He never forgave Zwingli, and when some time later the Swiss reformer, acting as a chaplain to the Swiss Protestant Army in a battle with the Swiss Catholic cantons, was killed, Luther pronounced this event a special dispensation of Providence. He was fully persuaded that the special spirit of prophecy had come down over him and that he had been inspired to denounce Zwingli and to declare that his doom was not far off. After the news of Zwingli's sad, untimely end, he wrote to his friend Link:

"We see the judgment of God a second time--first in the case of Münzer, and now of Zwingli. I was a prophet when I said, God will not long endure these mad and furious blasphemies with which they overflow, laughing at our God-made bread, and calling us carnivora, savages, drinkers of blood, and other horrible names."

This exaggeration of his own importance and conviction of his intimate relations with the Deity became more and more manifest as time goes on. The spectacle is not at all unfamiliar, though it is usually pathological, and the surprise always is how many followers such characters are able to gather around them at any time in the history of the race. It is this aspect of Luther's life and the psychic development of his career that have attracted the special attention of historians in recent years and received ample illustration from hitherto unused original documents.

Some of the recent studies of Luther, written by those who are making out just as good a case as possible with all the contemporary information that now is available, have some very illuminating passages as to the character of the reformer, who has been traditionally set up as a great religious leader. For instance, the explanation of how Luther came to permit the Landgrave Philip of Hesse to take a second wife is very disturbing to those who think of him as a reformer of religion. McGiffert, in his "Martin Luther, the Man and His Work" (New York, 1912), has much to say with regard to the permit undoubtedly granted not only by Luther, but also by Melanchthon for this bigamy, and then the proposed denial of the marriage, which is, if possible, more disturbing to the modern world than the permit itself. McGiffert said (p. 364):

"The proposed denial of the marriage, which seems to throw so sinister a light upon the whole affair, Luther justified somewhat sophistically by an appeal to the traditional maxim of the inviolability of the confessional, requiring the priest, if necessary, to tell an untruth rather than divulge its secrets. He justified it also by the more fundamental principle that the supreme ethical motive is regard for our neighbor's good, and it is better to lie than to do him harm. To this principle, taught not by a few ethical teachers of our own as well as other ages, he gave frequent expression."

McGiffert, with all his obvious effort to defend Luther, frankly finds this whole incident too much. He said (p. 366):

"Regarded from any point of view, the landgrave's bigamy was a disgraceful affair, and Luther's consent the gravest blunder [!] of his career. He acted conscientiously [!], but with a lamentable want of moral discernment and a singular lack of penetration and foresight. To approve a relationship so derogatory to the women involved, and so subversive to one of the most sacred safeguards of society, showed too little fineness of moral feeling and sureness of moral conviction; while to be so easily duped by the dissolute prince was no more creditable to his perspicacity than thinking such an affair could be kept secret to his sagacity."

The same biographer has summed up the closing years of Luther's life, from which we have so many records in the shape of letters and documents of various kinds. As McGiffert says: "There is little sign of flagging powers in his later writings. The same Luther still speaks in them with all the racy humor, biting satire and coarse vituperation of his best days." He continues (p. 373):

"Despite the multiplicity of his occupations, his closing years were far from happy. As time passed, he became more censorious, impatient and bitter. He seems to have been troubled less frequently than in earlier life with doubts as to his own spiritual condition and divine mission, but he grew correspondingly despondent over the results of his labors and the unworthiness of his followers. Instead of finding the world transformed into a paradise by his gospel, he saw things continuing much as before, and his heart grew sick with {253} disappointment. The first flush of enthusiasm passed, and the joy of battle gone, he had time to observe the results of his work, and they were by no means to his liking.

"Conditions even in Wittenberg itself were little to his liking. In this centre of gospel light he felt there should be a devotion and purity seen nowhere else. Instead, as the town grew in size and importance, and manners lost somewhat of their earlier simplicity, it seemed to his exaggerated sensibilities that everything was going rapidly to the bad."

Calvin, like Luther, was another of these vigorous active spirits so common in this time of the Renaissance who felt that he had a special call from on High to teach the world doctrines very different from those received before. Like Luther, he too used his native tongue in speech and writing with a forcefulness and originality that makes him one of the founders of the prose of his language. From his earliest youth of a very serious disposition, caring nothing for the games and sports in which his fellow-scholars indulged, shunning society and its pleasures, and prone to censure anything that was not deeply serious and to condemn everything that smacked of frivolity, he found abundant opportunity for reform. Severe to himself in the highest degree, relaxation seemed almost sinful. He insisted that others should follow the same regime and imputed even the ordinary amusements of life to sin. He was lacking entirely in that disposition for healthy, happy and hearty amusement which is a sign of good health of mind and body and the best possible proof of absolute sanity. The old Church had encouraged the recreations and amusements of the people. Calvin made it a cardinal principle of religion that there were to be none of them. He is probably no more to be held responsible for this, since it was due to the lack of something in him, than is the color-blind person for failure to perceive colors.

