!
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 ERNEST CARROLL MOORE
 
 EndJ&y Hi Hall.
 
 HISTORY 
 
 THE REFORMATION 
 
 THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 VOLUME FIFTH 
 
 THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 BY J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNE", D. D. 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL OF GENEVA, AND VICK 
 PRESIDENT OF THE SOC1ETE EVANGEHQUE. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY H. WHITE, 
 
 B.A. TRINITY COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE, M. A. AND PH. DR. HEIDELBERS 
 THE TRANSLATION CAREFULLY REVISED BY DR. MERLE D'ACBIGNK. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK.
 
 This volume is an exact reprint of the author's original 
 English edition. In issuing it, the publishers express no 
 sanction of any thing concerning which evangelical Chris- 
 tians differ, as to the polity of the Church of Christ. 
 
 J'appelle accessoire, 1'estat des affaires de ceste vie c&dn^ue et 
 transitoire. J'appelle principal, le gouvernement spiritual auquel reluit 
 souverainement la providence de Dieu. Theodore de Beze. 
 
 By accessory, I mean the state of affairs in this frail and transitory 
 life ; by principal, the spiritual government in which God's provideacc 
 rules supreme. Theodore Beza.
 
 1.5 
 PREFACE TO VOLUME FIFTH. 
 
 IN the four previous volumes the author has described the 
 origin and essential development of the Reformation of the 
 Sixteenth Century on the Continent ; he has now to relate 
 the history of the Reformation in England. 
 
 The notes will direct the reader to the principal sources 
 whence the author has derived his information. Most of 
 them are well known ; some, however, had not been pre- 
 viously explored, among which are the later volumes of the 
 State Papers published by order of Government, by a Com- 
 mission of which the illustrious Sir Robert Peel was the first 
 president. Three successive Home Secretaries, Sir James 
 Graham, Sir George Grey, and the Honourable Mr S. H. 
 Walpole, have presented the author with copies of the several 
 volumes of this great and important collection: in some 
 instances they were communicated to him as soon as printed, 
 which was the case in particular with the seventh volume, 
 of which he has made much use. He takes this opportunity 
 of expressing his sincere gratitude to these noble friends of 
 literature. 
 
 The History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century, 
 was received with cordiality on the Continent, but it has had 
 a far greater number of readers hi the British dominions 
 and in the United States. The author looks upon the rela- 
 
 1689423
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 tions which this work has established between him and many 
 distant Christians, as a precious reward for his labours. Will 
 the present volume be received in those countries as favour- 
 ably as the others? A foreigner relating to the Anglo- 
 Saxon race the history of their Reformation is at a certain 
 disadvantage ; and although the author would rather have 
 referred his readers to works, whether of old or recent date, 
 by native writers, all of them more competent than himself 
 to accomplish this task, he did not think it becoming him 
 to shrink from the undertaking. 
 
 At no period is it possible to omit the history of the Re- 
 formation in England from a general history of the Refor- 
 mation of the Sixteenth Century ; at the present crisis it is 
 less possible than ever. 
 
 In the first place, the English Reformation has been, and 
 still is, calumniated by writers of different parties, who look 
 upon it as nothing more than an external political transfor- 
 mation, and who thus ignore its spiritual nature. History 
 has taught the author that it was essentially a religious 
 transformation, and that we must seek for it in men of 
 faith, and not, as is usually done, solely in the caprices of 
 the prince, the ambition of the nobility, and the servility of 
 the prelates. A faithful recital of this great renovation 
 will perhaps show us 'that beyond and without the measures 
 of Henry VIII. there was something everything, so to speak 
 for therein was the essence of the Reformation, that which 
 makes it a divine and imperishable work. 
 
 A second motive forced the author to acknowledge the 
 necessity of a true History of the English Reformation. An 
 active party in the Episcopalian Church is reviving with 
 zeal, perseverance, and talent, the principles of Roman-ca- 
 tholicism, and striving to impose them on the Reformed 
 Church of England, and incessantly attacking the founda- 
 tions of evangelical Christianity. A number of young men
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 in the universities, seduced by that deceitful mirage which 
 some of their teachers have placed before their eyes, are 
 launching out into clerical and superstitious theories, and 
 running the risk of falling, sooner or later, as so many have 
 done already, into the ever-yawning gulf of Popery. We 
 must therefore call to mind the reforming principles which 
 were proclaimed from the very commencement of this great 
 transformation. 
 
 The new position which the Komish court is taking in 
 England, and its insolent aggressions, are a third consid- 
 eration which seems to demonstrate to us the present im- 
 portance of this history. It is good to call to mind that 
 the primitive Christianity of Great Britain perseveringly 
 repelled the invasion of the popedom, and that after the 
 definitive victory of this foreign power, the noblest voices 
 among kings, lords, priests, and people, boldly protested 
 against it. It is good to show that, while the word of God 
 recovered its inalienable rights in Britain, in the sixteenth 
 century, the popedom, agitated by wholly political interests, 
 broke of itself the chain with which it had so long bound 
 England. We shall see in this volume the English go- 
 vernment fortifying itself, for instance under Edward III., 
 against the invasions of Rome. It has been pretended in 
 our days, and by others besides ultra-montanists, that the 
 papacy is a purely spiritual power, and ought to be opposed 
 by spiritual arms only. If the first part of this argument 
 were true, no one would be readier than ourselves to adopt 
 the conclusion. God forbid that any protestant state should 
 ever refuse the completest liberty to the Roman-catholic 
 doctrines. We certainly wish for reciprocity; we desire 
 that ultra-montanism should no longer throw into prison 
 the humble believers who seek consolation for themselves, 
 and for their friends, in Holy Scripture. But though a 
 deplorable fanaticism should still continue to transplant into
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 the nineteenth century the mournful tragedies of the Middle 
 Ages, we should persist in demanding the fullest liberty, 
 not only of conscience, but of worship, for Roman-catholics 
 in protestant states. We shbuld ask it in the name of 
 justice, whose immutable laws the injustice of our adver- 
 saries can never make us forget ; we should ask it on be- 
 half of the final triumph of truth ; for if our demands proved 
 unavailing, perhaps with God's help it might be otherwise 
 with our example. When two worlds meet face to face, in 
 one of which light abounds, and in the other darkness, it is 
 the darkness that should disappear before the light, and not 
 the light fly from before the darkness. We might go farther 
 than this : far from constraining the English catholics in 
 anything, we would rather desire to help them to be freer than 
 they are, and to aid them in recovering the rights of which 
 the Roman bishop robbed them in times posterior to the 
 establishment of the papacy ; for instance, the election of 
 bishops and pastors, which belongs to the clergy and the 
 people. Indeed, Cyprian, writing to a bishop of Rome (Cor- 
 nelius), demanded three elements to secure the legitimacy of 
 episcopal election : " The call of God, the voice of the peo- 
 ple, and the consent of the co-bishops."* And the coun- 
 cil of Rome, in 1080, said : " Let the clergy and the people, 
 with the consent of the apostolic see or of their metropolitan, 
 elect their bishop." -J- In our days, days distinguished by 
 great liberty, shall the church be less free than it was in 
 the Middle Ages ? 
 
 But if we do not fear to claim for Roman-catholics the 
 rights' of the church of the first ages, and a greater liberty 
 than what they now possess, even in the very seat of the 
 
 * Divinum judicium, populi suffragium, co-episcoporum consensus. 
 Epist. 55. 
 
 f- Clerus et populus, apostolicse sedis, yel metropolitani sui oonsensu, 
 pastorem sibi eligat. Mansi, xx. p. 533.
 
 PREFACE. Vli 
 
 popedom, are we therefore to say that the state, whether 
 under Edward III. or in later times, should oppose no barrier 
 against Romish aggressions? If it is the very life and soul 
 of popery to pass beyond the boundaries of religion^ and enter 
 into the field of policy, why should it be thought strange for 
 the state to defend itself, when attacked upon its own 
 ground ? Can the state have no need of precautions against 
 a power which has pretended to be paramount over Eng- 
 land, which gave its crown to a French monarch, which 
 obtained an oath of vassalage from an English king, and 
 which lays down as its first dogma its infallibility and im- 
 mutability ? 
 
 And it was not only under Edward III. and throughout 
 the Middle Ages that Rome encroached on royalty ; it has 
 happened in modem times also. M. Mignet has recently 
 brought to light some remarkable facts. On the 28th of 
 June 1570, a letter from Saint Pius V. was presented to the 
 catholic king Philip II. by an agent just arrived from Rome. 
 " Our dear son, Robert Ridolfi," says the writer, " will ex- 
 plain (God willing) to your majesty certain matters which 
 
 concern not a little the honour of Almighty God We 
 
 conjure your majesty to take into your serious consideration 
 the matter which he will lay before you, and to furnish him 
 with all the means your majesty may judge most proper 
 for its execution." The pope's "dear son," accordingly, 
 explained to the duke of Feria, who was commissioned by 
 Philip to receive his communication, " that it was proposed 
 to kill queen Elizabeth ; that the attempt would not be made 
 Li London, Because it was the seat of heresy, but during one 
 
 of her journeys ; and that a certain James G would 
 
 undertake it." The same day the council met and deliberated 
 on Elizabeth's assassination. Philip declared his willing- 
 ness to undertake the foul deed recommended by his holi- 
 ness ; but as it would be an expensive business, his ministers
 
 V1U PREFACE. 
 
 hinted to the nuncio that the pope ought to furnish the money. 
 This horrible but instructive recital will be found with all its 
 details in the Histoire de Marie Stuart, by M. Mignet. vol. ii. 
 p. 159, etc. It is true that these things took place in the 
 sixteenth century; but the Romish church has canonized 
 this priestly murderer, an honour conferred on a very small 
 number of popes, and the canonization took place in the 
 eighteenth century.* This is not a very distant date. 
 
 And these theories, so calculated to trouble nations, are still 
 to be met with in the nineteenth century. At this very moment 
 there are writers asserting principles under cover of which 
 the pope may interfere in affairs of state. The kings of 
 Europe, terrified by the deplorable outbreaks of 1848, ap- 
 pear almost everywhere ready to support the court of Rome 
 by arms ; and ultra-montanism takes advantage of this to 
 proclaim once more, " that the popedom is above the monar- 
 chy ; that it is the duty of the inferior (the king) to obey the 
 superior ; that it is the duty of the superior (the pope) to de- 
 pose the sovereigns who abuse their power, and to condemn 
 the subjects who resist it ; and, finally, that this public law 
 of Christian Europe, abolished by the ambition of sove- 
 reigns or the insubordination of peoples, should be revived." 
 Such are the theories now professed not only by priests 
 but by influential laymen, j- To this opinion belong, at 
 the present hour, all the zeal and enthusiasm of Roman- 
 ism, and this alone we are bound to acknowledge is con- 
 sistent with the principles of popery. And accordingly it is 
 to be feared that this party will triumph, unless we oppose 
 it with all the forces of the human understating, of reli- 
 gious and political liberty, and above all, of the word of 
 
 * Acta canonisationis S. Pii. V. Romse, 1720, folio. 
 
 } See in particular Le Catholicisme, le Liberalisme et le Socialisms, and 
 other writings of Donoso Cortes, marquis of Valdegamas, one of the most 
 distinguished members of the constitutional party in Spain.
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 God. The most distinguished ofgan of public opinion in 
 France, alarmed by the progress of these ultramontane doc- 
 trines, said not long ago of this party : " In its eyes there 
 exists but one real authority in the world, that of the pope. 
 All questions, not only religious but moral and political, are 
 amenable to one tribunal, supreme and infallible, the pope's. 
 The pope has the right to absolve subjects of their oath of 
 fidelity; subjects have the right to take up arms against 
 their prince when he rebels against the decisions of the holy 
 sec. This is the social and political theory of the Middle 
 Ages."* 
 
 Since the popedom asserts claims both spiritual and tem- 
 poral, the church and the state ought to resist it, each in its 
 own sphere, and with its peculiar arms: the church (by 
 which I mean the believers), solely with Holy Scrip- 
 ture ; the state with such institutions as are calculated to 
 secure its independence. What ! the church is bound to de- 
 fend what belongs to the church, and the state is not to 
 defend what belongs to me state? If robbers should en- 
 deavour to plunder two houses, would it be just and chari- 
 table for one neighbour to say to the other, " I must defend 
 my house, but you must let yours be stripped?" If the 
 pope desires to have the immaculate conception of the Virgin, 
 or any other religious doctrine, preached, let the fullest 
 liberty be granted him, and let him build as many churches 
 as he pleases to do it in : we claim this in the plainest lan- 
 guage. But if the pope, like Saint Pius, desires to kill the 
 Queen of England, or at least (for no pope in our days, were 
 he even saint enough to be canonized, would conceive such 
 an idea), if the pope desires to infringe in any way on 
 the rights of the state, then let the state resist him with 
 tried wisdom and unshaken firmness. Let us beware of an 
 ultra-spiritualism which forgets the lessons of history, and 
 
 * Journal des De'bats, 18th January 1853. 
 I*
 
 X PBEFACE. 
 
 overlooks the rights of kings and peoples. Wh'en it is 
 found among theologians, it is an error ; in statesmen, it is 
 a danger. 
 
 Finally, and this consideration revives our hopes, there is 
 a fourth motive which gives at this time a particular im- 
 portance to the history we are about to relate. The Refor- 
 mation is now entering upon a new phasis. The move- 
 ment of the sixteenth century had died away during the 
 seventeenth and eighteenth, and it was often to churches 
 which had lost every spark of life that the historian had 
 then to recount the narrative of this great revival. This is 
 the case no longer. After three centuries, a new and a 
 greater movement is succeeding that which we describe in 
 these volumes. The principles of the religious regeneration, 
 which God accomplished three hundred years ago, are now 
 carried to the end of the world with the greatest energy. 
 The task of the sixteenth century lives again in the nine- 
 teenth, but more emancipated from the temporal power, 
 more spiritual, more general; and it is the Anglo-Saxon 
 race that God chiefly employs for the accomplishment of this 
 universal work. The English Reformation acquires there- 
 fore, in our days, a special importance. If the Reformation 
 of Germany was the foundation of the building, that of Eng- 
 land was its crowning stone. 
 
 The work begun in the age of the apostles, renewed in 
 the times of the reformers, should be resumed in our days 
 with a holy enthusiasm ; and this work is very simple and 
 very beautiful, for it consists in establishing the throne of 
 Jesus Christ both in the church and on earth. 
 
 Evangelical faith does not place on the throne of the church 
 either human reason or religious conscientiousness, as some 
 would have it; but it sets thereon Jesus Christ, who is 
 both the knowledge taught and the doctor who teaches it ; 
 who explains his word by the word, and by the light of his
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 Holy Spirit ; who by it bears witness to the truth, that ia 
 to say, to his redemption, and teaches the essential laws 
 which should regulate the inner life of his disciples. Evan- 
 gelical faith appeals to the understanding, to the heart, and 
 to the will of .every Christian, only to impose on them the 
 duty to submit to the divine authority of Christ, to listen, 
 believe, love, comprehend, and act, as God requires. 
 
 Evangelical faith does not place on the throne of the 
 church the civil power, or the secular magistrate; biit it 
 sets thereon Jesus Christ, who has said, / am King ; who 
 imparts to his subjects the principle of life, who establishes 
 his kingdom here on earth, and preserves and develops it ; 
 and who, directing all mortal events, is now making the 
 progressive conquest of th'e world, until he shall exercise in 
 person his divine authority in the kingdom of his glory. 
 
 Finally, evangelical faith does not place on the throne of 
 the church priests, councils, doctors, or their traditions, or 
 that vice-God (veri Dei vicem gerit in terris, as the 
 Romish gloss has it), that infallible pontiff, who, reviving the 
 errors of the pagans, ascribes salvation to the forms of 
 worship and to the meritorious works of men. It sots 
 thereon Jesus Christ, the great High-priest of his people, 
 the God-man, who, by an act of his free love, bore in 6ur 
 stead, in his atoning sacrifice, the penalty of sin ; who has 
 taken away the curse from our heads, and thus become the 
 creator of a new race. 
 
 Such is the essential work of that Christianity, which the 
 apostolic age transmitted to the reformers, and which it now 
 transmits to the Christians of the nineteenth century. 
 
 While the thoughts of great numbers are led astray in the 
 midst of ceremonies, priests, human lucubrations, pontifical 
 fables, and philosophic reveries, and are driven to and fro in 
 the dust of this world, evangelical faith rises even to heaven, 
 and falls prostrate before Him who sitteth on the throne.
 
 Xii PREFACE. 
 
 The Keformation is Jesus Christ. 
 
 "Lord, to whom shall we go, if not unto thee?" Let 
 others follow the devices of their imaginations, or prostrate 
 themselves beforS traditional superstitions, or kiss the feet of 
 a sinful man King of glory, we desire but Thee alone ! 
 
 ENEVA, March 1853.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK XVII. 
 
 ENGLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 g 
 
 Introduction Work of the Sixteenth Century Unity and Diversity- 
 Necessity of considering the entire Religious History of England- 
 Establishment of Christianity in Great Britain Formation of Ecclesi- 
 astical Catholicism in the Roman Empire Spiritual Christianity re- 
 ceived by Britain Slavery and Conversion of Succat His Mission to 
 Ireland Anglo-Saxons re-establish Paganism in England Col umba 
 at lona Evangelical Teaching Presbytery and Episcopacy in Great 
 Britain Continental Missions of the Britons An Omission, Page 17 
 
 CHAPTER U? 
 
 Pope Gregory the Great Desires to reduce Britain Policy of Gregory 
 and Augustine Arrival of the Mission Appreciation Britain supe- 
 rior to Rome Dionoth at Bangor First and Second Romish Aggres- 
 sionsAnguish of the Britons Pride of Rome Rome has recourse to 
 the Sword Massacre Saint Peter scourges an Archbishop Oswald 
 His Victory Gorman Mission of Oswald and Aldan Death of 
 Oswald, 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Character of Oswy Death of Aidan Wilfrid at Rome At Oswald's 
 Court FInan and Colman Independence of the Church attacked 
 Oswy's Conquests and Troubles Synodus PharensisCedda. Dege- 
 neration The Disputation Peter, the Gatekeeper Triumph of Rome 
 Grief of the Britons Popedom organized in England Papal Exul- 
 tation Archbishop Theodore Cedda re-ordained Discord in the 
 Church Disgrace and Treachery of Wilfrid His End Scotland 
 attacked Adamnan lona resists A King converted by Architects 
 The Monk Egbert at lona His History Monkish Visions Fall 
 oflooa, 42
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Clement Struggle between a Scotchman and an Englishman Word of 
 God only Clement's Sxiccess His Condemnation Virgil and the 
 Antipodes John Scotus and Philosophical Religion Alfred and the 
 Bible Darkness and Popery William the Conqueror Wulston at 
 Edward's Tomb Struggle between William and Hildebrand The 
 Pope yields Ciesaropapia, Page 60 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Anselm's Firmness Becket's Austerity The King scourged John be- 
 comes the Pope's Vassal Collision between Popery and Liberty 
 The Vassal King ravages his Kingdom Religion of the Senses and 
 Superstition, * . . . 70 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Reaction Grostete Principles of Reform Contest with the Pope 
 Sewal Progress of the Nation Opposition to the Papacy Conver- 
 sion of Bradwardine Grace is Supreme Edward III. Statutes of 
 Provisors and Prcemunire, 76 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Mendicant Friars Their Disorders and Popular Indignation 
 Wickliffe ms Success Speeches of the Peers against the Papal Tri- 
 bute Agreement of Bruges Courtenay and Lancaster Wickliffe 
 before the Convocation Altercation between Lancaster and Cour- 
 tenay Riot Three Briefs against Wickliffe Wickliffe at Lambeth 
 Mission of the Poor Priests Their Preachings and Persecutions 
 Wickliffe and the Four Regents, , 83 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Bible Wickliffe's Translation Effects of its Publication Opposi- 
 tion of the Clergy Wickliffe's Fourth Phasis Transubstantiation 
 Excommunication Wickliffe's Firmness Wat Tyler The Synod 
 The Condemned Propositions Wickliffe's Petition Wickliffe beforo 
 the Primate at Oxford Wickliffe summoned to Rome His Answer 
 The Trialogue His Death And Character His Teaching His Ec- 
 clesiastical Views A Prophecy, 94 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Wickliffites-Call for Reform Richard II. The First Martyr- 
 Lord Cobham Appears before Henry V. Before the Archbishop 
 His Confession and Death The Lollards, .... 107
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Learning at Florence The Tudors Erasmus visits England Sir 
 Thomas More Dean Colet Erasmus and young Henry Prince 
 Arthur and Catherine Marriage and Death Catherine betrothed to 
 Henry Accession of Henry VIII. Enthusiasm of the Learned- 
 Erasmus recalled to England Cromwell before the Pope Catherine 
 proposed to Henry Their Marriage and Court Tournaments 
 
 Henry's Danger, Page 113 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The Pope excites to War Colet's Sermon at St Paul's The Flemish 
 Campaign Marriage of Louis XII. and Princess Mary Letter from 
 Anne Boleyn Marriage of Brandon and Mary Oxford Sir Thomas, 
 More at Court Attack upon the Monasteries Colet's Household He 
 preaches Reform The Greeks and Trojans, .... 126 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Wolsey His first Commission His Complaisance and Dioceses Cardi- 
 nal, Chancellor, and Legate Ostentation and Necromancy His Spies 
 and Enmity Pretensions of the Clergy, 135 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Wolves Richard Hun A Murder Verdict of the Jury Hun con- 
 demned, and his Character vindicated The Gravesend Passage-boat 
 A Festival disturbed Brown tortured Visit from his Wife A Martyr 
 Character of Erasmus 1516 and 1517 Erasmus goes to Basle, 140 
 
 BOOK XVIII. 
 
 THE REVIVAL OF THE CHUSCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tour reforming Powers Which reformed England ! Papal Reform ? 
 Episcopal Reform 1 Royal Reform ? What is required in a legitimate 
 Reform ! The Share of the Kingly Power Share of the Episcopal Au- 
 thority High and Low Church Political Events The Greek and 
 Latin New Testament Thoughts of Erasmus Enthusiasm and Anger 
 Desire of Erasmus Clamours of the Priests Their Attack at Court 
 Astonishment of Erasmus His Labours for this Work Edwird Lee ; 
 bis Character Lee's Tragedy Conspiracy, .... 14!)
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Effects of the New Testament in the Universities Conversations A 
 Cambridge Fellow Bilney buys the New Testament The First Pas- 
 sage His Conversion Protestantism, the Fruit of the Gospel The 
 Vale of the Severn William Tyndale Evangelization at Oxford 
 Bilney teaches at Cambridge Fryth Is Conversion possible ? True 
 Consecration The Reformation has begun, . . . Page 160 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Alarm of the Clergy The Two Days Thomas Man's Preaching True 
 real Presence Persecutions at Coventry Standish preaches at St 
 Paul's His Petition to the King and Queen His Arguments and 
 Defeat Wolsey's Ambition First Overtures Henry and Francis 
 Candidates for the Empire Conference between Francis I. and Sir 
 T. Boleyn The Tiara promised to Wolsey The Cardinal's Intrigues 
 with Charles and Francis, . 1(0 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Tyndale-Sodbury Hall Sir John and Lady Walsh Table-Talk -The 
 Holy Scriptures The Images The Anchor of Faith A Roman Camp 
 Preaching of Faith and Works Tyndale accused by the Priests 
 They tear up what ho has planted Tyndale resolves to translate the 
 Bible His first Triumph The Priests in the Taverns Tyndale sum- 
 moned before the Chancellor of Worcester Consoled by an aged Doc- 
 tor Attacked by a Schoolman His Secret becomes known He leaves 
 SodburyHall, 177 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Luther's Works in England Consultation of the Bishops The Bull of 
 Leo X. published in England Luther's Books burnt Letter of Henry 
 VIII. He undertakes to write against Luther Cry of Alarm Tra- 
 dition and Sacramentalism Prudence of Sir T. More The Book 
 presented to the Pope Defender of the Faith Exultation of the 
 King, 188 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Wolsey's Machinations to obtain the Tiara He gains Charles V. Alli- 
 ance between Henry and Charles Wolsey offers to command the 
 Troops Treaty of Bruges Henry believes himself King of France 
 Victories of Francis I. Death of Leo X 195 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Just Men of Lincolnshire Their Assemblies and Teaching Agnes 
 and Morden Itinerant Libraries Polemical Conversations Sarcasm 
 Royal Decree and Terror Depositions and Condemnations Four 
 Majtyra A Conclave Charl|s consoles Wolsey, , . 200
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Character of Tyndalo He arrives in London He preaches The C'oth 
 and the Ell The Bishop of London gives Audience to Tyndale He is 
 dismissed A Christian Merchant of London Spirit of Love in the Re- 
 formation Tyndale in Monmouth's House Fryth helps him to tran- 
 slate the New Testament Importunities of the Bishop of Lincoln- 
 Persecution in London Tyndale's Resolution He departs His In- 
 dignation against the Prelates His Hopes, . . . Page 206 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 .Bilney at Cambridge Conversions The University Cross-bearer A 
 Leicestershire Farmer A Party of Students Superstitious Practices 
 An obstinate Papist The Sophists Latimer attacks Stafford Bil- 
 ney's Resolution Latimer hears Bilney's Confession Confessor con- 
 verted New Life in Latimer Bilney preaches Grace Nature of the 
 Ministry Latimer's Character and Teaching Works of Charity- 
 Three Classes of Adversaries Clark and Dalaber, . . 216 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Wolsey seeks the Tiara Clement VII. is elected Wolsey's Dissimu- 
 lation Charles offers France to Henry Pace's Mission on this Subject 
 Wolsey reforms the convents His secret Alliances Treaty between 
 France and England Taxation and Insurrection False Charges 
 against the Reformers Latimer's Defence Tenterden Steeple, 229 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Tyndale at Hamburg First two Gospels Embarrassment Tyndale 
 at NVittemberg At Cologne The New Testament at Press Sudden 
 Interruption Cochlaeus at Cologne Rupert's Manuscripts Discovery 
 of Cochlaeus His Inquiries His Alarm Rincke and the Senate's 
 Prohibition Consternation and Decision of Tyndale Cochlaeus writes 
 to England Tyndale ascends the Rhine Prints two Editions at 
 Worms Tyndale's Prayer, 236 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Worms and Cambridge St Paul resuscitated Latimer's Preaching 
 Never Man spake like this Man Joy and Vexation at Cambridge 
 Sermon by Prior Buckingham Irony Latimer's Reply to Bucking- 
 ham The Students threatened Latimer preaches before the Bishop 
 He is forbidden to preach The most zealous of Bishops Barnes the 
 Restorer of Letters Bilney undertakes to convert him Barnes offers 
 his Pulpit to Latimer -Fry th's Thirst for God Christmas Eve, 1525 
 Storm against Barnes Ferment in the Colleges Germany at Cam- 
 bridgeMeetings at Oxford General Expectation, . , 246
 
 10 CONTENTS* 
 
 t 
 
 BOOK XIX. 
 
 THE ENGLISH NEW TESTAMENT AND THE COURT OP ROME, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Church and State essentially distinct Their fundamental Principles 
 What restores Life to the Church Separation from Rome necessary 
 Reform and Liberty The New Testament crosses the Sea Is hidden 
 in London Garret's Preaching and Zeal Dissemination of Scripture 
 What the People find in it The Effects it produces Tyndale's 
 Explanations Roper, More's Son-in-law Garret carries Tyndale's 
 Testament to Oxford Henry and his Valet The Supplication of the 
 Beggars Two Sorts of Beggars Evils caused by Priests More's 
 Supplications of the Souls in Purgatory, . . . Page 2G1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The two Authorities Commencement of the Search Garret at Oxford 
 His Flight His Return and Im'prisonment Escapes and takes 
 Refuge with Dalaber Garret and Dalaber at Prayer The Magnifi- 
 catSurprise among the Doctors Clark's Advice Fraternal Love at 
 Oxford Alarm of Dalaber His Arrest and Examination He is 
 tortured Garret and twenty Fellows imprisoned The Cellar Con- 
 demnation and Humiliation, . . 273 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Persecution at Cambridge Barnes arrested A grand Search Barnes 
 at Wolsey's Palace Interrogated by the Cardinal Conversation be- 
 tween Wolsey and Barnes Barnes threatened with the Stake His 
 Fall and public Penance Richard Bayfield His Faith and Imprison- 
 ment Visits Cambridge Joins Tyndale The Confessors in the Cellar 
 at Oxford Four of them die The rest liberated, ... 283 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Luther's Letter to the King Henry's Anger His Reply Luther's Re- 
 solutionPersecutions Barnes escapes Proclamations against the 
 New Testament W. Roy to Caiaphas Third Edition of the New 
 Testament The Triumph of Law and Liberty Hackett attacks the 
 Printer Hackett's Complaints A Seizure The Year 1526 in Eng- 
 land 293
 
 CONTENTS. 11 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Wolsey desires to be revenged The Divorce suggested Henry's Senti- 
 ments towards the Queen Wolsey's first Steps Longland's Proceed 
 ings Refusal of Margaret of Valois Objection of the Bishop of Tar- 
 bes Henry's Uneasiness Catherine's Alarm Mission to Spain 
 
 Page 300 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Anne Boleyn appointed Maid.of Honour to Catherine Lord Percy be- 
 comes attached to her Wolsey separates them Anne enters Mar- 
 garet's Household Siege of Rome ; Cromwell Wolsey's Intercession 
 for the Popedom He demands the Hand of Rene'e of France for 
 Henry Failure Anne reappears at Court Repels the King's Ad- 
 vancesHenry's Letter He resolves to accelerate the Divorce Two 
 Motives which induce Anne to refuse the Crown Wolsey's Opposi- 
 tion, v. . . . . . . 307 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Bilney's Preaching His Arrest Arthur's Preaching and Imprisonment 
 Bilney's Examination Contest between the Judge and the Prisoner 
 Bilney's \^%akness and Fall His Terrors Two Waiits Arrival of 
 the Fourth Edition of the New Testament Joy among the Believers, 
 
 317 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 
 
 The Papacy intercepts the Gospel The King consults Sir Thomas More 
 Ecclesiastical Conferences about the Divorce The Universities- 
 Clarke The Nun of Kent Wolsey decides to do the King's Will Mis- 
 sion to the Pope Four Documents Embarrassment of Charles V. 
 Francis Philip at Madrid Distress and Resolution of Charles Ha 
 turns away from the Reformation Conference at the Castle of St 
 Angelo Knight arrives in Italy His Flight Treaty between the 
 Pope and the Emperor Escape of the Pope Confusion of Henry 
 VIII. Wolsey's Orders- His Entreaties, . . . .325 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The English Envoys at Orvieto Their Oration to the Pope Clement 
 gains Time The Envoys and Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor Stratagem 
 of the Pope Knight discovers it and returns The Transformations of 
 Antichrist The English obtain a new Document Fresh Stratagem 
 Demand of a second Cardinal-legate The Pope's new Expedient - End 
 of the Campaign, 334
 
 12 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Disappointment in England War declared against Charles V Wolsey 
 desires to get him deposed by the Pope A new Scheme Embassy of 
 Fox and Gardiner Their Arrival at Orvieto Their first Interview 
 with Clement The Pope reads a Treatise by Henry Gardiner's 
 Threats and Clement's Promise The Modern Fabius Fresh Inter- 
 view and Menaces The Pope has not the Key Gardiner's Proposition 
 Difficulties and Delays of the Cardinals Gardiner's last Blows 
 Reverses of Charles V. in Italy The Pope's Terror and Concession 
 The Commission granted Wolsey demands the Engagement A Loop- 
 holeThe Pope's Distress, Page 343 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Fox's Report to Henry and Anne Wolsey's Impression He demands 
 the Decretal One of the Cardinal's petty Manoeuvres He sets his 
 Conscience at Rest Gardiner fails at Rome Wolsey's new Perfidy 
 The King's Anger against the Pope Sir T. More predicts Religious 
 Liberty -Immorality of Ultramontane Socialism Erajmus invited 
 Wolsey's last Flight Energetic Efforts at Rome Clement grants all 
 Wolsey triumphs Union of Rome and England, . . 356 
 
 BOOK XX. 
 
 THE TWO DIVORCESf 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Progress of the Reformation The two Divorces Entreaties to Anne 
 Boleyn The Letters in the Vatican Henry to Anne Henry's 
 Second Letter Third Fourth Wolsey's Alarm His fruitless Pro- 
 ceedings He turns The Sweating Sickness Henry's Fears New 
 Letters to Anne Anne falls sick ; her Peace Henry writes to her 
 Wolsey's Terror Campeggio does not arrive All dissemble at 
 Court, 366
 
 CONTENTS. 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Coverdale and Inspiration He undertakes to translate the Scriptures 
 Ilia Joy and Spiritual Songs Tyball and the Laymen Coverdale 
 preaches at Bumpstead Revival at Colchester Incomplete Societies 
 and the New Testament Persecution Monmouth arrested and 
 released, Page 379 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Political Changes Fresh Instructions from the Pope to Campeggio His 
 Delays He unbosoms himself to Francis A Prediction Arrival of 
 Campcggio Wolsey's Uneasiness Henry's Satisfaction The Car- 
 dinal's Project Campeggio's Reception First Interview with the 
 Queen and with the King Useless Efforts to make Campeggio part 
 with the Decretal The Nuncio's Conscience Public Opinion Meas 
 ures taken by the King His Speech to the Lords and Aldermen 
 Festivities Wolsey seeks French Support Contrariety, . 387 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 True Catholicity Wolsey Harman's Matter West sent to Cologne- 
 Labours of Tyndale and Fryth Rincke at Frankfort He makes a 
 Discovery Tyndale at Marburg West returns to England His Tor- 
 tures in the Monastery, 403 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Necessity of the Reformation Wolsey's Earnestness with Da Casale 
 An Audience with Clement VII. Cruel Position of the Pope A Judas 
 Kiss A new Brief Bryan and Vannes sent to Rome Henry and Du 
 Bellay Wolsey's Reasons against the Brief Excitement in London- 
 Metamorphosis Wolsey's Decline His Anguish, . . . 409 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Pope's Illness Wolsey's Desire Conference about the Members of 
 the Conclave Wolsey's Instructions The Pope recovers Speech of 
 the English Envoys to the Pope Clement willing to abandon England 
 The English demand the Pope's Denial of the Brief Wolsey's Alarm 
 Intrigues Bryan's Clearsightedness Henry's Threats Wolsey's 
 new Efforts He calls for an Appeal to Rome, and retracts Wolsey 
 and Du Bellay at Richmond The Ship of the State, . . 416
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Discussion between the Evangelicals and the Catholics Union of Learn- 
 ing and Life The Laity : Tewkesbury His Appearance before the 
 Bishops' Court He is tortured Two Classes of Opponents A Theo- 
 logical Due! Scripture and the Church Emancipation of the Mind 
 Mission to the Low Countries Tyndale's Embarrassment Tonstall 
 wishes to buy the Books Packington's Stratagem Tyndale departs 
 for Antwerp His Shipwreck Arrival at Hamburg Meets Cover- 
 dale, Page 425 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Royal Session Sitting of the l-8th June ; the Queen's Protest 
 Sitting of the 21st June Summons to the King and Queen Catherine's 
 Speech She retires Impression on the Audience The King's Decla- 
 ration Wolsey's Protest Quarrel between the Bishops New Sitting 
 Apparition to the Maid of Kent Wolsey chafed by Henry The 
 Earl of Wiltshire at Wolsey's Private Conference between Catherine 
 and the two Legates, 436 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Trial resumed Catherine summoned Twelve Articles The Wit- 
 nesses' Evidence Arthur and Catherine really married Campeggio 
 opposes the Argument of Divine Right Other Arguments The Legates 
 required to deliver Judgment Their Tergiversations Change in Men's 
 Minds Final Session General Expectation Adjournment during 
 Harvest Campeggio excuses this Impertinence the King'^ Indigna- 
 tion Suffolk's Violence Wolsey's Reply He is ruined General Ac- 
 cusations The Cardinal turns to an Episcopal Life, . . 446 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Anne Boleyn at Hever She reads the Obedience of a Christian Man 
 Is recalled to Court Miss Gainsford and George Zouch Tyndale's 
 Book converts Zouch Zouch in the Chapel-Royal The Book seized 
 Anne applies to Henry The King reads the Book Pretended In- 
 fluence of the Book on Henry The Court at Woodstock The Park 
 and its Goblins Henry's Esteem for Anne, .... 453 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Embarrassment of the Pope The Triumphs of Charles decide him He 
 traverses the Cause to Rome Wolsey's Dejection Henry's Wrath 
 His Fears Wolsey obtains Comfort Arrival of the two Legates at
 
 CONTEXTS. 15 
 
 Grafton Wolsey's Reception by Henry Wolsey and Norfolk at Din- 
 ner Henry with Anne Conference between the King and the Cardi- 
 nal Wolsey's Joy and Grief The Supper at Euston Campeggio's 
 Farewell Audience Wolsey's Disgrace Campeggio at Dover He is 
 accused by the Courtiers Leaves England Wolsey foresees his own 
 Fall and that of the Papacy, Page 461 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Meeting at Waltham Youth of Thomas Cranmer His early Educa- 
 tion Studies Scripture for three years His Functions as Examiner 
 The Supper at Waltham New View of the Divorce Fox communi- 
 cates it to Henry Cranmer's Vexation Conference with the King 
 Cranccr at the Boleyns, 472 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Wolsey in the Cou~t of Chancery Accused by the Dukes Refuses to 
 five pp th'., Gr3at Seal His Despair He gives up the Seal Order to 
 denart His inventory Alarm The Scene of Departure Favourable 
 Message from the King Wolsey's Joy His Fool Arrival at Esher, 
 
 479 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Thomas More elected Chancellor A lay Government one of the grea.t 
 Facts of the Reformation Wolsey accused of subordinating England 
 to the Popj He implores the King's Clemency His Condemnation 
 Cromwell at Et-her His Character He sets out for London Sir 
 Christopher Hales recommends him to the King Cromwell's Interview 
 with Henry in the Park A new Theory Cromwell elected Member 
 of Parliament Opened by Sir Thomas More Attack on ecclesiastical 
 Abuses Reforms pronounced by the Convocation Three Bills Ro- 
 chester attacks them Resistance of the House of Commons Struggles 
 Henry sanctions the three Bills Alarm of the Clergy and Distur- 
 bances, 486 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The last Hour More's Fanaticism Debates in Convocation Royal 
 Proclamation The Bishop of Norwich Sentiences condemned Lati- 
 mer's Opposition The New Testament burnt The Persecution be- 
 gins -Hitton Bayfield Tonsiall and Packington Bayfield arrested 
 The Rector Patmore Lollards' Tower Tyndale and Patmore a 
 Musician Freese the Painter Placards and Martyrdom of Bennet 
 Thomas More and John Petit Bilney, 496
 
 16 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Wolsey's Terror Impeachment by the Peers Cromwell saves him 
 The Cardinal's Illness Ambition returns to him His Practices in 
 Yorkshire He is arrested by Northumberland His Departure Ar- 
 rival of the Constable of the Tower Wolsey at Leicester Abbey Per- 
 secuting Language He dies Three Movements : Supremacy, Scrip- 
 ture, and Faith, . ... Page 510
 
 HISTOKY OF THE KEFOKMATION, 
 
 BOOK XVII. 
 
 ENGLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 introduction Work of the Sixteenth Century Unity and Diversity- 
 Necessity of considering the entire Religious History of England 
 Establishment of Christianity in Great Britain Formation of Ecclesi- 
 astical Catholicism in the Roman Empire Spiritual Christianity re- 
 ceived by Britain Slavery and Conversion of Succat His Mission to 
 Ireland Anglo-Saxons re-establish Paganism in England Columba 
 at lona Evangelical Teaching Presbytery and Episcopacy in Great 
 Britain Continental Missions of the Britons An Omission. 
 
 THOSE heavenly powers which had lain dormant in the 
 church since the first ages of Christianity, awoke from their 
 slumber in the sixteenth century, and this awakening called 
 the modern times into existence. The church was created 
 anew, and from that regeneration have flowed the great de- 
 velopments of literature and science, of morality, liberty, 
 and industry, which at present characterize the nations of 
 Christendom. None of these things would have existed 
 without the Reformation. Whenever society enters upon a 
 new era, it requires the baptism of faith. In the sixteenth 
 century God gave to man this consecration from on high by 
 leading him back from mere outward profession and the 
 mechanism of works to an inward and lively faith. 
 VOL. v. 2
 
 18 UNITY AND DIVERSITY. 
 
 This transformation was not effected without straggles 
 struggles which presented at first a remarkable unity. On 
 the day of battle one and the same feeling animated every 
 bosom : affer the victory they became divided. Unity of faith 
 indeed remained, but the difference of nationalities brought 
 into the church a diversity of forms. Of this we are about 
 to witness a striking example. The Reformation, which 
 had begun its triumphal march in Germany, Switzerland, 
 France, and several other parts of the continent, was des- 
 tined to receive new strength by the conversion of a cele- 
 brated country, long known as the Isle of Saints. This 
 island was to add its banner to the trophy of Protestantism, 
 but that banner preserved its distinctive colours. When 
 England became reformed, a puissant individualism joined 
 its might to the great unity. 
 
