forged,—­a spirit scornful of old authorities, yet not sceptical, with disgust of the past and hope for the future, penetrating even the hamlets of the poor, and kindling the enthusiasm of princes and nobles, producing learned men in every country of Europe, whose original investigations should put to the blush the commentators and compilers of this age of religious mediocrity and disguised infidelity.  Such intellectual giants in the field of religious inquiry had not appeared since the Fathers of the Church combated the paganism of the Roman world, and will not probably appear again until the cycle of changes is completed in the domain of theological thought, and men are forced to meet the enemies of divine revelation marshalled in such overwhelming array that there will be a necessity for reformers, called out by a special Providence to fight battles,—­as I regard Luther and Calvin and Knox.  The great difference between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries, outside of material aspects, is that the former recognized the majesty of God, and the latter the majesty of man.  Both centuries believed in progress; but the sixteenth century traced this progress to first, and the nineteenth to second, causes.  The sixteenth believed that human improvement was owing directly to special divine grace, and the nineteenth believes in the necessary development of mankind.  The school of the sixteenth century was spiritual, that of the nineteenth is material; the former looked to heaven, the latter looks to earth.  The sixteenth regarded this world as a mere preparation for the next, and the nineteenth looks upon this world as the future scene of indefinite and completed bliss.  The sixteenth century attacked the ancient, the nineteenth attacks the eternal.  The sixteenth destroyed, but reconstructed; the nineteenth also destroys, but would substitute nothing instead.  The sixteenth reminds us of audacious youth, still clinging to parental authority; the nineteenth reminds us of cynical and irreverent old age, believing in nothing but the triumphs of science and art, and shaking off the doctrines of the ages as exploded superstitions.

The sixteenth century was marked not only by intensely earnest religious inquiries, but by great civil and social disorders,—­showing a transition period of society from the slaveries and discomforts of the feudal ages to the liberty and comforts of highly civilized life.  In the midst of religious enthusiasm we see tumults, insurrections, terrible animosities, and cruel intolerance.  War was associated with inhuman atrocities, and the acceptance of the reformed faith was followed by bitter and heartless persecution.  The feudal system had received a shock from standing armies and the invention of gunpowder and the central authority of kings, but it was not demolished.  The nobles still continued to enjoy their social and political distinctions, the peasantry were ground down by unequal laws, and the nobles were as arrogant and quarrelsome as the people were oppressed