A Christian Triumvirate.
A Christian triumvirate had been formed in these provinces. At the Hague, William Gnapheus, director of the Gynasium, was diffusing the Gospel in the midst of his pupils and his connections, substituting for false worship a living faith in Christ. A learned jurisconsult, Cornelius Hoen, an excellent man, says Erasmus, and John Rhodius, rector of the college of Utrecht, assisted him. They carried on their labors in common; and to them is attributed the translation of the New Testament into the vulgar tongue, which was published in 1523.[[759]] The necessity of an intimate union with Christ was a distinctive feature of the teaching of these three Dutchmen. ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ,’ said Hoen in 1521, ‘when announcing to his people the pardon of their sins, added a pledge to his promise, lest their faith should waver. Just as a bridegroom desirous of ratifying an engagement gives a ring to his bride and says to her, Take this, I give myself to thee; just as the bride receiving this ring believes that her husband is hers, turns her heart away from all other men, and desires only to please her husband; so also must he who receives the Supper, the precious pledge by which the Heavenly Bridegroom desires to testify that he gives himself to him, firmly believe that Christ[[760]] gave himself for him, and must consequently turn his heart from all that he has hitherto loved, and seek after Christ alone, must be anxious only about what pleases him and cast all his cares upon him. This is what is meant by eating the flesh of Christ and drinking his blood.’ These words did not completely satisfy Luther, but Zwinglius heartily approved them. The reformed symbol was early adopted in Holland. These three Dutchmen were peaceably disseminating the Gospel in their respective spheres, when a storm suddenly burst over them. Hoen and Gnapheus[[761]] were arrested and thrown into prison, without any trial of their cause.
These two men, no friends to noise or display, never speaking of themselves, intent on the duties of their calling, believing that the truth ought to be sown in peace, had never supposed that any danger could overtake them; and now, in the twinkling of an eye, they found themselves in a dungeon. They were astounded. ‘Every one knows,’ said Gnapheus,[[762]] ‘with what diligence I have always devoted myself to the instruction of the young, but without representing to them ceremonies as the essence of religion. This is my crime!’ After three months, the Count of Holland, who highly esteemed these excellent men, became bail for them. They were then removed to the Hague, and this town was assigned as their prison. Some time afterwards, Hoen fell asleep in peace; and Gnapheus, at the end of the second year, was set at liberty.
There were in the Netherlands men of more decided faith than the three humanists. At Groningen, where that pastor Frederick lived whom Erasmus proclaimed to be a second Augustine, the doctor of law, Abring, and the masters of arts, Timmermann, Pistoris, and Lesdrop, sharply attacked the papal monarchy. ‘We refuse,’ they said, ‘to the Roman pontiff that sword which is commonly assigned to him. Christ, when speaking of heretics, said, Beware of them;[[763]] but He did not say, Massacre and destroy them.[[764]] Christ gave to his Church teachers and not satraps.’ Thus spake, despising danger, these energetic doctors. Boldness was discretion and won the victory. But such cases were rare, especially in the southern portion of the Netherlands.
A Martyr.
The enemies of the Reformation seemed to be more thoroughly awake in the south than in the north. At Antwerp and in the surrounding districts there were (1524) a great number of people of every rank who began to relish that divine word which had been proclaimed by Spreng, Henry of Zutphen, and others. The preaching of a pious Augustine monk having been prohibited, those who longed for the light arranged to meet on Sundays near the Scheldt, at the place where ships were built, thinking that if men should hold their peace the very stones would cry out. The congregation was assembled, and there was no preacher; but, after some seconds, a young man, perhaps a seamen, rose. His name was Nicholas; and the word of God which he had received was warmly stirring in his heart. When he saw all these poor people gathered together in this lonely spot, ardently desiring good for their souls, and finding none, Nicholas remembered the five thousand who were without victuals in the desert.[[765]] He went to the margin of the river, stepped into a boat that he might be better heard by the multitude, and read that part of the Gospel which relates how Jesus fed the hungry ones. This word told him that the power of God was not tied to outward means; and that it is all one to him whether there be few or many to edify his people. In short, God so blessed his word that all those who heard it were satisfied.[[766]] The multitude standing on the bank, who had listened with sympathy, then dispersed. The report of this preaching having spread through the whole town, the enemies of the Reformation were very much enraged, and they resolved to get rid of Nicholas, but to do it clandestinely because they feared the people. The next day the plot was executed. A band of their accomplices came noiselessly upon the young man; two or three seized him, while others held a great sack. They forced Nicholas into it, bound the sack with a cord, then carried it to the river and threw it into the water.[[767]] Since he was fond of preaching on the Scheldt, let him do it now at his leisure! When the execution was accomplished, these wretches made a boast of it. This crime filled the hearts of honest men with terror; and the friends of the Gospel perceived the dangers which surrounded them.
More freedom was sometimes allowed to priests than to laymen. At Meltza, a place distant two German miles from Antwerp, an eloquent preacher made a spirited attack on Romish superstitions, without perhaps thoroughly comprehending evangelical doctrine. Hearers flocked to him in such multitudes that he had to preach in the fields. ‘We priests,’ said he, speaking one day of the mass, ‘we are worse than the traitor Judas. For Judas sold the Lord Jesus and delivered him up; while we, for our part, sell him indeed, but we do not deliver him over to you.’[[768]] People had for a long time been accustomed to these epigrams, and they were less dreaded than a serious and living word.
There were, moreover, in the ranks of the higher clergy of the Netherlands enlightened men who, without being on the side of the reformers, were preparing the way for the Reformation. Philip, bishop of Utrecht, was one of their number. He devoted the beginning of the day to prayer, and he liked especially in prayer to make use of the words of the Bible. He had read the sacred writings several times, and Erasmus boasted of his wisdom and the purity of his morals.[[769]] He was above all struck with the licentiousness occasioned by the celibacy of priests and monks, and expressed the hope that, within his lifetime, all compulsory celibacy would be abolished by the unanimous consent of bishops and priests.[[770]]
This did not fail to produce some impression. In Holland, Brabant, and Flanders, many monks and nuns quitted the convents. A large number of the inhabitants of these provinces embraced the reformed doctrine. Great meetings were held outside the town of Antwerp, in spite of the placards of Charles the Fifth. But it would have been an easier task to stop the sun’s rays than to prevent the light of the Gospel from penetrating into the hearts of men.
Unfortunately the evangelical work encountered adversaries of another kind. One day a man who came from the Netherlands presented himself to Luther, and said to him, in a tone at once emphatic and coarse—‘God, who created the heavens and the earth, sends me to thee.’ ‘One more!’ thought Luther; ‘all these famous men are pressed by the desire to break a lance with me! What do you want with me?’ he said to the Netherlander. ‘I request you,’ he replied, ‘to read to me the books of Moses.’ ‘And what sign have you,’ said the reformer, ‘that God sends you to me?’ ‘This sign is to be found in the Gospel according to St. John,’ said the Netherlander. Luther had enough of this. ‘Good,’ said he, ‘come again another time. The books of Moses are too long for me to find time just now to read them to you.’