CHAPTER III.
HAMILTON PREPARES HIMSELF IN GERMANY FOR THE REFORMATION OF SCOTLAND.
(Spring, Summer, Autumn, 1527.)
At the time of Hamilton’s arrival on the Continent, the germ of the Reformation of Scotland already lay in his heart. His association with the doctors of Germany would prove the identity of this great spiritual movement, which everywhere was overthrowing the same abuses, and bringing anew to the surface the same truths. In which direction should the young Christian hero of Scotland now turn his footsteps? All his ambition was to go to Wittenberg, to hear Luther, Melanchthon, and the other reformers; but circumstances led him to go first to Marburg. This town lay on his way, and a renowned printer, Hans Luft, was then publishing there the works of Tyndale. In fact, on May 8, 1527, at the moment of Patrick’s arrival on the Continent, there appeared at Marburg the Parable of the Wicked Mammon; and seven months later, December 11, Luft published The Veritable Obedience of a Christian Man. But Hamilton flattered himself that he should find at Marburg something more than Tyndale’s writings—Tyndale himself. English evangelical works had at that time to get printed in Germany, and, as far as possible, under the eye of the author. The young Scotchman had hopes then of meeting at Marburg the translator of the New Testament, the reformer of England, and even Fryth, who might be with him. One reason more positive still influenced Hamilton. He was aware that Lambert d’Avignon, the one man of all the reformers whose views most nearly approached those which prevailed afterwards in Scotland, had been called to Marburg by the landgrave. Philip of Hesse himself was the most determined, the most courageous of all the Protestant princes. How many motives were there inclining him to stay in that town! An extraordinary circumstance decided the young Scotchman. The landgrave, defender of piety and of letters,[39] was about to found there the first evangelical university, ‘for the restoration of the liberal sciences.’[40] Its inauguration was fixed to take place on May 30. Hamilton and his friends might arrive in time. They bent their course towards Hesse, and reached the banks of the Lahn.
UNIVERSITY OF MARBURG.
At the time of their arrival the little town was full of unaccustomed movement. Undiverted by this stir, Hamilton hastened to find out the Frenchman whose name had been mentioned to him and other learned men who were likely also to be at Marburg. He found the sprightly, pious, and resolute Lambert, an opponent, like the landgrave, of half-measures, and a man determined to take action in such wise that the Reformation should not be checked halfway. The young abbot of the North and the aged monk of the South thus met, understood each other, and soon lived together in great familiarity.[41] Lambert said to him that the hidden things had been revealed by Jesus Christ; that what distinguishes our religion from all others is the fact that God has spoken to us; that the Scriptures are sufficient to make us perfect. He did not philosophize much, persuaded that by dint of philosophizing one swerves from the truth. He set aside with equal energy the superstition which invents a marvellous mythology, and the incredulity which denies divine and supernatural action. ‘Everything which has been perverted [déformé] must be reformed [réformé],’ said Lambert, ‘and all reform which proceeds otherwise than according to the Word of God, is nothing.[42] All the inventions of human reason are, in the matter of religion, nothing but trifling and rubbish.’
The commotion which then prevailed amongst the population of Marburg was occasioned by the approaching inauguration of the university founded by the landgrave. On May 30 the chancellor presided at that ceremony. No school of learning had ever been founded on such a basis; one must suppose that the union which ought to exist between science and faith was in this case unrecognized. There is nothing in Hamilton’s writings to show that in this matter he shared the opinions of Lambert. With great evangelical simplicity as to the faith, the Scotchman had rather, in his manner of setting it forth, a metaphysical, speculative tendency, which is a marked feature of the Scottish mind. The principles which were to characterize the new university were these: ‘The Holy Scriptures,’ says a document of Marburg which has been preserved, ‘ought to be purely and piously interpreted, and no one who fails to do so is to teach in the school. From the science of law must be cut off everything which is either unchristian or impious.[43] It is not mere scholars who are to be appointed in the faculties of law, of medicine, of the sciences, and of letters, but men who shall combine with science the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures and piety.’
SCIENCE AND FAITH.
