Part 14 (1/2)

1593-1595

Advice of the Duke of Sully.--Perplexity of Henry.--Theological argument of Sully.--Philip of Mornay, Lord of Plessis.--Inflexible integrity of Mornay.--Mornay's reply to Henry III.--Attempt to bribe Mornay.--His address to the courtiers.--Indecision of Henry.--Process of conversion.--Testimony of Sully.--Gabrielle d'Estrees.--Influence of Gabrielle.--Abjuration of Protestantism.--Public adoption of the Catholic faith.--Ceremony in the Church of St. Denis.--Alleged sincerity of the king.--Other motives a.s.signed.--Political effects of Henry's conversion.--Satisfaction of the people.--Ferocity of the Pope.--Coronation of the king.--Paris secretly surrendered.--The entry to Paris.--n.o.ble conduct.--Justice of Henry IV.--Joy in Paris.--Reconciliation with the Pope.--Henry chastised by proxy.--The farce.--Cause of the war.--The Protestants still persecuted.--Scene of ma.s.sacre.--Dissatisfaction of both Catholics and Protestants.--Complaints of the Reformed Churches of France.

This b.l.o.o.d.y war of the succession had now desolated France for four years. The Duke of Sully, one of the most conspicuous of the political Calvinists, was at last induced to give his influence to lead the king to accept the Catholic faith. Sully had been Henry's companion from childhood. Though not a man of deep religious convictions, he was one of the most ill.u.s.trious of men in ability, courage, and integrity.

Conversing with Henry upon the distracted affairs of state, he said, one day,

”That you should wait for me, being a Protestant, to counsel you to go to ma.s.s, is a thing you should not do, although I will boldly declare to you that it is the prompt and easy way of destroying all malign projects. You will thus meet no more enemies, sorrows, nor difficulties _in this world_. As to the _other world_,” he continued, smiling, ”I can not answer for that.”

The king continued in great perplexity. He felt that it was degrading to change his religion upon apparent compulsion, or for the accomplishment of any selfish purpose. He knew that he must expose himself to the charge of apostasy and of hypocrisy in affirming a change of belief, even to accomplish so meritorious a purpose as to rescue a whole nation from misery. These embarra.s.sments to a vacillating mind were terrible.

Early one morning, before rising, he sent for Sully. The duke found the king sitting up in his bed, ”scratching his head in great perplexity.” The political considerations in favor of the change urged by the duke could not satisfy fully the mind of the king. He had still some conscientious scruples, imbibed from the teachings of a pious and sainted mother. The ill.u.s.trious warrior, financier, and diplomatist now essayed the availability of theological considerations, and urged the following argument of Jesuitical shrewdness:

”I hold it certain,” argued the duke, ”that whatever be the exterior form of the religion which men profess, if they live in the observation of the Decalogue, believe in the Creed of the apostles, love G.o.d with all their heart, have charity toward their neighbor, hope in the mercy of G.o.d, and to obtain salvation by the death, merits, and justice of Jesus Christ, they can not fail to be saved.”

Henry caught eagerly at this plausible argument. The Catholics say that no Protestant can be saved, but the Protestants admit that a Catholic may be, if in heart honest, just, and true. The sophistry of the plea in behalf of an _insincere_ renunciation of faith is too palpable to influence any mind but one eager to be convinced. The king was counseled to obey the Decalogue, which _forbids false witness_, while at the same time he was to be guilty of an act of fraud and hypocrisy.

But Henry had another counselor. Philip of Mornay, Lord of Plessis, had imbibed from his mother's lips a knowledge of the religion of Jesus Christ. His soul was endowed by nature with the most n.o.ble lineaments, and he was, if man can judge, a devoted and exalted Christian. There was no one, in those stormy times, more ill.u.s.trious as a warrior, statesman, theologian, and orator. ”We can not,” says a French writer, ”indicate a species of merit in which he did not excel, except that he did not advance his own fortune.” When but twelve years of age, a priest exhorted him to beware of the opinions of the Protestants.