 If we search for the characteristics of the British Refor- 
 mation, we shall find that, beyond any other, they were social, 
 national, and truly human. There is no people among 
 whom the Reformation has produced to the same degree 
 that morality and order, that liberty, public spirit, and ac- 
 tivity, which are the very essence of a nation's greatness. 
 Just as the papacy has degraded the Spanish peninsula, has 
 the gospel exalted the British islands. Hence the study 
 upon which we are entering possesses an interest peculiar 
 to itself. 
 
 In order that this study may be useful, it should have a 
 character of universality. To confine the history of a people 
 within the space of a few years, or even of a century, would 
 deprive that history of both truth and life. We might in- 
 deed have traditions, chronicles, and legends, but there 
 would be no history. History is a wonderful organization, 
 no part of which can be retrenched. To understand the 
 present, we must know the past. Society, like man him- 
 self, has its infancy, youth, maturity, and old age. Ancient 
 or Pagan society, which had spent its infancy in the East 
 in the midst of the antihellenic races, had its youth in the 
 animated epoch of the Greeks, its manhood in the stern 
 period of Roman greatness, and its old age under the decline 
 of the empire. Modern society has passed through analpr
 
 THE GOSPEL CARRIED TO BRITAIN. 1& 
 
 gous stages : at the time of the Reformation it attained that 
 of the full-grown man. We shall now proceed to trace the 
 destinies of the church in England, from the earliest times 
 of Christianity. These long and distant preparations are 
 one of the distinctive characteristics of its reformation. 
 
 Before the sixteenth century this church had passed 
 through two great phases. 
 
 The first was that of its formation the second that of its 
 corruption. 
 
 In its formation it was oriento-apostolical. 
 
 In its corruption it was successively national-papistical 
 and royal-papistical. 
 
 After these two degrees of decline came the last and great 
 phasis of the Reformation. 
 
 In the second century of the Christian era vessels were 
 frequently sailing to the savage shores of Britain from the 
 ports of Asia Minor, Greece, Alexandria, or the Greek 
 colonies in Gaul. Among the merchants busied in calculat- 
 ing the profits they could make upon tbe produce of the 
 East with which their ships were laden, would occasionally 
 be found a few pious men from the banks of the Meander or 
 the Hermus, conversing peacefully with one another about 
 the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, 
 and rejoicing at the prospect of saving by these glad tidings 
 the pagans towards whom they were steering. It would 
 appear that some British prisoners of war, having learnt 
 to know Christ during their captivity, bore also to their 
 fellow-countrymen the knowledge of, this Saviour. It may 
 be, too, that some Christian soldiers, the Corneliuses of those 
 imperial armies whose advanced posts reached the southern 
 parts of Scotland, desirous of more lasting conquests, may 
 have read to the people whom they had subdued, the writings 
 of Matthew, John, and Paul. It is of little consequence to 
 know whether one of these first converts was, according to 
 tradition, a prince named Lucius. It is certain that the 
 tidings of the Son of man, crucified and raised again, under 
 Tiberius, spread through these islands more rapidly than the 
 dominion of the emperors, and that before the end of the
 
 20 CULDEES. 
 
 second century many churches worshipped Christ beyond 
 the walls of Adrian ; in those mountains, forests, and west- 
 ern isles, which for centuries past the Druids had filled with 
 their mysteries and their sacrifices, and on which even the 
 Roman eagles had never stooped.* These churches were 
 formed after the eastern type : the Britons would have re- 
 fused to receive the type of that Rome whose yoke they 
 detested. 
 
 The first thing which the British Christians received from 
 the capital of the empire was persecution. But Diocletian, 
 by striking the disciples of Jesus Christ in Britain, only in- 
 creased their number. f Many Christians from the southern 
 part of the island took refuge in Scotland, where they raised 
 their humble roofs, and under the name of Culdees prayed 
 for the salvation of their protectors. When the surrounding 
 pagans saw the holiness of these men of God, they aban- 
 doned in great numbers their sacred oaks, their mysterious 
 caverns, and their blood-stained altars, and obeyed the gentle 
 voice of the Gospel. After the death of these pious refugees, 
 their cells were transformed into houses of prayer.j: In 305 
 Constantius Chlorus succeeded to the throne of the Csesars, 
 and put an end to the persecution. 
 
 The Christianity which was brought to these people by 
 merchants, soldiers, or missionaries, although not the eccle- 
 siastical Catholicism already creeping into life in the Roman 
 empire, was not the primitive evangelism of the apostles. 
 The East and the South could only give to the North of 
 what they possessed. The mere human period had suc- 
 ceeded to the creative and miraculous period of the church. 
 After the extraordinary manifestations of the Holy Ghost, 
 which had produced the apostolic age, the church had been 
 left to the inward power of the word and of the Comforter. 
 
 * Britannorum inaccessa Romanis loca Christo vero subdita. (Ter- 
 tullian contra Judseos, lib. vii.) This work, from its bearing no traces 
 of Montanism, seems to belong to the .first part of Tertullian's life. See 
 also Origen in Lucam, cap. i. liomil. 6. 
 
 + Lactantius, de mortibus persecutorum, cap. xii. 
 
 J Multi ex Brittonibus Christian! soevitiam Diocletiani timentes ad 
 
 eos confugerant ut vita functorrm cellse in templa commutarentur 
 
 Buchanan, iv. o. xxxv.
 
 FORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL CATHOLICISM. 21 
 
 But Christians did not generally comprehend the spiritual 
 life to which they were called. God had been pleased to 
 give them a divine religion ; and this they gradually assi- 
 milated more and more to the religions of human origin. 
 Instead of saying, in the 'spirit of the Gospel, the word of 
 God first, and through it the doctrine and the life the doc- 
 trine and the life, and through them the forms ; they said, 
 forms first, and salvation by these forms. They ascribed to 
 bishops a power which belongs only to Holy Scripture. 
 Instead of ministers of the word, they desired to have 
 priests ; instead of an inward sacrifice, a sacrifice offered on 
 the altar ; and costly temples instead of a living church. 
 They began to seek in men, in ceremonies, and in holy 
 places, what they could find only in the Word and in the 
 lively faith of the children of God. In this manner evan- 
 gelical religion gave place to Catholicism, and by gradual 
 degeneration in after-years Catholicism gave birth to popery. 
 
 This grievous transformation took place more particularly 
 in the East, in Africa, and in Italy. Britain was at first 
 comparatively exempt. At the very time 1 that the savage 
 Picts and Scots, rushing from their heathen homes, were 
 devastating the country, spreading terror on all sides, and 
 reducing the people to slavery, we discover here and there 
 some humble Christian receiving salvation not by a clerical 
 sacramentalism, but by the work of the Holy Ghost in the 
 heart. At the end of the fourth century we meet with an 
 illustrious example of such conversions. 
 
 On the picturesque banks of the Clyde, not far from Glas- 
 gow, in the Christian village of Bonavern, now Kilpatrick, 
 a little boy, of tender heart, lively temperament, and inde- 
 fatigable activity, passed the earlier days of his life. He 
 was born about the year 372 A.D., of a British family, and 
 was named Succat.* His father, Calpurnius, deacon of the 
 church of Bonavern, a simple-hearted pious man, and his 
 mother, Conchessa, sister to the celebrated Martin, arch- 
 bishop of Tours,j and a woman superior to the majority of 
 
 * In baptismo baud Patricium sed Succat a pareutibus fuisse dictum. 
 Usser. Brit. Eccl. Antiq. p. 428. 
 f Martini Turonum archiepiscopi consanguineam. Ibid.
 
 22 SUCCAT HIS CONVERSION. 
 
 her sex, had endeavoured to instil into his heart the doc- 
 trines of Christianity ; but Succat did not understand them. 
 He was fond of pleasure, and delighted to be the leader of 
 his youthful companions. In the midst of his frivolities, he 
 committed a serious fault. 
 
 Some few years later, his parents having quitted Scot- 
 land and settled in Armorica (Bretagne), a terrible calamity 
 befell them. One day as Succat was playing near the sea- 
 shore with two of his sisters, some Irish pirates, commanded 
 by O'Neal, carried them all three off to their boats, and sold 
 them in Ireland to the petty chieftain of some pagan clan. 
 Succat was sent into the fields to keep swine.* It was while 
 alone in these solitary pastures, without priest and without 
 temple, that the young slave called to mind the Divine, 
 lessons which his pious mother had so often read to him. 
 The fault which he had committed pressed heavily night 
 and day upon his soul: he groaned in heart, and wept. 
 He turned repenting towards that meek Saviour of whom 
 Conchessa had so often spoken ; he fell at His knees in that 
 heathen land, and imagined he felt the arms of a father 
 uplifting the prodigal son. Succat was then born from on 
 high, but by an agent so spiritual, so internal, that he knew 
 not " whence it cometh or whither it goeth." The gospel 
 was written with the finger of God on the tablets of his heart. 
 " I was sixteen years old," said he, " and knew not the true 
 God; but in that strange land the Lord opened my unbelieving 
 eyes, and, although late, I called my sins to mind, and was 
 converted with my whole heart to the Lord my God, who 
 regarded my low estate, had pity on my youth and ignor- 
 ance, and consoled me as a father consoles his children."-J- 
 
 Such words as these from the lips of a swineherd in the 
 green pastures of Ireland set clearly before us the Christianity 
 which in the fourth and fifth centuries converted many souls 
 in the British isles. In after-years, Rome established the 
 dominion of the priest and salvation by forms, independently 
 
 * Cujus porcorum pastor erat. Usser. Brit. Eccl. Antiq. p. 431. 
 
 t Et ibi Dominus aperuit sensum incredulitatis mese, ut vel sero remo 
 rarem delicta mea, et ut converterer toto corde ad Dominum Deum meum. 
 Patr. Confess. Usser. 431.
 
 EVANGELICAL FAITH. 23 
 
 of the dispositions of the heart ; but the primitive religion of 
 these celebrated islands was that living Christianity whose 
 substance is the grace of Jesus Christ, and whose power is 
 the grace of the Holy Ghost. The herdsman from the banks 
 of the Clyde was then undergoing those experiences wliteh 
 so many evangelical Christians in those countries have sub- 
 sequently undergone. " The love of God increased more 
 and more in me," said he, " with faith and the fear of His 
 name. The Spirit urged me to such a degree that I poured 
 forth as many as a hundred prayers in one day. And even 
 during the night, in the forests and on the mountains where 
 I kept my flock, the rain, and snow, and frost, and sufferings 
 which I endured, excited me to seek after God. At that 
 time, I felt not the indifference which now I feel : the Spirit 
 fermented in my heart."* Evangelical faith even then ex- 
 isted in the British islands in the person of this slave, and 
 of some few Christians born again, like him, from on high. 
 
 Twice a captive and twice rescued, Succat, after returning 
 to liis family, felt an irresistible appeal in his heart. It was 
 his duty to carry the gospel to those Irish pagans among 
 whom he had found Jesus Christ. His parents and his friends 
 endeavoured in vain to detain him ; the same ardent desire 
 pursued him in his dreams. During the silent watches of 
 the night he fancied he heard voices calling to him from the 
 dark forests of Erin : " Come, holy child, and walk once 
 more among us." He awoke in tears, his breast filled with 
 the keenest emotion.-]- He tore himself from the arms of his 
 parents, and rushed forth not as heretofore with his play- 
 fellows, when he would climb the summit of some lofty hill 
 but with a heart full of charity in Christ. He departed ; 
 " It was not done of my own strength," said he; "it was 
 God who overcame all." 
 
 Succat, afterwards known as Saint Patrick, and to which 
 name, as to that of Saint Peter and other servants of God, 
 
 * Ut ctiam in sylvis ct monte^ manebam, ct ante lucem cxcitabar ad 
 
 orationem per nivcm, per gelu, per pluviam quia tune Spiritus in me 
 
 fervebat. Pair. Confess. Usser. 432. 
 
 f Valde compuuctua sum corde et sic expergefactus. Patr. Confess. 
 Usser. 433.
 
 24 PATRICK'S MISSION PELAGIUS. 
 
 many superstitions have been attached, returned to Ireland, 
 but without visiting Rome, as an historian of the twelfth 
 century has asserted.* Ever active, prompt, and ingenious, 
 he collected the pagan tribes in the fields by beat of drum, 
 antl then narrated to them in their own tongue the history 
 of the Son of God. Erelong his simple recitals exercised a 
 divine power over their rude hearts, and many souls were 
 converted, not by external sacraments or by the worship of 
 images, but by the preaching of the word of God. The son 
 of a chieftain whom Patrick calls Benignus, learnt from him 
 to proclaim the Gospel, and was destined to succeed him. 
 The court bard, Dubrach Mac Valubair, no longer sang 
 druidical hymns, but canticles addressed to Jesus Christ. 
 Patrick was not entirely free from the errors of the time ; 
 perhaps he believed in pious miracles ; but generally speak- 
 ing we meet with nothing but the gospel in the earlier days 
 of the British church. The time no doubt will come when 
 Ireland will again feel the power of the Holy Ghost, which 
 had once converted it by the ministrations of a Scotchman. 
 Shortly before the evangelization of Patrick in Ireland, a 
 Briton named Pelagius, having visited Italy, Africa, and 
 Palestine, began to teach a strange doctrine. Desirous of 
 making head against the moral indifference into which most 
 of the Christians in those countries had fallen, and which 
 would appear to have been in strong contrast with the 
 British austerity, he denied the doctrine of original sin, ex- 
 tolled free-will, and maintained that, if man made use of all 
 the powers of his nature, he would attain perfection. We 
 do not find that he taught these opinions in his own coun- 
 try ; but from the continent, where he disseminated them, 
 they soon reached Britain. The British churches refused 
 to receive this "pervers% doctrine," their historian tells us, 
 "and to blaspheme the grace of Jesus Christ." f They do 
 not appear to have held the strict doctrine of Saint Augus- 
 tine : they believed indeed that man has need of an inward 
 
 
 
 * Jocelinus, Vita in Acta Sanctorum. 
 
 f- Verum Britanni cum neque suscipero dogma perversum, gratiam 
 Christi blasphernando nulla teuus vellent. Beda, Hist. Angl., lib. i.- cap. 
 irii. et xxi.
 
 SAXON INVASION. 25 
 
 change, and that this the divine power alone can effect ; but 
 like the churches of Asia, from which they had sprung, they 
 seem to have conceded something to our natural strength in 
 the work of conversion ; and Pelagius, with a good inten- 
 tion it would appear, went still further. However that may 
 be, these churches, strangers to the controversy, were unac- 
 quainted with all its subtleties. Two Gaulish bishops, Ger- 
 manus and Lupus, came to their aid, and those who had 
 been perverted returned into the way of truth.* 
 
 Shortly after this, events of great importance took place 
 in Great Britain, and the light of faith disappeared in pro- 
 found night. In 449, Hengist and Horsa, with their Saxon 
 followers, being invited by the wretched inhabitants to aid 
 them against the cruel ravages of the Picts and Scots, soon 
 turned their swords against the people they had come to 
 assist. Christianity was driven back with the Britons into 
 the mountains of Wales and the wild moors of Northumber- 
 land and Cornwall. Many British families remained in the 
 midst of the conquerors, but without exercising any religious 
 influence over them. While the conquering races, settled 
 at Paris, Ravenna, or Toledo, gradually laid aside their 
 paganism and savage manners, the barbarous customs of 
 the Saxons prevailed unmoderated throughout the kingdoms 
 of the Heptarchy, and in every quarter temples to Thor rose 
 above the churches in which Jesus Christ had been wor- 
 shipped. Gaul and the south of Europe, which still exhib- 
 ited to the eyes of the barbarians the last vestiges of Ro- 
 man grandeur, alone had the power of inspiring some degree 
 of respect in the formidable Germans, and of transforming 
 their faith. From this period, the Greeks and Latins, and 
 even the converted Goths, looked at this island with unut- 
 terable dread. The soil, said they, is covered with ser- 
 pents ; the air is thick with deadly exhalations ; the souls of 
 the departed are transported thither at midnight from the 
 shores of Gaul. Ferrymen, and sons of Erebus and Night, 
 admit these invisible shades into their boats, and listen, with a 
 shudder, to their mysterious whisperings. England, whence 
 
 * Depravati viam corrcctionis agnoscereiit. Beda, Hist. Angl., lib. L 
 cap. xvii. ct xxi. 
 
 2* B
 
 26 PAGANISM KESTOKED. 
 
 light was one clay to be shed over the habitable globe, was 
 then the trysting-place of the dead. And yet the Christianity 
 of the British isles was not to be annihilated by these bar- 
 barian invasions ; it possessed a strength which rendered it 
 capable of energetic resistance. 
 
 In one of the churches formed by Succat's preaching, 
 there arose about two centuries after him a pious man 
 named Columba, son of Feidlimyd, the son of Fergus. 
 Valuing the cross of Christ more highly than the royal 
 blood that flowed in his veins, he resolved to devote him- 
 self to the King of heaven. Shall he not repay to the 
 country of Succat what Succat had imparted to his ? "I 
 vill go," said he, " and preach the word of God ui Scot- 
 land;"* for the word of God and not an ecclesiastical hier- 
 archism was then the converting agency. The grandson of 
 Fergus communicated the zeal which animated him to the 
 hearts of several fellow-christians. They repaired to the 
 seashore, and cutting down the pliant branches of the 
 osier, constructed a frail bark, which they covered with the 
 skins of beasts. In this rude boat they embarked in the 
 year 565, and after being driven to and fro on the ocean, the 
 little missionary band reached the waters of the Hebrides. 
 Columba landed near the barren rocks of Mull, to the south 
 of the basaltic caverns of Staffa, and fixed his abode in a 
 small island, afterwards known as lona or Icolmkill, " the 
 island of Columba's cell." Some Christian Culdees, driven 
 out by the dissensions of the Picts and Scots, had already 
 found a refuge in the same retired spot. Here the mission- 
 aries erected a chapel, whose walls, it is said, still exist 
 among the stately ruins of a later age.-j- Some authors 
 have placed Columba in the first rank after the apostles. :J: 
 True, we do not find in him the faith of a Paul or a John ; 
 but he lived as in the sight of God ; he mortified the flesh, 
 and slept on the ground with a stone for his pillow. Amid 
 
 * Praedicaturus verbum Dei. Usser. Antiq. p. 359. 
 
 f I visited lona in 1845 with Dr Patrick M'Farlan, and saw these 
 ruins. One portion of the building seems to be of primitive architec- 
 ture. 
 
 J Nulli post apostolos secundus. Notker.
 
 COLUMBA HIS TEACHING. 27 
 
 this solemn scenery, and among customs so rude, the form 
 of the missionary, illumined by a light from heaven, shone 
 with love, and manifested the joy and serenity of his heart. * 
 Although subject to the same passions as ourselves, he 
 wrestled against his weakness, and would not have one 
 moment lost for the glory of God. He prayed and read, 
 he wrote and taught, he preached and redeemed the time. 
 With indefatigable activity he went from house to house, 
 and from kingdom to kingdom. The king of the Picts was 
 converted, as were also many of his people ; precious manu- 
 scripts were conveyed to lona; a school of theology was 
 founded there, in which the word was studied ; and many 
 received through faith the salvation which is in Christ 
 Jesus. Erelong a missionary spirit breathed over this 
 ocean rock, so justly named " the light of the western world." 
 The Judaical sacerdotalism which was beginning to ex- 
 tend in the Christian church found no support in lona. 
 They had forms, but not to them did they look for life. It 
 was the Holy Ghost, Columba maintained, that made a ser- 
 vant of God. When the youth of Caledonia assembled 
 around the elders on these savage shores, or in their humble 
 chapel, these ministers of the Lord would say to them: 
 "The Holy Scriptures are the only rule of faith. {- Throw 
 aside all merit of works, and look for salvation to the grace 
 of God alone, f Beware of a religion which consists of out- 
 ward observances : it is better to keep your heart pure be- 
 fore God than to abstain from meats. One alone is your 
 head, Jesus Christ. Bishops and presbyters are equal ; || 
 they should be the husbands of one wife, and have their 
 children in subjection."^ 
 
 Qui de prosapia regali claruit , x 
 Sed morum gratia magis emicuit. 
 
 Usser. Antiq. p. 360. 
 
 f Prolatis Sanctaj Scripturso testimoniis. Adomn. 1. i. c. 22. 
 J Bishop Munter, Altbritische Kirche. Stud, und Krit. vi. 745. 
 Meliores sunt ergo qui non magno opere jejunant, cor intrinsecua 
 nitidum coram Deo soUicite servantes. Gildas in ejusd. Synod. Ap- 
 pend. 
 
 || In Hibernia episcopi et presbyteri unum sunt. Ekkehardi liber. 
 ATX. Geschichte von S. Gall. i. 267. 
 V Patrcm habui Calpornium diaconum filium quondam Potiti Presby-
 
 28 PKESBYTERY AND EPISCOPACY. 
 
 The sages of lona knew nothing of transubstantiation or 
 of the withdrawal of the cup in the Lord's Supper, or of 
 auricular confession, or of prayers to the dead, or tapers, or 
 incense ; they celebrated Easter on a different day from 
 Rome;* synodal assemblies regulated the affairs of the 
 church, and the papal supremacy was unknown. -J- The sun 
 of the gospel shone upon these wild and distant shores. In 
 after-years, it was the privilege of Great Britain to recover 
 with a purer lustre the same sun and the same gospel. 
 
 lona, governed by a simple elder, J had become a mission- 
 ary college. It has been sometimes called a monastery, but 
 the dwelling of the grandson of Fergus in nowise resembled 
 the popish convents. When its youthful inmates desired 
 to spread the knowledge of Jesus Christ, they thought not 
 of going elsewhere in quest of episcopal ordination. Kneel- 
 ing in the chapel of Icolmkill, they were set apart by the 
 laying on of the hands of the elders: they were called 
 bishops, but remained obedient to the elder or presbyter of 
 lona. They even consecrated other bishops: thus Finan 
 laid hands upon Diuma, bishop of Middlesex. These British 
 Christians attached great importance to the ministry ; but 
 not to one form in preference to another. Presbytery and 
 episcopacy were with them, as with the primitive church, 
 almost identical. Somewhat later we find that neither the 
 venerable Bede, nor Lanfranc, nor Anselm the two last 
 
 teri. Patricii Confessio. Even as late as the twelfth century we meet 
 with married Irish bishops. Bernard, Vita Malachise, cap. x. 
 
 * In die quidem dominica alia tamen quam dicebat hebdomade celebra- 
 bant. Beda, lib. iii. cap. iv. 
 
 t Augustinus novam religionem docet dum ad unius episcopi ro- 
 
 mani dominatum omnia revocat. Buchan. lib. v. cap. xxxvi. 
 
 J Habere autem solet ipsa insula rectorem semper abbatem presby- 
 tcrum cujus juri et omnis provincia et ipsi eliam episcopi, ordine inusi- 
 tato, debeant esse subjecti, juxta exemplum primi doctoris illius qui 
 non episcopus sed presbyter exstitit et monachus. Beda, Hist. Eccl., iii. 
 cap. iv. 
 
 Idem est ergo presbyter qui episcopus, et antequam diaboli instinctu 
 
 studia in religione fierent communi presbyterorum concilio Ecclcsire 
 
 gubernabantur. Indifierenter de episcopo quasi de presbytero est loquu- 
 tus(Paulus) .... sciant episcopi se, magis consuetudine quam dispositionis 
 dominicse veritate, presbyteris esse majores. Hieronymus ad Titum, 
 i.5.
 
 CONTINENTAL MISSIONS. 29 
 
 were archbishops of Canterbury made any objection to the 
 ordinatjpn of British bishops by plain presbyters.* The re- 
 ligious and moral element that belongs to Christianity still 
 predominated; the sacerdotal element, which characterizes 
 human religions, whether among the Brahmins or elsewhere, 
 was beginning to show itself, but. in Great Britain at least 
 it held a very subordinate station. Christianity was still a 
 religion and not a caste. They did not require of the ser- 
 vant of God, as a warrant of his capacity, a long list of 
 names succeeding one another like the beads of a rosary; 
 they entertained serious, noble, and holy ideas of the minis- 
 try; its authority proceeded wholly from Jesus Christ its 
 head. , 
 
 The missionary fire, which the grandson of Fergus had 
 kindled in a solitary island, soon spread over Great Britain. 
 Not in lona alone, but at Bangor and other places, the spirit 
 of evangelization burst out. A fondness for travelling had 
 already become a second nature in this people.-|- Men of 
 God, burning with zeal, resolved to carry the evangelical 
 torch tp the continent to the vast wildernesses sprinkled 
 here and thexe with barbarous and heathen tribes. They 
 did not set forth as antagonists of Rome, for at that epoch 
 there was no place for suqh antagonism; but lona and 
 Bangor, less illustrious than Rome in the history of nations, 
 possessed a more lively faith than the city of the Caesars ; 
 and that faith, unerring sign of the presence of Jesus 
 Christ, gave those whom it inspired a right to evangelize 
 the world, which Rome could not gainsay. 
 
 The missionary bishopsf of Britain accordingly set forth 
 and traversed the Low Countries, Gaul, Switzerland, Ger- 
 many, and even Italy. The free church of the Scots and 
 
 * Bishop Munter makes this remark in his dissertation On tJie An- 
 ciint British Nation, about the primitive identity of bishops and 
 priests, and episcopal consecration. Stud, und Krit. an. 1833. 
 
 f Natio Scotorum quibus consuetude peregrinandi jam paene in 
 oaturam con versa* est. Vita S. Galli, 47. 
 
 \ They were called episcopi rfyionarii because they had no settled 
 dincese. 
 
 Autiquo tempore doctissimi sulebant magistri de Hibernia Brit- 
 anniam. Gallium, Italiam venire, et iiiultos per ecclesiaa Christ! fc 
 OUM profcctus. Aleuin, Epp. ccxxi.
 
 30 COLUMUANUS. 
 
 Britons did more for the conversion of central Europe than 
 the half-enslaved church of the Romans. These missionaries 
 were not haughty and insolent like the priests of Italy ; but 
 supported themselves by the work of their hands. Colum- 
 banus (whom we must not confound with Columba),* 
 " feeling in his heart the burning of the fire which the Lord 
 had kindled upon earth," f quitted Bangor in 590 with 
 twelve other missionaries, and carried the gospel to the 
 Burgundians, Franks, and Swiss. He continued to preach 
 it amidst frequent persecutions, left his disciple Gall in 
 Helvetia, and retired to Bobbio, where he died, honouring 
 Christian Rome, but placing the church of Jerusalem above 
 it, J exhorting it to beware of corruption, and declaring 
 that the power would remain with it so long only as it re- 
 tained the true doctrine (recta ratio}. Thus was Britain 
 faithful in planting the standard of Christ in the heart of 
 Europe. We might almost imagine this unknown people 
 to be a new Israel, and Icolmkill and Bangor to have in- 
 herited the virtues of Zion. 
 
 Yet they should have done more: they should have 
 preached not only to the continental heathens, to those in 
 the north of Scotland and the distant Ireland, but also to 
 the still pagan Saxons of England. It is true that they 
 made several attempts; but while the Britons considered 
 their conquerors as the enemies of God and man, and 
 shuddered while they pronounced their name, the Saxons 
 refused to be converted by the voice of their slaves. By ne- 
 glecting this field, the Britons left room for other workmen, 
 and thus it was that England yielded to a foreign power, be- 
 neath whose heavy yoke it long groaned in vain. 
 
 * Thierry, in his Hist, de la Conquite de I 'Angleterre, makes Columba 
 and Columbanus one personage. Columba preached the Gospel in Scot- 
 land about 560, and died in 597 ; Columbanus preached among the Bur- 
 gundians in 600, and died in 615. 
 
 f Ignitum igne Domini desiderium. Mabillon, Acj;a, p. 9. 
 
 J Salva loci dominicae resurrectionis singulars prcerogativa. Columb. 
 Vita, 10. 
 
 Nefandi nominis Saxoni Deo hominibusque invisi. Gildas, De ex 
 cidio Britannise.
 
 OBEUOKY TUB GREAT. 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Pope Gregory the Great Desires to reduce Britain Policy of Gregory 
 and Augustine Arrival of the Mission Appreciation Britain supe- 
 rior to Rome Dionoth at Bangor First and Second Romish Aggres- 
 sions Anguish of the Britons Pride of Rome Rome has recourse to 
 the Sword Massacre Saint Peter scourges an Archbishop Oswald 
 His Victory Corman Mission of Oswald and Aidan Death of 
 Oswald. 
 
 
 
 IT is matter of fact that the spiritual life had waned in Ita- 
 lian Catholicism; and in proportion as the heavenly spirit 
 had become weak, the lust of dominion had grown strong. 
 The Roman metropolitans and their delegates soon became 
 impatient to mould all Christendom to their peculiar forms. 
 About the end of the sixth century an eminent man filled 
 the see of Rome. Gregory was born of senatorial family, 
 and already on the high road to honour, when he suddenly 
 renounced the world, and transformed the palace of his 
 fathers into a convent. But his ambition had only changed 
 its object. In his views, the whole church should submit 
 to the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of Rome. True, he rejected 
 the title of universal bishop assumed by the patriarch of Con- 
 stantinople ; but if he desired not the name, he was not the 
 less eager for the substance.* On the borders of the West, 
 in the island of Great Britain, was a Christian church inde- 
 pendent of Rome : this must be conquered, and a favourable 
 opportunity soon occurred. 
 
 Before his elevation to the primacy, and while he was as 
 yet only the monk Gregory, he chanced one day to cross a 
 market in Rome where certain foreign dealers were exposing 
 their wares for sale. Among them he perceived some fair- 
 
 * He says (pp. lib. ix. ep. xii.) : De Constantinopolitana eoeleaia 
 quis earn dubitct apostolicaa sedi esse subjectam 1
 
 32 DETERMINES TO SUBDUE BRITAIN. 
 
 haired youthful slaves, whose noble bearing attracted his 
 attention. On drawing near them, he learned that the 
 Anglo-Saxon nation to which they belonged had refused 
 to receive the gospel from the Britons. When he afterwards 
 became bishop of Eome, this crafty and energetic pontiff, 
 " the last of the good and the first of the bad," as he has 
 been called, determined to convert these proud conquerors, 
 and make use of them in subduing the British church to the 
 papacy, as he had already made use of the Frank monarchs 
 to reduce the Gauls. Eome has often shown herself more 
 eager to bring Christians rather than idolaters to the pope.* 
 Was it thus with Gregory ? We must leave the question 
 unanswered. 
 
 Ethelbert, king of Kent, having married a Christian princess 
 of Frank descent, the Eonym bishop thought the conjunc- 
 ture favourable for his design, and despatched a mission un- 
 der the direction of one of his friends named Augustine, A.D. 
 596. At first the missionaries recoiled from the task ap- 
 pointed them ; but Gregory was firm. Desirous of gaining 
 the assistance of the Frank kings, Theodoric and Theode- 
 bert, he affected to consider them as the lords paramount of 
 England, and commended to them the conversion of their 
 subjects.-^ Nor was this all. He claimed also the support 
 of the powerful Brunehilda, grandmother of these two kings, 
 and equally notorious for her treachery, her irregularities r 
 and her crimes ; and did not scruple to extol the good works 
 and godly fear of this modern Jezebel.J Under such aus- 
 pices the Eomish mission arrived in England. The pope 
 had made a skilful choice of his delegate. Augustine pos- 
 sessed even to a greater extent than Gregory himself a mix- 
 ture of ambition and devotedness, of superstition and piety, 
 of cunning and zeal. He thought that faith and holiness 
 were less essential to the church than authority and power ; 
 and that its prerogative was 'not so much to save souls as 
 
 * We know the history of Tahiti and of other modern missions of the 
 Romish church. 
 
 f- Subjectos vestros. Opp. Gregorii, torn. iv. p. 334. 
 
 $. Prona in bonis operibua... in omnipotentis Dei timore. Ibid. 
 
 torn. ii. p. 835.
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE MISSION. 33 
 
 (.0 collect all the human race under the sceptre of Rome.* 
 Gregory himself was distressed at Augustine's spiritual pride, 
 and often exhorted him to humility. 
 
 Success of that kind which popery desires soon crowned 
 the labours of its servants. The forty-one missionaries hav- 
 ing landed in the isle of Thanet, in the year 597, the king 
 of Kent consented to receive them, but in the open air, for 
 fear of magic. They drew up in such a manner as to pro- 
 duce an effect on the rude islanders. The procession was 
 opened by a monk bearing a huge cross on which the figure 
 of Christ was represented : his colleagues followed chanting 
 their Latin hymns, and thus they approached the oak ap- 
 pointed for the place of conference. They inspired sufficient 
 confidence in Ethelbert to gain permission to celebrate their 
 worship in an old ruinous chapel at Durovern (Canterbury), 
 where British Christians had in former times adored the 
 Saviour Christ. The king and thousands of his subjects 
 received not long after, with certain forms, and certain 
 Christian doctrines, the errors of the Roman pontiffs as 
 purgatory, for instance, which Gregory was advocating with 
 the aid of the most absurd fables.t Augustine baptized ten 
 thousand pagans in one day. As yet Rome had only set 
 her foot in Great Britain; she did not fail erelong to establish 
 her kingdom there. 
 
 We should be unwilling to undervalue the religious ele- 
 ment now placed before the Anglo-Saxons, and we can 
 readily believe that many of the missionaries sent from 
 Italy desired to work a Christian work. We think, too, 
 that the Middle Ages ought to be appreciated with more 
 equitable sentiments than have always been found in the 
 persons who have written on that period. Man's conscience 
 lived, spoke, and groaned during the long dominion of 
 popery; and like a plant growing among thorns, it often 
 succeeded in forcing a passage through the obstacles of 
 traditionalism and hierarchy, to blossom in the quickening 
 sun of God's grace. The Christian element is even strongly 
 
 * We find the same idea in Wiseman, Lect. ix., On the principal doo 
 trines and practices of the Catholic Church. Loud. 1836. 
 t Hoepfner, De origine dogmatis do purgatorio. Halle, 1792. 
 
 B2
 
 34 BRITAIN SUPERIOR TO ROME. 
 
 marked in some of the most eminent men of the theocracy 
 in Anselm for instance. 
 
 Yet as it is our task to relate the history of the struggles 
 which took place between primitive Christianity and Ro- 
 man-catholicism, we cannot forbear pointing out the supe- 
 riority of the former in a religious light, while we acknow- 
 ledge the superiority of the latter in a political point of 
 view. We believe (and we shall presently have a proof of 
 it)* that a visit to lona would have taught the Anglo- 
 Saxons much more than their frequent pilgrimages to the 
 banks of the Tiber. Doubtless, as has been remarked, these 
 pilgrims contemplated at Rome " the noble monuments of 
 antiquity," but there existed at that time in the British 
 islands and it has been too often overlooked a Chris- 
 tianity which, if not perfectly pure, was at least better than 
 that of popery. The British church, which at the beginning 
 of the seventh century carried faith and civilization into 
 Burgundy, the Vosges mountains, and Switzerland, might 
 well have spread them both over Britain. The influence of 
 the arts, whose civilizing influence we are far from depre- 
 ciating, would have come later. 
 
 But so far was the Christianity of the Britons from con- 
 verting the Saxon heptarchy, that it was, alas! the Ro- 
 manism of the heptarchy which was destined to conquer 
 Britain. These struggles between the Roman and British 
 churches, which fill all the seventh century, are of the 
 highest importance to the English church, for they establish 
 clearly its primitive liberty. They possess also great in- 
 terest for the other churches of the West, as showing in the 
 most striking characters the usurping acts by which the 
 papacy eventually reduced them beneath its yoke. 
 
 Augustine, appointed archbishop not only of the Saxons, 
 but of the free Britons, was settled by papal ordinance, first 
 at London and afterwards at Canterbury. Being at the 
 head of a hierarchy composed of twelve bishops, he soon 
 attempted to bring all the Christians of Britain under the 
 Roman jurisdiction. At that time there existed at Bangor,-f- 
 
 * In the history of Oswald, king of Northumberland. 
 
 t Bann-cor, the choir on tho steep hill. Carlisle, Top. Diet. Wales.
 
 DIONOTH AT BANGOR. 35 
 
 in North Wales, a large Christian society, amounting to 
 nearly three thousand individuals, collected together to work 
 with their own hands,* to study, and to pray, and from whose 
 bosom numerous missionaries (Columbanus was among the 
 number) had from time to time gone forth. The president of 
 this church was Dionoth, a faithful teacher, ready to serve 
 all men in charity, yet firmly convinced that no one should 
 have supremacy in the Lord's vineyard. Although one of 
 the most influential men in the British church, he was 
 somewhat timid and hesitating ; he would yield to a certain 
 point for the love of peace ; but would never flinch from his 
 duty. He was another apostle John, full of mildness, and 
 yet condemning the Diotrephes, who love to have pre-emin- 
 ence among the brethren. Augustine thus addressed him : 
 " Acknowledge the authority of the Bishop of Rome." These 
 are the first words of the papacy to the ancient Christians of 
 Britain. " We desire to love all men," meekly replied the 
 venerable Briton : " and what we do for you, we will do for 
 him also whom you call the pope. But he is not entitled to 
 call himself the father of fathers, and the only submission 
 we can render him is that which we owe to every Chris- 
 tian.''-!- This was not what Augustine asked. 
 
 He was not discouraged by this first check. Proud of the 
 pallium which Rome had sent him, and relying on the swords 
 of the Anglo-Saxons, he convoked in 601 a general assem- 
 bly of British and Saxon bishops. The meeting took place 
 in the open air, beneath a venerable oak, near Wigornia 
 (Worcester or Hereford), and here occurred the second 
 Romish aggression. Dionoth resisted with firmness the 
 extravagant pretensions of Augustine, who again summoned 
 him to recognise the authority of Rome.J Another Briton 
 protested against the presumption of the Romans, who as- 
 cribed to their consecration a virtue which they refused to 
 
 * Are unicuiquc dabatur, ut ex opere manuum quotidiano se posset in 
 victu necessario contiuere. Preuves do I'hist. do Bretagne, ii. 25. 
 
 f Istam obedientiam DOS sumus parati dare et solvere ei et cuique 
 Christiana continue. Wilkins, Cone. M. Brit. i. 26. 
 
 Dionothus de non approbaud* apud eos Romanorum auctoritate dis- 
 putabat. I bid. 24.
 
 36 DISTRESS OP THE BRITONS. 
 
 that of lona or of the Asiatic churches. * The Britons, 
 exclaimed a third, " cannot submit either to the haughtiness 
 of the Romans or the tyranny of the Saxons." f To no pur- 
 pose did the archbishop lavish his arguments, prayers, cen- 
 sures, and miracles even ; the Britons were firm. Some of 
 them who had eaten with the Saxons while they were as 
 yet heathens, refused to do so now that they had submitted 
 to the pope. :{: The Scotch were particularly inflexible ; for 
 one of their number, by name Dagam, would not only take 
 no food at the same table with the Romans, but not even 
 under the same roof. Thus did Augustine fail a second 
 time, and the independence of Britain appeared secure. 
 
 And yet the formidable power of the popes, aided by the 
 sword of the conquerors, alarmed the Britons. They imag- 
 ined they saw a mysterious decree once more yoking the 
 nations of the earth to the triumphal car of Rome, and many 
 left Wigornia uneasy and sad at heart. How is it possible 
 to save a cause, when even its defenders begin to despair ? 
 It was not long before they were summoned to a n*ew coun- 
 cil. " What is to be done ?" they exclaimed with sorrowful 
 forebodings. Popery was not yet thoroughly known : it was 
 hardly formed. The half-enlightened consciences of these 
 believers were a prey to the most violent agitation. They 
 asked themselves whether, in rejecting this new power, the} 
 might not be rejecting God himself. A pious Christian, who 
 led a solitary life, had acquired a great reputation in the 
 surrounding district. Some of the Britons visited him, and 
 inquired whether they should resist Augustine or follow him. || 
 " If he is a man of God, follow him," replied the hermit. 
 " And how shall we know that ?" " If he is meek and hum- 
 
 * Ordinationesque more asiatico eisdem contulisse. Wilkins, Cone. 
 M. Brit. 24. 
 
 f In communionem admittere vel Romanorum fastuin vel Saxonum 
 tyrannidem. Ibid. 26. 
 
 t According to the apostolic precept, 1 Cor. v. 9-11. 
 
 Dagamus ad nos veniens, non solum cibum irobiscum, sed nee in eodem 
 hospitio quo vescebamur, sumere noluit. Beda, lib. ii. cap. iv. 
 
 || Ad quendam virum sanctum et prudentem qui apud eos anachoreti- 
 cam ducere vitam solebat, consulentes an ad prsedicationem Augustinisuas 
 doserere traditiones deberent. Beda, Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. cap. ii.
 