Thus we see that the opposition between science and faith was already attracting attention, and the landgrave settled the question by excluding science and those learned in it, since they were not in agreement with the Scriptures; just as in other ages men would have theology and theologians set aside, since they were not in agreement with human learning. No one ought to teach in the schools of theology except in conformity with the Scriptures of God, the supreme authority in the Church. To disregard this principle is to take in hand to destroy the flock of God. The fanaticism of the School, however, cannot justify the fanaticism of the Church. It is a grave matter to banish science on account of the dangers to which it exposes us. To exclude the fire from the hearth for fear of conflagration would not be reasonable; far better to take the precautions which good sense points out for preventing the evil. If science and faith are to advance together without peril, it can only be brought about by the intervention of the moral principle. The existence of so-called freethinkers arises from a moral decay; certain excesses of an exaggerated orthodoxy may perhaps proceed from the same cause. A presumptuous and passionate haste, affirming and denying to the first comer, is a grave fault. How many times has it happened that some law, some fact proclaimed by science at one period as sufficient to convict the Scriptures of error, has had to be given up soon after by science herself as a mistake. But let religious men be on their guard against the indolence and the cowardice which would lead them to repulse science, out of fear lest she should remain mistress of the field of battle. By so doing they would deprive themselves of the weapons most serviceable for the defence of their treasures as well as of the most fitting occasions for spreading them abroad. Lambert did not go to such a length; but he was persuaded that unless a breath divine, coming from on high, give life to academical teaching, the university would be nothing more than a dead mechanism, and that science, instead of propagating a healthy and enlightened cultivation, would only darken and pervert men’s minds. This is surely a very reasonable and very practical thought, and it is to be regretted that it has not always regulated public instruction.
After the delivery of the inaugural discourses, the rector, Montanus, professor of Civil Law, opened the roll of the university, to enter in it the names of its members. Professors, pastors, state functionaries, nobles, foreigners, students, one hundred and ten persons in all, gave their names. The first to sign was the rector, the second was Lambert; then came Adam Crato, professor Ehrard Schnepf, one of the first Germans converted by Luther, Enricius Cordus, who had accompanied Luther to Worms, and Hermann von dem Busche, professor of Poetry and Eloquence. In a little while three young men of foreign aspect approached. The first of them signed his name thus: Patricius Hamilton, a Litgovien, Scotus, magister Parisiensis;[44] his two friends signed after him.
From that time the Frenchman and the Scotchman frequently studied the Holy Scriptures together, and with interest always new. The large acquaintance with the Word of God which Hamilton possessed, astonished Lambert: the freshness of his thoughts and of his imagination charmed him; the integrity of his character inspired a high esteem for him; his profound remarks on the Gospel edified him. A short time after this, the Frenchman, speaking to the landgrave Philip, said:—‘This young man, of the illustrious family of the Hamiltons, which is closely allied, by the ties of blood, to the king and the kingdom of Scotland,[45] who although hardly twenty-three years of age, brings to the study of Scripture a very sound judgment, and has a vast store of knowledge, is come from the end of the world, from Scotland, to your academy, in order to be more fully established in God’s truth. I have hardly ever met a man who expresses himself with so much spirituality and truth on the Word of the Lord.’ Such is the testimony given in Germany, by a Frenchman, to the young reformer of Scotland.
LUTHER’S ILLNESS.
Will Hamilton remain at Marburg? Shall he not see Luther, Melanchthon, and the other doctors of the Reformation? It has been generally supposed that he did go to Wittenberg; but there is no evidence of this, either in the University registers or in Luther’s or Melanchthon’s letters. This tradition, therefore, appears to us to be unfounded. As Hamilton had, however, formed the intention of visiting Luther when he left Scotland, what motive led him to relinquish his design? It was this. Early in July, at the very time when the young Scotchman might have gone to Wittenberg, a report was spread abroad that Luther had suddenly fallen ill. On July 7 he had lost the use of his senses, his body lay motionless, the heart scarcely beating, while his wife and his weeping friends stood round the bed, on which he was stretched as if dead. He came to himself, however, and, persuaded that he was at the point of death,[46] he resigned himself entirely to the hand of God and prayed with much fervency. At the same time the report ran in Germany that the plague was raging at Wittenberg. When Luther had recovered a little strength, he wrote to Spalatin:—‘May the Lord have pity on me and not forsake his sinner!’[47] Soon after, he had fresh attacks. ‘Ah,’ said he to his friends, ‘people fancy, because joy usually brightens my countenance, that I walk on roses, but God knows how rugged life is for me!’ One day, when Jonas had come to take supper with him, Luther, feeling ill during the meal, suddenly rose, and after taking a few steps fell in a fainting fit. ‘Water, water,’ cried he, ‘or I die.’ As he lay on the bed, he lifted up his eyes and said: ‘O my beloved Lord, thou art master of life and of death, do as it pleaseth thee. Only remember that it is thou who didst bid me undertake this work, and that it is for thy truth, for thy Word, that I have fought.’