Poor Calvin, with no faculty for relaxation, insisted that others should not indulge theirs, and made it the basis of his religion that any such indulgence was sinful. From this to the doctrine of predestination to eternal punishment was not difficult. A God who meant life to be passed without recreation would surely not scruple to condemn most of His creatures {254} quite without their own fault to an eternity of punishment. Why is it when men make their gods they make them worse than themselves? Even the wise Greeks did not escape this pitfall.

There are always a number of people who are ready to follow anyone who announces any doctrine, no matter how unreasonable it may seem to be, if only he insists emphatically on his belief and if he evidently is a sincere believer in it himself. Calvin was one of the dominant spirits who readily gain control over others, and his severity to himself won many of the sombre people around him to a devotion to his cause that partook of worship. They even permitted themselves to be ruled by his rigid hand, and there probably never has been a place where less allowance was made for human nature than at Geneva during the days when Calvin ruled there with a rod of iron and when his particular mode of the reformation of religion was so completely accepted. To the dour Scots this austere doctrine appealed particularly, and Calvin's disciple, Knox, secured almost as much authority in Edinburgh as did his master down at Geneva.

Like Luther, Calvin before the end of his life was profoundly disillusioned with regard to the Reformation and its effect upon mankind. The unfortunate divisions of the Protestants among themselves, their readiness to persecute each other, their refusal to permit anything like religious toleration, above all their rejection, except for very limited numbers, of his own doctrines, made him foresee nothing but evil for the future. He knew that he had stirred mankind deeply in the West of Europe, but he could not foretell anything but unfortunate results from the conditions that he saw around him. He once said: "The future appals me. I dare not think of it. Unless the Lord descends from heaven, barbarism will engulf us."

HOLBEIN, HENRY VIII (LONDON)

The blot on Calvin's name through the execution of Servetus has been extenuated by his adherents, but the certainty of his complete hostility to the unfortunate physiologist, who insisted in dabbling in theology at a dangerous time, is now settled. Long before Servetus' execution at Geneva, Calvin actually secured through his well-developed system of {255} espionage and delation, extending even into Catholic countries, the persecution of Servetus by the Catholic ecclesiastical authorities in France. The details of this have now been traced very clearly. When Servetus, thinking to find protection where freedom of interpretation of Scriptures was preached, came to Geneva his fate was sealed. Calvin himself made it a personal matter to secure his conviction and bring about his execution. A number of the reformers are on record agreeing that Calvin's action in this case was eminently right, and even the gentle Melanchthon would not condemn it. Nothing makes so perfectly clear as this that the claim made for the Reformation of fostering or encouraging liberty of thought is founded entirely on a misconception of what the reformers were trying to do. The reformers wanted liberty of religious thinking for themselves, but they were not ready to grant it to others. After all, we in America do not need to appeal to foreign history in order to understand that very well, for the Puritan disciples of Calvin, driven out of England by Anglican religious persecution and intolerance, made a home for themselves in New England, where they practised the bitterest intolerance and absolutely refused to allow anyone to live in their communities unless he or she, as Ann Hutchinson learned to her cost, conformed unquestioningly to their religious tenets and practices.

The history of Henry VIII has less in it to make historians disagree. His uxoriousness represents the explanation of the revolutionary changes that took place in the government and the religion of England. He fell in love with a younger, handsomer woman than the elderly wife, who for more than twenty years had been, as he confessed himself, his faithful, loving spouse, and then his first marriage got on his conscience. The succeeding marriages are the best commentary on this explanation. His father, Henry VII, had left him a full treasury, and the son had spent liberally during the early years of his reign, and finally the famous Field of the Cloth of Gold had almost exhausted the crown's resources. Many a nobleman had literally carried his estates on his back and returned from France so heavily mortgaged that the power of the nobles was broken. This made most of them thoroughly {256} dependent on the King. When the trouble with the Church came then, the King himself and most of the nobles were rather glad of the opportunity to obtain possession of the Church properties, the estates of the great monasteries, and the many foundations for charitable and social purposes that existed in connection with Church societies. All of these might well be brought under the law of the confiscation so as to fatten the Royal treasury, or at least fall to an expectant sycophantic nobility.

