the French king appeared the less dangerous, and the result was
the Leo championed his cause with all his energies. Not till
the eleventh hour, when the election of the Habsburg, to whom
he was entirely opposed, was seen to be certain did he give
way. He thus at least avoided an open rupture with the new
emperor—a rupture which would have been all the more
perilous on account of the religious revolution now imminent in
Germany. There the great secession from Rome was brought
about by Martin Luther; but, in spite of his striking personality,
the upheaval which was destined to shatter the unity of the
Western Church was not his undivided work. True, he was
the most powerful agent in the destruction of the existing
order; but, in reality, he merely put the match to a pile of
inflammable materials which had been collecting for centuries
(see Reformation). A main cause of the cleavage in Germany
was the position of ecclesiastical affairs, which—though by no
means hopeless—yet stood in urgent need of emendation, and,
combined with this, the deeply resented financial system of the
Curia. Thus Luther assumed the leadership of a national
opposition, and appeared as the champion who was to undertake
the much-needed reform of abuses which clamoured for
redress. The occasion for the schism was given by the conflict
with regard to indulgences, in the course of which Luther
was not content to attack actual grievances, but assailed the
Catholic doctrine itself. In June 1518 the canonical proceedings
against Luther were begun in Rome; but, owing to
political influences, only slow progress was made. It was not
till the 15th of June 1520 that his new theology was condemned
by the bull Exsurge, and Luther himself threatened
with excommunication—a penalty which was only enforced
owing to his refusal to submit, on the 3rd of January 1521.
The state of Germany, together with the unwise behaviour of Francis I., compelled Leo X. to side with Charles V. against the French king; and the united forces of the empire and papacy had achieved the most brilliant success in upper Italy, when Leo died unexpectedly, on the 1st of December 1521. The character of the first Medician pope shows a peculiar mixture of noble and ignoble qualities. With an insatiable love of pleasure he combined a certain external piety and a magnificent generosity in his charities. His financial administration was disastrous, and led simply to bankruptcy. On music, hunting, expensive feasts and theatrical performances money was squandered, while, with unexampled optimism the pope was blind to the deadly earnestness of the times.
Leo's name is generally associated with the idea of the Medicean era as a golden age of science and art. This conception is only partially justified. The reputation of a greater Maecenas—ascribed to him by his eulogists—dwindles before a sober, critical contemplation, and his undeniable merits are by no means equal to those which fame has assigned to him. The love of science and literature, which animated the son of Lorenzo the Magnificent, frequently took the shape of literary dilettantism. In many respects the brilliance of this long and often vaunted Maecenate of Leo X. is more apparent than real. There are times when it irresistibly conveys the impression of dazzling fireworks of which nothing remains but the memory. The genuine significance of Leo lies rather in the stimulus which he gave. From this point of view his deserts are undoubtedly great; and for that reason he possesses an indefeasible right to a certain share in the renown of the papacy as a civilizing agent of the highest rank.
As a patron of art Leo occupies a more exalted plane. In this domain the first place must be assigned to the splendid achievements of Raphael, whom the pope entrusted with new and comprehensive commissions—the Stanza dell’ incendio, the Logge, and the tapestry-cartoons, the originals of the last named being now in London. But, though illuminated by the rays of art, and loaded with the exuberant panegyrics of humanists and poets, the reign of the first Medicean pontiff, by its unbounded devotion to purely secular tendencies and its comparative neglect of the Church herself proved disastrous for the See of St Peter.
By a wonderful dispensation the successor to this scion of the Medici was Adrian VI.—a man who saw his noblest task, not in an artistic Maecenate, nor in the prosecution of political designs, but in the reform of the Church in all its members. Careless of the glories of Renaissance art, a stranger to all worldly instincts, the earnest Adrian VII., 1522–1523. Netherlander inscribed on his banner the healing of the moral ulcers, the restoration of unity to the Church—especially in Germany—and the preservation of the West from the Turkish danger. How clearly he read the causes of religious decadence, how deeply he himself was convinced of the need of trenchant reform, is best shown by his instructions to Chieregati, his nuncio to Germany, in which he laid the axe to the root of the tree with unheard-of freedom. Unfortunately, it was all in vain. Luther and his adherents overwhelmed the noble pope with unmeasured abuse. The two great rivals, Francis I. and Charles V., were deaf to his admonitions to make common cause against the Turks. The intrigues of Cardinal Soderini led to a breach with France and drove Adrian into the arms of the Imperial league. Soon afterwards, on the 14th of September 1523, he died. Long misunderstood and slandered, Adrian VI., the last German pope, is now by all parties ranked among the most revered and most worthy of the popes. No one now denies that he was one of those exceptional men, who without self-seeking spend their lives in the service of a cause and fight bravely against the stream of corruption. Even though, in his all too brief pontificate, he failed to attain any definite results, he at least fulfilled the first condition of any cure by laying bare the seat of disease, gave an important impetus to the cause of the reform of the Church, and laid down the principles on which this was afterwards carried through. His activity, in fact, will always remain one of the brightest chapters in the history of the papacy.
Under Leo X. Cardinal Giulio de’ Medeci, the cousin of that pope, had already exercised a decisive influence upon Catholic policy; and the tiara now fell to his lot. Clement VII.—so the new pontiff styled himself—was soon discover the weight of the crown which he had gained. The international situation was the most difficult imaginable, Clement VII., 1523–1534. and altogether beyond the powers of the timorous, vacillating and irresolute Medician pope. His determination to stand aloof from the great duel between Francis I. and Charles V. failed him at the first trial. He had not enough courage and perspicacity to await in patience the result of the race between France and Germany for the duchy of Milan—a contest which was decided at Pavia (Feb. 24, 1525). The haughty victors found Clement on the side of their opponent, and he was forced into an alliance with the emperor (April 1, 1525). The overweening arrogance of the Spaniards soon drove the pope back into the ranks of their enemies. On the 22nd of May 1526 Clement acceded to the League of Cognac, and joined the Italians in their struggle against the Spanish supremacy. This step he was destined bitterly to repent. The tempest descended on the pope and on Rome with a violence which cannot be paralleled, even in the days of Alaric and Genseric, or of the Norman Robert Guiscard. On the 6th of May 1527 the Eternal City was stormed by the Imperial troops and subjected to appalling devastation in the famous sack. Clement was detained for seven months a prisoner in the castle of St Angelo. He then went into exile at Orvieto and Viterbo, and only on the 6th of October 1528 returned to his desolate residence. After the fall of the French dominion in Italy he made his peace with the emperor at Barcelona (June 29, 1529); in return for which he received the assistance of Charles in re-establishing the rule of the Medici in Florence. During the Italian turmoil the schism in Germany had made such alarming progress that it now proved impossible to bridge the chasm. With regard to the question of a council the pope was so obsessed by doubts and fears that he was unable to advance a single step; nor. till the day of his death could he break off his pitiful vacillation between Charles V. and Francis I. While large portions of Germany were lost to the Church the revolt from Rome proceeded apace in Switzerland