On the following day, at six o’clock in the evening, as Jonas again stood by the bedside of his friend, he heard him calling on the Lord, sometimes in German, sometimes in Latin. The thought that he had not done enough, nor suffered enough for his Saviour, distressed him. ‘Ah,’ said he, ‘I have not been judged worthy to shed my blood for the love of Christ, as several of my brethren have done.’ Presently a thought consoled him: ‘St. John the Evangelist also,’ said he, ‘had not that honor—he who nevertheless wrote a book (Apocalypse) against the papacy, far more severe than any that I could ever write.’[48] After that he had his little John brought to him, and looking at the mother of the boy, he said, ‘You have nothing; but God will provide for you.’
THE PLAGUE AT WITTENBERG.
The plague, as we have said, was at Wittenberg. Two persons died of it in Melanchthon’s house; one of his sons was attacked, and one of the sons of Jonas lost his life. Hans Luft, the printer of Marburg, who was at Wittenberg on business, fell ill, and his mind wandered.[49] He was removed to Marburg, where Hamilton was.
Terror became general at Wittenberg. All who could do so, and especially the students, quitted the town; the university was transferred to Jena. Luther pressed the elector to go thither with his family, but, he added, in such calamities pastors must bide at their post. He remained therefore, and Melanchthon, who was visiting the churches in Saxony, received orders to go to Jena and resume his lectures there. During this period Luther, having regained some little strength, was visiting the sick and consoling the dying. In the course of a few days he had about him eighteen dead, some of whom even expired almost in his arms.[50] He received into his house the poor, widows, orphans, and even the plague-stricken; his house become a hospital.[51] His wife and his son were attacked. ‘What conflicts!’ cried he, ‘what terrors! No matter; though the malady waste the body, the Word of God saves the soul.’ He again fell ill himself, and thinking that he was nigh to death, he wrote to Melanchthon: ‘Pray for me, vile and miserable worm. I have only one glory, and that is that I have taught purely the word of God.[52] He who has begun the work will complete it. I seek only Him; I thirst for nothing but his grace.’
Such, doubtless, were the circumstances which detained Hamilton at Marburg. On hearing that in consequence of the plague the courses of lectures had partly at least been transferred to Jena, he gave up Wittenberg; and thus is explained quite naturally the want of original documents respecting his alleged sojourn at the Saxon university. A very painful sacrifice was thus demanded of him. Lambert resolved to turn the disappointment to good account. Having a high idea of the faith, the judgment, and abilities of Hamilton, he begged him to compose some theses on the evangelical doctrine, and to defend them publicly. Everyone supported this request; for an academical solemnity, at which a foreign theologian belonging to the royal family of Scotland should hold the chief place, could not fail to throw a certain éclat over the new university. Hamilton consented.[53] His subject was quickly chosen. In his eyes a man’s religion was not sound unless it had its source in the Word of God and in the inmost experience of the soul which receives that Word, and is thereby led into the truth. He deemed it necessary to present the doctrine in this practical aspect, rather than to lose himself in the speculative theorems of an obscure scholasticism.
On the appointed day Hamilton entered the great hall of the university, in which were gathered professors, students, and a numerous audience besides. He announced that he was about to establish a certain number of truths respecting the law and the Gospel, and that he would maintain them against all comers. These theses, all of a practical character, had however somewhat of that dialectical spirit which distinguished at a subsequent period the philosophical schools of Scotland, and were drawn up in a pure and lapidary style which secures for this theologian of three-and-twenty a noteworthy place among the doctors of the sixteenth century.
HAMILTON’S THESES.
