt ii qui omnes bonas contemnunt literas. His duobus annis praeter alia multa castigavi divi Hieronymi Epistolas; adulterina et subditicia obelis iugulavi, obscura scholiis illustravi. Ex Graecorum et antiquorum codicum collatione castigavi totum Novum Testamentum, et supra mille loca annotavi non sine fructu theologorum.

I have published a work On the abundance of things and of words, which I inscribed to my Colet
my own, a work most useful for those about to preach; but such things are despised by those who despise all good
letters. In these two years, besides many other things, I have emended the Epistles of St. Jerome;
the adulterine and subdititious I have slain with obeli, the obscure I have illustrated with scholia. From the collation of Greek and ancient codices
I have corrected the whole New Testament, and I have annotated over 1,000 passages, not without profit for theologians.

Commentarios in Epistolas Pauli incepi, quos absolvam, ubi haec edidero. Nam mihi decretum est in sacris immori literis. In hisce rebus colloco otium meum et negotium.

I have begun Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul, which I shall complete,
when I have published these. For I have resolved to die in sacred letters. In these
matters I place my leisure and my business.

In his magni viri dicunt me valere quod alii non valeant; in vestro vitae genere nihil valiturus sum. Cum multis doctis et gravibus viris habui consuetudinem, et hic et in Italia et in Gallia, sed neminem adhuc repperi qui mihi consuluerit ut ad vos me recipiam, aut qui hoc iudicaverit melius. Quin et ipse felicis memoriae dominus Nicolaus Wernerus, qui te praecessit, semper hoc mihi solitus erat dissuadere, suadens ut alicui episcopo me potius adiungerem, addens se nosse et animum meum et suorum fraterculorum mores; nam iis utebatur verbis lingua vernacula.

In these matters great men say that I prevail
in what others cannot; in your manner of life I shall avail nothing. With
many learned and grave men I have had familiarity, both here and in Italy and
in Gaul, but I have as yet found no one who has advised me that I should betake myself to you,
or who has judged this better. Indeed even the lord Nicholas Werner of happy memory,
who preceded you, was always wont to dissuade me from this, urging that I should rather join myself to some bishop, adding that he knew
both my disposition and the mores of his little brothers; for he used those words in the vernacular tongue.

Et in hoc vitae genere in quo sum, video quae fugiam, sed quid potius sequar non video.

And in this mode of life in which I am, I see what I should shun, but what I should rather follow I do not see.

Nunc restat ut de ornatu quoque tibi satisfaciam. Semper antehac usus sum cultu canonicorum, et ab Episcopo Traiectino, cum essem Lovanii, impetravi ut sine scrupulo uterer scapulari lineo pro veste linea integra, et capitio nigro pro pallio nigro, iuxta morem Lutetiorum. Cum autem adirem Italiam videremque toto itinere canonicos nigra veste uti cum scapulari, ne quid offenderem novitate cultus, veste nigra illic uti coepi cum scapulari.

Now it remains that I also satisfy you concerning attire. I have always hitherto used the cultus of canons, and from the Bishop of Traiectum, when I was at Louvain, I obtained that I might, without scruple, use a linen scapular in place of a full linen garment, and a black hood (caputium) in place of a black pallium, according to the custom of the Lutetians. But when I went to Italy and saw throughout the whole journey that canons used a black garment with a scapular, lest I give offense by the novelty of the dress, I there began to use a black garment with a scapular.

Postea pestis orta est Bononiae, et illic qui curant peste laborantes linteum album ex humero pendens ex more gestant; hi congressus hominum fugitant. Itaque cum die quodam doctum amicum viserem, quidam nebulones eductis gladiis parabant me invadere, et fecissent, ni matrona quaedam admonuisset ecclesiasticum me esse. Altero item die cum Thesaurarii filios adirem, undique cum fustibus in me concurrerunt, et pessimis clamoribus adorti sunt.

Afterwards a plague arose at Bologna, and there those who care for people laboring under the plague customarily wear a white linen cloth hanging from the shoulder; these avoid human congress. And so, when on a certain day I went to visit a learned friend, some ne’er-do-wells, with swords drawn, were preparing to assault me—and they would have done so, if a certain matron had not warned them that I was an ecclesiastic. Likewise, on another day, when I went to the Treasurer’s sons, from all sides they rushed upon me with cudgels, and assailed me with the worst clamors.

Itaque a bonis viris admonitus occultavi scapulare, et impetravi veniam a Pontifice Iulio secundo ut ornatu religionis uterer aut non uterer, ut mihi visum esset, modo haberem vestem sacerdotalem; et si quid ante peccatum esset ea in re, iis literis id totum condonavit. In Italia ergo perseveravi in veste sacerdotali, ne mutatio esset alicui scandalo. Postquam autem in Angliam redii, decrevi meo solito uti ornatu, et domum accersito amico quodam primae laudis et in vita et in doctrina, ostendi cultum quo uti statuissem.

Therefore, admonished by good men, I concealed the scapular, and I obtained pardon from Pope Julius the Second to use or not to use the religious habit, as should seem good to me, provided I had sacerdotal vesture; and if anything had previously been sinned in that matter, by those letters he condoned it all. In Italy therefore I persevered in sacerdotal dress, lest a change be a scandal to anyone. After I returned to England, however, I resolved to use my customary adornment, and, having summoned home a certain friend of the first renown both in life and in doctrine, I showed the attire which I had determined to use.

Rogavi an in Anglia conveniret. Probavit, atque ita in publicum prodii. Statim admonitus sum ab aliis amicis eum cultum in Anglia ferri non posse, ut celarem potius.

I asked whether it would be fitting in England.
He approved, and thus I went forth into public.
I was immediately admonished by other friends that that attire could not be borne in England, that I should rather conceal it.

Celavi; et quoniam non potest ita celari quin aliquando deprehensus scandalum pariat, reposui in scrinium et vetere summi Pontificis auctoritate sum usus usque adhuc. Excommunicant Pontificiae leges eum qui religionis habitum abiecerit, quo liberius inter seculares versetur. Ego coactus deposui in Italia, ne occiderer; deinde coactus deposui in Anglia, quia tolerari non poterat, cum ipse multo maluerim uti.

I hid it; and since it cannot be hidden in such a way that, when at some time discovered, it would not breed scandal, I put it back into a chest and have used up to now the old authority of the Supreme Pontiff. The pontifical laws excommunicate him who has cast off the religious habit, in order that he may more freely move among seculars. I, compelled, laid it aside in Italy, lest I be killed; then, compelled, I laid it aside in England, because it could not be tolerated, though I myself would much rather have used it.

At nunc denuo recipere plus gigneret scandali quam mutatio ipsa gignebat.

But now to take it up again would engender more scandal than the change itself was engendering.

Habes universam vitae meae rationem, habes meum consilium. Cupio et hoc vitae genus mutare, si quod videro melius. Sed in Hollandia quid agam non video.

You have the whole account of my life, you have my plan. I desire also to change this kind of life, if I see something better. But in Holland I do not see what I should do.

Scio non conventurum cum coelo neque cum victu; omnium oculos in me excitabo. Redibo senex et canus, qui iuvenis exivi, redibo valetudinarius; exponar contemptui etiam infimorum, solitus et a maximis honorari. Studia mea compotationibus permutabo.

I know it will not agree with the climate nor with the diet; I shall rouse all eyes upon me.
I shall return an old man and gray, who went out a youth; I shall return valetudinarian;
I shall be exposed to the contempt even of the lowest, I who was accustomed also to be honored by the greatest.
I shall exchange my studies for compotations.

Nam quod polliceris officium tuum in quaerenda sede, ubi cum maximo, ut scribis, vivam emolumento; quid sit, non possum coniectare, nisi forte collocabis me apud monachas aliquas, ut serviam mulieribus, qui nec archiepiscopis nec regibus unquam servire volui. Emolumentum nihil moror; neque enim studeo ditescere, modo tantum sit fortunae ut valetudini et otio literarum suppetat, et vivam nulli gravis. Atque utinam liceat hisce de rebus coram inter nos commentari; nam literis nec satis commode nec satis tuto licet.

Now as to what you promise—your service in
seeking out a seat, where, with the greatest emolument, as you write, I may live; what it may be I cannot
conjecture, unless perchance you will place me with certain nuns, that I may
serve women, I who have never wished to serve either archbishops or kings. I make no account of emolument; for neither do I strive to grow rich, provided only there be so much
of fortune as may suffice for health and the leisure of letters, and that I may live a burden to no one. And would that it were permitted to confer face to face between ourselves about these matters; for by letters
it is permitted neither sufficiently commodiously nor sufficiently safely.

Tuae enim quanquam per certissimos missae sic tamen aberrarant, ut nisi ipse casu me in arcem hanc contulissem, nunquam fuerim visurus; et accepi iam a compluribus ante inspectas. Quare ne quid scripseris arcani, ni certo cognoveris ubi locorum sim et nuntium nactus sis fidissimum. Peto nunc Germaniam, id est Basileam, editurus lucubrationes meas, hac hieme fortassis futurus Romae.

For yours, although sent through the most certain [channels], had nevertheless strayed so that, unless I had by chance betaken myself into this citadel, I should never have seen them; and I received them already as having been inspected beforehand by several.
Wherefore write nothing arcane, unless you have surely learned where in the world I am and have gotten a most trustworthy messenger.
I now seek Germany, that is Basel, about to publish my lucubrations, perhaps this winter I shall be at Rome.

In reditu dabo operam ut pariter colloquamur alicubi. Sed nunc aestas ferme praeteriit et longum est iter. Literas tuas tertio a Pascha die scriptas accepi Nonis Iuliis.

On my return I will make an effort that we may converse together somewhere.
But now summer has almost passed and the journey is long.
I received your letters, written on the third day after Easter, on the Nones of July.

Rogo ut salutem meam tuis piis votis Christo commendare ne neglegas. Cui si certo scirem rectius fore consultum, si ad vestrum redierim contubernium, hac die ad iter accingerer. Bene vale, quondam sodalis suavissime, nunc pater observande.

I ask that you not neglect to commend my salvation to Christ with your pious vows.
To whom, if I knew for certain that it would be more rightly consulted for, if I should return to your companionship,
on this day I would gird myself for the journey. Fare well, once sweetest companion, now
reverend father.

Ex arce Hammensi iuxta Calecium postridie Nonas Iulias Anno 1514.

From the citadel of Hames, near Calais, on the day after the Nones of July (July 8), in the year 1514.

XVII. Erasmus' Reception at Basel

17. Erasmus' Reception at Basel

(Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus Iacobo Wimphelingo, Germanus Germano, Theologus Theologo, Literarum Scientissimo Literarum Sitientissimus S.D.)

(Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam to Jakob Wimpfeling, a German to a German, a Theologian to a Theologian, to the Most Learned in Letters, the Most Thirsting for Letters, sends greetings.)

Iam quod scire cupis quomodo reliquum iter successerit, paucis accipe. Ad oppidum Selestadiense, tuam patriam, feliciter perveni. Ibi continuo primores reipublicae haud scio cuius indicio de meo adventu facti certiores, per publicum nuntium tres exquisitissimi vini misere cantharos xenii nomine.

Now, as to what you wish to know—how the remaining journey succeeded—receive it in brief. Ad the Selestadian town, your fatherland, I arrived happily. There at once the foremost men of the republic, made informed of my arrival—I know not by whose notice— sent, by a public messenger, three flagons (canthari) of most exquisite wine in the name of xenia (guest-gift).

Invitarunt ad prandium in diem posterum; verum excusavi, properans ad hoc negotium in quo nunc sum. Ioannes Sapidus, tuus in literis alumnus, qui te moribus quoque mire refert quique te non secus ac patrem et amat et suspicit, Basileam usque nos est prosecutus. Illic admonueram hominem ne me proderet: delectari me paucis amiculis sed exquisitis ac delectis.

They invited me to a luncheon for the next day; but I excused myself, hastening
to this business in which I now am. Johannes Sapidus, your alumnus in letters,
who also marvelously recalls you in morals and who loves and looks up to you no otherwise than as a father,
escorted us as far as Basel. There I had admonished the man not
to betray me: that I take delight in a few friends, but exquisite and selected.

Primum itaque non aderant alii quam ii quos maxime volebam, Beatus Rhenanus, cuius ego prudenti modestia et acerrimo in literis iudicio vehementer delector, nec est quicquam huius cotidiana consuetudine mihi iucundius: item Gerardus Listrius, medicae rei non vulgariter peritus, ad haec Latinae, Graecae et Hebraicae literaturae pulchre gnarus, denique iuvenis ad me amandum natus: ad haec Bruno Amorbachius singulari doctrina, trilinguis et hic. Ioanni Frobenio reddidi literas ab Erasmo missas, addens esse mihi cum eo familiaritatem arctissimam: ab eodem de edendis illius lucubrationibus negotii summam mihi commissam: quicquid egissem, id perinde ut ab Erasmo gestum ratum fore: denique me illi adeo similem ut qui me videret Erasmum videret. Is postea risit intellecta fraude.

First, therefore, there were present no others than those whom I most wished: Beatus Rhenanus, whose prudent modesty and most keen judgment in letters I am vehemently delighted with, nor is anything more pleasant to me than his daily consuetude; likewise Gerardus Listrius, no vulgar expert of the medical art, and besides this finely well-versed in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew literature, in sum a young man born for loving me; and in addition Bruno Amorbachius, of singular doctrine, trilingual too. To Johann Froben I gave the letters sent by Erasmus, adding that I had with him the closest familiarity; that the sum of the business about publishing his lucubrations had been committed to me by the same; that whatever I should have done would be held valid as though done by Erasmus; finally, that I was so like him that whoever saw me saw Erasmus. He afterwards laughed when the trick was understood.

Socer Frobenii, resolutis omnibus quae debebantur in diversorio, nos una cum equis ac sarcinis in suas aedes traduxit. Post biduum huius academiae doctores per theologicae professionis decanum et alterum quendam in posterum diem nos ad cenam vocarunt. Aderant omnes omnium facultatum, ut vocant, doctores.

Frobenius’s father-in-law, with all that was owed at the inn settled,
conducted us, together with our horses and baggage, into his own house.
After two days, the doctors of this academy, through the dean of the theological
profession and a certain other, invited us to dinner for the following day.
All the doctors of all the faculties, as they call them, were present.

Erant me cotidianis officiis oneraturi, ni iam accinctus ad laborem institutum rogassem uti me mihi relinquerent.

They were about to burden me with quotidian offices, had I not, already girded for the instituted labor, requested that they leave me to myself.

Audio passim apud Germanos esse viros eleganter eruditos, quo mihi magis ac magis arridet et adlubescit mihi mea Germania; quam piget ac pudet tam sero cognitam fuisse. Proinde facile possum adduci ut hic hiemem usque ad Idus Martias. Deinde confectis quae volo in Italia negotiis ad Idus Maias vos revisam.

I hear everywhere among the Germans that there are men elegantly erudite, wherefore my Germany smiles upon me more and more and
is more and more to my liking; which it irks and shames me to have been known so late. Therefore I can easily be induced to winter here up to the
Ides of March. Then, the business I wish in Italy having been completed, by the Ides of May
I will revisit you.

Atque id faciam lubentius, si velut de eodem quod aiunt oleo eademque opera universas lucubrationes meas hibernis his mensibus liceat emittere. Adagiorum opus iam excudi coeptum est. Superest Novum Testamentum a me versum et e regione Graecum una cum nostris in illud annotamentis.

And I shall do this more gladly, if it be permitted, as from the same, as they say, oil and with the same effort
to send forth all my lucubrations in these winter months.
The work of the Adages has already begun to be printed. What remains is the New Testament
translated by me and, opposite, the Greek, together with our annotations upon it.

Tum epistolae divi Hieronymi a nobis recognitae et a supposititiis ac nothis repurgatae, necnon et scholiis nostris illustratae. Praeterea Senecae oratoris omnia scripta non sine maximis sudoribus a nobis emaculata. Fortassis et scholiorum nonnihil adiciemus, si dabitur otium.

Then the epistles of the divine Jerome, re-examined by us and purged of the supposititious and illegitimate, and likewise illustrated with our scholia.
Moreover, all the writings of Seneca the Orator, emended by us not without very great labors.
Perhaps we shall also add not a little by way of scholia, if leisure is granted.

Sunt et alia minutalia, de quibus minus solliciti sumus. Quae si suscipiet hic chalcographus, abdemus nos testudinum ritu, non ad somnum sed ut toti versemur in hoc negotio. Ex Italia reduces, uti spero, dies aliquot salutandis et cognoscendis Germaniae proceribus sumemus.

There are also other minutiae, about which we are less solicitous. If this chalcographer undertakes these, we will hide ourselves in the manner of tortoises—not for sleep, but that we may be wholly engaged in this business. Returned from Italy, as I hope, we shall spend several days in greeting and getting to know the magnates of Germany.

Nam hos vere proceres existimo non qui funes aureos collo circumferunt quique parietes et vestibula pictis maiorum imaginibus ornant, sed qui veris ac suis bonis, hoc est eruditione, moribus, eloquentia, patriam suam ac suos non solum illustrant sed etiam adiuvant.

For these I truly deem to be nobles, not those who carry golden chains around the neck and who adorn walls and vestibules with painted images of their ancestors, but those who, by true and their own goods, that is, by erudition, morals, and eloquence, not only illuminate but also aid their fatherland and their own people.

XVIII. Bishop Fisher

18. Bishop Fisher

(Erasmus Reuchlino Suo S.D.)

(Erasmus to his own Reuchlin, sends greetings.)

Nullo sermone consequi queam quo studio, qua veneratione, tuum nomen prosequatur magnus ille literarum ac pietatis antistes, Episcopus Roffensis; adeo ut cum antehac plurimi fecerit Erasmum, nunc admiratione Reuchlini paene contemnat: quae res adeo me nulla urit invidia, ut vehementer etiam gaudeam proque mea virili currentem, quod aiunt, exstimulem. Nullas ad me dat literas (scribit autem crebrius) in quibus non faciat honorificentissimam tui mentionem. Decreverat posito cultu episcopali, hoc est linea veste qua semper utuntur in Anglia nisi cum venantur, traicere, hac praecipue causa impulsus quo tecum colloqui liceret; tanta habet hominem discendi tuique sitis.

By no speech could I succeed in expressing with what zeal, with what veneration, your name is celebrated by that great prelate of letters and piety, the Bishop of Rochester; to such a degree that, whereas previously he made very much of Erasmus, now by admiration of Reuchlin he almost contemns him: a thing that so far inflames me with no envy, that I even rejoice greatly and, to the extent of my virile power, as they say, I spur him as he runs. He sends me no letters (and he writes rather frequently) in which he does not make a most honorific mention of you. He had resolved, having laid aside episcopal attire, that is, the linen garment which they always wear in England unless when they hunt, to cross over, impelled especially by this cause, that he might speak with you; so great a thirst for learning and for you possesses the man.

Atque hac lege nos ad navim properantes decem apud sese dies detinuit, ut una traiceremus. Verum incidit postea cur mutaret consilium; at, si rem distulit, animi propositum non mutavit. In extremo digressu sollicite me rogavit qua re posset tibi gratum facere.

And upon this condition, as we were hastening to the ship, he detained us with him for ten days, so that we might cross over together. But afterward there occurred a reason for him to change his counsel; yet, though he deferred the matter, he did not change the purpose of his mind. At our last parting he solicitously asked me by what means he could do something pleasing to you.

Respondi tuam fortunam non esse eiusmodi ut magnopere egeres pecunia, verum si mitteret anulum aut vestem aut aliud eiusmodi quod ceu sui monumentum posses amplecti, id fore gratissimum. Respondit se nihil laborare quanti constaret, modo tibi gratum esset. Collaudavi hominis animum; suspicor eum brevi ad te venturum.

I replied that your fortune was not of such a sort that you greatly needed money, but that if he were to send a ring or a vestment or another thing of that sort, which you could embrace as, so to speak, his monument, that would be most pleasing. He replied that he did not trouble himself how much it cost, provided it were pleasing to you. I commended the man’s spirit; I suspect he will shortly come to you.

Interim fac scribas mihi quid tibi potissimum mitti cupias; nullis ille parsurus est sumptibus. Sensi illum avidissimum calamorum Niloticorum, cuiusmodi mihi tres donasti; proinde si tibi sunt aliquot, nullum munus gratius mittere possis. Non gravaberis eum crebris appellare literis, et item Coletum.

Meanwhile, see that you write to me what you most wish to be sent to you; he will spare no expense. I perceived him most eager for Nilotic calami—Nile reed-pens—of which sort you gave me three; accordingly, if you have several, you could send no gift more gratifying. You will not be reluctant to address him with frequent letters, and Colet likewise.

Uterque tui studiosissimus est, uterque talis est, ut etiam si nulla speraretur utilitas, tamen ob egregias quibus praediti sunt virtutes et animum in te propensum, digni essent amore mutuo. Nunc ambo summam apud suos obtinent auctoritatem; Coletus etiam regiae maiestati intimus est et ad privatissimum colloquium quoties vult admittitur.

Each of the two is most devoted to you,
and each is such that even if no utility were hoped for, nevertheless on account of the excellent
virtues with which they are endowed and a mind inclined toward you, they would be worthy of mutual
affection. Now both hold the highest authority among their own; Colet also
is intimate with the royal majesty and is admitted to the most private colloquy as often as he wishes.

Leo summus pontifex ad meam epistolam quam excusam legisti diligenter respondit; nec minus amanter quam diligenter adiecit alterum Breve, quo me sua sponte Regi Anglorum commendavit haudquaquam more vulgari; atque id nominatim adiecit, se id sua sponte facere nec a me nec a quoquam ut id faceret rogatum. Responderat uterque Cardinalis; verum hae literae in Germaniam missae sunt ad Richardum Paceum, hominem egregie doctum, qui nunc apud Helvetios oratorem gerit. Quin et Pontificis Brevia mihi non ante sunt reddita quam in Angliam redii; quae si tempore fuissent reddita, fortasse et Hieronymum Leoni dedicassem.

Leo, the Supreme Pontiff, to my letter which you read in fair copy diligently replied; and no less lovingly than diligently he appended another Brief, by which of his own accord he commended me to the King of the English in no ordinary fashion; and he expressly added this, that he was doing it of his own accord and had been asked neither by me nor by anyone to do it. Both Cardinals had replied; but these letters were sent into Germany to Richard Pace, a man excellently learned, who now bears the office of orator among the Swiss. Indeed even the Pontiff’s Briefs were not delivered to me before I returned to England; which, if they had been delivered in time, perhaps I would also have dedicated Jerome to Leo.

Mihi vixdum in Brabantiam reverso illustrissimus princeps meus Carolus praebendam donavit satis et honorificam et copiosam.

To me, scarcely returned to Brabant,
my most illustrious prince Charles granted a prebend quite both
honorable and copious.

Revisi Britanniam salutaturus Maecenates meos et amicos veteres; repperi multo nostri quam reliqueram amantiores. Archiepiscopus cum semper amaret unice, nunc tantum adiunxit veteri in me studio ut ante parum amasse videri possit. Omnia sua mihi detulit; recusavi pecuniam.

I revisited Britain to salute my Maecenases and old friends; I found them much more affectionate toward me than when I had left them.
The Archbishop, although he always loved me uniquely, now so much added to his old zeal for me that formerly he might seem to have loved me too little.
He offered all his own to me; I refused money.

Abeunti donavit equum et calicem cum operculo elegantissimum inauratum, pollicitus apud mensarios pecuniam quantam iussero se depositurum. Novum Testamentum plurimos amicos mihi conciliavit ubique, tametsi nonnulli strenue reclamarint, praesertim initio; sed hi in absentem tantum et ferme tales ut nec legerint opus meum et, si legerint, non intellecturi.

As I was departing he gave me a horse and
a most elegant gilded chalice with a lid, promising that with the bankers
he would deposit as much money as I should order. The New Testament has conciliated very many friends
for me everywhere, although some have vigorously protested, especially
at the beginning; but these only against me in my absence, and for the most part such as that they have not even read my work,
and, if they should read it, would not be likely to understand it.

Scribe ad nos frequenter, doctissime Reuchline. Quicquid Antuuerpiam miseris ad Petrum Aegidium, scribam publicum, id mihi certo reddetur. Bene vale, Germaniae decus.

Write to us frequently, most learned Reuchlin. Whatever to Antwerp
you may send to Peter Giles, public scribe, that will certainly be delivered to me. Fare
well, ornament of Germany.

Si Philippum iuvenem ad Roffensem miseris tuis commendatum literis, mihi crede, tractabitur humanissime et ad amplissimam fortunam provehetur; nec usquam continget plus otii ad optimas literas. Fortassis ille sitit Italiam. At his temporibus Italiam habet Anglia et, ni plane fallor, quiddam Italia praestantius.

If you send the young Philip to the Bishop of Rochester, commended by your letters, believe me, he will be treated most humanely and will be promoted to a most ample fortune; nor will he anywhere obtain more leisure for the best letters. Perhaps he thirsts for Italy. But in these times England possesses Italy and, unless I am plainly deceived, something surpassing Italy.

Rursum vale.

Again, farewell.

Calecii VI Kalendas Septembres.

At Calecium, 27 August.

XIX. A Journey from Basel to Louvain

19. A Journey from Basel to Louvain

(Erasmus Rhenano Suo S.D.)

(Erasmus to his Rhenanus, greetings.)

Accipe, me Beate, totam itineris mei tragicocomoediam. Mollis etiamnum ac languidulus, ut scis, Basileam relinquebam, ut qui nondum cum coelo redissem in gratiam, cum tamdiu domi delituissem, idque perpetuis laboribus distentus. Navigatio fuit non inamoena, nisi quod circa meridiem solis aestus erat submolestus.

Receive, my Beatus, the whole tragicocomedy of my journey. Soft and still a little languid, as you know, I was leaving Basel, as one who had not yet returned into favor with the sky, since I had skulked at home for so long, and, too, stretched thin by perpetual labors. The voyage was not un-pleasant, except that around midday the heat of the sun was somewhat troublesome.

Brisaci pransi sumus, sed ita ut nunquam insuavius. Nidor enecabat, tum nidore graviores muscae. Desedimus plus semihoram ad mensam otiosi, donec adornarent scilicet illi suas epulas.

At Brisach we lunched, but never more unsavory.
The reek was killing us, then flies, more oppressive with the reek. We sat idle for more than half an hour at table,
until, to wit, those fellows should prepare their own courses.

Tandem nihil appositum est quod edi posset; sordidae pultes, offae, salsamenta non semel recocta, merae nauseae. Gallinarium non adii. Qui hunc renuntiavit teneri febri, bellum quiddam adiecit; Minoritam illum theologum, quicum mihi fuerat concertatio, sacros calices oppignerasse suo iure.

At length nothing was set before us that could be eaten; filthy porridges, lumps, salsamenta re-cooked more than once, sheer nauseas.
I did not go to the Gallinarium.
He who reported him to be held by a slight fever added a pretty something besides: that that Minorite theologian, with whom I had had a contestation, had pawned the sacred chalices in his own right.