 PRIDE OF ROMS. '61 
 
 ble of heart, he bears Christ's yoke ; but if he is violent and 
 proud, he is not 'of God." " What sign shall we have of his 
 humility ?" " If he rises from his sent when you enter the 
 room." Thus spoke the oracle of Britain : it would have 
 been better to have consulted the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 But humility is not a virtue that flourishes among Romish 
 pontiffs and legates : they love to remain seated while others 
 court and worship them. The British bishops entered the 
 council-hall, and the archbishop, desirous of indicating his 
 superiority, proudly kept his seat.* Astonished at this sight, 
 the Britons would hear no more of the authority of Rome. 
 For the third time they said No they knew no other master 
 but Christ. Augustine, who expected to see these bishops 
 prostrate their churches at his feet, was surprised and indig- 
 nant. He had reckoned on the immediate submission of 
 Britain, and the pope had now to learn that his missionary' 
 
 had deceived him Animated by that insolent spirit 
 
 which is found too often in the ministers of the Romish 
 church, Augustine exclaimed : "" If you will not receive 
 brethren who bring you peace, you shall receive enemies who 
 will bring you war. If you will not unite with us in show- 
 ing the Saxons the way of life, you shall receive from them 
 the stroke of death."-f- Having thus spoken, the haughty 
 archbishop withdrew, and occupied his last days in preparing 
 the accomplishment of his ill-omened prophecy4 Argu- 
 ment had failed : now for the sword ! 
 
 Shortly after the death of Augustine, Edelfrid, one of the 
 Anglo-Saxon kings, and who was still a heathen, collected a 
 numerous army, and advanced towards Bangor, the centre 
 of British Christianity. Alarm spread through those feeble 
 churches. They wept and prayed. The sword of Edelfrid 
 drew nearer. To whom can they apply, or where shall they 
 
 * Factumquo est ut venicntibus illis sederet Augustinus in sella. 
 Beda, Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. cap. ii. 
 
 t Si pacem cum fructibus accipcre nollent, bcllum ab hostibus forent 
 accepturi Ibid. 
 
 J Ipsum Augustinnm hujus belli non modo consciam sed et impulsoren 
 exstitisse. Wilkins adds, that the expression found in Bede, concerning 
 the death of Augustine, is a parenthesis foisted in by Romanist writers, 
 and not found in tho Saxon manuscripts. Cone. Brit. p. 26.
 
 38 ROME HAS RECOURSE TO THE SWORD. 
 
 find help ? The magnitude of the danger seemed to reca.,'1 
 the Britons to their pristine piety : not to men, but to the 
 Lord himself will they turn their thoughts. Twelve hun- 
 dred and fifty servants of the living God, calling to mind 
 what are the arms of Christian warfare, after preparing them- 
 selves by fasting, met together in a retired spot to send up 
 their prayers to God.* A British chief, named Brocmail, 
 moved by tender compassion, stationed himself near them 
 with a few soldiers ; but the cruel Edelfrid, observing from 
 a distance this band of kneeling Christians, demanded: 
 "Who are these people, and what are they doing?" On 
 being informed, he added : " They are fighting then against 
 us, although unarmed ;" and immediately he, ordered his 
 soldiers to fall upon the prostrate crowd. Twelve hundred 
 of them were slain.-j* They prayed and they died. The 
 Saxons forthwith proceeded to Bangor, the chief seat of 
 Christian learning, and razed it to the ground. Romanism 
 was triumphant in England. The news of these massacres 
 filled the country with weeping and great mourning ; but 
 the priests of Romish consecration (and the venerable Bede 
 shared their sentiments) beheld in this cruel slaughter the 
 accomplishment of the prophecy of the holy pontiff Augus- 
 tine ; \ and a national tradition among the Welsh for many 
 ages pointed to him as the instigator of this cowardly but- 
 chery. Thus did Rome loose the savage pagan against the 
 primitive church of Britain, and fastened it all dripping with 
 blood to her triumphal car. A great mystery of iniquity was 
 accomplishing. 
 
 But while the Saxon sword appeared to have swept every- 
 thing from before the papacy, the ground trembled under its 
 feet, and seemed about to swallow it up. The hierarchical 
 rather than Christian conversions effected by the priests of 
 Rome were so unreal that a vast number of neophytes sud- 
 denly returned to the worship of their idols. Eadbald, king 
 
 * Ad memoratam aciem, peracto jejunio triduano, cum aliis orandi 
 causa convenerant. Beda, lib. ii.' cap. ii. 
 
 f* Extinctos in ea pugna ferunt de his qui ad orandum venerunt Tiros 
 circiter mille ducentos. Ibid. 
 
 t Sic completum est presajiium s;:ncti poEtificis Augustini. Ibid.
 
 SAINT PETER SCOURGES AN ARCHBISIIOP. 39 
 
 of Kent, was himself among the number of apostates. Such 
 reversions to paganism are not unfrequent in the history of 
 the Romish missions. The bishops fled into Gaul : Melli- 
 tus and Justus had already reached the continent in safety, 
 and Lawrence, Augustine's successor, was about to follow 
 them. While lying in the church, where he had desired to 
 pass the night before leaving England, he groaned in spirit 
 as he saw the work founded by Augustine perishing in his 
 hands. He saved it by a miracle. The next morning he 
 presented himself before the king with his clothes all disor- 
 dered and his body covered with wounds. " Saint Peter," 
 he said, " appeared to me during the night and scourged me 
 severely because I was about to forsake his flock." * The 
 scourge was a means of moral persuasion which Peter had 
 forgotten in his epistles. Did Lawrence cause these blows 
 to be inflicted by others or did he inflict them himself or 
 is the whole account an idle dream? "We should prefer 
 adopting the latter hypothesis. The superstitious prince, 
 excited at the news of this supernatural intervention, eagerly 
 acknowledged the authority of the pope, the vicar of an 
 apostle who so mercilessly scourged those who had the mis- 
 fortune to displease him. If the dominion of Rome had then 
 disappeared from England, it is probable that the Britons, 
 regaining their courage, and favoured in other respects by 
 the wants which would have been felt by the Saxons, would 
 have recovered from their defeat, and would have imparted 
 their free Christianity to their conquerors. But now the 
 Roman bishop seemed to remain master of England, and the 
 faith of the Britons to be crushed for ever. But it was not 
 so. A young man, sprung from the energetic race of the 
 conquerors, was about to become the champion of truth and 
 liberty, and almost the whole island to be freed from the 
 Roman yoke. 
 
 Oswald, an Anglo-Saxon prince, son of the heathen and 
 cruel Edelfrid, had been compelled by family reverses to take 
 refuge in Scotland, when very young, accompanied by his 
 brother Oswy and several other youthful chiefs. He had 
 
 * Apparuit ei beatissimus apostolorum princeps, ct multo ilium tern* 
 poro sccrcta) noctis flagellis acrioribus afficiens. Beda, lib. ii. cap. ri.
 
 40 OSWALD'S VICTORY. 
 
 acquired the language of the country, been instructed in 
 the truths of Holy Writ, converted by the grace of God, and 
 baptized into the Scottish church.* He loved to sit at the 
 feet of the elders of lona and listen to their words. They 
 showed him Jesus Christ going from place to place doing 
 good, and he desired to do so likewise ; they told him that 
 Christ was the only head of the church, and he promised 
 never to acknowledge any other. Being a single-hearted 
 generous man, he was especially animated with tender com- 
 passion towards the poor, and would take off his own cloak 
 to cover the nakedness of one of his brethren. Often, while 
 mingling in the quiet assemblies of the Scottish Christians, 
 he had desired to go as a missionary to the Anglo-Saxons. 
 It was not long before he conceived the bold design of lead- 
 ing the people of Northumberland to the Saviour ; but being 
 a prince as well as a Christian, he determined to begin by 
 reconquering the throne of his fathers. There was in this 
 young Englishman the love of a disciple and the courage of 
 a hero. At the head of an army, small indeed, but strong 
 by faith in Christ,-}- he entered Northumberland, knelt with 
 his troops in prayer on the field of battle, and gained a 
 signal victory over a powerful enemy, 634 A.D. 
 
 To recover the kingdom of his ancestors was only a part 
 v/f his task. Oswald desired to give his people the benefits 
 of the true faith.J The Christianity taught in 625 to King 
 Edwin and the Northumbrians by Pendin of York had dis- 
 appeared amidst the ravages of the pagan armies. Oswald 
 requested a missionary from the Scots who had given him 
 an asylum, and they accordingly sent one of the brethren 
 named Gorman, a pious but uncultivated and austere man. 
 He soon returned dispirited to lona : " The people to whom 
 you sent me," he told the elders of that island, "are so 
 obstinate that we must renounce all idea of changing their 
 manners." As Aidan, one of their number, listened to this 
 
 * Cum magna nobilium juventute apud Scotos sive Pictos exulabant, 
 ibique ad doctrinam Scottorum cathechisati et baptismatis gratia sunt re- 
 creati. Beda, lib. iii. cap. i. 
 
 r Superveniente cum parvo exercitu, sed fide Christ! munito. Ibid. 
 
 $ Desiderans totam cui prseesse ccepit gentem fidei Christianae gratia 
 tnibui. Ibid. cap. iii.
 
 MISSIONS OF AIDAN AND OSWALD. 41 
 
 report, he said to himself: "If thy love had been offered to 
 this people, oh, my Saviour, many hearts would have been 
 
 touched! I will go and make Thee known Thee who 
 
 breaketh not the bruised reed!" Then, turning to the mis- 
 sionary with a look of mild reproach, he added : " Brother, 
 you have been too severe towards hearers so dull of heart. 
 You should have given them spiritual milk to drink until 
 they were able to receive more solid food." All eyes were 
 fixed on the man who spoke so wisely. " Aidan is worthy 
 of the episcopate," exclaimed the brethren of lona ; and, like 
 Timothy, he was consecrated by the laying on of the hands 
 of the company of elders.* 
 
 Oswald received Aidan as an angel from heaven, and as 
 the missionary was ignorant of the Saxon language, the 
 king accompanied him everywhere, standing by his side, and 
 interpreting his gentle discourses.-f- The people crowded 
 joyfully around Oswald, Aidan, and other missionaries from 
 Scotland and Ireland, listening eagerly to the Word of God.\ 
 The king preached by his works still more than by his 
 words. One day during Easter, as he was about to take 
 his seat at table, he was informed that a crowd of his 
 subjects, driven by hunger, had collected before his palace 
 gates. Instantly he ordered the food prepared for himself 
 to be carried out and distributed among them, and taking 
 the silver vessels which stood before him, he broke them in 
 pieces and commanded his servants to divide them among 
 the poor. He also introduced the knowledge of the Saviour 
 to the people of Wessex, whither he had gone to marry the 
 king's daughter ; and after a reign of nine years, he died at 
 the head of his army while repelling an invasion of the 
 idolatrous Mercians, headed by the cruel Penda (5th August 
 642 A.D.) As he fell he exclaimed : " Lord, have mercy on 
 
 * Aydanfis accepto gradu episcopatus, qno tempore eodem monasterio 
 Segenius abbas et presiyter praefuit. Beda, lib. iii. cap.v. When Bcde tells 
 us that a plain priest was president, he excludes the idea that there were 
 bishops in the assembly. See 1 Timothy iv. 14. 
 
 f- Evangelisante antistite, ipse Rex suis ducibus ac ministris interpres 
 verbi existeret coelestis. Beda, lib. iii. cap. iii. 
 
 J C'onflucbairt ad audiendum verbum Dei populi gaudentes. Ibid. 
 YOU T. 8
 
 42 * DEATH OF OSWALD. 
 
 the souls of my people!" This youthful prince has left a 
 name dear to the churches of Great Britain. 
 
 His death did not interrupt the labours of the mission- 
 aries. Their meekness and the recollection of Oswald en- 
 deared them to all. As soon as the villagers caught sight 
 of one on the high-road, they would throng round him, 
 begging him to teach them the Word of life* The faith 
 which the terrible Edelfrid thought he had washed away 
 in the blood of the worshippers of God, was re-appearing in 
 every direction ; and Rome, which once already in the days 
 of Honorius had been forced to leave Britain, might be per- 
 haps a second time compelled to flee to its ships from be- 
 fore the face of a people who asserted their liberty. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Character of Oswy Death of Aidan Wilfrid at Rome At Oswald's 
 Court Finan and Colman Independence of the Church attacked 
 Oswy's Conquests and Troubles Synodus Pharensis Cedda Dege- 
 neration The Disputation Peter, the Gatekeeper Triumph of Rome 
 Grief of the Britons Popedom organized in England Papal Exul- 
 tationArchbishop Theodore Cedda re-ordained Discord in the 
 Church Disgrace and Treachery of Wilfrid His End Scotland 
 attacked Adamnan Tona resists A King converted by Architects 
 The Monk Egbert at lona His History Monkish Visions Fall 
 of lona. 
 
 THEN uprose the papacy. If victory remained with the 
 Britons, their church, becoming entirely free, might even in 
 these early times head a strong opposition against the papal 
 monarchy. If, on the contrary, the last champions of liberty 
 are defeated, centuries of slavery awaited the Christian 
 church. We shall have to witness the struggle that took 
 place erelong in the very palace of the Northumbrian kings. 
 Oswald was succeeded by his brother Oswy, a prince in- 
 structed in the free doctrine of the Britons, but whose religion 
 
 * Mox congregati in unum yicani, verbum vita ab illo expetere cura- 
 bftnt. Beda, no. ill. cap. xxvi
 
 CHAEACTER OF O8WY. 43 
 
 was all external. His heart overflowed with ambition, and 
 he shrank from no crime that might increase his power. The 
 throne of Deira was filled by his relative Oswin, an amiable 
 king, much beloved by his people. Oswy, conceiving a 
 deadly jealousy towards him, marched against him at the 
 head of an army, and Oswin, desirous of avoiding bloodshed, 
 took shelter with a chief whom he had loaded with favours. 
 But the latter offered to lead Oswy's soldiers to his hiding- 
 place ; and at dead of night the fugitive king was basely 
 assassinated, one only of his servants fighting in his defence. 
 The gentle Aidan died of sorrow at his cruel fate.* Such 
 was the first exploit of that monarch who surrendered Eng- 
 land to the papacy. Various circumstances tended to draw 
 Oswy nearer Rome. He looked upon the Christian religion 
 as a means of combining the Christian princes against the 
 heathen Penda, and such a religion, in which expediency 
 predominated, was not very unlike popery. And further, 
 Oswy's wife, the proud Eanfeld, was of the Romish com- 
 munion. The private Chaplain of this bigoted princess was 
 a priest named Romanus, a man worthy of the name. He 
 zealously maintained the rites of the Latin church, and ac- 
 cordingly the festival of Easter was celebrated at court twice 
 in the year ; for while the king, following the eastern rule, 
 was joyfully commemorating the resurrection of our Lord, 
 the queen, who adopted the Roman ritual, was keeping 
 Palm Sunday with fasting and humiliation.-}- Eanfeld and 
 Romanus would often converse together on the means of 
 winning over Northumberland to the papacy. But the first 
 stop was to increase the number of its partisans, and th 
 opportunity soon occurred. 
 
 A young Northumbrian, named Wilfrid, w.as one day ad 
 initted to an audience of the queen. He was a comely mar 
 of extensive knowledge, keen wit, and enterprising charactei 
 of indefatigable activity, and insatiable ambition. J In thi- 
 
 * Aydanus duodecimo post occisioncm regis quern amabat die, de seculi 
 ablatus. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xiv. 
 
 t Cum rex pascha dominicum solutis jcjuniis faceret, tune regina cum 
 Buis persistens adhuc in jejunio diem Palmarum celebraret. Ibid. cap. xz* 
 
 $ Acris erat ingenii gratia vennsti rultus, alacritate actionis. Beda, 
 
 lib. T. p. 135.
 
 44 WILFRID AT ROME, 
 
 interview he remarked to Eanfeld : " The way which the 
 Scotch teach us is not perfect ; I will go to Rome and learn 
 in the very temples of the apostles." She approved of his 
 project, and with her assistance and directions he set out for 
 Italv. Alas ! he was destined at no very distant day to 
 chain the whole British church to the Roman see. After a 
 short stay tit Lyons, where the bishop, delighted at his talents, 
 would have desired to keep him, he arrived at Rome, and 
 immediately became on the most friendly footing with Arch- 
 deacon Boniface, the pope's favourite councillor. He soon 
 discovered that the priests of France and Italy possessed 
 more power both in ecclesiastical and secular matters than 
 the humble missionaries of lona ; and his thirst for honours 
 was inflamed at the court of the pontiffs. If he should suc- 
 ceed in making England submit to the papacy, there was no 
 dignity to which he might not aspire. Henceforward this 
 was his only thought, and he had hardly returned to North- 
 umberland before Eanfeld eagerly summoned him to court. 
 A fanatical queen, from whom he might hope everything 
 a king with no religious convictions, and enslaved by political 
 interests a pious and zealous prince, Alfred, the king's son, 
 who was desirous of imitating his noble uncle Oswald, and 
 converting the pagans, but who had neither the discernment 
 nor the piety of the illustrious disciple of lona : such were 
 the materials Wilfrid had to work upon. He saw clearly 
 that if Rome had gained her first victory by the sword of 
 Edelfrid, she could only expect to gain a second by craft and 
 management. He came to an understanding on the subject 
 with the queen and Romanus, and having been placed about 
 the person of the young prince, by adroit flattery he soon 
 gained over Alfred's mind. Then finding himself secure of 
 two members of the royal family, lie turned all his attention 
 to Oswy. 
 
 The elders of lona could not shut their eyes to the dan- 
 gers which threatened Northumberland. They had sent 
 Finan to supply Aidan's place, and this bishop, consecrated 
 by the presbyters of lona, had witnessed the progress of 
 popery at the court ; at first humble and inoffensive, and 
 then increasing year by year in ambition and audacity. He
 
 AND AT OSWY'S COUKT. 45 
 
 had openly opposed the pontiff's agents, and his frequent 
 contests had confirmed him in the truth.* He was dead, 
 and the presbyters of the Western Isles, seeing more clearly 
 than ever the wants of Northumbria, had sent thither Bishop 
 Colman, a simple-minded but stout-hearted man, one de- 
 termined to oppose a front of adamant to the wiles of the 
 seducers. 
 
 Yet'Eanfeld, Wilfrid, and Romanus were skilfully dig- 
 ging the mine that was to destroy the apostolic church of 
 Britain. At first Wilfrid prepared his attack by adroit in- 
 sinuations ; and next declared himself openly in the king's 
 presence. If Oswy withdrew into his domestic circle, he 
 there found the bigoted Eanfeld, who zealously continued 
 the work of the Roman missionary. No opportunities were 
 neglected : in the midst of the diversions of the court, at 
 table, and even during the chase, discussions were perpet- 
 ually raised on the controverted doctrines. Men's minds 
 became excited : the Romanists already assumed the air of 
 conquerors ; and the Britons often withdrew full of anxiety 
 and fear. The king, placed between his wife .and his faith, 
 and wearied by these disputes, inclined 'first to one side, and 
 then to the other, as if he would soon fall altogether. 
 
 The papacy had more powerful motives than ever for 
 coveting Northumberland. Oswy had not only usurped the 
 throne of Deira, but after the death of the cruel Penda, who 
 fell in battle in 654, he had conquered his states with the 
 exception of a portion governed by his son-in-law Peada, 
 the son of Penda. But Peada himself having fallen in 
 a conspiracy said to have been got up by his wife, the 
 daughter of Oswy, the latter completed the conquest of 
 Mercia, and thus united the greatest part of England under 
 his sceptre. Kent alone at that time acknowledged the 
 jurisdiction of Rome: in every other province, free ministers, 
 protected by the kings of Northumberland, preached the 
 gospel. This wonderfully simplified the question. If Rome 
 gained over ^swy, she would gain England : if she failed, 
 she must sooner or later leave that island altogether. 
 
 * Apertum vcritatis adversarium reddidit, says the Romanist Bede, 
 lib. r. p. 135.
 
 46 CONQUESTS AND TROUBLES OP OSWY. 
 
 This was not all. The blood of Oswyn, the premature 
 death of Aidan, and other things besides, troubled the king's 
 breast. He desired to appease the Deity he had offended, 
 and not knowing that Christ is the door, as Holy Scripture 
 tells us, h,e sought among men for a doorkeeper who would 
 open to him the kingdom of heaven. He was far from be- 
 ing the last of those kings whom the necessity of expiat- 
 ing their crimes impelled towards Romish practices. The 
 crafty Wilfrid, keeping alive both the hopes and fears of the 
 prince, often spoke to him of Rome, and of the grace to be 
 found there. He thought that the fruit was ripe, and that 
 now he had only to shake the tree. " "We must have a 
 public disputation, in which the question may be settled 
 once for all," said the queen and her advisers ; " but Rome 
 must take her part in it with as much pomp as her adver- 
 saries. Let us oppose bishop to bishop." A Saxon bishop 
 named Agilbert, a friend of Wilfrid's, who had won the affec- 
 tion of the young prince Alfred, was invited by Eanfeld to the 
 conference, and he arrived in Northumberland attended by a 
 priest named Agathon. Alas ! poor British church, the 
 earthen vessel is about to be dashed against the vase of iron. 
 Britain must yield before the invading march of Rome. 
 
 On the coast of Yorkshire, at the farther extremity of a 
 quiet bay, was situated the monastery of Strenseshalh, or 
 Whitby, of which Hilda, the pious daughter of King Edwin, 
 was abbess. She, too, was desirous of seeing a termination 
 of the violent disputes which had agitated the church since 
 Wilfrid's return. On the shores of the North Sea* the strug- 
 gle was to be decided between Britain and Rome, between 
 the East and the West, or, as they said then, between Saint 
 John and Saint Peter. It was not a mere question about 
 Easter, or certain rules of discipline, but of the great doc- 
 trine of the freedom of the church under Jesus Christ, or its 
 enslavement under the papacy. Rome, ever domineering, 
 desired for the second time to hold England in its grasp, not 
 
 * This conference is generally known as the Synodus Pharensis (from 
 Strenceshalh, sinus Phari). " Hodie Whitbie dicitur (White cay), et 
 ost villa ia Eboracensi littore satis nota." Wilkins, Concil. p. 37, note.
 
 
 SYNODUS PHAEENSIS CEDDA. 47 
 
 by moans of the sword, but by her dogmas. With her usual 
 cunning she concealed her enormous pretensions under se- 
 condary questions, and many superficial thinkers were de- 
 ceived by this manoeuvre. 
 
 The meeting took place in the convent of Whitby. The 
 king and his son entered first ; then, on the one side, Column, 
 with the bishops and elders of the Britons ; and on the other 
 Bishop Agilbert, Agathon, Wilfrid, Romanus, a deacon 
 named James, and several other priests of the Latin confes- 
 sion. Last of all came Hilda with her attendants, among 
 whom was an English bishop named Cedda, one of the most 
 active missionaries of the age.* He had at first preached 
 the Gospel in the midland districts, whence he turned his 
 footsteps towards the Anglo-Saxons of the East, and after 
 converting a great number of these pagans, he had returned 
 to Finan, and, although an Englishman, had received Epis- 
 copal consecration from a bishop who had been himself 
 ordained by the elders of lona. Then proceeding westwards, 
 the indefatigable evangelist founded churches, and appointed 
 elders and deacons wherever he went.-J- By birth an Eng- 
 lishman, by ordination a Scotchman, everywhere treated with 
 respect and consideration, he appeared to be set apart as me- 
 diator in this solemn conference. His intervention could not 
 however, retard the victory of Rome. Alas ! the primitive 
 evangelism had gradually given way to an ecclesiasticism, 
 coarse and rude in one place, subtle and insinuating in 
 another. Whenever the priests were called upon to justify 
 certain doctrines or ceremonies, instead of referring solely to 
 the word of God, that fountain of all light, they maintained 
 that thus St James did at Jerusalem, St Mark at Alexan- 
 dria, St John at Ephesus, or St Peter at Rome. They gave 
 the name of apostolical canons to rules which the apostles 
 had never known. They even went further than this : at 
 Rome and in the East, ecclesiasticism represented itself to be 
 
 " Presby ten Cedda et Adda et Berti et Duina, quorum ultimus natione 
 Scota, cacteri fuere Angli. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xxi. 
 
 f Qui accepto gradu episcopatus et majore auctoritate coeptum opus 
 explens, fecit per loca ecclesias, presbyteros et diaconos ordinavit. Beda, 
 lib. iii. cap. sxii.
 
 48 THE DISPUTATION, 
 
 a law of God, and from a state of weakness, it thus became 
 a state of sin. Some marks of this error were already be- 
 ginning to appear in the Christianity of the Britons. 
 
 King Oswy was the first to speak : " As servants of one 
 and the same God, we hope all to enjoy the same inheritance 
 in heaven ; why then should we not have the same rule of 
 life here below ? Let us inquire which is the true one, and 
 
 folloAV it." " Those who sent me hither as bishop," said 
 
 Colman, " and who gave me the rule which I observe, are 
 the beloved of God. Let us bewaro how we despise their 
 teaching, for it is the teaching of Columba, of the blessed 
 evangelist John,* and of the churches over which that apostle 
 presided." 
 
 " As for us," boldly rejoined Wilfrid, for to. him as to the 
 most skilful had bishop Agilbert intrusted the defence of 
 their cause, " our custom is that of Rome, where the holy 
 apostles Peter and Paul taught ; we found it in Italy and 
 Gaul, nay, it is spread over every nation. Shall the Picts 
 and Britons, cast on these two islands, on the very confines 
 of the ocean, dare to contend against the whole world ? 7 
 However holy your Columba may have been, will you prefer 
 him to the prince of the apostles, to whom Christ said, Thou 
 art Peter, and I will give unto thee the keys of tJie kingdom of 
 heaven ? " 
 
 Wilfrid spoke with animation, and his words being skil- 
 fully adapted to his audience, began to make them waver. 
 He had artfully substituted Columba for the apostle John, 
 from whom the British church claimed descent, and op- 
 posed to St Peter a plain elder of lona. Oswy, whose idol 
 was power, could not hesitate between paltry bishops and 
 that pope of Rome who commanded the whole world. Al- 
 ready imagining he saw Peter at the gates of paradise, with 
 the keys in his hand, he exclaimed with emotion: "Is it 
 true, Colman, that these words were addressed by our Lord 
 to Saint Peter?" " It is true." " Can you prove that simi- 
 
 * Ipsum est quod beatus evangelista Johannes, discipulus specialito? 
 Domino dilectus. Bcda, lib. iii. cap. xxv. 
 
 t Pictos dico ac Brittones, cum quibus de duabus ultimis oceani insulis 
 contra totum orbem stulto laborc pugnant. Ibid.
 
 TRIUMPH OF ROME. -19 
 
 lar powers were given to your Coluraba?" The bishop re- 
 plied, " We cannot ;" but he might have told the king : 
 " John, whose doctrine we follow, and indeed every disciple, 
 has received in the same sense as St Peter the power to re- 
 mit sins, to bind and to loose on earth and in heaven."* But 
 the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures was fading away in 
 lona, and the unsuspecting Colman had not observed Wil- 
 frid's stratagem in substituting Columba for Saint John. 
 Upon this Oswy, delighted to yield to the continual solicita- 
 tions of the queen, and, above all, to find some one who 
 would admit him into the kingdom of heaven, exclaimed, 
 " Peter is the doorkeeper, I will obey him, lest when I ap- 
 pear at the gate there should be no one to open it to me."-^ 
 The spectators, carried away by this royal confession, has- 
 tened to give in their submission to the vicar of St Peter. 
 
 Thus did Rome triumph at the Whitby conference. Oswy 
 forgot that the Lord had said : / am he that openeth, and no 
 man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth.% It was 
 by ascribing to Peter the servant, what belongs to Jesus 
 Christ the master, that the papacy reduced Britain. Oswy 
 stretched out his hands, Rome riveted the chains, and the 
 liberty which Oswald had given his church seemed at the 
 last gasp. 
 
 Colman saw with grief and consternation Oswy .and his 
 subjecfs bending their knees before the foreign priests. He 
 did not, however, despair of the ultimate triumph of the 
 truth. The apostolic faith could still find shelter in the old 
 sanctuaries of the British church in Scotland and Ireland. 
 Immovable in the doctrine he had received, and resolute to 
 uphold Christian liberty, Colman withdrew with those who 
 would not bend beneath the -yoke of Rome, and returned to 
 Scotland. Thirty Anglo-Saxons, and a great number of 
 Britons, shook off the dust of their feet against the tents of 
 the Romish priests. The hatred of popery became more in- 
 tense day by day among the remainder of the Britons. De- 
 
 John xx. 23 ; Matth. XYiii. 18. 
 
 t Ne forte mo adveniento ad fores regni ocelorum, non sit qui reaerct. 
 Dcda, lib. iii. cap. xxv. 
 J John x. 9 ; Rev. iii. 7. 
 
 3* C
 
 50 SORROW OF THE BRITONS. 
 
 termined to repel its erroneous dogmas and its illegitimate 
 dominion, they maintained their communion with the Eastern 
 Church, which was more ancient than that of Rome. They 
 shuddered as they saw the red dragon of the Celts gradually 
 retiring towards the western sea from before the white dragofl 
 of the Saxons. They ascribed their misfortunes to a horrible 
 conspiracy planned by the iniquitous ambition of the foreign 
 monks, and the bards in their chants cursed the negligent 
 ministers who defended not the flock of the Lord against the 
 wolves of Rome.* But vain were their lamentations ! 
 
 The Romish priests, aided by the queen, lost no time. 
 Wilfrid, whom Oswy desired to reward for his triumph, was 
 named bishop of Northumberland, and he immediately 
 visited Paris to receive episcopal consecration in due form. 
 He soon returned, and proceeded with singular activity to 
 establish the Romish doctrine in all the churches.f Bishop 
 of a diocese extending from Edinburgh to Northampton, en- 
 riched with the goods which had belonged to divers monas- 
 teries, surrounded by a numerous train, served upon gold 
 and silver plate, Wilfrid congratulated himself on having 
 espoused the cause of the papacy ; he offended every one who 
 approached him by his insolence, and taught England how 
 wide was the difference between the humble ministers of 
 lona and a Romish priest. At the same time Oswv^ com- 
 ing to an understanding with the king of Kent, sent another 
 priest named Wighard to Rome to learn the pope's inten- 
 tions respecting the church in England, and to receive con- 
 secration as archbishop of Canterbury. There was no epis- 
 copal ordination in England worthy of a priest ! In the 
 meanwhile Oswy, with all the zeal of a new convert, ceased 
 not to repeat that " the Roman Church was the catholic 
 and apostolic church," and thought night and day on the 
 means of converting his subjects, hoping thus (says a pope) 
 to redeem his own soul4 
 
 The arrival of this news at Rome created a great sensa- 
 
 * Horse Britannicse, b. ii. p. 277. 
 
 t Ipse perplura catholicse observations moderamina ecclesiis Anglo- 
 rum sua doctrina contulit. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xxviii. 
 
 J Omnes subjectos suos meditatur die ac nocte ad fidem catholicam 
 atquo apostolicam pro SUES anima) redemptione coiiyerti. Ibid. cap. xxix,
 
 EXULTATION OF THE POPE. ' 51 
 
 lion. Vitalian, who then filled the episcopal chair, and was as 
 insolent to his bishops as he was fawning and servile to the 
 emperor, exclaimed with transport: "Who would not be 
 overjoyed!* a king converted to the true apostolic faith, a 
 people that believes at last in Christ the Almighty God!" 
 For many long years this people had believed in Christ, but 
 they were now beginning to believe in the pope, and the 
 pope will soon make them forget Jesus the Saviour. Vita- 
 lian wrote to Oswy, and sent him not copies of the Holy 
 Scriptures (which were already becoming scarce at Rome), 
 but relics of the Saints Peter, John, Lawrence, Gregory, 
 and Pancratius ; and being in an especial manner desirous 
 of rewarding Queen Eanfeld, to whom with Wilfrid belonged 
 the glory of this work, he offered her a cross, made, as he 
 assured Tier, out of the chains of St Peter and St Paul.-f- 
 " Delay not," said the pope in conclusion, " to reduce all 
 your island under Jesus Christ," or in other words, under 
 the bishop of Rome. 
 
 The essential thing, however, was to send an archbishop 
 from Rome to Britain ; but Wighard was dead, and no one 
 seemed willing to undertake so long a journey.:}: 
 
 There was not much zeal in the city of the pontiffs : and 
 the pope was compelled to look out for a stranger. There 
 happened at that time to be in Rome a man of great reputa- 
 tion for learning, who had come from the east, and adopted 
 the rites and doctrines of the Latins in exchange for the 
 knowledge he had brought them. He was pointed out to 
 Vitalian as well qualified to be the metropolitan of England. 
 Theodore, for such was his name, belonging by birth to the 
 churches of Asia Minor, would be listened to by the Britons 
 in preference to any other, when he solicited them to aban- 
 don their oriental customs. The Roman pontiff, however, 
 fearful perhaps that he might yet entertain some leaven of 
 his former Greek doctrines, gave him as companion, or rather 
 as overseer, a zealous African monk named Adrian. 
 
 * Quis enim audiens hsec suavia non Iretetur 1 Beda, lib. iii. cap. zzix. 
 
 t Conjugi, no-trie spiritual! flliae, crucem Ibid. 
 
 Minime voluimus nunc reperire pro longinquitate itinoris. Ibid. 
 Ut diligenter attenderet, nc quid ille contrarium veritati, fidei. Gras- 
 corum more, in ecclesiam cui praessetintroduceret. Ibid. lib. IT. cap. i.
 
 52 CEDDA KE-ORDAINED. 
 
 Theodore began the great crusade against British Chris- 
 tianity ; and, endeavouring to show the sincerity of his con- 
 version by his zeal, he traversed all England in company 
 with Adrian,* everywhere imposing on the people that eccle- 
 siastical supremacy to which Rome is indebted for her poli- 
 tical supremacy. The superiority of character which distin- 
 guished Saint Peter, Theodore transformed into a superiority 
 of office. For the jurisdiction of Christ and his word, he 
 substituted that of the bishop of Rome and of his decrees. 
 He insisted on the necessity of ordination by bishops who, 
 in an unbroken chain, could trace back their authority to 
 the apostles themselves. The British still maintained the 
 validity of their consecration ; but the number was small of 
 those who understood that pretended successors of the apos- 
 tles, who sometimes carry Satan in their hearts," are not 
 true ministers of Christ ; that the one thing needful for the 
 church is, that the apostles themselves (and not their suc- 
 cessors only) should dwell in its bosom by their word, by 
 their teaching, and by the Divine Comforter who shall be 
 with it for ever and ever. 
 
 The grand defection now began : the best were sometimes 
 the first to yield. When Theodore met Cedda, who had 
 been consecrated by a bishop who had himself received ordi- 
 nation from the elders of lona, he said to him : " You have 
 not been regularly ordained." Cedda, instead of standing up 
 boldly for the truth, gave way to a carnal modesty, and re- 
 plied : " I never thought myself worthy of the episcopate, 
 and am ready to lay it down." " No," said Theodore, " you 
 shall remain a bishop, but I will consecrate you anew ac- 
 cording to the catholic ritual."-]- The British minister sub- 
 mitted. Rome, triumphant, felt herself strong enough to 
 deny the imposition of hands of the elders of lona, which 
 she had hitherto recognised. The most steadfast believers 
 took refuge in Scotland. 
 
 * Peragrata insula tota, rectum vivendi ordinem disscminabat. Beda, 
 lib. iv. cap. ii. 
 
 + Cum Ceadda Episcopum argueret non fuisse rite consecratum, ipse 
 (Theodorus) ordinatiouem ejus denuo catholica ratione consummavit. 
 Ibid.
 
 DISCORD IN THE CHURCH. 53 
 
 In this manner a church in some respects deficient, but 
 still a church in which the religious element held the .fore- 
 most place, was succeeded by another in which the clerical 
 element predominated. This was soon apparent : questions 
 of authority and precedence, hitherto unknown among the 
 British Christians, were now of daily occurrence. Wilfrid, 
 who had fixed his residence at York, thought that no one 
 deserved better than he to be primate of all England ; and 
 Theodore on his part Avas irritated at the haughty tone as- 
 sumed by this bishop. During the life of Oswy, peace was 
 maintained, for Wilfrid was his favourite ; but erelong that 
 prince fell ill ; and, terrified by the near approach of death, 
 he vowed that if he recovered he would make a pilgrimage 
 to Rome and there end his days.* " If you will be my guide 
 to the city of the apostles," he said to Wilfrid, " I will give 
 you a large sum of money." But his vow was of no avail ; 
 Oswy died in the spring of the year 670 A. D. 
 
 The Wit&n set aside prince Alfred, and raised his youngest 
 brother Egfrid to the throne. The new monarch, who had 
 often been offended by Wilfrid's insolence, denounced this 
 haughty prelate to the archbishop. Nothing could be more 
 agreeable to Theodore. He assembled a council at Hert- 
 ford, before which the chief of his converts were first sum- 
 moned, and presenting to them, not the holy scripture but 
 the canons of the Romish church,j he received their solemn 
 oaths : such was the religion then taught in England. But 
 this was not all. " The diocese of our brother Wilfrid is so 
 extensive," said the primate, " that there is room in it for 
 four bishops." They were appointed accordingly. Wilfrid 
 indignantly appealed from the primate and the king to the 
 
 pope. "Who converted England, who, if not I? and 
 
 it is thus I am rewarded!" Not allowing himself to 
 
 be checked by the difficulties of the journey, he set out for 
 Rome attended by a few monks, and Pope Agathon assem- 
 bling a council (679), the Englishman presented his com- 
 plaint, and the pontiff declared the destitution to be illegal. 
 
 * Ut si ab infirmitate salraretur, etiam Romam venire, ibique ad Iocs 
 sancta vitam finire. Bcda, lib. iv. cap. ii. 
 t Quibus statim protnli eundem Hbrum canomim. Ibid. cap. T.
 
 54 WILFRID'S DISGRACE AND TREACHERY. 
 
 Wilfrid immediately returned to England, and haughtily 
 presented the pope's decree to the king. But Egfrid, who 
 was not of a disposition to tolerate these transalpine man- 
 ners, far from restoring the see, cast the prelate into prison, 
 and did not release him until the end of the year, and then 
 only on condition that he would immediately quit North- 
 umbria. 
 
 Wilfrid for we must follow even to the end of his life 
 that remarkable man, who exercised so great an influence 
 over the destinies of the English church Wilfrid was de- 
 termined to be a bishop at any cost. The kingdom of 
 Sussex was still pagan ; and the deposed prelate, whose in- 
 defatigable activity we cannot but acknowledge, formed the 
 resolution of winning a bishopric, as other men plan the 
 conquest of a kingdom. He arrived in Sussex during a 
 period of famine, and having brought with him a number of 
 nets, he taught the people the art of fishing, and thus gained 
 their affections. Their king Edilwalch had been baptized ; 
 his subjects now followed his example, and Wilfrid was 
 placed at the head of the church. But he soon manifested 
 the disposition by which he was animated : he furnished 
 supplies of men and money to Geadwalla, king of Wessex, 
 and this cruel chieftain made a fierce inroad into Sussex, 
 laying it waste, and putting to death Edilwalch, the pre- 
 late's benefactor. The -career of the turbulent bishop was 
 not ended. King Egfrid died, and was succeeded by his 
 brother Alfred, whom Wilfrid had brought up, a prince fond 
 of learning and religion, and emulous of the glory of his 
 uncle Oswald. The ambitious Wilfrid hastened to claim his 
 see of York, by acquiescing in the partition ; it was restored 
 to him, and he forthwith began to plunder others to enrich 
 himself. A council begged him to submit to the decrees of 
 the church of England ; he refused, and having lost the 
 esteem of the king, his former pupil, he undertook, notwith- 
 standing his advanced years, a third journey to Rome. 
 Knowing how popes are won, he threw himself at the 
 pontiffs feet, exclaiming that " the suppliant bishop Wilfrid, 
 the humble slave of the servant of God, implored the favour 
 of our most blessed lord, the pope universal." The bishop
 
 HIS END SCOTLAND ATTACKED ADAMNAN. 55 
 
 could not restore his creature to his see, and the short re- 
 mainder of Wilfrid's life was spent in the midst of the richea 
 his cupidity had so unworthily accumulated. 
 
 Yet he had accomplished the task of his life : all England 
 was subservient to the papacy. The names of Oswy and of 
 Wilfrid should be inscribed in letters of mourning in the 
 annals of Great Britain. Posterity has erred in permitting 
 them to sink into oblivion ; for they were two of the most 
 influential and energetic men that ever flourished in Eng- 
 land. Still this very forgetfulness is not wanting in gene- 
 rosity. The grave in which the liberty of the church lay 
 buried for nine centuries is the only monument a mourn- 
 ful one indeed that should perpetuate their memory. 
 
