y the year
when he left the monastery was 1493--now set foot on the path of a
career that was very common and much coveted at that time: that of an
intellectual in the shadow of the great. His patron belonged to one of
the numerous Belgian noble families, which had risen in the service of
the Burgundians and were interestedly devoted to the prosperity of that
house. The Glimes were lords of the important town of Bergen-op-Zoom,
which, situated between the River Scheldt and the Meuse delta, was one
of the links between the northern and the southern Netherlands. Henry,
the Bishop of Cambray, had just been appointed chancellor of the Order
of the Golden Fleece, the most distinguished spiritual dignity at court,
which although now Habsburg in fact, was still named after Burgundy. The
service of such an important personage promised almost unbounded honour
and profit. Many a man would under the circumstances, at the cost of
some patience, some humiliation, and a certain laxity of principle, have
risen even to be a bishop. But Erasmus was never a man to make the most
of his situation.

Serving the bishop proved to be rather a disappointment. Erasmus had to
accompany him on his frequent migrations from one residence to another
in Bergen, Brussels, or Mechlin. He was very busy, but the exact nature
of his duties is unknown. The journey to Rome, the acme of things
desirable to every divine or student, did not come off. The bishop,
although taking a cordial interest in him for some months, was less
accommodating than he had expected. And so we shortly find Erasmus once
more in anything but a cheerful frame of mind. 'The hardest fate,' he
calls his own, which robs him of all his old sprightliness.
Opportunities to study he has none. He now envies his friend William,
who at Steyn in the little cell can write beautiful poetry, favoured by
his 'lucky stars'. It befits him, Erasmus, only to weep and sigh; it has
already so dulled his mind and withered his heart that his former
studies no longer appeal to him. There is rhetorical exaggeration in
this and we shall not take his pining for the monastery too seriously,
but still it is clear that deep dejection had mastered him. Contact with
the world of politics and ambition had probably unsettled Erasmus. He
never had any aptitude for it. The hard realities of life frightened and
distressed him. When forced to occupy himself with them he saw nothing
but bitterness and confusion about him.