O Scoticam subtilitatem! Sub noctem eiecti sumus in vicum quendam frigidum; cuius nomen nec libuit scire nec, si sciam, velim edere. Illic paene exstinctus sum.

O Scottish subtlety! Toward nightfall we were cast out into a certain cold village;
whose name it did not please me to learn, nor, if I should know it, would I wish to publish. There
I almost perished.

In hypocausto non magno cenavimus plus opinor sexaginta, promiscua hominum colluvies, idque ad horam ferme decimam: o qui fetor, qui clamor praesertim ubi iam incaluerant vino! Et tamen ad illorum clepsydras erat desidendum.

In a not-large hypocaust we supped more, I suppose
than sixty, a promiscuous colluvies of men, and that almost to the tenth hour: o
what a stench, what a clamor, especially when they had now warmed with wine! And yet by
their clepsydras one had to sit idle.

Mane multa adhuc nocte e stratis exturbamur clamore nautarum. Ego et incenatus et insomnis navim ingredior. Argentinam appulimus ante prandium ad horam ferme nonam; illic commodius accepti sumus, praesertim Schurerio suppeditante vinum.

In the morning, with much of the night still remaining, we are driven out of our beds by the clamor of the sailors. I both
dinnerless and sleepless, board the ship. We put in at Strasbourg before
luncheon at about the ninth hour; there we were received more comfortably, especially
with Schurerius supplying wine.

Aderat aliqua sodalitatis pars, mox universi salutatum veniunt, sed nemo officiosius Gerbelio. Gebuilerius et Rudalphingius me immunem esse voluerunt; quod iam illis novum non est. Illinc equis Spiram usque contendimus; neque usquam militis umbram vidimus, cum rumor atrocia sparsisset.

Some part of the sodality was present; soon all come to offer greetings, but no one more obligingly than Gerbelio. Gebuilerius and Rudalphingius wanted me to be exempt; which by now is nothing new for them. From there we pressed on by horses all the way to Spira; and nowhere did we see so much as the shadow of a soldier, though rumor had scattered atrocious reports.

Anglus equus plane defecit vixque Spiram attigit; sic eum tractaverat sceleratus iste faber, ut illi ambae aures ferro candenti inurerentur. Spirae furtim subduxi me e diversorio, et ad Maternum meum vicinum me recipio. Illic Decanus, vir doctus et humanus, suaviter et comiter nos biduum accepit.

The English horse plainly gave out and scarcely
reached Speyer; thus had that wicked smith handled him, that both his ears
were seared with glowing iron. At Speyer I stealthily withdrew myself from the inn, and
I take myself in to my neighbor Maternus. There the Dean, a learned and humane man,
sweetly and affably received us for two days.

Hic forte fortuna Hermanum Buschium repperimus.

Here, by a stroke of fortune, we found Hermannus Buschius.

Illinc curru vectus sum Wormaciam, atque hinc rursus Maguntiam. Forte in eundem currum inciderat quidam Caesaris secretarius, Ulrichus cognomento Farnbul. Is incredibili studio tum itinere toto me observavit, tum Maguntiae non passus ingredi diversorium ad aedes canonici cuiusdam pertraxit: abeuntem ad navem deduxit.

From there I was carried by carriage to Worms, and from here again to Mainz. By chance into
the same carriage had fallen a certain secretary of the Emperor, Ulrich by cognomen
Farnbul. He, with incredible zeal, both attended me the whole journey, and at Mainz
not allowing me to enter the inn, drew me to the house of a certain canon:
he escorted me, as I was departing, to the ship.

Navigatio non fuit inamoena, ob coeli commoditatem, nisi quod longior erat, nautarum studio. Ad haec offendebat equorum paedor. Comitati sunt me primum diem officii gratia Ioannes Longicampianus qui pridem Lovanii professus est: et huius amicus iureconsultus quidam.

The navigation was not unpleasant, on account of the sky’s commodiousness, except that it was longer, by the sailors’ zeal. Besides this, the reek of the horses offended. John Longicampianus, who formerly professed at Louvain, and his friend, a certain jurisconsult, accompanied me the first day for duty’s sake.

Aderat et Wesphalus quidam dominus Ioannes, canonicus apud Sanctum Victorem extra Maguntiam, homo commodissimus ac festivissimus.

There was also present a certain Westphalian, Lord John, a canon at Saint Victor outside Mainz, a most obliging and most festive man.

Ubi Popardiam appulimus, nosque, dum exploratur navis, in ripa deambulabamus, nescio quis agnitum me telonae prodidit. Telones est Christophorus, ni fallor, Cinicampius, vulgato verbo Eschenfelder. Incredibile dictu quam gestierit homo prae gaudio.

When we put in to Popardia, and while the ship was being inspected, we were strolling on the bank,
someone or other, having recognized me, betrayed me to the customs‑officer. The customs‑officer is
Christopher, unless I am mistaken, a Cinicampian—by the vulgar word, Eschenfelder. Incredible to say how the man exulted for joy.

Pertrahit in aedes suas. In mensula inter syngraphas telonicas iacebant Erasmi libelli. Beatum se clamitat, advocat liberos, advocat uxorem, advocat amicos omnes.

He draws us into his house. On the little table, among telonic syngraphs, Erasmus’s little books were lying. He cries out that he is blessed,
he summons the children, he summons his wife, he summons all his friends.

Interim nautis vociferantibus mittit duos vini cantharos, rursum vociferantibus mittit alteros, pollicitus ubi redierint se illis vectigal remissurum, qui talem virum sibi advexerint. Hinc officii gratia comitatus est nos Confluentiam usque dominus Ioannes Flaminius, virginibus sacris illic praefectus, vir angelicae puritatis, iudicii sobrii sanique, doctrinae non vulgaris. Confluentiae dominus Matthias, officialis episcopi, nos domum suam rapit, homo iuvenis sed moribus compositis; Latini sermonis exacte peritus, tum iureconsultissimus.

Meanwhile, the sailors vociferating, he sends two tankards of wine; vociferating again, he sends others, having promised that when they returned he would remit the customs to them, who had conveyed such a man to himself. Hence, by way of courtesy, Sir John Flaminio, set over the sacred virgins there, a man of angelic purity, of sober and sound judgment, of no common learning, accompanied us as far as Confluentia. At Confluentia, Sir Matthias, the bishop’s official, sweeps us into his house, a young man but with composed manners; an exact master of Latin speech, and moreover a consummate jurist.

Illic cenatum est hilariter.

There we dined cheerfully.

Apud Bonnam nos reliquit ille canonicus, vitans urbem Coloniensem; quam et ipse vitare cupiebam, sed minister cum equis eo praecesserat, neque quisquam erat in navi certus, cui de ministro revocando negotium committere potuissem: et nautis diffidebam. Mane itaque ante sextam Agrippinam appulimus die Dominico, coelo iam pestilenti. Diversorium ingressus mando hospitii ministris de conducenda biga, et cibum ad decimam parari iubeo.

At Bonn that canon left us, avoiding the city of Cologne; which I too was eager to avoid, but the attendant with the horses had gone on ahead there, nor was there anyone on the boat reliable, to whom I could commit the business of recalling the attendant could I have: and I was distrustful of the sailors. Therefore in the morning, before the sixth hour, at Agrippina we put in on the Lord’s Day, the sky now pestilent. Having entered the inn I instruct the servants of the lodging about hiring a two-horse cart, and I order food to be prepared at the tenth hour.

Audio sacrum, prandium differtur. De biga non successit. Tentatur de equo conducendo; nam mei erant inutiles.

I hear of the sacred rite, luncheon is deferred.
As for the two‑horse carriage, it did not succeed.
An attempt is made to hire a horse; for my own were useless.

Nihil succedit. Sensi id quod erat. Agebatur ut illic haererem.

Nothing succeeded. I sensed what it was. It was being arranged that I should stick there.

Ego protinus iubeo meos adornari equos, imponi alteram manticam, alteram hospiti committo, et claudo meo equo ad Comitem Novae aquilae percurro: est autem iter horarum quinque. Is agebat Bedburii.

I at once order my horses to be made ready, to have one saddlebag put on,
the other I entrust to the host, and, on my own horse, I race to the Count
of New Eagle: moreover the journey is five hours. He was staying
at Bedbury.

Apud hunc suavissime quinque dies sum commoratus tanta tranquillitate et otio, ut bonam recognitionis partem apud eum peregerim; nam eam Novi Testamenti partem mecum abduxeram. Utinam hominem nosses, mi Beate. Iuvenis est, sed rara et plusquam senili prudentia, pauciloquus, sed quod de Menelao praedicat Homerus, argute loquitur, immo cordate, citra ostentationem doctus non in uno studiorum genere tantum, totus candidus et amico amicus.

With this man I stayed most sweetly for five days with such tranquillity and leisure, that I completed a good part of the recognition there with him; for I had taken with me that portion of the New Testament. Would that you knew the man, my Beatus. He is a young man, but with a rare and more-than-elder prudence, of few words, but—as Homer predicates of Menelaus—he speaks shrewdly, rather, with good heart and sense, learned without ostentation, not in one kind of studies only, altogether candid and to a friend a friend.

Iam firmus eram ac robustulus, iam mihi pulchre placebam, ac fore sperabam ut validus Episcopum inviserem Leodiensem et alacrem me redderem amicis Brabanticis. Quae convivia, quas gratulationes, quas confabulationes mihi promittebam. Decreveram, si vernasset autumnus, Angliam adire, et quod rex iam toties offert, accipere.

By now I was firm and rather robust, by now I was pleasing myself nicely, and I was hoping that, strong, I might visit the Bishop of Liège and render myself cheerful to my Brabantine friends.
What banquets, what gratulations, what confabulations I was promising myself!
I had decided, if autumn had turned vernal, to go to England, and to accept what the king has now so many times offered.

Sed o fallaces mortalium spes! o subitas et inopinatas rerum humanarum vices! E tantis felicitatum somniis in extremum exitium praecipitatus sum.

But O deceitful hopes of mortals! O sudden and unforeseen vicissitudes of human affairs! Out of such great dreams of felicities into extreme ruin I have been precipitated.

Iam in posterum diem erat conducta biga. Comes nolens mihi ante noctem valedicere, praedicavit se ante abitum mane visurum me. Ea nocte saeva quaedam venti tempestas coorta est, quae et ante diem proximum praecesserat. Ego nihilo secius surgo post noctis medium, annotaturus quaedam Comiti; cumque iam esset hora septima, nec prodiret Comes, iubeo illum excitari.

Already for the following day a two-horse carriage had been hired.
The Count, unwilling to bid me farewell before nightfall, proclaimed that before his departure in the morning he would see me.
On that night a certain savage tempest of wind arose, which had even preceded the coming day.
I nonetheless rise after the middle of the night, intending to note down certain things for the Count; and when now it was the seventh hour, and the Count did not come forth, I order him to be roused.

Venit et, ut est modestissimo pudore praeditus, rogat num esset sententia discedere coelo tam incommodo; se mihi timere. Ibi, mi Beate, Iupiter nescio quis aut malus genius, non dimidium mentis, ut ait Hesiodus, sed totam mentem ademit; nam dimidium mentis ademerat, cum Coloniae me committerem. Atque utinam aut ille acrius amicum commonuisset, aut ego verecundis sed amicissimis monitis obsequentior fuissem.

He comes and, as he is endowed with the most modest modesty, asks whether there was an intention
to depart with the sky so incommodious; he fears for me. There, my Beatus, some Jupiter I-know-not-what
or an evil genius took away not half my mind, as Hesiod says, but my whole
mind; for he had taken away half my mind when I committed myself at Cologne. And would that either he had more sharply admonished his friend, or I had been more compliant to the modest yet
most friendly admonitions.

Rapit me fati vis. Quid enim aliud dicam? Conscendo bigam non tectam, flante vento

The force of fate carries me off. For what else shall I say I mount an uncovered two-horse chariot, the wind blowing

Postridie pertrahor ad aedes Vicepraepositi; nam ad illum redibat periodus. Ibi cum praeter anguillam nihil esset piscium, -- nimirum tempestas fuerat in culpa, cum ipse sit alioqui splendidus convivator --, expleo me pisce durato ventis, quem a baculo quo contunditur, Germani stockfisch vocant: nam eo alioqui satis delector; sed comperi partem huius adhuc crudam fuisse. A prandio, quoniam coelum erat pestilentissimum, in diversorium me confero.

The next day I am dragged along to the house of the Vice-Praepositus; for the period had returned to him. There, since besides eel there was nothing of fish — of course the weather had been to blame, though he himself is otherwise a splendid convivator — I fill myself up with fish hardened by the winds, which from the stick with which it is pounded the Germans call stockfisch: for I am otherwise quite delighted by it; but I found out that a part of this had still been raw. After luncheon, since the sky was most pestilential, I betake myself to the inn.

Iubeo excitari foculum. Confabulatur mecum canonicus ille, vir humanissimus, ferme sesquihoram. Deinde pactus cum auriga de manticis, rursus invitor ad cenam.

I order that the brazier be kindled. That canon converses with me,
a most humane man, for nearly an hour and a half. Then, having made a pact with the coachman about the
saddle-bags, I am again invited to dinner.

Excuso, non proficio. Apparatus tum erat praelautus, sed mihi frustra. Ubi confovissem stomachum sorbitiuncula, domum me confero; dormiebam enim apud cantorem.

I excuse myself; I make no progress. The apparatus was then very sumptuous, but for me in vain. When I had warmed my stomach with a little sipping-broth, I betake myself home; for I was sleeping at the cantor’s.

Egredior; ibi corpus inane mire ad nocturnum coelum inhorruit. Nox gravis fuit.

I go out; there my empty frame marvelously shuddered toward the nocturnal heaven. The night was heavy.

Postridie mane rursus hausta cervisiola tepida cum paucis micis panis, equum conscendo morbidum et claudum; quo fuit incommodior equitatio. Iam sic affectus eram, ut magis conveniret lecto confoveri quam equo insidere. Sed ea regio non parum habet rusticitatis, commoditatis aut elegantiae minimum, et illic mihi ne valere quidem satis esset commodum, nedum aegrotare: quo magis libebat effugere.

The next day in the morning, having again drained a small draught of tepid ale with a few crumbs of bread, I mount a sick and lame horse; whereby the ride was the more incommodious. Already I was thus affected, that it were more fitting to be comforted in bed than to sit on a horse. But that region has no small amount of rusticity, the least measure of convenience or elegance, and there for me not even to be well would be sufficiently commodious, much less to be sick: wherefore I was the more eager to escape.

Latronum periculum (nam ibi summum erat) aut certe metum extudit morbi molestia. Confectis eo cursu quatuor passuum milibus perventum est ad Mosae Traiectum. Illic sorbitiuncula utcunque confoto stomacho, rursus inscensis equis Tongros adeo.

The peril of brigands (for there it was at the highest), or at least the fear, was beaten out by the trouble of the sickness.
With four miles finished on that course, I came to Mosae Traiectum.
There, by a little sip, my stomach somehow warmed, again, having mounted my horse, I go on to the Tongri.

Id oppidum abest tribus milibus passuum. Haec postrema equitatio mihi longe gravissima fuit. Incommodus incessus equi mire torquebat renes.

That town is distant by three
miles. This last ride was by far the most grievous for me. The incommodious gait of the horse marvellously wrenched my loins.

Tolerabilius ambulabam pedibus, sed metuebam sudorem, et periculum erat ne nox in agris nos occupasset; itaque incredibili totius corporis cruciatu Tongros pervenio.

I was walking more tolerably on foot, but I was fearing sweat, and there was peril lest night in the fields should overtake us; and so with incredible torment of the whole body I arrive at Tongres.

Iam ob inediam ac laborem inediae additum omnes corporis nervi defecerint; adeo ut nec firmus esset status aut incessus. Lingua -- nam ea valebat -- dissimulabam morbi magnitudinem. Hic cervisiaria sorbitiuncula foto stomacho cubitum eo. Mane iubeo conduci bigam tectam.

Already, because of fasting and the labor added to fasting, all the sinews of the body had failed; to such a degree that neither my stance nor my gait was firm. By my tongue -- for that was strong -- I was dissembling the magnitude of the sickness. Here, with a little beer-sip, my stomach warmed, I go to bed. In the morning I order a covered two-horse carriage to be hired.

Mihi visum est ob silices equo insidere, donec ad terrenam viam esset ventum. Conscendo maiorem equum, quod is commodius iret per saxa et pedibus certioribus. Vix conscenderam, contactus coelo frigido sentio oboriri glaucoma, posco pallium.

It seemed to me, on account of the flints, to sit upon the horse, until an earthen road was reached.
I mount the larger horse, because it would go more conveniently over the rocks and with surer feet.
I had scarcely mounted, when, touched by the cold sky, I feel glaucoma arising; I ask for a cloak.

Sed mox syncopis successit. Vel manu contacta poteram excitari. Ibi meus Ioannes cum ceteris astantibus passi sunt in equo sedentem mea sponte expergisci.

But soon syncope ensued. Even by a touch of the hand I could be roused. There my John, together with the other bystanders, allowed me, as I sat on the horse, to awaken of my own accord.

Experrectus bigam ascendo.

Awakened, I ascend the two-horse chariot.

Iam eramus vicini oppido Divi Trudonis. Rursus inscendo equum, ne biga vectus viderer aegrotus. Rursus coelo vespertino offensus nauseo, sed citra syncopim.

We were already near the town of Saint Trudo. Again I mount the horse, lest, carried in a biga I should seem sick. Again, offended by the evening sky, I feel nauseated, but short of syncope.

Offero duplum pretium bigario, ut me postridie vehat usque ad Tenas. Id oppidum abest a Tongris sex milibus passuum. Accipit conditionem.

I offer a double price to the biga-driver, that he may carry me on the next day as far as Tenas.
That town is distant from the Tongri by six miles.
He accepts the condition.

Hic hospes mihi notus narrat quam graviter tulerit Episcopus Leodiensis, quod se insalutato discessissem Basileam petens. Confoto stomacho sorbitiuncula eo cubitum. Hic forte quadrigam nactus, quae Lovanium peteret (aberat autem sex milibus passuum), in eam me conicio.

Here a host known to me relates how gravely the Bishop of Liège took it, that I had departed without saluting him, making for Basel.
With my stomach comforted by a little sip of broth, I go to bed.
Here by chance, having found a four-horse carriage which was aiming for Louvain (it was six miles distant), I throw myself into it.

Incredibili molestia vectus sum, ac paene intolerabili, sed tamen eo die ad horam septimam pervenimus Lovanium.

I traveled with incredible discomfort, and almost intolerable, yet on that day we arrived at Louvain at the seventh hour.

Non erat sententia petere meum cubiculum, vel quod suspicabar illic frigere omnia, vel quod nolebam committere ut, si pestis rumor ex me fuisset ortus, collegii commodis aliquo pacto officerem. Ad Theodoricum typographum diverto, amicum sincerum. Ea nocte eruperat inscio me maximum ulcus, iamque dolor conquieverat.

It was not my intention to seek my room, either because I suspected that everything there was freezing, or because I did not wish to allow that, if a rumor of plague had arisen from me, I might in some way do disservice to the college’s interests. I turn aside to Theodoric the typographer, a sincere friend. That night a very great ulcer had burst forth, unbeknownst to me, and now the pain had quieted.

Postridie accerso chirurgum. Apponit malagmata. Iam novum ulcus accesserat in tergo, quod minister fecerat Tongris, dum ob renum dolorem ungens me oleo rosaceo, digito calloso durius fricat costam quandam.

The next day I summon the chirurgeon. He applies malagmata (emollient poultices). Already a new ulcer had arisen on my back, which the attendant had made at Tongres, while, on account of kidney pain, anointing me with rose-oil,
with a calloused finger he rubbed a certain rib too hard.

Id post exulceratum est. Abiens chirurgus clam dicit Theodorico et famulo pestem esse; missurum quidem malagmata se, non venturum autem ipsum ad me. Accerso medicos, negant quicquam esse morbi: rursum alios consulo, idem affirmant. Accerso Hebraeum, is optabat tale corpus suum quale meum esset.

That afterwards was ulcerated. Departing, the surgeon secretly says to Theodoricus and the servant that it is the plague; that he would indeed send malagmata, but that he himself would not come to me.
I summon physicians; they deny that there is anything of disease: again I consult others; they affirm the same.
I summon a Hebrew; he wished that his own body were such as mine.

Cum non rediret uno atque altero die chirurgus, rogo Theodoricum quid sit in causa. Excusat ille nescio quid. At ego rem suspicans 'Quid?' inquam, 'Num iudicat esse pestem?' 'Hoc ipsum' inquit 'constanter affirmat; tres esse carbunculos.' Risi satis, nec ullam pestis imaginationem demitto in animum.

When the surgeon did not return for one day and then another, I ask Theodoric what is the
cause. He excuses something or other, I know not what. But I, suspecting the matter, say, 'What?'
'Does he judge it to be the plague?' 'This very thing,' he says, 'he steadfastly affirms: that there are
three carbuncles.' I laughed enough, and I admit no imagination of plague into my
mind.

Post dies aliquot venit chirurgi pater, inspicit, idem iudicat, et in os asseverat germanam esse pestem. Nec sic quidem mihi persuaderi potuit. Accerso clam alterum chirurgum magni nominis.

After several days the surgeon’s father came, inspected, judged the same, and to my face asseverated that it was the genuine plague. Not even so could I be persuaded. I secretly summon another surgeon of great renown.

Inspicit; is vero, ut erat homo rusticior, 'Non vererer' inquit, 'tecum cubare'; idem sentiebat Hebraeus. Accerso medicum quendam, cui plurimum tribuunt Lovanii; nam hic bonos esse medicos admodum est rarum. Rogo numquid mali portenderet corpus; negat.

He inspects; he indeed, as he was a rather rustic man, 'I would not hesitate,' he says, 'to lie with you in bed'; the same was the feeling of the Hebrew.
I summon a certain physician, to whom they attribute very much at Louvain; for here it is very rare that there are good physicians.
I ask whether the body portended anything evil; he denies it.

Narro de ulceribus, addens argumenta, quibus colligerem non esse pestem. Ulcera non erant nova neque sponte nata. Nulla febris, nullus insignis capitis dolor nisi ob iactionem, nulla somnolentia, palatum perpetuo sanissimum.

I relate about the ulcers, adding arguments by which I would infer that it is not pestilence.
The ulcers were not new nor spontaneously arisen.
No fever, no notable headache except on account of jactation, no somnolence, the palate perpetually most sound.

Cetera sat fortiter audierat. At simul atque ulcerum mentio facta est, sensi hominem pertimescere. Do medico coronatum aureum, pollicitus est se post prandium ad me rediturum.

He had heard the rest bravely enough. But as soon as mention of the ulcers was made, I sensed the man take fright. I give the physician a gold crown; he promised he would return to me after dinner.

Is territus ex oratione mittit ministrum. Reicio; et iratus medicis Christo medico me commendo. Stomachus intra triduum restitutus est, hausto pullo gallinaceo contuso, et cyatho vini Belnensis.

He, terrified by the oration, sends an attendant. I reject him;
and, angry at the physicians, I commend myself to Christ the Physician.
My stomach was restored within three days, after a draught of pounded chicken-broth had been taken, and a small cup of Belnensian wine.

Hic protinus ad studii quoque laborem reversus, absolvo quod deerat in Novo Testamento.

Here immediately, having returned also to the labor of study, I complete what was lacking in the New Testament.

Apud Theodoricum curatus fere quatuor hebdomadis, in cubiculum meum remigravi. Semel duntaxat ad proximum templum exii sacri gratia, nondum sat firmis viribus. Si pestis fuit, pestem eam labore et incommoditate animique robore depuli: quando saepenumero magna morbi pars est morbi imaginatio.

At Theodoric’s, having been cared for nearly four weeks, I returned to my chamber. Only once did I go out to the nearest temple for sacred purposes, my strength not yet quite firm. If it was the pestilence, I drove off that pest by labor and inconvenience and by strength of spirit: since very often a great part of disease is the imagination of disease.

Ab adventu protinus edixeram ne quis me adiret, nisi nominatim accitus, ne vel ego cuiquam essem terrori vel mihi quisquam officio suo molestus: tamen irrupit Dorpius omnium primus; mox Atensis, Marcus Laurinus et Paschasius Berselius, qui cotidie aderant, mihi bonam morbi partem ademerunt mellitissima consuetudine sua.

From my advent I had forthwith edicted that no one should approach me, unless summoned by name, lest either I be a terror to anyone or anyone be troublesome to me by his office: nevertheless Dorpius broke in first of all; soon Atensis, Marcus Laurinus and Paschasius Berselius, who were present daily, took from me a good part of the malady by their most honey-sweet consuetude.

Mi Beate, quis crederet hoc corpusculum exile, delicatum, atque etiam aetate iam imbecillius, post tot itinerum labores, post tot studiorum sudores, tot etiam morbis suffecturum? Scis enim quam graviter paulo ante laborarim Basileae, idque non semel. Nonnulla suspicio tangebat animum meum, eum annum mihi fore fatalem; adeo malo malum succedebat, semperque gravius.

My Beatus, who would believe that this little body, slight, delicate, and now also more imbecile with age, would suffice after so many labors of journeys, after so many sweats of studies, and even so many illnesses? For you know how gravely I was ailing a little before at Basel, and that not once. Some suspicion was touching my mind that that year would be fatal for me; so far did evil succeed evil, and always graver.

Ego vero tum etiam cum maxime morbus urgebat, sic eram affectus ut nec vitae desiderio cruciarer nec mortis metu trepidarem. In uno Christo tota spes erat, a quo nihil aliud precabar, nisi ut daret quod mihi saluberrimum esse iudicaret. Iuvenis olim, ut memini, ad nomen etiam mortis solebam inhorrescere.

Indeed, even then when most of all the illness was pressing me, I was so affected that I was tormented neither by desire of life nor did I tremble from fear of death.
In Christ alone was the whole hope, from whom I prayed nothing else, except that he would grant what he should judge to be most salutary for me.
Once, as a youth, as I remember, I used even to shudder at the very name of death.

Hoc certe profeci accessione aetatis, mortem leviter metuo, neque metior hominis felicitatem longaevitate. Annum excessi quinquagesimum, ad quem cum ex tam multis tam pauci perveniant, iure queri non possum me parum diu vixisse: deinde si quid hoc ad rem pertinet, iam nunc paratum est monimentum, quo posteris tester me vixisse. Et fortassis a rogo, quemadmodum poetae loquuntur, ut consilescet livor, ita magis elucescet gloria: quanquam non convenit ut Christianum pectus tangat humana gloria: utinam ea contingat gloria ut Christo probemur.

This at least I have gained with the accession of age: I lightly fear death, nor do I measure a man’s felicity by longevity. I have passed the fiftieth year, to which, since out of so many so few attain, by right I cannot complain that I have lived too short a time: then, if this has anything to do with the matter, even now a monument is prepared, by which I testify to posterity that I have lived. And perhaps from the pyre, as the poets speak, as envy shall fall silent, so the more will glory shine out: although it does not befit that a Christian breast be touched by human glory: would that that glory befall, that we may be approved by Christ.

Bene vale, Beate carissime. Cetera cognosces ex literis ad Capitonem. Lovanii.