 But Scotland was still free, and to secure the definitive 
 triumph of Rome, it was necessary to invade that virgin soil, 
 over which the standard of the faith had floated for so many 
 years. 
 
 Adamnan was then at the head of the church of lona, the 
 first elder of that religious house. He was virtuous and 
 learned, but weak and somewhat vain, and his religion had 
 little spirituality. To gain him was in the eyes of Rome to 
 gain Scotland. A singular circumstance favoured the plans 
 of those who desired to draw him into the papal communion. 
 One day during a violent tempest, a ship coming from the 
 Holy Land, and on board of which was a Gaulish bishop 
 named Arculf, was wrecked in the neighbourhood of lona.* 
 Arculf eagerly sought an asylum among the pious inhabit- 
 ants of that island. Adamnan never grew tired of hearing 
 the stranger's descriptions of Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and 
 Golgotha, of the sun-burnt plains over which our Lord had 
 wandered, and the cleft stone which still lay before the door 
 of the sepulchre.-}- The elder of lona, who prided himself 
 on his learning, noted down Arculfs conversation, and from 
 it composed a description of the Holy Land. As soon as his 
 book was completed, the desire of making these wondrous 
 
 Vi tempestatis in occidentalia Britannia; littora delatus est. Beda, 
 lib. v. cap. xvi. 
 
 f Lapis qui ad ostium monumenti positus erat, fiesus cst. Ibid, cap 
 rvii.
 
 56 EESISTANCE OF IONA. 
 
 things more widely known, combined with a little va> Jty, 
 and perhaps othet motives, urged him to visit the court of 
 Northumberland, where he presented his work to the pious 
 King Alfred,* who, being fond of learning and of the Chri<?~ 
 tian traditions, caused a number of copies of it to be made. 
 
 Nor was this all : the Romish clergy perceived the advan- 
 tage they might derive from this imprudent journey. They 
 crowded round the elder ; they showed him all the pomp of 
 their worship, and said to him : " Will you and your friends, 
 who live at the very extremity of the world, set yourselves 
 in opposition to the observances of the universal church ?"{ 
 The nobles of the court flattered the author's self-love, and 
 invited him to their festivities, while the king loaded him 
 with presents. The free presbyter of Britain became a priest 
 of Rome, and Adamnan returned to lona to betray his 
 church to his new masters. But it was all to no purpose : 
 lona would not give way.f He then went to hide his shame 
 in Ireland, where, having brought a few individuals to the- 
 Romish uniformity, he took courage and revisited Scotland. 
 But that country, still inflexible, repelled him with indigna- 
 tion^ 
 
 When Rome found herself unable to conquer by the priest, 
 she had recourse to the prince, and her eyes were turned to 
 Naitam, king of the Picts. " How much more glorious it 
 would be for you," urged the Latin priests, " to belong to the 
 powerful church of the universal pontiff of Rome, than to a 
 congregation superintended by miserable elders ! The Ro- 
 mish church is a monarchy, and ought to be the church of 
 every monarch. The Roman ceremonial accords with the 
 pomp of royalty, and its temples are palaces." The prince 
 was convinced by the last argument. He despatched mes- 
 sengers to Ceolfrid, the abbot of an English convent, begging 
 
 * Porrexit autem librum tune Adamnanus Alfrido regi. Beda, lib. 
 v. cap. xvi. 
 
 j- Ne contra universalem ecclesise morem, cum suis paucissimis et in 
 extreme mundi angulo positis, vivere praesumeret. Ibid. 
 
 J Curavit sues ad eum veritatis calcem producere, nee voluit. Ibid. 
 
 Nee tamen perficere quod conabatur posset. Ibid. The conversions 
 of which Abbot Ceolfrid speaks in chap. xxii. are probably those effected 
 in Ireland, the word Scotia being at this period frequently applied to that 
 country.
 
 NAITAM CONVERTED TO ROMANISM. 57 
 
 him to send him architects capable of building a church after 
 the Roman pattern* of stone and^iot of wood. Architects, 
 majestic porches, lofty columns, vaulted roofs, gilded altars, 
 have often proved the most influential of Rome's mission- 
 aries. The builder's art. though in its earliest and simplest 
 day?, was more powerful than the Bible. Naitam, who, by 
 submitting to the pope, thought himself the equal of Clovis 
 and Clotaire, assembled the nobles of his court and the pas- 
 tors of his church, and thus addressed them : " I recommend 
 all the clergy of my kingdom to receive the tonsure of Saint 
 Peter." f Then without delay (as Bede informs us) this 
 important revolution was accomplished by royal authority, f 
 He sent agents and letters into every province, and caused 
 all the ministers and monks to receive the circular tonsure 
 according to the Roman fashion. It was the mark that 
 popery stamped, not on the forehead, but on the crown. A 
 royal proclamation and a few clips of the scissors placed the 
 Scotch, like a flock of sheep, beneath the crook of the shep- 
 herd of the Tiber. 
 
 lona still held out. The orders of the Pictish king, 
 the example of his subjects, the sight of that Italian power 
 which was devouring the earth, had shaken some few minds ; 
 but the church still resisted the innovation. lona was the 
 last citadel of liberty in the western world, and popery was 
 filled with anger at that miserable band which in its remote 
 corner refused to bend before it. Human means appeared 
 insufficient to conquer this rock : something more was needed, 
 visions and miracles for example; and these Rome always 
 finds when she wants them. One day towards the end of 
 the seventh century, an English monk, named Egbert, 
 arriving from Ireland, appeared before the elders of lona, who 
 received him with their accustomed hospitality. He was a 
 man in whom enthusiastic devotion was combined with great 
 
 * Architectos sibi mitti pctiit qui juxta morcm Romanorum ecclesiam 
 laccrent. Beda, lib. v. cap. xxii. 
 
 f Et bane accipere tonsuram, omnes qui in meo regno sunt clericos 
 decerno. Ibid. 
 
 J Nee mora, qua) dixerat regia auctoritate perfecit. Ibid. 
 
 Per universas Pictorum provinciaa tondebantur omnes in coronam 
 
 ounistri altaris ac monacal. Ibid. 
 
 c 2
 
 58 EGBERT THE MONK AT IONA. 
 
 gentleness of heart, and he soon won upon the minds of these 
 simple believers. He snpke to them of an external unity, 
 urging that a universality manifested under different forms 
 was unsuited to the church of Christ. He advocated the 
 special form of Rome, and for the truly catholic element 
 which the Christians of lona had thus far possessed, sub- 
 stituted a sectarian element. He attacked the traditions of 
 the British church,* and lavishly distributing the rich pre- 
 sents confided to him by the lords of Ireland and of England,f 
 he soon had reason to acknowledge the truth of the saying 
 of the wise man : A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of 
 him that hath it : whithersoever it turneth it prospereth. 
 
 Some pious souls, however, still Tield out in lona. The 
 enthusiast Egbert for such he appears to have been rather 
 than an impostor had recourse to other means. He repre- 
 sented himself to be a messenger from heaven : the saints 
 themselves, said he, have commissioned me to convert lona ; 
 and then he told the following history to the elders who 
 stood round him. " About thirty years ago, I entered the 
 monastery of Rathmelfig in Ireland, when a terrible pesti- 
 lence fell upon it, and of all the brethren the monk Edelhun 
 and myself were left alone. Attacked by the plague, and 
 fearing my last hour was come, I rose from my bed and 
 crept into the chapel.J There my whole body trembled at 
 the recollection of my sins, and my face was bathed with 
 tears. ' God,' I exclaimed, ' suffer me not to die until I 
 have redeemed my debt to thee by an abundance of good 
 works." I returned staggering to the infirmary, got into 
 bed, and fell asleep. When I awoke, I saw Edelhun with 
 his eyes fixed on mine. ' Brother Egbert,' said he, ' it has 
 been revealed to me in a vision that thou shalt receive what 
 
 * Sedulis cxhortationibus inyeteratam illam traditionem parentum 
 eorum. Beda, lib. v. cap. xxiii. 
 
 f Pietate largiendi de his quse a divitibus acceperat, multum profuit. 
 Ibid. cap. xxvii. 
 
 J Cum sc existimaret esse moriturum, egressus est tempore matutino 
 de cubiculo, et residens solus Ibid. lib. iii. cap. xxvii. 
 
 Precabatur ne adhuc mori deberet priusquam vel prseteritas negli- 
 gentias aperfectim ex tempore castigaret, vel in bonis se operibus abundan- 
 tius exerceret. Ibid.
 
 MONKISH VISIONS. 59 
 
 thou hast asked.' On the following night Edelhun died and 
 I recovered. 
 
 " Many years passed away : my repentance and my vigils 
 did lot satisfy me, and wishing to pay my debt, I resolved 
 to go with a company of monks and preach the blessings of 
 the gospel to the heathens of Germany. But during the 
 night a blessed saint from heaven appeared to one of the 
 brethren and said : ' Tell Egbert that he must go to the 
 monasteries of Columba, for their ploughs do not plough 
 straight, and he must put them into the right furrow.'* I 
 forbade this brother to speak of his vision, and went on 
 board a ship bound for Germany. We were waiting for a 
 favourable wind, when, of a sudden, in the middle of the 
 night, a frightful tempest burst upon the vessel, and drove us 
 on the shoals. ' For my sake this tempest is upon us/ I 
 exclaimed in terror ; ' God speaks to me as He did to 
 Jonah ;' and I ran to take refuge in my cell. At last I de- 
 termined to obey the command which the holy man had 
 brought me. I left Ireland, and came among you, in order 
 to pay my debt by converting you. And now," continued 
 Egbert, " make answer to the voice of heaven, and submit to 
 Rome." 
 
 A ship thrown on shore by a storm was a frequent occur- 
 rence on those coasts, and the dream of a monk, absorbed in 
 the plans of his brother, was nothing very unnatural. But 
 in those times of darkness, everything appeared miraculous ; 
 phantoms and apparitions had more weight than the word of 
 God. Instead of detecting the emptiness of these visions by 
 the falseness of the religion they were brought to support, 
 the elders of lona listened seriously to Egbert's narrative. 
 The primitive faith planted on the rock of Icolmkill was now 
 like a pine-tree tossed by the winds : but one gust, and it 
 would be uprooted and blown into the sea. Egbert, per- 
 ceiving the elders to be shaken, redoubled his prayers, and 
 even had recourse to threats. "AH the west," said he, 
 " bends the knee to Rome : alone against all, what can you 
 do?" The Scotch still resisted: obscure and unknown, the 
 
 * Qnia aratra eorum non recto incedunt ; oportet autem cum ad no- 
 turn luce tramitem rovocare. Bcda, lib. iii. cap. xxvii.
 
 60 FALL OF IOXA. 
 
 last British Christians contended in behalf of expiring liberty. 
 At length bewildered they stumbled and fell. The scissors 
 were brought ; they received the Latin tonsure* they were 
 the pope's. f 
 
 Thus fell Scotland. Yet there still remained some sparks 
 of grace, and the mountains of Caledonia long concealed the 
 hidden fire which after many ages burst forth with such 
 power and might. Here and there a few independent spirits 
 were to be found who testified against the tyranny of Rome. 
 In the time of Bede they might be seen " halting in their 
 paths," (to use the words of the Romish historian,) refusing 
 to join in the holidays of the pontifical adherents, and push- 
 ing away the hands that were eager to shave their crowns.-J- 
 But the leaders of the state and of the church had laid down 
 their arms. The contest was over, after lasting more than 
 a century. British Christianity had in some degree prepared 
 its own fall, by substituting too often the form for the faith. 
 The foreign superstition took advantage of this weakness, 
 and triumphed in these islands by means of royal decrees, 
 church ornaments, monkish phantoms, and conventual ap- 
 paritions. At the beginning of the eighth century the Bri- 
 tish Church became the serf of Rome; but an internal 
 struggle was commencing, which did not cease until the 
 period of the Reformation. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Clement Struggle between a Scotchman and an Englishman Word of 
 God only Clement's Success His Condemnation Virgil and the 
 Antipodes John Scotus and Philosophical Religion Alfred and the 
 Bible Darkness and Popery William the Conqueror Wulston at 
 Edward's Tomb -^Struggle between William and Hildebrand The Pope 
 y ields Csesaropapia. 
 
 THE independent Christians of Scotland, who subordinated 
 the authority of man to that of God, were filled with sorrow 
 
 * Ad ritum tonsurse canonicum sub figura coronse perpetuae. Beda, 
 lib. v. cap. xxiii. 
 
 f- Sicut e contra Brittones, inveterati et claudicantes a semitis suis, et 
 oapita ferre sine corona prsetendunt. Ibid.
 
 C&EMENT AND BOXIFACE. 61 
 
 as they beheld these backslidings : and it was this no doubt 
 which induced many to leave their homes and fight in the 
 very heart of Europe in behalf of that Christian liberty which 
 had just expired among themselves. 
 
 At the commencement of the eighth century a great idea 
 took possession of a pious doctor of the Scottish church 
 named Clement.* The ivork of God is the very essence of 
 Christianity, thought he, and this work must be defended 
 against all the encroachments of man. To human tradition- 
 alism he opposed the sole authority of the word of God ; to 
 clerical materialism, a church which is the assembly of the 
 saints ; and to Pelagianisra, the sovereignty of grace. He 
 was a man of decided character and firm faith, but without 
 fanaticism ; his heart was open to the holiest emotions of 
 our nature; he was a husband and a father. He quitted 
 Scotland and travelled among the Franks, everywhere scat- 
 tering the seeds of the faith. It happened unfortunately 
 that a man of kindred energy, Winifrid or Boniface of Wes- 
 sex, was planting the pontifical Christianity in the same 
 regions. This great missionary, who possessed in an essen- 
 tial degree the faculty of organization, aimed at external 
 unity above all things, and when he had taken the oath of 
 fidelity to Gregory II., he had received from that pope a col- 
 lection of the Roman laws. Boniface, henceforth a docile 
 disciple or rather a fanatical champion of Rome, supported 
 on the one hand by the pontiff, and on the other by Charley 
 Martel, ha preached to the people of Germany, among some 
 undoubted Christian truths, the doctrine of tithes and of 
 papal supremacy. The Englishman and the Scotchman, 
 representatives of two great systems, were about to engage 
 in deadly combat in the heart of Europe in a combat whose 
 consequences might be incalculable. 
 
 Alarmed at the progress made by Clement's evangelical 
 doctrines, Boniface, archbishop of the German churches, un- 
 dertook to oppose them. At first he confronted the Scotch- 
 man with the laws of the Roman church ; but the latter de- 
 nied the authority of these ecclesiastical canons, and refuted 
 
 * Alter qui dicitur Clemens, genere Scotus est. Bonifacii epistola ad 
 Papara, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745.
 
 62 THE WORD OF GOD ALONE CLEMENT'S SUCCESS. 
 
 their contents.* Boniface then put forward the decisions of 
 various councils ; but Clement replied that if the decisions of 
 the councils are contrary to holy Scripture, they have no 
 authority over Christians, f The archbishop, astonished at 
 such audacity, next had recourse to the writings of the most 
 illustrious fathers of the Latin church, quoting Jerome, 
 Augustine, and Gregory ; but the Scotchman told him, that 
 instead of submitting to the word of men, he would obey the 
 word of God alone. ^ Boniface with indignation now intro- 
 duced the Catholic church, which, by its priests and bishops 
 all united to the pope, forms an invincible unity ; but to his 
 great surprise his opponent maintained that there only, 
 where the Holy Spirit dwells, can be found the spouse of 
 Jesus Christ. Vainly did the archbishop express his hor- 
 ror ; Clement was not to be turned aside from his great idea, 
 either by the clamours of the followers of Rome, or by the 
 imprudent attacks made on the papacy by other Christian 
 ministers. 
 
 Rome had, indeed, other adversaries. A Gallic bishop 
 named Adalbert, with whom Boniface affected to associate 
 Clement, one day saw the archbishop complacently exhibit- 
 ing to the people some relics of St Peter which he had 
 brought from Rome; and being desirous of showing the 
 ridiculous character of these Romish practices, he distributed 
 among the bystanders his own hair and nails, praying them 
 p pay these the same honours as Boniface claimed for the 
 relics of the papacy. Clement smiled, like many others, at 
 Adalbert's singular argument; but it was not with such 
 arms that he was wont to fight. Gifted with profound dis- 
 cernment, he had remarked that the authority of man sub- 
 stituted for the authority of God was the source of all the 
 errors of Romanism. At the same time he maintained on 
 predestination what the archbishop called " horrible doctrines, 
 
 * Canones ecclesiarum Christi abnegat et refutat. Bonifacii cpistola 
 ad Papam, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745. 
 
 f Synodalia jura sperncns. Ibid. 
 
 J Tractatus et scrmoncs sanctorum patrum, Hieronymi, Augustiui, 
 Gregorii recusat. Ibid. 
 
 Clemens contra catholicam contendit ecclesiam. Ibid.
 
 CLEMENT CONDEMNED. 63 
 
 contrary to the Catholic faith."* Clement's character inclines 
 us to believe that he was favourable to the doctrine of pre- 
 destination. A century later the pious Gottschalk was per- 
 secuted by one of Boniface's successors for holding this very 
 doctrine of Augustine's. Thus then did a Scotchman, the 
 representative of the ancient faith of his country, withstand 
 almost unaided in the centre of Europe the invasion of the 
 Romans. But he was not long alone : the great especially, 
 more enlightened than the common people, thronged around 
 him. If Clement had succeeded, a Christian church would 
 have been founded on the continent independent of the 
 papacy. 
 
 Boniface was confounded. He wished to do in central 
 Europe what his fellow-countryman Wilfrid had done in 
 England ; and at the very moment he fancied he was ad- 
 vancing from triumph to triumph, victory escaped from his 
 hands, he turned against this new enemy, and applying to 
 Charles MartePs sons, Pepin and Carloman, he obtained 
 their consent to. the assembling of a council before which he 
 summoned Clement to appear. 
 
 The bishops, counts, and other notabilities having met at 
 Soissons on the 2d March 744, Boniface accused the Scotch- 
 man of despising the laws of Rome, the councils, and the 
 fathers ; attacked his marriage, which he called an adulter- 
 ous union, and called in question some secondary points of 
 doctrine. Clement was accordingly excommunicated by 
 Boniface, at once his adversary, accuser, and judge, and 
 thrown into prison, with the approbation of the pope and 
 the king of the Franks.-}- 
 
 The Scotchman's cause was everywhere taken up ; accu- 
 sations were brought against the German primate, his per- 
 secuting spirit was severely condemned, and his exertions 
 for the triumph of the papacy were resisted. | Carloman 
 yielded to this unanimous movement. The prison doors 
 
 * Multa alia horribilia do prredestinatione Dei, contraria fidei catholics) 
 iffirmat. Bonifacii epistola ad Papam, Labbci concilia ad aim. 7 1 ">. 
 
 t Sacerdotio privans, reduci facit in custodiam. Concilium Romannm. 
 Ibid. 
 
 Propter istas cnim, persecutiones et inimicitias et maledictioncs 
 multorum populorum patior. Ibid.
 
 64 VIRGIL AKD THE ANTIPODES. 
 
 were opened, and Clement had hardly crossed the threshold 
 before he began to protest boldly against human authority 
 in matters of faith : the word of God is the only rule. Upon 
 this Boniface applied to Rome for the heretic's condemna- 
 tion, and accompanied his request by a silver cup and a 
 garment of delicate texture.* The pope decided in synod 
 that if Clement did not retract his errors, he should be de- 
 livered up to everlasting damnation, and then requested 
 Boniface to send him to Rome under a sure guard. We 
 here lose all traces of the Scotchman, but it is easy to con- 
 jecture what must have been his fate. 
 
 Clement was not the only Briton who became distinguished 
 in this contest. Two fellow-countrymen, Sampson and 
 Virgil, who preached in central Europe, were in like manner 
 persecuted by the Church of Rome. Virgil, anticipating 
 Galileo, dared maintain that there were other men and ano- 
 ther world beneath our feet.-j- He was denounced by Boni- 
 face for this heresy, and condemned by the pope, as were 
 other Britons for the apostolical simplicity of their lives. In 
 813, certain Scotchmen who called themselves bishops, says 
 a canon, having appeared before a council of the Roman 
 church at Chalons, were rejected by the French prelates, 
 because, like St Paul, they ivorTced with their own hands. 
 Those enlightened and faithful men were superior to their 
 time : Boniface and his ecclesiastical materialism were bet- 
 ter fitted for an age in which clerical forms were regarded 
 as the substance of religion. 
 
 Even Great Britain, although its light was not so pure, 
 was not altogether plunged in darkness. The Anglo-Saxons 
 imprinted on their church certain characteristics which dis- 
 tinguished it from that of Rome ; several books of the Bible 
 were translated into their tongue, and daring spirits on the 
 one hand, with some pious souls on the other, laboured in a 
 direction hostile to popery. 
 
 At first we see the dawning of that philosophic rational- 
 
 * Poculum argenteum et sindonem unam. Gemuli Ep. Bonifacii epis- 
 tola ad Papam, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745. 
 
 .f Perversa doctrina quod alius mundus et alii homines sub terra 
 
 eiut. Zacharise papae Ep. ad Bouif. Labbei concilia, vi. p. 152.
 
 DUNS SCOTUS. 65 
 
 ism, which gives out a certain degree of brightness, but 
 which can neither conquer error nor still less establish truth. 
 In the ninth century there was a learned scholar in Ireland, 
 who afterwards settled at the court of Charles the Bald. He 
 was a strange mysterious man, of profound thought, and as 
 much raised above the doctors of his age by the boldness 
 of his ideas, as Charlemagne above the princes of his day by 
 the force of his will. John Scot Erigena that is, a native 
 of Ireland and not of Ayr, as some have supposed was a 
 meteor in the theological heavens. "With a great philoso- 
 phic genius he combined a cheerful jesting disposition. One 
 day, while seated at table opposite to Charles the Bald, the 
 latter archly inquired of him : " What is the distance be- 
 tween a Scot and a sot ?" " The width of the table," was 
 his ready answer, which drew a smile from the king. While 
 the doctrine of Bede, Boniface, and even Alcuin was tradi- 
 tional, servile, and, in one word, Romanist, that of Scot was 
 mystical, philosophic, free, and daring. He sought for the 
 truth not in the word or in the Church, but in himself: 
 " The knowledge of ourselves is the true source of religious 
 wisdom. Every creature is a theophany a manifestation 
 of God ; since revelation presupposes the existence of truth, 
 it is this truth, which is above revelation, with which man 
 must set himself in immediate relation, leaving him at liberty 
 to show afterwards its harmony with scripture, and the other 
 theophanies. We must first employ reason, and then author- 
 ity. Authority proceeds from reason, and not reason from 
 authority."* Yet this bold thinker, when on his knees, could 
 give way to aspirations full of piety : " Lord Jesus," 
 exclaimed he, " I ask no other happiness of Thee, but to 
 understand, unmixed with deceitful theories, the word that 
 Thou hast inspired by thy Holy Spirit ! Show thyself to 
 those who ask for Thee alone!" But while Scot rejected 
 on the one hand certain traditional errors, and in particular 
 the doctrine of transubstantiation, which was creeping into 
 the church, he was near falling as regards God and the 
 
 * Prius ratione utendum ac deinde auctoritate. Auctoritas ex vcra 
 ratione processit, ratio vero nequaquam ex auctoritato. De div. pr- 
 destin. 
 
 vor,. v. 4
 
 66 ALFRED AND THE BIBLE. 
 
 world into other errors savouring of pantheism.* The phil- 
 osophic rationalism of the contemporary of Charles the Bald 
 the strange product of one of the obscurest periods of his- 
 tory (850) was destined after the lapse of many centuries 
 to be taught once more in Great Britain as a modern inven- 
 tion of the most enlightened age. 
 
 While Scot was thus plumbing the depths of philosophy, 
 others were examining their Bibles ; and if thick darkness 
 had not spread over these first glimpses of the dawn, per- 
 haps the Church of Great Britain might even then have 
 begun to labour for the regeneration of Christendom. A 
 youthful prince, thirsting for intellectual enjoyments, for 
 domestic happiness, and for the word of God, and who 
 sought, by frequent prayer, for deliverance from the bondage 
 of sin, had ascended the throne of Wessex, in the year 871. 
 Alfred being convinced that Christianity alone could rightly 
 mould a nation, assembled round him the most learned men 
 from all parts of Europe, and was anxious that the English, 
 like the Hebrews, Greeks, and Latins, should possess the 
 holy Scripture in their own language. He is the real patron 
 of the biblical work, a title far more glorious than that of 
 founder of the university of Oxford. After having fought 
 more than fifty battles by land and sea, he died while trans- 
 lating the Psalms of David for his subjects, -j- 
 
 After this gleam of light thick darkness once more settled 
 upon Great Britain. Nine Anglo-Saxon kings ended their 
 days in monasteries ; there was a seminary in Rome from 
 which every year fresh scholars bore to England the new 
 forms of popery ; the celibacy of priests, that cement of the 
 Romish hierarchy, was established by a bull about the close 
 of the tenth century ; convents were multiplied, considerable 
 possessions were bestowed on the Church, and the tax of 
 Peter's pence, laid at the pontiff's feet, proclaimed the 
 triumph of the papal system. But a reaction soon took 
 place : England collected her forces for a war against the 
 papacy a war at one time secular and at another spiritual. 
 
 * Deum in omnibus esse. De dmsione nature, b. 74. 
 f A portion of the law of God translated by Alfred may be found in 
 Wilkins, Concilia, i. p. 1 86, et seq.
 
 WILUAM THE CONQUEROR. 67 
 
 William of Normandy, Edward III., Wickliffe, and the Re- 
 formation, are the four ascending steps of Protestantism in 
 England. 
 
 A proud, enterprising, and far-sighted prince, the illegiti- 
 mate son of a peasant girl of Falaise and Robert the Devil, 
 duke of Normandy, began a contest with the papacy which 
 lasted until the Reformation. William the Conqueror, hav- 
 ing defeated the Saxons at Hastings in 1066 A.D., took 
 possession of England, under the benediction of the Roman 
 pontiff. But the conquered country was destined to conquer 
 its master. William, who had invaded England in the 
 pope's name, had no sooner touched the soil of his new 
 kingdom, than he learned to resist Rome, as if the ancient 
 liberty of the British Church had revived in him. Being 
 firmly resolved to allow no foreign prince or prelate to 
 possess in his dominions a jurisdiction independent of his 
 own, he made preparations for a conquest far more difficult 
 than that of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom. The papacy itself 
 furnished him with weapons. The Roman legates prevailed 
 on the king to dispossess the English episcopacy in a mass, 
 and this was exactly what he wished. To resist the papacy, 
 William desired to be sure of the submission of the priests , 
 of England. Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury, was re- 
 moved, and Lanfranc of Pavia, who had been summoned 
 from Bee in Normandy to fill his place, was commissioned 
 by the Conqueror to bend the clergy to obedience. This 
 prelate, who was regular in his life, abundant in almsgiving, 
 a learned disputant, a prudent politician, and a skilful me- 
 diator, finding that he had to choose between his master 
 King William and his friend the pontiff Hildebrand, gave 
 the prince the preference. He refused to go to Rome, not- 
 withstanding the threats of the pope, and applied himself 
 resolutely to the work the king had intrusted to him. The 
 Saxons sometimes resisted the Normans, as the Britons had 
 resisted the Saxons; but the second struggle was less 
 glorious than the first. A synod at which the king was 
 present having met in the abbey of Westminster, William 
 commanded Wulston, bishop of Worcester, to give up his 
 crosier to him. The old man rose, animated with holy fer-
 
 68 WULSTON AT EDWARD'S TOMB. 
 
 vour : " king," he said, " from a better man than you I 
 received it, and to him only will I return it."* Unhappily 
 this "better man" was not Jesus Christ. Then approach- 
 ing the tomb of Edward the Confessor, he continued: "0 
 my master, it was you who compelled me to assume this 
 office ; but now behold a new king and a new primate who 
 promulgate new laws. Not unto them, master, but unto 
 you, do I resign my crosier and the care of my flock." With 
 these words Wulston laid his pastoral staff on Edward's 
 tomb. On the sepulchre of the confessor perished the liberty 
 of the Anglo-Saxon hierarchy. The deprived Saxon bishops 
 were consigned to fortresses or shut up in convents. 
 
 The Conqueror being thus assured of the obedience of the 
 bishops, put forward the supremacy of the sword in opposi- 
 tion to that of the pope. He nominated directly to all vacant 
 ecclesiastical offices, filled his treasury with the riches of the 
 churches, required that all priests should make oath to him, 
 forbade them to excommunicate his officers without his con- 
 sent, not even for incest, and declared that all synodal de- 
 cisions must be countersigned by him. " I claim," said he 
 to the archbishop one day, raising his arms towards heaven, 
 . " I claim to hold in this hand all the pastoral staffs in my 
 kingdom." -f- Lanfranc was astonished at this daring speech, 
 but prudently kept silent,:}: for a time at least. Episcopacy 
 connived at the royal pretensions. 
 
 Will Hildebrand, the most inflexible of popes, bend before 
 William? The king was earnest in his desire to enslave 
 the Church to the State ; the pope to enslave the State to 
 the Church : the collision of these two mighty champions 
 threatened to be terrible. But the haughtiest of pontiffs 
 was seen to yield as soon as he felt the mail-clad hand of 
 the Conqueror, and to shrink unresistingly before it. The 
 pope filled all Christendom with confusion, that he might 
 deprive princes of the right of investiture to ecclesiastical 
 
 * Divino animi ardore repento inflammatus, regi inquit : Melior te 
 his me ornavit cui et reddam. Wilkins, Concilia, i. 367. 
 
 f Respondit rex et dixit se velle omnes baculos pastorales Angliaj in 
 manu sua tenere. Script. Anglic. Loud. 1652, fol. p. 1327. 
 
 Lanfranc ad haec miratus est, sed propter majores ecclesiae Christi 
 utilitates, quas sine rege perficere non potuit, ad tempus siluit. Ibid.
 
 THE ^OPE GIVES WAY. 69 
 
 dignities : William would not permit him to interfere with 
 that question in England, and Hildebrand submitted. The 
 king went even farther : the pope, wishing to enslave the 
 clergy, deprived the priests of their lawful wives ; William 
 got a decree passed by the council of Winchester in 1076 to 
 the effect that the married priests living in castles and towns 
 should not be compelled to put away their wives.* This 
 was too much : Hildebrand summoned Lanfranc to Rome, 
 but William forbade him to go. " Never did king, not even 
 a pagan," exclaimed Gregory, "attempt against the holy 
 
 see what this man does not fear to carry out! "7 To 
 
 console himself, be demanded payment of the Peter's pence, 
 and an oath of fidelity. William sent the money, but re- 
 fused the homage; and when Hildebrand saw the tribute 
 which the king had paid, he said bitterly: "What value 
 can I set on money which is contributed .with so little 
 honour I" J William forbade his clergy to recognise the 
 pope, or to publish a bull without the royal approbation, 
 which did not prevent Hildebrand from styling him " the 
 pearl of princes." " It is true," said he to his legate, " that 
 the English king does not behave in certain matters so re- 
 ligiously as we could desire Yet beware of exasperating 
 
 him We shall win him over to God and St Peter more 
 
 surely by mildness and reason than by strictness or se- 
 verity." || In this manner the pope acted like the archbishop 
 siluit : he was silent. It is for feeble governments that 
 Rome reserves her energies. 
 
 The Norman kings, desirous of strengthening their work, 
 constructed Gothic cathedrals in the room of wooden churches, 
 in which they installed their soldier-bishops, as if they were 
 strong fortresses. Instead of the moral power and the 
 humble crook of the shepherd, they gave them secular power 
 
 * Sacerdotes vcro in castellis vel in ricis habitantes habentes uxores, 
 non cogantur nt dimittant. Wilkins, Concilia, i. p. 3C7. 
 
 f Nemo enim omnium regum, etiam paganorum Greg. lib. vii. Ep. 
 
 i. ad Hubert. 
 
 J Pecunias sine honore tributas, quanti pretii habeain. Ibid. 
 
 Gemma priucipnm csse meruisti. Ibid. Ep. xxiii. ad Gulielm. 
 
 || Facilius leuitatis dulcedine ac rationis ostcnsione, quain austeritnfo 
 vel rigore justitiao. Ibid. Ep. v. ad Hugonem.
 
 70 C^ESAROPAPIA. 
 
 and a staff. The religious episcopate was succeeded by a 
 political one. William Rufus went even to greater lengths 
 than his father. Taking advantage of the schism which 
 divided the papacy, he did without a pope for ten years ; 
 leaving abbeys, bishoprics, and even Canterbury vacant, 
 and scandalously squandering their revenues. Csesaropapia 
 (which transforms a king into a pope) having thus attained 
 its greatest excess, a sacerdotal reaction could not fail to 
 take place. 
 
 The papacy is about to rise up again in England, and roy- 
 alty to decline two movements which are always found 
 combined in Great Britain. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Anselm's Firmness Becket's Austerity The King scourged John be- 
 comes the Pope's Vassal Collision between Popery and Liberty 
 The Vassal King ravages his Kingdom Religion of the Senses and 
 Superstition. 
 
 WE are now entering upon a new phase of history. Roman- 
 ism is on the point of triumphing by the exertions of learned 
 men, energetic prelates, and princes in whom extreme im- 
 prudence was joined with extreme servility. This is the era 
 of the dominion of popery, and we shall see it unscrupu- 
 lously employing the despotism by which it is characterized. 
 A malady having occasioned some degree of remorse in 
 the king, he consented to fill up the vacancy in the archi- 
 episcopal see. And now Anselm first appears in England. 
 He was born in an Alpine valley, at the town of Aosta in 
 Piedmont. Imbibing the instructions of his pious mother 
 Ermenberga, and believing that God's throne was placed on 
 the summit of the gigantic mountains he saw rising around 
 him, the child Anselm climbed them in Iris dreams, and re- 
 ceived the bread of heaven from the hands of the Lord. 
 Unhappily in after-years he recognised another throne in the
 
 ANBELM. 7) 
 
 jhurch of Christ, and bowed his head before the chair of St 
 Peter. This was the man whom William II. summoned in 
 1093 to fill the primacy of Canterbury. Anselm, who was 
 then sixty years old, and engaged in teaching at Bee, refused 
 at first : the character of Rufus terrified him. " The church 
 of England," said he, " is a plough that ouglii to be drawn 
 by two oxen of equal strength. How can you yoke together 
 an old and timid sheep like me and that wild bull? " At length 
 he accepted, and concealing a mind of great power under an 
 appearance of humility, he had hardly arrived in England 
 before he recognised Pope Urban II., demanded the estates 
 of his see which the treasury had seized upon, refused to pay 
 the king the sums he demanded, contested the right of in- 
 vestiture against Henry I., forbade all ecclesiastics to take 
 the feudal oath, and determined that the priests should forth- 
 with put away their wives. Scholasticism, of which An- 
 selm was the first representative, freed the church from the 
 yoke of royalty, but only to chain it to the papal chair. 
 The fetters were about to be riveted by a still more ener- 
 getic hand ; and what this great theologian had begun, a 
 great worldling was to carry on. 
 
 At the hunting parties of Henry II. a man attracted the 
 attention of his sovereign by his air of frankness, agreeable 
 manners, witty conversation, and exuberant vivacity. This 
 was Thomas Becket, the son of an Anglo-Saxon and a Sy- 
 rian woman. Being both priest and soldier, he was appoint- 
 ed at the same time by the king prebend of Hastings and 
 governor of the Tower. "When nominated chancellor of 
 England, he showed himself no less expert than Wilfrid in 
 misappropriating the wealth of the minors in his charge, 
 and of the abbeys and bishoprics, and indulged in the most 
 extravagant luxury. Henry, the first of the Plantagenets, 
 a man of undecided character, having noticed Becket's zeal 
 in upholding the prerogatives of the crown, appointed him 
 archbishop of Canterbury. " Now, sire," remarked the pri- 
 mate, with a smile, "when I shall have to choose between 
 God's favour and yours, remember it is yours that I shall 
 sacrifice." 
 
 Becket, who, as keeper of the seals, had been the most
 
 72 THOMAS BECKET OPPOSES THE KING. 
 
 magnificent of courtiers, affected as archbishop to be the 
 most venerable of saints. He sent back the seals to the 
 king, assumed the robe of a monk, wore sackcloth filled with 
 vermin, lived on the plainest food, every day knelt down to 
 wash the feet of the poor, paced the cloisters of his cathedra! 
 with tearful eyes, and spent hours in prayer before the altar. 
 As champion of the priests, even in their crimes, he took 
 under his protection one who to the crime of seduction had 
 added the murder of his victim's father. 
 
 The judges having represented to Henry that during the 
 first eight years of his reign a hundred murders had been com- 
 mitted by ecclesiastics, the king in 1164 summoned a coun- 
 cil at Clarendon, in which certain regulations or constitu- 
 tions were drawn up, with the object of preventing the 
 encroachments of the hierarchy. Becket at first refused to 
 sign them, but at length consented, and then withdrew into 
 solitary retirement to mourn over his fault. Pope Alexan- 
 der III. released him from his oath ; and then began a fierce 
 and long struggle between the king and the primate. Four 
 knights of the court, catching up a hasty expression of their 
 master's, barbarously murdered the archbishop at the foot of 
 the altar in his. own cathedral church (A. D. 1170). The 
 people looked upon Becket as a saint : immense crowds 
 came to pray at his tomb, at which many miracles were 
 worked.* " Even from his grave," said Becket's partisans, 
 " he renders his testimony in behalf of the papacy." 
 
 Henry now passed from one extreme to the other. He 
 entered Canterbury barefooted, and prostrated himself be- 
 fore the martyr's tomb : the bishops, priests, and monks, to 
 the number of eighty, passed before him, each bearing a 
 scourge, and struck three or five blows according to their 
 rank on the naked shoulders of the king. In former ages, 
 so the priestly fable ran, Saint Peter had scourged an arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury : now Rome in sober reality scourges 
 the back of royalty, and nothing can henceforward check her 
 victorious career. A Plantagenet surrendered England to 
 
 * In loco passionis et ubi sepultus est, paralytici curantur, cceci videnl 
 surdi audiunt. Jolian. Salisb. Epp. 286,
 
 JOHN TEE POPE'S VASSAL. 73 
 
 the pope, and the pope gave him authority to subdue Ire- 
 land* 
 
 Rome, who had set her foot on the neck of a king, was 
 destined under one of the sons of Henry II. to set it on the 
 neck of England. John being unwilling to acknowledge an 
 archbishop of Canterbury illegally nominated by Pope In- 
 nocent III., the latter, more daring than Hildebrand, laid 
 the kingdom under an interdict. Upon this John ordered 
 all the prelates and abbots to leave England, and sent a 
 monk to Spain as ambassador to Mahomet-el-Nasir, offer- 
 ing to turn Mahometan and to become his vassal. But as 
 Philip Augustus was preparing to dethrone him, John made 
 up his mind to become a vassal of Innocent, and not of Ma- 
 homet which was about the same thing to him. On the 
 15th May 1213, he laid his crown at the legate's feet, de- 
 clared that he surrendered his kingdom of England to the 
 pope, and made oath to him as to his lord paramount. { 
 
 A national protest then boldly claimed the ancient liber- 
 ties of the people. Forty-five barons, armed in complete 
 mail, and mounted on their noble war-horses, surrounded by 
 their knights and servants and about two thousand soldiers, 
 met at Brackley during the festival of Easter in 1215, and 
 sent a deputation to Oxford, where the court then resided. 
 " Here," sakl they to the king, " is the charter which conse- 
 crates the liberties confirmed by Henry II., and which you 
 
 also have solemnly sworn to observe." "Why do they 
 
 not demand my crown also?" said the king in a furious 
 passion, and then with an oath,J: he added: "I will not 
 grant them liberties which will make me a slave." This is 
 the usual language of weak and absolute kings. Neither 
 would the nation submit to be enslaved. The barons occu- 
 pied London, and on the 15th June 1215, the king signed 
 the famous Magiia Charta at Runnymede. The political 
 
 * Significasti si quidem nobis, fill carissime, te Hiberniae insulam ad 
 subdendum ilium populum velle intrare, nos itaque gratum et acceptum 
 habemus ut pro dilatandis ecclesiae terminis insulam ingrediaris. Ad- 
 rian IV., Bulla 1154 in Rymer, Acta Publica. 
 
 + Resignavit coronam suam in manus domini papa;. Matth. ParL<, 
 J98et207. 
 
 J Cum juramento furibunds. Ibid. 213 
 
 4* D
 
 74 POPERY AND LIBERTY IN COLLISION. 
 
 protestantism of the thirteenth century would have done but 
 little, however, for the greatness of the nation, without the 
 religious protestantism of the sixteenth. 
 
