left me without support. I confess I was indignant, and said that if even Spain had been my native country I should have received there the honour denied to me in France.'1 It may easily be supposed that if even the king, whose instincts were in favour of toleration, and who had loved and trusted De Thou, was overborne by the influence of Rome, and brought to discourage and repudiate him, the literary militia of Rome would not be backward in their attacks. Of these two-Scioppius, a hireling scholar, and Machaud, a Jesuit-were conspicuous for their virulence. De Thou did not care to answer them, but, supported by the general approval of those whose opinions were really valuable, went tranquilly on his way. In the concluding volume of the edition of his works, collected by Thomas Carte and edited by Buckley, there is brought together a great mass of letters from various notable persons, all uniting in praise of his great work. De Thou had sent a copy of the first part, immediately on its publication, to King James of England. He had not stinted to use the accustomed tone of flattery, always too apparent in offering such gifts to princes: 'The report of your Majesty's virtues, like the effulgence of the rising sun,2 your sincere friendship with our King, the bond of agreement now so closely drawn between the two nations of France and Great Britain, the eminent regard you have shown to men of letters. and to literature itself, and your character for general courtesy, all these causes have conspired to facilitate my access to your Majesty, and have made me indulge the hope that you would graciously and favourably accept this production of my industry such as it may be, and you will find examples of salutary precepts which you have consigned to all posterity in a book that deserves to be written in letters of gold [Basilicon Doron]. I pray Almighty God to preserve the most Christian King to his people, and your Majesty to your subjects, and both for the general benefit of Christendom. And as He has. lately inclined your mind to cultivate by all good offices and friendly services a closer bond of mutual amity, so may He dispose the hearts and turn the attentions of both by joint consent to restore concord to the Church, lest in ratifying articles of peace ye may seem to have been more intent on strengthening your respective territories than in exalting the glory of the Supreme Lord of us all.' 3 King James condescended to reply to the historian in a letter written in French. He says:— 1 Buckley, vol. vii. Appendix ii. p. 7. 2 We are forcibly reminded here of the dedication of the Authorized Version.. 3 Collinson, p. 129. ences. 'You manifest the respect and good-will you bear to our person, which we receive and acknowledge with a return of affection, and take in good part the exhortation, which in the sincerity of an honest heart you make, on the subject of using our efforts to forward union in the Church by an elucidation and adjustment of religious differTo this measure we assure you that we are, and always shall be, not only well disposed but earnest in promoting it, and on all occasions every exertion which depends on us shall be employed for so laudable an object. We have never, we thank God, entertained a spirit of sectarism, nor disregarded the general good of Christendom, and we cannot but wish that all princes and potentates were actuated by the same inclinations and desires as ourselves.' 1 Nevertheless King James was not altogether satisfied with De Thou's history as it proceeded. In relating the affairs of Scotland, in the second part, De Thou, fearful of offending the king, had sought the advice of the learned Camden as to how he was to treat the events of the year 1566. He had followed Buchanan in his severe strictures on the king's mother, and while the work was passing through the press he anxiously inquired of Camden whether Buchanan had written in a fair spirit. The learned Englishman gave him his version of the affair (the courtly one), but De Thou was too fair an historian and of too candid a mind to be altogether influenced by it. Consequently he treats Mary rather severely. King James was much vexed at such unaccustomed freedom. In a letter written from England after he had become domiciled there, Isaac Casaubon tells De Thou: 'His Majesty sees, not without impatience, that you have been misled by a certain party, and have been transported beyond the bounds of truth, in repeating in your letters and relating with a diligent and scrupulous minuteness reports to the prejudice of his blessed mother of glorious memory. These his Majesty knows, and knows with certainty, to be false, and to have been the fabrications of a set of men rebels to her power, and who exerted themselves by every possible means in harassing and bringing destruction on her head.'2" King James (Casaubon tells De Thou) had directed Sir Robert Cotton to write a true account of these events. This was executed and transmitted to De Thou; but, though the narrative was somewhat softened in a second edition, yet substantially the same account of Queen Mary remains. Nowhere was De Thou's history received more favourably than at Venice, then in the midst of her struggle against the Papal power. There is abundant record in the letters of Father Paul Sarpi of the value which he put upon it, but no letter of 2 Ibid. p. 154. 1 Collinson, p. 135. his to De Thou has been discovered. Another Venetian correspondent characterizes the work as 'excellent and immortal,' and freely acknowledges the corruptions of the Roman Church, which it holds up to view, but qualifies this by saying 'nevertheless it is still the Catholic Church.' It may be confidently affirmed that this was always the opinion of De Thou. He was, of course, freely accused of being a Protestant, or of favouring Protestant opinions, but there does not appear to be any ground for this assertion. He was, of course, a strong Gallican. He opposed the acceptance of the decrees of the Council of Trent, which France had refused for forty years. He advocated strongly the national rights of the Church of France, but that he had any difficulty in accepting any part of the doctrinal teaching of the Church of which he was a member does not appear. He is described in his epitaph as Christianæ pietatis antiquæ retentissimus, and this he may well have been without believing in the infallibility of the Pope, or doubting that a good Protestant