Fare well, dearest Beatus. You will learn the rest from the letters to Capito. At Louvain.

Anno M. D. XVIII.

In the year 1518.

XX. English Universities

20. English Universities

(Clarissimo Baroni Gulielmo Montioio Erasmus Roterodamus S.D.)

(To the most illustrious Baron William Mountjoy, Erasmus of Rotterdam sends greetings.)

Unice Maecenas, antehac gratulatus sum Angliae tuae, quae tot haberet viros egregia probitate parique doctrina praeditos: nunc propemodum invidere incipio, quae sic efflorescat omni genere studiorum, ut omnibus regionibus laudem praeripiat ac paene tenebras offundat. Quanquam ista laus haud ita nova est vestrae insulae, in qua constat et olim eximios viros exstitisse. Declarant id vel academiae vestrae, quae vetustate nobilitateque cum vetustissimis ac celeberrimis certant.

Matchless Maecenas, formerly I have congratulated your England, which had so many men endowed with outstanding probity and equal learning: now I almost begin to envy, which so blossoms in every kind of studies, that from all regions it snatches praise and almost casts them into darkness. Although that praise is not so new to your island, in which it is agreed that formerly exceptional men have existed. Your academies declare this, which in antiquity and nobility vie with the most ancient and most celebrated.

Deamo Richardum episcopum Wintoniensem, qui magnificentissimum collegium suo sumptu proprie dicavit bonis literis. Magis autem exosculor egregium ac prorsus heroicum animum Thomae Cardinalis Eboracensis, cuius prudentia schola Oxoniensis non solum omni linguarum ac studiorum genere, verum et moribus qui deceant optima studia, condecorabitur. Nam Cantabrigiensis academia iampridem omnibus floret ornamentis, praeside Ioanne episcopo Roffensi, qui nulla in parte non egregium agit praesulem.

I dearly love Bishop Richard of Winchester, who at his own expense has dedicated a most magnificent college to good letters. But I embrace even more the distinguished and downright heroic spirit of Thomas, Cardinal of York, by whose prudence the Oxford school will be adorned not only with every kind of languages and studies, but also with morals that befit the best studies. For the Cambridge academy has long flourished with all ornaments, with John, Bishop of Rochester, presiding, who in no respect performs other than an excellent prelate.

Ceterum huius laudis praecipua portio regio pectori, velut horum consiliorum fonti, debetur. Cum tot regnis ac regibus altissima pax est atque, ut augurari libet, aeterna. Pelluntur nocentes, vigent bonae leges, evehuntur optimae literae.

Moreover, the chief portion of this praise is owed to the royal heart, as to the fountain of these counsels is due. With so many realms and kings there is most lofty peace and, as it is permitted to augur, eternal. The guilty are expelled, good laws thrive, the best letters are exalted.

Rex ipse hisce rebus omnibus non solum auctor est ac dux, verum etiam exemplum, primus ipse praestans quod praescribit. Nulli mortalium magis ex animo bene volo quam tibi; et tamen parum abest quin invideam tuae celsitudini, quae tantis bonis fruatur sine me quondam commodorum et incommodorum socio. Quodque gravius est, interim dum tu tot nominibus felix es, mihi cum taeterrimis quibusdam non hominibus sed portentis conflictandum; in quo mehercle lubens experirer quid posset eloquentia, ni me Christianus pudor, ceu Pallas quaepiam Homerica, iam capulo manum admoventem capillos vellicans revocaret.

The King himself in all these matters is not only author and leader,
but also an exemplar, he himself first performing what he prescribes. To none
of mortals do I more heartily wish well than to you; and yet it is little short of my
envying your Highness, who enjoys such great goods without me, once
a companion in advantages and disadvantages. And what is more grave, meanwhile while you are in so many respects
happy, I must wrestle with certain most loathsome not men but
portents; in which, by Hercules, I would gladly make trial what eloquence could do,
if Christian modesty, like some Homeric Pallas, did not call me back, tugging at my hair, when my hand was already moving to the hilt.

Bene vale.

Fare well.

Antuuerpiae. Anno M. D. XIX. Calendis Maiis.

At Antwerp. In the year 1519. On the Kalends of May.

XXI. An Explosion at Basel

21. An Explosion at Basel

(Erasmus Roterodamus Nicolao Vario Marvillano S.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam to Nicolaus Varius Marvillanus, greeting.)

Multa quidem nova cotidie nobis gignit hic Africa nostra, Nicolae carissime; sed quaedam eius sunt generis, ut nec tibi gratum arbitrer futurum legere nec mihi tutum scribere. Quod nuper accidit accipe. Ad duodecimum Calendas Octobris, evocatus amoenitate coeli, secesseram in hortum, quem Ioannes Frobenius satis amplum et elegantem meo commercatus est hortatu.

Many indeed new things every day this our Africa here begets for us, dearest Nicholas; but some of them are of such a kind that I judge neither that it will be pleasant for you to read nor safe for me to write. Receive what has lately happened. On the twelfth day before the Kalends of October (September 20), called forth by the amenity of the sky, I had withdrawn into the garden, which Johann Froben, quite ample and elegant, has purchased at my exhortation.

Nam ibi soleo pomeridianis aliquot horis vel somnum obrepentem arcere vel assiduitatis taedium fallere, si quando invitat aeris temperies. Post deambulatiunculam conscenderam domunculam hortensem, iamque coeperam aliquid ex Chrysostomo vertere, cum interim vitreas fenestras ferit fulmen, sed tacitum ac lene. Primum suspicabar oculorum esse errorem.

For there I am accustomed for several postmeridian hours either to ward off the sleep stealing upon me
or to beguile the tedium of assiduity, whenever the temperateness of the air invites. After a brief deambulation I had ascended the little garden-house, and now I had begun
to translate something from Chrysostom, when meanwhile a bolt of lightning strikes the glass windows,
but silent and gentle. At first I suspected it was an error of the eyes.

Cum rursus semel atque iterum effulsisset, demiror ac prospicio si se vertisset coelum, contractisque nubibus pluviam ac tempestatem minaretur. Ubi nihil video periculi, ad librum redeo. Mox auditur sonitus, sed obtusior.

When again once and again it had flashed forth, I marvel and look out to see whether the sky had turned itself,
and, the clouds having been drawn together, was threatening rain and a tempest. When I see nothing
of danger, I return to the book. Soon a sound is heard, but duller.

Ad eum modum poetae narrant Iovem ludere, si quando est hilarior; siquidem longe aliud fulminis genus erat quo gigantum moles disiecit ac Salmonea et Ixionem demisit in Tartara. Paulo post emicat plus fulgoris, et audio fragorem horribilem, cuiusmodi fere crepitus audiri solet, si quando fulminis ictus impegit se vehementius in aliquid solidum.

In that fashion
the poets narrate that Jove plays, whenever he is more cheerful; since indeed it was a far different
kind of thunderbolt with which he scattered the masses of the Giants and sent Salmoneus and Ixion
down into Tartarus. A little after, more brightness flashes forth, and I hear a horrible crash,
the sort of crack that is commonly heard whenever a stroke of lightning has driven itself more forcefully into something solid.

Etenim cum agerem Florentiae eo tempore quo Iulius Pontifex, terrenus Iuppiter, tonabat ac fulminabat adversus Bononiam, magnam diei partem et tonabat vehementer et fulminabat, magnaque vis imbrium ruebat. Cum horribilis fragor insonuisset, territus subduxi me et ad ceteros redii. 'Aut me plane fallit' inquam 'animus, aut post hunc crepitum audietis aliquid parum laeti nuntii.' Et ecce non ita multo post, venit chirurgus nuntians in collegio virginum tres ictas; quarum una mox exanimata est, altera propemodum exstincta, tertia sic afflicta ut negaret esse spem vitae.

For indeed when I was living in Florence at that time when Julius the Pontiff, an earthly Jupiter, was thundering and hurling lightning against Bologna, for a great part of the day he both was thundering vehemently and was hurling thunderbolts, and a great force of rains was rushing down. When a horrible crash had resounded, terrified I withdrew myself and returned to the others. 'Either my mind plainly deceives me,' I said, 'or after this crack you will hear some tidings little joyful.' And behold, not very long after, a surgeon came announcing in the college of virgins that three had been struck; of whom one was soon lifeless, another well-nigh extinguished, the third so afflicted that he said there was no hope of life.

Ad similem itaque sonitum surrexi et prospicio quae sit coeli facies. Ad laevam erat serenitas, ad dexteram conspicio novam nubis speciem, velut e terra sese proferentis in sublime, colore propemodum cinericio, cuius cacumen velut inflexum sese demittebat. Dixisses scopulum quempiam esse vertice nutantem in mare.

To a similar sound, therefore, I rose and look out to see what the face of the sky was. On the left there was serenity, on the right I behold a new appearance of a cloud, as if from the earth putting itself forth aloft, of a color almost cinereous, whose summit, as if inflected, was letting itself down. You would have said it was some crag, with its vertex nodding into the sea.

Quo contemplor attentius, hoc minus videbatur nubi similis. Dum ad hoc spectaculum stupeo, accurrit famulorum unus quem domi reliqueram, admonens ut subito me domum recipiam; civitatem armatam in tumultu esse. Nam is mos est huic reipublicae, ut sicubi fuerit exortum incendium, confestim armati procurrunt ad tuendas portas ac moenia.

The more I contemplate it attentively, the less it seemed like a cloud. While I am stupefied at this spectacle, one of the servants, whom I had left at home, runs up, warning that I should at once withdraw home; that the city, armed, was in tumult. For this is the custom of this republic: that wherever a conflagration has arisen, they immediately run forth armed to guard the gates and the walls.

Nec satis tutum est armatis occurrere; ferrum enim addit ferociam animis, praesertim ubi nihil est periculi. Hortus autem in quo studebam erat pone moenia. Recurro domum, multis obviis armatis.

Nor is it quite safe to meet men under arms; for iron adds ferocity to the spirits, especially where there is no danger. However, the garden in which I was studying was behind the walls. I run back home, with many armed men meeting me.

Aliquanto post rem totam didicimus, quae sic se habebat.

Somewhat later we learned the whole matter which stood thus.

Paucis ante diebus in unam turrim earum quibus moenia ex intervallis muniuntur, delata fuerant aliquot vasa pulveris bombardici. Ea cum magistratus iussisset reponi in summa camera turris, nescio quorum incuria reposita sunt in imam turrim. Quod si vis pulveris in summo fuisset, tectum modo sustulisset in aera, reliquis innocuis.

A few days earlier, into one of the towers by which the walls are fortified at intervals, there had been brought several vessels of gunpowder. When the magistrate had ordered these to be stored in the top chamber of the tower, through the negligence of I know not whom they were placed in the lowest part of the tower. But if the force of the powder had been at the top, it would only have lifted the roof into the air, the rest unharmed.

Ac miro casu per rimas illas speculatorias fulmen illapsum attigit pulverem, moxque vasa omnia corripuit incendium. Primum impetus incendii tentavit an esset oneri ferendo possetque totam molem in altum tollere. Idque testantur qui viderunt turrim iuxta partes imas hiantem semel atque iterum, sed rursus in se coeuntem.

And by a wondrous chance through those observation slits
a lightning-bolt, having glided in, touched the powder, and soon the conflagration seized all the vessels.
At first the impetus of the fire tested whether it was equal to bearing the burden
and whether it could lift the whole mass on high. And this is attested by those who saw
the tower near its lowest parts gaping once and again, but then coming back together
upon itself.

Ubi vis ignis sensit molem esse graviorem quam ut totam posset subvehere, eo conatu relicto totam turrim in quatuor partes immani crepitu dissecuit, sed tanta aequalitate ut amussi geometrica factum videri posset, ac per aera aliam alio sparsit. Ipse pulvis accensus in altum se recepit, qui flamma consumpta cinericiae nubis praebebat speciem. Vidisses immania fragmenta turris, avium ritu, volitare per aera; quaedam ad ducentos passus deferri, qua dabatur liberum aeris spatium; alia civium domos longo tractu demoliri.

When the force of the fire perceived the mass to be too heavy to upbear it entire, abandoning that endeavor it dissected the whole tower into four parts with an enormous crack, but with such equality that it could seem to have been done by a geometric straightedge, and it scattered one piece here and another there through the air. The powder itself, ignited, withdrew on high, which, the flame consumed, was presenting the appearance of an ashy cloud. You would have seen the huge fragments of the tower, in the manner of birds, flitting through the air; some carried as far as two hundred paces, where a free expanse of air was afforded; others, over a long stretch, demolishing the homes of the citizens.

Non procul a turri magistratus curarat exstruendas aediculas quasdam. Hae lateris unius impetum excepere. Tantus autem erat fragor tamque subitus, ut qui erant in propinquo putarent rupto coelo mundum in chaos abiturum.

Not far from the tower the magistrate had seen to the erection of certain little buildings. These took the impact on one side. And so great was the crash and so sudden, that those who were nearby thought that, the sky having been rent, the world was about to pass into chaos.

Nec ridiculum putabatur quod vulgo dici solet: Quid si coelum ruat? In agris multi sunt ruina oppressi, multi sic membris vel truncati vel afflicti ut miserandum spectaculum praeberent obviis: e quibus aiunt exstinctos numero duodecim, misere vexatos quatuordecim. Sunt qui credant hoc ostento quiddam portendi in futurum; ego nihil aliud arbitror significari quam incogitantiam eorum qui casum eum non usque adeo rarum non praecaverint.

Nor was it thought ridiculous, what is commonly said: What if the sky should fall? In the fields many were crushed by the ruin, many so in their limbs either truncated or afflicted that they presented a pitiable spectacle to passers-by: of whom they say twelve were extinguished, fourteen miserably vexed. There are those who believe that by this portent something is portended for the future; I think nothing else is signified than the thoughtlessness of those who did not take precautions against a mishap not so very rare.

Nec mirum si pulvis ille levissimus disiecit saxeum aedificium: etiam si turrim eam undique ducentorum pedum cinxisset paries, ignis ille subitus ac vehemens disiectis obstaculis omnibus erupisset in suum locum. Quid autem vento mollius? Et tamen inclusus terrae cavis Boreas nonne montes totos concutit, terram hiatu diducit, et interdum campos spatiosos in collem erigit?

Nor is it a marvel if that very light dust scattered a stony edifice: even if a wall two hundred feet high had enclosed that tower on every side, that sudden and vehement fire, all obstacles disjected, would have erupted to its own place. What, moreover, is softer than wind? And yet, shut up in the hollows of the earth, Boreas does he not shake whole mountains, split the earth with a yawning gap, and sometimes heave spacious plains into a hill?

Quis hoc machinarum genus excogitavit? Olim artes ad humanae vitae usum repertas diis attribuit antiquitas, veluti medicinam Apollini, agricolationem Cereri, vitis culturam Baccho, furandi artificium Mercurio. Huius inventi laudem non puto cuiquam deberi, nisi vehementer ingenioso cuipiam, nec minus scelerato cacodaemoni.

Who devised this kind of machinery? Once upon a time antiquity attributed to the gods the arts discovered for the use of human life,
for example, medicine to Apollo,
agriculture to Ceres, cultivation of the vine to Bacchus, the art of stealing to Mercury. I do not think the praise of this invention is owed to anyone, unless to someone exceedingly ingenious,
and no less to a wicked cacodemon.

Si quid tale comminisci potuisset Salmoneus ille, potuisset vel ipsi Iovi medium unguem ostendere. Et tamen hic nunc Christianorum atque adeo puerorum lusus est. In tantum apud nos decrescit humanitas, accrescit immanitas.

If that Salmoneus had been able to devise something of this sort, he could have shown even to Jove himself the middle finger. And yet this now is the sport of Christians and even of boys. To such an extent among us humanity decreases, immanity increases.

Olim Corybantes tympanorum et tibiarum strepitu homines compellebant in rabiem. Habet enim ille sonitus miram vim ad commovendos animos. At horribilius sonant nostra tympana, nunc anapaestis, nunc pyrrhichiis perstrepentia.

Once the Corybants, with the din of drums and pipes, used to compel men into frenzy. For that sound has a wondrous power to stir the spirits. But our drums sound more horribly, now with anapaests, now with pyrrhichs, clamoring incessantly.

At his nunc pro tubis Christiani utimur in bello, quasi illic non satis sit esse fortem, sed oporteat furere. Quid autem dixi de bello? Utimur in nuptiis, utimur diebus festis, utimur in templis.

But now we Christians use these in place of trumpets in war, as if there
it were not enough to be brave, but one ought to be frenzied. But what did I say about war? We use them at nuptials, we use them on festal days, we use them in temples.

Ad furiosum illum sonitum procurrunt in publicum virgines, saltat nova nupta, ornatur festi diei celebritas, qui tum est maxime laetus, si toto die per urbem obambulat plusquam Corybanticus tumultus. At ego arbitror apud inferos non alio organo celebrari dies festos, si modo sunt illic ulli. Plato putat magni referre quo genere musices uteretur civitas, quid dicturus si hanc musicam audisset inter Christianos?

To that furious
sound the virgins run out into the public, the new bride dances, the celebration
of the feast-day is adorned, which then is most joyful, if through the whole day through the city
there walks about a tumult more than Corybantic. But I judge that among the infernal regions the feast-days are celebrated by no other organ,
if indeed there are any there. Plato thinks it matters greatly what kind of music a city uses—what would he be going to say if he had heard this
music among Christians?

Iam hoc musicae genus quod simul et flatile est et pulsatile, in templis sollemne, quibusdam non placet, nisi bellicam tubam longe superat. Nec id satis; sacrificus vocem ad tonitrui fragorem effingit, nec alii magis placent aliquot Germaniae principibus. Adeo nostris ingeniis nihil est dulce quod non sapiat bellum.

Now this kind of music, which is at once wind-blown and percussive, customary in the temples, does not please certain people, unless it far surpasses the war-trumpet. Nor is that enough; the sacrificer fashions a voice to the crash of thunder, nor do other things more please certain princes of Germany. So much are our dispositions that nothing is sweet which does not savor of war.

Sed desino iocari. Bene vale. Datum Basileae sexto Calendas Octobris.

But I cease joking. Fare you well. Given at Basel on September 26.

Anno M.D.XXVI.

In the year 1526.

XXII. Archbishop Warham I

22. Archbishop Warham 1

Nunc fieri videmus ut ex iis qui in diatribis theologicis diutius exercitati sunt, quam plurimi prodeant ad disputandum arguti, ad contionandum accommodi perquam pauci. Hic mihi succurrit vir omnium memoria seculorum dignus, Guilhelmus Waramus, archiepiscopus Cantuariensis, totius Angliae primas, non ille quidem titulo sed re theologus. Erat enim iuris utriusque doctor, legationibus aliquot feliciter obeundis inclaruit et Henrico regi eius nominis septimo, summae prudentiae principi, gratus carusque factus est.

Now we see it come to pass that out of those who have been longer exercised in theological diatribes, very many come forth sharp for disputing, for preaching very few are quite suitable. Here there occurs to me a man worthy of the memory of all ages, William Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England, not indeed a theologian in title but in reality. For he was a doctor of both laws, became renowned by successfully discharging several legations, and to Henry, king, the 7th of that name, a prince of the highest prudence, he became pleasing and dear.

His gradibus evectus est ad Cantuariensis ecclesiae fastigium, cuius in ea insula prima est dignitas. Huic oneri per se gravissimo additum est aliud gravius. Coactus est suscipere cancellarii munus, quod quidem apud Anglos plane regium est; atque huic uni honoris gratia, quoties in publicum procedit, regia corona sceptro regio imposita gestatur.

By these steps he was elevated to the pinnacle of the Church of Canterbury, whose dignity is the first in that island.
To this burden, very heavy in itself, another more grievous was added.
He was compelled to undertake the office of Chancellor, which indeed among the English is plainly regal;
and for this one alone, for the sake of honor, whenever he goes forth in public, the royal crown, with the royal scepter placed upon it, is carried.

Nam hic est velut oculus, os ac dextra regis, supremusque totius regni Britannici iudex. Hanc provinciam annis compluribus tanta dexteritate gessit, ut diceres illum ei negotio natum, nulla alia teneri cura. Sed idem in his quae spectabant ad religionem et ecclesiasticas functiones tam erat vigilans et attentus ut diceres eum nulla externa cura distringi.

For he is, as it were, the eye, the mouth, and the right hand of the king, and the supreme judge of the whole British realm. This province he carried for several years with such dexterity that you would say him born for that business, held by no other care. Yet the same man, in those things which pertained to religion and ecclesiastical functions, was so vigilant and attentive that you would say him to be distracted by no external care.

Sufficiebat illi tempus ad religiose persolvendum sollemne precum pensum, ad sacrificandum fere cotidie, ad audiendum praeterea duo aut tria sacra, ad cognoscendas causas, ad excipiendas legationes, ad consulendum regi si quid in aula gravius exstitisset, ad visendas ecclesias sicubi natum esset aliquid quod moderatorem postularet, ad excipiendos convivas saepe ducentos: denique lectioni suum dabatur otium.

Time sufficed him to discharge religiously the solemn quota of prayers, to
sacrifice almost every day, to hear, moreover, two or three Masses, to
examine causes, to receive legations, to consult with the king if anything more serious
had arisen in the court, to visit churches wherever something had arisen
that would require a moderator, to receive guests, often two hundred:
finally, reading was allotted its own leisure.

Ad tam varias curas uni sufficiebat et animus et tempus, cuius nullam portionem dabat venatui, nullam aleae, nullam inanibus fabulis, nullam luxui aut voluptatibus. Pro his omnibus oblectamentis erat illi vel amoena quaepiam lectio vel cum erudito viro colloquium. Quanquam interdum episcopos, duces et comites habebat convivas, semper tamen prandium intra spatium horae finiebatur.

For such various cares, both spirit and time sufficed to one man, of which he gave no portion to hunting, none to dice, none to empty fables, none to luxury or pleasures. For all these amusements there was for him either some pleasant reading, or a colloquy with a learned man. Although he sometimes had bishops, dukes, and counts as dinner‑guests, nevertheless luncheon was always finished within the space of an hour.

In splendido apparatu quem illa dignitas postulabat, dictu incredibile quam ipse nihil deliciarum attigerit. Raro gustabat vinum, plerumque iam tum septuagenarius bibebat pertenuem cervisiam, quam illi biriam vocant, eamque ipsam perparce. Porro cum quam minimum ciborum sumeret, tamen comitate vultus ac sermonum festivitate omne convivium exhilarabat.

In the splendid apparatus which that dignity demanded, it is incredible to say how he himself touched nothing of delights. Rarely
did he taste wine; for the most part, already then a septuagenarian, he drank a very thin beer, which they call biria, and even that very sparingly. Moreover, although he took as little food as possible, yet by the comitas of his countenance and the festivity of his speeches he cheered every convivium.

Vidisses eandem pransi et impransi sobrietatem. A cenis in totum abstinebat, aut si contigerant familiares amici, quorum de numero nos eramus, accumbebat quidem, sed ita ut paene nihil attingeret ciborum. Si tales non dabantur, quod temporis cenae dandum erat, id vel precibus vel lectioni impendebat.

You would have seen the same sobriety whether lunched or unlunched. From
suppers he wholly abstained, or if intimate friends had happened along, of
whose number we were, he would recline indeed, but in such a way that he touched almost nothing
of the foods. If such were not provided, that portion of time that was to be given to supper, that he
expended either on prayers or on reading.

Atque ut ipse leporibus scatebat mire gratis, sed citra morsum atque ineptiam, ita liberioribus iocis amicorum delectabatur. A scurrilitate et obtrectatione tam abhorrebat quam quisquam ab angui. Sic ille vir eximius sibi faciebat dies abunde longos, quorum brevitatem multi causantur.

And just as he himself brimmed with witticisms, marvelously gratuitous yet short of bite and ineptitude, so he took delight in the freer jests of friends. From scurrility and detraction he recoiled as much as anyone from a snake. Thus that exceptional man made his days abundantly long for himself—of which many complain the shortness.

Et tamen isti qui subinde queruntur ad seria negotia sibi deesse otium, bonam diei partem, interdum et noctis, perdunt in rebus non necessariis.

And yet those who again and again complain that they lack leisure for serious business, waste a good part of the day, and sometimes even of the night, on unnecessary things.

Verum ut eo redeam, cuius gratia interieci hunc sermonem, erat illi iuxta morem horum temporum necessum praeter familiam, quam alere cogebatur numerosissimam, aulae regiae, totius regni negotiis etiam profanis dare operam; nec ibi moribus hodie receptum est ut summi praesules contionentur: tamen quod in hoc officii genere diminutum erat, abunde pensabat gemina vigilantia, partim prospiciens ne quis inutilis ad Dominici gregis curam adhiberetur, partim multos sua liberalitate fovens in literarum studiis, quos sperabat ad bonam frugem evasuros. In hos erat tam exposita liberalitas, ut moriens nihil reliquerit praesentis pecuniae, sed aeris alienis nonnihil; tametsi non deerat unde id dissolvi posset. Haec nequaquam loquor ad gratiam.

But to return to that for the sake of which I interjected this discourse, it was necessary for him, according to the custom of these times, besides the household, which he was compelled to nourish most numerous, to give his effort to the royal court, to the affairs of the whole kingdom, even profane; nor is it today received by manners there that the highest prelates preach: nevertheless, what in this kind of duty was diminished, he abundantly counterbalanced by a double vigilance, partly looking ahead lest anyone unfit be employed for the care of the Lord’s flock, partly fostering many by his liberality in the studies of letters, whom he hoped would come out to good fruit. Toward these his liberality was so expended that, when dying, he left nothing of ready money, but some debts; although there was not lacking whence that could be discharged. I by no means say these things to ingratiate.

Amavi vivum nec minus amo mortuum; quod enim in illo amabam non periit. Si supputem quicquid ille dare mihi paratus erat, immensa fuit eius in me liberalitas; si ad calculum vocemus quod accepi, sane modicum est. Unicum modo sacerdotium in me contulit, immo non dedit sed obtrusit constanter recusanti, quod esset eius generis ut grex pastorem requireret, quem ego linguae ignarus praestare non poteram.

I loved him living, and I no less love him dead; for what I loved in him has not perished.
If I compute whatever he was prepared to give me, his liberality toward me was immense;
if we call to calculation what I received, indeed a modicum.
He conferred upon me only a single sacerdotal office—nay, he did not give but obtruded it upon one constantly refusing—
because it was of such a kind that the flock required a pastor,
whom I, ignorant of the language, was not able to provide.

Id cum vertisset in pensionem, sentiretque me et eam pecuniolam gravatim accipere, quod e populo cui nihil prodessem colligeretur, sic me consolatus est vir egregie pius: 'Quid' inquit 'magni faceres, si uni agresti popello praedicares? Nunc libris tuis omnes doces pastores fructu longe uberiore; et indignum videtur si ad te paulum redit stipis ecclesiasticae? Istam sollicitudinem in me recipio.

When he had turned that into a pension, and perceived that I accepted even that little sum grudgingly, because it was being collected from a people to whom I was of no profit, thus the excellently pious man consoled me: “What great thing would you be doing if you preached to a single rustic little populace? Now, by your books, you teach all the pastors with fruit far more uberous; and does it seem unworthy if a little of the ecclesiastical alms returns to you? I take that solicitude upon myself.”

