SECTION A concise description of the valleys of Piedmont, and of the Pyrenees; with some account of the life and doctrine of Claude, bishop of Turin. THE principality of Piedmont, 1 derives its name from the circumstance of its being situated at the foot of the Alps — a prodigious range of mountains, the highest indeed in Europe, and which divide Italy from France, Switzerland, and Germany. It is hounded on the east by the duchies of Milan and Montferrat; on the south by the county of Nice and the territory of Genoa; on the west by France; and on the north by Savoy.

In former times it constituted a part of Lombardy, but more recently has been subject to the king of Sardinia, who takes up his residence at Turin, the capital of the province, and one of the finest cities in Europe. It is an extensive tract of rich and fruitful valleys, embosomed in mountains which are encircled again with mountains higher than they, intersected with deep and rapid rivers, and exhibiting in strong contrast, the beauty and plenty of Paradise, in sight of frightful precipices, wide lakes of ice, and stupendous mountains of never-wasting snow. The whole country is an interchange of hill and dale; mountain and valley — traversed with four principal rivers, viz. the Po, the Tanaro, the Stura, and the Dora, besides about eight and twenty rivulets great and small, which, winding their courses in different directions, contribute to the fertility of the valleys, and make them resemble a watered garden.

The principal valleys are Aosta and Susa on the north — Stura on the south — and in the interior of the country, Lucerna, Angrogna, Raccapiatta, Pramol, Perosa, and S. Martino. The valley of Clusone, or Pragela, as it is often called, was in ancient times a part of the province of Dauphiny in France, and has been, from the days of Hannibal, the ordinary rout of the French and other armies, when marching into Italy.

Angrogna, Pramol, and S. Martino are strongly fortified by nature on account of their many difficult passes and bulwarks of rocks and mountains; as if the all wise Creator, says Sir Samuel Motland, 2 had, from the beginning, designed that place as a cabinet, wherein to put some inestimable jewel, or in which to reserve many thousand souls, which should not bow the knee before Baal.

Several of these valleys are described by our geographers as being remarkably rich and fruitful — as fertile and pleasant as any part of Italy.

In the mountains are mines of gold, silver, brass, and iron; the rivers abound with a variety of exquisite fish; the forests and the fields with game; while the soil yields every thing necessary to the enjoyment of human life, — abundance of corn, rice, wine, fruits, hemp, and cattle.

Throughout the whole territory, except on the tops of the mountains, there is to be found great plenty of fruits, especially of chesnuts which the inhabitants gather in immense quantities, and after drying them in an oven or upon a kiln, they manufacture from them an excellent kind of biscuit, which in France they call marroons, and where they are in high estimation as a species of confectionary. They first of all string them, as they do their beads or chaplets, and then hang them up in some humid place for their better preservation. As the bread made from the chesnut constitutes a considerable part of the food of the inhabitants of Piedmont, it is a common practice among them, after reserving what may be necessary for their own sustenance, to sell or exchange the surplus with the inhabitants of the plain for corn or other commodities.

In the patriarchal age of the world, when the people of the east had parceled out the country into many separate states, some savage and others civilized, it is said of the Hebrews, that they went from one nation to another; from one kingdom to another people. In the middle ages, the same spirit prevailed over the west. Petty chiefs assumed independence, and formed a vast number of separate kingdoms. Reputed heretics, like the ancient Israelites, emigrated from place to place, taking up their abode only where they could enjoy the privileges of religious liberty.

The Pyrenean mountains, which separate France and Spain, extend from the Mediterranean sea to the Atlantic ocean, that is, at least two hundred miles, and in breadth at several places more than one hundred. The surface is, as may naturally be expected, wonderfully diversified. Hills rise upon hills, and mountains over mountains, some bare of verdure, and others crowned with forests of huge cork trees, oak, beech, chesnuts, and evergreens.

When travelers of taste pass over them, they are in raptures and seem at a loss for words to express what they behold. The landscape, say they, on every side is divine. More delightful prospects never existed even in the creative imagination of Claude Lorraine. 3 In some places are bleak, perpendicular rocks and dangerous precipices; in others beautiful, fertile, and very extensive valleys, adorned with aloes, and wild promegranates; enriched with olives, lemons, oranges, apples, corn, flax; and perfumed with aromatic herbs, and animated with venison and wild fowl. Numerous flocks of sheep and goats enliven the hills, manufacturers of wool inhabit the valleys, and corn and wine, flax and oil, hang on the slopes.

Inexhaustible mines of the finest iron in the world abound there, and the forests supply them with plenty of timber. There are whole towns of smiths, who carry on the manufacture of all sorts of iron work, especially for the use of the military and navy, and their workmanship is much extolled. This chain of mountains runs from the Bay of Biscay to the Bay of Roses, and the sea-ports about each of them were accustomed to be crowded with inhabitants, commerce, plenty and wealth.

A spectator, taking his stand on the top of the ridge of these mountains, will observe, that at the foot, on the Spanish side, lie Asturias, Old Castile, Arragon, and Catalonia; and on the French side, Guienne and Languedoc, Toulouse, Bearn, Alby, Roussillon, and Narbonne, all of which places were remarkable in the darkest times for harboring Christians who were reputed heretics. 4 Indeed, from the borders of Spain, throughout the greatest part of the south of France, among and below the Alps, along the Rhine, and even to Bohemia, thousands of the disciples of Christ, as will hereafter be shown, were found, even in the very worst of times, preserving the faith in its purity, adhering to the simplicity of Christian worship, patiently bearing the cross after Christ: men distinguished by their fear of God and obedience to his will, and persecuted only for righteousness’ sake.

Voltaire has so justly and beautifully described the general state of Italy, as it existed at a period some little time subsequent to that of which I am about to treat, that, I shall here introduce his words. “In the beautiful and trading cities of Italy,” says he, “the people lived in ease and affluence.