The question that many have been unable to answer satisfactorily for themselves is how could the religion of a whole people be taken from them under such sordid circumstances if they really held it. It has been supposed that the change was made possible only by the fact that for centuries there had been a growing feeling in England of opposition to a foreign spiritual ruler, the Pope, and that this culminated in Henry VIII's time and enabled him to assume the headship of the English Church. James Gairdner has, however, dispelled this idea completely, though himself an Anglican, and like Augustus Jessop continuing in his adherence to the English Church. He shows in his book on Lollardism that there was no widespread growing feeling of opposition to Rome, and that while of course occasionally, when there were difficulties between the crown and the Pope, mutterings of spiritual insubordination were heard, which took the form expressed by Shakespeare through the mouth of King John in his play, these were but temporary and individual and not at all a growing sentiment of wide diffusion. England up to Henry's time had been one of the most faithful countries of Europe in the support of the Papacy, and continued to be so until the change actually came.

As a matter of fact, the people of England were deprived of their religion by fraud at first, and then by violence. They did not change it voluntarily. They were deeply attached to their church and clergy. Augustus Jessop, in his book "Before the Great Pillage," has told the story of the clergy before the reformation. He said: "Take them all in all I cannot resist the impression which has become deeper and deeper upon me the more I have read {257} and pondered, that the parochial clergy in England during the centuries between the Conquest and the Reformation numbered amongst them at all times some of the best men of their generation." He reechoes Chaucer's picture of the village parson who "did as well as taught." Jessop adds: "Not once, nor twice in our history these parish priests are to be found siding with the people against those in power and chosen by the people to be their spokesmen when their grievances were becoming unbearable." As to the pretended corruption of the monasteries, that has been disproved by all the careful investigation of recent years, until it has become perfectly clear that the abuses were no greater than may be expected at any time, since men are only human. The evidence for corruption was very slight, and what there is was manifestly gathered in such a way as to enable the government authorities to justify their settled purpose to confiscate the property. It was the need of money that was important.

Nearly a century ago Cobbett, in his "History of the English Reformation," had found it almost impossible to select words quite strong enough to express his feeling with regard to the people who brought about the English reformation. His expressions were considered at that time as grossly exaggerated and the result of his tendency to use strong language. In our time they still remain radical in mode, but most writers now agree as to the essential truth of the facts on which they are based. When it is recalled that millions of people have for centuries thought of the Reformation as one of the greatest blessings to mankind and the source of nearly every good that we have in the modern time, it is indeed startling to read Cobbett's words, yet Cobbett had made a special study of his subject, he was a great practical-minded investigator, who knew his historical sources well, who had gone directly to them and who had been shocked by the difference between ordinary impressions as fostered for religious and political purposes by historians and the realities that he found. No wonder that he burst forth in his strong way:

"The Reformation, as it is called, was (in England) engendered in beastly lust, brought forth in hypocrisy and {258} perfidy, and cherished and fed by plunder, devastation and rivers of innocent English and Irish blood."

Macaulay described the character of those who were most responsible for the change of religion, the so-called reformation in England, in words that are passing strange, considering that he himself would never think of submitting to "the yoke of Rome" and seems even to have felt that a great good had been accomplished, though by such vile means. He says, in his "Essay on Hallam's Constitutional History," that the reformers were:

"A king whose character may be described best by saying that he was despotism itself personified; unprincipled ministers; a rapacious aristocracy; a servile parliament. Such were the instruments by which England was delivered from the yoke of Rome. The work which had been begun by Henry, the murderer of his wives, was continued by Somerset, the murderer of his brother, and completed by Elizabeth, the murderer of her guest."

Some of the most unworthy motives and adjuvants were mixed up in the reform movement. Indeed, it is possible to collect from non-Catholic sources more bitter excoriations of the men who made the Reformation possible than with regard to almost any group of men who accomplished any other purpose in history. Frederic Harrison, for instance, said: "It is not to be denied that the origin of the (English) Establishment is mixed up with plunder, jobbery and intrigue, that stands out even in the tortuous annals of the sixteenth century; that the annals run black with red, along some of the blackest and reddest pages of royal tyranny and government corruption."

Andrew Lang quotes Professor F. York Powell in a description of how the reformation in Scotland was brought about in language that is, if possible, stronger than this of Frederic Harrison: "The whole story of Scottish Reformation, hatched in purchased treason and outrageous intolerance, carried on in open rebellion and ruthless persecution, justified only in its indirect results, is perhaps as sordid and disgusting a story as the annals of any European country can show."

Almost needless to say, though the Reformation was a {259} religious movement and therefore might be expected to be intimately associated with personal holiness on the part of its leaders, probably no one would think for a moment of suggesting the title of saint for any of those whose names are most prominent in the movement. To John Wesley, who came two centuries and a half later, the name saint might readily be attributed. He was one of those kindly characters, thoughtful for others, thoughtless of himself, thoughtful especially of the poor, whose personal winningness meant much for his cause. The reformers of the sixteenth century, however, were egoistic leaders of men, with the self-consciousness of a great purpose and determination to put that through regardless of the suffering of others involved in it. There was little that was sympathetic about them, though all of them had certain compelling qualities of mind but not of heart which won men to them. Saintliness of character, in the ordinary acceptation of the word, would scarcely be thought of even distantly in connection with them. All of them were fighters, and if others suffered in the conflict they cared little, for they felt that they were in the right and must do the work of the Lord cost what it might. It is no wonder that in our own time Professor Briggs of the Union Theological Seminary, New York, whose own religious experience must have been so illuminating for him, reviewing the Reformation period, has suggested that there were other and more saintly reformers alive at this time whose influence unfortunately was not strong enough to turn the tide of revolution once it had begun.

