2 John Huss.

John Huss.

Let us now transfer ourselves — in imagination — far away from the land of Wicliffe, to a little village in Bohemia, called Hussinetz. Here was born one whose name, even to this day, is spoken of with deepest love and reverence; for his voice was the first which dared to denounce the tyranny of the Papacy, and from his eloquent lips first came the message of redemption in Christ, through His blood, even the forgiveness of sins.

John Huss was born in the year 1373, in a little cottage, just at the edge of the vast Bohemian forest. Its great pines rocked and swayed over his humble dwelling, and doubtless, their sad, wild music often mingled with his cradle songs. Close by, rolled the bright waters of the Molden river, and with nature in all her loveliness around him, he spent his happy, dreamy childhood. His father died when he was quite young, so he lived alone with his mother. Though she was poor, she did all in her power to teach her only child, for we find that as soon as he had finished his education at the village school, she took him to Prague, to enter him at the University of that city. Hoping to find favour for her boy with the rector, she carried a present for him, which, unfortunately, she lost on the way. In great distress she knelt down on the road with her boy beside her, and implored God’s blessing upon him. Her prayers were answered; but, ah! if at that moment the curtain of the future could have been lifted, how her mother’s heart would have been pierced to have seen the way. His University career was one of great brilliancy. He was made Bachelor and Master of Arts, and Bachelor of Theology. After finishing his University course, he entered the Church, where he soon rose to great eminence. His fame even reached the Court of Winceslaus, and his Queen, Sophia, choose him for her confessor.

Huss was at this time a firm believer in the Papacy, but through God’s great mercy ere long his eyes were opened, and he became one of its most zealous opponents.

We have seen how in England God had sent forth a skillful and laborious servant to till the ground, and, as it were, cast in the divine seed; but not in our country only was the great Husbandman preparing the soil; for lo! afar off in Bohemia the winter is past, and the great spring-time is come, and soon will He send forth His sowers to scatter the precious seed! A blessed link binds England and Bohemia together, for we read in the book of the persecutions of the Bohemian church, "In the year A.D. 1400 Jerome, of Prague, returned from England, bringing with him the writings of Wicliffe;" and again, a writer of the 15th century says "that the books of Master John Wicliffe opened the eyes of the blessed master John Huss, as several reliable men know from his own lips, whilst he read and re-read them with his disciples."

It is from this time that the true career of Huss must date. He was appointed preacher to the Chapel of Bethlehem, and his sermons there formed an epoch in the history of Prague. Far removed from anything they had ever heard before, his words fell upon their wondering ears with a sound strange, yet sweet, and well might they say, "Never heard we such things before." Ah! he drew his sermons direct from the pure wells of Scripture. He gave them the words of the Lord in all the loving tenderness with which they fell from His divine lips. The tale which we call "the old, old story," in all its divine simplicity, was new to them. They had been fed by the priests on legends of the saints, stories of the fathers, tales of wondrous miracles and weeping virgins, any thing or everything, rather than the truth of God.

Like soft rain on arid ground fell the words of Huss on the hearts of many who were thirsting for something — they knew not what — to bring them peace. And no wonder that there was a great awakening, and that many believed, and were saved. The moral condition of the people at this time was most deplorable. We read that "the king, the nobles, the prelates, the clergy, and citizens indulged without restraint in avarice, pride, drunkenness, and every profligacy."

Against this fearful state of wickedness Huss thundered his powerful sermons, not sparing any; against prelates, nobles, and clergy, he alike launched his bolts. A great clamour was raised against him, but the Queen, whose confessor he was, and who held him in great esteem for his holy, blameless life, protected him.

It was impossible for Huss, studying and constantly preaching the word, as he was, not to grow rapidly in the knowledge of the Scriptures, and ere long he found that the Bible must be placed before the authority of the Pope or of councils, and so almost unwittingly Huss had entered the road of Protestantism.

It was not long before Rome heard of what was going on at Prague, and Pope Alexander V. at once issued a bull commanding the Archbishop of Prague, to proceed against all who preached in private chapels, and who read the writings or taught the opinions of Wickliffe. Then a great collection of all Wickliffe’s books was made, and upwards of 200 volumes beautifully written, and elegantly bound — some even ornamented with jewels and precious stones, showing how much they were prized by their owners — were piled up in the street, and were publicly burned, while the bells tolled dismally. But they could not so stamp out the divine work. After this wicked act we find Huss preaching with still greater zeal and earnestness. He now attacked the sale of indulgences, and other unscriptural proceedings of the Papacy.

Another mandate arrived from Rome. The Pope summoned Huss to appear in person to answer for his doctrines. All knew that to obey this command would be but to walk to his grave. The King, the Queen, and many of the great ones of Bohemia sent an embassy to the Pope, begging that Huss might not appear in person, and that his defence might be heard through another. In vain they pleaded; the Pope condemned Huss in his absence, and laid the city of Prague under interdict.