With them alone the sweets of life seem to have taken up their residence, and riches and liberty inspired their genius and elevated their courage.

Notwithstanding the dissensions that prevailed every where, they began to emerge from that brutality which had in a manner overwhelmed Europe after the decline of the Roman empire. The necessary arts had never been entirely lost. The artificers and merchants, whose humble station had protected them from the ambitious fury of the great, were like ants, who dug themselves peaceable and secure habitations, while the vultures and eagles of the world were tearing one another in pieces.” This pleasing picture, which, no doubt, is very correct, as it respects the civil affairs of men, is equally applicable to the inhabitants of Piedmont and the Pyrenees, as to those states of Italy of whom Voltaire speaks; but if applied to the concerns of the kingdom of heaven, the felicity resulting from it will be found to have been almost exclusively theirs, during several of the succeeding centuries. I shall not, however, with the view of justifying this remark, here anticipate occurrences which will come more properly under the reader’s notice in prosecuting that branch of ecclesiastical history, on which we are about to enter.

The former chapter affords an ample insight into the gradual encroachments and domineering influence of the church of Rome, during the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries. But it ought to be noticed, that neither the prevailing corruptions of that church, nor the arrogant claims of its successive popes, were implicitly allowed by all the other bishops and churches, even in Italy itself. “In the year 590, the bishops of Italy and the Grisons (Swisserland), to the number of nine, rejected the communion of the Pope, as of an heretic. This schism had already continued from the year 553, and towards the close of the century, the emperor Maurice, having ordered them to be present at the council of Rome, they were dispensed with by the same emperor, upon their protesting that they could not communicate with Pope Gregory I; so little were they persuaded at that time of the Pope’s infallibility, that to lose communion with him was to lose the communion of the church, or that they held their ordinations from the hand of the Popes, and from the bishops subjected to their jurisdiction.” In the following century a firm and noble stand was made against the papal usurpations by Paulinus, bishop of the church of Aquileia, in Italy. This venerable man was born about the year 726, near Friuli; but of the earlier part of his life, we know little more than that he was in great favor with Charles the Great, king of France, and preached the gospel to the Pagans of Carinthia and Styria, and to the Avares, a nation of Huns. In the year 776, he was ordained bishop of Aquileia, in which office he continued laboring till his death, which took place in 804. He seems to have possessed a strong and an enlightened mind, for there are few of the abominations of his times which he does not appear to have combated. In the year 787, he, and some other Italian bishops agreed to condemn the decrees of the famous second council of Nice, which had established the worship of images, declaring it to be idolatrous, and that, too, notwithstanding the council had received the sanction of pope Adrian, who was present at its deliberations, and exerted all his authority to maintain its decisions. This shows that, at this time, the despotism of Antichrist was not universally owned, even throughout Italy itself. The city of Rome and its environs seem to have been at that period the most corrupt part of Christendom in Europe.

Amongst other corruptions which prevailed, the doctrine of transubstantiation then began to be generally propagated. Paulinus undertook to refute that absurdity, in a treatise on the eucharist, which he wrote at the request of Charles the Great, and which he dedicated to that monarch. He affirms that the eucharist was a morsel or bit of bread, and that it is either death or life to him that partakes of it, according as he hath or hath not faith in that which is signified by it. He pours the utmost contempt upon the sacrifice of the mass, opens up the scripture doctrine of Christ’s priestly office, as after the order of Melchisedec, vindicates his incarnation and crucifixion as the true propitiatory sacrifice for sin, and thunders out the boldest anathemas against all human satisfactions, maintaining that the blood of none of those who have themselves been redeemed is capable of blotting out the least sin, for that this privilege comes alone through the Lord Jesus Christ. “The Son of God,” says he, “our Almighty Lord, because he redeemed us by the price of his blood, is properly called the true Redeemer by all that are redeemed by him. He, I say, was not redeemed, because he was never captive; but we are redeemed, who were captives sold under sin, and bound by the handwriting that was against us, which he took away, blotting it out with his blood, which the blood of no other redeemer could do, and fixed it to his cross, openly triumphing over it in himself.”

In opposition to the Arians, who attributed to Christ only an adopted Sonship, he thus illustrates John 6:32-58. “Is it said, that he who doth not eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, hath not eternal life? “He that eats my flesh,” saith Christ, “and drinks my blood, hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day; my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.”

The power of raising up at the last day belongs to none but the true God; for the flesh and blood cannot be referred to his divine, but to his human nature, by which he is the Son of man. And yet if that Son of man, whose flesh and blood this is, (for that one and the same person is both the Son of God and Son of man) were not really God, his flesh and blood could not procure eternal life to those that eat them. Hence the evangelist John saith, “The blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth from all sin.” Moreover, whose flesh and blood is it that gives life to those that eat and drink them, but the Son of Man’s, whom God the Father hath sealed; who is the true and almighty Son of God. ForHE, the bread of life, came down from heaven for us, and gives his life for the world, to the end that whosoever eats thereof, shall live for ever.” In reference to Christ’s intercession, he says, “He is called the Mediator, because he is a middle person between both the disagreeing parties, and reconciles both of them in one. Paul is not a mediator, but a faithful ambassador of the Mediator.” He then quotes his words, “We are ambassadors for Christ, praying you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.” “Our advocate,” says he, “is one that intercedes for those that are already reconciled, even as our Redeemer doth, when he shows his human nature to God the Father, in the unity of his person, being God-man. John doth not intercede for us, but declares Him (Jesus)to be the propitiation for our sins.”

These extracts, which might be enlarged to a great extent, are sufficient to give the intelligent reader some idea of the doctrinal principles of Paulinus.