Providebo ne quid illi desit ecclesiae.' Idque fecit; nam submoto cui resignarem sacerdotium (is erat illi a suffragiis, homo variis distractus negotiis) alium praefecit iuvenem rei theologicae peritum, probatis et integris moribus.

'I will see to it that nothing is lacking to that church.' And he did this; for, with the one removed to whom I might resign the sacerdotal office (he was his officer of suffrages, a man distracted by various affairs) he appointed another young man skilled in the theological field,
of approved and integral morals.

Reverendissimum dominum Ioannem Fischerum, Roffensem episcopum, quod cum aliis omnibus officiis praesule dignis, tum praecipue studio docendi populum verum praestaret episcopum, sic amabat, sic venerabatur, quasi ille fuit metropolitanus, ipse ei suffraganeus. Hoc testimonium defuncto patrono citra adulationis suspicionem praebere licet. Nec ille meis eget laudibus, nec ego ullum adulationis praemium ab eo exspecto.

He so loved, so venerated the Most Reverend Lord John Fisher, bishop of Rochester—because, along with all the other offices worthy of a prelate, yet especially by zeal for teaching the people, he proved a true bishop—as though that man were the metropolitan, he himself his suffragan. This testimony it is permitted to offer to a deceased patron without suspicion of adulation. Neither does he have need of my praises, nor do I expect any reward of adulation from him.

Sed haec ea gratia commemoravi ut ostenderem exemplar, quod secuti huius aetatis antistites facile possint pensare detrimentum officii, quod variis distenti negotiis ad contionandum non habeant vacuum tempus: tum quibus rationibus sibi possint dies reddere longiores, ut ad varias curas et tempus et animus et valetudo sufficiat.

But these things I have commemorated for this purpose,
to show an exemplar, which, if followed, the prelates of this age
may easily counterbalance the detriment to their office, that, stretched thin by various affairs,
they have not vacant time for preaching: then by what
methods they may be able to render their days longer for themselves, so that for various cares both time
and spirit and health may suffice.

XXIII. Archbishop Warham. II

23. Archbishop Warham. 2

(Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus Pio Lectori S.D.)

(Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam to the Pious Reader, sends greetings.)

Cum haec adornaretur editio, incomparabilis heros Guilhelmus Waramus, archiepiscopus Cantuariensis ac totius Angliae primas, terras reliquit et in coeleste contubernium emigravit: vir ex omni virtutum et ornamentorum genere concinnatus, sive spectes in tanto rerum fastigio comitatem etiam infimis obviam, sive in tanta rerum affluentia spontaneam victus sobrietatem, sive in tantis negotiorum undis perpetuam animi tranquillitatem (id quod divinae cuiusdam mentis esse videtur), sive sincerum erga pietatem et religionem affectum, quam semper summo studio, nullo supercilio, tum docuit tum praestitit. Nemo vidit illum nihil agentem. Quis autem non facile condonasset tali viro, si quando animum negotiis externis delassatum iocis aut lusibus relaxasset?

While this edition was being adorned, the incomparable hero William Warham, archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all England, left the earth and migrated into the celestial fellowship: a man composed from every kind of virtues and ornaments, whether you behold, upon so great a pinnacle of affairs, a courtesy that went to meet even the lowest, or, amid so great an affluence of things, a spontaneous sobriety of living, or, in such surging waves of business, a perpetual tranquility of mind (a thing which seems to belong to a certain divine mind), or a sincere affection toward piety and religion, which he ever both taught and exhibited with the highest zeal, with no superciliousness. No one saw him doing nothing. And who would not easily have condoned to such a man, if ever he had relaxed his mind, wearied by external affairs, with jests or games?

At illi pro venatu, pro aucupio, pro alea, pro chartis, pro morionibus proque ceteris avocamentis vulgaribus erat aut frugifera lectio aut cum erudito viro colloquium. Iam vero benignitatem cum in omnes tum praecipue in studiosos quid referam? De me nihil dicam, qui non ita multum ab illo accepi, idque obtrusum verius quam datum: nisi quod in acceptis numero quicquid ille obtulit; obtulit autem frequenter vera fronte fortunarum omnium communionem.

But for him, in place of hunting, of bird-catching, of dice, of
cards, of buffooneries and of the other vulgar avocations, there was either
fruit-bearing reading or colloquy with a learned man. And indeed what shall I recount of his benignity toward
all, but especially toward the studious? Of myself I will say nothing, who did not
receive so very much from him, and that rather thrust upon me than given: except that I reckon among things received
whatever he proffered; and he proffered frequently, with a true countenance, a communion of all his fortunes.

Sed in alios quam non fuerit illius parca liberalitas vel illa vox arguit quam paulo ante mortem emisit. Nuntiantibus enim famulis in thesauro vix esse triginta aureos signatae pecuniae, gratulabundus dixit 'Bene habet. Sic mori semper fuit in votis.

But that his liberality toward others was not sparing even that utterance proves, which he uttered a little before death. With the servants reporting, in fact, that in the treasury there were scarcely thirty aurei of coined money,
exulting he said, 'It is well. Thus to die has always been among my wishes.

Sat est viatici mox hinc emigraturo'. O mentem summo episcopo dignam!

It is enough
of travel-provision for one soon to depart from here'. O a mind worthy of a supreme bishop!

Ex tanta fortuna minimum impendit sibi. Mensa erat et pro more regionis et pro dignitate tanti praesulis splendida, sed in mediis deliciis ipse vulgaribus libentius utebatur atque hoc ipsum parcissime. Cena tam erat frugalis ut prope nulla esset.

Out of so great a fortune he expended the least upon himself. The board was both according to the custom of the region and according to the dignity of so great a prelate splendid, but in the midst of luxuries he himself more gladly made use of common things, and this very thing most sparingly. The supper was so frugal that it was almost none.

Vinum perquam raro gustabat verius quam bibebat, contentus tenuissima cervisia quam illi vulgo biriam appellant. Eadem in cultu frugalitas. Nunquam holosericis utebatur nisi rem divinam peragens; adeo ut cum sub Caroli Caesaris et Regis Angliae conventum, qui fuit ante annos, ni fallor, undecim Calecii, edicto Cardinalis Eboracensis non episcopi tantum sed et inferioris gradus homines cogerentur magnis impendiis ornare sese byssinis ac damascenis, solus omnium ille contempto edicto pilum in cultu suo non mutaverit.

He very rarely tasted wine rather than drank it, content with the thinnest beer which they commonly call biria. The same frugality in attire. He never used all-silk garments unless performing the divine service; to such a degree that when, at the meeting under Emperor Charles and the King of England, which was at Calais eleven years ago, if I am not mistaken,
by an edict of the Cardinal of York not only bishops but also men of lower rank were compelled at great expense to adorn themselves with byssus and damasks, he alone of all, the edict being despised, did not change a hair in his attire.

Quid esse possit illo pectore incorruptius? Nunc felix illa anima, sicut Ecclesiae praeclarum lumen fuit, ita coelesti Hierosolymae sidus illustre addit. Frequenter apud suos hanc vocem solebat emittere: 'Utinam mihi contingat priusquam hinc emigrem, semel videre complectique meum Erasmum.

What could be more incorrupt than that breast? Now that happy soul, just as it was a distinguished light of the Church, so it adds a brilliant star to the heavenly Jerusalem. Frequently among his own he used to utter this saying: 'Would that it may befall me, before I depart from here, once to see and to embrace my Erasmus.'

Nunquam sinam illum a me divelli.' Votum erat mutuum, sed neutri contigit quod optavit. Utinam illud concedat Christi misericordia, ut nos invicem brevi complectamur illic ubi nulla est futura distractio, neque quisquam erit qui vel illum mihi vel me illi invideat.

Never will I allow him to be torn away from me.' The vow was mutual, but neither obtained what he hoped for. Would that Christ’s mercy grant that, that we may embrace each other soon there where there will be no future distraction, nor will there be anyone who will envy either him to me or me to him.

Bene vale, quisquis es qui haec legis.

Farewell, whoever you are who read these things.

Friburgi Brisgoiae Anno M.D.XXXIII.

At Freiburg in Breisgau, in the year 1533.

XXIV. The Lives of Vitrarius and Colet

24. The Lives of Vitrarius and Colet

(Erasmus Roterodamus Iodoco Ionae Erphordiensi S.D.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam sends greetings to Jodocus Jonas of Erfurt.)

Quod tam impense rogas, vir optime, ut tibi Ioannis Coleti vitam paucis velut in brevi tabella depingam, hoc faciam lubentius, quod suspicor te tibi quaerere egregium aliquod pietatis exemplar, ad quod tuum institutum attemperes. Equidem, mi Iona carissime, ut fatear me cum multis habuisse consuetudinem quorum integritas mihi valde probaretur, tamen nullum adhuc vidi in cuius moribus nescio quid adhuc Christianae puritatis non desiderarem, quoties ad horum duorum sinceritatem conferrem aliquem; quorum alterum mihi nosse contigit apud oppidum Artesiae, quod vulgo dicitur sancti Audomari, cum huc me pestis, hac sane in parte mihi felix, Lutetia propulisset; alterum in Britannia, quo me Montioii mei caritas pertraxerat. Lucrum facies, cuius scio te avidissimum; pro uno duos dabo.

Since you so earnestly ask, most excellent man, that I paint for you the life of John Colet in a few as if on a small tablet, I will do this more gladly, because I suspect you to be seeking for yourself some distinguished exemplar of piety, to which you may attune your undertaking. Indeed, my dearest Jonas, to confess that I have had acquaintance with many whose integrity commended itself greatly to me, yet I have as yet seen none in whose character I would not still miss I know not what of Christian purity, whenever to the sincerity of these two I would compare anyone; of whom the one it befell me to know near the town of Artois, which in the common tongue is called Saint-Omer, when the plague, truly in this respect fortunate for me, had driven me hither from Lutetia (Paris); the other in Britain, whither the love of my Mountjoy had drawn me. You will make a profit, of which I know you are most avid; for one I will give two.

Prior dictus est Ioannes Vitrarius, ordinis Franciscani -- nam in hoc vitae genus adolescens inciderat; meo iudicio nulla ex parte posthabendus Coleto, nisi quod ob servitutem instituti minus multis prodesse poterat. Annos natus erat ferme quadraginta quatuor cum hominem nosse coeperam; ac statim adamare me coepit, hominem sui multum dissimilem. Erat auctoritatis maximae apud optimos quosque, multis magnatibus gratissimus, corpore procero et eleganti, natura felici, animo sic excelso ut nihil esset illo humanius.

The former was named John Vitrarius, of the Franciscan order -- for into this
way of life he had fallen in adolescence; in my judgment in no respect to be set after
Colet, except that on account of the servitude of the institute he could benefit fewer. He was nearly forty-four years old when I began to know the man; and
straightway he began to love me, a man very unlike himself. He was of authority
the greatest among the best men, most pleasing to many magnates, in body
tall and elegant, in nature fortunate, in spirit so exalted that nothing was
more humane than he.

Scotias argutias puer imbiberat, quas ne prorsus improbabat, quod quaedam scite dicerentur licet sordidis verbis, nec rursus magni faciebat. Ceterum, ubi contigisset Ambrosium, Cyprianum, Hieronymum degustare, mirum quam prae his illa fastidiebat. Nullius ingenium magis admirabatur in sacris literis quam Origenis: cumque cavillarer me mirari, quod hominis haeretici scriptis delectaretur, ille mira alacritate 'Fieri non potuit' inquit 'quin hoc pectus inhabitarit Spiritus sanctus, unde tot libri tam eruditi tanto ardore scripti prodierunt'.

As a boy he had imbibed the Scotist subtleties, which he did not altogether disapprove, because certain things were said neatly, albeit in sordid words; nor, on the other hand, did he set great store by them. Moreover, when it happened that he sampled Ambrose, Cyprian, and Jerome, it was wonderful how, in comparison with these, he grew fastidious toward those. The genius of no one in sacred letters did he admire more than Origen’s; and when I, jesting, said I marveled that he took delight in the writings of a heretic, he, with wondrous alacrity, said: ‘It could not have been otherwise than that the Holy Spirit inhabited this breast, whence so many books, so erudite, issued forth written with such ardor.’

Quanquam autem illud vitae institutum, in quod per inscitiam aetatis fuerat vel delapsus vel pertractus, nequaquam probabat, subinde dictitans apud me fatuorum esse vitam potius quam religiosorum ad nolae signum dormire, expergisci, redormiscere, loqui, tacere, ire, redire, cibum capere, desinere pastu, denique nihil non facere ad praescriptum humanum potius quam ad Christi regulam: nihil iniquius esse quam inter tam inaequales aequalitatem, maxime quod illic saepenumero coelestia ingenia ac melioribus rebus nata, caerimoniis et constitutiunculis humanis aut etiam livore sepelirentur: tamen nec cuiquam unquam fuit auctor mutandae vitae, nec ipse quicquam huiusmodi molitus est, paratus omnia ferre potius quam ulli mortalium offendiculo esse, Pauli sui exemplum in hoc quoque referens. Nihil autem erat tam iniquum quod ille pacis servandae studio non summa cum alacritate perpeteretur.

Although he by no means approved that institute of life into which through the unknowingness of age he had either lapsed or been drawn, repeatedly saying to me that it was the life of fools rather than of religious to sleep at the bell’s signal, to wake, to fall asleep again, to speak, to be silent, to go, to return, to take food, to cease from feeding, in fine to do nothing not according to a human prescription rather than according to Christ’s rule: that nothing was more iniquitous than equality among such unequal, especially that there far too often heavenly talents and those born for better things were buried by human ceremonies and little constitutions, or even by ill-will: nevertheless he was at no time to anyone an instigator of changing one’s way of life, nor did he himself attempt anything of this sort, prepared rather to bear all things than to be a stumbling-block to any mortal, recalling in this also the example of his Paul. Moreover, there was nothing so unjust that he would not, for zeal in preserving peace, with the highest alacrity endure it.

Libros divinos, praesertim epistolas Pauli, sic edidicerat, ut nemo melius teneret ungues digitosque suos quam ille Pauli sui sermones. Dedisses initium ex quacunque parte, ille mox totam epistolam absque ullo lapsu fuisset prosecutus. Ambrosii pleraque tenebat memoriter.

He had so learned the divine books, especially the epistles of Paul, that no one held his nails and fingers better than he did the discourses of his Paul.
Had you given a beginning from any part, he would soon have pursued the whole epistle without any slip.
He held most of Ambrose by memory.

Vixque credibile est quantum item ex aliis orthodoxis veteribus memoria complecteretur. Praestitit hoc illi partim memoria natura felix, partim assidua meditatio.

And scarcely is it credible how much, likewise, from other orthodox ancients he comprehended by memory. He accomplished this partly through a memory fortunate by nature, partly through assiduous meditation.

Rogatus a me in familiari colloquio, quibus modis praepararet animum suum iturus ad contionandum, respondit se solitum in manus sumere Paulum, et in eius lectione tam diu commorari, donec sentiret incalescere pectus. Illic haerebat, addens igneas ad Deum preces, donec admoneretur esse tempus incipiendi. Non dividebat fere contiones suas; id quod vulgus ita facit, quasi secus facere non liceat; unde fit ut frequenter sit frigidissima distinctio.

Asked by me in a familiar conversation by what methods he prepared his mind when going to deliver a sermon, he replied that he was accustomed to take Paul into his hands, and to linger in reading him until he felt his breast grow warm. There he would remain, adding fiery prayers to God, until he was admonished that it was time to begin. He scarcely divided his sermons; which the common crowd does in such a way as though it were not permitted to do otherwise; whence it comes about that very often the distinction is most frigid.

Quanquam omnis illa distinctionum cura frigus addit orationi, et artificii significationem praebens fidem elevat dicentis. At hic perpetuo quodam sermonis fluxu connectebat sacram Epistolam cum Evangelica lectione, ut auditor domum rediret et eruditior et inflammatior ad studium pietatis. Neque gesticulationibus ineptiebat nec vociferationibus tumultuabatur, sed totus apud se sic promebat verba, ut sentires ex ardenti ac simplici sed sobrio pectore proficisci: nec usquam immorabatur ad taedium usque, neque iactabat sese variis citationibus nominum, quemadmodum nunc e Scoto, Thoma, Durando, nunc ex iuris utriusque libris, nunc e philosophis, nunc e poetis centones frigidos consarcinat, quo populo nihil nescire videantur.

Although all that care for distinctions adds coldness to the oration, and, proffering a signification of artifice, diminishes the speaker’s credit. But he, with a certain perpetual flow of discourse, connected the sacred Epistle with the Evangelical lection,
so that the hearer would return home both more erudite and more inflamed toward the pursuit of piety. He did not play the fool with gesticulations nor raise a tumult with vociferations, but, wholly self-possessed, he brought forth his words in such a way that you would feel them proceeding from a heart ardent and simple yet sober:
nor did he anywhere linger to the point of tedium, nor did he vaunt himself with various citations of names, as nowadays someone, now from Scotus, Thomas, Durandus, now from the books of both laws, now from the philosophers, now from the poets, stitches together cold centos, in order that he may seem to the people to be ignorant of nothing.

Totus sermo quem promebat erat sacrae scripturae plenus, nec aliud ructare poterat. Amabat quod loquebatur.

The whole discourse that he brought forth was full of sacred scripture, nor could he pour forth anything else. He loved what he spoke.

Nonnunquam septies contionabatur uno die, nec unquam illi deerat sermonis eruditi copia, quoties de Christo loquendum erat. Quanquam tota illius vita nihil erat nisi sacra contio. Erat alacer minimeque tetricus in convivio: sed sic ut nullam unquam praeberet speciem levitatis aut ineptiae, luxus aut intemperantiae multo minus.

Sometimes he would preach seven times in one day, nor did he ever lack a copiousness of erudite discourse whenever there was speaking to be done about Christ. Although his whole life was nothing except a sacred sermon. He was lively and by no means dour at table: but in such a way as never to offer any appearance of levity or ineptitude, much less of luxury or intemperance.

Miscebat sermones eruditos, plerumque sacros, et ad pietatem facientes. Talia erant colloquia, si quis illum adibat; aut si quem ille visebat, aut si quo faciebat iter, habebat potentes amicos, qui illi in itinere mulum aliquoties aut equum subiciebant, quo commodius liceret confabulari; ibi promebat vir optimus exhilarato spiritu quae nullis gemmis poterant aestimari. Neminem ab se tristem dimittebat, immo neminem non dimittebat meliorem et ad pietatis amorem animatiorem.

He mingled learned discourses, for the most part sacred, and
making for piety. Such were the conversations, if anyone approached him; or if
he visited anyone, or if he was making a journey anywhere, he had powerful friends who
on the road would sometimes put beneath him a mule or a horse, so that he might more conveniently
converse; there the best of men, with exhilarated spirit, brought forth things which could be appraised by no
gems. He sent no one away from him sad—indeed, he sent away no one not better and more animated
toward the love of piety.

Nihil erat in quo sentire posses illum ulli suo commodo servire; non ventri, non ambitioni, non avaritiae, non voluptati, non odio, non livori, non ullis malis affectibus erat obnoxius. Quicquid acciderat, agebat gratias Deo: nec aliud erat gaudium quam si quos inflammasset ad studium Evangelicae pietatis. Nec irritus fuit illius conatus.

There was nothing in which you could perceive him to serve any advantage of his own; not to the belly, not to ambition, not to avarice, not to pleasure, not to hatred, not to envy, not to any evil affections was he subject. Whatever had happened, he gave thanks to God: nor was there any other joy than if he had inflamed some to the zeal of Evangelical piety. Nor was his endeavor ineffectual.

Complures tum viros tum feminas lucri fecerat Christo: qui quantum differrent ab hoc Christianorum vulgo, mors arguebat. Vidisses enim huius discipulos summa cum alacritate spiritus mori, et sub mortem vere cygneam canere cantionem, ea promentes quae pectus afflatum sacro numine testarentur: cum ceteri peractis caerimoniis et adhibitis sollemnibus illis protestationibus fidentes, diffidentes exhalarent animam. Testis est huius rei medicus eximius eius oppidi Ghisbertus ac pertinax verae pietatis cultor, qui plurimis utriusque scholae morientibus adfuit.

He had gained for Christ many both men and women: and how far they differed from this common crowd of Christians, death was proving. For you would have seen this man’s disciples die with the highest alacrity of spirit,
and, at the point of death, truly sing a swan-song, bringing forth things which attested that the breast was afflated by a sacred numen: whereas the rest, the ceremonies having been completed and those solemn protestations applied, trusting yet distrustful,
breathed out their soul. A witness of this matter is Ghisbertus, an outstanding physician of that town and a steadfast cultivator of true piety, who attended very many dying of both schools.

Pertraxerat aliquot et e sui gregis sodalibus, sed pauciores -- (quemadmodum et Christus apud suos non potuit multas virtutes facere)--; nam illis fere placent qui sua doctrina plurimum commeatus convehunt in culinam, potius quam qui plurimas animas asserunt Christo. Cum autem ab omnibus vitiis abhorrebat animus ille purissimus ac vere templum Christo dicatum, tum maxime a libidine, adeo ut odore talium gravissime offenderetur, tantum aberat ut turpiloquium ferre posset. In vitia vulgi nunquam odiose debacchabatur, neque quicquam adferebat e secretis confessionibus: sed ita depingebat honestatis imaginem, ut se quisque tacitus agnosceret.

He had drawn along several even from the companions of his own flock, but fewer -- (just as even Christ among his own was not able to do many virtues [miracles])--; for they are generally pleased by those who by their doctrine convey the most supplies into the kitchen, rather than by those who assert very many souls for Christ.
But whereas from all vices that most pure mind shrank back, and was truly a temple dedicated to Christ, then most of all from lust, to such a degree that he was most grievously offended by the odor of such people, he was so far from being able to endure filthy speech.
He never raged hatefully against the vices of the crowd, nor did he bring forward anything from secret confessions: but he so depicted the image of honesty, that each person silently recognized himself.

In consiliis dandis mira prudentia, mira integritas, mira dexteritas. Secretas confessiones non admodum volens audiebat, sed tamen in hoc quoque serviebat caritati: anxias ac subinde repetitas confessiones palam detestabatur.

In giving counsels, marvelous prudence, marvelous integrity, marvelous dexterity. Secret confessions he did not very willingly hear, but yet in this too he served charity: anxious and again-and-again repeated confessions he openly detested.

Superstitioni ac caerimoniis minimum tribuebat, vescebatur cibis quibuslibet sobrie et cum gratiarum actione. Vestitus erat nihil ab aliis differens. Solebat nonnunquam et valetudinis causa suscipere iter aliquod, si quando senserat corpus humore degravari.

To superstition and ceremonies he attributed the least; he ate foods of whatever kind
soberly and with thanksgiving. His attire differed in nothing from that of others. He was accustomed sometimes, even for the sake of health, to undertake some journey, if ever
he had felt his body weighed down by humor.

Quodam igitur die, cum persolveret pensum precum matutinarum cum suo sodali, sensissetque stomachum fortassis ob pridianam inediam nauseantem, ingressus domum proximam, sumpsit cibi nonnihil, ac repetito itinere pergebat precari. Ibi cum sodalis illius putaret omnia repetenda ab initio, quod primae horae precibus nondum dictis sumpsisset cibum, ille alacer negavit quicquam esse admissum, immo Deo nonnihil fore lucri. 'Antehac' inquit 'languidi et segnes precabamur; nunc alacribus animis illi dicemus hymnos spirituales; et eiusmodi sacrificiis ille delectatur, quae ab hilari datore offeruntur.'

On a certain day, therefore, when he was paying off the quota of morning prayers with his companion, and had sensed his stomach perhaps, on account of the previous day’s fasting, nauseating, entering a nearby house, he took a little food, and, the journey taken up again, he went on to pray. There, when that companion thought everything must be repeated from the beginning, because, with the prayers of the first hour not yet said, he had taken food, he, brisk, denied that any fault had been committed—nay rather, that there would be some profit for God. 'Previously,' he says, 'we were praying languid and sluggish; now, with lively spirits, we will say to him spiritual hymns; and he delights in sacrifices of this sort, which are offered by a cheerful giver.'

Ego cum id temporis diversarer apud Antonium a Bergis abbatem Bertinicum, nec nisi post meridiem illic pranderetur, neque meus stomachus ferret tam diutinam inediam (erat autem tempus quadragesimae ), praesertim cum totus essem in studiis, solebam ante prandium sorbitiuncula tepida fulcire stomachum, quo duraret in horam prandii. Hac de re cum illum consulerem num liceret, ille circumspecto sodali, quem tum habebat laicum, ne quid offenderetur: 'Immo' inquit 'peccares nisi faceres, et ob cibulum omitteres ista tua sacra studia, tuoque corpusculo faceres iniuriam.'

I, at that time sojourning with Anthony of Bergen, abbot of Saint-Bertin, and since there one did not dine until after midday, nor did my stomach bear so long a fasting (but it was the time of Quadragesima ), especially since I was wholly in studies, I used before the midday meal to prop up my stomach with a little warm sip, so that it might last until the hour of dinner. On this matter when I consulted him whether it were permitted, he, after looking around at his companion, whom he then had as a layman, lest anything be taken amiss: “Nay rather,” he said, “you would sin unless you did it, and on account of a little morsel you would omit those your sacred studies, and you would be doing an injury to your little body.”

Cum Alexander Pontifex ex uno Iubilaeo fecisset duos, quo quaestus esset uberior, eiusque dispensationem Episcopus Tornacensis praesente pecunia suo periculo redimisset, summo studio adnitebantur commissarii, ne sortem perderet Episcopus, immo ut lucrum non poenitendum accederet. Hic in primis ad fabulae partes vocabantur ii qui in contionibus populo essent gratiosi. Noster sentiens id in scrinia conferri, quo sublevabantur ante pauperes, non improbabat quod offerebat Pontifex, nec probabat tamen.

When Alexander the Pontiff had made out of one Jubilee two, so that the profit might be more abundant, and the Bishop of Tournai had redeemed its dispensation with ready money at his own risk, the commissaries strove with utmost zeal that the Bishop should not lose his stake, nay rather that a not-to-be-regretted gain should accrue. Here in the first place those were called to the parts of the play who were popular with the people in their sermons. Our man, perceiving that into coffers was being transferred that by which the poor had formerly been supported, did not disapprove what the Pontiff was offering, yet neither did he approve it.

Ceterum illud improbabat, quod tenues fraudarentur solito subsidio: damnabat stultam eorum fiduciam qui nummo in scrinium coniecto putarent sese liberos a peccatis.

Moreover he disapproved this, that the poor were defrauded of their accustomed subsidy: he condemned the foolish confidence of those who, with a coin thrown into the scrinium, thought themselves free from sins.

Tandem obtulerunt commissarii centum florenos ad structuram templi (nam id tum aedificabantur in eius monasterio), ut si nollet commendare venias pontificias, saltem ea taceret quae officerent. Ibi vir velut afflatu sacro percitus, 'Abite' inquit, 'hinc, Simoniaci, cum vestra pecunia. An eum me putatis qui ob pecuniam sim suppressurus Evangelicum veritatem?

