The Reformation.—Its Progress in the Netherlands.—General Discontent.—William of Orange.

The middle of the sixteenth century presented one of those crises which have occurred at long intervals in the history of Europe, when the course of events has had a permanent influence on the destiny of nations. Scarcely forty years had elapsed since Luther had thrown down the gauntlet to the Vatican, by publicly burning the papal bull at Wittenberg. Since that time, his doctrines had been received in Denmark and Sweden. In England, after a state of vacillation for three reigns, Protestantism, in the peculiar form which it still wears, was become the established religion of the state. The fiery cross had gone round over the hills and valleys of Scotland, and thousands and tens of thousands had gathered to hear the word of life from the lips of Knox. The doctrines of Luther were spread over the northern parts of Germany, and freedom of worship was finally guarantied there, by the treaty of Passau. The Low Countries were the "debatable land," on which the various sects of Reformers, the Lutheran, the Calvinist, the English Protestant, contended for mastery with the established church. Calvinism was embraced by some of the cantons of Switzerland, and at Geneva its great apostle had fixed his head-quarters. His doctrines were widely circulated through France, till the divided nation was preparing to plunge into that worst of all wars, in which the hand of brother is raised against brother. The cry of reform had even passed the Alps, and was heard under the walls of the Vatican. It had crossed the Pyrenees. The king of Navarre declared himself a Protestant; and the spirit of the Reformation had secretly insinuated itself into Spain, and taken hold, as we have seen, of the middle and southern provinces of the kingdom.

A contemporary of the period, who reflected on the onward march of the new religion over every obstacle in its path, who had seen it gather under its banners states and nations once the most loyal and potent vassals of Rome, would have had little reason to doubt that, before the end of the century, the Reform would have extended its sway over the whole of Christendom. Fortunately for Catholicism, the most powerful empire in Europe was in the hands of a prince who was devoted with his whole soul to the interests of the Church. Philip the Second understood the importance of his position. His whole life proves that he felt it to be his especial mission to employ his great resources to restore the tottering fortunes of Catholicism, and stay the progress of the torrent which was sweeping away every landmark of the primitive faith.

We have seen the manner in which he crushed the efforts of the Protestants in Spain. This was the first severe blow struck at the Reformation. Its consequences cannot well be exaggerated; not the immediate results, which would have been little without the subsequent reforms and increased activity of the Church of Rome itself. But the moral influence of such a blow, when the minds of men had been depressed by a long series of reverses, is not to be estimated. In view of this, one of the most eminent Roman Catholic writers does not hesitate to remark, that "the power and abilities of Philip the Second afforded a counterpoise to the Protestant cause, which prevented it from making itself master of Europe."[491] The blow was struck; and from this[{193}] period little beyond its present conquests was to be gained for the cause of the Reformation.

REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.

It was not to be expected that Philip, after having exterminated heresy in one part of his dominions, should tolerate its existence in any other, least of all, in a country so important as the Netherlands. Yet a little reflection might have satisfied him that the same system of measures could hardly be applied with a prospect of success to two countries so differently situated as Spain and the Netherlands. The Romish faith may be said to have entered into the being of the Spaniard. It was not merely cherished as a form of religion, but as a principle of honor. It was part of the national history. For eight centuries the Spaniard had been fighting at home the battles of the Church. Nearly every inch of soil in his own country was won by arms from the infidel. His wars, as I have more than once had occasion to remark, were all wars of religion. He carried the same spirit across the waters. There he was still fighting the infidel. His life was one long crusade. How could this champion of the Church desert her in her utmost need?

With this predisposition, it was easy for Philip to enforce obedience in a people naturally the most loyal to their princes, to whom, moreover, since the fatal war of the Comunidades, they had been accustomed to pay an almost Oriental submission. Intrenched behind the wall of the Pyrenees, Spain, we must bear in mind, felt little of the great shock which was convulsing France and the other states of Europe; and with the aid of so formidable an engine as the Inquisition, it was easy to exterminate, before they could take root, such seeds of heresy as had been borne by the storm across the mountains.

The Netherlands, on the other hand, lay like a valley among the hills, which drinks in all the waters of the surrounding country. They were a common reservoir for the various opinions which agitated the nations on their borders. On the south were the Lutherans of Germany. The French Huguenots pressed them on the west; and by the ocean they held communication with England and the nations of the Baltic. The soldier quartered on their territory, the seaman who visited their shores, the trader who trafficked in their towns, brought with them different forms of the new religion. Books from France and from Germany circulated widely among a people, nearly all of whom, as we have seen, were able to read.

The new doctrines were discussed by men accustomed to think and act for themselves. Freedom of speculation on religious topics soon extended to political. It was the natural tendency of reform. The same spirit of free inquiry which attacked the foundations of unity of faith, stood ready next to assail those of unity of government; and men began boldly to criticize the rights of kings and the duties of subjects.

The spirit of independence was fostered by the institutions of the country. The provinces of the Netherlands, if not republican in form, were filled with the spirit of republics. In many of their features they call to mind the free states of Italy in the Middle Ages. Under the petty princes who ruled over them in early days, they had obtained charters, as we have seen, which secured a certain degree of constitutional freedom. The province of Brabant, above all, gloried in its "Joyeuse Entrée," which guarantied privileges and immunities of a more liberal character than those possessed by the other states of the Netherlands. When the provinces passed at length under the sceptre of a single sovereign, he lived at a distance, and the government was committed to a viceroy. Since their connection with Spain, the administration had been for the most part in the hands of a woman; and the delegated authority of a woman pressed but lightly on the independent temper of the Flemings.