er, to effect a _rapprochement_ was a
reason for Erasmus to retire at once. Now began that extremely ambiguous
policy of Erasmus to preserve peace by his authority as a light of the
world and to steer a middle course without committing himself. In that
attitude the great and the petty side of his personality are
inextricably intertwined. The error because of which most historians
have seen Erasmus's attitude towards the Reformation either in far too
unfavourable a light or--as for instance the German historian
Kalkoff--much too heroic and far-seeing, is that they erroneously regard
him as psychologically homogeneous. Just that he is not. His
double-sidedness roots in the depths of his being. Many of his
utterances during the struggle proceed directly from his fear and lack
of character, also from his inveterate dislike of siding with a person
or a cause; but behind that is always his deep and fervent conviction
that neither of the conflicting opinions can completely express the
truth, that human hatred and purblindness infatuate men's minds. And
with that conviction is allied the noble illusion that it might yet be
possible to preserve the peace by moderation, insight, and kindliness.
In April 1519 Erasmus addressed himself by letter to the elector
Frederick of Saxony, Luther's patron. He begins by alluding to his
dedication of Suetonius two years before; but his real purpose is to say
something about Luther. Luther's writings, he says, have given the
Louvain obscurants plenty of reason to inveigh against the _bonae
literae_, to decry all scholars. He himself does not know Luther and has
glanced through his writings only cursorily as yet, but everyone praises
his life. How little in accordance with theological gentleness it is to
condemn him offhand, and that before the indiscreet vulgar! For has he
not proposed a dispute, and submitted himself to everybody's judgement?
No one has, so far, admonished, taught, convinced him. Every error is
not at once heresy.
The best of Christianity is a life worthy of Christ. Where we find that,
we should not rashly suspect people of heresy. Why do we so uncharitably
persecute the lapses of others, though none of us is free from error?
Why do we rather want to conquer than cure, suppress than instruct?
But he concludes with a word that could not but please Luther's friends,
who so hoped for his support. 'May the duke prevent an innocent man from
being surrendered under the cloak o
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