be referred to certain arbitrators appointed by both parties, with the power of final decision. As to the third, it was suggested, in case of its adoption, that the Assembly should no longer consist of prelates only, many of whom were ignorant or passionately partial, but also of several doctors in theology and law, members of the most celebrated universities. Of the above methods, the University pronounced its own decided opinion in favour of the first, as being the most prompt and expedient, the most proper to prevent expense and other difficulties, the most agreeable to the consciences of the faithful in both obediences, the most respectful to the honour of the princes, who had declared for the opposite parties. Yet was there an objection to this method, which, to many, as human nature is constituted, might have seemed at once conclusive against it :—was it probable, that, for the attainment of a public good, two men, in the enjoyment of very great power, dignity, and wealth, could both be persuaded to make a voluntary cession of those personal advantages, and to withdraw to a private, and perhaps insecure, retirement, from the loftiest eminence of ambition? Yet this difficulty does not appear to have been much considered in the outset, though it became manifest, even to the most sanguine, long before the termination of the

contest.

In the same exposition, in which the remedies were thus pointed out, some of the monstrous evils which then afflicted the church were exhibited with little exaggeration; while all were naturally ascribed to the prevalent disease of the moment-the schism. It was forgotten that the greater number were rooted in the system itself, and only flourished somewhat more rankly on account of its accidental derangement. The church, it was declared, had fallen into servitude, poverty, and contempt. Unworthy and corrupt men, without the sense of justice or honesty, the servants of their intemperate passions, were commonly exalted to the prelacy; these plundered indifferently churches and monasteries, whatever was profane and whatever was sacred; and oppressed the inferior ministers of religion with intolerable exactions. The dominion of simony was universal; benefices and cures were conferred only on those, who had means to buy them; while the poor and learned candidate was hated the more for that very learning, which made him dangerous to corruption. And not only were the dignities of the church publicly bartered; not only were relics and crosses and the sacred vessels commonly exposed to sale; but the very sacraments themselves, those especially of ordination and penance, had their price in gold.

A political circumstance occurred at this moment which was favourable to the hopes of union. A truce for four years was signed between the kings of England and France-the most zealous supporters of the opposite parties. At the same time, the University of Cologne, though it acknowledged Boniface, and had probably profited by his patronage, entered into correspondence with that of Paris for the extinction of the schism;-and lastly, as if to place the result within the immediate reach of the pacificators, Clement VII. was so violently affected by the proceedings at Paris, that he was struck with apoplexy, and died.

As soon as this intelligence reached Paris, the deputation from the

When the earnest and reasonable exhortations of the University were pressed upon him when he was assured that the evil had gone so far, that some began almost to advocate a plurality of popes, and the appointment of one to every kingdom-the infatuated bigot only started from his seat in anger, and declared that the letters were poisoned, and tended to bring the Holy See into discredit.',

university instantly petitioned the king, that he would cause the cardinals to suspend the election, until some general measures should be taken to ensure the union; also, that he would assemble his prelates and nobles, and order processions and public prayers to the same end throughout his kingdom. Accordingly, a royal messenger was dispatched to Avignon, to prevent the meeting of the College, and prepare it for a special embassy; and on the success of this mission hung the hopes of Christendom. The envoy arrived at Avignon only ten days after the decease of Clement; but he found the cardinals already in conclave! Still, as the election was not yet made, he transmitted to them the letter of the king; but the College, suspecting its contents, and determined at any risk to have a pope of their own creation, deferred the opening of the letter, till their actual business should be completed. They then hastened to a decision; and Peter of Luna, Cardinal of Arragon, was raised by their unanimous voice to the divided throne.

Election of Peter of Luna, Benedict XIII.

Howbeit, they previously took a precaution, which was certainly neces sary for their own credit, though there were few, probably, who expected any real advantage from it. Before the election they drew up an act, by which they solemnly engaged to labour for the extinction of the schism, and to give every aid to the future pope for that purpose. It was moreover specified, that if any one among themselves should be raised to the pontificate, this act should be equally binding upon him; and that he should even be prepared to cede his dignity, if his cardinals should judge it expedient for the concord of the Church. They then took oaths on the altar to observe this engagement.

Peter of Luna had long been distinguished for ability and address; he had discharged with vigour the offices entrusted to him; but there was also an opinion respecting him, which seems more than any other to have procured his elevation, and even at first to have reconciled all parties to it, this was, that he ardently desired the union of the Church. This zeal he had been forward, while cardinal, to proclaim upon all occasions—even so far as to censure Clement for the want of it; and many hoped that it would burn with equal fervour under the pontifical robes. The University addressed to him congratulations, which were seemingly sincere, and Benedict XIII. (the name assumed by him) repaid them with the strongest protestations of good intention.

