much longer; and that he would invest his few remaining years with the gratitude and blessings of mankind, rather than adhere, amid universal detestation, to a mere name, which an early death, followed by eternal infamy, was now at hand to tear away from him.

These arguments, urged by the highest secular powers, were confirmed by other authority, which may have given them additional value in the eyes of a churchman and a Pope. There were two holy brothers named Vincent and Boniface Ferrier*, who had hitherto faithfully adhered to the cause of Benedict, and whose acknowledged piety and supposed inspiration seemed to lend it some sort of sanctity. These venerable persons now joined their friendly eloquence to turn the heart of Benedict; and they fortified their appeal by declaring, that, as the reproach of schism must henceforward rest on his party, they should be compelled, in case of his further opposition, to desert himt.

Benedict was not moved by any of these considerations. Whether it was, that in the conscientious belief that he was the true Pope, he considered it a religious, or (what might be equally sacred in his mind) an ecclesiastical duty, to preserve his office to the end of his life; or whether (as is more probable), the love of power grew with the progress of his years, and the decay of his vigour, so as finally to close his heart against any representations of reason or decency,--he maintained his constant resolution inflexibly. As he had always been the legitimate, so was he now, forsooth, the only, Pontiff: the deposition of both his adversaries confirmed him, without competition, in the possession of the See. So that, if the schism were still permitted to subsist (he continued), the scandal must rest with the Council of Constance, not with him. For his own part, he was determined never to abandon the bark of St. Peter, of which the helm had been confided to him by God; and the older he became, and the nearer he approached to death and the judgment, the stronger was his obligation to resist the tempest, and avert the anger of Heaven by persevering in the course assigned to him. In conclusion, he enforced the necessity of at once uniting all the faithful in universal obedience to himself. Benedict was now in his seventy-eighth year; nevertheless, he argued his own cause before a public assembly for seven entire hours, with such courage, fervour, and impetuosity, as to leave it uncertain whether his extraordinary energy was derived from ambition, or from fanaticism, or from a strange combination of both.

The result of this singular contest was not yet perfectly manifest. On the one side was the secular and spiritual power of Europe, the authority of kings, the prayers of the people, the consent of the Catholic Church -reason, and justice, and every wise, and every good principle, arrayed against the infatuated obstinacy of one crafty, faithless, old man. Yet the thoughtful were still in some suspense, and many had greater fears from the inveterate subtilty of Benedict, than hopes from the union of so many Princes.... But it proved otherwise; the parties engaged in the Conference had no personal interest in favour of that pretender; and his

*This same Vincent Ferrier is addressed by Gerson from Constance, as a patron of the sect of the Flagellants, whom the chancellor earnestly exhorts him to abandon. Nevertheless he is designated as "Theologus et Orator toto orbe inclytus." The documents are given by Von der Hardt, tom. iii., pars vii.

+Theodoric of Niem mentions that Vincent Ferrier did then, in fact, take so decided a part against his former master, as to declare it a merit to persecute or kill him. "Quod sit vir pravus et fallax et fictus, decipiendo populum Dei, quodque justè persequendus sit usque ad mortem ab omnibus Christianis, &c." . . Vit. Johann. XXIII. p. 63. This holy zealot had as little charity in his enmity, as discretion in his friendship.

perversity was so remote from reason, that it served rather to cement the confederacy against him. It was resolved, however, to make one final attempt at persuasion. But here Benedict, perceiving the firmness of his adversaries, and fearing their ultimate design, withdrew his person from their power, and quitted Perpignan. He retired, after some hesitation, to a place called Paniscola,-a fortress situated near Tortosa and the mouth of the Ebro, an ancient possession of the House of Luna. Four cardinals, and a small body of soldiers, followed him.

His deposition.

Any hopes which he may have derived from this proceeding, beyond that of mere personal security, were disappointed. The Assembly at Perpignan, being now relieved from the constraint which his presence still occasioned to those, who still acknowledged him, immediately, and by a formal act, renounced its obcdience. Not long afterwards, Scotland, which had taken no part in these measures, but continued to adhere without scruple to its first decision, being now persuaded that Benedict was the only remaining obstacle to the general concord, followed the example of the Conference. And then, at length,* the Council of Constance felt itself empowered to inflict the final blow. The sentence of depositionwas pronounced against Peter of Luna, according to the prescribed forms; and the bolt, which had fallen almost harmless from the Assembly of Pisa, descended on this occasion with greater efficacy, because its object was already virtually deposed, through the secession of his royal adherents..... In the mean time, the aged Ecclesiastic, against whom the storm which himself had raised was now in justice directed, was not moved to any act of concession, or any show of humiliation. Twice deposed by two General Councils-twice anathematized by the great and almost unanimous consent of the Catholic Church-deserted by the secular powers, who had so long countenanced his perfidy and protected his adversity-abandoned by the most venerable, even among his spiritual followers-and confined to a narrow and solitary residence-the Pope of Paniscola still preserved the mockery of a court, and presided in his empty council-hall. And thence, in the magnanimity of disappointment and despair, he launched his daily anathema against Ferdinand of Arragon, and retorted, with ludicrous earnestness, the excommunications of the Christian world.