‘There is a difference, and even an opposition, between the law and the Gospel,’ said Hamilton. ‘The law showeth us our sin; the Gospel showeth us remedy for it. The law showeth us our condemnation; the Gospel showeth us our redemption. The law is the word of ire; the Gospel is the word of grace. The law is the word of despair; the Gospel is the word of comfort. The law is the word of unrest; the Gospel is the word of peace.[54] The law saith, Pay thy debt; the Gospel saith, Christ hath paid it. The law saith, Thou art a sinner—despair, and thou shalt be damned; the Gospel saith, Thy sins are forgiven thee: be of good comfort, thou shalt be saved. The law saith, Make amends for thy sins; the Gospel saith, Christ hath made it for thee. The law saith, The Father of heaven is angry with thee; the Gospel saith, Christ hath pacified him with his blood. The law saith, Where is thy righteousness, goodness, and satisfaction? the Gospel saith, Christ is thy righteousness, thy goodness, thy satisfaction. The law saith, Thou art bound and obliged to me, to the devil and to hell; the Gospel saith, Christ hath delivered thee from them all.’[55]
The attack began, and the defence of the young Master of Arts was as remarkable as his exposition. Even though he made use of the syllogism, he shook off the dust of the school, and put something perspicuous and striking in its place. When one opponent maintained that a man is justified by the law, Hamilton replied by this syllogism:—
‘That which is the cause of condemnation cannot be the cause of justification.
‘The law is the cause of condemnation.
‘Therefore the law is not the cause of justification.’
His phraseology, clear, concise, and salient—rare qualities in Germany, except perhaps in Luther—his practical, transparent, conscientious Christianity—struck the minds of his hearers. Certainly, said Lambert, Hamilton has put forward thoroughly Christian axioms, and has maintained them with a great deal of learning.[56]
Hamilton engaged in other public disputations besides this. As faith in Christ and justification by faith is the principle which distinguishes Protestantism from other Christian systems, he felt bound to establish the nature, importance, and influence of that doctrine. He believed that faith is born in a man’s heart when, as he hears or reads the Word of God, the Holy Spirit bears witness in his heart to the main truth which is found in it, and shows him with clear proof that Jesus is really an almighty Saviour. Faith was for the young Scotchman a divine work, which he carefully distinguished from a faith merely human. On this subject he laid down and defended the following propositions:—‘He who does not believe the Word of God, does not believe God himself. Faith is the root of all that is good; unbelief is the root of all evil. Faith makes friends of God and of man; unbelief makes enemies of them. Faith lets us see in God a father full of gentleness; unbelief presents him to us as a terrible judge. Faith sets a man steadfast on a rock; unbelief leaves him constantly wavering and tottering. To wish to be saved by works is to make a man’s self his saviour, instead of Jesus Christ. Wouldst thou make thyself equal with God? Wouldst thou refuse to accept the least thing from him without paying him the value of it?’
Fryth, who doubtless took part in the discussion, was so much struck with these theses that he translated them into English, and by that means they have come down to us. ‘The truths which Hamilton expounded are such,’ said he, ‘that the man who is acquainted with them has the pith of all divinity.’[57] ‘This little treatise is short,’ said others who listened to him, ‘but in effect it comprehendeth matter able to fill large volumes.’[58] Yes, Christ is the author of redemption, and faith is the eye which sees and receives him. There are only these two things: Christ sacrificed and the eye which contemplates him. The eye, it is true, is not man’s only organ; we have besides hands to work, feet to walk, ears to hear, and other members more for our service. But none of all these members can see, but only the eye.[59]
HAMILTON’S THESES.
In the midst of all these labors, however, Hamilton was thinking of Scotland. It was not of the benefices which had been conferred on him, not of St. Andrews, nor of the misty lochs or picturesque glens; it was not even of his family, or of his friends that he thought the most. What occupied his mind night and day was the ignorance and superstition in which his countrymen were living. What powerfully appealed to him was the necessity of giving glory to God and of doing good to his own people. And yet would it not be madness to return to them? Had he not seen the animosity of the Scottish clergy? Did he not know well the power of the primate Beatoun? Had he not, only six or seven months before, left his country in all haste? Why then these thoughts of returning? There was good reason for them. Hamilton had been fortified in spirit during his sojourn at Marburg; his faith and his courage had increased; by living with decided Christians, who were ready to give their lives for the Gospel, he had been tempered like steel and had become stronger. It could not be doubted that extreme peril awaited him in Scotland; his two friends, John Hamilton and Wynram, did not understand his impatience and were resolved to wait. But neither their example nor the urgency of Lambert could quench the ardor of the young hero. He felt the sorrow of parting with Lambert and of finally giving up the hope of seeing Luther and Melanchthon; but he had heard God’s call; his one duty was to answer to it. About the end of autumn 1527 he embarked with his faithful servant and sailed towards the shores of Caledonia.