He denied the supremacy of Peter over the rest of the apostles — lays it down as an inviolable maxim of Christianity, that God alone is the object of our faith, in opposition to what was taught in the church of Rome — and, in short, to quote the words of a learned writer, — “Whoever examines the opinions of this bishop, will easily perceive that he denies what the church of Rome affirms with relation to many of its leading tenets, and affirms what the church of Rome denies: and whatever colorable pretexts may be employed, it will be difficult not to perceive this opposition through them all.” But the succession of events now leads me to call the reader’s attention to the life and labors ofCLAUDE,BISHOP OF TURIN. This truly great man, who has not improperly been called the first Protestant reformer, was born in Spain. In his early years he was a chaplain in the court of the emperor Lewis the Meek (Ludovicus Pius, king of France and emperor of the West) and was even then in high repute for his knowledge of the Scriptures, and his first-rate talents as a preacher; in consequence of which, says the Abbe Fleury, Lewis perceiving the deplorable ignorance of a great part of Italy, in regard to the doctrines of the gospel, and desirous of providing the churches of Piedmont with one who might stem the growing torrent of image worship, promoted Claude to the see of Turin, about the year 817. In this event, the attentive reader will hereafter perceive the hand of God so ordering the course of events in his holy providence as, in the very worst of times, to prepare, “a seed to serve him, and a generation to call him blessed.” The expectations of the emperor were amply justified in the labors of Claude; by his writings he ably illustrated the sacred Scriptures, and drew the attention of multitudes to their plain and simple meaning, unadulterated by the corrupt glosses of the Catholic priesthood. “In truth,” says Fleury, himself a Catholic writer, “he began to preach and instruct with great application.” His first zeal was directed against images, relics, pilgrimages, and crosses. It is not to be supposed that efforts such as his, directed against the prevailing superstitions of the age, should produce no ostensible effect; the monks were presently up in arms against him, reviling him as a blasphemer and a heretic, and his own people became so refractory that, in a little time, he went about in fear of his life. Supported, however, by the testimony of a good conscience, and a confidence in the goodness of his cause, Claude persevered, and wrote comments on several books of scripture, of which, unfortunately, the only one that has been printed is his Exposition of the Epistle to the Galatians. “He bore a noble testimony,” says Mr. Robinson (in his Ecclesiastical Researches, p. 447) against the prevailing errors of his time, and was undoubtedly a most respectable character.”

Of one whose reputation stands so high, it cannot be necessary to enter upon any formal vindication against the calumnies of his opponents, but it may be satisfactory to the reader to have before him a summary of the principles which he held, and for which he nobly contended. Let it be observed then, that, throughout the whole of his writings, he maintains that “Jesus Christ is the alone head of the church.” This, the reader will perceive, struck immediately at the root of the first principle of Popery — the vicarious office of the bishop of Rome. He utterly discards the doctrine of human worthiness in the article of justification, in such a manner, as overthrows all the subtle distinctions of Papists on the subject.

He pronounces anathemas against traditions in matters of religion, and thus drew the attention of men to the word of God, and that alone, as the ground of a Christian’s faith. He maintained, that men are justified by faith, without the deeds of the law — the doctrine which Luther, seven hundred years afterwards, so ably contended for, and which so excessively provoked the advocates of the church of Rome. He contended that the church was subject to error, and denied that prayers for the dead can be of any use to those that have demanded them; while he lashed, in the severest manner, the superstition and idolatry which every where abounded under the countenance and authority of the see of Rome.

The writings of Claude were voluminous; for he was indefatigable in explaining the Scriptures, and in opposing the torrent of superstition. He wrote three books upon Genesis in the year 815, and also a Commentary on the Gospel by Matthew, of which there are several copies in England.

He wrote a Commentary on Exodus in the year 821, and another on Leviticus in 823, besides which, he wrote comments on all the apostolic epistles , which have been since found, in manuscript in two vols. in the Abbey of Fleury, near Orleans, in France. These latter were drawn up at the express request of the emperor, Ludovicus Pius, to whom he dedicated his Commentary on the Epistle to the Ephesians; also of Justus, bishop of Charroux, and of Dructeramnus, an abbot of celebrity, to whom he dedicated his Comment on the Epistle to the Galatians. As a specimen of his style and sentiments, the reader may take the following extracts from his illustration of the Lord’s supper. “The apostles being sat down at table, Jesus Christ took bread, blessed and brake it, and gave it to his disciples, saying to them, Take, and eat — this is my body. The ancient solemnities of the passover, which were used in commemoration of the deliverance of the children of Israel, being ended, he passeth on to the new, because he would have the same to be celebrated in his church, as a memorial of the mystery of her redemption, and to substitute the sacrament of his body, and of his blood, instead of the flesh and blood of the paschal lamb; and to show that it was he himself to whom God had sworn, and shall never repent, ‘Thou art the eternal Priest according to the order of Melchisedec.’ Moreover, he himself breaks the bread which he gives the disciples, that he might represent and make it appear, that the breaking of his body would not be contrary to his inclination, or without his willingness to die; but as he himself elsewhere says, that he had power to give his life, and to deliver it up himself, as well as to take it again, and raise himself from the dead. He blessed the bread before he brake it, to teach us that he intended to make a sacrament of it. When he drew nigh to the time of his death and passion, it is said, that, having taken the bread and cup, he gave thanks to his Eternal Father. He who had taken upon him to expiate the iniquities of others, gave thanks to his Father, without having done any thing that was worthy of death: He blesseth it with profound humility at the very time that he saw himself laden with stripes, no doubt to teach us that submission which we ought to exercise [under the chastening hand of God.] If he, who was innocent, endured, with meekness and tranquillity, the stripes due to the iniquities of others, it was to teach and instruct us what we ought to do when corrected for our own transgressions. In regard to his saying, “This is my blood of the New Testament,” it is to teach us to distinguish between the new covenant and the old — the latter of which was consecrated by the effusion of the blood of goats and oxen, as the [Jewish] lawgiver said at the sprinkling of it, “This is the blood of the covenant that God hath commanded you:” For it was necessary that the patterns of true things should be purified by these, but that the heavenly places should be purified with more excellent sacrifices, according to what the apostle Paul declares throughout his whole epistle to the Hebrews, where he makes a distinction between the law and the gospel. Jesus Christ, when about to suffer, says, “I will drink no more of this fruit of the vine, until the day that I shall drink it new with you in the kingdom of my Father.” As if he had plainly said, “I will no longer take delight in the carnal ceremonies of the synagogue, amongst the number of which, the great festival of the paschal lamb was one of the chiefest; for the time of my resurrection is at hand; that day will arrive, when I shall be lifted up to my heavenly kingdom, even to a state of glorious immortality, where I shall be filled together with you, with a new joy for the salvation of my people, which shall be born again in the spring of one and the same grace. The “new wine,” may also import the immortality of our renewed bodies; for when he saith, “I will drink it with you,” he promises them the resurrection of their bodies, in order to their being clothed with immortality.”