Again was enacted the same scene which took place in our own country, in the reign of King John. Prague was like a city stricken with a sudden and terrible calamity. Outside the closed church doors lay the corpses awaiting burial by the wayside, for the churchyards might not receive them. The images, which were supposed to guard and sanctify the streets, were laid prostrate on the ground, as though interceding for the wicked city, and sackcloth was thrown over them. The altar lights were extinguished, and everywhere were tokens of the terrible curse that was laid on the city that harboured within its walls the man who had dared to disobey the Pope’s summons. The poor superstitious people could not brave this state of things long; tumults soon began to disturb the peace. "Let us cast out the rebel," was the cry, "lest we perish."

There was nothing for Huss but to depart. He must leave the city where he had many friends, and not a few loving disciples, for he knew that his presence could but entail sorrow and calamity on them. So he went away, and found a place of refuge in his home beneath the sighing pines of Hussinezt. But think not that he was idle; he preached and taught in all the towns and villages round about that region. Great crowds followed him, hanging on his words; they could not but admire him, no less for his modesty than for his rare eloquence and boldness. "The church," said his hearers, "has pronounced this man a heretic and a demon, yet his life is holy, and his doctrine is pure and elevating." In time things quieted in Prague, although doubtless, the calm was only at the surface. With an intense yearning Huss longed to return again to his Chapel of Bethlehem, the scene of so much divine blessing. The wish was granted him, and once more he stands with his beloved flock around him, who listen with hushed breath to the burning words that proceed from him. His banishment has but quickened his zeal, and more courageously than ever he denounces the tyranny that would suppress the free preaching of the Gospel. Up to this time Huss had no yoke-fellow in his work; he was quite alone; and often in sadness and melancholy, he yearned for the sweet solace of a companion of like spirit with himself. It pleased God to give him such an one, a friend, who became to him as Jonathan to David. Jerome, of Faulfisk, was a Bohemian knight. He had been at Oxford, in England, and there had received much truth from Wickliffe’s writings. He was noted for his subtle intellect and fervent eloquence. He had, too, a fearless courage, and a lofty devotion. From this time the names of Huss and Jerome were ever united, Although alike in their great qualities and aims, there were many minor points of difference between them that made them necessary to one another. Their love ripened, day by day, until it became "passing the love of woman," and so it remained, in sweet unbrokenness while life lasted. Even death did not keep them long apart, for "they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided."

If we cast our eyes round, and survey the state of Europe at this time, the picture is truly deplorable. Three popes were now reigning in Christendom, each claiming to be the rightful successor of Peter. Not only with maledictions and curses did the rival popes shine now to crush one another; they hired soldiers and swords, and by war and rapine each strove to become the greatest. As this could not be done without money, pardons and places in Paradise were put up for sale that they might obtain the needed gold. Europe was plunged into anarchy and confusion; piety consisted of nothing but a few superstitious rites. Everywhere was heard the clash of arms and the sighing of nations. This melancholy spectacle had a very powerful effect on John Huss, and drove him to a still closer study of the Bible. Every day he saw more clearly how "the Church" had departed from her early model, not in practice only, but in doctrine. And now we find him not only striking at the abuses of the Papacy, but levelling his blows at its root and endeavouring with all his might to extirpate it, both root and branch together. He now wrote his wonderful treatise "On the Church," in which he brought out clearly that Christ alone was the invisible Head of the Church. This tract was followed by another, called, "The Six Errors," which was circulated far and near, and produced a profound impression throughout Bohemia.

Something else happening at this time helped to deepen the impression made by this tract. Ladislaus, King of Hungary, had brought down the wrath of John XXIII. upon himself, by giving support to Gregory XII. one of the rival popes. In great anger he (John) issued a bull, excommunicating (which means shutting out from heaven) King Ladislaus, and all his children to the third generation. We, read too, that the Pope also "commanded all emperors, kings, princes, cardinals, and men of whatever degree, by the sprinkling of the blood of Christ, to take up arms against Ladislaus, and to utterly exterminate him and his supporters; and he promised to all who should join the crusade, or who should support it, the pardon of all their sins, and immediate admission into Paradise, should they die in the war." This edict plunged Hungary into conflict, and Huss seized the opportunity of directing the eyes of his countrymen to the contrast between the vicar of Christ, and Christ Himself: the one who proclaimed war and bloodshed, and the gentle Saviour who taught a gospel of peace. The scandals around him raised his indignation and horror. It was hard to remain calm while he saw John XXIII., one of the most wicked men that ever wore the tiara, professing to open and shut the gates of Paradise, and scattering his pardons over Europe, only that he might kindle the flames of war and shed torrents of christian blood. Plainer and bolder, day by day, grew the speech of Huss, and the people became so incensed against the priests that they trembled for their lives. The Archbishop interfered, and again placed Prague under interdict, so long as John Huss remained in the city. Again the Reformer, fearing for his friends, withdrew to his native village of Hussinetz.

Another scene in the drama of the life of Huss was closed, and he was bidden to rest awhile before the opening of his last and sublimest one. He had left far behind him the strifes and clamours of Prague, and sweet and calm was his rest beneath the waving pines of his birth-place. His letters at this time show a mind full of that calm courage that springs from trust in God. He had no fear, for he was dwelling under the shadow of the Almighty. Here he had time to calm his mind and fortify his son by communion with his God.