At length the commissioners offered one hundred florins for the structure of the temple (for it was then being built in his monastery), that, if he was unwilling to commend the pontifical indulgences, he would at least be silent about those things which would hinder. There the man, as if stirred by a sacred afflatus, said, 'Begone from here, Simoniacs, with your money. Do you think me the sort of man who, on account of money, would suppress Evangelical truth?

Ea si vestro quaestui obstat, mihi maior esse debet cura animarum quam vestri compendii.' Cessere tum vigori pectoris Evangelici homines male sibi conscii, sed interim praeter exspectationem summo diluculo affixa est excommunicatio; quae tamen a cive quodam detracta est priusquam multis innotesceret.

'If these things obstruct your
profit, the care of souls ought to be greater for me than your gain.'
Then men conscious of their own guilt yielded to the vigor of an Evangelical heart, but
meanwhile, beyond expectation, at the very dawn an excommunication was affixed;
which, however, was taken down by a certain citizen before it became known to many.

Ille nihil his minis territus, summa cum animi tranquillitate docebat populum et Christo sacrificabat: nec ullum metum prae se ferebat talis anathematis, quod ob Christum praedicatum intentaretur. Mox citatus est ad Episcopum Morinensem. Paruit Episcopo suo, venit uno sodali comitatus, nihil ipse de se sollicitus: sed tamen inscio illo cives equitum praesidia collocarant in itinere, ne per insidias interceptus in antrum aliquod coniiceretur.

He, terrified by none of these threats, with the highest tranquillity of mind was teaching
the people and was sacrificing to Christ: nor did he display any fear of such anathema,
which was being threatened on account of Christ preached. Soon he was summoned to
the Bishop of the Morini. He obeyed his Bishop, he came accompanied by one comrade,
himself anxious in no way for himself: but yet, with him unaware, the citizens had placed
cavalry garrisons on the road, lest, intercepted by ambush, he might be cast into some cave.

Quid enim non audet auri sacra fames? Episcopus obiecit articulos aliquot, quos ex illius collegerant contionibus: ille magno animo respondit et Episcopo satisfecit. Aliquanto post denuo vocatus est, obiecti sunt plures: ubi et ad hos responderat, rogabat cur non adessent accusatores, ut suo quoque periculo accusarent: se iam bis venisse honoris illius gratia quod episcopus esset, ceterum non venturum tertio, si simili modo vocaretur: esse sibi domi melius negotium.

For what, indeed, does the accursed hunger for gold not dare? The Bishop objected
several articles, which they had gathered from his sermons: he answered with great
spirit and satisfied the Bishop. Somewhat later he was again summoned, more were
objected: when he had answered these as well, he asked why the accusers were not
present, that they too might accuse at their own peril: that he had already come twice
for the sake of that honor, because he was the Bishop, but that he would not come a third,
if he were called in a similar way: that he had better business at home.

Ita suo ingenio relictus est, sive quia deerat ansa nocendi, sive quia timebant populi tumultum, in quo probitas illius habebat optimum quemque addictissimum: etiamsi ille tale nihil ambiebat.

Thus he was left to his own ingenuity, either because a handle for doing harm was lacking, or because they feared the people’s tumult, in which his probity held each of the best men most devoted: even though he canvassed for nothing of the sort.

Iamdudum rogabis, scio, quis huius viri fuerit exitus. Non solum displicuit commissariis, sed etiam suis fratribus aliquot, non quod non probarent vitam, sed quod ea melior esset quam ipsis expediebat. Totus inhiabat in lucrum animarum, ceterum ad instruendam culinam aut exstruendos parietes, ad illectandos dotatos adolescentes segnior erat quam illi vellent: etiamsi hoc quoque non neglegebat vir optimus, duntaxat si quid ad sublevandam necessitatem pertineret, verum non ut plerique praepostere curabat ista.

By this time you will ask, I know, what the end of this man was. He displeased not only the commissaries, but even some of his own brothers—not because they did not approve his life, but because it was better than was expedient for them. He was wholly intent on the gain of souls; but for equipping the kitchen or for building up walls, for luring endowed adolescents, he was more sluggish than they wished: although this too the most excellent man did not neglect, provided only it pertained to the relieving of necessity, yet he did not, as most do, take care of these things preposterously.

Immo quendam etiam thynnum alienarat: is erat aulicus ac prorsus aulicis moribus, uxorem pro derelicta habens, quam habebat et claro genere natam et aliquot liberorum matrem. Hic cum omnibus tentatis, quo uxorem marito reconciliaret, nihil ageret, nec durus ille vel affinium respectu vel liberorum communium affectu vel sua ipsius conscientia flecteretur, reliquit hominem ceu deploratum. Is paulo post ex more petasonem aut armum suillum misit.

Nay, he had even alienated a certain “tunny”: he was a courtier and wholly of courtly manners,
treating his wife as though cast off, though she was of illustrious birth and the mother of several children.
This man, when, with all attempts tried to reconcile the wife to her husband, he accomplished nothing,
and that hard fellow was not bent either by regard for his affines or by affection for their common children or by his own conscience, he left
the man as one, as it were, despaired of. He, a little later, according to custom, sent a gammon or a pork shoulder
as a present.

Ceterum Ioannes (nam tum Guardianum agebat) mandarat ianitori ne quid reciperet nisi se vocato. Cum adesset munus, vocatus est: ibi famulis qui deferebant heri nomine, 'Referte' inquit 'onus vestrum unde attulistis: nos non recipimus munera diaboli.'

Moreover John (for at that time he was acting as Guardian) had commanded the porter not to receive anything unless he himself had been called. When a gift had arrived, he was called: there, to the servants who were bringing it in their master’s name, he said, 'Carry back your burden whence you brought it: we do not receive the devil’s gifts.'

Itaque tametsi non ignorabant illius vitam ac doctrinam esse seminarium egregium Evangelicae pietatis, tamen quoniam non perinde conducebat proventui culinae, iussus est deponere Guardiani munus: quo nihil ille fecit lubentius, et suffectus est illi quidam quem ego novi, aliunde ascitus, homo non dicam qualis aut quam alteri dissimilis; in summa is mihi visus est cui nemo prudens cauletum suum vellet committere; sive hunc obtruserunt qui cupiebat abesse, sive is visus est ad rem magis idoneus. Porro cum ex eius convictu subolesceret unus atque alter, qui simili spiritu raperetur ad studium consulendi pietati Christianae potius quam ad augendum penus, relegarunt hominem Curtracum in monasteriolum virginum. Ibi quantum licuit, sui similis docens, consolans, adhortans, diem suum feliciter obiit, relictis aliquot libellis, quos e sacris auctoribus decerpserat Gallice; quos non dubito tales esse qualis erat hominis vita et oratio.

Accordingly, although they did not ignore that his life and teaching were a distinguished seminary of Evangelical piety, yet since it did not conduce in like manner to the profit of the kitchen, he was ordered to lay down the office of Guardian: than which he did nothing more gladly, and a certain man whom I know was substituted for him, called from elsewhere, a man—I will not say of what sort or how unlike the other; in sum, he seemed to me one to whom no prudent person would wish to commit his cabbage-plot; whether they thrust upon them this fellow who desired to be away, or he seemed more fit for the affair. Moreover, when from his companionship one and another were sprouting up, who by a similar spirit were carried away to the study of caring for Christian piety rather than of augmenting the larder, they relegated the man to Courtrai into a little monastery of virgins. There, as far as it was permitted, being like himself, teaching, consoling, exhorting, he happily met his day, leaving behind several little books, which he had excerpted from sacred authors in French; which I do not doubt are such as were the man’s life and speech.

Et tamen audio nunc a nonnullis damnari, qui putant esse ingens periculum si populus aliquid legat praeter ineptas fabulas historiarum. Vivit adhuc illius doctrinae scintilla in multorum pectoribus. Sic contemptim habitus est a suis vir ille singularis, qui si Paulo apostolo collega contigisset, nihil addubito quin illum suo Barnabae aut Timotheo fuerit antepositurus.

And yet
I now hear from some that he is condemned, who think there is immense danger if the people

read anything besides the inept fables of histories. The spark of that doctrine still lives in the breasts of many. Thus that singular man was held in contempt by his own, who, if it had befallen him to be a colleague to the Apostle Paul, I do not at all doubt that he would have set him before his own Barnabas or Timothy.

Habes vere gemmeum Vitrarium nostrum, ignotum mundo, celebrem et clarum in regno Christi. Nunc Coletum huic simillimum accipe. Alterum alteri depinxeram, et uterque alterius videndi desiderio flagrabat, atque hac gratia Vitrarius in Angliam traiecerat; ac mihi post narrabat Coletus apud se fuisse Minoritam quendam, cuius colloquio prudenti pioque mirum in modum fuisset delectatus, sed adhibitum alterum quendam eiusdem ordinis Stoicum, qui visus indigne ferre Christianum colloquium interruperit.

You have truly our gemlike Vitrarius, unknown to the world, celebrated and illustrious in
the kingdom of Christ. Now receive Colet, very similar to this man. I had depicted the one to the other,
and each was burning with the desire of seeing the other, and for this reason Vitrarius had crossed over into England; and afterward Colet was telling me
that there had been with him a certain Minorite, by whose prudent and pious colloquy he had been delighted in a wondrous manner,
but that another certain Stoic of the same order had been brought in,
who, seeming to bear it indignantly, had broken off the Christian colloquy.

Ac fortasse Coletus hoc nomine plus laudis meretur, quod nec indulgentia fortunae nec impetu naturae, longe alio trahentis, potuerit ab Evangelicae vitae studio depelli. Natus est enim e claris et opulentis parentibus, idque Londini. Siquidem pater bis in urbe sua praefecturam summam gessit, quam illi Maioritatem appellant.

And perhaps Colet on this score merits more praise, that neither the indulgence of Fortune nor
the impulse of nature, drawing him far elsewhere, could be able to drive him off from the pursuit of Evangelical life.
He was born, indeed, of illustrious and opulent parents, and that in London. For indeed his father twice in his own city held the supreme prefecture,
which they call the Mayoralty.

Mater quae adhuc superest, insigni probitate mulier, marito suo undecim filios peperit ac totidem filias. Quorum omnium natu maximus erat Coletus, ac proinde solus heres futurus iuxta leges Britannicas, etiamsi illi fuissent superstites: sed ex omnibus ille superfuit solus, cum illum nosse coepissem. Accesserat his fortunae commodis corpus elegans ac procerum.

The mother, who still survives, a woman of distinguished probity, bore to her husband eleven sons and just as many daughters. Of all these Colet was the eldest by birth, and accordingly would be the sole heir according to the British laws, even if they had survived; but of them all he alone survived, by the time I began to know him. To these advantages of fortune there was added a body elegant and tall.

Adolescens apud suos quicquid est scholasticae philosophiae, diligenter perdidicit, ac titulum assecutus est, qui septem liberalium artium scientiam profitetur. Quarum nulla erat in qua ille non esset gnaviter ac feliciter exercitatus: nam et libros Ciceronis avidissime devorarat, et Platonis Plotinique libros non oscitanter excusserat, nec ullam mathematices partem intactam reliquit. Post tanquam avidus bonarum rerum negotiator, adiit Galliam, mox Italiam.

A youth, among his own people, diligently learned whatever there is of scholastic philosophy, and attained the title which professes the knowledge of the seven liberal arts. Of which there was none in which he was not industriously and successfully exercised: for he had most eagerly devoured the books of Cicero, and had not drowsily examined the books of Plato and Plotinus, nor did he leave any part of mathematics untouched. Afterward, like an avid negotiator of good things, he went to Gaul, soon to Italy.

Ibi se totum evolvendis sacris auctoribus dedit, sed prius per omnia literarum genera magno studio peregrinatus, priscis illis potissimum delectabatur, Dionysio, Origine, Cypriano, Ambrosio, Hieronymo. Neque tamen non legit Scotum ac Thomam aliosque huius farinae, si quando locus postulabat. In utriusque iuris libris erat non indiligenter versatus.

There he devoted himself wholly to unrolling the sacred authors, but first, through all the kinds of letters he had peregrinated with great zeal,
and he especially took delight in those ancients—Dionysius, Origen, Cyprian, Ambrose, Jerome.
Nor, however, did he not read Scotus and Thomas and others of this flour, whenever the occasion demanded.
In the books of both laws he was not indiligently versed.

Denique nullus erat liber, historiam aut constitutiones continens maiorum, quem ille non evolverat. Habet gens Britannica qui hoc praestiterunt apud suos quod Dantes ac Petrarcha apud Italos. Et horum evolvendis scriptis linguam expolivit, iam tum se praeparans ad praeconium sermonis Evangelici.

Finally, there was no book containing the history or the constitutions of the ancestors that he had not unrolled. The British nation has those who have accomplished among their own what Dante and Petrarch did among the Italians. And by unrolling the writings of these he polished his language, already then preparing himself for the proclamation of the Evangelical sermon.

Reversus ex Italia, mox relictis parentum aedibus Oxoniae maluit agere. Illic publice et gratis Paulinas epistolas omnes enarravit. Hic hominem nosse coepi, nam eodem tum me deus nescio quis adegerat; natus tum erat annos ferme triginta, me minor duobus aut tribus mensibus.

Having returned from Italy, soon, with the house of his parents left behind, he preferred to live at Oxford. There he publicly and gratis expounded all the Pauline epistles. Here I began to know the man, for at that time some god—I know not who—had compelled me to the same place; he was then about thirty years old, my junior by two or three months.

In Theologica professione nullum omnino gradum nec assecutus erat nec ambierat: tamen nullus erat illic doctor vel Theologiae vel Iuris, nullus abbas aut alioqui dignitate praeditus, quin illum audiret, etiam allatis codicibus: sive hoc laudis debetur Coleti auctoritati, sive illorum studio, quos non puduerit senes a iuvene, doctores a non doctore discere: tametsi post ultro delatus est doctoris titulus, quem ille recepit magis ut illis gereret morem quam quod ambiret.

In the theological profession he had attained no degree at all, nor had he canvassed for one; nevertheless there was there no doctor either of Theology or of Law, no abbot or otherwise one endowed with dignity, who did not listen to him, even bringing their codices: whether this meed of praise is owed to Colet’s authority, or to the zeal of those whom it did not shame—old men to learn from a youth, doctors from a non-doctor: although afterwards the title of doctor was unbiddenly conferred, which he accepted rather to accommodate them than because he courted it.

Ab his sacris laboribus, Regis Henrici, eius nominis septimi, favore Londinum est revocatus, ac Decanus apud divum Paulum factus, ut illius praeesset collegio cuius literas sic adamabat. Est autem dignitas eius nominis apud Anglos prima, tametsi sunt aliae proventu magis opimo. Hic vir optimus tanquam ad opus vocatus, non ad dignitatem, collegii sui collapsam disciplinam sarsit, et, quod erat illic novum, singulis diebus festis in suo templo contionari instituit, praeter contiones extraordinarias, quas nunc in regia, nunc aliis atque aliis locis habebat.

From these sacred labors, by the favor of King Henry the Seventh of that name, he was recalled to London, and made Dean at Saint Paul’s, that he might preside over the college whose letters he so loved. Now the dignity of that name among the English is first, although there are others more opulent in revenue. This most excellent man, as if called to the work, not to the dignity, repaired the collapsed discipline of his college, and—what was there new—he instituted preaching on every feast day in his own temple, besides extraordinary sermons, which now in the royal court, now in other and yet other places he held.

Porro in suo templo non sumebat sibi carptim argumentum ex Evangelio aut ex epistolis Apostolicis, sed unum aliquod argumentum proponebat, quod diversis contionibus ad finem usque prosequebatur: puta Evangelium Matthaei, symbolum fidei, precationem Dominicam. Et habebat auditorium frequens, in quo plerosque primores suae civitatis et aulae regiae.

Moreover, in his own church he did not take
for himself a piecemeal subject from the Gospel or from the Apostolic Epistles, but one
single subject he would set forth, which through diverse sermons to the very end
he pursued: for example, the Gospel of Matthew, the symbol of faith, the
Lord’s Prayer. And he had a crowded audience, in which most of the foremost men of his
city and of the royal court.

Mensam Decani, quae antea sub hospitalitatis titulo luxui servierat, contraxit ad frugalitatem. Nam cum et ante annos aliquot in totum abstinuisset a cena, caruit vespertinis convivis. Porro cum serius pranderet, etiam tum minus habuit multos: sed hoc pauciores, quod et frugalis esset apparatus, tametsi nitidus, et brevis accubitus, denique sermones qui non delectarent nisi doctos ac bonos.

He contracted the Dean’s table, which formerly under the title of hospitality had served luxury, to frugality. For since also some years before he had entirely abstained from supper, he lacked evening guests. Moreover, since he took his luncheon later, even then he had fewer; but all the fewer for this reason: that both the apparatus was frugal, although neat, and the reclining brief, and, finally, the conversations did not delight any save the learned and the good.

Consecrata mensa mox puer aliquis clara voce distincte pronuntiabat caput aliquod ex epistolis Pauli aut proverbiis Salomonis. Ex eo delectum locum ipse fere repetebat, ac sermonis occasionem sumebat, sciscitans ab eruditis aut ingeniosis etiam idiotis, quid hoc aut illud dictum sibi vellet. Atque ita sermonem temperabat, ut quanquam et pius et gravis, tamen nihil haberet taedii aut supercilii.

Once the table had been consecrated, soon some boy, with a clear voice, would distinctly pronounce some chapter from the epistles of Paul or the proverbs of Solomon. From that he himself generally repeated the selected passage, and took occasion for a discourse, inquiring of the erudite, or of the ingenious even if idiots (i.e., unlearned), what this or that saying meant. And thus he tempered the discourse, so that although both pious and grave, nevertheless it had nothing of tedium or superciliousness.

Rursus sub convivii finem, cum iam utcunque satisfactum esset non voluptati sed necessitati, aliud argumentum iniecit: atque ita convivas dimisit et animo et corpore refectos, ut meliores discederent quam venerant, et stomachum minime cibis onustum referrent.

Again, toward the end of the banquet, when now somehow satisfaction had been rendered not to pleasure but to necessity, he injected another subject: and thus he dismissed the guests refreshed both in mind and body, so that they departed better than they had come, and carried back a stomach by no means laden with foods.

Impense delectabatur amicorum colloquiis, quae saepe differebat in multam noctem: sed omnis illius sermo aut de literis erat aut de Christo. Si grati confabulonis non erat copia (nec enim quibuslibet delectabatur), puer aliquis e sacris libris aliquid pronuntiabat. Me nonnunquam et peregrinationis comitem ascivit, nihil erat illic eo festivius: sed semper libellus erat itineris comes, nec alii sermones quam de Christo.

He was earnestly delighted by the colloquies of friends, which he often deferred late into the night: but all his discourse was either about letters or about Christ. If there was not the supply of a pleasing conversationalist (for he did not take delight in just anyone), some boy would recite something from the sacred books. He sometimes enrolled me also as a companion of travel, there was nothing there more delightful than he: but always a little book was the companion of the journey, and no other talks than about Christ.

Impatiens erat omnium sordium, adeo ut nec sermonem ferret soloecum ac barbarie spurcum. Quicquid erat domesticae supellectilis, quicquid apparatus in cibis, quicquid in vestibus, quicquid in libris, nitidum esse volebat, de magnificentia non laborabat. Non nisi pullis vestibus utebatur, cum illic vulgo sacerdotes ac theologi vestiantur purpura.

He was impatient of every sordidness, so much that he would not even bear speech foul with solecism and barbarism. Whatever there was of domestic furnishings, whatever apparatus in
food, whatever in garments, whatever in books, he wanted to be polished; he did not labor about magnificence. He used only dark-hued garments, whereas there priests and theologians commonly are vested in purple.

Summa vestis semper erat lanea ac simplex; si frigus hoc postulabat, interulis pelliciis se muniebat.

The outer garment was always woolen and simple; if the cold demanded this, he protected himself with fur under-tunics.

Quicquid e sacerdotiis redibat, id in usus domesticos oeconomo suo dispensandum reliquit: quod erat patrimonii (erat autem amplissimum) ipse in pios usus distribuebat. Nam patre defuncto, cum ingentem pecuniae vim accepisset ex hereditate, ne servata gigneret in eo aliquid morbi, novam scholam exstruxit in coemeterio Sancti Pauli, puero Iesu sacram, opere magnifico. Adiecit aedes magnificas, in quibus agerent duo ludi magistri, quibus amplum salarium designavit, quo gratuito docerent, sed sic uti schola non capiat nisi certum numerum.

Whatever returned from the priesthoods, that he left to his own oeconomus to be dispensed for domestic uses; what belonged to the patrimony (and it was most ample) he himself distributed to pious uses. For, his father having died, when he had received a huge force of money from the inheritance, lest, being kept, it should engender in him something of disease, he constructed a new school in the cemetery of Saint Paul, sacred to the boy Jesus, a magnificent work. He added magnificent buildings, in which two schoolmasters might conduct their work, to whom he designated a ample salary, whereby they might teach gratuitously, but in such a way that the school should admit only a fixed number.

Eam distinxit in partes quatuor. Primus ingressus habet ceu catechumenos. Nullus autem admittitur nisi qui iam norit et legere et scribere.

He distinguished it into four parts. The first ingress contains, as it were, catechumens. But no one is admitted unless he already knows both to read and to write.

Secunda pars habet eos quos hypodidascalus instituit. Tertia quos superior erudit. Alteram ab altera dirimit velum quoddam quod adducitur ac diducitur cum libet.

The second part has those whom the hypodidascalus instructs. The third, those whom the superior educates. The one is separated from the other by a certain veil, which is drawn and drawn apart whenever it is desired.

Supra cathedram praeceptoris sedet puer Iesus singulari opere, docentis gestu, quem totus grex adiens scholam ac relinquens hymno salutat. Et imminet Patris facies dicentis 'Ipsum audite': nam haec verba me auctore ascripsit. In postremo sacellum est, in quo licet rem divinam facere.

Above the preceptor’s cathedra sits the boy Jesus, in a singular work, with the gesture of one teaching, whom the whole flock, as they approach the school and as they leave it, salutes with a hymn. And the face of the Father looms above, saying 'Hear him': for he inscribed these words at my authority. At the back there is a little chapel, in which it is permitted to perform the divine service.

Tota schola nullos habet angulos aut secessus, adeo ut nec solarium sit ullum aut cubiculum. Pueris singulis suus locus in gradibus paulatim ascendentibus, distinctis spatiis. Quaeque classis habet sedecim, et qui in sua classe praecellit, sellulam habet ceteris paululo eminentiorem.

The whole school has no angles or recesses,
to such a degree that there is no solarium at all nor any cubicle. For each boy his own
place on steps gradually ascending, with distinct spaces. Each
class has sixteen, and he who excels in his own class has a little seat
a little higher than the rest.

Nec quosvis admittunt temere, sed delectus fit indolis et ingeniorum.

Nor do they admit just anyone rashly, but a selection is made of disposition and talents.

Vidit illud vir perspicacissimus, in hoc esse praecipuam reipublicae spem, si prima aetas bonis rationibus institueretur. Ea res cum constet immensa pecunia, tamen nullum in huius consortium admisit. Quidam legerat in eam structuram centum libras monetae Britannicae: ubi sensit Coletus hac gratia sibi nescio quid iuris vindicare laicos, permissu episcopi sui eam pecuniam contulit in sacras vestes templi.

A most perspicacious man saw that in this was the principal hope of the republic, if the first age were instituted by good methods. Although this affair costs immense money, nevertheless he admitted no one into a consortium of it. A certain man had bequeathed for that structure 100 pounds of British money: when Colet perceived that by this favor the laity were claiming I know not what right for themselves, with the permission of his bishop he applied that money to the sacred vestments of the temple.

Reditibus totique negotio praefecit non sacerdotes, non episcopum aut capitulum, ut vocant, non magnates: sed cives aliquot coniugatos, probatae famae. Roganti causam ait nihil quidem esse certi in rebus humanis, sed tamen in his se minimum invenire corruptelae.

He put in charge of the revenues and the whole business not priests, not the bishop or the chapter, as they call it, not magnates: but several married citizens, of approved reputation. To one asking the reason he said that indeed nothing is certain in human affairs, yet nevertheless among these he found the least corruption.

Atque ut hoc opus nemo non probavit, ita multi demirabantur cur magnificentissimas aedes exstrueret intra pomeria monasterii Carthusiensium, quod non procul abest a regia quae dicitur Richemonda. Aiebat se parare sedem illam suae senectuti, cum iam impar laboribus aut morbo fractus cogeretur se submovere ab hominum consortio. Illic erat animus philosophari cum duobus aut tribus amiculis eximiis, inter quos me solitus est numerare; sed mors antevertit.

And just as no one failed to approve this work, so many marveled greatly why he should erect most magnificent buildings within the precincts of the monastery of the Carthusians,
which is not far from the royal palace which is called Richmond. He said that he was preparing that seat for his old age, when, already unequal to labors or broken by illness,
he would be compelled to withdraw himself from the fellowship of men. There he intended to philosophize with two or three most select friends, among whom he was wont to number me;
but death forestalled him.

Nam cum ante paucos annos correptus esset sudore pestilenti, qui morbus peculiariter infestat Britanniam, et ab eodem tertio repetitus, utcunque tamen revixit; sed ex morbi reliquiis contracta est viscerum tabes, qua periit. Sepultus est ad australe chori latus in suo templo humili sepulchro, quod in eum usum iam ante annos aliquot delegerat, inscriptione addita 'IOAN. COL.'

For when a few years before he had been seized by the pestilential sweat,
which disease peculiarly infests Britain, and, attacked by the same a third
time, he nevertheless somehow revived; but from the remnants of the disease a
wasting of the viscera (tabes) was contracted, by which he perished. He was buried at the southern side of the choir in his own
church in a humble sepulcher, which for that use he had already chosen some years before,
with the inscription added 'IOAN. COL.'

Finem faciam, mi Iona, si pauca commemoraro primum de ipsius natura, deinde de opinionibus paradoxis, postremo de procellis quibus explorata est hominis ingenua pietas. Cuius minimam portionem debebat naturae suae; siquidem animo praeditus erat insigniter excelso et omnis iniuriae impatientissimo, ad luxum ac somnum mire propensus, ad iocos ac facetias supra modum proclivis. Haec ipse mihi fassus est, nec omnino tutus a morbo philargyriae.

I will make an end, my Iona, if I shall recall a few things first about his nature, then about his paradoxical opinions, and finally about the storms by which the man’s ingenuous piety was tested. Of which he owed only the smallest portion to his nature; since he was endowed with a mind remarkably exalted and most impatient of every injury, marvelously prone to luxury and sleep, and beyond measure inclined to jests and facetiae. These things he himself confessed to me, nor was he altogether safe from the disease of philargyria.

Adversus haec ita pugnavit philosophia sacrisque studiis, vigiliis, ieiuniis, ac precibus, ut totum vitae cursum ab huius seculi inquinamentis purum peregerit. Opes in pios usus dissipavit. Adversus animi celsitudinem ratione pugnavit, adeo ut a puero quoque moneri se pateretur.