Election of Martin V. by

the Council, and termination of the schism.

The Council of Constance, having thus at length, through the perseverance of its Imperial Director, removed the three competitors whose disputes had rent the Church, proceeded to provide for its future integrity; and, that no pretext might possibly be left for subsequent dissension, it was determined, for this occasion only, to make an addition to the Elective Assembly. The entire College of the united Cardinals consisted, at that time, of thirty members; and to this body a second, consisting of six ecclesiastics from each of the fivet nations, was associated. It was further regulated, that the consent of two-thirds both of the sacred college and of the deputies of each nation should be required for the validity of the election, so many were the interests which it was necessary to reconcile, so severe were the precautions required, to secure for the future Pontiff the

On July 26th, 1417.

As soon as the fate of Benedict was decided, the Spanish nation was added to the four, which had hitherto constituted the Assembly.

undivided obedience of Europe. Accordingly, on the 8th of November, 1417, the electors entered into conclave, and after a deliberation of three days, they agreed in the choice of Otho Colonna (Martin V.), a noble and virtuous Roman.

The character of Martin pointed him out as the man destined to repair the ruins of the Church. The announcement was received with enthusiastic expressions of delight; the Emperor was the first to prostrate himself at the holy Prelate's feet, in a transport of rapture, which was shared, or affected, by the vast assembly present. And it was not without reasonable ground of confidence-it was not without many motives for self-satisfaction, and many just claims on the gratitude of that age and that Church, that Sigismond and the Council at length_approached the termination of their labours. To us, indeed, looking back from our brighter elevation upon the means of the disputants and the subject of the strife, it will, perhaps, appear, that so powerful a combination of temporal and spiritual authority might have accomplished in a much shorter space the destruction of a profligate Pope and two denounced pretenders that the force employed was disproportionate to the endthat the methods were indirect and dilatory, marked by too much ceremony and too little vigour. But we should thus determine inconsiderately, and without due regard to the maxims and prejudices of those days. When we reflect, that a century had scarcely yet elapsed since Boniface VIII. was exulting in the plenitude of spiritual despotism; that, even to the end of the Avignon succession, the lofty attributes of Papacy remained, as heretofore, unviolated and almost unquestioned; when we recollect, too, how slow and difficult are the triumphs of reason over prescriptive absurdities, we shall rather admire the firmness exhibited at Constance, and the courage with which some Papal principles were overthrown, than cen. sure that assembly for not having more hastily accomplished, what it did at length accomplish effectually.

The Council continued its sessions for a few months after the election of Martin, and was then dismissed, or rather Fate of the Pretenders. adjourned, for the space of five years. Pavia was the place appointed for the next meeting; and the Pope proceeded towards Rome, to occupy and refit his shattered vessel. Nevertheless, with whatever security he may have approached his See, he must sometimes have reflected, that there still lived three men, who had enjoyed in their turns the dignity which he now held, and who had clung to it with extreme pertinacity. It was fair to presume that their ambition would not depart from them, except with life; and that any casual circumstance, which might offer to any one of them the means of recovering any portion of his power, would find him eager to embrace it. So long as they breathed, the concord of the Church could scarcely be deemed secure; let us then follow their history to its termination. Gregory did not long survive the act of his cession; he lived long enough to emerge from the condition of dishonour and guilt, into which his weakness had thrown him, and little longer; and if his last act had been less obviously the effect of compulsion, we might have admitted it as some atonement for his previous delinquency.

Peter of Luna continued for about six years to proclaim his legitimacy, and exult in his martyrdom. Every day the walls of Paniscola were

These were forty-five in number; lasting, at various intervals, from November 16th, 1414, to August 9th, 1418.

astonished by the repetition of his anathemas; but the bolts were innocuous but for the temporary departure of Alfonso of Arragon from the principles of his predecessor, they would scarcely have been heard beyond the fortress gates; nor did they disturb, in any degree, the repose of Christendom. He died suddenly, in the year 1424*, in extreme old age; but his vigour, which was still fresh and unabated, gave some colour to the suspicion of poison, which attends his death. It is at least certain, that, as soon as he perceived his final hour approaching, he commanded the attendance of his two Cardinals, the faithful remnant of his court, and addressed them with his wonted intrepidity. And then, even at this last crisis, when ambition and interest could not possibly sway him longer, he asserted with his parting breath, that he was the true and only Pope, and that it was absolutely essential for the purity of the Church to continue the succession. On this he adjured his two hearers, on pain of his pontifical malediction, to elect a successor. Having secured their obedience, he died; and it is related in ecclesiastical records, that six years afterwards his body was found entire, and without symptom of decay; and that, being then transported to Igluera, a town of Arragon, the property of his family, it long continued, and perchance may still continue, to resist the visitation of corruption.