”I am resolved,” Philip replied, firmly, ”to remain steadfast in what I have learned of the service of G.o.d. When I doubt any point, I will diligently examine the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles.”

His uncle, the Archbishop of Rheims, advised him to read the fathers of the Church, and promised him the revenues of a rich abbey and the prospect of still higher advancement if he would adhere to the Catholic religion. Philip read the fathers and declined the bribe, saying,

”I must trust to G.o.d for what I need.”

Almost by a miracle he had escaped the Ma.s.sacre of St. Bartholomew and fled to England. The Duke of Anjou, who had become King of Poland, wis.h.i.+ng to conciliate the Protestants, wrote to Mornay in his poverty and exile, proposing to him a place in his ministry. The n.o.ble man replied,

”I will never enter the service of those who have shed the blood of my brethren.”

He soon joined the feeble court of the King of Navarre, and adhered conscientiously, through all vicissitudes, to the Protestant cause.

Henry IV. was abundantly capable of appreciating such a character, and he revered and loved Mornay. His services were invaluable to Henry, for he seemed to be equally skillful in nearly all departments of knowledge and of business. He could with equal facility guide an army, construct a fortress, and write a theological treatise. Many of the most important state papers of Henry IV. he hurriedly wrote upon the field of battle or beneath his wind-shaken tent. Henry III., on one occasion, had said to him,

”How can a man of your intelligence and ability be a Protestant? Have you never read the Catholic doctors?”

”Not only have I read the Catholic doctors,” Mornay replied, ”but I have read them with eagerness; for I am flesh and blood like other men, and I was not born without ambition. I should have been very glad to find something to flatter my conscience that I might partic.i.p.ate in the favors and honors you distribute, and from which my religion excludes me; but, above all, I find something which fortifies my faith, and the world must yield to conscience.”

The firm Christian principles of Philip of Mornay were now almost the only barrier which stood in the way of the conversion of Henry. The Catholic lords offered Mornay twenty thousand crowns of gold if he would no more awaken the scruples of the king. n.o.bly he replied,

”The conscience of my master is not for sale, neither is mine.”

Great efforts were then made to alienate Henry from his faithful minister. Mornay by chance one day entered the cabinet of the king, where his enemies were busy in their cabals. In the boldness of an integrity which never gave him cause to blush, he thus addressed them in the presence of the sovereign:

”It is hard, gentlemen, to prevent the king my master from speaking to his faithful servant. The proposals which I offer the king are such that I can p.r.o.nounce them distinctly before you all. I propose to him to serve G.o.d with a good conscience; to keep Him in view in every action; to quiet the schism which is in his state by a holy reformation of the Church, and to be an example for all Christendom during all time to come. Are these things to be spoken in a corner? Do you wish me to counsel him to go to ma.s.s? With what conscience shall I advise if I do not first go myself? And what is religion, if it can be laid aside like a s.h.i.+rt?”

The Catholic n.o.bles felt the power of this moral courage and integrity, and one of them, Marshal d'Aumont, yielding to a generous impulse, exclaimed,

”You are better than we are, Monsieur Mornay; and if I said, two days ago, that it was necessary to give you a pistol-shot in the head, I say to-day entirely the contrary, and that you should have a statue.”

Henry, however, was a politician, not a Christian; and nothing is more amazing than the deaf ear which even apparently good men can turn to the pleadings of conscience when they are involved in the mazes of political ambition. The process of conversion was, for decency's sake, protracted and ostentatious. As Henry probably had no fixed religious principles, he could with perhaps as much truth say that he was a Catholic as that he was a Protestant.

On the 23d of July the king listened to a public argument, five hours in length, from the Archbishop of Bourges, upon the points of essential difference between the two antagonistic creeds. Henry found the reasoning of the archbishop most comfortably persuasive, and, having separated himself for a time from Mornay, he professed to be solemnly convinced that the Roman Catholic faith was the true religion. Those who knew Henry the best declare that he was sincere in the change, and his subsequent life seems certainly to indicate that he was so. The Duke of Sully, who refused to follow Henry into the Catholic Church, records,