Against these things he fought in such a way by philosophy and sacred studies,
vigils, fasts, and prayers, that he completed the whole course of life pure from the pollutions of this age.
He dissipated his resources upon pious uses. Against
the loftiness of mind he fought by reason, to such a degree that he even allowed himself to be admonished by a boy.

Somnum ac luxum abstinentia cenae perpetua, iugi sobrietate, indefessis laboribus studiorum sanctisque colloquiis profligavit: et tamen si quando sese obtulisset occasio vel iocandi apud facetos vel colloquendi cum feminis vel accumbendi in opiparis conviviis, vidisses aliqua naturae vestigia. Et ob id fere a laicorum consuetudine abstinuit, sed praecipue a conviviis: ad quae si quando cogebatur, me aut mei similem adhibebat, quo Latinis fabulis declinaret profana colloquia. Atque interim sumpto ex uno tantum genere cibi pusillo, uno aut altero cerevisiae haustu contentus erat, a vino temperans, quo tamen delectabatur eleganti, sed temperatissime utens.

He routed sleep and luxury by perpetual abstinence from supper, by continual sobriety, by indefatigable labors of studies and by holy conversations: and yet, if ever there offered itself an occasion either of joking among the witty or of conversing with women or of reclining at sumptuous banquets, you would have seen certain vestiges of nature. And on account of this he for the most part abstained from the company of laypeople, but especially from banquets: to which, if ever he was compelled, he would bring me, or someone like me, along, in order that with Latin fables he might deflect profane conversations. And meanwhile, taking only a small portion from one single kind of food, he was content with one or two draughts of beer, tempering himself from wine, which, however, he enjoyed when it was elegant, yet using it most temperately.

Ita se sibi semper habens suspectum, cavebat ab omnibus quibus esse posset offendiculo cuiquam; nec enim ignorabat omnium oculos in se coniectos.

Thus, ever holding himself suspect to himself, he was on guard against all things by which he might be an offense to anyone; for he did not ignore that the eyes of all were cast upon him.

Nunquam vidi ingenium felicius, atque ob id similibus ingeniis unice delectabatur: sed ad haec se malebat demittere quae praepararent ad immortalitatem vitae futurae. Nulla in re non philosophabatur, si quando se laxabat fabulis amoenioribus. In pueris ac puellis delectabat naturae puritas ac simplicitas, ad cuius imitationem suos vocat Christus, angelis eos solitus comparare.

I never saw a more felicitous genius, and on account of this he was uniquely delighted by similar geniuses: but he preferred to bend himself to those things which would prepare for the immortality of the life to come. He did not fail to philosophize in any matter, whenever he relaxed with more agreeable tales. In boys and girls the purity and simplicity of nature delighted him, to the imitation of which Christ calls his own, being accustomed to compare them to angels.

Iam ut alteram exsolvam partem, opinionibus a vulgo multum dissidebat, sed mira prudentia hac in re sese attemperabat aliis, ne quos offenderet, aut ne quid labis in famam contraheret; non ignarus quam iniqua sint hominum iudicia, quamque prona in malum credulitas, quantoque facilius sit maledicis linguis contaminare famam hominis quam benedicis sarcire. Inter amicos ac doctos liberrime profitebatur quid sentiret. Scotistas, quibus hominum vulgus ceu peculiare tribuit acumen, aiebat sibi videri stupidos et hebetes et quidvis potius quam ingeniosos; nam argutari circa alienas sententias ac verba, nunc hoc arrodere, nunc illud, et omnia minutatim dissecare, ingenii esse sterilis et inopis.

Now, to discharge the other part, he differed greatly from the crowd in opinions, but with marvelous prudence in this matter he tempered himself to others, lest he offend anyone, or lest he contract any stain upon his fame; not unaware how inequitable are the judgments of men, and how prone credulity is toward evil, and how much more easily it is for slanderous tongues to contaminate a man’s fame than for well-speaking ones to mend it. Among friends and the learned he most freely professed what he thought. The Scotists, to whom the common herd of men, as it were, grants a peculiar acumen, he said seemed to him stupid and dull, and anything rather than ingenious; for to wrangle around others’ opinions and words, now to gnaw at this, now that, and to dissect everything into minute bits, is of a wit barren and destitute.

Thomae tamen, nescio qua de causa iniquior erat quam Scoto. Etenim cum hunc apud illum aliquando laudarem ut inter recentiores non aspernandum, quod et sacras literas et auctores veteres videretur evolvisse (cuius rei suspicionem mihi fecerat Catena quae vocatur Aurea) et aliquid haberet in scriptis affectuum, semel atque iterum dissimulavit obticescens. Verum ubi rursus in alio colloquio inculcarem eadem vehementius, obtuitus est me, velut observans serione haec dicerem necne; cum animadverteret me ex animo loqui, tanquam afflatus spiritu quodam, 'Quid tu' inquit, 'mihi praedicas istum, qui nisi habuisset multum arrogantiae, non tanta temeritate tantoque supercilio definisset omnia?

He was, however, I know not for what reason, more iniquitous toward Thomas than toward Scotus. For when I once praised this man in his presence as not to be spurned among the more recent writers, because he seemed to have run through both the sacred letters and the ancient authors (a suspicion of which fact the Chain that is called Golden had given me), and to have something in his writings of the affections, he dissembled, falling silent, once and again. But when again in another conversation I pressed the same points more vehemently, he fixed his gaze on me, as if observing whether I was saying these things in earnest or not; when he noticed that I was speaking from the heart, as if inspired by a certain spirit, “Why,” says he, “are you preaching that fellow to me, who, unless he had possessed much arrogance, would not have defined everything with such temerity and such superciliousness?”

et nisi habuisset aliquid spiritus mundani, non ita totam Christi doctrinam sua profana philosophia contaminasset.' Admiratus sum hominis impetum, coepique diligentius eius viri scripta evolvere. Quid verbis est opus? omnino decessit aliquid meae de illo existimationi.

and if he had not had some worldly spirit, he would not thus have contaminated the whole doctrine of Christ with his own profane philosophy.' I was astonished at the man’s impetuosity, and I began to peruse more diligently that man’s writings. What need is there of words? altogether something withdrew from my estimation of him.

Cum nemo magis faveret Christianae pietati, tamen erga monasteria, quae nunc falso nomine pleraque sic vocantur, minimum habebat affectus; eisque aut nihil aut quam minimum largiebatur, ac ne moriens quidem aliquid illis decidit: non quod invisos haberet ordines, sed quod homines suae professioni non respondebant. Nam ipsi in votis erat se prorsus ab hoc mundo extricare, sicubi repperisset sodalitium vere coniuratum in vitam Evangelicam. Atque id negotii mihi delegarat Italiam adituro, narrans sese apud Italos comperisse quosdam monachos vere prudentes ac pios.

Although no one favored Christian piety more, yet toward the monasteries, which now for the most part are so called under a false name, he had the least affection; and to them he either bestowed nothing or as little as possible, and not even when dying did anything fall to them: not because he held the orders as hated, but because the men did not answer to their own profession. For it was among his vows to extricate himself entirely from this world, if anywhere he had found a sodality truly sworn to the Evangelical life. And he had delegated that business to me as I was about to go to Italy, telling that among the Italians he had discovered certain monks truly prudent and pious.

Nec enim ille iudicabat esse religionem quam vulgus iudicat, cum sit aliquoties ingenii penuria. Laudabat et Germanos aliquot, apud quos residerent etiamnum priscae religionis vestigia. Dictitare solebat se nusquam reperire minus corruptos mores quam inter coniugatos, quod hos affectus naturae, cura liberorum ac res familiaris ita veluti cancellis quibusdam distringerent, ut non possent in omne flagitii genus prolabi.

For he did not judge that to be religion which the vulgar judges, since at times it is a penury of ingenuity. He also praised certain Germans, among whom there still resided vestiges of pristine religion. He used to keep saying that he nowhere found morals less corrupted than among the married, because the affections of nature, the care of children, and the domestic estate constrained them, as it were, with certain lattices, so that they could not slip into every kind of flagitiousness.

Nulli mortalium generi erat infensior quam episcopis qui pro pastoribus lupos agerent; nec ullos magis exsecrabatur, quod cultu sacro, caerimoniis, benedictionibus ac veniolis sese venditarent populo, cum toto pectore servirent mundo, hoc est gloriae et quaestui. E Dionysio ceterisque priscis theologis quaedam hauserat, quibus non ita favebat, ut usquam contenderet adversus decreta ecclesiastica, sed tamen ut minus esset iniquus iis qui non probarent sic passim in templis adorari imagines pictas, ligneas, saxeas, aereas, aureas, argenteas: item iis qui dubitarent an sacerdos insigniter ac palam improbus conficeret aliquid sacramentali functione; haudquaquam favens istorum errori, sed indignans iis qui vita palam et undique contaminata praeberent causam huiusmodi suspicionis.

He was to no race of mortals more hostile than to bishops who, instead of shepherds, played the wolves; nor did he execrate any more than those who, by sacred attire, ceremonies, benedictions, and little indulgences, peddled themselves to the people, while with their whole breast they served the world—that is, glory and gain. From Dionysius and the other ancient theologians he had drawn certain points, which he did not so favor as to contend anywhere against ecclesiastical decrees, but yet so as to be less unfair to those who did not approve that images should thus everywhere in the temples be adored—painted, wooden, stone, brazen, golden, silver: likewise to those who would doubt whether a priest conspicuously and openly wicked would effect anything by the sacramental function; by no means favoring the error of such men, but indignant at those who, with a life openly and on every side contaminated, supplied the cause of suspicion of this sort.

Collegia quae multo magnificoque sumptu sunt apud Anglos instituta, dicebat officere bonis studiis, nec aliud esse quam invitabula otiosorum: neque scholis publicis perinde multum tribuebat, quod ambitio profitendi et quaestus omnia vitians corrumperet sinceritatem omnium disciplinarum.

Colleges which at much and magnificent expense are instituted among the English, he said, obstruct good studies, and are nothing other than lures of the idle: nor did he in like manner attribute much to the public schools, because the ambition of professing and profit, vitiating all things, corrupted the sincerity of all the disciplines.

Ut confessionem secretam vehementer probabat, negans se ulla ex re capere tantundem consolationis ac boni spiritus, ita anxiam ac subinde repetitam vehementer damnabat. Cum apud Anglos mos sit ut sacerdotes fere cotidie faciant rem divinam, ille tamen contentus erat diebus Dominicis ac festis sacrificare, aut certe pauculis diebus extra hos: sive quod sacris studiis, quibus se parabat ad contionandum, et ecclesiae suae negotiis distineretur; sive quod comperiret se maiore cum affectu sacrificare si id ex intervallo faceret. Haudquaquam tamen improbabat illorum institutum, quibus placeret cotidie adire mensam Dominicam.

As he strongly approved secret confession, saying that from no other thing did he take as much consolation and good spirit, so he strongly condemned an anxious and again-and-again repeated one. Since among the English the custom is that priests almost daily perform the divine rite, he, however, was content to sacrifice on Sundays and feast days, or at least on a few days besides these: whether because he was detained by sacred studies, by which he prepared himself for preaching, and by the business of his church; or because he found that he sacrificed with greater affect if he did it at an interval. By no means, however, did he disapprove the institution of those to whom it was pleasing to approach the Lord’s table daily.

Cum esset ipse doctissimus, tamen anxiam hanc et laboriosam sapientiam non probabat, quae ex omnium disciplinarum cognitione et ex omnium auctorum lectione velut ansis omnibus absolvitur: dictitans ita deteri nativam illam ingenii sanitatem et sinceritatem, hominesque reddi minus sanos et ad Christianam innocentiam puramque ac simplicem caritatem minus idoneos. Plurimum tribuebat epistolis apostolicis, sed ita suspiciebat admirabilem illam Christi maiestatem, ut ad hanc quodammodo sordescerent apostolorum scripta. Omnia fere Christi dicta miro ingenio revocarat ad terniones, unde et librum instituerat scribere.

While he himself was most learned, nevertheless he did not approve this anxious and laborious wisdom, which, from the knowledge of all disciplines and the reading of all authors, is, as it were, finished off with all handles: repeatedly saying that in this way that native soundness and sincerity of intellect are made worse, and that men are rendered less sound and less fit for Christian innocence and for pure and simple charity. He attributed very much to the apostolic epistles, but he so regarded with awe that admirable majesty of Christ, that in comparison to this the writings of the apostles were in some measure made sordid. He had, with wondrous ingenuity, recalled almost all the sayings of Christ to ternions, whence he had also set about to write a book.

Quod sacerdotes etiam occupati cotidie tam prolixas preces exhaurire cogerentur, etiam domi atque in itinere, vehementer admirabatur; cultum autem ecclesiasticum magnifice fieri valde probabat.

He marveled greatly that priests, even when occupied, should be compelled daily
to exhaust such prolix prayers, even at home and on the road;
but he strongly approved that ecclesiastical worship be performed magnificently.

Innumera sunt hodie in publicis scholis receptissima a quibus ille plurimum dissentiebat, de quibus inter amiculos solebat aliquando conferre; apud alios dissimulabat, ne geminum caperet incommodum, ut et nihil proficeret nisi in peius, et existimationis suae iacturam faceret. Nullus erat liber tam haereticus quem ille non attente evolveret, dicens se plus aliquotiens ex illis capere fructus quam ex horum libris qui sic omnia definiunt, ut frequenter adulentur coryphaeis, nonnunquam et sibi ipsis. Recte loquendi copiam non ferebat peti e praeceptionibus grammaticorum, quas asseverabat officere ad bene dicendum, nec id contingere nisi evolvendis optimis auctoribus; sed huius opinionis ipse poenas dedit.

Innumerable things are today most received in the public schools, with which he dissented very much, about which among his little friends he used sometimes to confer; among others he dissimulated, lest he should incur a twin inconvenience, both that he would make no progress except toward the worse, and that he would make a loss of his reputation. There was no book so heretical that he did not attentively read through it, saying that he at times took more fruit from those than from the books of these men who define everything thus, so that they frequently flatter the coryphaei, sometimes even themselves. He did not endure that fluency in speaking rightly be sought from the precepts of the grammarians, which he asserted to hinder speaking well, and that this does not come to pass except by reading through the best authors; but for this opinion he himself paid the penalty.

Cum enim esset et natura et eruditione facundus, ac dicenti mira suppeteret orationis ubertas, tamen scribens subinde labebatur in his quae solent notare critici. Atque hac, ni fallor, gratia a libris scribendis abstinebat, atque utinam non abstinuisset: nam huius viri cogitationes quacunque etiam lingua proditas optarim.

Since indeed he was eloquent both by nature
and by erudition, and when speaking a wondrous abundance of oration was at hand for him, yet
in writing he would from time to time slip into those things which critics are wont to mark. And for this reason, if I err not,
he refrained from writing books; and would that he had not
refrained: for I would wish this man’s cogitations, brought forth even in whatever language,
to be had.

Iam ne quid defuisse putetur absolutae Coleti pietati, tempestates quibus agitatus est accipe. Nunquam illi bene convenerat cum suo Episcopo, de cuius moribus ne quid dicam, superstitiosus atque invictus erat Scotista, et hoc nomine sibi semideus videbatur: quo quidem ex genere cum aliquot noverim quos nolim improbos appellare, nullum tamen adhuc vidi quem mea quidem sententia possis vere pureque dicere Christianum. Nec admodum gratus erat plerisque sui collegii, quod tenacior esset disciplinae regularis, ac subinde quiritabantur se pro monachis haberi; quanquam hoc collegium olim fuit, et in vetustis syngraphis vocatur orientale monasterium. *

Now, lest anything be thought to have been lacking to Colet’s consummate piety, take in the tempests by which
he was tossed. He never got along well with his own Bishop—of whose morals, not to say anything—he was a
superstitious and invincible Scotist, and by this title he seemed to himself a demigod: of which sort, although I know
several whom I would not wish to call depraved, yet I have thus far seen none whom, in my judgment, you could truly
and purely call Christian. Nor was he very agreeable to most of his college, because he was more tenacious of the
regular discipline, and from time to time they kept complaining that they were being treated as monks; although this
college once was one, and in the ancient syngraphs it is called the Oriental Monastery. *

Sed cum iam odium senis Episcopi -- erat enim non minor annis octoginta -- atrocius esset quam ut premi posset, ascitis duobus episcopis aeque cordatis nec minus virulentis, incipit Coleto negotium facessere, non alio telo quam quo solent isti, si quando cui exitium moliuntur. Defert eum apud archiepiscopum Cantuariensem, articulis aliquot notatis, quos ex illius contionibus decerpserat. Quorum unus erat quod docuisset non adorandas imagines: alter quod sustulisset a Paulo laudatam hospitalitatem, qui enarrans illud ex Evangelio, 'Pasce, pasce, pasce oves meas,' cum in prioribus duobus cum reliquis interpretibus consentiret, pasce exemplis vitae, pasce sermone doctrinae, in tertio dissensisset, negans convenire ut apostoli, qui tum erant pauperes, iuberentur oves suas pascere subsidio temporali, et huius loco aliud quiddam substituisset: tertium, quod cum in contione dixisset quosdam de charta contionari (id quod multi frigide faciunt in Anglia), oblique taxasset Episcopum, qui ob senium solitus sit facere.

But when now the hatred of the old Bishop — for he was not less than eighty years in age —
was more savage than that it could be kept down, having called in two bishops equally stout-hearted
and no less virulent, he begins to make trouble for Colet, with no other weapon than
that which those fellows are wont to use, whenever they are plotting someone’s ruin. He denounces him before the
archbishop of Canterbury, with several articles noted, which he had plucked from his
sermons. One of these was that he had taught that images were not to be adored; another, that he had done away with the hospitality praised by Paul, who,
expounding that from the Gospel, “Feed, feed, feed my sheep,” while in the first two he agreed with the other
interpreters — feed by examples of life, feed by the word of doctrine — in the third he had dissented, denying that it was fitting that the
apostles, who then were poor, be ordered to feed their sheep by temporal subsidy, and in place of this he had substituted something else; a third, that when in
a sermon he had said that certain persons preach from a paper (which many do coldly
in England), he had obliquely censured the Bishop, who by reason of old age is wont to do so.

Archiepiscopus, cui Coleti dotes erant egregie cognitae, patrocinium innocentis suscepit, e iudice factus patronus, cum ipse Coletus ad haec aliaque stultiora respondere dedignaretur.

The Archbishop, to whom Colet’s endowments were outstandingly well known, took up the patronage of the innocent—made from judge into patron—since Colet himself disdained to respond to these and other, more foolish, matters.

Non conquievit tamen senis odium. Tentavit aulam regiam in Coletum concitare, atque in primis Regem ipsum, iam aliud telum nactus, quod publice dixisset in contione pacem iniquam praeferendam bello aequissimo. Id enim temporis adornabantur bellum in Gallos, et huius fabulae non minimam partem Minoritae duo agebant; quorum alter fax belli mitram meruit, alter bonis lateribus vociferabatur in contionibus in poetas: sic enim designabat Coletum, cum is a poeticis numeris esset alienissimus, alioqui non imperitus musices.

Nevertheless the old man’s hatred did not rest. He tried to incite the royal court against Colet, and especially the King himself, now having gotten another weapon, namely that he had said publicly in a sermon that an iniquitous peace is to be preferred to a most just war. For at that time a war against the Gauls was being prepared, and two Minorites were playing no small part in this drama; of whom the one, a torch of war, merited the miter, the other with sturdy lungs vociferated in sermons against “poets”: thus he designated Colet, though he was most alien from poetic numbers (meters), otherwise not unskilled in music.

Hic rex, egregius iuvenis, dedit evidens specimen ingenii sui regno dignissimi, privatim hortans Coletum, pergeret sua doctrina libere succurrere moribus eius seculi corruptissimis, neque subduceret lucem suam temporibus tenebricosissimis: se non ignorare quid in illum stimularet episcopos illos, neque nescire quantum ipse fructus attulisset genti Britannicae sua vita sacraque doctrina. Addebat sese sic cohibiturum illorum conatus, ut aliis liqueret non impune fore si qui Coletum impeterent. Hic Coletus egit quidem gratias pro animo regio, ceterum quod obtulit deprecatus est, negans se velle ut cuiquam peius esset sua causa; se potius cessurum munus quod gerebat.

This king, an excellent young man, gave an evident specimen
of his genius most worthy of a kingdom, privately exhorting Colet to proceed, by his
doctrine, to succor freely the most corrupted morals of that age, and not
to withdraw his light from the most tenebrous times: that he was not ignorant what
was goading those bishops against him, nor unaware how much fruit he himself had brought
to the British nation by his life and sacred doctrine. He added that he would
so restrain their attempts, that it would be clear to others that it would not be with impunity
if any should assail Colet. Here Colet indeed gave thanks for the royal spirit, but he begged off
what he offered, saying he did not wish that it should be worse for anyone on his account; that he would rather
withdraw from the office which he was bearing.

Sed aliquanto post data est illis ansa ut sperarent iam posse confici Coletum. A Pascha parabatur expeditio in Gallos. In die Parasceves Coletus apud Regem et aulicos mire contionatus est de victoria Christi, adhortans Christianos omnes ut sub Regis sui vexillo militarent ac vincerent.

But somewhat later an occasion was given them to hope that they could now dispatch Colet. From Easter an expedition against the Gauls was being prepared. On the day of the Parasceve Colet, in the presence of the King and the courtiers, marvellously delivered an oration about the victory of Christ, exhorting all Christians to soldier under the banner of their King and to conquer.

Etenim qui odio, qui ambitione mali pugnarent cum malis seque vicissim trucidarent, non sub Christi sed sub diaboli signis militare: simulque ostendit quam res esset ardua Christianam obire mortem, quam pauci bellum susciperent non odio aut cupiditate vitiati: quam vix consisteret eundem habere fraternam caritatem, sine qua nemo visurus esset Deum, et ferrum in fratris viscera demergere. Addidit, ut Christum Principem suum imitarentur potius quam Iulios et Alexandros. Multaque alia tum declamavit in hanc sententiam sic ut Rex nonnihil metueret ne haec contio adimeret animos militibus quos educebat.

For indeed those who fought out of hatred, those out of ambition, being evil, with the wicked and in turn butchered one another, were not soldiering under the standards of Christ but under the banners of the Devil:
and at the same time he showed how arduous a matter it was to undergo a Christian death, how few would undertake war not vitiated by hatred or cupidity:
how scarcely consistent it was to have fraternal charity, without which no one will see God, and to plunge steel into a brother’s vitals.
He added that they should imitate Christ their Prince rather than the Julii and the Alexanders.
And many other things he then declaimed to this effect, such that the King somewhat feared lest this oration take away the courage of the soldiers whom he was leading out.

Huc velut ad bubonem omnes convolant mali, sperantes fore ut Regis animus iam in illum posset exacerbari. Accersitus est Coletus iussu Regis. Venit, pransus est in monasterio Franciscanorum quod adhaeret regiae Grienwikensi.

Hither, as to an owl, all the wicked flock together,
hoping that it would come about that the King’s mind could now be exasperated against him. Colet was summoned by order of the King.
He came; he lunched in the monastery of the Franciscans which adjoins the royal palace at Greenwich.

Rex ubi sensit, descendit in hortum monasterii, et Coleto prodeunte dimisit suos omnes. Ubi solus esset cum solo, iussit ut tecto capite familiariter colloqueretur, atque ita exorsus est iuvenis humanissimus: 'Ne quid temere suspiceris, Decane. Non huc accersivi te, quo turbem tuos sanctissimos labores, quibus unice faveo, sed ut exonerem conscientiam meam scrupulis aliquot, tuoque consilio rectius satisfaciam officio meo.' Verum ne totum colloquium repetam (quod fere sesquihoram productum est), interim in aula ferociebat Bricotus, existimans periclitari Coletum cum per omnia conveniret illi cum Regi; nisi quod Rex optabat, ut quod Coletus vere dixisset, diceret aliquando explanatius ob rudes milites, qui secus interpretarentur quam ipse dixisset, videlicet Christianis nullum esse bellum iustum.

The King, when he perceived this, went down into the garden of the monastery, and with Colet coming forward he dismissed all his attendants. When he was alone with him alone, he ordered that he converse familiarly with covered head, and thus the most courteous young man began: “Do not suspect anything rashly, Dean. I did not summon you here to disturb your most holy labors, which I singularly favor, but to exonerate my conscience of certain scruples, and by your counsel more rightly to satisfy my office.” But not to repeat the whole colloquy (which was prolonged for almost an hour and a half), meanwhile in the hall Bricotus was raging, supposing that Colet was in peril, since he agreed with the King in all respects; save that the King desired that what Colet had truly said he would sometimes say more explanatorily, on account of the untrained soldiers, who interpreted otherwise than he had said, namely, that for Christians no war is just.

Coletus pro sua prudentia proque singulari animi moderatione non solum animo regio satisfecit, verum etiam auxit gratiam pristinam. Ubi reditum est in regiam, Rex dimissurus Coletum allato poculo praebibit, et complexus hominem humanissime omniaque pollicitus quae sint ab amantissimo Rege exspectanda, dimisit. Iam aulica turba circumstans exspectabat exitum eius colloquii.

Colet, by his prudence
and by his singular moderation of spirit, not only satisfied the royal mind, but even
increased the former favor. When there was a return into the royal palace, the King, about to dismiss
Colet, with a cup having been brought, drank to him, and, having embraced the man most humanely and
promising everything which are to be expected from a most loving King, dismissed him. Now the courtly
throng standing around was awaiting the outcome of that colloquy.

Ibi Rex omnibus audientibus 'Suus' inquit 'cuique doctor esto, et suo quisque faveat. Hic est doctor meus'. Ita discesserunt quidam lupi, quod aiunt, hiantes, et praecipue Bricotus; nec ab eo die quisquam est ausus impetere Coletum.

There the King, with everyone listening, said, 'Let each be his own teacher, and let each favor what is his own. This is my teacher'. Thus certain wolves, as they say, departed gaping, and especially Bricotus; nor from that day did anyone dare to assail Colet.

Habes, Iodoce, duos quos aetas nostra tulit, mea sententia vere sincereque Christianos, non tam depictos quam delineatos, quantum passa est epistolaris angustia. Tuum erit ex utroque decerpere quod tibi videbitur ad veram pietatem maxime conducere. Iam si quaeres utrum alteri praeferam, mihi videntur pari laude digni, cum dissimili fuerint conditione.

You have, Iodoce, two whom our age has produced, in my judgment truly and sincerely Christians, not so much painted as delineated, as much as the epistolary narrowness has allowed.
Yours it will be to pluck from each what will seem to you to conduce most to true piety.
Now if you ask whether I prefer one to the other, they seem to me worthy of equal praise, since they have been in dissimilar condition.

Siquidem ut magnum erat Coletum in ea fortuna constanter secutum esse, non quo vocabat natura, sed quo Christus; ita speciosior est laus Vitrarii, quod in eo genere vitae tantum obtinuerit ac praestiterit spiritus Evangelici: perinde quasi piscis in palude vivens nihil trahat de sapore palustri. Sed in Coleto quaedam erant quae testarentur illum hominem esse; in Vitrario nihil unquam vidi quod ullo pacto saperet affectum humanum. Quod si me audies, Iona, non dubitabis hos duos divorum ascribere catalogo; etiamsi nullus unquam Pontifex eos referat in canonem.

