Birth and Name
The greatest humanist of this age was born in 1466 or 1469, at or near Rotterdam. He was the second son of a priest named Gerard, and his mother, the widowed daughter of a physician, was named Margaret. Soon after his birth his father was ordained a priest. We do not know how the affectionate name Desiderius Erasmus ("beloved, desired") came to be given him. His first teachers taught him to read and write Dutch, but when he went to school with the Brethren of the Common Life at Deventer he was fined for speaking his native tongue, for the main subject there was Latin and piety and virtue, like discipline and obedience, were strictly enforced. Still, the Brethren encouraged the reading of some Greek and Roman literary and philosophical texts, and it was at Deventer that Erasmus first acquired his astonishing mastery of Latin language and literature.
The Monastery at Steyn
In 1484 both his parents died. His father left little property to his sons, but their guardians used up most of it and drove the young men toward monastic life, which needed no money. The brothers protested, for they wanted to go to a university to continue their studies; but in the end they were persuaded, and Erasmus was lured with the promise of access to many books. The elder brother resigned himself to his fate and (as Erasmus reports) "became a drinker whose revelry was at least as great as his drinking." Desiderius took monastic vows as an Augustinian monk in the priory of Emmaus at Steyn. He tried hard to find a liking for the monastic life, and even wrote a treatise, On Contempt of the World, to convince himself that the cloister was the most suitable place for a young man with a restless spirit and a sickly stomach. But his stomach complained of fasting and was upset by the smell of fish. Keeping his vows of obedience was more tedious than piety and chastity, and perhaps the monastery's library held few classics.
The kind prior took pity on him and sent him as clerk and secretary to Henry of Bergen, bishop of Cambrai. Erasmus was ordained priest in 1492.
Paris and the Books
But wherever Erasmus was, he had a foot elsewhere. He envied the young men who had left their local schools for the universities. Paris gave off so fine a fragrance of the thirst for learning and of pleasure that it intoxicated quick, sensitive minds from afar. After some years of diligent service the bishop, his patron, sent Desiderius to the University of Paris with a little money to keep him alive. There he listened impatiently to the lectures of his teachers but devoured the libraries. He took part in games and parties and sometimes slaked the thirst of his soul at the fountain of feminine charm. In one of his dialogues he remarks that the pleasantest way to learn French is to learn it from women of easy virtue (the book's remark, passed over here without detail). Yet his true love and passion was for literature; the magic music of words opened a door to him that led to an imaginary and joyful world. He taught himself Greek; at times Athens in the age of Plato, Euripides, Zeno and Epicurus became as familiar to his mind as Rome in the age of Cicero, Horace and Seneca, and both cities seemed as real as the Left Bank of the Seine. Seneca seemed to him, like the apostle Paul, a thorough Christian, with the added merit of writing more correctly and elegantly (a point on which Erasmus's taste may have been mistaken).
On his own, he explored the heart of the centuries and discovered Lorenzo Valla, the Voltaire of Naples. He greatly enjoyed Valla's refined style and bold, noble expression, by which Valla had criticized the forged "Donation of Constantine," exposed the great errors of Jerome in the Vulgate, and argued that the philosophy and school of Epicurus was not the wisest view of the world. Erasmus himself later, to the astonishment of theologians and the consolation of cardinals, set out to reconcile Epicurus and Christ. The teaching of Duns Scotus and William of Ockham still echoed in Paris; nominalism was advancing and endangering some religious doctrines, like transubstantiation and the Trinity. These forays and departures from the foundations of religion destroyed the young priest's devout faith and left him a man who, apart from a deep admiration of the morals and conduct of Christ, looked to no one.
Poverty and Patrons
His addiction to books cost him dearly, almost as if it were a great vice. To add to his income he gave private lessons to students and lived with one of them. Even so, he did not have enough to live easily. He wrote the bishop of Cambrai a pleading letter saying that his skin and his purse were both empty, one of flesh and the other of money, and begging him not to withhold his favor as before; and the bishop, with his usual moderation, answered. One of his pupils, Lord of Veere, invited him to his castle at Tornhem in Flanders, and Erasmus was glad to find the lady of Veere a brilliant and discerning patron; she learned of his circumstances and helped him with a gift, but the cash soon ran out. Another rich pupil, Mountjoy, took him to England (1499).
Discovering England
There, in the great aristocratic houses in the country, the weary scholar found a world so pleasant and polite that his wasted years in the monastery became a hateful memory. He reported his progress in one of his countless inimitable letters, now the most lively monument of his life, to a friend in Paris: that they pass the time pleasantly; that if his friend were wise he too would spread his wings and fly to this land; that he wished him to know what comfort there was here. Of all of it he would tell him only one thing: that England had beautiful women with divine faces, so good and kind that words fail; and besides there was a custom that cannot be described exactly: wherever you go you are welcomed with a kiss, and as you leave you are sped with a kiss; if you return, your greeting is answered with a kiss; wherever a company meets, embracing does the work of greeting and farewell. Oh, Faustus, if you tasted just once the sweetness of those lips, you would wish to be a traveler not, like Solon, for ten years only, but all your life and in England. (The letter is quoted in the book in garbled and abbreviated form.)
More, Colet and the English Humanists
At Mountjoy's house in Greenwich Erasmus met Thomas More. More was then twenty-two but already famous enough to introduce our scholar to the future Henry VIII. At Oxford the close friendship between students and colleges captivated him as much as the kisses and embraces of the country-house beauties. There he grew fond of John Colet, who, though "a champion of the old theology," had astonished his contemporaries by putting Christ's teachings into practice. Erasmus was struck by the progress of humanism in England. When he listened to Colet's discourses, he said, it was as if he heard Plato himself. Who would not be amazed at such a world of learning as Grocyn's? What is deeper, keener and more charming than the judgment of Linacre? And what has nature created that is nobler, sweeter and happier than the temper of Thomas More?
These great men left deep marks on Erasmus and tempered the steel of his nature. The proud, fickle young man, drunk on the classics and the sweet scent of women, became a serious and hard-working scholar who sought not only money and fame but a lasting and great success. When he left England (January 1500) he had resolved to study and print the Greek text of the New Testament, for he held it to be the basis of true Christianity, which, according to the verdict of religious reformers and humanists, had vanished beneath a coating of other religious beliefs and opinions piled up over the centuries.
A Bad Farewell
The last hours of his stay in England darkened his pleasant memories of the visit. At Dover the customs officers confiscated the money given him by his English friends, amounting to £20 (2,000 dollars, the book's figure), because English law forbade the export of gold and silver. More, who at that time was not yet a great lawyer, had wrongly advised him to convert his pounds into French money. Neither his broken English nor his fluent, proud Latin could turn the law from its course; and Erasmus, penniless, boarded a ship bound for France. In his own words, "I did not go to sea, yet I suffered the losses of the shipwrecked."