 This was the first time that the papacy came into collision 
 with modern liberty. It shuddered in alarm, and the shock 
 was violent. Innocent swore (as was his custom), and then 
 declared the Great Charter null and void, forbade the king 
 under pain of anathema to respect the liberties which he 
 had confirmed,* ascribed the conduct of the barons to the in- 
 stigation of Satan, and ordered them to make apology to the 
 king, and to send a deputation to Rome to learn from the 
 mouth of the pope himself what should be the government 
 of England. This was the way in which the papacy wel- 
 comed the first manifestations of liberty among the na- 
 tions, and made known the model system under which it 
 claimed to govern the whole world. 
 
 The priests of England supported the anathemas pro- 
 nounced by their chief. They indulged in a thousand jeers 
 and sarcasms against John about the charter he had ac- 
 cepted : " This is the twenty-fifth king of England not a 
 king, not even a kingling but the disgrace of kings a 
 king without a kingdom the fifth wheel of a waggon the 
 last of kings, and the disgrace of his people ! I would not 
 
 give a straw for him Fuisti rex nunc fex, (once a king, 
 
 but now a clown.)" John, unable to support his disgrace, 
 groaned and gnashed his teeth and rolled his eyes, tore 
 sticks from the hedges and gnawed them like a maniac, or 
 dashed them into fragments on the ground, f 
 
 The barons, unmoved alike by the insolence of the pope 
 and the despair of the king, replied that they would maintain 
 the charter. Innocent excommunicated them. "Is it the 
 pope's business to regulate temporal matters?" asked they. 
 " By what right do vile usurers and foul simoniac& domineer 
 over our country and excommunicate the whole world ? " 
 
 The pope soon triumphed throughout England. His vas- 
 
 * Sub intimatione anathematis prohibentes ne dictus rex earn obser- 
 vare praesumat. Matth. Paris, 224. 
 
 t Arreptos baculos et stipites more furiosi nunc corrodere, nunc corro- 
 BOS confringere. Ibid. 222,
 
 JOHN RAVAGES ENGLAND HIS DEATH. 75 
 
 flal John, having hired some bands of adventurers from the 
 continent, traversed at their head the whole country from the 
 Channel to the Forth. These mercenaries carried desolation 
 in their track : they extorted money, made prisoners, burnt 
 the barons' castles, laid waste their parks, and dishonoured 
 their wives and daughters.* The king would sleep in a 
 house, and the next morning set fire to it. Blood-stained 
 assassins scoured the country during the night, the sword in 
 one hand and the torch in the other, marking their progress 
 by murder and conflagration. 7 Such was the enthroniza- 
 tion of popery in England. At this sight the barons, over- 
 come by emotion, denounced both the king and the pope : 
 "Alas! poor country!" they exclaimed. "Wretched Eng- 
 land! And thou, pope, a curse light upon thee!"J 
 
 The curse was not long delayed. As the king was re- 
 turning from some more than usually successful foray, and 
 AS the royal waggons were crossing the sands of the Wash, 
 the tide rose and all sank in the abyss. This accident 
 filled John with terror : it seemed to him that the earth was 
 about to open and swallow him up ; he fled to a convent, 
 where he drank copiously of cider, and died of drunkenness 
 and fright. || 
 
 Such was the end of the pope's vassal of his armed 
 missionary in Great Britain. Never had so vile a prince 
 been the involuntary occasion to his people of such great 
 benefits. From his reign England may date her enthusiasm 
 for liberty and her dread of popery. 
 
 During -this time a great transformation had been accom- 
 plished. Magnificent churches and the marvels of religious 
 art, with ceremonies and a multitude of prayers and chant- 
 ings dazzled the eyes, charmed the ears, and captivated the 
 senses; but testified also to the absence of every strong 
 
 * Uxores et filiaa suas ludibrio expositas. Matth. Paris, 231. 
 
 + Discurrebant sicarii caede humana cruentati, noctivagi, incendiafii, 
 strictis ensibus. Ibid. 
 
 Sic barones lacrymantcs et lamentantes regem et papam maledix- 
 erunt. Ibid. 234. 
 
 Aperta est in mediis fluctibus terra et Yoraginis abyssus, quse ab- 
 sorbuerunt universa cum hominibus et equis. Ibid. 242. 
 
 y Novi ciceris potatione nimis repletus. Ibid. 1216.
 
 76 REACTION. 
 
 moral and Christian disposition, and the predominance of 
 worldliness in the church. At the same time the adoration 
 of images and relics, saints, angels, and Mary the mother of 
 God, the worships of latria, doulia, and Tiyperdoulia* the 
 real Mediator transported from the throne of mercy to the 
 seat of vengeance, at once indicated and kept up among the 
 people that ignorance of truth and absence of grace which 
 characterize popery. All these errors tended to bring about 
 a reaction : and in fact the march of the Eeformation may 
 now be said to begin. 
 
 England had been, brought low by the papacy: it rose up 
 again by resisting Eome. Grostete, Bradwardine, and Ed- 
 ward III. prepared the way for Wickliffe, and Wickliffe for 
 the Reformation. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Reaction Grostete Principles of Reform Contest with the Pope 
 Sewal Progress of the Nation Opposition to the Papacy Conver- 
 sion of Bradwardine Grace is Supreme Edward III. Statutes of 
 Provisors and PrtBmunire. 
 
 IN the reign of Henry III., son of John, while the king was 
 conniving at the usurpations of Rome, and the pope ridicul- 
 ing the complaints of the barons, a pious and energetic man, 
 of comprehensive understanding, was occupied in the study 
 of the Holy Scriptures in their original languages, and bow- 
 ing to their sovereign authority. Robert Grostfite (Great- 
 head or Capita] was born of poor parents in the county of 
 Lincolnshire, and being raised to the see of Lincoln in 1235, 
 when he was sixty years of age, he boldly undertook to 
 reform his diocese, one of the largest in England. Nor 
 was this all. At the very time when the Roman pontiff, 
 who had hitherto been content to be called the vicar of Saint 
 
 * The Romish church distinguishes three kinds of worship : latria, 
 that paid to God ; doulia* to saints ; and hyperdoulia, to the Virgin 
 Mary.
 
 QROSTETE REFORMING PRINCIPLES. 77 
 
 Peter, proclaimed himself the yicar of God,* and was order- 
 ing the English bishops to find benefices for three hun- 
 dred Romans^ Grostete was declaring, that " to follow a 
 pope who rebels against the will of Christ, is to separate 
 from Christ and his body ; and if ever the time should come 
 when all men follow an erring pontiff, then will be the great 
 apostasy. Then will true Christians refuse to obey, and 
 Rome will be the cause of an unprecedented schism." J Thus 
 did he predict the Reformation. Disgusted at the avarice of 
 the monks and priests, he visited Rome to demand a reform. 
 " Brother," said Innocent IV. to him with some irritation, 
 " 7s thine eye evil because I am good ? " The English 
 bishop exclaimed with a sigh : " money, money ! how 
 great is thy power especially in this court of Rome ! " 
 
 A year had scarcely elapsed before Innocent commanded 
 the bishop to give a canonry in Lincoln cathedral to his in- 
 fant nephew. Grostete replied : " After the sin of Lucifei 
 there is none more opposed to the gospel than that which 
 ruins souls by giving them a faithless minister. Bad pas- 
 tors are the cause of unbelief, heresy, and disorder. Those 
 who introduce them into the church are little better than 
 antichrists, and their culpability is in proportion to their 
 dignity. Although the chief of the angels should order me 
 to commit such a sin, I would refuse. My obedience forbids 
 me to obey ; and therefore I rebel." 
 
 Thus spoke a bishop to his pontiff: his obedience to the 
 word of God forbade him to obey the pope. This was the 
 principle of the Reformation. " Who is this old driveller 
 that in his dotage dares to judge of my conduct ? " exclaimed 
 Innocent, whose wrath was appeased by the intervention of 
 certain cardinals. Grostete on his dying bed professed still 
 
 Non puri hominis sed reri Dei viccm gerit in terris. Innocent III. 
 Epp. lib. vi. i. 335. 
 
 t Ut trecentis Romania in primis beneficiis vacantibus providerent. 
 Matth. Paris, ann. 1240. 
 
 J Absit et quod ha?c scdes ct in ea proesidentes causa sint schismatis 
 
 apparcntis. Ortinnus Gratius, ed. Brown, fol. 251. 
 
 Obedienter non obedio sed contradico et rcbello. Matth. Paris, ad. 
 aim. 1252.
 
 78 COKTEST WITH THE POPE PROGRESS OF THE NATION. 
 
 more clearly the principles of the reformers ; he declared that 
 a heresy was " an opinion conceived by carnal motives, con- 
 trary to Scripture, openly taught and obstinately defended," 
 thus asserting the authority of Scripture instead of the 
 authority of the church. He died in peace, and the public 
 voice proclaimed him " a searcher of the Scriptures, an ad- 
 versary of the pope, and despiser of the Romans." * Inno- 
 cent, desiring to take vengeance on his bones, meditated the 
 exhumation of his body, when one night (says Matthew of 
 Paris) the bishop appeared before him. Drawing near the 
 pontiff's bed, he struck him with his crosier, and thus 
 addressed him with terrible voice and threatening look : -J- 
 '' Wretch ! the Lord doth not permit thee to .have any power 
 over me. Woe be to thee ! " The vision disappeared, and 
 the pope, uttering a cry as if he had been struck by some 
 sharp weapon, lay senseless on his couch. Never after did 
 he pass a quiet night, and pursued by the phantoms of his 
 troubled imagination, he expired while the palace re-echoed 
 with his lamentable groans. 
 
 Grostete was not single in his opposition to the pope. 
 Sewal, archbishop of York, did the same, and " the more 
 the pope cursed him, the more the people blessed him." \ 
 " Moderate your tyranny," said the archbishop to the pon- 
 tiff, "for the Lord said to Peter, Feed my sheep, and not 
 shear them, flay them, or devour them" The pope smiled 
 and let the bishop speak, because the king allowed the pope 
 to act. The power of England, which was constantly in- 
 creasing, was soon able to give more force to these protests. 
 
 The nation was indeed growing in greatness. The mad- 
 ness of John, which had caused the English people to lose 
 
 * Scripturarum sedulus perscrutator diversarum, Romanorum malleus 
 et contemptor. Matth. Paris, vol. ii. p. 876, fol. Lond. 1640. Sixteen 
 of his writings (Sermones et epistolse) will bo found in Brown, app. ad 
 Fasciculum. 
 
 f Nocte apparuit ei episcopus vultu severe, intuitu austero, ac voce 
 terribili. Ibid. 883. 
 
 t Quanto magis a papa maledicebatur,tanto plus a populo benediceba- 
 tur. Ibid, ad ann. 1257. 
 
 Pasce oves meas, non tonde, non excoria, non eviscera, vel devorando 
 <> tisume. Ibid, ad ann. 1258.
 
 OPPOSITION TO THE PAPACY. 79 
 
 their continental possessions, had given them more unity 
 and power. The Norman kings, being compelled to renounce 
 entirely the country which had been their cradle, had at 
 length made up their minds to look upon England as their 
 home. The two races, so long hostile, melted one into the 
 other. Free institutions were formed ; the laws were studied; 
 and colleges were founded. The language began to assume 
 a regular form, and the ships of England were already for- 
 midable at sea. For more than a century the most brilliant 
 victories attended the British armies. A king of France 
 was brought captive to London : an English king was 
 crowned at Paris. Even Spain and Italy felt the valour of 
 these proud islanders. The English people took their station 
 in the foremost rank. Now the character of a nation is 
 never raised by halves. When the mighty ones of the 
 earth were seen to fall before her, England could no longer 
 crawl at the feet of an Italian priest. 
 
 At no period did her laws attack the papacy with so much 
 energy. At the beginning of the fourteenth century an Eng- 
 lishman having brought to London one of the pope's bulls 
 a bull of an entirely spiritual character, it was an excom- 
 munication was prosecuted as a traitor to the crown, and 
 would have been hanged, had not the sentence, at the chan- 
 cellor's intercession, been changed to perpetual banishment.* 
 The common law was the weapon the government then op- 
 posed to the papal bulls. Shortly afterwards, in 1307, King 
 Edward ordered the sheriffs to resist the arrogant pretensions 
 of the Romish agents. But it is to two great men in the 
 fourteenth century, equally illustrious, the one in the state, 
 and the other in the church, that England is indebted for the 
 development of the protestant element in England. 
 
 In 1346, an English army, 34,000 strong, met face to face 
 at Crecy a French army of 100,000 fighting men. Two in- 
 dividuals of very different characters were in the English 
 host. One of them was King Edward III., a brave and am- 
 bitious prince, who, being resolved to recover for the royal 
 authority all its power, and for England all her glory, had 
 
 " Fuller's Church History, cent. xiv. p. 90, fol. Lond. 1655.
 
 80 BRADWARDINE 's CONVERSION. 
 
 undertaken the conquest of France. The other was his 
 chaplain Bradwardine, a man of so humble a character that 
 his meekness was often taken for stupidity. And thus it 
 was that on his receiving the pallium at Avignon from the 
 hands of the pope on his elev.ation to the see of Canterbury, 
 a jester mounted on an ass rode into the hall and petitioned 
 thepontiffto make him primate msiea.d of that imbecile priest. 
 Bradwardine was one of the most pious men of the age, 
 and to his prayers his sovereign's victories were ascribed. 
 He was also one of the greatest geniuses of his time, and 
 occupied the first rank among astronomers, philosophers, and 
 mathematicians.* The pride of science had at first alienated 
 him from the doctrine of the cross. But one day while in 
 the house of God and listening to the reading of the Holy 
 Scriptures, these words struck his ear : It is not of him that 
 tvilleth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth 
 mercy. His ungrateful heart, he tells us, at first rejected this 
 humiliating doctrine with aversion. Yet the word of God 
 had laid its powerful hold upon him ; he was converted to 
 the truths he had despised, and immediately began to set 
 forth the doctrines of eternal grace at Merton College, 
 Oxford. He had drunk so deep at the fountain of Scripture 
 that the traditions of men concerned him but little, and he 
 was so absorbed in adoration in spirit and in truth, that he 
 remarked not outward superstitions. His lectures were 
 eagerly listened to and circulated through all Europe. The 
 grace of God was their very essence, as it was of the Refor- 
 mation. With sorrow Bradwardine beheld Pelagianism 
 everywhere substituting a mere religion of externals for 
 inward Christianity, and on his knees he struggled for the 
 salvation of the church. "As in the times of old, four 
 hundred and fifty prophets of Baal strove against a single 
 prophet of God ; so now, Lord," he exclaimed, " the num- 
 ber of those who strive with Pelagius against thy free grace 
 cannot be counted. t They pretend not to receive grace 
 
 * His Arithmetic and Geometry have been published ; but I am 
 not aware if that is the case with his Astronomical Tables. 
 
 t Quot, Domine, hodie cum Pelagio pro hbero arbitrio contra gra- 
 tuitam gratiam tuam pugnant? De causa Dei atlversus Pelagium, 
 Hbritres, Lond. 1618.
 
 EDWARD HI. 81 
 
 freely, but to buy it.* The will of men (they say) should 
 precede, and thine should follow : theirs is the mistress, and 
 
 thine the servantf Alas! nearly the whole world is 
 
 walking in error in the steps of Pelagius.J Arise, Lord, 
 and judge thy cause." And the Lord did arise, but not until 
 after the death of this pious archbishop in the days of 
 Wickliffe, who, when a youth, listened to the lectures at 
 Merton College and especially in the days of Luther and 
 of Calvin. His contemporaries gave him the name of the 
 profound doctor. 
 
 If Bradwardine walked truthfully in the path of faith, his 
 illustrious patron Edward advanced triumphantly in the 
 field of policy. Pope Clement IV. having decreed that the 
 first two vacancies in the Anglican church should be con- 
 ferred on two of his cardinals : " France is becoming Eng- 
 lish" said the courtiers to the king : " and by way of com- 
 pensation, England is becoming Italian." Edward, desirous 
 of guaranteeing the religious liberties of England, passed 
 with the consent of parliament in 1350 the statute of Pro- 
 visors, which made void every ecclesiastical appointment 
 contrary to the rights of the king, the chapters, or the patrons. 
 Thus the privileges of the chapters and the liberty of the 
 English Catholics, as well as the independence of the crown, 
 were protected against the invasion of foreigners ; and im- 
 prisonment or banishment for life was denounced upon all 
 offenders against the law. 
 
 This bold step alarmed the pontiff. Accordingly, three 
 years after, the king having nominated one of his secretaries 
 to the see of Durham a man without any of the qualities 
 becoming a bishop the pope readily confirmed the appoint- 
 ment. When some one expressed his astonishment at this, 
 the pope made answer : " If the king of England had nomi- 
 nated an ass, I would have accepted him." This may re- 
 mind us of the ass of Avignon ; and it would seem that this 
 humble animal at that time played a significant part in the 
 
 * Ncquaquam gratuita scd vcmlita. Do causa* Dei advcrsns Pelagium, 
 libri tres, Lond. 1618. ^^~ 
 
 f Suamvoluntatem pra:ireutdominam,tuamsubsequiutanciliam. Ibid 
 % Totus paene mundua post Pelagium abiit in errorem. Ibid. 
 
 D2
 
 82 STATUTES OF PROVISOES AND PE^EMUNIRK. 
 
 elections to the papacy. But be that as it may, the pope 
 withdrew his pretensions. " Empires have their term," ob- 
 serves an historian at this place ; " when once they have 
 reached it, they halt, they retrograde, they fall."* 
 
 The term seemed to be drawing nearer every day. In the 
 reign of Edward III., between 1343 and 1353, again in 1364, 
 and finally under Richard II. in 1393, those stringent laws 
 were passed which interdicted all appeal to the court of 
 Rome, all bulls from the Roman bishop, all excommunica- 
 tions, &c., in a word, every act infringing on the rights of 
 the crown; and declared that whoever should bring such 
 documents into England, or receive, publish, or execute 
 them, should be put out of the king's protection, deprived of 
 their property, attached in their persons, and brought before 
 the king in council to undergo their trial according to the 
 terms of the act. Such was the statute of Prcemunire. -\- 
 
 Great was the indignation of the Romans at the news of 
 this law : " If the statute of mortmain put the pope into a 
 sweat," says Fuller, " this of prcemunire gave him a fit of 
 fever." One pope called it an " execrable statute," " a 
 horrible crime."J Such are the terms applied by the pon- 
 tiffs to all that thwarts their ambition. 
 
 Of the two wars carried on by Edward the one against 
 the king of France, and the other against popery the latter 
 was the most righteous and important. The benefits which 
 this prince had hoped to derive from his brilliant victories at 
 Crecy and Poitiers dwindled away almost entirely before his 
 death ; while his struggles with the papacy, founded as they 
 were on truth, have exerted even to our own days an indis- 
 putable influence on the destinies of Great Britain. Yet the 
 prayers and the conquests of Bradwardine, who proclaimed 
 
 * Habent imperia sues terminos ; hue cum venerint, sistunt, retro 
 cedunt, ruunt. Fuller's Hist. cent. xiv. p. 116. 
 
 f The most natural meaning of the word prcemunire (given more par- 
 ticuarly to the act of 1393) seems to be that suggested by Fuller, cent. 
 xiv. (p. 148) : to fence and fortify the regal power from foreign assault 
 See the whole bill, ibid. p. 145-147. 
 
 J Execrabile statutum fcedum et turpe facinus. Martin V. to the 
 
 Duke of Bedford, Fuller, cent, xiv p. 148.
 
 THE BEGGING FRIARS. 83 
 
 in that fallen age the doctrine of grace, produced effects still 
 greater, not only for the salvation of many souls, but for the 
 liberty, moral force, and greatness of England. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Mendicant Friars Their Disorders and Popular Indignation 
 Wickliffe His Success Speeches of the Peers against the Papal Tri- 
 bute Agreement of Bruges Courtenay and Lancaster WicklifFe 
 before the Convocation Altercation between Lancaster and Cour- 
 tenay Riot Three Briefs against Wickliffe Wickliffe at Lambeth 
 Mission of the Poor Prietts Their Preachings and Persecutions 
 Wickliffe and the Four Regents. 
 
 THUS in the first half of the fourteenth century, nearly two 
 hundred years before the Reformation, England appeared 
 weary of the yoke of Rome. Bradwardine was no more ; 
 but a man who had been his disciple was about to succeed 
 him, and without attaining to the highest functions, to ex- 
 hibit in his person the past and future tendencies of the 
 church of Christ in Great Britain. The English Reforma- 
 tion did not begin with Henry VIII. : the revival of the 
 sixteenth century is but a link in the chain commencing 
 with the apostles and reaching to us. 
 
 The resistance of Edward III. to the papacy without had 
 not suppressed the papacy within. The mendicant friars, 
 and particularly the Franciscans, those fanatical soldiers of 
 the pope, were endeavouring by pious frauds to monopolize 
 the wealth of the country. " Every year," said they, " Saint 
 Francis descends from heaven to purgatory, and delivers the 
 souls of all those who were buried in the dress of his order." 
 These friars used to kidnap children from their parents and 
 shut them up in monasteries. They affected to be poor, and 
 with a wallet on their back, begged with a piteous air from 
 both high and low ; but at the same time they dwelt in 
 palaces, heaped up treasures, dressed in costly garments,
 
 84 INDIGNATION AGAINST THEIR DISORDER 
 
 and wasted their time in luxurious entertainmc., <.* The 
 least of them looked upon themselves as lords, and those 
 who wore the doctor's cap considered themselves kings. 
 While they diverted themselves, eating and drinking at 
 their well-spread tables, they used to send ignorant un- 
 educated persons in their place to preach fables and legends 
 to amuse and plunder the people. t If any rich man talked 
 of giving alms to the poor and not to the monks, they ex- 
 claimed loudly against such impiety, and declared with 
 threatening voice : " If you do so we will leave the country, 
 and return accompanied by a legion of glittering helmets. "t 
 Public indignation was at its height. " The monks and 
 priests of Rome," was the cry, " are eating us away like a 
 
 cancer. God must deliver us or the people will perish 
 
 Woe be to them ! the cup of wrath will run over. Men 
 of holy church shall be despised as carrion, as dogs shall 
 they be cast out in open places."^ 
 
 The arrogance of Rome made the cup run over. Pope 
 Urban V., heedless of the laurels Avon by the conqueror at 
 Crecy and Poitiers, summoned Edward III. to recognise 
 him as legitimate sovereign of England, and to pay as feu- 
 dal tribute the annual rent of one thousand marcs. In case 
 of refusal the king was to appear before him at Rome. 
 For thirty-three years the popes had never mentioned the 
 tribute accorded by John to Innocent III., and which had 
 always been paid very irregularly. The conqueror of the 
 Valois was irritated by this insolence on the part of an 
 Italian bishop, and called on God to avenge England. 
 From Oxford came forth the avenger. 
 
 John Wickliffe, born in 1324, in a little village in York- 
 shire, was one of the students who attended the lectures of 
 the pious Bradwardine at Merton College. He was in the 
 flower of his age, and produced a great sensation in the uni- 
 versity. In 1348, a terrible pestilence, which is said to have 
 
 * When they have overmuch riches, both in great waste houses 
 and precious clothes, in great feasts and many jewels and treasures. 
 Wickliffe's Tracts and Treatises, edited by the Wickliffe Society, p. 224. 
 
 t Ibid r 240. t Come again with bright heads. Ibid. 
 
 WickluTe, The Last Age of the Church.
 
 JOHN WICKLIFFE. 85 
 
 carried off half the human race, appeared in England after 
 successively devastating Asia and the continent of Europe. 
 This visitation of the Almighty sounded like the trumpet 
 of the judgment-day in the heart of Wickliffe. Alarmed 
 at the thoughts of eternity, the young man for he was 
 then only twenty-four years old passed days and nights 
 in his cell groaning and sighing, and calling upon God to 
 show him the path he ought to follow.* He found it in the 
 Holy Scriptures, and resolved to make it known to others. 
 He commenced with prudence; but being elected in 1361 
 warden of Balliol, and in 1365 warden of Canterbury Col- 
 lege also, he began to set forth the doctrine of faith in a 
 more energetic manner. His biblical and philosophical 
 studies, his knowledge of theology, his penetrating mind, the 
 purity of his manners, and his unbending courage, rendered 
 him the object of general admiration. A profound teacher, 
 like his master, and an eloquent preacher, he demonstrated 
 to the learned during the course of the week what he intended 
 to preach, and on Sunday he preached to the people what he 
 had previously demonstrated. His disputations gave strength 
 to his sermons, and his sermons shed light upon his dispu- 
 tations. He accused the clergy of having banished the 
 Holy Scriptures, and required that the authority of the word 
 of God should be re-established in the church. Loud accla- 
 mations crowned these discussions, and the crowd of vulgar 
 minds trembled with indignation when they heard these 
 shouts of applause. 
 
 Wickliffe was forty years old when the papal arrogance 
 stirred England to its depths. Being at once an able politi- 
 cian and a fervent Christian, he vigorously defended the 
 rights of the crown against the Romish aggression, and by 
 his arguments not only enlightened his fellow-countrymen 
 generally, but stirred up the zeal of several members of both 
 houses of parliament. 
 
 The parliament assembled, and never perhaps had it been 
 summoned on a question which excited to so high a degree 
 the emotions of England, and indeed of Christendom. The 
 
 * Long debating and deliberating with himself, with many secret sighs. 
 Foxe, Acts and Monument?, i. p. 485, fol. Loud. 1684.
 
 86 THE LORDS AGAINST THE PAPAL TRIBUTE. 
 
 debates in the House of Lords were especially remarkable : 
 all the arguments of Wickliffe were reproduced. " Feudal 
 tribute is due," said one, " only to him who can grant feudal 
 protection in return. Now how can the pope wage war to 
 protect his fiefs ?" " Is it as vassal of the crown or as feudal 
 superior," asked another, " that the pope demands part of 
 our property ? Urban V. will not accept the first of these 
 
 titles Well and good! but the English people will not 
 
 acknowledge the second." " Why," said a third, " was this 
 tribute originally granted ? To pay the pope for absolving 
 John His demand, then, is mere simony, a kind of cleri- 
 cal swindling, which the lords spiritual and temporal should 
 indignantly oppose." " No," said another speaker, " England 
 belongs not to the pope. The pope is but a man, subject to 
 sin ; but .Christ is the Lord of lords, and this kingdom is 
 held directly and solely of Christ alone."* Thus spoke the 
 lords inspired by Wickliffe. Parliament decided unanimously 
 that no prince had the right to alienate the sovereignty of 
 the kingdom without the consent of the other two estates, 
 and that if the pontiff should attempt to proceed against the 
 king of England as his vassal, the nation should rise in a 
 body to maintain the independence of the crown. 
 ' To no purpose did this generous resolution excite the 
 wrath of the partisans of Eome ; to no purpose did they as- 
 sert that, by the canon law, the king ought to be deprived 
 of his fief, and that England now belonged to the pope : 
 " No," replied Wickliffe, " the canon law has no force when it 
 is opposed to the word of God." Edward III. made Wickliffe 
 one of his chaplains, and the papacy has ceased from that 
 hour to lay claim in explicit terms at least to the sove- 
 reignty of England. 
 
 When the pope gave up his temporal he was desirous, at 
 the very least, of keeping up his ecclesiastical pretensions, 
 and to procure the repeal of the statutes of Prcemunire and 
 Provisors. It was accordingly resolved to hold a conference 
 
 * These opinions are reported by Wickliffe, in a treatise preserved in the 
 Selden MSS. and printed by Mr J. Lewis, in his History of Wickliffe, 
 App. No 30, p. 349. He was present during the debate ; quam audivi in 
 juodam concilia a dominis secularibvs.
 
 AGREEMENT OF BRUGES COURTENAY AND LANCASTER. 87 
 
 at Bruges to treat of this question, and Wickliffe, who had 
 been created doctor of theology two years before, proceeded 
 thither with the other commissioners in April 1374. They 
 came to an arrangement in 1375 that the king should bind 
 himself to repeal the penalties denounced against the ponti- 
 fical agents, and that the pope should confirm the king's 
 ecclesiastical presentations.* But the nation was not pleased 
 with this compromise. " The clerks sent from Rome," said 
 the Commons, " are more dangerous for the kingdom than 
 Jews or Saracens ; every papal agent resident in England, 
 and every Englishman living at the court of Rome, should 
 be punished with death." Such was the language of the 
 Good Parliament. In the fourteenth century the English 
 nation called a parliament good which did not yield to the 
 papacy. 
 
 Wickliffe, after his return to England, was presented to 
 the rectory of Lutterworth, and from that time a practical 
 activity was added to his academic influence. At Oxford he 
 spoke as a master to the young theologians ; in his parish 
 he addressed the people as a preacher and as a pastor. 
 " The Gospel," said he, " is the only source of religion. The 
 Roman pontiff is a mere cut-purse,f and, far from having 
 the right to reprimand the whole world, he may be lawfully 
 reproved by his inferiors, and even by laymen." 
 
 The papacy grew alarmed. Courtenay, son of the Earl of 
 Devonshire, an imperious but grave priest, and full of zeal 
 for what he believed to be the truth, had recently been ap- 
 pointed to the see of London. In parliament he had resisted 
 Wickliffe's patron, John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, third 
 son of Edward III., and head of the house of that name. 
 The bishop, observing that the doctrines of the reformer 
 were spreading among the people, both high and low, 
 charged him with heresy, and summoned him to appear 
 before the convocation assembled in St Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 On the 19th February 1377, an immense crowd, heated 
 with fanaticism, thronged the approaches to the church and 
 
 * Rymer, yii. p. 33, 83-88. 
 
 t The proud worldly priest of Rome, and the most cursed of clippers 
 and purse-kervers. Lewis, History of Wickliffe, p. 37. Oxford, 1820.
 
 88 WICKXIFFE BEFORE THE CONVOCATION. 
 
 filled its aisles, while the citizens favourable to the Reform 
 remained concealed in their houses. Wickliffe moved for- 
 ward, preceded by Lord Percy, marshal of England, and sup- 
 ported by the Duke of Lancaster, who defended him from 
 purely political motives. He was followed by four bachelors 
 of divinity, his counsel, and passed through the hostile mul- 
 titude, who looked upon Lancaster as the enemy of their 
 liberties, and upon himself as the enemy of the church. 
 11 Let not the sight of these bishops make you shrink a 
 hair's breadth in your profession of faith," said the prince to 
 the doctor. " They are unlearned ; and as for this concourse 
 of people, fear nothing, we are here to defend you."* When 
 the reformer had crossed the threshold of the cathedral, the 
 crowd within appeared like a solid wall ; and, notwithstand- 
 ing the efforts of the earl-marshal, Wickliffe and Lancaster 
 could not advance. The people swayed to and fro, hands 
 were raised in violence, and loud hootings re-echoed through 
 the building. At length Percy made an opening in the 
 dense multitude, and Wickliffe passed on. 
 
 The haughty Courtenay, who had been commissioned by 
 the archbishop to preside over the assembly, watched these 
 strange movements with anxiety, and beheld with displeas- 
 ure the learned doctor accompanied by the two most power- 
 ful .men in England. He said nothing to the Duke of Lan- 
 caster, who at that time administered the kingdom, but turn- 
 ing towards Percy observed sharply : " If I had known, my 
 lord, that you claimed to be master in this church, I would 
 have taken measures to prevent your entrance." Lancaster 
 coldly rejoined : " He shall keep such mastery here, though 
 you say nay." Percy now turned to Wickliffe, who had re- 
 mained standing, and said : " Sit down and rest yourself." 
 At this Courtenay gave way to his anger, and exclaimed in 
 a loud tone : " He must not sit down ; criminals stand be- 
 fore their judges." Lancaster, indignant that a learned doc- 
 tor of England should be refused a favour to which his age 
 alone entitled him (for he was between fifty and sixty) made 
 answer to the bishop : " My lord, you are very arrogant ; 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, i. p. 487, fol. Loud. 1684.
 
 ALTERCATION. 89 
 
 take care or I may bring down your pride, and not yours 
 
 only, but that of all the prelacy in England."* " Do me all 
 the harm you can," was Courtenay's haughty reply. The 
 prince rejoined with some emotion : " You are insolent, my 
 lord. You think, no doubt, you can trust on your family 
 
 but your relations will have trouble enough to protect 
 
 themselves." To this the bishop nobly replied : " My con- 
 fidence is not in my parents nor in any man ; but only in 
 God, in whom I trust, and by whose assistance I will be bold 
 to speak the truth." Lancaster, who saw hypocrisy only in 
 these words, turned to one of his attendants, and whispered 
 in his ear, but so loud as to be heard by the bystanders : " I 
 would rather pluck the bishop by the hair of his head out of 
 his chair, than take this at his hands." Every impartial 
 reader must confess that the prelate spoke with greater dig- 
 nity than the prince. Lancaster had hardly uttered these 
 imprudent words before the bishop's partisans fell upon him 
 and Percy, and even upon Wickliffe, who alone had remained 
 calm.-j- The two noblemen resisted, their friends and ser- 
 vants defended them, the uproar became extreme, and there 
 was no hope of restoring tranquillity. The two lords escaped 
 with difficulty, and the assembly broke up in great confu- 
 sion. 
 
 On the following day the earl-marshal having called upon 
 parliament to apprehend the disturbers of the public peace, 
 the clerical party, uniting with the enemies of Lancaster, 
 filled the streets with their clamour ; and while the duke and 
 the earl escaped by the Thames, the mob collected before 
 Percy's house broke down the doors, searched every cham- 
 ber, and thrust their swords into every dark corner. "When 
 they found that he had escaped, the rioters, imagining that 
 he was concealed in Lancaster's palace, rushed to the Savoy, 
 at that time the most magnificent building in the kingdom. 
 They killed a priest who endeavoured to stay them, tore 
 down the ducal arms, and hung them on the gallows like 
 those of a traitor. They would have gone still farther if the 
 bishop had not very opportunely reminded them that they 
 
 Fuller, Church Hist. cent. xiv. p. 135. 
 t Fall furiously on the lords. Ibid. 136 
 VOL. V. 5
 
 90 RIOT WICKLIFFE AT LAMBETH. 
 
 were in Lent. As for "Wickliffe, he was dismissed with an 
 injunction against preaching his doctrines. 
 
 But this decision of the priests was not ratified by the 
 people of England. Public opinion declared in favour of 
 Wickliffe. "If he is guilty," said they, "why is he not 
 punished ? If he is innocent, why is he ordered to be silent ? 
 If he is the weakest in power, he is the strongest in truth !" 
 And so indeed he was, and never had he spoken with such 
 energy. He openly attacked the pretended apostolical chair, 
 and declared that the two antipopes who sat at Rome and 
 Avignon together made one antichrist. Being now in oppo- 
 sition to the pope, Wickliffe was soon to confess that Christ 
 alone was king of the church ; and that it is not possible for 
 a man to be excommunicated, unless first and principally he 
 be excommunicated by himself.* 
 
 Rome could not close her ears. Wickliffe's enemies sent 
 thither nineteen propositions which they ascribed to him, 
 and in the month of June 1377, just as Richard II., son of 
 the Black Prince, a child eleven years old, was ascending 
 the throne, three letters from Gregory XI., addressed to the 
 king, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the university of 
 Oxford, denounced Wickliffe as a heretic, and called upon 
 them to proceed against him as against a common thief. 
 The archbishop issued the citation : the crown and the uni- 
 versity were silent. 
 
 On the appointed day, "Wickliffe, unaccompanied by either 
 Lancaster or Percy, proceeded to the archiepiscopal chapel 
 at Lambeth. " Men expected he should be devoured," says 
 an historian ; "being brought into the lion's den."-}- But 
 the burgesses had taken the prince's place. The assault of 
 Rome had aroused the friends of liberty and truth in Eng- 
 land. " The pope's briefs," said they, " ought to have no 
 effect in the realm without the king's consent. Every man 
 is master in his own house." 
 
 The archbishop had scarcely opened the sitting, when Sir 
 Louis Clifford entered the chapel, and forbade the court, on 
 the part of the queen-mother, to proceed against the re- 
 
 * Vaughan's Wickliffe, Appendix, vol. i. p. 434. 
 t Fuller's Church Hist. cent. xiv. p. 137.
 
 MISSION OF THE POOR PRIESTS. 91 
 
 former. The bishops were struck with a panic-fear ; " they 
 bent their heads," says a Roman-catholic historian, " like a 
 reed before the wind."* Wickliffe retired after handing in 
 a protest. " In the first place," said he, " I resolve with my 
 whole heart, and by the grace of God, to be a sincere Chris- 
 tian ; and, while my life shall last, to profess and defend the 
 law of Christ so far as I have power." -j- "Wickliffe's enemies 
 attacked this protest, and one of them eagerly maintained 
 that whatever the pope ordered should be looked upon as 
 right. "What!" answered the reformer; "the pope may 
 then exclude from the canon of the Scriptures any book that 
 displeases him, and alter the Bible at pleasure?" Wickliffe 
 thought that Rome, unsettling the grounds of infallibility, 
 had transferred it from the Scriptures to the pope, and was 
 desirous of restoring it to its true place, and re-establishing 
 authority in the church on a truly divine foundation. 
 
 A great change was now taking place in the reformer. 
 Busying himself less about the kingdom of England, he 
 occupied himself more about the kingdom of Christ. In him 
 the political phasis was followed by the religious. To carry 
 the glad tidings of the gospel into the remotest hamlets, 
 was now the great idea which possessed Wickliffe. If 
 begging friars (said he| stroll over the country, preaching 
 the legends of saints and the history of the Trojan war, we 
 must do for God's glory what they do to fill their wallets, 
 and form a vast itinerant evangelization to convert souls to 
 Jesus Christ. Turning to the most pious of his disciples, 
 he said to them : " Go and preach, it is the sublimest work ; 
 but imitate not the priests whom we see after the sermon 
 sitting in the alehouses, or at the gaming-table, or wasting 
 their time in hunting. After your sermon is ended, do you 
 visit the sick, the aged, the poor, the blind, and the lame, 
 and succour them according to your ability." Such was the 
 new practical theology which Wickliffe inaugurated it was 
 that of Christ himself. 
 
 * Walsingham, Hist. Anglioe Major, p. 203. 
 
 f 1 Propono et rolo ease ex integro Christianus, et quamdiu manscrit in 
 me halitus, profitens Yerbo et opere legem Christ!. Vaughan's Wickliffe, 
 i. D. 426.
 
 92 PREACHING AND PERSECUTION. 
 
 The " poor priests," as they were called, set off barefoot, a 
 staff in their hands, clothed in a coarse robe, living on alms, 
 and satisfied with the plainest food. They stopped in the 
 fields near some village, in the churchyards, in the market- 
 places of the towns, and sometimes in the churches even.* 
 The people, among whom they were favourites, thronged 
 around them, as the men of Northumbria had done at 
 Aidan's preaching. They spoke with a popular eloquence 
 that entirely won over those who listened to them. Of these 
 missionaries none was more beloved than John Ashton. 
 He might be seen wandering over the country in every 
 direction, or seated at some cottage hearth, or alone in some 
 retired crossway, preaching to an attentive crowd. Missions 
 of this kind have constantly revived in England at the great 
 epochs of the church. 
 
 The " poor priests" were not content with mere polemics : 
 they preached the great mystery of godliness. " An angel 
 could have made no propitiation for man," one day exclaimed 
 their master Wickliffe ; " for the nature which has sinned is 
 not that of the angels. The mediator must needs be a man ; 
 but every man being indebted to God for everything that he 
 is able to do, this man must needs have infinite merit, and 
 be at the same time God."-j- % 
 
 The clergy became alarmed, and a law was passed com- 
 manding every king's officer to commit the preachers and their 
 followers to prison.^ In consequence of this, as soon as the 
 humble missionary began to preach, the monks set them- 
 selves in motion. They watched him from the windows of 
 their cells, at the street-corners, or from behind a hedge, and 
 then hastened off to procure assistance. But when the 
 constables approached, a body of stout bold men stood forth, 
 with arms in their hands, who surrounded the preacher, and 
 zealously protected him against the attacks of the clergy. 
 Carnal weapons were thus mingled with the preachings of 
 the word of peace. The poor priests returned to their mas- 
 ter : Wickliffe comforted them, advised with them, and then 
 
 * A private statute made by the clergy. Foxe, Acts, i. p. 503. 
 f Exposition of the Decalogue. 
 J Foxe, Acts, i. p. 503.
 
 WICKLIFFE AND THE FOUR REGENTS. 93 
 
 they departed once more. Every day this evangelization 
 reached some new spot, and the light was thus penetrating 
 into every quarter of England, when the reformer was sud- 
 denly stopped in his work. 
 
 Wickliffe was at Oxford in the year 1379, busied in the 
 discharge of his duties as professor of divinity, when he fell 
 dangerously ill. His was not a strong constitution ; and 
 work, age, and, above all, persecution had weakened him. 
 Great was the joy in the monasteries ; but for that joy to be 
 complete, the heretic must recant. Every effort was made 
 to bring this about in his last moments. 
 