In the year 828, Claude was attacked most fiercely by a French monkish writer of the name of Dungalus, who censures him for taking upon himself, after a lapse of more than eight hundred and twenty years, to reprove those things that had hitherto been in continual use, as if there had been none before himself that had ever had any zeal for religion. About the same time another writer of the same school, whose name was Theodemirus, wrote to him, giving him to understand that his opinions and behavior every where gave great offense. His answer to these writers was such as made it quite unnecessary for him to write another treatise on the same or a similar occasion; and in the following extracts from it, the reader may almost persuade himself that he is perusing the pages of the immortal Luther. “I have received,” says he to Theodemirus, “by a special messenger, your letter, with the articles, wholly stuffed with babbling and fooleries. You declare in these articles, that you have been troubled that my fame was spread not only throughout all Italy, but also in Spain and elsewhere; as if I were preaching a new doctrine, or setting myself up as the founder of a new sect, contrary to the rules of the ancient Catholic faith, which is an absolute falsehood. But it is no wonder that the members of Satan should talk of me at this rate, since they called [Christ] our Head a deceiver, and one that had a devil, etc. For, I teach no new heresy, but keep myself to the pure truth , preaching and publishing nothing but that. On the contrary, as far as in me lies, I have repressed, opposed, cast down, and destroyed, and do still repress, oppose and destroy, to the utmost of my power, all sects, schisms, superstitions, and heresies, and shall never cease so to do, God being my helper, as far as in me lies. “When I came to Turin, I found all the churches full of abominations and images; and because I began to destroy what every one adored, every one began to open his mouth against me.

These kind of people against whom we have undertaken to defend the church of God, tell us, if you write upon the wall, or draw the images of Paul, of Jupiter, of Saturn, or Mercury, neither are the one of these gods, nor the other apostles, and neither the one nor the other of these are men, and therefore the name is changed. But, surely, if we ought to worship them, we ought rather, to worship them during their life time, than as thus represented as the portraits of beasts, or (what is yet more true) of stone or wood, which have neither, life, feeling, nor reason. For if we may neither worship nor serve the works of God’s hand, how much less may we worship the works of men’s hands and pay adoration to them in honor of those whose remembrance we say they are? For if the image you worship is not God, wherefore dost thou bow down to false images; and wherefore, like a slave, dost thou bend thy body to pitiful shrines, and to the work of men’s hands? Certainly, not only he who serves and honors visible images, but also whatsoever creature else, whether heavenly or earthly, spiritual or corporeal, serves the same instead of God, and from it expects the salvation of his soul, which he ought to look for from God alone. All such are of the number of those concerning whom the apostle said, that “they worshipped and served the creature more-than the Creator.” “But mark what the followers of superstition and false religion allege! They tell us it is in commemoration and honor of our Savior that we serve, honor, and adore the cross — persons whom nothing in the Savior pleaseth, but that which was pleasing to the ungodly, viz. the reproach of his sufferings and the token of his death. Hereby they evince that they perceive only of him, what the wicked saw and perceived of him, whether Jews, or heathens, who do not see his resurrection, and do not consider him but as altogether swallowed up of death, without regarding what the apostle says, “We know Jesus Christ no longer according to the flesh.” “God commands one thing, and these people do quite the contrary.

God commands us to bear our cross, and not to worship it; but these are all for worshipping it, whereas they do not bear it at all — to serve God after this manner, is to go a-whoring from him. For if we ought to adore the cross, because Christ was fastened to it, how many other things are there which touched Jesus Christ, and which he made according to the flesh? Did he not continue nine months in the womb of the virgin? Why do they not then on the same score worship all that are virgins, because a virgin brought forth Jesus Christ? Why do they not adore mangers and old clothes, because he was laid in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes? Why do they not adore fishing-boats, because he slept in one of them, and [from it] preached to the multitudes, and caused a net to be cast out, wherewith was caught a miraculous quantity of fish.? Let them adore asses, because he entered into Jerusalem upon the foal of an ass; and lambs, because it is written of him, “Behold the lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.”