In an article in the Independent (New York) entitled "How May We Become More Truly Catholic," Professor Briggs said:

"There were other and in some respects greater reformers in the sixteenth century than the more popular heroes Luther, Zwingli and Calvin. Sir Thomas More, the greatest jurist of his time, Lord Chancellor of England, a chief leader of reform before Cranmer, resigned his exalted position and went to the block rather than recognize the supremacy of the King in ecclesiastical affairs; a true knight, a martyr to the separation of civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Erasmus, {260} the greatest scholar of his age, regarded by many as the real father of the Reformation, the teacher of the Swiss reformers, was unwilling to submerge learning and morals in an ocean of human blood. He urged reformation, not revolution. He has been crucified for centuries in popular Protestant opinion as a political time-server, but undoubtedly he was the most comprehensive reformer of them all.

"John von Staupitz, doctor of theology, and Vicar-General of the German Augustinians, the teacher of Luther and his counsellor in the early stages of his reform, a man without a stain and above reproach, a Saint in the common estimation of Protestant and Catholic alike, the best exponent of the piety of his age, was an Apostle of Holy Love and good works, which he would not sacrifice in the interests of the Protestant dogma of justification by faith only. These three immortals who did not separate themselves from the Roman Catholic Church, who remained in the Church to patiently carry on the work of reform therein--these three were the irenic spirits, the heroic representatives of all that was truly Catholic, the beacons of the greater reformation that was impending."

FILIPPINO LIPPI, MADONNA WITH FOUR SAINTS

This position taken by Professor Briggs has come to be more and more recognized as the true one from the historical standpoint in recent years. What has been called the Reformation had in it so many unfortunate political elements that its force for good was frittered away by the abuses inevitably connected with political associations. The counter-reformation, which represented the reaction from the religious revolt of the early sixteenth century, carried with it the truer spirit of Christianity and gradually gathered round it those forces for culture, social uplift and political liberty which mean most for the benefit of mankind and which thrived so well under the fostering care of Christianity. It is only with the breaking up of the ideas and institutions fostered by the reformers that modern progress along these lines has come. Protestantism hurt art, sadly hampered education, ruined architecture, shackled philosophy, discouraged scholarship and, above all, destroyed educational and humanitarian foundations for mere personal profit, and took away the incentive for true charity, its doctrine of salvation by faith only obliterating {261} the divine significance of good works. In the Appendix, some of these points are emphasized by quotations from well-known authorities, who have summed up various phases of Reformation influence. These writers, though themselves in sympathy with the reform movement in its ideals, see its evil effects and lament them.

CHAPTER VI

GREAT EXPLORERS AND EMPIRE BUILDERS

Columbus was not the first great successful explorer of this century that we have called by his name. Many daring navigators, particularly during the half century preceding the discovery of America, had braved the perils of the ocean, so literally trackless for them, in order to add to man's knowledge. A great stimulus to the spirit of navigation and exploration came with the rediscovery of the Cape Verde Islands by the Portuguese in 1447. Men dared after this to sail with the definite purpose of finding hitherto unknown land, and their bravery was rewarded in 1460 by the discovery of Sierra Leone. Prince Henry of Portugal then realized that the future of his country, hemmed in as it was in Europe, would largely depend upon the success of her navigators. He gathered together and systematized all the knowledge obtainable in nautical matters, and well deserves the name of Henry the Navigator. It was under his inspiration that the coast of Africa and the Senegal and the Gambia were explored. Probably no one more than he helped to remove the imagined terrors of the deep and gave men courage to venture ever farther and farther in exploration. His great purpose was the spread of Christianity, and to this he brought every incentive from patriotism and every possible help that could be obtained from science in any way. His name gloriously opened Columbus' Century.

It is possible that the old tradition that Henry established a college of navigation and even, as some have declared, an astronomical observatory at Sagres, near Cape St. Vincent, with the special purpose of making observations on the declination of the sun so as to secure more accurate nautical tables, may be a pious exaggeration of ardent admirers. Undoubtedly, however, he did a great deal for the scientific {263} development of navigation and established a tradition that was well followed in Portugal. John II of Portugal appointed a commission on navigation consisting of Roderick and Joseph, his physicians, and Martin of Bohemia. They invented the astrolabe, though the cross staff continued to be used for some time by navigators and was one of the few instruments possessed by Columbus and Vasco da Gama. Martin Cortez described the astrolabe and shows how much more convenient it is than the cross staff for taking altitudes.