 The four regents, who represented the four religious orders, 
 accompanied by four aldermen, hastened to the bedside of 
 the dying man, hoping to frighten him by threatening him 
 with the vengeance of Heaven. They found him calm and 
 serene. " You have death on your lips," said they ; " be 
 touched by your faults, and retract in our presence all that 
 you have said to our injury." Wickliffe remained silent, 
 and the monks flattered themselves with an easy victory. 
 But the nearer the reformer approached eternity, the greater 
 was his horror of monkery. The consolation he had found 
 in Jesus Christ had given him fresh energy. He begged 
 his servant to raise him on his couch. Then, feeble and 
 pale, and scarcely able to support himself, he turned to- 
 wards the friars, who were waiting for his recantation, and 
 opening his livid lips, and fixing on them a piercing look, he 
 said with emphasis : " I shall not die, but live ; and again 
 declare the evil deeds of the friars." We might almost pic- 
 ture to ourselves the spirit of Elijah threatening the priests 
 of Baal. The regents and their companions looked at each 
 other with astonishment. They left the room in confusion, 
 and the reformer recovered to put the finishing touch to the 
 most important of his works against the monks and against 
 the pope.* 
 
 * Petrie's Church History, i. p. 604.
 
 94 THE BIBLE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Bible Wickliffe's Translation Effects of its Publication Opposi- 
 tion of the Clergy Wickliffe's Fourth Phasis Transubstantiation 
 Excommunication Wickliffe's Firmness Wat Tyler The Synod 
 The Condemned Propositions Wickliffe's Petition Wickliffe before 
 the Primate at Oxford Wickliffe summoned to Rome His Answer 
 The Trialogue His Death And Character His Teaching His Ec- 
 clesiastical Views A Prophecy. 
 
 WICKLIFFE'S ministry had followed a progressive course. 
 At first he had attacked the papacy ; next he preached the 
 gospel to the poor ; he could take one more step and put the 
 people in permanent possession of the word of God. This 
 was the third phase of his activity. 
 
 Scholasticism had banished the Scriptures into a myste- 
 rious obscurity. It is true that Bede had translated the 
 Gospel of St John ; that the learned men at Alfred's court 
 had translated the four evangelists ; that Elfric in the reign 
 of Ethelred had translated some books of the Old Testament; 
 that an Anglo-Norman priest had paraphrased the Gospels 
 and the Acts ; that Richard Rolle, " the hermit of Ham- 
 pole," and some pious clerks fn the fourteenth century, had 
 produced a version of the Psalms, the Gospels, and Epistles : 
 but these rare volumes were hidden, like theological cu- 
 riosities, in the libraries of a few convents. It was then a 
 maxim that the reading of the Bible was injurious to the 
 laity ; and accordingly the priests forbade .it, just as the 
 Brahmins forbid the Shasters to the Hindoos. Oral tradi- 
 tion alone preserved among the people the histories of the 
 Holy Scriptures, mingled with legends of the saints. The 
 time appeared ripe for the publication of a Bible. The in- 
 crease of population, the attention the English were be- 
 ginning to devote to their own language, the development 
 which the system of representative government had received, 
 the awakening of the human mind all these circumstances 
 favoured the reformer's design.
 
 WICKL1FFE TRANSLATES THE BIBLE. 95 
 
 Wickliffe was ignorant indeed of Greek and Hebrew ; but 
 was it nothing to shake off the dust which for ages had 
 covered the Latin Bible, and to translate it in-to English ? 
 He was a good Latin scholar, of sound understanding, and 
 great penetration ; but above all he loved the Bible, he un- 
 derstood it, and desired to communicate this treasure to 
 others. Let us imagine him in his quiet study: on his 
 table is the Vulgate text, corrected after the best manu- 
 scripts ; and lying open around him are the commentaries 
 of the doctors of the church, especially those of St Jerome 
 and Nicholas Lyrensis. Between ten and fifteen years he 
 steadily prosecuted his task; learned men aided him with 
 their advice, and one of them, Nicholas Hereford, appears 
 to have translated a few chapters for him. At last in 1380 
 it was completed. This was a great event in the religious 
 history of England, who, outstripping the nations on the 
 continent, took her station in the foremost rank in the great 
 work of disseminating the Scriptures. 
 
 As soon as the translation was finished, the labour of the 
 copyists began, and the Bible was erelong widely circulated 
 either wholly or in portions. The reception of the work 
 surpassed Wickliffe's expectations. The Holy Scriptures 
 exercised a reviving influence over men's hearts ; minds 
 were enlightened ; souls were converted ; the voices of the 
 " poor priests " had done little in comparison with this voice; 
 something new had entered into the world. Citizens, sol- 
 diers, and the lower classes welcomed this new era with 
 acclamations ; the high-born curiously examined the un- 
 known book ; and even Anne of Luxemburg, wife of Richard 
 II., having learnt English, began to read the Gospels dili- 
 gently. She did more than this : she made them known to 
 Arundel, archbishop of York and chancellor, and afterwards 
 a persecutor, but who now, struck at the sight of a foreign 
 lady of a queen, humbly devoting her leisure to the study 
 of such virtuous books* commenced reading them himself, 
 and rebuked the prelates who neglected this holy pursuit. 
 " You could not meet two persons on the highway," says a 
 
 * Foxe, Acta, i. p. 578.
 
 96 OPPOSITION OP THE CLERGY. 
 
 contemporary writer, " but one of them was "Wickliffe's dis- 
 ciple." 
 
 Yet all in England did not equally rejoice : the lower 
 clergy opposed this enthusiasm with complaints and male- 
 dictions. " Master John Wickliffe, by translating the gos- 
 pel into English," said the monks, " has rendered it more 
 acceptable and more intelligible to laymen and even to 
 women, than it had hitherto been to learned and intelli- 
 gent clerks ! The gospel pearl is everywhere cast out and 
 
 trodden under foot of swine." * New contests arose for the 
 reformer. Wherever he bent his steps he was violently 
 attacked. " It is heresy," cried the monks, " to speak oi 
 Holy Scripture in English." -{ " Since the church has ap- 
 proved of the four Gospels, she would have been just as able 
 to reject them and admit others ! The church sanctions and 
 
 condemns what she pleases Learn to believe in the church 
 
 rather than in the gospel." These clamours did not alarm 
 Wickliffe. " Many nations have had the Bible in their own 
 language. The Bible is the faith of the church. Though the 
 pope and all his clerks should disappear from the face of 
 the earth," said he, " our faith would not fail, for it is 
 founded on Jesus alone, our Master and our God." But 
 Wickliffe did not stand alone : in the palace as in the cot- 
 tage, and even in parliament, the rights of Holy Scripture 
 found defenders. A motion having been made in the Upper 
 House (1390) to seize all the copies of the Bible, the Duke 
 of Lancaster exclaimed : " Are we then the very dregs of 
 humanity, that we cannot possess the laws of our religion 
 in our own tongue ?"{ 
 
 Having given his fellow-countrymen the Bible, Wickliffe 
 began to reflect on its contents. This was a new step in his 
 onward path. There comes a moment when the Christian, 
 saved by a lively faith, feels the need of giving an account 
 to himself of this faith, and this originates the science of 
 
 * Evangelica margarita spargitur et a porois conculcatur. Knyghton, 
 De eventibus Angliae, p. 264. 
 
 f It is heresy to speak of the Holy Scripture in English. Wickliffo's 
 Wicket, p. 4. Oxford, 1612, quarto. 
 
 J Weber, Akatholische Kirchen, i. p. 81,
 
 FOURTH PHASE OF WICKLIFFE. 97 
 
 theology. This is a natural movement : if the child, who at 
 first possesses sensations and affections only, feels the want, 
 as he grows up, of reflection and knowledge, why should it 
 not be the same with the Christian? Politics home mis- 
 sions Holy Scripture had engaged Wickliffe in succes- 
 sion ; theology had its turn, and this was the fourth phase ot 
 his life. Yet he did not penetrate to the same degree as the 
 men of the sixteenth century into the depths of the Christian 
 doctrine ; and he attached himself in a more especial manner 
 to those ecclesiastical dogmas which were more closely con- 
 nected with the presumptuous hierarchy and the simoniacal 
 gains of Rome, such as transubstantiation. The Anglo- 
 Saxon church had not professed this doctrine. " The host 
 is the body of Christ, not bodily but spiritually ," said Elfric 
 in the tenth century, in a letter addressed to the Archbishop of 
 York ; but Lanfranc, the opponent of Berengarius, had taught 
 England that at the word of a priest God quitted heaven and 
 descended oa the altar. Wickliffe undertook to overthrow 
 the pedestal on which the pride of the priesthood was 
 founded. " The eucharist is naturally bread and wine," he 
 taught at Oxford in 1381; "but by virtue of the sacra- 
 mental words it contains in every part the real body and 
 blood of Christ." He did not stop here. " The consecrated 
 wafer which we see on the altar," said he, " is not Christ, 
 nor any part of him, but his efficient sign."* He oscillated 
 between those two shades of. doctrine; but to the first he 
 more habitually attached himself. He denied the sacrifice 
 of the mass offered by the priest, because it was substituted 
 for the sacrifice of the cross offered up by Jesus Christ ; and 
 rejected transubstantiation, because it nullified the spiritual 
 mid living presence of the Lord. 
 
 When Wickliffe's enemies heard these propositions, they 
 appeared horror-stricken, and yet in secret they were de- 
 lighted at the prospect of destroying him. They met 
 together, examined twelve theses he had published, and pro- 
 nounced against him suspension from all teaching, imprison- 
 ment, and the greater excommunication. At the same time 
 
 * Efficax cjus signum. Conclusio 1 Vaughan, ii. p. 436, App. 
 5* j,
 
 98 WICKLIFFE'S FIRMNESS. 
 
 his friends became alarmed, their zeal cooled, and many of 
 them forsook him. The Duke of Lancaster, in particular, 
 could not follow him into this new sphere. That prince had 
 no objection to an ecclesiastical opposition which might aid 
 the political power, and for that purpose he had tried to en- 
 list the reformer's talents and courage ; but he feared a dog- 
 matic opposition that might compromise him. The sky was 
 heavy with clouds ; "Wickliffe was alone. 
 
 The storm soon burst upon him. One day, while seated 
 in his doctoral chair in the Augustine school, and calmly ex- 
 plaining the nature of the eucharist, an officer entered the 
 hall, and read the sentence of condemnation. It was the 
 design of his enemies to humble the professor in the eyes of 
 his disciples. Lancaster immediately became alarmed, and 
 hastening to his old friend begged him ordered him even - 
 to trouble himself no more about this matter. Attacked 
 on every side, "Wickliffe for a time remained silent. Shall 
 he sacrifice the truth to save his reputation his repose 
 perhaps his life ? Shall expediency get the better of faith, 
 Lancaster prevail over Wicklitfe ? No : his courage was 
 invincible. " Since the year of our Lord 1000," said he, 
 " all the doctors have been in error about the sacrament of 
 the altar except, perhaps, it may be Berengarius. How 
 canst tliou, priest, who art but a man, make thy Maker ? 
 What ! the thing that groweth in the fields that ear which 
 
 thou pluckest to-day, shall be God to-morrow! As you 
 
 cannot make the works which He made, how shall ye make 
 Him who made the works?* Woe to the adulterous gene- 
 ration that believeth the testimony of Innocent rather than 
 of the Gospel."f Wickliffe called upon his adversaries to 
 refute the opinions they had condemned, and finding that 
 they threatened him with a civil penalty (imprisonment), he 
 appealed to the king. 
 
 The time was not favourable for such an appeal. A fatal 
 circumstance increased Wickliffe's danger. Wat Tyler and 
 a dissolute priest named Ball, taking advantage of the ill- 
 
 Wycleff's Wyckett, Tracts, pp. 27C, 279. 
 
 f Vac generation! adulterse quso plus credit testimonio Innocentii quam 
 ieusui Evangelii. Confessio, Vaughanj ii. 453, A pp..
 
 . THE SYNOD CONDEMNED PROPOSITIONS. 99 
 
 will excited by the rapacity and brutality of the royal tax- 
 gatherers, had occupied London with 100,000 men. John 
 Ball kept up the spirits of the insurgents, not by expositions 
 of the gospel, like Wickliffe's poor priests, but by fiery com- 
 ments on the distich they had chosen for their device : 
 
 When Adam delved and Ere span, 
 Who was then the gentleman ! 
 
 There were many who felt no scruple in ascribing these dis- 
 orders to the reformer, who was quite innocent of them ; and 
 Courtenay, bishop of London, having been translated to the 
 see of Canterbury, lost no time in convoking a synod to pro- 
 nounce on this matter of Wickliffe's. They met in the 
 middle of May, about two o'clock in the afternoon, and were 
 proceeding to pronounce sentence when an earthquake, 
 which shook the city of London and all Britain, so alarmed 
 the members of the council that they unanimously demanded 
 the adjournment of a decision which appeared so manifestly 
 rebuked by God. But the archbishop skilfully turned this 
 strange phenomenon to his own purposes : " Know you not," 
 said he, " that the noxious vapours which catch fire in the 
 bosom of the earth, and give rise to these phenomena 
 which alarm you, lose all their force when they burst forth ? 
 Well, in like manner, by rejecting the wicked from our com- 
 munity, we shall put an end to the convulsions of the 
 church." The bishops regained their courage ; and one of 
 the primate's officers read ten propositions, said to be Wick- 
 liffe's, but ascribing to him certain errors of which he was 
 quite innocent. The following most excited the anger of the 
 priests : " God must obey the devil.* After Urban VI. we 
 must receive no one as pope, but live according to the 
 manner of the Greeks." The ten propositions were con- 
 demned as heretical, and the archbishop enjoined all persons 
 to shun, as they would a venomous serpent, all who should 
 preach the aforesaid errors. " If we permit this heretic to 
 appeal continually to the passions of the people," said the 
 
 * Quod Deus debet obedire diabolo. Mansi, xxvi. p. 695. Wickliflb 
 denied having written or spoken the sentiment here ascribed to him.
 
 100 WICKLIFFE'S PETITION. 
 
 primate to the king, "our destruction is inevitable. We 
 must silence these lollards these psalm-singers."* The 
 king gave authority " to confine in the prisons of the state 
 any who should maintain the condemned propositions. 1 ' 
 
 Day by day the circle contracted around Wickliffe. The 
 prudent Repingdon, the learned Hereford, and even the elo- 
 quent Ashton, the firmest of the three, departed from him. 
 The veteran champion of the truth which had once gathered 
 a whole nation round it, had reached the days when " strong 
 men shall bow themselves," and now, when harassed by 
 persecution, he found himself alone. But boldly he uplifted 
 his hoary head and exclaimed : " The doctrine of the gospel 
 shall never perish; and if the earth once quaked, it was 
 because they condemned Jesus Christ." 
 
 He did not stop here. In proportion as his physical 
 strength decreased, his moral strength increased. Instead 
 of parrying the blows aimed at him, he resolved on dealing 
 more terrible ones still. He knew that if the king and the 
 nobility were for the priests, the lower house and the citizens 
 were for liberty and truth. He therefore presented a bold 
 petition to the Commons in the month of November 1382. 
 "Since Jesus Christ shed his blood to free his church, ) 
 demand its freedom. I demand that every one may leave 
 those gloomy walls [the convents], within which a tyran- 
 nical law prevails, and embrace a simple and peaceful life 
 under the open vault of heaven. I demand that the pool 
 inhabitants of our towns and villages be not constrained U 
 furnish a worldly priest, often a vicious man and a heretic, 
 with the means of satisfying his ostentation, his gluttony, 
 and his licentiousness of buying a showy horse, costly 
 saddles, bridles with tinkling bells, rich garments, and soft 
 furs, while they see their wives, children, and neighbours, 
 dying of hunger."-}- The House of Commons, recollecting 
 that they had not given their consent to the persecuting 
 statute drawn up by the clergy and approved by the king 
 
 * From Mien to sing ; as beggards (beggars) from beggen. ^ 
 
 + A complaint of John Wycleff. Tracts and Treatises edited by the 
 Wlokliffe Society, p. 263,
 
 WICKLIFFE BEFORE THE PRIMATE. 101 
 
 and the lords, demanded its repeal. Was the Reformation 
 about to begin by the will of the people ? 
 
 Courtenay, indignant at this intervention of the Commons, 
 and ever stimulated by a zeal for his church, which would 
 have been better directed towards the word of God, visited 
 Oxford in November 1382, and having gathered round him 
 a number of bishops, doctors, priests, students, and laymen, 
 summoned Wickliffe before him. Forty years ago the re- 
 former had come up to the university : Oxford had become 
 his home and now it was turning against him 1 "Weak- 
 ened by labours, by trials, by that ardent soul which preyed 
 upon his feeble body, he might have refused to appear. 
 But Wickliffe, who never feared the face of man, came be- 
 fore them with a good conscience. We may conjecture that 
 there were among the crowd some disciples who felt their 
 hearts bum at the sight of their master; but no outward 
 sign indicated their emotion. The solemn silence of a court 
 of justice had succeeded the shouts of enthusiastic youths. 
 Yet Wickliffe did not despair : he raised his venerable head, 
 and turned to Courtenay with that confident look which had 
 made the regents of Oxford shrink away. Growing wroth 
 against the priests of Baal, he reproached them with dis- 
 seminating error in order to sell their masses. Then he 
 stopped, and uttered these simple aud energetic words: 
 " The truth shall prevail ! " * Having thus spoken he pre- 
 pared to leave the court : his enemies dared not say a word ; 
 and, like his divine master at Nazareth, he passed through 
 the midst of them, and no man ventured to stop him. He 
 then withdrew to his cure at Lutterworth. 
 
 He had not yet reached the harbour. He was living 
 peacefully among his books and his parishioners, and the 
 priests seemed inclined to leave him alone, when another 
 blow was aimed at him. A papal brief summoned him to 
 Rome, to appear before that tribunal which had so often 
 shed the blood of its adversaries. His bodily infirmities 
 convinced him that he could not obey this summons. But 
 if Wickliffe refused to hear Urban, Urban could not choose 
 but hear Wickliffe. The church was at that time divided 
 * Finaliter veritaa vincet eos. Vaughan, Appendix, ii. p. 453.
 
 102 WICKLUTE SUMMONED TO ROME, 
 
 between two chiefs : France, Scotland, Savoy, Lorraine, 
 Castile, and Aragon acknowledged Clement VII. ; while 
 Italy, England, Germany, Sweden, Poland, and Hungary 
 acknowledged Urban VI. Wickliffe shall tell us who is the 
 true head of the church universal. And while the two 
 popes were excommunicating and abusing each other, and 
 selling heaven and earth for their own gain, the reformer 
 was confessing that incorruptible Word, which establishes 
 real unity in the church. " I believe," said he, " that the 
 gospel of Christ is the whole body of God's law. I believe 
 that Christ, who gave it to us, is very God and very man, 
 and that this gospel revelation is, accordingly, superior to 
 all oth*er parts of Holy Scripture.* I believe that the bishop 
 of Rome is bound more than all other men to submit to it, 
 for the greatness among Christ's disciples did not consist in 
 worldly dignity or honours, but in the exact following of 
 Christ in his life and manners. No faithful man ought to 
 follow the pope, but in such points as he hath followed 
 Jesus Christ. The pope ought to leave unto the secular 
 power all temporal dominion and rule : and thereunto effec- 
 tually more and more exhort his whole clergy If I could 
 
 labour according to my desire in mine own person, I would 
 surely present myself before the bishop of Rome, but the 
 Lord hath otherwise- visited me to the contrary, and hath 
 taught me rather to obey God than men."-{- 
 
 Urban, who at that moment chanced to be very busied in 
 his contest with Clement, did not think it prudent to begin 
 another with Wickliffe, and so let the matter rest there. 
 From this time the doctor passed the remainder of his days 
 in peace in the company of three personages, two of whom 
 were his particular friends, and the third his constant ad 
 versary: these were Aletheia, Phronesis, and Pseudes. Al- 
 etheia (truth) proposed questions ; Pseudes (falsehood) urged 
 
 * This is the reading of the Bodleian manuscript" and be [by] this it 
 passes all other laws." In Foxe, Wickliffe appears to ascribe to Christ 
 himself this superiority over all Scripture, a distinction hardly in the 
 mind of the reformer or of his age. 
 
 f An Epistle of J. Wickliffe to Pope Urban VI. Foxe, Acts, i. p. 507, 
 fol. Lond. 1684 ; also Lewis (Wickliffe), p. 333, Append.
 
 THE TRIALOGUE DEATH OP WICKLTFFE. 103 
 
 objections; and Phronesis (understanding) laid down the 
 sound doctrine. These three characters carried on a con- 
 versation (trialogue) in which great truths were boldly pro- 
 fessed. The opposition between the pope and Christ be- 
 tween the canons of Romanism and the Bible was painted 
 in striking colours. This is one of the primary truths which 
 the church must never forget. "The church has fallen," 
 said one of the interlocutors in the work in question, " be- 
 cause she has abandoned the gospel, and preferred the laws 
 of the pope. Although there should be a hundred popes in 
 the world at once, and all the friars living should be trans- 
 formed into cardinals, we must withhold our confidence 
 unless so far as they are founded in Holy Scripture."* 
 
 These words were the last flicker of the torch. Wickliffe 
 looked upon his end as near, and entertained no idea that it 
 would come in peace. A dungeon on one of the seven hills, 
 or a burning pile in London, was all he expected. " Why 
 do you talk of seeking the crown of martyrdom afar?" 
 asked he. " Preach the gospel of Christ to haughty prelates, 
 and martyrdom will not fail you. What ! I should live and 
 be silent? never! Let the blow fall, I await its com- 
 
 ing-"t 
 
 The stroke was spared him. The war between two 
 wicked priests, Urban and Clement, left the disciples of our 
 Lord in peace. And besides, was it worth while cutting 
 short a life that was drawing to a close ? Wickliffe, there- 
 fore, continued tranquilly to preach Jesus Christ; and on 
 the 29th December 1384, as he was in his church at Lutter- 
 worth, in the midst of his flock, at the very moment that he 
 stood before the altar, and was elevating the host with 
 trembling hands, he fell upon the pavement struck with 
 paralysis. He was carried to his house by the affectionate 
 friends around him, and after lingering forty-eight hours 
 resigned his soul to God on the last day of the year. 
 
 Thus was removed from the church one of the boldest 
 
 V * Ideo si essent centum papa?,^t omnes fratres essent versi in cardi- 
 nales, non deberet concedi sententise suae in materia fidei, nisi de quanto 
 so fundaverint in Scriptnra. Trialogus, lib. iv. cap. vii. 
 f Vaughan's Life of Wickliffe, ii. p. 215, 257.
 
 104 WICKLIFFE'S CHARACTER. 
 
 witnesses to the truth. The seriousness of his language, 
 the holiness of his life, and the energy of his faith, had 
 intimidated the popedom. Travellers relate that if a lion is 
 met in the desert, it is sufficient to look steadily at him, and 
 the beast turns away roaring from the eye of man. Wick- 
 liffe had fixed the eye of a Christian on the papacy, and the 
 affrighted papacy had left him in peace. Hunted down un- 
 ceasingly while living, he died in quiet, at the very moment 
 when by faith he was eating the flesh and drinking the 
 blood which gave eternal life. A glorious end to a glorious 
 life. 
 
 The Reformation of England had begun. 
 
 Wickliffe is the greatest English reformer he was in 
 truth the first reformer of Christendom, and to him, under 
 God, Britain is indebted for the honour of being the fore- 
 most in the attack upon the theocratic system of Gregory 
 VII. The work of the Waldenses, excellent as it was, can- 
 not be compared to his. If Luther and Calvin are the 
 fathers of the Reformation, Wickliffe is its grandfather. 
 
 Wickliffe, like most great men, possessed qualities which 
 are not generally found together. While his understanding 
 was eminently speculative his treatise on the Reality of 
 universal Ideas* made a sensation in philosophy he pos- 
 sessed that practical and active mind which characterizes the 
 Anglo-Saxon race. As a divine, he was at once scriptural 
 and spiritual, soundly orthodox, and possessed of an inward 
 and lively faith. With a boldness that impelled him to rush 
 into the midst of danger, he combined a logical and consist- 
 ent mind, which constantly led him forward in knowledge, 
 and caused him to maintain with perseverance the truths he 
 had once proclaimed. First of all, as a Christian, he had 
 devoted his strength to the cause of the church; but he 
 was at the same time a citizen, and the realm, his nation, 
 and his king, had also a great share in his unwearied activity. 
 He was a man complete. 
 
 If the man is admirable, his teaching is no less so. Scrip- 
 ture, which is the rule of truth,^hould be (according to his 
 views) the rule of reformation, and we must reject every 
 * Da universalibus realibus.
 
 
 WICKLIFFE'S TEACHING HIS ECCLESIASTICAL VIEWS. 105 
 
 doctrine and every precept which does not rest on that 
 foundation.* To believe in the power of man in the work 
 of regeneration is the great heresy of Rome, and from that 
 error has come the ruin of the church. Conversion proceeds 
 from the grace of God alone, and the system which ascribes 
 it partly to man and partly to God is worse than Pelagian- 
 ism. -j- Christ is everything in Christianity; whosoever 
 abandons that fountain which is ever ready to impart life, 
 and turns to muddy and stagnant waters, is a madman. J 
 Faith is a gift of God ; it puts aside all merit, and should 
 banish all fear from the mind. The one thing needful in 
 the Christian life and in the Lord's Supper js not a vain 
 formalism and superstitious rites, but communion with 
 Christ according to the power of the spiritual h'fe. || Let 
 Christians submit not to the word of a priest but to the 
 word of God. In the primitive church there were but two 
 orders, the deacon and the priest : the presbyter and the 
 bishop were one.^[ The sublimest calling which man can 
 attain on earth is that of preaching the word of God. The 
 true church is the assembly of the righteous for whom 
 Christ shed his blood. So long as Christ is in heaven, in 
 Him the church possesses the best pope. It is possible 
 for a pope to be condemned at the last day because of his 
 sins. Would men compel us to recognise as our head " a 
 devil of hell?"** Such were the essential points of Wick- 
 liffe's doctrine. It was the echo of the doctrine of the apostles 
 the prelude to that of the reformers. 
 
 In many respects Wickliffe is the Luther of England; 
 but the times of revival had not yet come, and the English 
 
 * Auctoritas Scripturse sacra, qua est lex Christ!, infinitum excedit 
 quam libet scripturam aliam. Dialog. [Trialogus] lib. iii. cap. xxx. ; 
 see in particular cap. xxxi. 
 
 + Ibid, de prsedestinatione, de peccato, de gratia, &c. 
 
 t Ibid. lib. iii. cap. xxx. 
 
 Fidem a Deo infusam sine aliqua trepidatione fidei coutraria. Ibid, 
 lib. ni. cap. ii. 
 
 y || Secundum rationem spiritualis et virtualis existentise. Ibid. lib. iv. 
 cap. viii. 
 
 U Fuit idem presbyter atque episcopns. Ibid. lib. iv. cap. XT. 
 
 ** Vaughan's Life of Wickliffe, ii. p. 307. The Christian public Is much 
 Indebted to Dr Vanghan for his biography of this reformer. 
 
 J
 
 106 A PROPHECY. 
 
 reformer could not gain such striking victories over Rome 
 as the German reformer. While Luther was surrounded by 
 an ever-increasing number of scholars and princes, who con- 
 fessed the same faith as himself, Wickliffe shone almost 
 alone in the firmament of the church. The boldness with 
 which he substituted a living spirituality for a superstitions 
 formalism, caused those to shrink back in affright who had 
 gone with him against friars, priests, and popes. Erelong 
 the Roman pontiff ordered him to be thrown into prison, 
 and the monks threatened his life;* but God protected 
 him, and he remained calm amidst the machinations of 
 his adversaries. " Antichrist," said he, " can only kill the 
 body." Having one foot in the grave already, he foretold 
 that, from the very bosom of monkery, would some day pro- 
 ceed the regeneration of the church. " If the friars, whom 
 God condescends to teach, shall be converted to the prim- 
 itive religion of Christ," said he, " we shall see them aban- 
 doning their unbelief, returning freely, 'with or without the 
 permission of Antichrist, to the primitive religion of the 
 Lord, and building up the church, as did St Paul."-j- 
 
 Thus did Wickliffe's piercing glance discover, at the dis- 
 tance of nearly a century and a half, the young monk 
 Luther in the Augustine convent at Erfurth, converted by 
 the epistle to the Romans, and returning to the spirit 
 of St Paul and the religion of Jesus Christ. Time was 
 hastening on to the fulfilment of this prophecy. " The 
 rising sun of the Reformation," for so has Wickliffe been 
 called, had appeared above the horizon, and its beams were 
 no more to be extinguished. In vain will thick clouds veil 
 it at times; the distant hill-tops of Eastern Europe will 
 soon reflect its rays ; ^ and its piercing light, increasing in 
 brightness, will pour over all the world, at the hour of the 
 church's renovation, floods of knowledge and of life. 
 
 * Multitude fratrum mortem tuam multipliciter machinantur. Dialog., 
 lib. iv. cap. iv. 
 
 t Aliqui fratres quos Deus docere dignatur relicta sua perfidia 
 
 redibunt libere ad religionem Christi primaevam, et tune sedificabunt eo- 
 lesiam, sicut Paulus. Ibid., lib. iv. cap. xxx. 
 
 J John Husa in Bohemia.
 
 THE WICKLHTITES. 107 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Wickliffitea Call for Reform Richard II. The First Martyr- 
 Lord Cobham Appears before Henry V. Before the Archbishop 
 His Confession and Death The Lollards. 
 
 WICKLIFFE'S death manifested the power of his teaching. 
 The master being removed, his disciples set their hands to 
 the plough, and England was almost won over to the re- 
 former's doctrines. The Wickliffites recognised a ministry 
 independent of Rome, and deriving authority from the word 
 of God alone. " Every minister," said they, " can admini- 
 ster the sacraments and confer the cure of souls as well as 
 the pope." To the licentious wealth of the clergy they 
 opposed a Christian poverty, and to the degenerate asceticism 
 of the mendicant orders, a spiritual and free life. The 
 townsfolk crowded around these humble preachers ; the sol- 
 diers listened to them, armed with sword and buckler to 
 defend them ;* the nobility took down the images from their 
 baronial chapels ;f and even the royal family was partly 
 won over to the Reformation. England was like a tree cut 
 down to the ground, from whose roots fresh buds are shoot- 
 ing out on every side, erelong to cover all the earth beneath 
 their shade4 
 
 This augmented the courage of "Wickliffe's disciples, and 
 in many places the people took the initiative in the reform. 
 The walls of St Paul's and other cathedrals were hung with 
 placards aimed at the priests and friars, and the abuses of 
 which they were the defenders; and in 1395 the friends of 
 
 * Assistere solent gladio et pelta stipati ad eorum defensionem. Knygh- 
 ton, lib. v. p. 2660. 
 
 f Milites cum ducibus et comitibus erant prsecipue eis adhaerentes. 
 Ibid. 
 
 Quasi germinantes multiplicati sunt nimis et impleverunt ubique 
 orbemregni. Ibid. These " ConclurioneJ' are reprinted by Lewi(Wick- 
 liffc), p. 337.
 
 108 CALL FOE REFORM. 
 
 
 
 the Gospel petitioned parliament for a general reform. " The 
 essence of the worship which comes from Rome," said they, 
 consists in signs and ceremonies, and not in the efficacity of 
 the Holy Ghost ; and therefore it is not that which Christ 
 has ordained. Temporal things are distinct from spiritual 
 things : a king and a bishop ought not to be one and the 
 same person." * And then, from not clearly understanding 
 the principle of the separation of the functions which they 
 proclaimed, they called upon parliament to " abolish celi- 
 bacy, transubstantiation, prayers for the dead, offerings to 
 images, auricular confession, war, the arts unnecessary to 
 life, the practice of blessing oil, salt, wax, incense, stones, 
 mitres, and pilgrims' staffs. All these pertain to necro- 
 mancy and not to theology." Emboldened by the absence 
 of the king in Ireland, they fixed their Twelve Conclusions 
 on the gates of St Paul's and Westminster Abbey. This 
 became the signal for persecution. 
 
 As soon as Arundel, archbishop of York, and Braybrooke, 
 bishop of London, had read these propositions, they hastily 
 crossed St George's Channel, and conjured the king to return 
 to England. The prince hesitated not to comply, for his 
 wife, the pious Anne of Luxemburg, was dead. Richard, 
 during childhood and youth, had been committed in succes- 
 sion to the charge of several guardians, and like children 
 (says an historian), whose nurses have been often changed, 
 he thrived none the better for it. He did good or evil, 
 according to the influence of those around him, and had no 
 decided inclinations except for ostentation and licentious- 
 ness. The clergy were not mistaken in calculating on such 
 a prince. On his return to London he forbade the parlia- 
 ment to take the Wickliffite petition into consideration ; and 
 having summoned before him the most distinguished of its 
 supporters, such as Story, Clifford, Latimer, and Montacute, 
 he threatened them with death if they continued to defend 
 their abominable opinions. Thus was the work of the re- 
 former about to be destroyed. 
 
 But Richard had hardly withdrawn his hand from the 
 gospel, when God (says the annalist) withdrew his hand 
 
 * Rex et episcopus in una persona, &c. Knyghton, lib. v. p. 2660.
 
 HENRY IV. THE FIRST MARTYR. 109 
 
 from him.* His cousin, Henry of Hereford, son of the fa- 
 mous duke of Lancaster, and who had been banished from 
 England, suddenly sailed from the continent, landed in York- 
 shire, gathered all the malcontents around him, and was ac- 
 knowledged king. The unhappy Richard, after being for- 
 mally deposed, was confined in Pontefract castle, where he 
 soon terminated his earthly career. 
 
 The son of Wickliffe's old defender was now king : a re- 
 form of the church seemed imminent ; but the primate Amn- 
 del had foreseen the danger. This cunning priest and skil- 
 ful politician had observed which way the wind blew, and 
 deserted Richard hi good time. Taking Lancaster by the 
 hand, he put the crown on his head, saying to him : " To 
 consolidate your throne, conciliate the clergy, and sacrifice 
 the Lollards." " I will be the protector of the church," re- 
 plied Henry IV., and from that hour the power of the priests 
 was greater than the power of the nobility. Rome has ever 
 been adroit in profiting by .revolutions. 
 
 Lancaster, in his eagerness to show his gratitude to the 
 priests, ordered that every incorrigible heretic should be 
 burnt alive, to terrify his companions.f Practice followed 
 close upon the theory. A pious priest named William Saw- 
 tre had presumed to say : " Instead of adoring the cross on 
 which Christ suffered, I adore Christ who suffered on it."J 
 He was dragged to St Paul's ; his hair was shaved off; a 
 layman's cap was placed on his head; and the primate 
 handed him over to the mercy of the earl-marshal of England. 
 This mercy was shown him he was burnt alive at Smith- 
 field in the beginning of March 1401. Sawtre was the first 
 martyr to protestantism. 
 
 Encouraged by this act of faith this auto da /e the 
 clergy drew up the articles known as the " Constitutions of 
 Arundel," which forbade the reading of the Bible, and styled 
 the pope, "not a mere man, but a true God." The L - 
 lards' tower, in the archiepiscopal palace of Lambeth, was 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, i. p. 584, fol. Lend. 1684. 
 
 + Ibid. p. 586. This is the statute known as 2 Henry IV. c. 15, the first 
 actual law in England against heresy. 
 
 J Ibid. p. 589. 
 
 Not of pure man but of true God, hare in earth. Ibid. p. 596.
 
 110. PERSECUTION LORD COBHAM. 
 
 soon filled with pretended heretics, many of whom carved 
 on the walls of their dungeons the expression of their sor- 
 row and their hopes : Jesus amor meus, wrote one of them.* 
 To crush the lowly was not enough : the Gospel must be 
 driven from the more exalted stations. The priests, who 
 were sincere in their belief, regarded those noblemen as mis- 
 leaders who set the word of God above the laws of Rome, 
 and accordingly they girded themselves for the work. A few 
 miles from Rochester stood Cowling Castle, in the midst 
 of the fertile pastures watered by the Medway, 
 
 The fair Medwaya that with wanton pride 
 Forms silver mazes with her crooked tide.t 
 
 In the beginning of the fifteenth century it was inhabited by 
 Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, a man in high favour 
 with the king. The " poor priests" thronged to Cowling in 
 quest of Wickliffe's writings, of which Cobham had caused 
 numerous copies to be made, and whence they were circu- 
 lated through the dioceses of Canterbury, Rochester, Lon- 
 don, and Hertford. Cobham attended their preaching, and 
 if any enemies ventured to interrupt them, he threatened 
 them with his sword.j: " I would sooner risk my life," said 
 he, " than submit to such unjust decrees as dishonour the 
 everlasting Testament." The king would not permit the 
 clergy to lay hands on his favourite. 
 
 But Henry V. having succeeded his father in 1413, and 
 passed from the houses of ill-fame he had hitherto frequent- 
 ed, to the foot of the altars and the head of the armies, the 
 archbishop immediately denounced Cobham to him, and he 
 was summoned to appear before the king. Sir John had 
 understood Wickliffe's doctrine, and experienced in his own 
 person the might of the divine Word. " As touching the 
 pope and his spirituality," he said to the king, " I owe them 
 neither suit nor service, forasmuch as I know him by the 
 
 * " Jesus is my love." These words are still to be read in the tower. 
 
 f Blackmore. 
 
 i Eorum prsedicationibus nefariis interfuit, et contradictores, si quos 
 repererat, minis et terroribus et gladii secularis potentia compescuit. 
 Rymer, Fcedera, torn. iv. pars 2, p. 50.
 
 COBHAM BEFORE THE ARCHBISHOP. Ill 
 
 Scriptures to be the great antichrist."* Henry thrust aside 
 Cobham's hand as he presented his confession of faith : " I 
 will not receive this paper, lay it before your judges." When 
 he saw his profession refused, Cobham had recourse to the 
 only arm which he knew of out of the gospel. The differences 
 which we now settle by pamphlets were then very com- 
 monly settled by the sword : " I offer in defence of my 
 faith to fight pr life or death with any man living, Christian 
 or pagan, always excepting your majesty." f Cobham was 
 led to the Tower. 
 
 On the 23d September 1413, he was taken before the 
 ecclesiastical tribunal then sitting at St Paul's. " We must 
 believe," said the primate to him, " what the holy church of 
 Rome teaches, without demanding Christ's authority." 
 "Believe!" shouted the priests, "believe!" "I am willing 
 to believe all that God desires," said Sir John ; " but that 
 the pope should have authority to teach what is contrary to 
 Scripture that I can never believe." He was led back to 
 the Tower. The word of God was to have its martyr. 
 
 On Monday, 25th September, a crowd of priests, canons, 
 friars, clerks, and indulgence-sellers, thronged the large hall 
 of the Dominican convent, and attacked Lord Cobham with 
 abusive language. These insults, the importance of the 
 moment for the Reformation of England, the catastrophe 
 that must needs close the scene : all agitated his soul to its 
 very depths. When the archbishop called upon him to 
 confess his offence, he fell on his knees, and lifting up his 
 hands to heaven, exclaimed : " I confess to Thee, God ! 
 and acknowledge that in my frail youth I seriously offended 
 Thee by my pride, anger, intemperance, and impurity : for 
 these offences I implore thy mercy!" Then standing up, 
 his face still wet with tears, he said : " I ask not your abso- 
 lution : it is God's only that I need."J The clergy did not 
 despair, however, of reducing this high-spirited gentleman : 
 they knew that spiritual strength is not always conjoined 
 with bodily vigour, and they hoped to vanquish by priestly 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, rol. i. p. 636, fol. f Ibid. p. 637. 
 
 J Quod nullam absolutionem iu hac parte peterot a nobis, sed a solo 
 Deo. Rymer, Fcedera, p. 51.
 
 112 LORD COBHAM'S DEATH. 
 
 sophisms the man who dared challenge the papal champions 
 to single combat. " Sir John," said the primate at last, 
 " you have said some very strange things : we have spent 
 much time in endeavours to convince you, but all to no 
 effect. The day passeth away : you must either submit 
 
 yourself to the ordinance of the most holy church " " I 
 
 will none otherwise believe than what I have told you. Do 
 with me what you will." " "Well then, we must needs do 
 the law," the archbishop made answer. 
 