A grand council was then held at Paris, in which the method of cession again received the approbation of the great majority; and it was agreed, that an embassy should be sent to Avignon to treat with the Pope. The king added his authority, to give weight to this measure; and the more certainly to secure its success, he sent his brother and both his uncles (the Dukes of Burgundy and Berri) to conduct the negociation. Benedict received them with respect and deference; but when they opened the subject of their mission, and pressed the necessity of the cession, as the only road to concord, he found many reasons to urge against that particular method, as indeed against the other two, which had also occurred to the university. In the place of them, he proposed a conference with his rival, at which he affected to believe that matters might be accommodated. The ambassadors persevered in their proposal; and even the cardinals, on their strong solicitation, declared, with one exception*, for the method of cession. Nevertheless Benedict, during several weeks of repeated conferences and

* The Cardinal Bishop of Pampeluna, a Spaniard and compatriot of the Pope.

debates, inflexibly persisted in his refusal. At length the illustrious mission returned to Paris, without any other result than, the discovery of Benedict's insincerity.

Notwithstanding this failure, the king addressed himself very warmly, to unite the different courts and learned bodies of Europe in favour of the method, which still seemed to promise the greatest hopes. Messengers traversed the country in all directions, and every state and every city in Europe was agitated by the same momentous question. The speculations of the learned and the projects of the powerful were equally engrossed by it; and it seemed as if the fate of all governments, and the welfare of all subjects, depended on its solution. At this time the University of Paris, which took the foremost part in these discussions, and possessed much more influence than any other learned body, openly expressed dissatisfaction with Benedict, and even threw out some menaces of a general council, in case of his further contumacy.

Benedict watched these proceedings with anxiety; but the variety and discordance of the materials, which it was necessary to combine for his destruction, gave him the confidence to persist;-upon which the Doctors of Paris advanced one degree towards more efficient measures. And as Luna had unreservedly sworn to adopt the method of cession, in case his cardinals should hereafter recommend it, and as his cardinals had strongly recommended it, and as he had then unequivocally rejected it, little sympathy could be expected from any quarter with a prelate, whose selfish opposition to the interests of religion was made more detestable by an act of deliberate perjury. The measure was, to draw up a strong exposition of Benedict's general delinquency, and of the particular grievances of the complainants, and to appeal from his censures, whether past or future, to the future pope*: a step which very temperately opened the path for more vigorous proceedings. In the meantime, the courts which acknowledged the rival pope made. great exertions to bring him to the arrangementConduct of Boniface. which to them seemed so reasonable, and to him so unjust and extravagant. From Sicily to the extremities of Germany assemblies were held and resolutions adopted; and the vows, and talents, and energies of all men were directed to the same object; consequently, deputations and embassies were sent to Rome from all quarters. Boniface at first was contented to reply, that he was the true and only Pope, and that universal obedience was due to him; but presently, in the year 1398, when the emperor at length interfered more directly, and pressed the method of cession, he found it expedient to dissemble; and, by the advice of his cardinals, he promised submission, provided (a very safe proviso) that the Antipope of Avignon should also resign his claims t. Yet, even so guarded a concession alarmed the avaricious fears of the citizens of Rome. They trembled lest their bishop and his prodigal court, and the train of his dependents, and expectants, and sycophants, should again be seduced to some foreign residence. That event, too, at that moment, would have been peculiarly afflicting, since in two years (in 1400) the second grand and general Jubilee was to take place; and the inhabitants had already begun to make provision for the season of spoliation. Accordingly, a body of the notables of the city waited upon the Pope, and professed towards him the most sincere and

On this occasion numbers of polemical tracts and pamphlets were published on both sides, containing, as Fleury has observed, many words but few reasons.

† Spondanus, ann. 1398, s. ii.

unprecedented* affection: they declared that they would never desert him, but sustain, with their very lives and property, his just and holy cause. My children,' replied Boniface, 'take courage! rest assured that I will continue to be pope; and whatever I may say, or however I may play off the King of France and the Emperor against each other, I will never submit to their will.'

While such was the disposition of the Roman competitor, during the July of the same year the Court and Uni

versity of Paris at length perceiving that a Subtraction of obedience. mere contest of acts and declarations would

never weary the Pontiff of Avignon, proceeded to a measure of greater efficacy-one which no Catholic nation had hitherto, on any occasion, dared to adopt against any pope: By the aid and advice of the princes and other nobles, and of the Church of our kingdom, as well clergy as people, we entirely withdraw our obedience from Pope Benedict XIII., as well as from his adversary, whom indeed we have never acknowledged. And we ordain, that no one henceforward make any payment to Pope Benedict, his collectors, or agents, from the ecclesiastical revenues or emoluments. We also strictly prohibit all our subjects from offering to him any manner of obedience.' Such was the substance of the royal proclamation; and arrangements were at the same time made to deprive the pope of the presentation to all benefices, for as long a time as it should remain in force. This edict was received with such general respect and submission, that the very domestics and chaplains of Benedict retired from their offices; and what was still more important, the cardinals themselves withdrew in a body from his court. But he, nothing moved by that unanimity, was the more forward on repeated occasions to assert, that he was the true and genuine pope; that he would remain so, in despite of king, duke, or count-and that he was prepared to renounce his life, rather than his dignity.