During the latter part of Columbus' Century, the Portuguese made a series of magnificent discoveries. In 1486 King John II appointed Bartholomew Dias as the head of an expedition whose purpose was to sail around the southern end of Africa. Henry the Navigator had been attracted by the story of Prester John, the legendary Christian king of Abyssinia, who was said to rule over a large part of Africa. The Christian monarchs of the West hoped to get in touch with him. Recent reports had arrived apparently confirmatory of the tradition, and the Portuguese under King John wanted to enter into friendly relations with them. Dias sailed in 1487, reached the mouth of the Congo, which had been discovered the year before, followed the African coast, entered Walfisch Bay and erected a column near the present Angra Pequeña. He was driven by a storm then far to the south, but after the storm sailed easterly and, turning northward, he landed in Mossel Bay. He followed the coast as far as Algoa Bay and the Great Fish River. On his return he discovered the cape and gave it the name of Cabo Tormentoso (Stormy, Dangerous Cape), but on his arrival home King John proposed the name it still bears--the Cape of Good Hope--with the desire apparently of dissipating, if not its dangers, at least the dread of them that so filled men's minds. After this it was a comparatively easy matter to reach India, at least Dias had shown the way, and the problem which had occupied Prince Henry of joining the East and the West, so that the peoples might learn to exchange their riches, the costly materials of the East and the religious treasures of the West, was solved.

The great Portuguese Empire in India is an example of {264} empire building under the most difficult circumstances, which shows the energy and the enterprise, the courage and the successful achievement of the men of this period. India was a very long distance from Portugal in those days. To think of sending out a colony, the men for which had to make the long voyage around the Cape of Good Hope with all its dangers, was a daring thought reaching almost to hardihood. In the course of a single generation, however, that empire became a wonderful source of added power and income to the mother country. Bartholomew Dias more than any other accomplished this for Portugal, but there were a large number of men of bravery and high administrative ability who helped in the work. Portugal had the advantage at this time of producing a supremely great poet, Camöens, who could celebrate the work of his fellow-countrymen and immortalize the story of their achievement. Nearly always the poet comes when a work worthy of his genius has been accomplished. India proved to be a school of courage and enterprise for the Portuguese of that generation, which lifted a little country (the smallest of Europe) to almost the highest plane of influence and greatness.

While Columbus' great discovery has overshadowed the work of all the other explorers and navigators in the Western Ocean at this time, it must not be forgotten that during this century a large number of hardy, heroic men, with a determination not due to ignorance or to mere foolhardiness, but with purposes as sincere and courage as high as our Arctic explorers, accomplished wonderful results in the enlargement of human knowledge of the Western Continent and its inhabitants and varied products. Even before Columbus himself had reached the American continent, Amerigo Vespucci as well as the two Cabots had already touched it. Vespucci's biographers insist that his first voyage to America was made in 1497 and that he coasted along the northern shore of South America and into the Gulf of Mexico, returning to Spain November 15, 1498. It was in this latter year that Columbus first touched the mainland. In 1499 Vespucci went out with a second fleet and, keeping his former course, he succeeded in reaching the mouth of the Orinoco River, and returned {265} to Cadiz in 1500. He made a third voyage in 1501 and reached as far south as 52° of latitude, having coasted the South American shore from 5° south latitude to within 4° of Cape Horn. The fourth voyage was undertaken the next year, and on this Vespucci explored portions of the coast of Brazil. While it is usually said, and it must be confessed with some justification, that Columbus was deprived of what may be considered his proper privilege as first discoverer in not having the continent of America named after him, there is no doubt that Vespucci deserved highly of mankind for his daring explorations and his expert seamanship and hardy navigation. The scientific world owes him still more for the publication of his maps and detailed description of the American coast. These served to spread widely definite knowledge with regard to the new continent. Above all others, with the single exception of Columbus, even if that exception must be made, he deserved to have the Continent named after him. [Footnote 23]

[Footnote 23: The news of Amerigo Vespucci's discovery seems to have spread rapidly throughout Europe and his writings became familiar within a few years to a much greater number of people than we would think possible in the limited means of communication at the time. In discussing "The Four Elements," the Morality Play, in the chapter on English Literature lines are quoted to show that the play was written within twenty years of the discovery of America. Ordinarily it would be assumed that this would mean Columbus' discovery in 1492, but the whole passage shows that the reference was to Amerigo's, in Latin Americus', discovery of the Continent. The complete passage is:

While we are not likely to think of the Italians as a seafaring people, Columbus himself is an Italian, so was Amerigo Vespucci, but still more remarkable the other greatest navigators of the first half of Columbus' Century, the Cabots, were also of Italian origin. John and Sebastian Cabot were Venetians, settled at Bristol, and they reached the continent of {266} North America in 1498 and sailed for a considerable distance along it. It was on their discoveries that England based its claims to the North American portion of the hemisphere. Their merits as bold and fearless, yet intelligent, navigators have rightly been given the highest recognition. Owing to their connection with North America, we have known much more about them than about many of the others who ventured to make long, perilous voyages of discovery about this time.