For indeed, just as
it was a great thing that Colet, in that fortune, had steadfastly followed, not where nature called,
but where Christ; thus more splendid is the praise of Vitrarius, that in that
kind of life he attained and exhibited so much of the Evangelic spirit:
just as if a fish living in a marsh drew nothing of marshy savor. But
in Colet there were certain things which bore witness that he was a man; in Vitrarius
I never saw anything that in any way savored of human passion. If you heed me,
Iona, you will not hesitate to ascribe these two to the catalogue of the saints; even if
no Pontiff ever inscribes them in the canon.

Felices animae, quibus ego multum debeo, vestris precibus adiuvate luctantem adhuc in huius vitae malis Erasmum, ut in vestrum contubernium remigrem, nusquam postea divellendus.

Happy souls, to whom I owe much, aid with your prayers the Erasmus still wrestling
in the evils of this life, that I may remigrate into your fellowship,
never thereafter to be torn asunder.

Vale, mi Iona. Bene habet si tuo desiderio feci satis; nam argumento scio nequaquam esse satisfactum.

Farewell, my Iona. It is well if I have satisfied your desire; for as to the argument, I know
it has by no means been satisfied.

Ex rure Andrelaco. Id. Iun. Anno M.D.XXI.

From the countryside at Anderlecht. The Ides of June. In the year 1521.

XXV. Colet and His Kinsman

25. Colet and His Kinsman

Solebam illi canere fabulam de Ioanne Coleto, viro perenni hominum memoria digno. Pessime illi conveniebat cum patruo, viro admodum sene ac praefractis moribus. Lis erat non de lana caprina, nec de asini, quod aiunt, umbra, sed de magna summa pecuniarum, ob quantam vel filius bellum indiceret patri.

I used to tell him a tale about John Colet, a man worthy of the perennial memory of men. He got on exceedingly ill with his paternal uncle, a very aged man and of unbending mores. The suit was not about caprine wool, nor about the ass’s, as they say, shadow, but about a great sum of monies, over which even a son would declare war upon his father.

Coletus pransurus apud reverendissimum praesulem Guilhelmum archiepiscopum Cantuariensem iunxit me sibi in cymba. Interea legebat ex Enchiridio meo remedium iracundiae, nec tamen indicabat cur ea legeret. Accubitus ordo forte sic dabat ut Coletus sederet e regione patrui, vultu subtristi, nec loquens nec prandens.

Colet, about to dine at the house of the most reverend prelate William, archbishop of Canterbury, took me along with him into a skiff. Meanwhile he was reading from my Enchiridion a remedy for irascibility, nor did he, however, indicate why he was reading these things. The order of reclining chanced so to arrange that Colet sat opposite his uncle, with a somewhat sad countenance, neither speaking nor eating.

Archiepiscopi vero rara quaedam est hac in re dexteritas, ut curet ne quis parum hilaris sit in convivio, sermones ad omnium affectus attemperans. Per eum itaque iniectus est sermo de collatione aetatum. Hinc orta est inter mutos confabulatio.

But the archbishop has in this matter a certain rare dexterity,
such that he takes care that no one be too little cheerful at the convivial gathering, attuning his discourses to the affections
of all. Through him, then, the topic was introduced about the comparison
of ages. From this there arose a confabulation among the mute.

Denique patruus senum more gloriari coepit, quod tantus natu tantopere polleret viribus. A prandio nescio quid seorsum agitatum est inter illos. Ubi Coletus mecum repetierat cymbam, 'Video,' inquit, 'Erasme, te felicem esse.' Ego admirabar cur hominem infelicissimum diceret felicem.

Finally the paternal uncle, in the manner of old men,
began to glory that, so great in years, he prevailed so greatly in strength. After luncheon
I know not what was discussed apart between them. When Colet had returned to the skiff with me,
‘I see,’ said he, ‘Erasmus, that you are fortunate.’ I marveled why
he called a most unlucky man fortunate.

Ibi denarravit quam atroci animo fuerit in patruum, adeo ut propemodum statuisset omnibus Christiane modestiae repagulis refractis et cognationis affectu contempto manifestum bellum suscipere cum patruo: eaque gratia cepisse meum Enchiridion in manus, ut iracundiae remedium quaereret, et profuisse. Mox ex ea qualicunque confabulatione quae orta est in prandio, utrinque diluta est amarulentia, sic ut mox Archiepiscopo sequestro facile res omnis inter eos composita est.

There he recounted with what atrocious spirit he had been against his paternal uncle, to such a degree that he had well-nigh resolved, with all the barriers of Christian modesty broken and the affection of kinship despised, to undertake open war with his uncle: and for that reason he had taken my Enchiridion into his hands, to seek a remedy for anger, and that it had profited. Soon from that whatever confabulation which arose at lunch, on both sides the bitterness was diluted, so that presently, with the Archbishop as mediator, the whole matter between them was easily composed.

XXVI. Thomas More

26. Thomas More

(Erasmus Roterodamus Clarissimo Equiti Ulricho Hutteno S.D.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam sends greetings to the most illustrious knight Ulrich von Hutten.)

Quod Thomae Mori ingenium sic deamas ac paene dixerim deperis, nimirum scriptis illius inflammatus, quibus, ut vere scribis, nihil esse potest neque doctius neque festivius, istuc, mihi crede, clarissime Huttene, tibi cum multis commune est, cum Moro mutuum etiam. Nam is vicissim adeo scriptorum tuorum genio delectatur, ut ipse tibi propemodum invideam. Haec videlicet est illa Platonis omnium maxime amabilis sapientia, quae longe flagrantiores amores excitat inter mortales quam ullae quamlibet admirabiles corporum formae.

That you so love, and I would almost say are desperately enamored of, the genius of Thomas More—clearly inflamed by his writings, than which, as you truly write, nothing can be either more learned or more witty—believe me, most illustrious Hutten, this is something you have in common with many, and it is mutual with More as well. For he in turn is so delighted with the genius of your writings that I myself almost envy you. This, to wit, is that wisdom of Plato, most lovable of all, which excites among mortals far more flaming loves than any forms of bodies, however admirable.

Non cernitur illa quidem oculis corporeis, sed et animo sui sunt oculi; per hos fit aliquoties ut ardentissima caritate conglutinentur, inter quos nec colloquium nec mutuus conspectus intercessit. Et quemadmodum vulgo fit ut incertis de causis alia forma alios rapiat, ita videtur et ingeniorum esse tacita quaedam cognatio, quae facit ut certis ingeniis impense delectemur, ceteris non item.

That, indeed, is not discerned by corporeal eyes, but the mind also has its own eyes; through these it sometimes comes to pass that with most ardent charity persons are cemented together, between whom neither colloquy nor mutual sight has intervened. And just as it commonly happens that, for causes uncertain, one form ravishes some, another others, so there seems to be a certain tacit cognation of geniuses, which makes it that with certain kinds of genius we are intensely delighted, with the rest not so.

Ceterum quod a me flagitas, ut tibi totum Morum velut in tabula depingam, utinam tam absolute praestare queam quam tu vehementer cupis; nam mihi quoque non iniucundum fuerit interim in amici multo omnium suavissimi contemplatione versari. Sed primum non cuiusvis est omnes Mori dotes perspexisse. Deinde haud scio an ille laturus sit a quolibet artifice depingi sese.

But as to what you press from me, that I should depict for you the whole More as if on a tablet, would that I could perform it so absolutely as you vehemently desire; for to me also it would not be un-pleasant meanwhile to dwell in the contemplation of a friend by far the most suave of all. But first, it is not anyone’s lot to have thoroughly perceived all of More’s endowments. Then, I hardly know whether he would be willing to be depicted by just any artificer.

Nec enim arbitror levioris esse operae Morum effingere quam Alexandrum magnum aut Achillem, nec illi quam hic noster immortalitate digniores erant. Tale argumentum prorsus Apellis cuiuspiam manum desiderat: at vereor ne ipse Fulvii Rutubaeque similior sim quam Apellis. Experiar tamen tibi totius hominis simulacrum delineare verius quam exprimere, quantum ex diutina domesticaque consuetudine vel animadvertere licuit vel meminisse.

Nor indeed do I think it to be a labor of lighter effort to portray More than
Alexander the Great or Achilles, nor were those men more worthy of immortality than this our own.
Such a subject absolutely demands the hand of some Apelles;
but I fear that I myself am more similar to a Fulvius or a Rutuba than to an Apelles. I will nevertheless try to delineate for you the simulacrum of the whole man rather than to express it,
so far as from long-continued and domestic consuetude it has been permitted either to observe
or to remember.

Quod si quando fiet ut vos aliqua legatio committat, tum demum intelleges quam non probum artificem ad hoc negotii delegeris, vereorque plane ne me aut invidentiae incuses aut caecutientiae, qui ex tam multis bonis tam pauca vel viderim lippus vel commemorare voluerim invidus.

But if it should ever come to pass that some legation be committed to you, then at last you will understand how not a worthy artificer you have chosen for this business; and I plainly fear lest you accuse me either of invidiousness or of purblindness, I who, out of so many good qualities, so few either I, bleary-eyed, have seen, or, envious, have wished to commemorate.

Atque ut ab ea parte exordiar qua tibi Morus est ignotissimus, statura modoque corporis est infra proceritatem, supra tamen notabilem humilitatem. Verum omnium membrorum tanta est symmetria, ut nihil hic omnino desideres. Cute corporis candida facies magis ad candorem vergit quam ad pallorem; quanquam a rubore procul abest, nisi quod tenuis admodum rubor ubique sublucet.

And, to begin from that part where More is most unknown to you, in stature and in bodily build he is below tallness, yet above notable shortness. But there is such symmetry of all his members that you would desire nothing here at all. His skin being fair, his face inclines more to whiteness than to pallor; although it is far from redness, except that a very slight blush everywhere gleams faintly.

Capilli subnigro flavore, sive mavis, sufflavo nigrore, barba rarior. Oculi subcaesii, maculis quibusdam interspersi; quae species ingenium arguere solet felicissimum, apud Britannos etiam amabilis habetur, cum nostri nigrore magis capiantur. Negant ullum oculorum genus minus infestari vitiis.

Hair with a dark-blond hue, or, if you prefer, a blondish blackness,
the beard rather sparser. The eyes somewhat gray-blue, sprinkled with certain specks; which appearance
is wont to argue a most felicitous nature, and even among the Britons is held lovable,
whereas our people are more captivated by blackness. They say that no kind of eyes is less
infested by defects.

Vultus ingenio respondet, gratam et amicam festivitatem semper prae se ferens, ac nonnihil ad ridentis habitum compositus; atque ut ingenue dicam, appositior ad iucunditatem quam ad gravitatem aut dignitatem, etiamsi longissime abest ab ineptia scurrilitateque. Dexter humerus paulo videtur eminentior laevo, praesertim cum incedit; id quod illi non accidit natura sed assuetudine, qualia permulta nobis solent adhaerere. In reliquo corpore nihil est quod offendat.

The countenance answers to his natural disposition, always bearing before him a pleasing and friendly festivity,
and composed somewhat to the aspect of one smiling; and, to speak ingenuously, more apposite to jocundity than to gravity or dignity,
although he is by a very great distance removed from ineptness and scurrility. The right shoulder seems a little
more prominent than the left, especially when he walks; which befalls him not by nature but by habituation,
such as very many things are wont to adhere to us. In the rest of the body there is nothing that offends.

Manus tantum subrusticae sunt; ita duntaxat, si ad reliquam corporis speciem conferantur. Ipse omnium quae ad corporis cultum attinet semper a puero neglegentissimus fuit, adeo ut nec illa magnopere curare sit solitus quae sola viris esse curanda docet Ovidius. Formae venustas quae fuerit adolescenti nunc etiam licet e culmo conicere: quanquam ipse novi hominem non maiorem annis viginti tribus; nam nunc vix excessit quadragesimum.

Only the hands are somewhat rustic; so
only, at least, if they are compared to the rest of the body’s appearance. He himself of all things that pertain to
the cultivation of the body has always from boyhood been most negligent, to such a degree that he was not
accustomed to care greatly even for those things which Ovid teaches are alone to be cared for by
men. The comeliness of form which he had as an adolescent may even now be conjectured from the stalk
to conjecture: although I myself knew the man not greater than twenty-three years; for
now he has scarcely passed the fortieth.

Valetudo prospera magis quam robusta, sed tamen quae quantislibet laboribus sufficiat honesto cive dignis, nullis aut certe paucissimis morbis obnoxia: spes est vivacem fore, quando patrem habet admodum natu grandem, sed mire virenti vegetaque senectute. Neminem adhuc vidi minus morosum in delectu ciborum. Ad iuvenilem usque aetatem aquae potu delectatus est; id illi patrium fuit.

Health prosperous rather than robust, yet such as suffices for however great labors worthy of an honorable citizen, subject to no diseases or certainly to very few: there is hope he will be long-lived, since he has a father very advanced in age, but wondrously verdant and vigorous in old age. I have seen no one thus far less fastidious in the selection of foods. All the way up to youthful age he took delight in the drinking of water; that was to him from his father.

Verum in hac re ne cui molestus esset, fallebat convivas e stanneo poculo cervisiam bibens, eamque aquae proximam, frequenter aquam meram. Vinum, quoniam illic mos est ad idem poculum vicissim invitare sese, summo ore nonnunquam libabat, ne prorsus abhorrere videretur, simul ut ipse communibus rebus assuesceret. Carnibus bubulis, salsamentis, pane secundario ac vehementer fermentato libentius vescebatur quam his cibis quos vulgus habet in deliciis; alioqui neutiquam abhorrens ab omnibus quae voluptatem innoxiam adferunt etiam corpori.

But in this matter, lest he be troublesome to anyone, he would trick his convives by drinking beer from a pewter cup, and that as near to water as possible, and frequently pure water. As for wine, since there the custom is to invite one another by turns to the same cup, he would sometimes just touch it with his lips, lest he seem utterly to abhor it, and at the same time to accustom himself to common usages. On beef, salt-cured meats, and secondary and strongly leavened bread he fed more willingly than on those foods which the vulgus holds as delicacies; otherwise by no means averse from all the things that bring an innocuous pleasure even to the body.

Lactariorum et eorum foetuum qui nascuntur in arboribus semper fuit appetentior; esum ovorum in deliciis habet. Vox neque grandis est nec admodum exilis, sed quae facile penetret aures, nihil habens canorum ac molle, sed plane loquentis est: nam ad musicam vocalem a natura non videtur esse compositus, etiam si delectatur omni musices genere. Lingua mire explanata articulataque, nihil habens nec praeceps nec haesitans.

He has always been more eager for milk-cap mushrooms and for those offspring that grow on trees; he holds the eating of eggs among his delights. His voice is neither grand nor very slender, but such as easily penetrates the ears, having nothing canorous or soft, but plainly that of one speaking: for by nature he does not seem to be composed for vocal music, even if he delights in every kind of music. His tongue/speech is wondrously clear and articulated, having nothing either precipitous or hesitant.

Cultu simplici delectatur, nec sericis purpurave aut catenis aureis utitur, nisi cum integrum non est ponere. Dictu mirum quam neglegens sit caerimoniarum, quibus hominum vulgus aestimat morum civilitatem. Has ut a nemine exigit, ita aliis non anxie praestat nec in congressibus nec in conviviis; licet harum non sit ignarus, si lubeat uti.

He delights in simple attire, and he does not use silks, purple, or
golden chains, unless it is not proper to set them aside. Strange to say how
negligent he is of ceremonies, by which the common crowd of men estimates the civility of
manners. These, as he exacts them from no one, so he does not anxiously render to others, neither in
assemblies nor at convivial banquets; although he is not ignorant of these, if it should please him to use them.

Sed muliebre putat viroque indignum eiusmodi ineptiis bonam temporis partem absumere.

But he thinks it womanish and unworthy of a man to consume a good part of time on ineptitudes of this sort.

Ab aula principumque familiaritate olim fuit alienior, quod illi semper peculiariter invisa fuerit tyrannis, quemadmodum aequalitas gratissima. Vix autem reperies ullam aulam tam modestam quae non multum habeat strepitus atque ambitionis, multum fuci, multum luxus, quaeque prorsus absit ab omni specie tyrannidis. Quin nec in Henrici octavi aulam pertrahi potuit nisi multo negotio, cum hoc principe nec optari quicquam possit civilius ac modestius.

He was once more alien to court and to the familiarity of princes, because tyranny had always been peculiarly hateful to him, just as equality most pleasing. Yet you will scarcely find any court so modest that it does not have much noise and ambition, much cosmetic pretense, much luxury, and that is altogether absent from every appearance of tyranny. Indeed, not even into the court of Henry the Eighth could he be drawn except with much trouble, since with this prince nothing could be wished more civil and more modest.

Natura libertatis atque otii est avidior; sed quemadmodum otio cum datur lubens utitur, ita quoties poscit res, nemo vigilantior aut patientior. Ad amicitiam natus factusque videtur, cuius et sincerissimus est cultor et longe tenacissimus est. Nec ille metuit multorum amicitiam ab Hesiodo parum laudatam.

His nature is more avid for liberty and leisure; but, just as when leisure is given he uses it willingly, so as often as the matter demands, no one is more vigilant or more patient.
For friendship he seems to have been born and made, of which he is both the most sincere
cultivator and by far the most tenacious. Nor does he fear the friendship of many
too little lauded by Hesiod.

Nulli non patet ad necessitudinis foedus. Nequaquam morosus in deligendo, commodissimus in alendo, constantissimus in retinendo. Si forte incidit in quempiam cuius vitiis mederi non possit, hunc per occasionem dimittit, dissuens amicitiam, non abrumpens.

He shuts out no one from a covenant of relationship. By no means morose in selecting, most accommodating in fostering, most constant in retaining. If by chance he falls in with someone whose vices he cannot heal, he lets him go when occasion offers, discouraging the friendship, not breaking it off.

Quos sinceros reperit, et ad ingenium suum appositos, horum consuetudine fabulisque sic delectatur, ut his in rebus praecipuam vitae voluptatem ponere videatur. Nam a pila, alea, chartis, ceterisque lusibus quibus procerum vulgus temporis taedium solet fallere, prorsus abhorret. Porro ut propriarum rerum est neglegentior, ita nemo diligentior in curandis amicorum negotiis.

Those whom he finds sincere,
and fitted to his own temperament, in their companionship and tales he so
delights that he seems to place the chief pleasure of life in these things. For
from ball, dice, cards, and the other games with which the common run of the
great are accustomed to beguile the tedium of time, he utterly abhors. Moreover,
as he is more negligent of his own affairs, so no one is more diligent in caring
for the business of his friends.

Quid multis? Si quis absolutum verae amicitiae requirat exemplar, a nemine rectius petierit quam a Moro.

Why many words? If anyone should require an absolute exemplar of true friendship, from no one more rightly would he seek it than from More.

In convictu tam rara comitas ac morum suavitas, ut nemo tam tristi sit ingenio quem non exhilaret: nulla res tam atrox cuius taedium non discutiat. Iam inde a puero sic iocis est delectatus, ut ad hos natus videri possit, sed in his nec ad scurrilitatem usque progressus est, nec mordacitatem unquam amavit. Adolescens comoediolas et scripsit et egit.

In company so rare a comity and suavity of manners, that no one is of so gloomy a disposition whom he does not exhilarate: no matter so atrocious whose tedium he does not dispel. Already from boyhood he was so delighted with jests that he might seem born for these, but in these he neither advanced as far as scurrility, nor did he ever love mordacity. As a young man he both wrote and acted little comedies.

Si quod dictum erat salsius etiam in ipsum tortum, tamen amabat; usque adeo gaudet salibus argutis et ingenium redolentibus: unde et epigrammatis lusit iuvenis, et Luciano cum primis est delectatus, quin et mihi ut Morias Encomium scriberem, hoc est ut camelus saltarem, fuit auctor.

If anything said was somewhat saltier, even turned against himself, nevertheless he loved it; so far does he rejoice in keen sallies
redolent of genius: whence also, as a youth, he played with epigrams, and
he took especial delight in Lucian; nay, he even urged me to write the Encomium of Folly,
that is, that I should dance like a camel—he was the author of the suggestion.

Nihil autem in rebus humanis obvium est unde ille non venetur voluptatem, etiam in rebus maxime seriis. Si cum eruditis et cordatis res est, delectatur ingenio; si cum indoctis ac stultis, fruitur illorum stultitia. Nec offenditur morionibus, mira dexteritate ad omnium affectus sese accommodans.

Nothing, however, in human affairs presents itself from which he does not hunt pleasure, even in matters most serious. If his business is with the erudite and the prudent, he is delighted with ingenuity; if with the unlearned and the foolish, he enjoys their folly. Nor is he not offended by jesters, with wondrous dexterity accommodating himself to the affections of all.

Cum mulieribus fere atque etiam cum uxore non nisi lusus iocosque tractat. Diceres alterum quendam esse Democritum, aut potius Pythagoricum illum philosophum, qui vacuus animo per mercatum obambulans contemplatur tumultus vendentium atque ementium. Nemo minus ducitur vulgi iudicio, sed rursus nemo minus abest a sensu communi.

With women for the most part, and even with his wife, he handles nothing but sports and jests.
You would say he is a second Democritus, or rather that Pythagorean philosopher, who, vacant in mind, strolling through the marketplace,
contemplates the tumults of sellers and buyers. No one is less led by the judgment of the crowd, yet conversely no one is less absent from common sense.

Praecipua illi voluptas est spectare formas, ingenia et affectus diversorum animantium. Proinde nullum fere genus est avium quod domi non alat, et si quod aliud animal vulgo rarum, veluti simia, vulpes, viverra, mustela, et his consimilia. Ad haec si quid exoticum aut alioqui spectandum occurrit, avidissime mercari solet; atque his rebus undique domum habet instructam, ut nusquam non sit obvium quod oculos ingredientium demoretur; ac toties sibi renovat voluptatem, quoties alios conspicit oblectari.

His chief delight is to behold the forms, ingenuities, and affections of diverse living creatures. Accordingly, there is scarcely any kind of bird that he does not keep at home, and likewise any other animal commonly rare, such as a monkey, a fox, a civet, a weasel, and those similar to these. To these add that, if anything exotic or otherwise worth seeing turns up, he is most eager to purchase it; and with these things he has his house furnished on all sides, so that nowhere is there not something meeting one that detains the eyes of those entering; and he so many times renews his pleasure for himself as many times as he sees others take delight.

Bonas literas a primis annis hauserat. Iuvenis ad Graecas literas atque philosophiae studium sese applicuit, adeo non opitulante patre viro alioqui prudenti proboque, ut ea conantem omni subsidio destitueret, ac paene pro abdicato haberet, quod a patriis studiis desciscere videretur: nam is Britannicarum legum peritiam profitetur. Quae professio, ut est a veris literis alienissima, ita apud Britannos cum primis habentur magni clarique, qui in hoc genere sibi pararunt auctoritatem.

He had drawn in good letters from his earliest years. As a youth he applied himself to Greek letters and to the study of philosophy, his father by no means aiding—though a man otherwise prudent and upright—so that, as he attempted these things, he left him bereft of every support, and almost held him as disowned, because he seemed to secede from his paternal studies: for he professes expertise in the British laws. Which profession, as it is most alien from true letters, so among the Britons those are held among the foremost as great and illustrious who in this kind have procured authority for themselves.

Nec temere apud illos alia via ad rem ac gloriam parandam magis idonea; siquidem pleramque nobilitatem illius insulae peperit hoc studiorum genus. In eo negant quenquam absolvi posse, nisi plurimos annos insudarit. Ab hoc igitur cum non iniuria abhorreret adolescentis ingenium melioribus rebus natum, tamen post degustatas scholasticas disciplinas sic in hoc versatus est ut neque consulerent quenquam libentius litigatores, neque quaestum uberiorem faceret quisquam eorum qui nihil aliud agebant.

Nor, among them, is there readily another way more suitable for procuring wealth and glory; since this kind of studies has begotten a great part of the nobility of that island. In it they assert that no one can be absolved unless he has sweated for very many years. From this, therefore, since the young man’s natural talent, born for better things, not without justice abhorred it, yet after the scholastic disciplines had been tasted, he so exercised himself in this that litigants consulted no one more gladly, nor did anyone of those who did nothing else make a more abundant profit.

Tanta erat vis ac celeritas ingenii.

So great was the force and celerity of his genius.

Quin et evolvendis orthodoxorum voluminibus non segnem operam impendit. Augustini libros De civitate Dei publice professus est adhuc paene adolescens auditorio frequenti, nec puduit nec poenituit sacerdotes ac senes a iuvene profano sacra discere. Interim et ad pietatis studium totum animum appulit, vigiliis, ieiuniis, precationibus aliisque consimilibus progymnasmatis sacerdotium meditans.

Moreover, he expended no sluggish effort in reading through the volumes of the orthodox. He publicly lectured on Augustine’s books On the City of God, still almost an adolescent,
to a crowded audience, and neither was it a shame nor did it cause regret that priests and elders
learned sacred things from a lay youth. Meanwhile he also applied his whole mind
to the pursuit of piety, by vigils, fasts, prayers, and other similar
progymnasmata—preliminary exercises—contemplating the priesthood.

Qua quidem in re non paulo plus ille sapiebat, quam plerique isti, qui temere ad tam arduam professionem ingerunt sese, nullo prius sui periculo.

In this matter indeed he was, by no small measure, wiser than most of those who rashly thrust themselves into so arduous a profession, without first exposing themselves to any peril.

Tamen virginem duxit admodum puellam, claro genere natam, rudem adhuc, utpote ruri inter parentes ac sorores semper habitam, quo magis illi liceret illam ad suos mores fingere. Hanc et literis instituendam curavit et omni musices genere doctam reddidit, planeque talem paene finxerat; quicum libuisset universam aetatem exigere, ni mors praematura puellam sustulisset e medio, sed enixam liberos aliquot, quorum adhuc supersunt puellae tres, Margareta, Aloysia, Cecilia, puer unus Ioannes. Neque diu caelebs vivere sustinuit, licet alio vocantibus amicorum consiliis.

Nevertheless he married a maiden, a very young girl, born of illustrious stock, still unpolished, inasmuch as she had always lived in the countryside among her parents and sisters, so that it might the more be permitted him to mold her to his own mores. He took care that she be instructed in letters and made learned in every kind of music, and he had almost plainly fashioned her such that he would have liked to pass his whole lifetime with her, if premature death had not carried the girl off out of the midst; but she had borne several children, of whom there still survive three girls, Margaret, Aloysia, Cecilia, and one boy, John. Nor did he long endure to live celibate, although the counsels of friends were calling him in another direction.