 Arundel stood up; all the priests and people rose with 
 him and uncovered their heads. Then holding the sentence 
 of death in his hand, he read it with a loud clear voice. " It 
 is well," said Sir John ; " though you condemn my body, 
 you can do no harm to my soul, by the grace of my eternal 
 God." He was again led back to the Tower, whence he 
 escaped one night, and took refuge in Wales. He was re- 
 taken in December 1417, carried to London, dragged on a 
 hurdle to Saint Giles's fields, and there suspended by chains 
 over a slow fire, and cruelly burned to death. Thus died a 
 Christian, illustrious after" the fashion of his age a cham- 
 pion of the word of God. The London prisons were filled 
 with Wickliffites, and it was decreed that they should be 
 hung on the king's account, and burnt for God's.* 
 
 The intimidated Lollards were compelled to hide them- 
 selves in the humblest ranks of the people, and to hold their 
 meetings in secret. The work of redemption was proceed- 
 ing noiselessly among the elect of God. Of these Lollards, 
 there were many who had been redeemed by Jesus Christ ; 
 but in general they knew not, to the same extent as the 
 evangelical Christians of the sixteenth century, the quick- 
 ening and justifying power of faith. They were plain, 
 meek, and often timid folks, attracted by the word of God, 
 affected at the condemnation it pronounces against the errors 
 of Rome, and desirous of living according to its command- 
 ments. God had assigned them a part and an important 
 part too in the great transformation of Christianity. Their 
 humble piety, their passive resistance, the shameful treat- 
 
 * Incendio propter Deum, suspendio propter regem. Thorn. Walden- 
 sis in proemio. Raynald, ann. 1414. No 16.
 
 LEARNING AT FLORENCE. 113 
 
 ment which they bore with resignation, the penitent's robes 
 with which they were covered, the tapers they were com- 
 pelled to hold at the church-door all these things betrayed 
 the pride of the priests, and filled the most generous minds 
 with doubts and vague desires. By a baptism of suffering, 
 God was then preparing the way to a glorious reformation. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Learning at Florence The Tudors Erasmus visits England Sir 
 Thomas More Dean Colet Erasmus and young Henry Prince 
 Arthur and Catherine Marriage and Death Catherine betrothed to 
 Henry Accession of Henry VIII. Enthusiasm of the Learned 
 Erasmus recalled to England Cromwell before the Pope Catherine 
 proposed to Henry Their Marriage and Court Tournaments 
 Henry's Danger. 
 
 THIS reformation was to be the result of two distinct forces 
 the revival of learning and the resurrection of the word 
 of God. The latter was the principal cause, but the former 
 was necessary as a means. Without it the living waters ot 
 the gospel would probably have traversed the age, like 
 summer streams which soon dry up, such as those which 
 had burst forth "here and there during the middle ages ; it 
 would not have become that majestic river, which, by its 
 inundations, fertilized all the earth. It was necessary to 
 discover and examine the original fountains, and for this end 
 the study of Greek and Hebrew was indispensable. Lol- 
 lardism and humanism (the study of the classics) were the 
 two laboratories of the reform. We have seen the prepara- 
 tions of the one, we must now trace the commencement of 
 the other ; and as we have discovered the light in the lowly 
 valleys, we shall discern it also on the lofty mountain tops. 
 About the end of the fifteenth century, several young 
 Englishmen chanced to be at Florence, attracted thither by 
 
 <he literary glory which environed the city of the Medici. 
 VOL. v. 6
 
 114 A NEW DYNASTY THE TUDORS. 
 
 Cosmo had collected together a great number of works of 
 antiquity, and his palace was thronged with learned men. 
 William Selling, a young English ecclesiastic, afterwards 
 distinguished at Canterbury by his zeal in collecting valu- 
 able manuscripts; his fellow-countrymen, Grocyn, Lilly, 
 and Latimer "more bashful than a maiden;"* and, above 
 all, Linacre, whom Erasmus ranked before all the scholars 
 of Italy, used to meet in the delicious villa of the Medici 
 with Politian, Chalcondyles, and other men of learning ; and 
 there, in the calm evenings of summer, under that glorious 
 Tuscan sky, they dreamt romantic visions of the Platonic 
 philosophy. When they returned to England, these learned 
 men laid before the youth of Oxford the marvellous treasures 
 of the Greek language. Some Italians even, attracted by 
 the desire to enlighten the barbarians, and a little, it may 
 be, by the brilliant offers made them, quitted their beloved 
 country for the distant Britain. Cornelius Vitelli taught at 
 Oxford, and Caius Amberino at Cambridge. Caxton imported 
 the art of printing from Germany, and the nation hailed 
 with enthusiasm the brilliant dawn which was breaking at 
 last in their cloudy sky. 
 
 While learning was reviving in England, a new dynasty 
 succeeded to the throne, bringing with it that energy of 
 character which of itself is able to effect great revolutions ; 
 the Tudors succeeded the Plantagenets. That inflexible in- 
 trepidity by which the reformers of Germany, Switzerland, 
 France, and Scotland were distinguished, did not exist so 
 generally in those of England ; but it was found in the char- 
 acter of her kings, who often stretched it even to violence. 
 It may be that to this preponderance of energy in its rulers, 
 the church owes the preponderance of the state in its affairs. 
 
 Henry Tudor, the Louis XL of England, was a clever 
 prince, of decided but suspicious character, avaricious and 
 narrow-minded. Being descended from a Welsh family, he 
 belonged to that ancient race of Celts who had so long con- 
 tended against the papacy. Henry had extinguished fac- 
 tion at home, and taught foreign nations to respect his 
 power. A good genius seemed to exercise a salutary influ- 
 * Fudorem plus quam virgineum. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 525.
 
 ERASMUS IN ENGLAND. 115 
 
 encc over his court as well as over himself : this was his 
 mother, the countess of Richmond. From her closet, where 
 she consecrated the first five hours of the day to reading, 
 meditation, and prayer, she moved to another part of the 
 palace to dress the wounds of some of the lowest mendi- 
 cants ; thence she passed into the gay saloons, where she 
 would converse with the scholars, whom she encouraged 
 by her munificence. This noble lady's passion for study, of 
 which her son inherited but little, was not without its influ- 
 ence in her family. Arthur and Henry, the king's eldest 
 sons, trembled in their father's presence ; but, captivated by 
 the affection of their pious grandmother, they began to find 
 a pleasure in the society of learned men. An important 
 circumstance gave a new impulse to one of them. 
 
 Among the countess's friends was Montjoy, who had 
 known Erasmus at Paris, and heard his cutting sarcasms 
 upon the schoolmen and friars. He invited the illustrious 
 Dutchman to England, and Erasmus, who was fearful of 
 catching the plague, gladly accepted the invitation, and set 
 out for what he believed to be the kingdom of darkness. 
 But he had not been long in England before he discovered 
 unexpected light. 
 
 Shortly after his arrival, happening to dine with the lord- 
 mayor, Erasmus noticed on the other side of the table a 
 young man of nineteen, slender, fresh-coloured, with blue 
 eyes, coarse hands, and the right shoulder somewhat higher 
 than the other. His features indicated affability and gaiety, 
 and pleasant jests were continually dropping from his lips. 
 If he could not find a joke in English, he would in French, 
 and even in Latin or Greek. A literary contest soon en- 
 sued between Erasmus and the English youth. The former, 
 astonished at meeting with any one that could hold his own 
 against him, exclaimed : Aut tu es Morus out nullus ! (you 
 are either More or nobody) ; and his companion, who had 
 not learnt the stranger's name, quickly replied : Ant tu es 
 Erasmus out diabolus ! (you are either the devil or Eras- 
 mus).* More flung himself into the arms of Erasmus, and 
 they became inseparable friends. More was continually 
 Life of More by his Great-grandson, (18-28), p. 90.
 
 116 MOUE AND COLET. 
 
 joking, even with women, teasing the young maidens, and 
 making fun of the dull, though without any tinge of ill- 
 nature in his jests.* But under this sportive exterior he 
 concealed a deep understanding. He was at that time lec- 
 turing on Augustine's City of God before a numerous 
 audience composed of priests and aged men. The thought 
 of eternity had seized him ; and being ignorant of that in- 
 ternal discipline of the Holy Ghost, which is the only true 
 discipline, he had recourse to the scourge on every Friday. 
 Thomas More is the ideal of the Catholicism of this period. 
 He had, like the Romish system, two poles worldliness and 
 asceticism ; which, although contrary, often meet together. 
 In fact, asceticism makes a sacrifice of self, only to preserve 
 it; just as a traveller attacked by robbers will readily give 
 up a portion of his treasures to save the rest. This was the 
 case with More, if we rightly understand his character. He 
 sacrificed the accessories of his fallen nature to save that 
 same nature. He submitted to fasts and vigils, wore a shirt 
 of hair-cloth, mortified his body by small chains next his 
 skin in a word, he immolated everything in order to 
 preserve that self which a real regeneration alone can sac- 
 rifice. 
 
 From London Erasmus went to Oxford, where he met with 
 John <sk)let, a friend of More's, but older, and of very dis- 
 similar character. Colet, the scion of an ancient family, was 
 a very portly man, of imposing aspect, great fortune, and ele- 
 gance of manners, to which Erasmus had not been accus- 
 tomed. Order, cleanliness, and decorum prevailed in his per- 
 son and in his house. He kept an excellent table, which was 
 open to all the friends of learning, and at which the Dutch- 
 man, no great admirer of the colleges of Paris with their 
 sour wine and stale eggs, was glad to take a seat, f He there 
 met also most of the classical scholars of England, especially 
 Grocyn, Linacre, Thomas Wolsey, bursar of Magdalene Col- 
 lege, Halsey, and some others. " I cannot tell you how I am 
 
 * Cum mulieribus fere atque etiara cum uxore nonnisi lusus jocosquo 
 Iractat. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 536. 
 
 + Quantum ibi devorabatur ovorum putrium, quantum vini putris hau- 
 riebatur. Erasm. Colloq. p. 5H4.
 
 A ROYAL SCHOOL-ROOM ERASMUS AND PRINCE EENRY. 117 
 
 delighted with your England," he wrote to Lord Montjoy 
 from Oxford. " With such men I could willingly live in the 
 farthest coasts of Scythia."* 
 
 But if Erasmus on the banks of the Thames found a 
 Maecenas in Lord Montjoy, a Labeo and perhaps a Virgil in 
 More, he nowhere found an Augustus. One day as he was 
 expressing his regrets and his fears to More, the latter said : 
 " Come, let us go to Eltham, perhaps we shall find there 
 what you are looking for." They set out, More jesting all 
 the way, inwardly resolving to expiate his gaiety by a severe 
 scourging at night. On their arrival they were heartily wel- 
 comed by Lord and Lady Montjoy, the governor and gover- 
 ness of the king's children. As the two friends entered the 
 hall, a pleasing and unexpected sight greeted Erasmus. The 
 whole of the family were assembled, and they found them- 
 selves surrounded not only by some of the royal household, 
 but by the domestics of Lord Montjoy also. On the right 
 stood the Princess Margaret, a girl of eleven years, whose 
 great-grandson under the name of Stuart was to continue 
 the Tudor line in England ; on the left was Mary, a child 
 four years of age ; Edmund was in his nurse's arms ; and in 
 the middle of the circle, between his two sisters, stood a boy, 
 at that time only nine years old, whose handsome features, 
 royal carriage, intelligent eye, and exquisite courtesy ,ad an 
 extraordinary charm for Erasmus.-j- That boy was Henry, 
 duke of York, the king's second son, born on the 28th 
 June 1491. More, advancing towards the young prince, 
 presented to him some piece of his own writing ; and from 
 that hour Erasmus kept up a friendly intercourse with 
 Henry, which in all probability exercised a certain influence 
 over the destinies of England. The scholar of Rotterdam 
 was delighted to see the prince excel in all the manly sports 
 of the day. He sat his horse with perfect grace and rare 
 intrepidity, could hurl a javelin farther than any of his com- 
 panions, and having an excellent taste for music, he was 
 
 * Dici non potest quam mihi dulcescat Anglia tna vel in extrema 
 
 Scythia vivcro non recusem. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 311. 
 t Erasm. Ep. ad Botzhcm. J or tin. Appendix, p. 10&
 
 118 AETHUR AND CATHERINE. 
 
 already a performer on several instruments. The king took 
 care that he should -receive a learned education, for he des- 
 tined him to fill the see of Canterbury ; and the illustrious 
 Erasmus, noticing his aptitude for everything he undertook, 
 did his best to cut and polish this English diamond, that it 
 might glitter with the greater brilliancy. " He will begin 
 nothing that he will not finish," said the scholar. And it 
 is but too true, that this prince always attained his end, 
 even if it were necessary to tread on the bleeding bodies of 
 those he had loved. Flattered by the attentions of the 
 young Henry, attracted by his winning grace, charmed by 
 his wit, Erasmus on his return to the continent every- 
 where proclaimed that England at last had found its 
 Octavius. 
 
 As for Henry VII. he thought of everything but Virgil or 
 Augustus. Avarice and ambition were his predominant 
 tastes, which he gratified by the marriage of his eldest son 
 in 1501. Burgundy, Artois, Provence, and Brittany having 
 been recently united to France, the European powers felt the 
 necessity of combining against that encroaching state. It 
 was in consequence of this that Ferdinand of Aragon had 
 given his daughter Joanna to Philip of Austria, and that 
 Henry VII. asked the hand of his daughter Catherine, then 
 in heineixteenth year and the richest princess in Europe, for 
 Arthur prince of Wales, a youth about ten months younger. 
 The catholic king made one condition to the marriage of his 
 daughter. Warwick, the last of the Plantagenets and a pre- 
 tender to the crown, was confined in the Tower. Ferdinand, 
 to secure the certainty that Catherine would really ascend 
 the English throne, required that the unhappy prince should 
 be put to death. Nor did this alone satisfy the king of 
 Spain. Henry VII., who was not a cruel man, might con- 
 ceal Warwick, and say that he was no more. Ferdinand 
 demanded that the chancellor of Castile should be present at 
 the execution. The blood of Warwick was shed ; his head 
 rolled duly on the scaffold ; the Castilian chancellor verified 
 and registered the murder, and on the 14th November the 
 marriage was solemnized at St Paul's. At midnight the 
 prince and princess were conducted with great pomp to the
 
 DEATH OF PRINCE ARTHUK. 119 
 
 bridal-chamber.* These were ill-omened nuptials fated 
 to set the kings and nations of Christendom in battle against 
 each other, and to serve as a pretext for the external and 
 political discussions of the English Reformation. The 
 marriage of Catherine the Catholic was a marriage of 
 blood. 
 
 In the early part of 1502, Prince Arthur fell ill, and on the 
 2d of April he died. The necessary time was taken to be 
 sure that Catherine had no hope of becoming a mother, after 
 which the friend of Erasmus, the youthful Henry, was de- 
 clared heir to the crown, to the great joy of all the learned. 
 This prince did not forsake his studies : he spoke and wrote 
 in French, German, and Spanish with the facility of a 
 native; and England hoped to behold one day the most 
 learned of Christian kings upon the throne of Alfred the 
 Great. 
 
 A very different question however, filled the mind of the 
 covetous Henry VII. Must he restore to Spain the two 
 hundred thousand ducats which formed Catherine's dowry ? 
 Shall this rich heiress be permitted to marry some rival of 
 England ? To prevent so great a misfortune the king con- 
 ceived the project of uniting Henry to Arthur's widow. The 
 most serious objections were urged against it. " It is not 
 only inconsistent with propriety," said Warham, the primate, 
 " but the will of God himself is against it. It is declared in 
 His law that if a man shall take his brother's wife, it is an 
 vnclean thing (Lev. xx. 21) ; and in the Gospel John Baptist 
 says to Herod : It is not lawful for thee to have thy brothers 
 icife" (Mark vi. 18.) Fox, bishop of Winchester, suggested 
 that a dispensation might be procured from the pope, and in 
 December 1503, Julius II. granted a bull declaring that for 
 the sake of preserving union between the catholic princes he 
 authorized Catherine's marriage with the brother of her first 
 husband, accedente forsan copula camali. These four words 
 it is said, were inserted in the bull at the express desire of 
 the princess. All these details will be of importance in the 
 course of our history. The two parties were betrothed, but 
 
 * Principes summa nocte ad thalamum solemn! ritu deduct! soot 
 Sandcrus, do schismate Angl. p. 2.
 
 120 PROCLAMATION OP HENRY VHI. 
 
 not married in consideration of the youth of the prince of 
 Wales. 
 
 The second marriage projected by Henry VII. was ushered 
 in with auspices still less promising than the first. The 
 king having fallen sick and lost his queen, looked upon these 
 visitations as a divine judgment.* The nation murmured, 
 and demanded whether it was in the pope's power to permit 
 what God had forbidden, f The young prince, being in- 
 formed of his father's scruples and of the people's discontent, 
 declared, just before attaining his majority (27th June 1505), 
 in the presence of the bishop of Winchester and several royal 
 counsellors, that he protested against the engagement entered 
 into during his minority, and that he would never make 
 Catherine his wife. 
 
 His father's death, which made him free, made him also 
 recall this virtuous decision. In 1509, the hopes of the 
 learned seemed about to be realized. On the 9th of May, a 
 hearse decorated with regal pomp, bearing on a rich pall of 
 cloth of gold th x e mortal remains of Henry VIL, with his 
 sceptre and his crown, entered London, followed by a long 
 procession. The great officers of state, assembled round 
 the coffin, broke their staves and cast them into the vault, 
 and the heralds cried with a loud voice : " God send the 
 noble King Henry VIII. long life."J Such a cry perhaps 
 had never on any previous occasion been so joyfully repeated 
 by the people. The young king gratified the wishes of the 
 nation by ordering the arrest of Einpson and Dudley, who 
 were charged with extortion ; and he conformed to the en- 
 lightened counsels of his grandmother, by choosing the most 
 able ministers, and placing the archbishop of Canterbury as 
 lord-chancellor at their head. Warham was a man of great 
 capacity. The day was not too short for him to hear mass, 
 receive ambassadors, consult with the king in the royal 
 closet, entertain as many as two hundred guests at his table, 
 take his seat on the woolsack, and find time for his private de- 
 motions. The joy of the learned surpassed that of the people 
 
 * Morysin's Apomaxis. 
 
 t Herbert. Life of Henry VIII. p. 18. 
 
 J Leland's Collectanea, vol. iv. p. 309.
 
 ENTHUSIASM OF TUB LEAK NED. 121 
 
 The old king wanted none of their praises or congratulations, 
 for fear he should have to pay for them ; but now they could 
 give free course to their enthusiasm. Montjoy pronounced 
 the young king " divine ;" the Venetian ambassador likened 
 his port to Apollo's, and his noble chest to the torso of Mars ; 
 he was lauded both in Greek and Latin ; he was hailed as 
 the founder of a new era, and Henry seemed desirous of 
 meriting these eulogiums. Far from permitting himself to 
 be intoxicated by so much adulation, he said to Montjoy : 
 " Ah ! how I should like to be a scholar!"" Sire," replied 
 the courtier, " it is enough that you show your regard for 
 those who possess the learning you desire for yourself." 
 " How can I do otherwise," he replied with earnestness ; 
 "without them we hardly exist!" Montjoy immediately 
 communicated this to Erasmus. 
 
 Erasmus ! Erasmus ! the walls of Eltham, Oxford, and 
 London resounded with the name. The king could not live 
 without the learned ; nor the learned without Erasmus. This 
 scholar, who was an enthusiast for the young king, was no* 
 long in answering to the call. When Richard Pace, one of 
 the most accomplished men of that age, met the learned 
 Dutchman at Ferrara, the latter took from his pocket a little 
 box which he always carried with him : " You don't know," 
 he said, " what a treasure you have in England : I will just 
 show you ;" and he took from the box a letter of Henry's 
 expressing in Latin of considerable purity the tenderest re- 
 gard for his correspondent.* Immediately after the corona- 
 tion Montjoy "wrote to Erasmus : " Our Henry Octants, 
 or rather Octavius, is on the throne. Come and behold the 
 new star.-j- The heavens smile, the earth leaps for joy, and 
 all is (lowing with milk, nectar, and honey, f Avarice has 
 fled away, liberality has descended, scattering on every side 
 with gracious hand her bounteous largesses. Our king de- 
 
 * Scripsit ad me suapto manu litteras amantissimas. Erasra. vita 
 ad Ep. 
 
 + Ut hoc novum sidus aspicias. Ibid. p. 277 : an expression of Virgil, 
 speaking of the deified Augustus. 
 
 * Ridet .ether, exultat terra, omnia la:tis, omnia mellis, omnia nec- 
 taris 8unt plena. Ibid. 
 
 6*
 
 122 POPE JULIUS II. 
 
 sires not gold or precious stones, but virtue, glory, and im- 
 mortality." 
 
 In such glowing terms was the young king described by 
 a man who had seen him closely. Erasmus could resist no 
 longer : he bade the pope farewell, and hastened to London, 
 where he met with a hearty welcome from Henry. Science 
 and power embraced each other : England was about to 
 have its Medici ; and the friends of learning no longer 
 doubted of the regeneration of Britain. 
 
 Julius II., who had permitted Erasmus to exchange the 
 white frock of the monks for the black dress of the seculars,* 
 allowed him to depart without much regret. This pontiff 
 had little taste for letters, but was fond of war, hunting, and 
 the pleasures of the table. The English sent him a dish 
 to his taste in exchange for the scholar. Some time after 
 Erasmus had left, as the pope was one day reposing from 
 the fatigues of the chase, he heard voices near him singing 
 a strange song. He asked with surprise what it meant, f 
 " It is some Englishmen," was the answer, and three 
 foreigners entered the room, each bearing a closely-covered 
 jar, which the youngest presented on his knees. This was 
 Thomas Cromwell, who appears here for the first time on 
 the historic scene. He was the son of a blacksmith of 
 Putney ; but he possessed a mind so penetrating, a judg- 
 ment so sound, a heart so bold, ability so consummate, such 
 easy elocution, such an accurate memory, such great activity, 
 and so able a pen, that the most brilliant career was fore- 
 boded him. At the age of twenty he left England, being 
 desirous to see the world, and began life as a clerk in the 
 English factory at Antwerp. Shortly after this two fellow- 
 countrymen from Boston came to him in their embarrass- 
 ment. " What do you want ? " he asked them. " Our 
 townsmen have sent us to the pope," they told him, " to get 
 the renewal of the greater and lesser pardons, whose term is 
 nearly run, and which are necessary for the repair of our har- 
 bour. But we do not know how to appear before him." 
 
 * Vestem albam commutavit in nigram. Epp. ad Servat. 
 f The pope suddenly marvelling %t the strangeness of the song. Foxe, 
 Acts, v. p. 364, ed. Lond. 1838.
 
 CROMWELL AND THE POPE. 123 
 
 Cromwell, prompt to undertake everything, an.l knowing a 
 little Italian, replied, " I will go with you." Then slapping 
 his forehead he muttered to himself: " What fish can I throw 
 out as a bait to these greedy cormorants ? " A friend in- 
 rormed him that the pope was very fond of dainties. Crom- 
 well immediately ordered some exquisite jelly to be prepared, 
 after the English fashion, and set out for Italy with his pro- 
 visions and his two companions. 
 
 This was the man who appeared before Julius after his 
 return from the chase. "Kings and princes alone eat of 
 this preserve in -England," said Cromwell to the pope. One 
 cardinal, who was a greedier " cormorant " than his master, 
 eagerly tasted the delicacy. " Try it," he exclaimed, and the 
 pope, relishing this new confectionary, immediately signed 
 the pardons, on condition however that the receipt for the 
 Jelly should be left with him. " And thus were the jelly- 
 pardons obtained," says the annalist. It was Cromwell's 
 first exploit, and the man who began his busy career by pre- 
 senting jars of confectionary to the pope was also the man 
 destined to separate England from Rome. 
 
 The court of the pontiff was not the only one in Europe 
 devoted to gaiety. Hunting parties were as common in 
 London as at Rome. The young king and his companions 
 were at that time absorbed in balls, banquets, and the other 
 festivities inseparable from a new reign. He recollected how- 
 ever that he must give a queen to his people : Catherine of 
 Aragon was still in England, and the council recommended 
 her for his wife. He admired her piety without caring to 
 imitate it;* he was pleased with her love for literature, and 
 even felt some inclination towards her. -j- His advisers re- 
 presented to him that " Catherine, daughter of the illustrious 
 Isabella of Castile, was the image of her mother. Like her, 
 she possessed that wisdom and greatness of mind which win 
 the respect of nations ; and that if she carried to any of his 
 rivals her marriage-portion and the Spanish alliance, the 
 long-contested crown of England would soon fall from his 
 head "We have the pope's dispensation : will you be more 
 
 * Admirabatur quidem uxoris sanctitatem. Sanders, p. 5. 
 t Ut amor plus apud regem posset. Morysin, Apom. p. 14.
 
 124 CATHERINE PROPOSEL TO E3NRY HENRY*S COURT. 
 
 scrupulous than he is?"* The archbishop of Canterbury 
 opposed in vain : Henry gave way, and on the eleventh of 
 June, about seven weeks after his father's death, the nuptials 
 were privately celebrated. On the twenty-third the king 
 and queen went in state through the city, the bride wearing 
 a white satin dress with her hair hanging down her back 
 nearly to her feet. On the next day they were crowned at 
 Westminster with great magnificence. 
 
 Then followed a series of expensive entertainments. The 
 treasures which the nobility had long concealed from fear of 
 the old king, were now brought out ; the ladies glittered 
 with gold and diamonds ; and the king and queen, whom the 
 people never grew tired of admiring, amused themselves like 
 children with the splendour of their royal robes. Henry 
 VIII. was the forerunner of Louis XIV. Naturally inclined 
 to pomp and pleasure, the idol of his people, a devoted ad- 
 mirer of female beauty, and the husband of almost as many 
 wives as Louis had adulterous mistresses, he made the court 
 of England what the son of Anne of Austria made the court 
 of France, one constant scene of amusements. He thought 
 he could never get to the end of the riches amassed by his 
 prudent father. His youth for he was only eighteen the 
 gaiety of his disposition, the grace he displayed in all bodily 
 exercises, the tales of chivalry in which he delighted, and 
 which even the clergy recommended to their high-born 
 hearers, the flattery of his courtiers -J- all these combined to 
 set his young imagination in a ferment. Wherever he ap- 
 peared, all were filled with admiration of his handsome coun- 
 tenance and graceful figure : such is the portrait bequeathed 
 to us by his greatest enemy. | "His brow was made to 
 wear the crown, and his majestic port the kingly mantle," 
 adds Noryson. 
 
 Henry resolved to realize without delay the chivalrous 
 
 * Herbert's Henry VIII., p. 7. Fuller's Church Hist. Book V. p. 165. 
 Erasrn. Epp. ad Amerb. p. 19. 
 
 f Tyndale, Obedience of a Christian Man (1528). 
 
 J Eximia corporis forma prseditus, in qua etiam regiae majcstatis 
 augusta qucedam specios elucebat. Sandems de Schism., p. 4. 
 
 Tumor, Hist. Engl. i. p. '2.
 
 COURT AMUSEMENTS. 125 
 
 combats and fabulous splendours of the heroes of the Round 
 Table, as if to prepare himself for those more real struggles 
 which he would one day have to maintain against the papacy. 
 At the sound of the trumpet the youthful monarch would 
 enter the lists, clad in costly armour, and wearing a plume 
 that fell gracefully down to the saddle of his rigorous cour- 
 ser; "like an untamed bull," says an historian, "which 
 breaks away from its yoke and rushes into the arena." On 
 one occasion, at the celebration of the queen's churching, 
 Catherine with her ladies was seated in a tent of purple and 
 gold, in the midst of an artificial forest, strewn with rocks 
 and variegated with flowers. On a sudden a monk stepped 
 forward, wearing a long brown robe, and kneeling before her, 
 begged permission to run a course. It was granted, and 
 rising up he threw aside his coarse frock, and appeared gor- 
 geously armed for the tourney. He was Charles Brandon, 
 afterwards duke of Suffolk, one of the handsomest and 
 strongest men in the kingdom, and the first after Henry in 
 military exercises. He was followed by a number of others 
 dressed in black velvet, with wide-brimmed hats on their 
 heads, staffs in their hands, and scarfs across their shoulders 
 ornamented with cockle-shells, like pilgrims from St James 
 of Compostella. These also threw off their disguise, and 
 stood forth in complete armour. At their head was Sir 
 Thomas Boleyn, whose daughter was fated to surpass in 
 beauty, greatness, and misfortune, all the women of Eng- 
 land. The tournament began. Henry, who has been com- 
 pared to Amadis in boldness, to the lion-hearted Richard in 
 courage, and to Edward III. in courtesy, did not always 
 escape danger in these chivalrous contests. One day the 
 king had forgotten to lower his vizor, and Brandon, his oppo- 
 nent, setting off at full gallop, the spectators noticed the 
 oversight, and cried out in alarm. But nothing could stop 
 their horses : the two cavaliers met. Suffolk's lance was 
 shivered against Henry, and the fragments struck him in 
 the face. Every one thought the king was dead, and some 
 were running to arrest Brandon, when Henry, recover- 
 ing from the blow which had fallen on his helmet, re- 
 commenced the combat, and ran six new courses amid the.
 
 126 THE POPE EXCITES TO WAR. 
 
 admiring cries of his subjects. This intrepid courage changed 
 as he grew older into unsparing cruelty ; and it was this 
 young tiger, whose movements were then so graceful, that 
 at no distant day tore with his bloody fangs the mother of 
 his children. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The Pope excites to War Colet's Sermon at St Paul's The Flemish 
 Campaign Marriage of Louis XII. and Princess Mary Letter from 
 Anne Boleyn Marriage of Brandon and Mary Oxford Sir Thomas 
 More at Court Attack upon the Monasteries Colet's Household He 
 preaches Reform The Greeks and Trojans. 
 
 A MESSAGE from the pope stopped Henry in the midst of 
 these amusements. In Scotland, Spain, France, and Italy, 
 the young king had nothing but friends a harmony which 
 the papacy was intent on disturbing. One day, immediately 
 after high-mass had been celebrated, the archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, on behalf of Julius II. laid at his feet a golden rose, 
 which had been blessed by the pope, anointed with holy oil, 
 and perfumed with musk.* It was accompanied by a letter 
 saluting him as head of the Italian league. The warlike 
 pontiff having reduced the Venetians, desired to humble 
 France, and to employ Henry as the instrument of his 
 vengeance. Henry, only a short time before, had renewed 
 his alliance with Louis XII. ; but the pope was not to be 
 baffled by such a trifle as that, and the young king soon 
 began to dream of rivalling the glories of Crecy, Poitiers, 
 and Agincourt. To no purpose did his wisest councillors 
 represent to him that England, in the most favourable times, 
 had never been able to hold her ground in France, and that 
 the sea was the true field open to her conquests. Julius, 
 knowing his vanity, had promised to deprive Louis of the 
 title of Most Christian king, and confer it upon him. " His 
 
 * Odorifiof musoo aspersam. Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. G52.
 
 DEAN COLET'S SERMON. 127 
 
 holiness hopes that your Grace will utterly exterminate the 
 king of France," wrote the king's agent.* Henry saw no- 
 thing objectionable in this very unapostolic mission, and 
 decided on substituting the terrible game of war for the 
 gentler sports of peace. 
 
 In the spring of 1511, after some unsuccessful attempts 
 by his generals, Henry determined to invade France in per- 
 son. He was in the midst of his preparations when the 
 festival of Easter arrived. Dean Colet had been appointed 
 to preach before Henry on Good Friday, and in the course 
 of his sarmon he showed more courage than could have been 
 expected in a scholar, for a spark of the Christian spirit was 
 glowing in his bosom. He chose for the subject of his dis- 
 course Christ's victory over death and the grave. " Who- 
 ever takes up arms from ambition," said he, " fights not 
 under the standard of Christ, but of Satan. If ypu desire to 
 contend against your enemies, follow Jesus Christ as your 
 prince and captain, rather than Caesar or Alexander." His 
 hearers looked at each other with astonishment ; the friends 
 of polite literature became alarmed ; and the priests, who 
 were getting uneasy at the uprising of the human mind, 
 hoped to profit by this opportunity of inflicting a deadly 
 blow on their antagonists. There were among them men 
 whose opinions we must condemn, while we cannot forbear 
 respecting their zeal for what they believed to be the truth : of 
 this number were Bricot, Fitzjames, and above all Standish. 
 Their zeal, however, went a little too far on this occasion : 
 they even talked of burning the dean.-J- After the sermon, 
 Colet was informed that the king requested his attendance 
 in the garden of the Franciscan monastery, and immediately 
 the priests and monks crowded round the gate, hoping to see 
 their adversary led forth as a criminal. " Let us be alone," 
 said Henry ; " put on your cap, Master Dean, and we will 
 take a walk. Cheer up," he continued, " you have nothing to 
 fear. You have spoken admirably of Christian charity, and 
 have almost reconciled me to the king of France ; yet, as 
 
 * Letter of Cardinal Bembridge. Cotton MSS. Vitell. B. 2, p. 8. 
 f Dr Colet was in trouble and should have been burnt. Latimer's 
 Sermons. Parker edition, p. 440.
 
 128 A KOYAL CAMPAIGN. 
 
 the contest is not one of choice, but of necessity, I must beg 
 of you in some future sermon to explain this to my people. 
 Unless you do so, I fear my soldiers may misunderstand 
 your meaning." Colet was not a John Baptist, and, affected 
 by the king's condescension, he gave the required explana- 
 tion. The king was satisfied, and exclaimed : " Let every 
 man have his doctor as he pleases ; this man is my doctor, 
 and I will drink his health !" Henry was then young : very 
 different was the fashion with which in after-years he treated 
 those who opposed him. 
 
 At heart the king cared little more about the victories of 
 Alexander than of Jesus Christ. Having fitted out hi"s army, 
 he embarked at the end of June, accompanied by his almoner, 
 Wolsey, who was rising into favour, and set out for the war 
 as if for a tournament. Shortly after this, he went, all glit- 
 tering with jewels, to meet the Emperor Maximilian, who 
 received him in a plain doublet and cloak of black serge. 
 After his victory at the battle of Spurs, Henry, instead of 
 pressing forward to the conquest of France, returned to the 
 siege of Terouenne, wasted his time in jousts and entertain- 
 ments, conferred on Wolsey the bishopric of Tournay which 
 he had just captured, and then returned to England, delighted 
 at having made so pleasant an excursion. 
 
 Louis XII. was a widower in his 53d year, and bowed 
 down by the infirmities of a premature old age ; but being 
 desirous of preventing, at any cost, the renewal of the war, 
 he sought the hand of Henry's sister, the Princess Mary, 
 then in her 16th year. Her affections were already fixed 
 on Charles Brandon, and for him she would have sacrificed 
 the splendour of a throne. But reasons of state opposed 
 their union. " The princess," remarked Wolsey, " will soon 
 return to England a widow with a royal dowry." This 
 decided the question. The disconsolate Mary, who was an 
 object of universal pity, embarked at Dover with a numerous 
 train, and from Boulogne, where she was received by the 
 duke of Angouleme, she was conducted to the king, elated 
 at the idea of marrying the handsomest princess in Europe. 
 
 Among Mary's attendants was the youthful Anne Boleyn. 
 Her father, Sir Thomas Boleyn, had been charged by Henry,
 
 LETTER FROM ANNE BOLEYN. 129 
 
 conjointly with the bishop of Ely, with the diplomatic nego- 
 tiations preliminary to this marriage. Anne had passed her 
 childhood at Hever castle, surrounded by all that could heat 
 the imagination. Her maternal grandfather, the earl of Sur- 
 rey, whose eldest son had married the sister of Henry the 
 Seventh's queen, had filled, as did his sons also, the most 
 important offices of state. At the age probably of fourteen, 
 when summoned by her father to court, she wrote him the 
 following letter in French, which appears to refer to her 
 departure for France : 
 * 
 
 " SIR, I find by your letter that you wish me to appeal 
 at court in a manner becoming a respectable female, and 
 likewise that the queen will condescend to enter into conver- 
 sation with me ; at this I rejoice, as I do to think, that con- 
 versing with so sensible and elegant a princess will make 
 me even more desirous of continuing to speak and to write 
 good French ; the more as it is by your earnest advice, which 
 (I acquaint you by this present writing) I shall follow to the 
 best of my ability. .....As to myself, rest assured that I shall 
 
 not ungratefully look upon this fatherly office as one that 
 might be dispensed with ; nor will it tend to diminish my 
 affection, quest [wish], and deliberation to lead as holy a life 
 as you may please to desire of me ; indeed my love for you 
 is founded on so firm a basis that it can never be impaired. 
 I put an end to this my lucubration after having very hum- 
 bly craved your good will and affection. Written at Hever, 
 
 by 
 
 " Your very humble and obedient daughter, 
 
 " ANNA DE BOULLAN."* 
 
 Such were the feelings under which this young and in- 
 teresting lady, so calumniated by papistical writers, appeared 
 at court. 
 
 The marriage was celebrated at Abbeville on the 9th of 
 
 " The French original is preserved among Archbishop Parker's MSS. 
 at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. The translation in the text is 
 (with a slight variation) from Sir H. Ellis'a Collection of royal and other 
 letters, vol. ii. second series. 
 
 W*
 
 130 MARY MAKRIES BRANDON. 
 
 Octobei 1514, and after a sumptuous banquet, the king of 
 France distributed his royal largesses among the English 
 lords, who were charmed by his courtesy. Bsrt the morrow 
 was a day of trial to the young queen. Louis XII. had 
 dismissed the numerous train which had accompanied her, 
 and even Lady Guildford, to whom Henry had specially 
 confided her. Three only were left, of whom the youthful 
 Anne Boleyn was one. At this separation, Mary gave way 
 to the keenest sorrow. To cheer her spirits, Louis pro- 
 claimed a grand tournament. Brandon hastened to France 
 at its first announcement, and carried off all the prizes ; 
 while the king, languidly reclining on a couch, could with 
 difficulty look upon the brilliant spectacle over which his 
 queen presided, sick at heart yet radiant with youth and 
 beauty. Mary was unable to conceal her emotion, and 
 Louisa of Savoy, who was watching her, divined her secret. 
 But Louis, if he experienced the tortures of jealousy, did 
 not feel them long, for his death took place on the 1st 
 January 1515. 
 
 Even before her husband's funeral was over, Mary's heart 
 beat high with hope. Francis I., impatient to see her 
 wedded to some unimportant political personage, encouraged 
 her love for Brandon. The latter, who had been commis- 
 sioned by Henry to convey to her his letters of condolence, 
 feared his master's anger if he should dare aspire to the 
 hand of the princess. But the widowed queen, who was 
 resolved to brave everything, told her lover : (< Either you 
 marry me in four days or you see me no more." The choice 
 the king had made of his ambassador announced that he 
 would not behave very harshly. The marriage was cele- 
 brated in the abbey of Clugny, and Henry pardoned them. 
 
 While Mary returned to England, as Wolsey had pre- 
 dicted, Anne Boleyn remained in France. Her father, de- 
 siring his daughter to become an accomplished woman, 
 intrusted her to the care of the virtuous Claude of France, 
 the good queen, at whose court the daughters of the first 
 families of the kingdom were trained. Margaret, duchess 
 of Alenc,on, the sister of Francis, and afterwards queen of 
 Navarre, often charmed the queen's circle by her lively con-
 
 OXFOBD SIR THOMAS MORE AT COURT. 131 
 
 versation. She soon became deeply attached to the young 
 Englishwoman, and on the death of Claude took her into her 
 own family. Anne Boleyn was destined at no very remote 
 period to be at the court of London a reflection of the grace- 
 ful Margaret, and her relations with that princess were not 
 without influence on the English lleformation. 
 
 Arid indeed the literary movement which had passed from 
 Italy into France appeared at that time as if it would cross 
 from France into Britain. Oxford exercises over England 
 as great an influence as the metropolis; and it is almost 
 always within its walls that a movement commences whether 
 for good or evil. At this period of our history, an enthusi- 
 astic youth hailed with joy the first beams of the new sun, 
 and attacked with their sarcasms the idleness of the monks, 
 the immorality of the clergy, and the superstition of the 
 people. Disgusted with the priestcraft of the middle ages, 
 and captivated by the writers of antiquity and the purity of 
 the Gospel, Oxford boldly called for a reform which should 
 burst the bonds of clerical domination and emancipate the 
 human mind. Men of letters thought for a while that they 
 had found the most powerful man in England in Wolsey, 
 the ally that would give them the victory. 
 
 He possessed little taste for learning, but seeing the wind 
 of public favour blow in that direction, he readily spread his 
 sails before it. He got the reputation of a profound divine, 
 by quoting a few words of Thomas Aquinas, and the fame 
 of a Maecenas and Ptolemy, by inviting the learned to his 
 gorgeous entertainments. " happy cardinal," exclaimed 
 Erasmus, " who can surround his table with such torches!"* 
 
 At that time the king felt the same ambition as his 
 minister, and having tasted in turn the pleasures of war and 
 diplomacy, he now bent his mind to literature. He desired 
 Wolsey to present Sir Thomas More to him. " What shall 
 I do at court ?" replied the latter. " I shall be as awkward 
 as a man that never rode sitteth in a saddle." Happy in 
 his family circle, where his father, mother, and children, 
 gathering round the same table, formed a pleasing group, 
 which the pencil of Holbein has transmitted to us, More 
 
 * Cnjus meiua talibus luminibus cingitur. Erasm. Ep. p. 725.
 