But these sorts of men would rather eat live lambs than worship their images! Why do they not worship lions, because he is called “the lion of the tribe of Judah?” or rocks, since it is said “and that rock was Christ?” or thorns, because he was crowned with them? or lances, because one of them pierced his side? “All these things are ridiculous, and rather to be lamented than set forth in writing; but we are compelled to state them in opposition to fools, and to declaim against those hearts of stone, which the arrows and sentences of the word of God cannot pierce. Come to yourselves again, ye miserable transgressors; why are ye gone astray from the truth, and why, having become vain, are ye fallen in love with vanity? Why do you crucify again the Son of God, and expose him to open shame, and by these means make souls, by troops, to become the companions of devils, estranging them from their Creator, by the horrible sacrilege of your images and likenesses, and thus precipitating them into everlasting damnation? “As for your reproaching me, that I hinder men from running in pilgrimage to Rome, I demand of you yourself, whether thou thinkest that to go to Rome is to repent, or to do penance? If indeed it be, why then hast thou for so long a time damned so many souls by confining them in thy monastery, and whom thou hast taken into it, that they might there do penance, if it be so that the way to do penance is to go to Rome, and yet thou hast hindered them? What hast thou to say against this sentence, ‘Whosoever shall lay a stone of stumbling before any of these little ones, it were better for him that a millstone were hung about his neck, and he cast into the bottom of the sea?’ “We know very well that this passage of the gospel is quite misunderstood — ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven;’ under the pretense of which words, the stupid and ignorant multitude destitute of all spiritual knowledge, betake themselves to Rome, in the hope of acquiring eternal life. But the ministry [of the gospel] belongs to all the true presbyters and pastors of the church, who discharge the same as long as they are in this world, and when they have paid the debt of death, others succeed in their places, who possess the same authority and power. “Return, O ye blind, to your light; return to him who enlightens every man that cometh into the world. All of you, however numerous ye may be, who depart from this light, ye walk in darkness, and know not whither ye go, for the darkness has put out your eyes. If we are to believe God when he promiseth, how much more when he swears, and saith, If Noah, Daniel, and Job, (that is, if the saints whom you call upon, were endowed with holiness, righteousness, and merit, equal to theirs,) they shall neither deliver son nor daughter; and it is for this end he makes the declaration, that none might place their confidence, in either the merits or the intercession of saints. Understand ye this, ye people without understanding? Ye fools, when will ye be wise? Ye who run to Rome, there to seek for the intercession of an apostle. “The fifth thing for which you reproach me is — that you are much displeased, because ‘the apostolic lord’ (for so you are pleased to nominate the late Pope Paschal) had honored me with this charge. But you should remember, that he only is apostolic who is the keeper and guardian of the apostle’s doctrine, and not he who boasts himself of being seated in the chair of the apostle, and in the mean time neglects to acquit himself of the apostolic charge; for the Lord saith, that the Scribes and Pharisees sat in Moses’ seat.” From these extracts, some estimate may be formed of the principles and character of Claude of Turin — a name less known in the present day, and a character less honored, than they deserve. By his preaching, and by his valuable writings, he disseminated the doctrine of the kingdom of heaven — and, although the seed were as a grain of mustard seed cast into the earth, the glorious effects ultimately produced by it, justify the truth of our Lord’s parable, that when it is grown up, it produceth a tree, whose branches are so ramified and extended, that the birds of the air come and lodge therein. His doctrine grew exceedingly — the valleys of Piedmont were in time filled with his disciples, and while midnight darkness sat enthroned over almost every portion of the globe, theWALDENSES, which is only another name for the inhabitants of these valleys, preserved the gospel among them in its native purity, and rejoiced in its glorious light.

Claude continued his labors at Turin at least twenty years, for he was alive in eight hundred and thirty-nine — but we have no documents existing that enable us to trace out the operation of his principles in the formation of independent churches, in a state of separation from the world; and it is very probable that during the life of this venerable man, but few attempts of this kind were made. The Catholic writers, particularly Genebrard in his Chronology, and also Rorenco, have explicitly owned, that “the valleys of Piedmont, which belonged to the bishoprick of Turin, preserved the opinions of Claude in the ninth and tenth centuries;” and, in the account of thePATERINES, which we shall soon arrive at, we shall see how extensively they spread not only in Piedmont, but throughout the neighboring country of the Milanese. “It is admitted,” says Mr. Robinson, “that if the Waldenses had reasoned consequentially on the principles of their master, they would, after his death, have dissented, but there is no evidence that they did reason so.” He, therefore, is of opinion, that some considerable time elapsed (probably half-a-century,) before they broke off all communion with the established church.

It will, no doubt, appear a matter of surprise to some, that an opposer so zealous and intrepid as Claude certainly was, should have escaped the fury of the church of Rome. But it should be remembered, that the despotism of that wicked court had not yet arrived at its plenitude of power and intolerance. To which may be added as another very probable reason, that some of the European monarchs viewed the domineering influence of the bishops of Rome with considerable jealousy, and gladly extended their protection to those whose labors had a tendency to reduce it; such was at this time the case with the court of France in regard to Claude. It is, nevertheless, sufficiently manifest, that this great man held his life in continual jeopardy. “In standing up,” says he, “for the confirmation and defense of the truth, I am become a reproach to my neighbors, to that degree, that those who see us do not only scoff at us, but point at us one to another. But God, the father of mercies, and author of all consolation, hath comforted us in all our afflictions, that we may be able, in like manner, to comfort those that are cast down with sorrow and affliction.

We rely upon the protection of him who hath armed and fortified us with the armor of righteousness and of faith, the tried shield of our salvation.” 9 SECTION The state of the Catholic Church from the ninth to the twelfth century. A.D. 800 — 1200. THE ninth and tenth centuries of the Christian era, are universally allowed to form the lowest point of depression to which the profession of the religion of Jesus was reduced in regard to darkness and superstition. It will not, therefore, be necessary to detain the reader long from subjects of a more pleasing nature, by dwelling very minutely upon the state of things during this period. The fact is acknowledged by the papists themselves; by Caranza, Genebrard, Baronius, and others, who describe the tenth century as a monstrous age . The language of the latter writer indeed, is so remarkable, that it deserves to be quoted. Alluding to Psalm 44:23, he says, “Christ was then, as it would appear, in a deep sleep, and the ship was covered with waves; and what seemed worse, when the Lord was thus asleep, there were no disciples, by their cries to awaken him, being themselves all fast asleep.” It may not, however, be without its use to take a rapid glance at the proceedings of the court of Rome, and mark the stages by which the antichristian power arrived at its zenith.

