It is apparent now that the issue underlying all this upheaval was deeper than anyone then knew. The real struggle was not for the supremacy of Romanist or Protestant; not to determine whether this dogma or that was true and should prevail, but to establish the right of every human soul to choose its own faith and form of worship. The great battle for human liberty had commenced, and the Romish Church had been shaken to its foundations not because its doctrine was false, but because it was a despotism!
From the abdication of Charles V. to 1600 was a period of political tranquillity in Germany. The reign of two conciliatory sovereigns, Ferdinand I., and his son Maximilian II., tended to produce a surface-calm, which, although ruffled, was not broken by the stern and despotic reign of Rudolf II., who succeeded in 1576.
It was a half century of unfruitful and sullen waiting—waiting for a future which no one could divine. Protestantism was not blossoming; but the seed was germinating amid elements good and evil, strangely mingled together.
While the Reformation was the leading fact in Europe at this period, another event had created a new and pervading atmosphere, in which all else existed. The impulse given to civilization by the taking of Constantinople by the Turks (1452), and the consequent disseminating of Greek culture throughout Europe, was a transforming event in the history of civilization. Literature, art, music, took on new forms and thrilled with a new life. The activity of the human mind manifested itself in everything. It was an age of great men and great things. Copernicus, followed by Tycho Brahe, Galileo, and Kepler, brought order into the heavens. The Medici in Italy, who were guiding these new and enriching streams which had set in from the East, helped to produce a wonderful art period, which swept in successive tides over Europe. Fainting and sculpture reached their climacteric. Music, still in its infancy, developed into the new forms of opera and oratorio.[[1]] And while these things were happening, a mysteriously inspired man—seeming to hold as in a crucible the wisdom distilled from all ages and all human experiences—was writing immortal plays in England!
The Teuton race does not take on the graces of life very quickly. The serious and sincere German mind must inspect the idea first, and then become thoroughly imbued with it, before the hand will act! But when the Teuton roots do begin to draw upon the soil, they strike deep and hold firmly, and know just what they are going to do with the rising sap; concerning themselves much more about that than the foolish branches and leaves!
So this new light did not at once flood Germany, but its influence was felt there. Thought was quickened, knowledge increased, art and science began to flourish, wealth accumulated, and the people became less simple and more luxurious in their ways of living. The King of Spain was occupied in his hopeless attempt to subdue the Netherlands, and Hungary and Austria were still struggling with the Turkish invasion.
Such was the condition at the beginning of the seventeenth century. In spite of the material advance there was a feeling of impending misfortune. But the magnitude of the coming disaster none then could have imagined or dreamed.
The fatal circumstance was that the Protestants were divided into two angry and hostile camps, at the very time when the Catholics, under the teachings of the Jesuits, were uniting with solid front against them. The Thirty Years' War would never have been undertaken against a united adversary who held four-fifths of Germany!
During the despotic reign of Rudolf II. the Protestants for their protection formed a Union with the Elector Palatine Frederick at its head. Thereupon the Catholic princes also united in a Catholic League under Maximilian of Bavaria. The forces were now gathering for the great explosion. Matthias had succeeded his brother Rudolf as Emperor.
When a great storm is impending, it takes only a trifling disturbance in equilibrium to precipitate it.