The Thirty Years War | Page 3

Second threatened Elizabeth, were mainly intended in revenge for her
having taken his Protestant subjects under her protection, and placing
herself at the head of a religious party which it was his aim and
endeavour to extirpate. In Germany, the schisms in the church
produced also a lasting political schism, which made that country for
more than a century the theatre of confusion, but at the same time threw
up a firm barrier against political oppression. It was, too, the
Reformation principally that first drew the northern powers, Denmark
and Sweden, into the political system of Europe; and while on the one
hand the Protestant League was strengthened by their adhesion, it on
the other was indispensable to their interests. States which hitherto
scarcely concerned themselves with one another's existence, acquired
through the Reformation an attractive centre of interest, and began to
be united by new political sympathies. And as through its influence

new relations sprang up between citizen and citizen, and between rulers
and subjects, so also entire states were forced by it into new relative
positions. Thus, by a strange course of events, religious disputes were
the means of cementing a closer union among the nations of Europe.
Fearful indeed, and destructive, was the first movement in which this
general political sympathy announced itself; a desolating war of thirty
years, which, from the interior of Bohemia to the mouth of the Scheldt,
and from the banks of the Po to the coasts of the Baltic, devastated
whole countries, destroyed harvests, and reduced towns and villages to
ashes; which opened a grave for many thousand combatants, and for
half a century smothered the glimmering sparks of civilization in
Germany, and threw back the improving manners of the country into
their pristine barbarity and wildness. Yet out of this fearful war Europe
came forth free and independent. In it she first learned to recognize
herself as a community of nations; and this intercommunion of states,
which originated in the thirty years' war, may alone be sufficient to
reconcile the philosopher to its horrors. The hand of industry has
slowly but gradually effaced the traces of its ravages, while its
beneficent influence still survives; and this general sympathy among
the states of Europe, which grew out of the troubles in Bohemia, is our
guarantee for the continuance of that peace which was the result of the
war. As the sparks of destruction found their way from the interior of
Bohemia, Moravia, and Austria, to kindle Germany, France, and the
half of Europe, so also will the torch of civilization make a path for
itself from the latter to enlighten the former countries.
All this was effected by religion. Religion alone could have rendered
possible all that was accomplished, but it was far from being the SOLE
motive of the war. Had not private advantages and state interests been
closely connected with it, vain and powerless would have been the
arguments of theologians; and the cry of the people would never have
met with princes so willing to espouse their cause, nor the new
doctrines have found such numerous, brave, and persevering
champions. The Reformation is undoubtedly owing in a great measure
to the invincible power of truth, or of opinions which were held as such.
The abuses in the old church, the absurdity of many of its dogmas, the

extravagance of its requisitions, necessarily revolted the tempers of
men, already half-won with the promise of a better light, and
favourably disposed them towards the new doctrines. The charm of
independence, the rich plunder of monastic institutions, made the
Reformation attractive in the eyes of princes, and tended not a little to
strengthen their inward convictions. Nothing, however, but political
considerations could have driven them to espouse it. Had not Charles
the Fifth, in the intoxication of success, made an attempt on the
independence of the German States, a Protestant league would scarcely
have rushed to arms in defence of freedom of belief; but for the
ambition of the Guises, the Calvinists in France would never have
beheld a Conde or a Coligny at their head. Without the exaction of the
tenth and the twentieth penny, the See of Rome had never lost the
United Netherlands. Princes fought in self-defence or for
aggrandizement, while religious enthusiasm recruited their armies, and
opened to them the treasures of their subjects. Of the multitude who
flocked to their standards, such as were not lured by the hope of
plunder imagined they were fighting for the truth, while in fact they
were shedding their blood for the personal objects of their princes.
And well was it for the people that, on this occasion, their interests
coincided with those of their princes. To this coincidence alone were
they indebted for their deliverance from popery. Well was it also for