On entering upon this subject, there is one remarkable circumstance which merits the reader’s notice as he proceeds, for the fact is worthy of his attention. It has fallen to our lot, through the good providence of God, to see this monstrous power, which for a succession of ages tyrannized over the bodies and souls of men, virtually annihilated by the power of France.

What the reader should particularly remark is, that it was by the aid of that same power, in a very especial manner, that the “Man of Sin” was elevated to his throne. It can scarcely be necessary to recall to his recollection the intrigues between the popes and French monarchs, of which I have given a short detail in a former section. The sequel will appear to be quite in character; but we must go back a little to trace the subject in order.

On the death of Pepin, king of France, in the year 768, his dominions were divided between his two sons, Charles and Carloman, the latter of whom dying two years afterwards, Charles became sole monarch of that country.

In his general character, he somewhat resembled our English Alfred, and is deservedly ranked amongst the most illustrious sovereigns that have appeared — a rare instance of a monarch, who united his own glory with the happiness of his people. In private life he was amiable; an affectionate father, a fond husband, and a generous friend. Though engaged in many wars, he was far from neglecting the arts of peace, the welfare of his subjects, or the cultivation of his own mind. Government, morals, religion, and letters, were his constant pursuits. He frequently convened the national assemblies, for regulating the affairs both of church and state. His attention extended to the most distant corner of his empire, and to all ranks of men. His house was a model of economy, and his person of simplicity and true grandeur. “For shame,” he would say to some of his nobles, who were more finely dressed than the occasion required, “learn to dress like men, and let the world judge of your rank by your merit, not your dress. Leave silks and finery to women, or reserve them for those days of pomp and ceremony when robes are worn for show, not use.” He was fond of the company of learned men, and assembled them from all parts of Europe, forming in his palace a kind of royal academy, of which he condescended to become a member, and of which he made Alcuin, our learned countryman, 1 the head; at the same time honoring him as his companion and particular favorite. “The dignity of his person, the length of his reign, the prosperity of his arms, the vigor of his government, and the reverence of distant nations, distinguish Charles from the royal crowd: and Europe dates a new era from his restoration of the western empire.” But with all these amiable traits in the character of Charles the Great (or Charlemagne, as he is usually called) a superstitious attachment to the see of Rome, unhappily mingled itself with all his policy, and led him to engage in theological disputes and quibbles unworthy of his character. 3 It would have been well for his memory, indeed, had he stopped there; but a blind zeal for the propagation of Christianity, which extinguished his natural feelings, made him guilty of severities which shock humanity. One of the leading objects of his reign, was the conversion of the Saxons, a nation of Germany, to the Christian faith. He seems to have considered a reception of the mild doctrines of Christianity as the best means of taming a savage people, and to accomplish this he sent his armies to invade their country. After a number of battles gallantly fought, and many cruelties committed on both sides, the Saxons were totally subjected; but as they were no less tenacious of their religious than of their civil liberty, persecution marched in the train of war, and stained with blood the fetters of slavery. Four thousand five hundred of their principal men, because they refused, on a particular occasion, to give up their celebrated general, Witikind, were ordered to be massacred — an instance of severity scarcely to be paralleled in the history of mankind, especially if we consider that the Saxons were not the natural subjects of Charles, but an independent people struggling for freedom. He compelled the Saxons, under pain of death , to receive baptism; condemned to the severest punishments the breakers of Lent, and every where substituted force for persuasion.

As the little learning which, at that period, remained among mankind, was monopolized by the clergy, it cannot excite our surprise that they obtained the most signal marks of his favor. He established the payment of tithes, and admitted the clergy into the national assemblies, associating them with the secular nobles in the administration of justice; in return for which, they honored him with the most marked distinctions, permitting him to sit in councils purely ecclesiastical. Accordingly, in the year 794, we find him seated on a throne in the council of Frankfort, with one of the pope’s legates on each hand, and three hundred bishops waiting his nod.

The object of that council was to investigate the sentiments of two Spanish bishops, who, to refute the accusation of Polytheism, brought against the Christians by the Jews and Mahommedans, gave up the proper divinity of Jesus Christ, and maintained that he was the Son of God only by adoption. The monarch opened the assembly, and proposed the condemnation of this heresy. The council decided conformably to his will; and in a letter to the churches of Spain, in consequence of that decision, Charles expressed himself in these remarkable words: “You entreated me to judge of myself; I have done so. I have assisted as an auditor and an arbiter in an assembly of bishops; we have examined; and by the grace of God, we have settled what must be believed!”

It was during the reign of Charles the Great, that the empress Irene convened the second council of Nice for the purpose of re-establishing the use of images, which Leo IV. and his son Constantine Copronymus had exerted themselves so much to suppress. That council accordingly decreed that we ought to render to images an honorary worship, but not a real adoration, the latter being due to God alone. Whether designedly or not, but so it was, that in the translation of the Acts of this council, which pope Adrian sent into France, the meaning of the article which respected images was entirely perverted, for it ran thus: “I receive and honor images according to that adoration which I pay to the Trinity.” Charles was so shocked at this impiety, that in the effervescence of his zeal, and with the aid of the clergy, he drew up a treatise, called the Caroline books, in which he treated the Nicene council with the utmost contempt and abuse. He transmitted his publication to Adrian, desiring him to excommunicate the empress and her son. The pope excused himself on the score of images, rectifying the mistake upon which Charles had proceeded; but at the same time insinuated, that he would declare Irene and Constantine heretics, unless they restored some lands which formerly belonged to the church.

He also took the opportunity of hinting at certain projects which he had formed for the exaltation of the Romish church, and of the French monarchy. 4 “I cannot,” said he, “after what the council of Nice has done, declare Irene and her son heretics; but I shall declare them to be such, if they do not restore to me my patrimony in Sicily.”