could be saved. In a letter to Cardinal Sforza, written in 1606, De Thou eloquently defends his work and the position which he had taken up : 'When I undertook to write the history of this time, although I knew well that complaisance conciliates friends, and truth gives birth to hatred, I yet did not expect to meet with judgments so littleequitable, and readers so prejudiced. The civil strifes excited in the past century on account of religion are a thorny subject, and, like ashes, with fire beneath, over which it is dangerous to walk, but I thought I had met all this in my Preface, which was intended to obviate the calumnies and reproaches which I foresaw would be used against me; and I think if it is diligently and equitably examined it will content for the most part the most rigid censors. My life must answer for the rest, which, like my writings, is free, open, and exposed to public view. I call God to witness that I have written without favour or hatred to any. I have neither love nor hatred, except love of virtue and hatred of vice. The principal law of history is not only to speak the truth, but to speak it boldly. Take away this liberty, which I know they blame in me, you blind its eyes, you tear it in pieces, you destroy its life. I know that they demand of me a more open detestation of our adversaries in religion. this matter I think I have said enough in my Preface. that the laws under which we live at present do not allow us to speak otherwise, and since experience has taught us that arms are a deadly remedy in religious disputes, we ought to help it by the arts of peace, and thus strive to reach that reconciliation which is desired by all good men.'1 To his friend M. Du Puy, De Thou writes: 1 Buckley, vol. vii. Appendix i. p. 16. In I will add 'Christian charity constrains us to hope for the salvation of those who are not heresiarchs, and who, having been born of sectarian parents, do not doubt, in so many places where this evil has spread, that in that belief which we hold to be erroneous they shall find salvation.' 1 Of course it was idle to hope that with such sentiments the writer could expect to escape the condemnation of Rome. Caraccioli, an Italian monk, after an elaborate criticism of the book, came to the conclusion: 'Of this book and its author this is my opinion. I hold that the book ought to be utterly abolished and condemned, for that it contains so many foully pestilential passages, that it cannot be amended without an utter destruction of the history. As for the author, on account of the hideous hatred which he exhibits in it towards the Roman See and its greatest pontiffs, he is evidently a Calvinist, and for that reason to be reckoned among heretics of the first class.' 2 To this opinion the Court of Rome soon came. In spite of the efforts of several friendly Cardinals and the kind offices of M. Du Puy, the French ambassador, there came forth in 1609 the decree of 'Ludovico Ystella Valentino, dell' Ordine de' Predicatori, Maestro del Sacro Palazzo Apostolico, Giudice ordinario,' &c. notifying that all the faithful were prohibited from reading or possessing the books following, and commanding all who possessed copies of them to bring them to the office of the Sacred Palace. In the list or index of prohibited works, Bishop Andrewes' Tortura Torti figures next before Jacobi Augusti Thuani Historia, so that the historian was gibbeted in good company. In the same list may also be found the Mare Liberum of Grotius; and not often has one of these contemptible documents exhibited a conjunction of three greater names. The most learned bishop of the Anglican Church; the most acute publicist of his day, the man who may fairly be called a very encyclopedia of learning, are linked together with the most candid, painstaking, and upright of historians in a joint condemnation by Rome! Who will not sympathize with the historian in his eloquent appeal to Posterity to reverse the judgment thus cruelly and wickedly passed against him ? 3 Quid faciam ? quo me vertam? quo judice causam Tempus erit, quo, nunc quæ non ita grata, placebunt ; Præmia pro meritis constabunt justa labori.'1 1 When the great tragedy of the assassination of Henry IV. took place, De Thou, in common with all good Frenchmen, was deeply grieved. The events which followed did not tend to raise his spirits. He saw the policy of Henry IV. reversed under the queen regent. Ultramontane principles were now in the ascendant, and the fair promise of the previous reign was marred. Personally he failed to obtain the post of first President of Parliament, which he considered fairly his due, and in disgust at his rejection he wrote a long letter to his friend Jeannin, in which he expatiates upon his wrongs, though at the same time professing a lofty indifference to royal favours. It must be owned that a considerable amount of vanity is apparent in this epistle. 'I grieve,' he writes, 'for the injury I have sustained in my own person. I grieve more because greater injury has been offered to the commonwealth, and I always considered that I was not born for myself alone, but for my friends and my country. I began to write before the civil war was extinguished. That I have preserved the most uncorrupt fidelity, without hatred or affection, with no other object in view but the glory of God and the public good, I call God Himself to witness, who endowed me with ability to complete so voluminous a work in the midst of numerous avocations. I do not presume to think myself equal to many of my predecessors in the graces of style, in luminous arrangement, or weight of sentiment, but in diligence and fidelity I yield to none. I expected the attacks of malice, but the event has exceeded my expectation. Circumstances combined to make me an object of easy oppression to the Court of Rome. Their censures were levelled at two marks, viz. the concern I had in framing the edict in favour of the Protestants, and the freedom of my history, particularly in defending the rights of my country. I became their victim. I soon experienced in the Queen the same change which the King had manifested. I was excluded from parliament and from favour at Court. This flagrant ingratitude makes my private injury a public concern. It is publicly remarked that the factious and discontented now bear sway; the same spirit prevails which shook the kingdom twenty-five years ago, and ruined it under King 1 Collinson, Appendix i. |