He could with joy think that by his instrumentality, his native country, Bohemia, had been rescued from much spiritual darkness and he could trust in God that the light would broaden and brighten.

Never again was his voice to be heard in his favourite chapel of Bethlehem, and never more were his living words to stir the hearts of his countrymen. There remains but one more act for Huss to do — his greatest and most enduring — and now I must hasten on, though shrinkingly, to tell of his noble martyr death. In the year 1413 Sigismund had ascended the throne of the Empire. I must tell you somewhat about him, for his name was destined to be handed down to posterity, along with that of Huss, but not with like fame. He was a sincere devotee, and the sight of Christendom, disgraced and torn asunder by its popes, moved him even to tears. The emperor studied long as to how these evils were to be met, and at last he hit upon a plan, and he resolved to make trial of it: it was a general Council. He resolved to call together the whole Church; all its patriarchs, cardinals, bishops and princes, and to summon before this august body the three rival popes, and then, by the authority of the Council, compel them to adjust their claims.

I cannot stay to give an account of this wonderful assembly that met on Nov. 1, 1414. From every kingdom and state, and from almost every city in Europe, came delegates to swell the great gathering. Men of princely rank and high dignity were there, and men of fame in learning; but of all that brilliant assembly there was none in whom we take such a deep interest as in John Huss, for he, too, had been commanded to appear before the Council. He had been summoned by the emperor, who had also pledged his kingly word that he should go and return in perfect safety. We shall see how he redeemed his pledge.

Some of Huss’s most powerful enemies had preceded him to Constance, and now day and night were they working to compass his destruction. Twenty-six days after his arrival, in spite of the solemn written promise of the emperor that he should remain unmolested, he was seized and thrown into the prison of a monastery on the banks of the Rhine. Here the damp and pestilential air of his prison brought on a raging fever, which nearly brought his life to an end.

Deep was the indignation when the news of Huss’s imprisonment reached Bohemia. In burning words did the barons indite a remonstrance to the emperor, reminding him of his promise, and demanding that he should vindicate his own honour and release their great countryman.

Sigismund, upon receiving this remonstrance, would have at once ordered his release, but the subtle men around him soon found means to make him alter his decision. They told him that the good of the Church demanded that he should keep this heretic a prisoner. They told him that the Council, by its supreme authority, could release him from his promise, and afterwards they made a decree "that no faith is to be kept with heretics to the prejudice of the Church."

Huss was now completely in the power of his cruel enemies. They examined his writings, and soon found plenty in them whereby to condemn him; and writing down what they had against him, they proceeded to the prison where he was lying, weak and feeble with the fever. He begged that he might have an advocate to defend himself, but this was denied him. After this Huss was removed to the castle of Gotelhen, on the other side of the Rhine, where he was heavily loaded with chains. At last, on the 5th of June, 1415, he was brought to trial. His books were produced, and he was asked if he were the writer of them. This he readily admitted. Then they found by his writings that he had transferred his allegiance from the so-called "Church" to God, speaking through His Word. This was his great crime. In the judgment of the Council he was in rebellion, for he had broken the bond of submission. It would take too long to tell you how he was dragged backwards and forwards, from prison to the Council, before he was condemned, unheard, to the doom of a heretic. He went through unheard-of sufferings, for after long sittings, listening to the attacks and reasonings of his accusers, he would be shut up in a tower, with fetters on his legs, and at night he was fastened up to a rack against the wall, hard by his bed.

Sigismund, who doubtless had at this time an earnest desire to save his life, caused the Council to draw up a paper, in which it was put to him that if he would withdraw his heresies his life would be saved. But it was in vain that they tempted the great Reformer. "He would rather," he said, "be cast into the sea with a millstone round his neck, than offend those little ones to whom he had preached the Gospel." At last the day arrived when all the sorrows of Huss were to be terminated. The execution took place in a meadow, between the gardens of the city and the gates of Gotelhen. When he reached the place where he was to be burnt, the martyr knelt down and said, "Lord Jesus into Thy hands I commend my spirit." A mighty crowd surrounded him, and those near by said, as they listened to his prayers, "We know not what his life has been, but verily he prays after a devout and godly fashion." And now he stands with his feet on the faggots, and wood piled all around him up to the chin. Again, at the last moment, the Marshal of the Empire approached, and for the last time implored him to save his life and recant. "What errors," asked Huss, "shall I renounce? I know myself guilty of none. I call God to witness that all I have written and preached has been with the view of rescuing souls from sin and perdition, and therefore most joyfully will I confirm with my blood that truth which I have written and preached." And so they left him to his fate. The fire was applied, and the flames blazed upward, and Huss began to sing with a loud voice, and while he was singing, the flame choked him, and so he died. Carefully were his ashes collected and thrown into the Rhine. And so they thought that he was vanquished. Never had the Council made a greater mistake. From the stake of Huss what blessings have flowed, and are still flowing, to the world. Being dead he yet speaketh; for, from the moment he expired at the stake, his name became a power which is speeding on the cause of truth, even to this day.