Recourse was then had to the only method which gave any jnst hope of success. A military force was sent against Avignon; and as the inhabitants of that city also declared their adhesion to the king and the cardinals, nothing now remained in opposition to the royal will and the force of the nation, except the pontifical palace. But Benedict had secured some faithful mercenaries for its defence; and an effective blockade was thought sufficient for the objects of his enemies. Thus for the space of four years he continued a close prisoner in his own residence, without any strength to resist the means employed against him, or any disposition to yield to them. But at length, the vigour of that powerful confederacy was dissipated by the persevering intrigues of one feeble individual, and the variety of interests and principles in the mass opposed to Benedict led by slow degrees to a disunion, which preserved him. The first, who betrayed his party was a Norman officer, Robinet de Braquemont, who, through the confidence reposed in him, and his. constant access to the palace, found easy means of liberating the pope. It was on March 12, 1403, that the successor of St. Peter concealed his apostolical sanctity under the disguise of a menial; and, having thus eluded the penetration of his guards, took refuge in a small town near Avignon. As a pope was never wont to travel, unless preceded by the

Fleury, liv. xcix. s. 18. Boniface artfully availed himself of this unusual display of loyalty on the part of his subjects to secure an extent of temporal authority over them, such as no former pope is said to have possessed. See Ægidius Card. Viterb, apud Pagi. Vit. Bonif. IX, s. xliii.

Holy Sacrament, Benedict carried out with him a little box, containing the consecrated element; and even, for the literal observance of that custom, he placed the box upon his breast.

As soon as he found himself in safety, he caused his beard, which he had nourished during the persecution of his captivity, to be shaved off; and recovering with his freedom the consciousness of his dignity, he resumed the habits and authority of a pope. No sooner was the circumstance of his liberation made known, than several noble individuals rendered to him the accustomed homage. Immediately the College of Cardinals passed over to him and sought a reconciliation. The citizens of Avignon eagerly tendered their offers of service. Benedict forgave the truancy, and accepted the repentance of all. At the same time, the party in France, which for some time had been opposed to the subtraction * of obedience, and which had lately gained strength, now boldly declared its adhesion. The king was privately induced to join it; and, notwithstanding the resistance of the more consistent promoters of ecclesiastical concord, it prevailed. By an edict of May 30, an entire and unequivocal restitution of obedience was enjoined thus after a partial interruption of about five years, the tide of papacy resumed for a season, even in France itself, its prescribed and customary † course.

Government of Boniface.

The reason which was advanced by the king, to justify so complete a change in his policy, was, that the example of France had not been followed by other nations; and that, while the pontiff of Avignon was confined to his palace walls, the intruder at Rome was acquiring new strength and confidence. We shall, therefore, now recur very briefly to the system of government which Boniface had adopted. It appears to have been directed by one principle only-to extract the largest possible sums from the superstition of the people and the ambition of the clergy, and the folly and credulity of both. During the first seven years of his pontificate, his proceedings were veiled by some show of decency, through a reluctant respect which he paid to the virtues of some of the ancient cardinals. But as these successively died, and were replaced by others of his own creation and character, he broke out into the undisguised practice of simony §. This was the most copious and constant source of his

It is the word used by ecclesiastical writers-Subtractio, soustraction. The first proof of moderation and gratitude which Benedict gave after the Act of Restitution was, to appoint afresh to certain benefices, which had been filled up during the subtraction. The king then sent an embassy to pray him to confirm such provisions, as had been then made. He returned a direct refusal. On this, Charles published his commands, that those who had been so appointed should, at any rate and without any fees to the Pope, remain in possession. This was conclusive.

In 1399, King Richard expressly consulted the University of Oxford on the grand question of the age. The answer of that body was very decided against any refusal of obedience to Boniface, because he was indeed the true Pope. On the same ground, they objected to the method of cession, and insisted in preference on that of a General Council -to be convoked of course by their own geruine Pope. Thus they assumed at once the point at issue-if Boniface had power to convoke a council of universal authority, Boniface was truly Pope-and the schism was at an end.

See Theodoric of Niem, De Schismat., lib. ii., cap. vii., viii., ix., x., xi., xii., &c. This author, a native of Westphalia, was attached as Secretary to the Roman Court during the whole of the Schism; and besides the History of this Event, in four books, (the last of which is entitled Nemus Unionis) he composed the Life of John XXIII. He exposed pontifical depravity with freedom, it may be with rancour. Spondanus (ann. 1404, s. xvi.) especially ascribes his account of the simony of Boniface to an ulcerosus stomachus, and of course other Roman Catholic writers are scandalized by his little reserve. But we doubt not, that his narrative is essentially true.