The Story of Liberty. Charles Carleton Coffin
for performing a deed so glorious and so pleasing to God."
The bishop comes down from the pulpit, and orator Henricus takes his place.
"You are to weigh this matter well," he says to the council " You are not to rest till you have burned such a sturdy heretic — one so stiff-necked in his damnable error."
Then a bishop reads the charge against Huss.
"You have disobeyed the Archbishop of Prague. You teach that there is a holy catholic church other than that of which the Pope is the head — a community of all the faithful ordained of God to eternal life — which is heretical."
"I do not doubt," Huss replies, "that there is a holy Christian church which is a community of the elect, both in this and in the other world."
"Hold your tongue! After we get through, you may answer," says Cardinal Von Cammerach.
"I shall not be able to remember all the charges."
"Silence!" The Archbishop of Florence shouts it.
John Huss drops upon his knees, and lifts his hands toward Heaven. If they will not hear him, there is One above who will.
"O God, I commend my cause to thee."
The reading goes on.
"He has taught that after the words of consecration have been pronounced over the bread it is still natural bread, which is heretical."
"I have not so preached."
"Silence, heretic!"
"He has taught that a priest polluted with deadly sins cannot administer the sacrament of the altar, which is heretical."
"I still say that every act of a priest laden with deadly sins is an abomination in the sight of God."
Ah! that is a home-thrust. Bishops, archbishops, cardinals, and priests, who are living with women to whom they have not been married, never will forgive the heretic for saying that.
The last charge is read.
"He has contemned the Pope's excommunication."
"I have not. I appealed to him — sent messengers to plead my cause before him, who were thrown into prison. I came to this council of my own free-will, with a safe-conduct from the emperor."
John Huss turns toward Sigismund, and gazes calmly and steadily upon him.
"I came in the full confidence that no violence should be done me, and that I might prove my innocence."
The emperor grows red in the face, for he knows that John Huss came of his free-will. He knows that the safe-conduct which he gave has been taken away from him. He knows that ten thousand swords would leap from their scabbards, and a thousand spears would gleam in the sunlight, in Bohemia, to protect the man who is gazing so calmly in his face. With shame and confusion he sits there with downcast eyes. Everybody can see the reddening of his cheeks. Huss has had no trial; but an old bishop stands up and reads his sentence. He is to be burned to death. Once more the prisoner kneels and prays:
"Lord God, pardon my enemies. Thou knowest that I have been falsely accused, and unfairly sentenced. I pray thee, in thine unspeakable mercy, not to lay it to their charge."
The bishops smile scornfully. The heretic is praying God to forgive them 1 As if they had done, or could do, anything wrong! As if his prayers were of any account! They degrade him from the priesthood. A bishop's robe is thrown over his shoulders. This in derision.
"Confess your errors, and retract them, before it is too late," says one of the archbishops.
He makes no reply to them, but turns to the people:"
The bishops want me to retract; but if I were to do so, I should be I liar before God."
"Silence, you stiff-necked and wicked heretic!"
They place a chalice in his hands, and then take it away.
"O thou cursed Judas I we take from thee this chalice, in which the blood of Christ is offered for the remission of sins," they say.
There is no blanching of his cheeks.
"Confiding in my God and Saviour, I indulge the hope that he will not take from me the cup of salvation, and I trust that I shall drink of it this day in his kingdom," Huss replies.
Greater than emperor, pope, or archbishop is John Huss, standing there beneath the vaulted roof of the old hall. None so calm, so quiet, so peaceful of heart, as he — soon to be one of Liberty's great sons. None so shamefaced, so insignificant, as Sigismund, Emperor of Germany. One word from his lips would set the prisoner free; but his craven heart has yielded to the demand of those who are thirsting for the blood of Huss. They have made him believe that he is not obliged to keep faith with a heretic; yet he knows that he is committing an act which, ever as he recalls it, will redden his cheeks with shame.
"Let him be accursed of God and man eternally."
In all the assembly of prelates there is not a kindly face, no look of pity.
"I am willing thus to suffer for the truth in the name of Christ."
They place a paper cap upon his head — a mock crown — with figures of devils upon it, and this inscription :
"Give him over to the beadle." The emperor speaks the words, which one day will come back to trouble him. Sooner or later retribution follows crime. It may not be to-day nor to-morrow, but it will come; and this emperor, the greatest potentate in Europe, will see his empire drenched in blood, towns and cities in flames, and the land a desolation, for uttering those words.
Out from the hall moves the procession once more. Out through the door stream the people. A fire is burning in the street, and the priests are heaping upon it the books written by Huss and by Doctor Wicklif.
Huss smiles when he sees the parchment volumes curling in the flames. They can burn the books, but truth and liberty will still live. He walks with firm and steady steps. None of all the thousands around are so happy as he. The bishops are astonished.
"He goes as if on his way to a banquet," says Bishop Silvius.
Through the streets, where the people throng the sidewalks and look down from the windows of the lofty buildings, moves the procession — out to the place where he is to be burned. What is it that Huss is saying?
"I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me." It is the thirtieth Psalm. They can burn his body, but what of that? His body is not him.
"Do not believe" he says to the people, "that I have taught anything but the truth."
No trembling of the lips — no whitening of his cheeks. He is going to testify to the truth. Why should he fear? Truth and liberty are eternal, and will live when emperor and pope have passed away. Truth makes men free, and it will be glorious to die for freedom. The fagots are piled around him — bundles of dry sticks. The executioner stands with his torch.
"Renounce your error," shouts the Duke of Bavaria.
"I have taught no error. The truths I have taught I will seal with my blood."
"Burn him."
The executioner holds his torch to the fagots. What is it that the people hear coming from that sheet of flame?
"Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
It is the song