Comparing the spouse of Christ with the spouse of a mortal husband, Erasmus dilates upon the vast superiority of the virgin state. If one is not willing to believe this from the evidence of learned men, let her
"call as a witness any one of those who are happily enough married and ask her to tell the true history of her marriage. You will hear things that will make you quite satisfied with your own way of life. Then just put before yourself the example of those who have married unhappily, of whom there is a vast multitude, and think that what has happened to them might have happened to you...."
This was written at the very time at which Erasmus was giving to the world the completed text of his Colloquies! How shall we explain these apparent contradictions? Precisely as we have explained the account of the monastic life in the De Contemptu Mundi.[182] Like that earlier essay, this too was a piece of literary display, written, not to rouse opposition, but out of a largely conventional impulse. We need not question for a moment the entire sincerity of Erasmus in this kind of composition, as far as it went. It was only the natural instinct of the man to counterbalance every opinion he uttered and every effect he produced by putting forth something on the other side of the same question—for every question has two sides. There were doubtless purely conducted monasteries, and Erasmus was bound to believe that the pleasant ladies who were kind enough to feed him with candy were examples to their kind. To suppose, however, that the phrases of ecstatic spiritual joy here offered came from very deep down in his heart of hearts would place the spirit of Erasmus in closer kinship with Bernard and à Kempis than we should quite like to put it.
During precisely these years, from 1522 to 1529, we have a great number of treatises, generally short, which illustrate this more devotional and spiritual phase of his literary activity. A characteristic specimen is the Modus Orandi Deum, "On the True Way of Prayer,"[183] addressed to Gerome à Lasco, a Polish baron and brother of the better-known John à Lasco. This is a systematic inquiry into the nature, the purpose, and the limitations of Christian prayer. It examines the questions: to whom we may pray, what we may properly pray for, and how our prayers should be framed. In regard to the first question, Erasmus discusses with great skill some of the most delicate problems of his day. He examines authorities on both sides as to the propriety of prayers to Christ and concludes:
"After diligently searching the sacred volumes, and supported by the authority of our fathers, I do not hesitate to call the Son of God true God and to direct my prayers to him, not with the idea that the Son could give what the Father may deny, but because I am persuaded that the Son wills the same and can do the same as the Father wills and can do;—though the Father is author and source of all things."
More difficult was the question of the invocation of saints. Erasmus works his way up to a conclusion by a series of carefully prepared stages. True, we ought to affirm dogmatically only such things as are plainly declared in the Holy Scriptures; but we ought to respect everything that has been handed down with the approval of pious men. Now we know that the invocation of saints was practised by very early orthodox Christians, therefore, while we cannot say that it is a necessary article of faith, we may well bear with it. We know that the saints when on earth were called upon to pray for other men; why suppose them less capable of praying for us now that they dwell with God in heaven?
As to the proper objects of prayer Erasmus makes a very elaborate analysis,[184] but brings everything round finally to the standard of the Lord's Prayer. The method is almost scholastic in its system and its logical division, but it is eminently sensible and practical in its content.
"We should pray for nothing that cannot be referred to one of the seven divisions of the Lord's Prayer. Whatever we may ask for which pertains to the glory of God, belongs to the first clause: 'Hallowed be thy name.' Whatever refers to the spread and realisation of the Gospel, belongs to the second: 'Thy kingdom come'; whatever to the observance of the divine teaching, to the third: 'Thy will be done,'" and so on.
To illustrate the folly of absurd distinctions as to which divinities might attend to which prayers, he tells a story of a certain man at Louvain, simple rather than impious, who, after he had made his devotions, used to run about among the various altars, saluting the saints for whom he had an especial liking, and saying: "This is yours, St. Barbara," and "Take this to yourself, St. Rochus," as if he feared that the saints would fall to fighting over the special prayers belonging to each.
A very modern, almost "evangelical" touch is found in a chapter on extempore prayer.