In the year 796, Leo III. who had succeeded Adrian in the papacy, transmitted to Charles the Roman standard, requesting him to send some person to receive the oath of fidelity from the Romans, an instance of submission with which that monarch was highly flattered. Accordingly in the year 800, we find Charles at Rome, where he passed six days in private conferences with the pope. On Christmas day, as the king assisted at mass in St. Peter’s church, in the midst of the ecclesiastical ceremonies, and while upon his knees before the altar, the pope advanced and put an imperial crown upon his head. As soon as the people perceived it, they exclaimed, “Long life and victory to Charles Augustus, crowned by the hand of God! Long live the great and pious emperor of the Romans.” The supreme pontiff then conducted him to a magnificent throne, which had been prepared for the occasion, and as soon as he was seated, paid him those honors which his predecessors had been accustomed to pay to the Roman emperors. Leo now presented him with the imperial mantle, on being invested with which, Charles returned to his palace amidst the acclamations of the multitude.

Favors such as these that were conferred by the pontiff on the French monarch, imperiously called for an adequate return, and it is due to Charlemagne to say that he was by no means deficient in gratitude. His name, and those of his successors, are consecrated as the saviors and benefactors of the Roman church. The Greek emperor had abdicated or forfeited his right to the exarchate of Ravenna, and the sword of Pepin, the father of Charles, had no sooner wrested it from the grasp of Astolphus, than he conferred it on the Roman pontiff, as a recompense “for the remission of his sins and the salvation of his soul.” The splendid donation was granted in supreme and absolute dominion, and the world then beheld, for the first time, a Christian bishop invested with the prerogatives of a temporal prince; the choice of magistrates, and the exercise of justice; the imposition of taxes, and the wealth of the palace of Ravenna. “Perhaps,” says Gibbon, “the humility of a Christian priest should have rejected an earthly kingdom which it was not easy for him to govern without renouncing the virtues of his profession.” I feel no disposition to controvert the justice of this remark; but humility does not appear to have been a very prominent trait in the characters of the Roman pontiffs; and the profuse liberality of the French kings, at this time, was not much calculated to promote it among them. By their bounty, the ancient patrimony of the church, which consisted of farms and houses, was converted into the temporal dominion of cities and provinces. The cities and islands which had formerly been annexed to the exarchate of Ravenna, were now also, by the gratitude of Charles, yielded to the pope, to enlarge the circle of the ecclesiastical state; and the new emperor lived to behold in his ecclesiastical ally, a greatness which, in the cool moments of reflection, he was unable to contemplate without jealousy. But Charles died in the year 814, at Aix-la-Chapelle, his usual residence, in the seventy-second year of his age, and the forty-sixth of his reign. He had previously associated his son Louis with him in the administration of government; and, as if this great man had foreseen the approaching usurpations of the church, he placed the imperial crown upon the altar, and ordered the prince to put it on his own head, thereby intimating that he held it only of God.

The young prince, though very amiable in his disposition and manners, appears to have been much inferior to his father in strength of mind. I have already had occasion to mention him in a former section as the friend and patron of Claude of Turin. His piety and parental fondness are praised by historians, but his abilities were inadequate to the support of so great a weight of empire. He rendered himself odious to the clergy, by attempting to reform certain abuses among them, not foreseeing that this powerful body would not pay the same deference to his authority, which had been yielded to the superior capacity of his father. Three years after his accession to the throne, he admitted his eldest son, Lothaire, to a participation of the French and German territories, declared his son Pepin, king of Aquitaine, and Louis king of Bavaria. This division gave offense to his nephew, Bernard, at that time king of Italy, who revolted, and levied war against his uncle, in contempt of his imperial authority, to which he was subject — a rebellious conduct, in which he was encouraged by the archbishop of Milan and the bishop of Cremona. Louis, on this occasion, acted with rigor. He raised a powerful army, and was preparing to cross the Alps, when Bernard was abandoned by his troops, and the unfortunate prince, being made prisoner, was condemned to lose his head. His uncle mitigated the sentence to the loss of his eyes, but the unhappy prince died three days after the punishment was inflicted; and Louis, to prevent future troubles, ordered three natural sons of Charlemagne to be shut up in a convent.

In a little time the emperor was seized with keen remorse for his conduct.

He accused himself of the murder of his nephew, and of tyrannic cruelty to his brothers. In this melancholy humor he was encouraged by the monks; and it at last grew to such a height, that he impeached himself in an assembly of the states, and requested the bishops to enjoin him public penance. The clergy, now sensible of his weakness, set no bounds to their usurpations. The popes concluded that they might do any thing under so pious a prince. They did not wait for the emperor’s confirmation of their election; the bishops exalted themselves above the throne, and the whole fraternity of the Catholic clergy claimed an exemption from all civil jurisdiction. Even the monks, while they pretended to renounce the world, seemed to aspire to the government of it.

In the year 822, the three sons of Louis were associated in a rebellion against their father, — an unnatural crime, in which they were encouraged by some of the reigning clergy. The emperor, abandoned by his army, was made prisoner; and in all probability would have lost his crown had not the nobility pitied their humbled sovereign, and by sowing dissension among the three brothers, contrived to restore him to his dignity. In 832, the three brothers formed a new league against their father, and Gregory IV. then pope, went to France in the army of Lothaire, the eldest brother, under pretense of accommodating matters, but in reality with an intention of employing against the emperor that power which he derived from him, happy in the opportunity of asserting the supremacy and independence of the Holy See. The presence of the pope, in those days of superstition, was of itself sufficient to determine the fate of Louis. After a deceitful negotiation, and an interview with Gregory on the part of Lothaire, the unfortunate emperor found himself at the mercy of his rebellious sons. He was deposed in a tumultuous assembly, and Lothaire proclaimed in his stead; after which infamous transaction the pope returned to Rome.