Paucis mensibus a funere uxoris viduam duxit, magis curandae familiae quam voluptati, quippe nec bellam admodum nec puellam, ut ipse iocari solet, sed acrem ac vigilantem matremfamilias; quicum tamen perinde comiter suaviterque vivit, ac si puella foret forma quantumlibet amabili. Vix ullus maritus a sua tantum obsequii impetrat imperio atque severitudine, quantum hic blanditiis iocisque. Quid enim non impetret, posteaquam effecit ut mulier iam ad senium vergens, ad hoc animi minime mollis, postremo ad rem attentissima, cithara, testudine, monochordo, tibiis canere disceret, et in hisce rebus cotidie praescriptum operae pensum exigenti marito redderet?

Within a few months from the funeral of his wife he took a widow to wife, more for the care of the household than for pleasure, since
she was neither very beautiful nor a young girl, as he himself is wont to joke, but a keen and vigilant materfamilias; with whom nevertheless he lives just as courteously and sweetly
as if she were a girl of however lovable a form. Scarcely any husband obtains from his wife so much obedience by command and severity as this man by
blandishments and jokes. For what would he not obtain, after he brought it about that a woman already verging toward old age, moreover in disposition by no means soft, and finally most attentive to business,
should learn to play the cithara, the testudo (tortoise-shell lyre), the monochord, and the pipes, and in these matters should each day render to her husband, who exacts it, the prescribed quota of work?

Consimili comitate totam familiam moderatur, in qua nulla tragoedia, nulla rixa. Si quid exstiteris, protinus aut medetur aut componit; neque quenquam unquam dimisit ut inimicum aut ut inimicus. Quin huius domus fatalis quaedam videtur felicitas, in qua nemo vixit qui non provectus sit ad meliorem fortunam, nullus unquam ullam famae labem contraxit.

With similar comity he moderates the whole household, in which no tragedy, no brawl. If anything should arise, at once he either remedies it or composes it; nor has he ever dismissed anyone either as an enemy or as an enemy himself. Nay rather, of this house a certain fated felicity seems apparent, in which no one has lived who has not been advanced to a better fortune, no one ever has contracted any stain upon reputation.

Quin vix ullos reperias quibus sic convenerit cum matre, ut huic cum noverca; nam pater iam alteram induxit; utramque non minus adamavit ac matrem. Porro erga parentes ac liberos sororesque sic affectus est, ut nec amet moleste nec usquam desit officio pietatis.

Indeed you would hardly find any whose relations with a mother have so agreed as his with a stepmother; for the father has already brought in another; and he has loved each of them no less than as a mother. Moreover, toward parents and children and sisters he is thus disposed, that he neither loves in a burdensome way nor is anywhere lacking in the office of piety.

Animus est a sordido lucro alienissimus. Liberis suis semovit e facultatibus quod illis satis esse putat; quod superest largiter effundit. Cum advocationibus adhuc aleretur, nulli non dedit amicum verumque consilium, magis illorum commodis prospiciens quam suis; plerisque solitus persuadere uti litem conponerent, minus enim hic fore dispendii.

His spirit is most alien from sordid lucre. For his children he has set apart out of his resources what he deems will be enough for them; what remains he pours forth lavishly. When he was still being nourished by advocations, he refused to no one friendly and true counsel, looking out more for their advantage than for his own; being accustomed to persuade most to compose the lawsuit, for there would be less expense in this.

Id si minus impetrabat, tum rationem indicabat qua possent quam minimo dispendio litigare, quando quibusdam hic animus est, ut litibus etiam delectentur. In urbe Londoniensi, in qua natus est, annos aliquot iudicem egit in causis civilibus. Id munus ut minimum habet oneris (nam non sedetur nisi die Iovis usque ad prandium), ita cum primis honorificum habetur.

If he obtained that less, then he pointed out a method by which they might litigate with the least dispendium, since some have this disposition, that they even take delight in lawsuits. In
the city of London, in which he was born, for several years he served as a judge in civil
cases. That office, as it has the minimum of burden (for one does not sit except on Thursday
up to lunchtime), so it is held among the foremost honorific.

Nemo plures causas absolvit, nemo se gessit integrius; remissa plerisque pecunia quam ex praescripto debent qui litigant. Siquidem ante litis contestationem actor deponit tres drachmas, totidem reus, nec amplius quicquam fas est exigere. His moribus effecit ut civitati suae longe carissimus esset.

No one brought more cases to conclusion, no one conducted himself with greater integrity; for many the money was remitted which, by prescription, those who litigate owe. For indeed, before the contestation of the suit the plaintiff deposits three drachmas, the defendant as many, and it is not lawful to exact anything more. By these customs he brought it about that he was by far most dear to his city.

Decreverat autem hac fortuna esse contentus, quae et satis haberet auctoritatis, nec tamen esset gravibus obnoxia periculis. Semel atque iterum extrusus est in legationem; in qua cum se cordatissime gessisset, non conquievit serenissimus rex Henricus eius nominis octavus, donec hominem in aulam suam pertraheret. Cur enim non dicam pertraheret?

He had resolved, moreover, to be content with this fortune, which both had enough authority, and yet was not liable to grave dangers. Twice he was thrust forth into a legation; in which, since he had conducted himself most prudently, the most serene king Henry, the Eighth of that name, did not rest until he dragged the man into his own court. For why, indeed, should I not say “dragged”?

Nullus unquam vehementius ambiit in aulam admitti quam hic studuit effugere. Verum cum esset optimo regi in animo familiam suam eruditis, gravibus, cordatis et integris viris differtam reddere, cum alios permultos, tum Morum in primis accivit; quem sic in intimis habet, ut a se nunquam patiatur discedere. Sive seriis utendum est, nihil illo consultius; sive visum est regi fabulis amoenioribus laxare animum, nullus comes festivior.

No one ever canvassed more vehemently to be admitted to a court than he strove to flee it. Yet since it was in the mind of the most excellent king to render his household crammed with learned, grave, prudent, and men of integrity, he summoned, along with very many others, More in the first rank; whom he so holds among his intimates that he never allows him to depart from him. Whether there is need of serious affairs, nothing is more judicious than he; or if it has seemed good to the king to relax his mind with more pleasant tales, no companion is more festive.

Saepe res arduae iudicem gravem et cordatum postulant; has sic Morus discutit, ut utraque pars habeat gratiam. Nec tamen ab eo quisquam impetravit ut munus a quoquam acciperet. Felices res publicas, si Mori similes magistratus ubique praeficeret princeps!

Often arduous matters demand a judge grave and prudent; these More disentangles in such a way that each party has favor. Yet no one ever prevailed upon him to accept a gift from anyone. Happy the republics, if the prince everywhere would set over them magistrates like More!

Nec interim ullum accessit supercilium.

Nor in the meantime did any superciliousness come upon him.

Inter tantas negotiorum moles et veterum amiculorum meminit et ad literas adamatas subinde redit. Quicquid dignitate valet, quicquid apud amplissimum regem gratia pollet, id omne iuvandae reipublicae, iuvandis amicis impendit. Semper quidem adfuit animus de cunctis bene merendi cupidissimus, mireque pronus ad misericordiam: eum nunc magis exserit, quando potest plus prodesse.

Amid such great masses of business he both remembers his old friends and from time to time returns to his beloved letters. Whatever weight his dignity carries, whatever favor prevails with the most illustrious king, he expends it all on aiding the republic, on aiding his friends. Indeed there has always been present a spirit most eager to deserve well of all, and wondrously prone to mercy: this he now displays the more, since he can be of greater use.

Alios pecunia sublevat, alios auctoritate tuetur, alios commendatione provehit: quos alioqui iuvare non potest, his consilio succurrit: nullum unquam a se tristem dimisit. Diceres Morum esse publicum omnium inopum patronum. Ingens lucrum sibi putat accessisse, si quem oppressum sublevavit, si perplexum et impeditum explicuit, si alienatum redegit in gratiam.

He relieves some with money, he protects others with authority, others
he advances by commendation: those whom otherwise he cannot help, he succors with counsel:
he never sent anyone away from him sad. You would say that More was the public
patron of all the needy. He thinks that immense lucre has accrued to him, if he has lifted up someone
oppressed, if he has extricated one perplexed and impeded, if he has brought back one alienated
into favor.

Nemo lubentius collocat beneficium, nemo minus exprobrat. Iam cum tot nominibus sit felicissimus, et felicitatis comes fere soleat esse iactantia, nullum adhuc mortalium mihi videre contigit qui longius abesset ab hoc vitio.

No one more gladly bestows a benefit, no one reproaches it less. Now, although he is most felicitous under so many titles, and boastfulness is commonly the companion of felicity, it has not yet befallen me to see anyone among mortals who was farther removed from this vice.

Sed ad studiorum commemorationem redeo, quae me Moro mihique Morum potissimum conciliarent. Primam aetatem carmine potissimum exercuit. Mox diu luctatus est, ut prosam orationem redderet molliorem, per omne scripti genus stilum exercens; qui cuiusmodi sit, quid attinet commemorare?

But I return to the commemoration of studies, which would most especially conciliate me to More and More to me
He exercised his earliest age chiefly in verse. Soon for a long time
he wrestled, that he might render his prose oration smoother, exercising his style through every kind of writing;
what need is there to recount of what sort it is?

tibi praesertim qui libros eius semper habeas in manibus. Declamationibus praecipue delectatus est, et in his, materiis paradoxis, quod in his acrior sit ingeniorum exercitatio. Unde adolescens etiamnum dialogum moliebatur, in quo Platonis communitatem ad uxores usque defendit.

for you
especially, who always have his books in your hands. He took especial delight in declamations,
and in these, in paradoxical materials, because in these the exercise of wits is keener. Whence, still an adolescent, he was laboring at a dialogue, in
which he defended Plato’s community even as far as wives.

Luciani Tyrannicidae respondit, quo in argumento me voluit antagonistam habere; quo certius periculum faceret ecquid profecisset in hoc genere. Utopiam hoc consilio edidit, ut indicaret quibus rebus fiat ut minus commode habeant respublicae; sed Britannicam potissimum effinxit, quam habet penitus perspectam cognitamque. Secundum librum prius scripserat per otium; mox per occasionem primum adiecit ex tempore.

He replied to Lucian’s Tyrannicides, in which argument he wished to have me as antagonist; in order the more surely to make a trial whether he had made any progress in this genre.
He published Utopia with this design: to indicate by what things it comes about that republics have their affairs less commodiously; but he fashioned especially the British one, which he has thoroughly surveyed and known.
He had written the second book earlier, during leisure; soon, as occasion offered, he added the first extempore.

Atque hinc nonnulla dictionis inaequalitas.

And hence some inequality of diction.

Vix alium reperias qui felicius dicat ex tempore; adeo felici ingenio felix lingua subservit. Ingenium praesens et ubique praevolens, memoria parata; quae cum omnia habeat velut in numerato, prompte et incontanter suggerit quicquid tempus aut res postulat. In disputationibus nihil fingi potest acutius, adeo ut summis etiam theologis saepe negotium facessat, in ipsorum harena versans.

You would scarcely find another who speaks more felicitously extemporaneously; so much does a felicitous tongue subserve a felicitous wit. A talent present and everywhere flying-ahead, a memory prepared; which, since it has everything as if in ready cash, promptly and without faltering suggests whatever time or circumstance demands. In disputations nothing can be imagined more acute, so that he often makes trouble even for the highest theologians, turning about in their own arena.

Ioannes Coletus, vir acris exactique iudicii, in familiaribus colloquiis subinde dicere solet Britanniae non nisi unicum esse ingenium; cum haec insula tot egregiis ingeniis floreat.

John Colet, a man of sharp and exact judgment, in familiar conversations is wont from time to time to say that Britain has but a single genius; although this island flourishes with so many outstanding geniuses.

Verae pietatis non indiligens cultor est, etiam si ab omni superstitione alienissimus. Habet suas horas, quibus Deo litet precibus, non ex more, sed e pectore depromptis. Cum amicis sic fabulatur de vita futuri seculi, ut agnoscas illum ex animo loqui neque sine optima spe.

He is no negligent cultivator of true piety, even though he is most alien from all superstition. He has his hours, in which he offers to God with prayers, not according to custom, but drawn from the heart. With friends he thus converses about the life of the age to come, that you recognize him to speak from the soul, and not without the best hope.

Ac talis Morus est etiam in aula. Et postea sunt qui putent Christianos non inveniri nisi in monasteriis.

And such is More
even at court. And yet there are those who think that Christians are not to be found except in
monasteries.

Tales viros cordatissimus rex in familiam suam atque adeo in cubiculum non solum admittit verum etiam invitat; nec invitat modo verum etiam pertrahit. Hos habet arbitros ac testes perpetuos vitae suae, hos habet in consiliis, hos habet itinerum comites. Ab his stipari gaudet potius quam luxu perditis iuvenibus aut mulierculis, aut etiam torquatis Midis aut insinceris officiis; quorum alius ad voluptates ineptas avocet, alius ad tyrannidem inflammet, alius ad expilandum populum novas technas suggerat.

Such men the most prudent king admits into his household and indeed into his bedchamber not only admits but even invites; nor does he only invite, but even draws them in. These he has as arbiters and perpetual witnesses of his life, these he has in his counsels, these he has as companions of his journeys. By these he rejoices to be attended rather than by youths ruined by luxury or by womenfolk, or even by torque-wearing Midases or by insincere courtesies; of whom one diverts to inept pleasures, another inflames toward tyranny, another suggests new techniques for plundering the people.

In hac aula si vixisses, Huttene, sat scio rursum aliam aulam describeres, et aulas odisse desineres. Quanquam tu quoque cum eo principe vivis ut integriorem nec optare possis; neque desunt qui rebus optimis faveant. Sed quid ista paucitas ad tantum examen insignium virorum, Montioii, Linacri, Pacaei, Coleti, Stocschleii, Latimeri, Mori, Tunstalli, Clericiatque aliorum his adsimilium?

In this court,
if you had lived, Hutten, I quite know you would again describe another court, and you would cease to hate courts.
Although you too live with such a prince that you could not even wish for a more upright one; nor are there lacking those who favor the best causes.
But what is that paucity compared to so great an array of distinguished men—Mountjoy, Linacre, Pace, Colet, Stokesley, Latimer, More, Tunstall, Clerk—and others like to these?

quorum quemcunque nominaveris, mundum omnium virtutum ac disciplinarum semel dixeris. Mihi vero spes est haudquaquam vulgaris fore ut Albertus, unicum his temporibus nostrae Germaniae ornamentum, et plures sui similes in suam allegat familiam, et ceteris principibus gravi sit exemplo, ut idem et ipsi suae quisque domi facere studeant.

whichever of them you might name, you would have said a world of all virtues and
disciplines at once. I, for my part, have a by-no-means common hope that
Albert, the unique ornament of our Germany in these times, both gathers more like
himself into his own family, and is a weighty example to the other princes,
so that they too, each at his own house, strive to do the same.

Habes imaginem ad optimum exemplar a pessimo artifice non optime delineatam. Ea tibi minus placebit, si continget Morum nosse propius. Sed illud tamen interim cavi, ne mihi possis impingere, quod tibi minus paruerim, neve semper opprobres nimium breves epistolas.

You have a likeness after an excellent exemplar, not very well delineated by a very bad artist. That will please you less, if it should befall you to know More more closely. But this, however in the meantime I have taken care, lest you be able to impute to me that I have too little obeyed you, nor that you always cast opprobrium on excessively brief epistles.

Etiamsi haec nec mihi scribenti visa est longior, nec tibi legenti, sat scio, prolixa videbitur: id faciet Mori nostri suavitas. Bene vale.

Even if this has seemed longer neither to me writing nor to you reading, I know well, it will appear prolix: the sweetness of our More will bring that about. Fare well.

Antuuerpiae decimo Calendas Augusti Anno M.D.XIX.

At Antwerp, on the tenth day before the Kalends of August, in the year 1519.

XXVII. A Dishonest Londoner

27. A Dishonest Londoner

Hoc nuper cuidam accidit apud Britannos, medico mihi ut patria communi, ita et amicitia coniunctissimo. Civem quendam Londoniensem, virum egregie nummatum et habitum adprime probum, arte curaque sua liberarat, non sine suo ipsius periculo; nam is pestilentissima febre tenebatur. Et ut fit in periculis, medico montes aureos fuerat pollicitus, si non gravaretur sibi in tanto vitae discrimine dexter adesse, obtestatus et amicitiam quae illi cum eo intercedebat.

This lately happened among the Britons, to a physician most closely conjoined to me, as by a common fatherland, so also by friendship. A certain London citizen, a man exceedingly moneyed and held in repute as supremely upright, he had delivered by his art and care, not without peril to himself; for that man was held by a most pestilential fever. And as it happens in perils, he had promised the physician mountains of gold, if he would not think it burdensome for himself, in so great a crisis of life, to be dexterously at hand, adjuring also the friendship which interceded between them.

Quid multis? Persuasit et iuveni et Germano. Adfuit, nihil non fecit; revixit ille.

What need of many words? He persuaded both the young man and the German. He was present, left nothing undone; he revived.

Ubi verecunde de pecunia medicus admonuerat, elusit nugator, negans de mercede quicquam addubitandum, ceterum arcae nummariae clavem penes uxorem esse: 'et nosti' inquit 'mulierum ingenium. Nolo sentiat tantam pecuniae summam a me datam.' Deinde post dies aliquot hominem obvium forte factum, iam nitidum et nulla morbi vestigia prae se ferentem, appellavit et nondum datae mercedis admonuit. Ille constanter asseverare pecuniam suo iussu ab uxore numeratam esse.

When the physician had modestly reminded him about the money,
the trifler evaded it, denying that there was anything to be doubted about the fee, but that the key of the money‑chest was in his wife’s possession: ‘and you know,’ he says, ‘the nature of women. I do not want her to sense that so great a sum of money has been given by me.’ Then after several days
he happened by chance upon the man, now sleek and displaying no traces of disease,
accosted him and reminded him of the fee not yet given. He steadfastly asseverated
that the money had been counted out by his wife at his command.

Medicus negare factum. Hic vide quam ansam bonus ille vir arripuerit. Cum forte medicus eum Latine numero singulari appellasset, ibi velut atroci lacessitus iniuria, 'Vah,' inquit 'homo Germanus tuissas Anglum?' Moxque velut impos animi, prae iracundia caput movens diraque minitans, subduxit sese.

The physician denied that it had been done.
Here, see what pretext that good man seized; when by chance the physician had addressed him in Latin in the singular number,
there, as though provoked by atrocious injury,
“Vah,” he says, “a German man, do you ‘thou’ an Englishman?” And soon, as if not in possession of his mind,
shaking his head from anger and threatening dire things, he withdrew himself.

Atque ad eum modum honestus ille civis elusit, dignus profecto quem sua pestis repetat. Risimus quidem fabulam, nec tamen sine dolore propter indigne frustratum amicum, nec sine tam insignis ingratitudinis admiratione. Referunt gratiam leones in periculis adiuti; meminerunt officii dracones.

And in that manner that honorable citizen made sport, truly worthy, to be sure, that his own plague should revisit him. We did indeed laugh at the tale, yet not without pain because of the friend so undeservedly frustrated, nor without amazement at such signal ingratitude. Lions return gratitude when helped in dangers; dragons remember their duty.

Homo homini, amicus amico sic merito, pro mercede quae nulla satis digna rependi poterat, ludibrium reponit. Atque haec in facti detestationem diximus, non in gentis odium. Nec enim par est ex hoc uno nebulone Britannos omnes aestimari.

Man to man, friend to friend thus deservedly, for a service which no sufficiently worthy reward could repay, he pays back a mockery. And we have said these things in detestation of the deed, not in hatred of the nation. For it is not fitting that from this one good-for-nothing all the Britons be judged.

XXVIII. The Condition of English Houses

28. The Condition of English Houses

(Erasmus Roterodamus Francisco Cardinalis Eboracensis Medico S.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam to Francis, the physician of the Cardinal of York, greetings.)

Frequenter et admirari et dolere soleo, qui fiat ut Britannia tot iam annis assidua pestilentia vexetur, praesertim sudore letali, quod malum paene videtur habere peculiare. Legimus civitatem a diutina pestilentia liberatam, consilio philosophi mutatis aedificiis. Aut me fallit animus, aut simili ratione liberari possit Anglia.

I am frequently wont both to marvel and to grieve, how it comes to pass that Britain for so many years is harassed by constant pestilence, especially by the lethal sweat, which evil seems almost to be peculiar. We read that a city was freed from a long-continued pestilence, by the counsel of a philosopher, the edifices having been changed. Either my mind deceives me, or by a similar method England could be freed.

Primum quam coeli partem spectent fenestrae ostiave nihil habent pensi: deinde sic fere constructa sunt conclavia, ut nequaquam sint perflabilia, quod inprimis admonet Galenus. Tum magnam parietis partem habent vitreis tessellis pellucidam, quae sic admittunt lumen ut ventos excludant, et tamen per rimulas admittunt auram illam colatam, aliquanto pestilentiorem, ibi diu quiescentem. Tum sola fere strata sunt argilla, tum scirpis palustribus, qui subinde sic renovantur, ut fundamentum maneat aliquoties annos viginti, sub se fovens sputa, vomitus, proiectam cervisiam et piscium reliquias, aliasque sordes non nominandas.

First, which part of the sky the windows or the doorways face they reckon nothing of: then the chambers are for the most part constructed in such a way that they are by no means through‑ventilated, which Galen especially admonishes. Then they have a great part of the wall pellucid with glass tessellae, which thus admit light while they exclude winds, and yet through little chinks they admit that filtered breeze, somewhat more pestilential, long lying there at rest. Then the floors are mostly strewn first with clay, then with marsh‑reeds, which are renewed from time to time in such a way that the under‑layer remains sometimes twenty years, fostering beneath itself spittle, vomit, spilled ale and the leavings of fish, and other filths not to be named.

Hinc mutato coelo vapor quidam exhalatur, mea sententia minime salubris humano corpori.

Hence, with the climate changed, a certain vapor is exhaled, in my judgment least salubrious to the human body.

Adde quod Anglia non solum undique circumfusa est mari, verum etiam multis in locis palustris est salsisque fluminibus intersecta; ne quid dicam interim de salsamentis, quibus vulgus mirum in modum delectatur. Confiderem insulam fore multo salubriorem si scirporum usus tolleretur; tum si sic exstruerentur cubicula, ut duobus aut tribus lateribus paterent coelo; fenestris omnibus vitreis ita confectis, ut totae possent aperiri, totae claudi, et sic claudi ut non pateret per hiantes rimas aditus ventis noxiis. Siquidem ut aliquando salutiferum est admittere coelum, ita nonnunquam salutiferum est excludere.

Add to this that England is not only on all sides surrounded by the sea, but also in many places is marshy and intersected by brackish streams; not to say meanwhile anything of the salted provisions, with which the common crowd delights in a wondrous way. I would be confident the island would be much more salubrious if the use of rushes were abolished; then if bedchambers were constructed in such a way that on two or three sides they lay open to the sky; with all the windows of glass so made that they could be opened wholly, wholly closed, and so closed that no access lay open to noxious winds through gaping cracks. For indeed, just as at times it is salutiferous to admit the sky, so sometimes it is salutiferous to exclude it.

Ridet vulgus si quis offenditur coelo nubiloso. Ego et ante annos triginta, si fueram ingressus cubiculum in quo mensibus aliquot nemo versatus esset, ilico incipiebam febricitare. Conferret huc, si vulgo parcior victus persuaderi posset ac salsamentorum moderatior usus; tum si publica cura demandaretur aedilibus, ut viae mundiores essent a caeno, curarentur et ea quae civitati vicina essent.

The common crowd laughs if anyone is offended by a cloudy sky. I too, even thirty years ago, if I had entered a chamber in which for several months no one had spent time, immediately began to be feverish. It would contribute toward this, if a more sparing regimen could be persuaded upon the common people and a more moderate use of salted provisions; then if public care were entrusted to the aediles, that the streets might be cleaner of mud, and that the things adjacent to the city be cared for as well.

Ridebis, scio, otium meum, qui his de rebus sollicitus sim. Faveo regioni quae mihi tam diu praebuit hospitium; et in qua libens finiam quod superest aevi, si liceat. Non dubito quin tu haec pro tua prudentia rectius noris; libuit tamen admonere, ut si meum iudicium cum tuo consentiat, haec viris principibus persuadeas.

You will laugh, I know, at my leisure, that I am solicitous about these matters. I favor the region which has for so long provided me hospitality; and in which I would gladly finish what remains of my life, if it be permitted. I do not doubt that you, by your prudence, know these things more rightly; nevertheless it pleased me to admonish, that if my judgment agrees with yours, you may persuade these things to the principal men.

Haec enim olim regum cura consuevit esse. Scripsissem perlibenter reverendissimo domino Cardinali; sed nec otium erat nec argumentum, nec ignoro quibus ille negotiis distringatur. Bene vale, vir humanissime; cui debeo plurimum.

For this in former times used to be the care of kings. I would most gladly have written to the most reverend lord Cardinal; but there was neither leisure nor subject, nor am I unaware by what businesses he is constrained. Fare well, most humane man; to whom I owe very much.

XXIX. Fisher's Study at Rochester

29. Fisher's Study at Rochester

(Erasmus Roterodamus Ioanni Episcopo Roffensi S.D.)

(Erasmus of Rotterdam sends greetings to John, Bishop of Rochester.)

Reverende Praesul, maerens ac dolens hoc verbum legi in epistola tua, 'Utinam vivum me reperiat liber,' &c. Auxit famulus dolorem, qui nuntiavit affligi te adversa valetudine. Nihil indulges isti corpusculo. Suspicor magnam tuae valetudinis partem nasci ex loco.

Reverend Prelate, grieving and sorrowing I read this word in your epistle, ‘Would that the book find me alive,’ &c. The servant increased the grief, who reported that you were afflicted with adverse health. You indulge that little body of yours not at all. I suspect that a great part of your state of health is born from the place.

Nunc enim medicum agam, si pateris. Mare vicinum et lutum subinde maris decessu nudatum coelum exasperat. Et habes bibliothecam undique parietibus vitreis, qui per rimas transmittunt auram subtilem et, ut medici loquuntur, colatam, pestilentem raris et imbecillis corpusculis.

For now I will play the physician, if you allow. The neighboring sea and the mud, from time to time laid bare by the recession of the sea, exasperate the atmosphere. And you have a library on all sides with glass walls, which through the cracks transmit a subtle and, as physicians speak, filtered air, pestilent to rare and feeble bodies.

Nec me fugit quam assiduus sis in bibliotheca, quae tibi Paradisi loco est. Ego si in tali loco commorer tres horas, aegrotem. Magis conveniret cubiculum pavimento ligneo et parietibus undique ligno contabulatis.

Nor does it escape me how assiduous you are in
the library, which is to you in the place of Paradise. If I were to stay in such a place for three
hours, I would be ill. A little chamber would be more fitting, with a wooden floor and with the walls on all sides boarded with wood.

Spirant enim lateres et calx noxium quiddam. Scio pie viventibus mortem non esse formidabilem, sed totius ecclesiae refert talem episcopum esse superstitem in tanta bonorum inopia.

For bricks and lime breathe out something noxious. I know that for those living piously death is not formidable, but it concerns the whole church that such a bishop survive in so great a scarcity of good men.

Basileae. pridie nonas Septemb. Anno M.D.XXIIII.

Basel. the day before the Nones of September. In the year 1524.