The great Portuguese discoverers after Bartholomew Dias are Vasco da Gama (c. 1460-1524) and Magellan (1470-1521), almost exactly his contemporary. Vasco da Gama, who had proved his intrepidity as a mariner often before, was entrusted with the fleet of four vessels sent out by the Portuguese in July, 1497, in order to determine whether the story of Bartholomew Dias, that it was possible to sail around the continent of Africa and thus reach India, was true or not. He touched at St. Helena Bay, rounded the Cape of Good Hope and on the 20th of May, 1498, arrived at Calcutta on the Malabar coast. On his return he was magnificently received by the King, and three years later he was sent out with a larger expedition which took possession of India and created the Portuguese Indian Empire. At this time, in spite of rich rewards, he was evidently distrusted by the King, who apparently feared his ambition, and for twenty years he lived in retirement. After that he was called from his seclusion and created Viceroy of India. Unfortunately, his career as Viceroy lasted but a few months, yet even in that short time he had succeeded in correcting many abuses and reestablishing firmly Portuguese authority in India. Da Gama had the good fortune to be celebrated in an immortal epic by Camöens, and it is the tribute of the great poet almost more than his own achievement that has given him high distinction among the many great navigators of his time.

One of the greatest of the explorers of this time was undoubtedly Da Gama's compatriot and contemporary, Ferdinand Magellan. He had been in the service of the king of Portugal, but as his services were unappreciated he went over to the king of Spain and succeeded in persuading the Spanish Government that the Spice Islands could be reached by {267} sailing to the West. The Portuguese had previously reached them by sailing East. Magellan's idea was to find some mode of getting through or around the American continent so as to sail into the great South Sea. He reached the land to which he gave the name of Patagonia, where he noted the presence of men of huge size. South of this he succeeded in finding a passage which he called San Vittoria Strait, but which has come much more properly to be known since as the Straits of Magellan. He shed tears of joy, as Pigafetti who was with him on the expedition tells, when he beheld the immense expanse of the new ocean. He found it so placid that he gave it the name it has borne ever since, the Pacific Ocean. For nearly four months he sailed on the Pacific without seeing any inhabited land. His sailors were compelled to eat even the skin and leather wherewith their rigging was bound and to drink water which had become putrid. It required super-human courage and perseverance to continue the expedition, but Magellan did so. He touched at the Ladrone Islands, but unfortunately he was killed shortly after his vessels reached the Spice Islands, it is presumed by the natives, though perhaps by his own men, who dreaded his intensity of purpose to circumnavigate the globe and feared that it would carry them once more through similar awful sufferings to those which they had experienced in the voyage through the Pacific Ocean.

His lieutenant, Sebastian de Elcano, directed his course from the Moluccas to the Cape of Good Hope, but did not reach it until he had gone through hardships almost as severe as those suffered in the Pacific. He lost twenty-one of his men, but succeeded in getting back to Seville just about three years and one month after they had sailed from that port. They had accomplished, however, one of the greatest achievements in the history of the race. They had circumnavigated the globe and proved beyond all doubt that by sailing westward one might come round to where one started. It is interesting to know that Magellan's lieutenant, Sebastian, received high honors and armorial bearings, with the globe of the world belted by the inscription, "You were the first to go round me" (Primus circumdedisti me). Spain made many claims {268} to lands discovered on this expedition and it added notably to the extent of the Spanish Empire.

The French scarcely more than the Italians are thought of as great navigators. We are likely to reserve that designation for the Spaniards, Portuguese and English, yet next in point of priority at this time there are records of some magnificent French accomplishments in navigation. We have an account of a voyage by Paulmier de Gonneville, a French priest, the evidence for which rests on a judicial statement made before the Admiralty in France, July 19, 1505. De Gonneville called the large island that he discovered Terre Australe, so that for a long time it was thought that he was the first to touch Australia. The description that he gives, however, of the people and the products of the country evidently applies to some northern island of the Indian Ocean and not to the great southern continent. There is good reason to think, however, that in this voyage important discoveries were made. A little later in the century, Verrazano, an Italian in charge of a French expedition which sailed along the coast of North America, entered the harbor of New York, sailed up the Hudson River and landed an expedition on Manhattan Island, where in 1524 a religious service, probably the Mass as Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix suggested, was celebrated. Bennett's discussion of the matter in his "Catholic Footsteps in Old New York" (New York, 1910) leaves little doubt of the fact.