To give stability to this revolution, and at the same time to conceal the deformity of their own conduct, the bishops of Lothaire’s faction had recourse to a curious artifice. “A penitent,” said they, “is incapable of all civil offices; a royal penitent must therefore be incapable of reigning; let us subject Louis to a perpetual penance, and he can never reascend the throne.” He was accordingly arraigned in an assembly of the states, by Ebbo, archbishop of Rheims, and condemned to do penance for life.

Louis was then prisoner in a monastery at Soissons, and being greatly intimidated, he patiently submitted to a ceremony no less solemn than degrading, lie prostrated himself on a hair cloth, which was spread before the altar, and owned himself guilty of the charges brought against him, in the presence of many bishops, canons, and monks — Lothaire being also present, that he might enjoy the sight of his father’s humiliation. Nor was this all; the degraded emperor was compelled to read aloud a written confession, in which he was made to accuse himself of sacrilege and murder; and to enumerate among his crimes, the marching of troops in Lent, calling an assembly on Holy Thursday, and taking up arms to defend himself against his rebellious children! So easy is it for superstition to transform into crimes the most innocent, and even the most necessary actions. After having made this humiliating confession, Louis, at the command of the archbishop, laid aside his sword and belt, divested himself of his royal robes, put on the penitential sackcloth, and retired to the cell that was assigned him.

But the feelings of nature, and the voice of humanity, at length prevailed over the prejudices of the age and the policy of the clergy. Lothaire became an object of general abhorrence, and his father of compassion. His two brothers united against him, in behalf of that father whom they had contributed to humble. The nobility returned to their obedience, paying homage to Louis as their lawful sovereign; and the ambitious Lothaire was obliged to crave mercy in the sight of the whole army, at the feet of a parent and an emperor, whom he had lately insulted. Louis died in the year 840 near Mentz, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, and the twentyseventh of his reign, leaving to his unnatural son Lothaire a crown, a sword, and a very rich scepter. The bishop of Mentz observing that he had left nothing to his son Louis, reminded him that at the least, forgiveness was his duty; “Yes, I forgive him,” cried the dying prince, with great emotion; “but tell him from me that he ought to seek forgiveness of God, for bringing my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave.” Lothaire succeeded his father in the imperial dignity, and, after a reign of fifteen years, took the habit of a monk, that, according to the language of those times, he might atone for his crimes, and though he had lived a tyrant, die a saint. In this pious disguise he expired, before he had worn it a week.

His father Louis, by a second marriage, had a son who was afterwards known by the name of Charles the Bald. At the time of his father’s death he was only seventeen years of age; but his father, in bequeathing the empire to Lothaire, had stipulated for a portion of territory to his youngest child, and the former to fulfill the wishes of his indulgent father and intreaties of a fond mother, consented to resign to him a part of his territories. But scarcely was Charles warm in his seat, when he conspired with his brother Louis to dispossess Lothaire of the empire. Here fraternal hatred appeared in all its horrors. A battle was fought at Fontenoy, in Burgundy, than which, few engagements that are upon record were more bloody; for 100,000 men are said to have fallen on the spot. 6 Lothaire was defeated, and obliged to abandon France to the armies of his victorious brothers. To secure their conquest the latter applied to the clergy, and with the more confidence of success, as Lothaire, in order to raise his troops with greater expedition, had promised the Saxons the liberty of renouncing Christianity, the very idea of which was abhorred by the church of Rome. The bishops assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle, and after examining the misconduct of the emperor, inquired of the two princes, whether they chose to follow his example, or to govern according to the laws of God — by which they meant, in enforcing Christianity upon the Saxons. Their answer may be easily anticipated. “Receive then the kingdom by the divine authority,” added the prelates: “we exhort you, we command you to receive it.” But Lothaire, by means of his indulgence to the Saxons, and other expedients, was enabled to raise a new army, and to recover his throne. Nothing is more clear, than that the clergy now aspired to the right of disposing of crowns, which they founded on the ancient Jewish practice of anointing kings. They had recourse to the most miserable fictions and sophisms to render themselves independent. They refused to take the oath of fidelity, “because sacred hands could not, without abomination, submit to hands impure!” One usurpation led to another; abuse constituted right — a quibble appeared a divine law. Ignorance sanctified every thing, and the most enormous usurpations of the clergy obtained a ready sanction from the slavish superstition of the laity. One very popular argument which the former much insisted on was, that the splendor of their dignity was to the majesty of the emperors and kings as the effulgence of the sun to the borrowed light of the moon; and therefore they demanded and extorted from crowned heads the most extravagant marks of respect and the most debasing humiliations. They trumped up a collection of forged acts, known at present by the name of “TheDECRETALS,” spurious writings, in which are supposed the existence of ancient canons, ordaining that no provincial council shall be held without the permission of the pope; and that all ecclesiastical causes shall be under his jurisdiction. The words of the immediate successors of the apostles are also therein quoted, and they are supposed to have left writings behind them. All these being written in the wretched style of the eighth century, and the whole filled with blunders of the grossest kind, both historical and geographical, the artifice was sufficiently apparent; but they had only ignorant persons to deceive. These false decretals imposed upon mankind for eight hundred years, and though the fraud was at length detected, the customs established by them still subsist in some countries: their antiquity supplied the place of truth! The papal chair was filled about the middle of the ninth century by Nicholas I. one of the most obstinate, inflexible, and ambitious prelates that ever disgraced the priesthood. Even his own clergy, the bishop of Treves and Cologne accused him of making himself emperor of the world , an expression which, though somewhat strained, was not wholly without foundation. He asserted his dominion over the French clergy, and received appeals from all ecclesiastics, dissatisfied with their bishops. Hence he taught the people to acknowledge a supreme tribunal at a distance from their own country, and of course a foreign sway. He issued his orders in the most authoritative style, to regulate the disputed succession to the kingdom of Provence. “Let no one prevent the emperor,” says he, “from governing the