His character has not escaped equally inviolate; and the censures by which it is perpetually assailed, cannot in justice be suppressed or softened. His talents were unquestionably vivid and active; but they were of a mean description,—the mere machines of intrigue and subtilty,—the ener gies of a contemptible and contracted soul. He was eminent in sanctity, and the integrity of private life. But what manner of integrity or sanctity is that, which is found consistent with ambition, and selfishness, and perjury; which can wrap itself in duplicity at any call of interest, and pursue a seeming expediency through fraud, and faithlessness, and falsehood? But at least (it is said) Benedict was sincere in believing, that he was the true Pope, and that through his perseverance alone the succession could be preserved uninterrupted. . . . Was he so sincere? When he advocated so warmly the necessity of mutual concession, during the reign of his predecessor, then, at least, he was not persuaded, that the purity of the Catholic Church was identical with obedience to the pretenders of Avignon. Had he been so persuaded, he could not himself have accepted the pontificate as a conditional boon; nor bound himself by oath to cede, on specific terms, that trust, which afterwards he proclaimed it his religious duty to maintain, under every circumstance. Assuredly, if his sincerity in this respect must be admitted, we must, at the same time, acknowledge, that he was not impressed with it till after his elevation; and that it was then so closely connected with his ambition, as to make it impossible for the historian, as it might be difficult even for himself, to distinguish between them.

The two Cardinals obeyed the parting injunction of their master, and chose for his successor one Gilles Mugnos, who called himself Clement VIII. But, not long afterwards, Alphonso finally withdrew his protection. from his creature; Mugnos retired, without a struggle, to his former obscurity; and the succession of pretenders, which had been imposed upon the Church by the Conclave at Anagni, was at length at an end.

The year is disputed. We follow Spondanus, ann. 1424, s. iii. The circumstance that he held, at least, the name of Pope for thirty years-a space longer than any predecessor-has been seriously urged as an argument against his legitimacy. Non videbis dies Petri,' the prophetic address to the successors of the apostle, had not been accomplished in the case of Luna, therefore he could not be a genuine successor.

One other object of our curiosity still remains, Baltazar Cossa, the President, the adversary, and the victim of the Council of Constance. Very soon after the dissolution of that assembly, the Republic of Florence, which had been unceasingly attached to the cause, or at least to the person and sufferings, of the captive, earnestly solicited his liberation from Martin V.; and it appears that, presently afterwards, whether through the imprudence*, the policy, or the generosity of that Pope, Baltazar was restored to liberty. He returned to Italy, and presented himself as a simple ecclesiastic among his former associates and dependents. His popular qualities had secured him many adherents, and their affection was not shaken by his adversity. In some places he was welcomed with cordial salutations, but Parma was the principal scene of his triumph and temptation; for there he found a powerful party prepared to revive and support his abrogated claims to the chair. These warmly pressed him to resume his dignity, and their solicitations were seconded by several individuals who had tasted his former bounty, or had hopes from his future gratitude; all joined in protesting against the violence which he had suffered at Constance, and conjured him once more to array himself in the pontifical vestments, which were rightfully his own. This was not all: even in the calculations of success there seemed some ground for hope. The independent states of Italy would probably declare in his favour, and the numerous petty tyrants, who had usurped the patrimony of the Church, would assuredly unite against the acknowledged Pope. These circumstances were represented to Baltazar, and he fully comprehended their importance. Some wrongs, too, some unnecessary hardships, he had unquestionably endured at the hands of the emperor and council. Baltazar patiently listened to the seductions of his friends; and then, without returning them any answer, he suddenly took his resolution. He departed from the city hastily, and without any attendants; and proceeded to Florence, where the Pope then resided, in the garb of a fugitive and a suppliant. Immediately, without requiring any formal security for his person, he sought for Martin, and in the presence of a full assembly cast himself humbly at his feet; and while he recognized him with due reverence as the legitimate Vicar of Christ, he repeated his solemn ratification of the acts of the Council, and of his own deposition.

Most of those, who witnessed this spectacle, were affected to tears; for

*The account of Leonardus Aretinus (in Rerum Italic. Historia), who had the means of knowing the truth, is not so favourable to the motives of either party, as that which we would more willingly adopt." John, after his captivity and abdication, was imprisoned in Bavaria. But many had a scruple, whether his deposition and abdication, being forcible, was legitimate. And if that was doubtful, the legitimacy of Martin also came into dispute. With this apprehension, and, at the same time, lest the Princes of Germany, possessing this image (idolum) of a Pope, should some day take some advantage of it, Martin engaged in measures for his redemption and restoration to Italy. Therefore, when on his liberation he arrived in France, and then learnt the counsel of Martin (which was to confine him for life at Mantua), before he arrived at Mantua, he turned off towards Genoa; and there being free, and his own master, whether induced by conscience, or by despair of success in any hostile enterprise, he voluntarily came to Florence, and throwing himself at the feet of Martin, recognized him as the true and only Pontiff. In adventu ejus tota civitas obviam profusa multis lacrimis et incredibili commiseratione respexit hominem de tantæ dignitatis fastigio in tantas calamitates prolapsum. Ipse quoque miserabili prope habitu incedebat, &c." The Florentines, on the other hand, were not very fond of Pope Martin; and he is related, by the same historian, to have been almost childishly affected by a song then popular among the rabble, of which the

burden was

...

Papa Martino non val un quattrino.