Two Spanish expeditions probably reached Australia during the first half of the sixteenth century. The first of these was under Alvar de Saavedra, who was sent out by Cortez. Cortez, having settled himself in Mexico, wished to get in touch with the East, and especially the Spice Islands, and it was he who despatched Saavedra, who was a relative. There is some doubt as to whether this navigator did not touch New Guinea rather than Australia, but there is no question but that he navigated across the Pacific Ocean as early as 1528. In 1542 Bernard della Torre is reported to have landed on the Australian continent, and critical analysis of his description of the natives and of the conditions that he found there puts his discovery beyond all doubt.

The men who were leaders of expeditions to the newly discovered countries at this time were all of them distinguished for bravery, and most of them for high administrative ability and a talent for government and the management of men which stamp them as among the world's geniuses. In our time much has been said of the ability of such a man as Cecil Rhodes and what he accomplished as an empire builder in South Africa. Considering the difference of circumstances, the lack of means of communication, the immense distances that had to be traversed and the dangers encountered, there are at least three men of Columbus' Century who have gained a place in history such as Cecil Rhodes will never have. The qualities exercised were of the same kind, but of much higher order, because requiring more independent activity and the most absolute self-reliance. What Vasco da Gama did in India for the Portuguese, Cortes in Mexico and Pizarro in Peru for the Spaniards represent achievements in empire building that have deservedly given these men an undying name in history. There were unfortunate abuses in the work. There always are whenever a savage race is brought under the dominance of what is at least supposed to be a more civilized people. There always are, even in the heart of our modern civilization, whenever one class of people can with impunity take advantage of another.

The work of these men is perhaps best illustrated by short sketches of the careers of Cortes and Pizarro. Cortes, sent as a boy to the University of Salamanca, found that he had no liking for study and that his restless spirit could not be satisfied with an education and the career of law which his parents destined him for. He joined an expedition that brought him to the Antilles at the age of nineteen, and soon showed the qualities of daring and military aptitude that made him a favorite with his superiors in the service. As a consequence, he was named as commander in the expedition to Mexico. He had solved the Indian method of warfare by decoy and ambush and turned it against the Indians themselves. He soon became noted for the almost lightning-like celerity, as it seemed to his opponents, of his movements. When the Governor of the Antilles, suspecting Cortes of {270} personal ambitious designs, sent an expedition against him, he captured its commander by a surprise, though he himself had only one-quarter of the force that his opponent mustered. Against overwhelming odds he succeeded in conquering the Mexicans and establishing Spanish dominion throughout the country.

While his conquest was disfigured by many of the unfortunate evils that so often have characterized such events in history, Cortes was not unkind to the Indians and he endeavored in every way to improve their condition and lift them up to a higher plane of civilization. Even Las Casas mentions him favorably and, while his kind treatment of the Indians is sometimes said to have been part of a deep-laid plan to use his power over them for selfish reasons and even for treason against the Spanish Crown, this explanation seems far-fetched. Cortes knew how easily his position could be undermined at court and, above all, he knew the fate of many of the men who had accomplished great things for Spain and of the readily comprehensible suspicions that were likely to attach to a man who had made so great a success as his. He was of an independent character and used expressions which indicated that he would not submit to the treatment that had been dealt out to others. It is not surprising, then, that after a time he was excluded from the government of Mexico and had to look elsewhere for further occupation for his restless ambition. He was allowed to join the great expedition against Algiers in 1541, but after its disastrous end did not long survive the failure. Cortes could write well, and has written the accounts of his own achievements, and these have been published in a number of editions, with translations into many languages. They show that he was a clear-headed man of great ability in an intellectual and literary sense, as well as for administration, and, while colored quite naturally in his own favor, they are valuable sources for history.

Pizarro, filius nullius, with his fortune to make, everything to gain and nothing to lose, set sail at the age of twenty-eight with Alonzo de Ojeda from Spain. After many hardships he attached himself to Balboa, and accompanied him across the Isthmus of Panama in the expedition which discovered the {271} Pacific. After Balboa's death he followed the fortunes of Pedrarias, the governor of the region. Hearing of the achievements of Cortes in Mexico and the reports of the riches of the countries lying along the shore of the Pacific Ocean to the south, he organized an expedition to conquer them. Their project seemed so utterly rash and foolhardy, without any prospects of success, that the people of Panama called those who had joined the expedition "the company of lunatics." In spite of every discouragement, Pizarro continued his preparations, and after eighteen months returned to Panama with an abundance of gold and glowing accounts of the wealth of the countries he had visited. The Governor, jealous of his success, withdrew his support and refused to allow him to continue his explorations.

Pizarro then crossed the ocean to Charles V, laid his information and plans before him and Charles, recognizing his ability and the probable success of his project, conferred on him the Order of the Knighthood of St. James and made him Governor and Captain-General, with absolute authority, in all the territories he might discover and subjugate. His orders could be reviewed only by the Royal Council in Spain. Armed with this authority, Pizarro proceeded to add the empire of Peru to that of Charles V, then ruling over more of Europe than anyone since the time of the Roman Emperors. The romantic story of this achievement and of Pizarro's assassination have often attracted the attention of dramatists, writers of fiction, as well as historians. There is no doubt at all of the magnificent daring, the political talent, nor the administrative ability of the man who succeeded in doing this in spite of obstacles that looked absolutely unsurmountable. This was accomplished by the free use of treachery, breaking of faith, as well as taking advantage in every way of the natives, but empire builders at all times have had such elements in them. Pizarro is no worse than modern conquerors, and in many respects is far better. The stories of India, Egypt and Africa will look quite as bad before the bar of history as that of Peru.

Our own great task of exploration and of colonization and conquest during the past hundred years has been the opening {272} up of Africa and the finding of the North and South Poles. The opening up of Africa represents a really great extension of civilization, and doubtless will hold an important place in history. It is more than doubtful, however, if our colonizers and conquerors will be dealt with any more generously in history, or placed on a higher plane of fellow-feeling for the natives, than the colonizers and conquerors of Columbus' Century. The slave trade had been abolished early in the nineteenth century, and yet there has been the feeling many times during the past hundred years that the natives of South Africa were being abused almost as in the days of slavery, and that even the natives of South America under European influence in certain places were little better than slaves. Indeed, the whole attitude of mind of the modern time with regard to the early conquerors has had very interesting light thrown on it by investigations, which showed that in many states of our own country there was a system of employing ignorant labor that could only be characterized as slavery.

After recalling the "spheres of influence" of the different nations and the mode in which South Africa has been parcelled out without any regard for the native inhabitants or their rights in the question, it becomes clear that the world, for all its complacent condemnation of the men of the older time, has not changed a particle since Columbus' Century. The two Latin nations, the Spaniards and the Portuguese, were the conquerors and colonizers in the early sixteenth century. The Teutonic nations, England and Germany, because they had replaced Spain and Portugal as the leading commercial countries, did the work in the later nineteenth. The differences between the modes of action and the general conduct of affairs at the two periods are very slight when compared to the close similarities of motive and purpose. Nations at both periods were looking for a region by which they could enrich themselves, and explorers and colonists and pioneers who went out were actuated by just the same motives at both times. Indeed, it is very doubtful whether we have point for point accomplished anything like so much good for the natives as the Spaniards tried to do, and as we have seen in the {273} chapter on Columbus' Century in America, often with striking success.

After all, it must not be forgotten that there are more Indians alive in Mexico and in South America now than when Columbus landed. It has been impossible as yet to lift the natives up to the high plane of civilization of their European invaders, which has been reached only after many centuries of training, but undoubtedly much has been done. In many of these countries even the natives are nearly ready for self-government, and the countries with the handicap of their mixed races are, considering all the conditions, as prosperous as we are, and visitors often declare their upper classes possessed of a higher state of culture than ours. President Taft, after thorough practical experience in the Philippines, declared that the natives were on the high road to readiness for self-government and that they represent the only example of a people who, invaded by civilized conquerors and colonists, had been gradually lifted out of their barbarism on to a higher and higher plane. The beginning of this accomplishment came in Columbus' Century. It is only by comparing what our own and that century did in the solution of similar problems that we can get any idea of how admirable in many ways is the work of the earlier period. If at the end of the next century the natives of Africa shall fare as well as those of South America and the Philippines, the comparison will be more satisfactory.

Our problem of adventurous navigation in the nineteenth century has been the discovery of the North and South Poles. We have succeeded in our purpose, but not without much sacrifice of treasure and men and much suffering. For many people in our time the finding of the Poles has seemed merely a quixotic undertaking, and, as a matter of fact, there has been no great practical purpose in it. The voyages of the navigators of the early sixteenth century must have seemed just as quixotic, though after any successful voyage the fruits of the expedition, in a commercial as well as a scientific and cultural way, could be readily appreciated. When we estimate the difference between the small sailing vessels of that time and the utter lack of facilities for the storage and {274} preservation of food as well as the dangers of the literally trackless ocean, some idea of the bravery of these hardy adventurers can be appreciated. Our steam vessels, with preserved foods and medicines usually available and the understanding of the dangers that they are to meet, has made our voyages comparatively simple, yet we have felt the inspiration of accomplishment. Columbus' Century is almost infinitely higher in the place that must be accorded to it for the spirit and the number of the men who ventured upon long voyages from which so many never returned and on which all trace was absolutely lost of many and many a vessel. In spite of the losses, there was never any dearth of men to take up the work of exploration and conquest, and their success revolutionized modern history.