 132 THE MONASTERIES ASSAILED. 
 
 had no desire to leave it. But Henry was not a man to put 
 up with a refusal ; he employed force almost to draw More 
 from his retirement, and in a short time he could not live 
 without the society of the man of letters. On calm and 
 starlight nights they would walk together upon the leads at 
 the top of the palace, discoursing on the motions of the 
 heavenly bodies. If More did not appear at court, Henry 
 would go to Chelsea and share the frugal dinner of the 
 family with some of their simple neighbours. " Where," 
 asked Erasmus, "where is the Athens, the Porch, or the 
 Academe, that can be compared with the court of England? 
 
 It is a seat of the muses rather than a palace The 
 
 golden age is reviving, and I congratulate the world." 
 
 But the friends of classical learning were not content with 
 the cardinal's banquets or the king's favours. They wanted 
 victories, and their keenest darts were aimed at the cloisters, 
 those strong fortresses of the hierarchy and of uncleanness.* 
 The abbot of Saint Albans, having taken a married woman 
 for his concubine, and placed her at the head of a nunnery, 
 his monks had followed his example, and indulged in the 
 most scandalous debauchery. Public indignation was so 
 far aroused, that Wolsey himself Wolsey, the father of 
 several illegitimate children, and who was suffering the 
 penalty of his irregularities-}- was carried away by the 
 spirit of the age, and demanded of the pope a general reform 
 of manners. When they heard of this request, the priests 
 and friars were loud in their outcries. "What are you 
 about?" said they to Wolsey. " You are giving the victory 
 to the enemies of the church, and your only reward will be 
 the hatred of the whole world." As this was not the car- 
 dinal's game, he abandoned his project, and conceived one 
 more easily executed. Wishing to deserve the name of 
 " Ptolemy" conferred on him by Erasmus, he undertook to 
 build two large colleges, one at Ipswich, his native town, 
 the other at Oxford; and found it convenient to take the 
 money necessary for their endowment, not from his own 
 
 * Loca sacra ctiam ipsa Dei templa monialium stupro et sanguinis et 
 seminis effusione profanare noil verentur. Papal bull. Wilkins, Con- 
 cilia, p. 632. t Morbus vcnereus. Buruet.
 
 WOLSEY'S TWO COLLEGES. 133 
 
 purse, but from the purses of the monks. He pointed out 
 to the pope twenty-two monasteries in which (he said) vice 
 and impiety had taken up their abode.* The pope granted 
 their secularization, and Wolsey having thus procured a 
 revenue of 2000 sterling, laid the foundations cf his 
 college, traced out various courts, and constructed spacious 
 kitchens. He fell into disgrace before he had completed his 
 work, which led Gualter to say with a sneer : " He began 
 a college and built a cook's shop."f But a great example 
 had been set : the monasteries had been attacked, and the 
 first breach made in them by a cardinal. Cromwell, Wol- 
 sey's secretary, remarked how his master had set about his 
 work, and in after-years profited by the lesson. 
 
 It was fortunate for letters that they had sincerer friends 
 in London than Wolsey. Of these were Colet, dean of St 
 Paul's, whose house was the centre of the literary movement 
 which preceded the Reformation, and his friend and guest 
 Erasmus. The latter was the hardy pioneer who opened 
 the road of antiquity to modern Europe. One day he would 
 entertain Colet's guests with the account of a new manu- 
 script ; on another, with a discussion on the forms of ancient 
 literature ; and at other times he would attack the school- 
 men and monks, when Colet would take the same side. 
 The only antagonist who dared measure his strength with 
 him was Sir Thomas More, who, although a layman, stoutly 
 defended the ordinances of the church. 
 
 But mere table-talk could not satisfy the dean : a numer- 
 ous audience attended his sermons at St Paul's. The spirit- 
 uality of Christ's words, the authority which characterizes 
 them, their admirable simplicity and mysterious depth, had 
 deeply charmed him : " I admire the writings of the apostles," 
 he would say, " but I forget them almost, when I contemplate 
 the wonderful majesty of Jesus Christ."| Setting aside the 
 texts prescribed by the church, he explained, like Zwingle, 
 
 * Wherein much vice and wickedness was harboured. Strypo, i. 169. 
 The names of the monasteries are given. Ibid. ii. 132. 
 
 f Instituit collegium et absolvit popinam. Fuller, cent. xvi. p. 169. 
 
 Ita suspiciebat admirabileia illam Christi majestatem. Erasm. Epp 
 707.
 
 134 COLET PREACHES THE REFORMATION. 
 
 the Gospel of St Matthew. Nor did he stop here. Taking 
 advantage of the Convocation, he delivered a sermon on 
 conformation and reformation, which was one of the numer- 
 ous forerunners of the great reform of the sixteenth century. 
 " We see strange and heretical ideas appear in our days, and 
 no wonder," said he. " But you must know there is no 
 heresy more dangerous to the church than the vicious lives 
 of its priests. A reformation is needed ; and that reforma- 
 tion must begin with the bishops and be extended to the 
 priests. The clergy once reformed, we shall proceed to the 
 reformation of the people."* Thus spoke Colet, while the 
 citizens of London listened to him with rapture, and called 
 him a new Saint Paul.-j- 
 
 Such discourses could not be allowed to pass unpunished. 
 Fitzjames, bishop of London, was a superstitious obstinate 
 old man of eighty, fond of money, excessively irritable, a 
 poor theologian, and a slave to Duns Scotus, the subtle doc- 
 tor. Calling to his aid two other bishops as zealous as him- 
 self for the preservation of abuses, namely, Bricot and 
 Standish, he denounced the dean of St Paul's to Warham. 
 The archbishop having inquired what he had done : " What 
 has he done ?" rejoined the bishop of London. " He teaches 
 that we must not worship images ; he translates the Lord's 
 Prayer into English; he pretends that the text Feed my 
 sheep, does not include the temporal supplies the clergy 
 draw from their flock. And besides all this," he continued 
 with some embarrassment, "he has spoken against those 
 who carry their manuscripts into the pulpit and read their 
 sermons !" As this was the bishop's practice, the primate 
 could not refrain from smiling ; and since Colet refused to 
 justify himself, Warham did so for him. 
 
 From that time Colet laboured with fresh zeal to scatter 
 the darkness. He devoted the larger portion of his fortune 
 to found the celebrated school of St Paul, of which the 
 learned Lilly was the first master. Two parties, the Greeks 
 and the Trojans, entered the lists, not to contend with sword 
 and spear, as in the ancient epic, but with the tongue, the 
 
 * Colet, Sermon to the Convocation. 
 
 * Pcne apostolus Paulus habitus est. Polyd. Virg. p. SIR.
 
 TWO PARTIES, THE GREEKS AND TROJANS. 135 
 
 pen, and sometimes the fist. If the Trojans (the obscur- 
 ants) were defeated in the public disputations, they had 
 their revenge in the secret of the confessional. Cave a 
 Greeds ne fias hereticus* was the watchword of the priests 
 their daily lesson to the youths under their care. They 
 looked on the school founded by Colet as the monstrous 
 horse of the perjured Sinon, and announced that from its 
 bosom would inevitably issue the destruction of the people. 
 Colet and Erasmus replied to the monks by inflicting fresh 
 blows. Linacre, a thorough literary enthusiast, Grocyn, a 
 man of sarcastic humour but generous heart, and many 
 others, reinforced the Grecian phalanx. Henry himself 
 used to take one of them with him during his journeys, and 
 if any unlucky Trojan ventured in his presence to attack 
 the tongue of Plato and of St Paul, the young king would 
 set his Hellenian on him. Not more numerous were the 
 contests witnessed in times of yore on the classic banks of 
 Xanthus and Sirnois. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Wolsey His first Commission His Complaisance and Dioceses Cardi- 
 nal, Chancellor, and Legate Ostentation and Necromancy His Spies 
 and Enmity Pretensions of the Clergy. 
 
 JUST as everything seemed tending to a reformation, a power- 
 ful priest rendered the way more difficult. 
 
 One of the most striking personages of the age was then 
 making his appearance on the stage of the world. It was 
 the destiny of that man, in the reign of Henry VIII., to 
 combine extreme ability with extreme immorality ; and to 
 be a new and striking example of the wholesome truth that 
 immorality is more effectual to destroy a man than ability 
 to save him. Wolsey was the last high-priest of Rome in 
 
 * Boware of the Greeks, lest you should become a heretic.
 
 136 WOLSEY HIS FIRST SERVICES UNDER HENRY VII. 
 
 England, and when his fall startled the nation, it was the 
 signal of a still more striking fall the fall of popery. 
 
 Thomas Wolsey, the son of a wealthy butcher of Ips- 
 wich, according to the common story, which is sanctioned 
 by high authority, had attained under Henry VII. the post 
 of almoner, at the recommendation of Sir Eichard Nanfau, 
 treasurer of Calais and an old patron of his. But Wolsey 
 was .not at all desirous of passing his life in saying mass. 
 As soon as he had discharged the regular duties of his office, 
 instead of spending the rest of the day in idleness, as his 
 colleagues did, he strove to win the good graces of the per- 
 sons round the king. 
 
 Fox, bishop of Winchester, keeper of the privy-seal un- 
 der Henry VII., uneasy at the growing power of the earl of 
 Surrey, looked about for a man to counterbalance him. He 
 thought he had found such a one in Wolsey. It was to 
 oppose the Surreys, the grandfather and uncles of Anne 
 Boleyn, that the son of the Ipswich butcher was drawn 
 from his obscurity. This is not an unimportant circum- 
 stance in our narrative. Fox began to praise Wolsey in 
 the king's hearing, and at the same tima he encouraged the 
 almoner to give himself to public affairs. The latter was not 
 deaf,* and soon found an opportunity of winning^ his sove- 
 reign's favour. 
 
 The king having business of importance with the em- 
 peror, who was then in Flanders, sent for Wolsey, explained 
 his wishes, and ordered him to prepare to set out. The 
 chaplain determined to show Henry VII. how capable he 
 was of serving him. It was long past noon when he took 
 (cave of the king at Richmond at four o'clock he was in 
 London, at seven at Gravesend. By travelling all night he 
 reached Dover just as the packet-boat was about to sail. 
 After a passage of three hours he reached Calais, whence he 
 travelled post, and the same evening appeared before Maxi- 
 milian. Having obtained what he desired, he set off again 
 by night, and on the next day but one reached Richmond, 
 three days and some few hours after his departure. The 
 king, catching sight of him just as he was going to mass, 
 
 * lla:c Wolseius non surdis audierit auribus. Polyd. Virg. p. 622.
 
 HIS ECCLESIASTICAL PROMOTION. 137 
 
 sharply inquired, why lie had not set out. " Sire, I am just 
 returned," answered Wolsey, placing the emperor's letters in 
 his master's hands. Henry was delighted, and Wolsey saw 
 that his fortune was made. 
 
 The courtiers hoped at first that Wolsey, like an inexpe- 
 rienced pilot, would run his vessel on some hidden rqck ; 
 but never did helmsman manage his ship with more skill. 
 Although twenty years older than Henry VIII. the almoner 
 danced, and sang, and laughed with the prince's companions, 
 and amused his new master with tales of scandal and quota- 
 tions from Thomas Aquinas. The young king found his 
 house a temple of paganism, a shrine of voluptuousness;* 
 and while Henry's councillors were entreating him to leave 
 his pleasures and attend to business, Wolsey was contin- 
 ually reminding him that he ought to devote his youth to 
 learning and amusement, and leave the toils of government 
 to others. Wolsey was created bishop of Tournay during 
 the campaign in Flanders, and on his return to England, 
 was raised to the sees of Lincoln and of York. Three mitres 
 had been placed on his head in one year. He found at last 
 the vein he so ardently sought for. 
 
 And yet he was not satisfied. The archbishop of Can- 
 terbury had insisted, as primate, that the cross of York 
 should be lowered to his. Wolsey was not of a disposition 
 to concede this, and when he found that Warham was not 
 content with being his equal, he resolved to make him his 
 inferior. He wrote to Paris and to Rome. Francis I., who 
 desired to conciliate England, demanded the purple for Wol- 
 sey, and the archbishop of York received the title of Cardinal 
 St Cecilia beyond the Tiber. In November 1515, his hat 
 was brought by the envoy of the pope : " It would have 
 been better to have given him a Tyburn tippet," said some 
 indignant Englishmen ; " these Romish hats never brought 
 good into England" { a saying that has become proverbial. 
 
 This was not enough for Wolsey : he desired secular great- 
 ness above all things. Warham, tired of contending with so 
 arrogant a rival, resigned the seals, and the king immo- 
 
 * Dotni sure voluptatum omnium sacrarium fecit. Polyd. Virg. p. 623 
 t Latimer's Sermons (Parker Society), jv 1 19. 
 VOL. V. 7
 
 138 WOLSEY'S OSTENTATION. 
 
 diately transferred them to the cardinal. At length a bull 
 appointed him legate a latere of the holy see, and placed un- 
 der his jurisdiction all the colleges, monasteries, spiritual 
 courts, bishops, and the primate himself (1519). From that 
 time, as lord-chancellor of England and legate, Wolsey 
 administered everything in church and state. He filled his 
 coffers with money procured both at home and from abroad, 
 and yielded without restraint to his dominant vices, ostenta- 
 tion and pride. Whenever he appeared in public, two priests, 
 the tallest and comeliest that could be found, carried before 
 him two huge silver crosses, one to mark his dignity as 
 archbishop, the other as papal legate. Chamberlains, gen- 
 tlemen, pages, sergeants, chaplains, choristers, clerks, cup- 
 bearers, cooks, and other domestics, to the number of more 
 than 500, among whom were nine or ten lords and the state- 
 liest yeomen of the country, filled his palace. He generally 
 wore a dress of scarlet velvet and silk, with hat and gloves 
 of the same colour. His shoes were embroidered with gold 
 and silver, inlaid with pearls and precious stones. A kind of 
 papacy was thus forming in England ; for wherever pride 
 flourishes there popery is developed. 
 
 One thing occupied Wolsey more than all the pomp with 
 which he was surrounded : his desire, namely, to captivate 
 the king. For this purpose he cast Henry's nativity, and 
 procured an amulet which he wore constantly, in order to 
 charm his master by its magic properties.* Then having re- 
 course to a still more effectual necromancy, he selected from 
 among the licentious companions of the young monarch 
 those of the keenest discernment and most ambitious charac- 
 ter ; and after binding them to him by a solemn oath, he 
 placed them at court to be as eyes and ears to him. Accord- 
 ingly not a word was said in the presence of the monarch, 
 particularly against Wolsey, of which he was not informed 
 an hour afterwards. If the culprit was not in favour, he 
 was expelled without mercy ; in the contrary case, the minis- 
 ter sent him on some distant mission. The queen's ladies, 
 
 * He calked [calculated] the king's nativity he made by craft of 
 
 necromancy graven imagery to bear upon him, wherewith he bewitched 
 the king's mind. Tyndale's Expositions (Parker Soe.), p. 303.
 
 HATED BY THE PEOPLE. 139 
 
 the king's chaplains, and even their confessois, were the car- 
 dinal's spies. He pretended to omnipresence, as the pope to 
 infallibility. 
 
 Wolsey was not devoid of certain showy virtues, for he 
 was liberal to the poor even to affectation, and as chancellor 
 inexorable to every kind of irregularity, and strove particu- 
 larly to make the rich and high-born bend beneath his 
 power. Men of learning alone obtained from him some lit- 
 tle attention, and hence Erasmus calls him " the Achates of 
 a new JEneas." But the nation was not to be carried away 
 by the eulogies of a few scholars. Wolsey a man of more 
 than suspected morals, double-hearted, faithless to his pro- 
 mises, oppressing the people with heavy taxes, and exceed- 
 ingly arrogant to everybody Wolsey soon became hated 
 by the people of England. 
 
 The elevation of a prince of the Roman Church could not 
 be favourable to the Reformation. The priests, encouraged 
 by it, determined to make a stand against the triple attack 
 of the learned, the reformers, and the state ; and they soon 
 had an opportunity of trying their strength. Holy orders 
 had become during the middle ages a warrant for every sort 
 of crime. Parliament, desirous of correcting this abuse and 
 checking the encroachments of the church, declared in the 
 year 1513, that any ecclesiastic, accused of theft or murder, 
 should be tried before the secular tribunals. Exceptions, 
 however, were made in favour of bishops, priests, and dea- 
 cons that is to say, nearly all the clergy. Notwithstand- 
 ing this timid precaution, an insolent clerk, the abbot of 
 Winchelcomb, began the battle by exclaiming at St Paul's : 
 " Touch not mine anointed, said the Lord." At the same 
 time Wolsey, accompanied by a long train of priests and 
 prelates, had an audience of the king, at which he said with 
 hands upraised to heaven : " Sire, to try a clerk, is a viola- 
 tion of God's laws." This time, however, Henry did not 
 give way. " By God's will, we are king of England," he re- 
 plied, " and the kings of England in times past had never 
 any superior but God onlv. Therefore know you well that 
 we will maintain the right of our crown." He saw distinctly 
 that to put the clergy above the laws was to put them above
 
 140 THK WOLVES RICHARD HUN. 
 
 the throne. The priests were beaten, but not disheartened : 
 perseverance is a characteristic feature of every hierarchical 
 order. Not walking by faith, they walk all the more by 
 sight ; and skilful combinations supply the place of the holy 
 aspirations of the Christian. Humble disciples of the gospel 
 were soon to experience this, for the clergy by a few isolated 
 attacks were about to flesh themselves for the great strug- 
 gles of the Reformation. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Wolves Richard Hun A Murder Verdict of the Jury Hun con- 
 demned, and his Character vindicated The Gravesend Passage-boat 
 A Festival disturbed Brown tortured Visit from his Wife A Mar- 
 tyrCharacter of Erasmus 1516 and 1517 Erasmus goes to Basle. 
 
 IT is occasionally necessary to soften down the somewhat 
 exaggerated colours in which contemporary writers describe 
 the Romish clergy ; but there are certain appellations which 
 history is bound to accept. The wolves, for so the priests 
 were called, by attacking the Lords and Commons had at- 
 tempted a work beyond their reach. They turned their 
 wrath on others. There were many shepherds endeavouring 
 to gather together the sheep of the Lord beside the peaceful 
 waters : these must be frightened, and the sheep driven into 
 the howling wilderness. " The wolves " determined to fall 
 upon the Lollards. 
 
 There lived in London an honest tradesman named Rich- 
 ard Hun, one of those witnesses of the truth who, sincere 
 though unenlightened, have been often found in the bosom 
 of Catholicism. It was his practice to retire to his closet 
 and spend a portion of each day in the study of the Bible. 
 At the death of one of his children, the priest required of him 
 an exorbitant fee, which Hun refused to pay, and for which 
 he was summoned before the legate's court. Animated by 
 that public spirit which characterizes the people of England,
 
 HUN IM THE LO. LARDS* TOWER. 141 
 
 he felt indignant that an Englishman should be cited before 
 a foreign tribunal, and laid an information against the priest 
 and his counsel under the act of prcemunire. Such boldness 
 most extraordinary at that time exasperated the clergy 
 beyond all bounds. " If these proud citizens are allowed to 
 have their way," exclaimed the monks, " every layman will 
 dare to resist a priest." 
 
 Exertions were accordingly made to snare the pretended 
 rebel in the trap of heresy ; * he was thrown into the 
 Lollards' tower at St Paul's, and an iron collar was fas- 
 tened round his neck, attached to which was a chain so 
 heavy that neither man nor beast (says Foxe) would have 
 been able to bear it long. When taken before his judges, 
 they could not convict him of heresy, and it was observed 
 with astonishment " that he had his beads in prison with 
 him."-}- They would have set him at liberty, after inflicting 
 on him perhaps some trifling penance but then, what a bad 
 example it would be, and who could stop the reformers, if it 
 was so easy to resist the papacy ? Unable to triumph by 
 justice, certain fanatics resolved to triumph by crime. 
 
 At midnight on the 2d December the day of his exami- 
 nation three men stealthily ascended the stairs of the Lol- 
 lards' tower : the bellringer went first carrying a torch ; a 
 sergeant named Charles Joseph followed, and last came the 
 bishop's chancellor. Having entered the cell, they went up 
 to the bed on which Hun was lying, and finding that he 
 was asleep, the chancellor said : " Lay hands on the thief," 
 Charles Joseph and the bellringer fell upon the prisoner, who, 
 awaking with a start, saw at a glance what this midnight 
 visit meant. He resisted the assassins at first, but was soon 
 overpowered and strangled. Charles Joseph then fixed the 
 dead man's belt round his neck, the bellringer helped to raise 
 his lifeless body, and the chancellor slipped the other end of 
 the belt through a ring fixed in the wall. They then placed 
 his cap on his head, and hastily quitted the cell."J Imme- 
 diately after, the conscience-stricken Charles Joseph got on 
 
 * Foxe, Acts and Mon. 55. p. 8. Folio, 1684, Lond. f Ibid. 
 
 Ibid. p. 13. "And so all we murdered Hun and so Hun was 
 
 hanged." (Evidence of Charles Joseph.)
 
 142 RICHAED HUN'S MURDER VERDICT OF THE JURY. 
 
 horseback and rode from the city; the bellringer left the 
 cathedral and hid himself : the crime dispersed the criminals. 
 The chancellor alone kept his ground, and he was at prayers 
 when the news was brought him that the turnkey had found 
 Hun hanging. " He must have killed himself in despair " 
 said the hypocrite. But every one knew poor Hun's Chris- 
 tian feelings. " It is the priests who have murdered him," 
 was the general cry in London, and an inquest was ordered 
 to be held on his body. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 5th of December, William Barnwell the 
 city coroner, the two sheriffs, and twenty-four jurymen, pro- 
 ceeded to the Lollards' tower. They remarked that the belt 
 was so short that the head could not be got out of it, and 
 that consequently it had never been placed in it voluntarily, 
 and hence the jury concluded that the suspension was an 
 after-thought of some other persons. Moreover they found 
 that the ring was too high for the poor victim to reach it, 
 that the body bore marks of violence and that traces of 
 blood were to be seen in the cell : " Wherefore all we find by 
 God and all our consciences (runs the verdict), that Richard 
 Hun was murdered. Also we acquit the said Richard Hun 
 of his own death."* 
 
 It was but too true, and the criminals themselves confessed 
 it. The miserable Charles Joseph having returned home on 
 the evening of the 6th December, said to his maid-servant : 
 " If you will swear to keep my secret, I will tell you all." 
 " Yes, master," she replied, " if it is neither felony nor trea- 
 son." Joseph took a book, swore the girl on it, and then 
 said to her : " I have killed Richard Hun ! " " master ! 
 how ? he was called a worthy man." " I would lever 
 [rather] than a hundred pounds it were not done," he made 
 answer ; " but what is done cannot be undone." He then 
 rushed out of the house. 
 
 The clergy foresaw what a serious blow this unhappy 
 affair would be to them, and to justify themselves they ex- 
 amined Hun's Bible (it was Wickliffe's version), and having 
 read in the preface that " poor men and idiots [simple folks] 
 
 * For particulars of the Inquest, see Foxe, Acts and Mon. ii. p. 14.
 
 HUN CONDEMNED HIS CHARACTER VINDICATED. 143 
 
 have the truth of the Holy Scriptures more than a thousand 
 prelates and religious men and clerks of the school," and 
 further, that " the pope ought to be called Antichrist," the 
 bishop of London, assisted by the bishops of Durham and 
 Lincoln, declared Hun guilty of heresy, and on the 20th 
 December his dead body was burnt at Smithfield. " Hun's 
 bones have been burnt, and therefore he was a heretic," said 
 the priests ; " he was a heretic, and therefore he committed 
 suicide." 
 
 The triumph of the clergy was of short duration ; for al- 
 most at the same time William Horsey, the bishop's chan- 
 cellor, Charles Joseph, and John Spalding the bellringer, 
 were convicted of the murder. A bill passed the Commons 
 restoring Hun's property to his family and vindicating his 
 character ; the Lords accepted the bill, and the king himself 
 said to the priests : " Restore to these wretched children the 
 " property of their father, whom you so cruelly murdered, to 
 our great and just horror."* "If the clerical theocracy 
 should gain the mastery of the state," was the general re- 
 mark in London, " it would not only be a very great lie, but 
 the most frightful tyranny ! " England has never gone back 
 since that time, and a theocratic rule has always inspired the 
 sound portion of the nation with a just and insurmountable 
 antipathy. Such were the events taking place in England 
 shortly before the Reformation. This was not all. 
 
 The clergy had not been fortunate in Hun's affair, but 
 they were not for that reason unwilling to attempt a new 
 one. 
 
 In the spring of 1517 the year in which Luther posted 
 up his theses a priest, whose manners announced a man 
 swollen with pride, happened to be on board the passage- 
 boat from London to Gravesend with an intelligent and pious 
 Christian of Ashford, by name John Brown. The passen- 
 gers, as they floated down the stream, were amusing them- 
 selves by watching the banks glide away from them, when 
 the priest, turning towards Brown, said to him insolently : 
 " You are too near me, get farther off. Do you know who I 
 am ?" " No, sir," answered Brown. " Well, then, you must 
 * Verdict on the Inquest ; Foxe, p. 12.
 
 144 THE GBAVESEND BOA! JOHN BROWN. 
 
 know that I am a priest." " Indeed, sir ; are you a parson, or 
 vicar, or a lady's chaplain ?" " No ; I am a soul-priest" he 
 haughtily replied ; " I sing mass to save souls." " Do you, 
 sir," rejoined Brown somewhat ironically, " that is well done ; 
 and can you tell me where you find the soul when you be- 
 gin the mass?" " I cannot," said the priest. "And where 
 you leave it when the mass is ended?" " I do not know." 
 " What!" continued Brown with marks of astonishment, 
 " you do not know where you find the soul or where you leave 
 
 it and yet you say that you save it !" " Go thy ways," 
 
 said the priest angrily, " thou art a heretic, and I will be even 
 with thee." Thenceforward the priest and his neighbour 
 conversed no more together. At last they reached Graves- 
 end and the boat anchored. 
 
 As soon as the priest had landed, he hastened to two of , 
 his friends, Walter and William More, and all three mount- 
 ing their horses set off for Canterbury, and denounced Brown 
 to the archbishop. 
 
 In the meantime John Brown had reached home. Three 
 days later, his wife, Elizabeth, who had just left her cham- 
 ber, went to church, dressed all in white, to return thanks to 
 God for delivering her in the perils of childbirth. Her hus- 
 band, assisted by her daughter Alice and the maid-servant, 
 were preparing for their friends the feast usual on such 
 occasions, and they had all of them taken their seats at 
 table, joy beaming on every face, when the street-door was 
 abruptly opened, and Chilton, the constable, a cruel and 
 savage man, accompanied by several of the archbishop's aj>- 
 paritors, seized upon the worthy townsman. All sprang 
 from their seats in alarm ; Elizabeth and Alice uttered the 
 most heartrending cries ; but the primate's officers, without 
 showing any emotion, pulled Brown out of the house, and 
 placed him on horseback, tying his feet under the animal's 
 belly.* It is a serious matter to jest with a priest. The 
 cavalcade rode off quickly, and Brown was thrown into pri- 
 son, and there left forty days. 
 
 At the end of this time, the archbishop of Canterbury 
 and the bishop of Rochester called before them the im- 
 * Foxe, Acts, ii. p. 7. His feet bound under his own horse.
 
 BROWN I CT TO THE TORTURE. 145 
 
 ptident fellow who doubted whether a priest's mass could 
 save souls, and required him to retract this " blasphemy." 
 But Brown, if he did not believe in the mass, believed 
 in the gospel : " Christ was once offered," he said, " to 
 take away the sins of many. It is by this sacrifice we 
 are saved, and not by the repetitions of the priests." At 
 this reply the archbishop made a sign to the executioners, 
 one of whom took off the shoes and stockings of this pious 
 Christian, while the other brought in a pan of burning 
 coals, upon which they set the martyr's feet.* The English 
 laws in truth forbade torture to be inflicted on any subject 
 of the crown, but the clergy thought themselves above the 
 laws. " Confess the efficacity of Ae mass," cried the two 
 bishops to poor Brown. " If I deny my Lord upon earth," 
 he replied, " He will deny me before his Father in heaven." 
 The flesh was burnt off the soles of the feet even to the 
 bones, and still John Brown remained unshaken. The 
 bishops therefore ordered him to be given over to the secu- 
 lar arm that he might be burnt alive. 
 
 On the Saturday preceding the festival of Pentecost, in the 
 year 1517, the martyr was led back to Ashford, where he 
 arrived just as the day was drawing to a close. A number 
 of idle persons were collected in the street, and among them 
 was Brown's maid-servant, who ran off crying to the house, 
 
 and told her mistress : " I have seen him He was bound, 
 
 and they weic taking him to prison." 7 Elizabeth hastened 
 to her husband and found him sitting with his feet in the 
 stocks, his features changed by suffering, and expecting to 
 be burnt alive on the morrow. The poor woman sat down 
 beside him, weeping most bitterly ; while he, being hindered 
 by his chains, could not so much as bend towards her. " I 
 cannot set my feet to the ground," said he, " for bishops have 
 burnt them to the bones ; but they could not burn my tongue 
 
 and prevent my confessing the Lord Elizabeth! 
 
 continue to love him for He is good ; and bring up oui 
 children in his fear." 
 
 * His bare feet were set upon hot burning coals. The Lollards (edit. 
 Tract Soc.), p. 140. 
 
 t A young maid of his house coming by saw her master, she rail 
 home. The Lollard-, p. 50. 
 
 7 o
 
 146 BROWN'S MARTYRDOM. 
 
 On the following morning it was Whitsunday the 
 brntal Chilton and his assistants led Brown to the place of 
 execution, and fastened him to the stake. Elizabeth and 
 Alice, with his other children and his friends, desirous of re- 
 ceiving his last sigh, surrounded the pile, uttering cries of 
 anguish. The fagots were set on fire ; while Brown, calm 
 and collected, and full of confidence in the blood of the 
 Saviour, clasped his hands, and repeated this hymn, which 
 Foxe has preserved : * 
 
 O Lord, I yield me to thy grace, 
 Grant me mercy for my trespass ; 
 Let never the fiend my soul chase. 
 Lord, I will DOW, and thou shalt beat, 
 Let never my soul come in hell-heat. 
 
 The martyr was silent: the flames had consumed their 
 victim. Then redoubled cries of anguish rent the air. His 
 wife and daughter seemed as if they would lose their senses. 
 The bystanders showed them the tenderest compassion, and 
 turned with a movement of indignation towards the execu- 
 tioners. The brutal Chilton perceiving this, cried out: 
 "Come along; let us toss the heretic's children into the 
 flames, lest they should one day spring from their father's 
 ashes."-]- He rushed towards Alice, and was about to lay 
 hold of her, when the maiden shrank back screaming with 
 horror. To the end of her life, she recollected the fearful 
 moment, and to her we are indebted for the particulars. The 
 fury of the monster was checked. Such were the scenes 
 passing in England shortly before the Reformation. 
 
 The priests were not yet satisfied, for the scholars still 
 remained in England : if they could not be burnt, they 
 should at least be banished. They set to work accordingly. 
 Standish, bishop of St Asaph, a sincere man, as it would 
 seem, but fanatical, was inveterate in his hatred of Erasmus, 
 who had irritated him by an idle sarcasm. When speaking 
 of St AsapVs it was very common to abbreviate it into S( 
 
 * Foxe, Acts and Mon. ii. p. 8 (folio, 1684), iv. p. 132 (Lond. 1838). 
 We shall ;'n future refer to the latter edition, as being more accessible. 
 
 t Bade >ast in his children also, for they would spring of his ashes. 
 Ibid.
 
 CHARACTER OF ERASMUS. 147 
 
 As's ; and as Standish was a theologian of no great learning, 
 Erasmus, in his jesting way, would sometimes call him 
 Eplscppus a Sancto Asino. As the bishop could not destroy 
 Colet, the disciple, he flattered himself that he should triumph 
 over the master. 
 
 Erasmus knew Standish's intentions. Should he com- 
 mence in England that struggle with the papacy which 
 Luther was about to begin in Germany ? It was no longer 
 possible to steer a middle course : he must either fight or 
 leave. The Dutchman was faithful to his nature we may 
 even say, to his vocation : he left the country. 
 
 Erasmus was, in his time, the head of the great literary 
 community. By means of his connexions and his corre- 
 spondence, which extended over all Europe, he established 
 between those countries where learning was reviving, an 
 interchange of ideas and manuscripts. The pioneer of an- 
 tiquity, an eminent critic, a witty satirist, the advocate of 
 correct taste, and a restorer of literature, one only glory was 
 wanting : he had not the creative spirit, the heroic soul of a 
 Luther. He calculated with no little skill, could detect the 
 smile on the lips or the knitting of the brows ; but he had 
 not that self-abandonment, that enthusiasm for the truth, 
 that firm confidence in God, without which nothing great 
 can be done in the world, and least of all in the church. 
 " Erasmus had much, but was little," said one of his bio- 
 graphers.* 
 
 In the year 1517, a crisis had arrived : the period of the 
 revival was over, that of the Reformation was beginning. 
 The restoration of letters was succeeded by the regeneration 
 of religion : the days of criticism and neutrah'ty by those of 
 courage and action. Erasmus was then only forty-nine 
 years old ; but he had finished his career. From being first, 
 he must now be second : -the monk of Wittemberg dethroned 
 him. He looked around himself in vain : placed in a new 
 country, he had lost his road. A hero was needed to in- 
 augurate the great movement of modern times : Erasmus 
 was a mere man of letters. 
 
 When attacked by Standish in 1516, the literary king 
 Ad. Muller.
 
 148 ERASMUS GOES TO BASLE. 
 
 determined to quit the court of England, and take refuge in 
 a printing-office. But before laying down his sceptre at the 
 toot of a Saxon monk, he signalized the end of his reign by 
 the most brilliant of his publications. The epoch of 1516-17, 
 memorable for the theses of Luther, was destined to be 
 equally remarkable by a work which was to imprint on the 
 new times their essential character. What distinguishes 
 the Reformation from all anterior revivals is the union of 
 learning with piety, and a faith more profound, more en- 
 lightened, and based on the word of God. The Christian 
 people was then emancipated from the tutelage of the schools 
 and the popes, and its charter of enfranchisement was the 
 Bible. The sixteenth century did more than its predecessors : 
 it went straight to the fountain (the Holy Scriptures), cleared 
 it of weeds and brambles, plumbed its depths, and caused its 
 abundant streams to pour forth on all around. The Refor- 
 mation age studied the Greek Testament, which the clerical 
 age had almost forgotten, and this is its greatest glory. 
 Now the first explorer of this divine source was Erasmus. 
 "When attacked by the hierarchy, the leader of the schools 
 withdrew from the splendid halls of Henry VIII. It seemed 
 to him that the new era which he had announced to the 
 world was rudely interrupted : he could do nothing more by 
 his conversation for the country of the Tudors. But he 
 carried with him those precious leaves, the fruit of his 
 labours a book which would do more than he desired. He 
 hastened to Basle, and took up his quarters in Frobenius's 
 printing-office,* where he not only laboured himself, but 
 made others labour. England will soon receive the seed ol 
 the new life, and the Reformation is about to begin. 
 
 * Frobenio, ut nullius ofiicince plus debeant sacrarum stadia literaruin 
 Erasm. Ep. p. 330.
 
 BOOK XVIII. 
 
 THE REVIVAL OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Four reforming Powers Which reformed England ! Papal Reform ! 
 Episcopal Reform * Royal Reform 1 What is required in a legitimate 
 Reform ? The Share of the Kingly Power Share of the Episcopal Au- 
 thority High and Low Church Political Events The Greek and 
 Latin New Testament Thoughts of Erasmus Enthusiasm and Anger 
 Desire of Erasmus Clamours of the Priests Their attack at Court 
 Astonishment of Erasmus His Labours for this Work Edward Lee ; 
 his Character Lee's Tragedy Conspiracy. 
 
 IT was within the province of four powers in the sixteenth 
 century to effect a reformation of the church : these were the 
 papacy, the episcopate, the monarchy, and Holy Scripture. 
 
 The Reformation in England was essentially the work oi 
 Scripture. 
 
 The only true Reformation is that which emanates from 
 the word of God. The Holy Scriptures, by bearing witness 
 to the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of God, 
 create in man by the Holy Ghost a faith which justifies him. 
 That faith, which produces in him a new life, unites him to 
 Christ, without his requiring a chain of bishops or a Roman 
 mediator, who would separate him from the Saviour instead 
 of drawing him nearer. This Reformation by the word re- 
 stores that spiritual Christianity which the outward and 
 hierarchical religion had destroyed ; and from the regenera- 
 tion of individuals naturally results the regeneration of the 
 church. 
 
 The Reformation of England, perhaps to a greater extent 
 than that of the continent, was effected by the word of God. 
 This statement may appear paradoxical, but it is not the
 
 150 DIFFERENT KINDS OF REFORM. 
 
 less true. Those great individualities we meet with in Ger- 
 many, Switzerland, and France men like Luther, Zwingle, 
 and Calvin do not appear in England ; but Holy Scripture 
 is widely circulated. What brought light into the British 
 isles subsequently to the year 1517, and on a more extended 
 scale after the year 1526, was the word the invisible power 
 of the invisible God. The religion of the Anglo-Saxon race 
 a race called more than any other to circulate the oracles 
 of God throughout the world is particularly distinguished 
 by its biblical character. 
 
 The Reformation of England could not be papal. No re- 
 form can be hoped from that which ought to be not only 
 reformed, but abolished ; and besides, no monarch dethrones 
 himself. We may even affirm that the popedom has always 
 felt a peculiar affection for its conquests in Britain, and that 
 they would have been the last it would have renounced. A 
 serious voice had declared in the middle of the fifteenth 
 century : " A reform is neither in the will nor in the power 
 of the popes."* 
 
 The Reformation of England was not episcopal. Roman 
 nierarchism will never be abolished by Roman bishops. 
 An episcopal assembly may perhaps, as at Constance, de- 
 pose three competing popes, but then it will be to save the 
 papacy. And if the bishops could not abolish the papacy, 
 still less could they reform themselves. The then existing 
 episcopal power, being at enmity with the word of God, and 
 the slave of its own abuses, was incapable of renovating the 
 church. On the contrary, it exerted all its influence to pre- 
 vent such a renovation. 
 
 The Reformation in England was not royal. Samuel, 
 David, and Josiah were able to do something for the raising 
 up of the church, when God again turned his face towards 
 it ; but a king cannot rob his people of their religion, and 
 still less can he give them one. It has often been repeated 
 that " the English Reformation derives its origin from the 
 monarch ;" but the assertion is incorrect. The work of God, 
 here as elsewhere, cannot be put in comparison with the 
 
 * James of Juterbock, prior of the Carthusians : De septem eccleeiae 
 
 etatibi* opusoulum.
 
 HUMAN ELEMENTS. 151 
 
 work of the king ; and if the latter was infinitely surpassed 
 in importance, it was also preceded in time by many years. 
 The monarch was still keeping up a vigorous resistance be- 
 hind his intrenchments, when God had already decided the 
 victory along the whole line of operations. 
 
 Shall we be told that a reform effected by any other prin- 
 ciple than the established authorities, both in church and 
 state, would have been a revolution? But has God, the 
 lawful sovereign of the church, forbidden all revolution in a 
 sinful world ? A revolution is not a revolt. The fall of the 
 first man was a great revolution : the restoration of man by 
 Jesus Christ was a counter-revolution. The corruption 
 occasioned by popery was allied to the fall : the reformation 
 accomplished in the sixteenth century was connected there- 
 fore with the restoration. There will no doubt be other 
 interventions of the Deity, which will be revolutions in the 
 same direction as the Reformation. When God creates a 
 new heaven and a new earth, will not that be one of the 
 most glorious of revolutions? The Reformation by the 
 word alone gives truth, alone gives unity ; but more than 
 that, it alone bears the marks of true legitimacy ; for the 
 church belongs not unto men, even though they be priests. 
 God alone is its lawful sovereign. 
 
 And yet the human elements which we have enumerated 
 were not wholly foreign to the work that was accomplishing 
 in England. Besides the word of God, other principles were 
 ia operation, and although less radical and less primitive, 
 they still retain the sympathy of eminent men of that 
 nation. 
 
 And in the first place, the intervention of the king's au- 
 thority was necessary to a certain point. Since the supre- 
 macy of Rome had been established in England by several 
 usages which had the force of law, the intervention of the 
 temporal power was necessary to break the bonds which it 
 had. previously sanctioned. But it was requisite for the 
 monarchy, while adopting a negative and political action, 
 to leave the positive, doctrinal, and creative action to the 
 word of God. 
 
 Besides the Reformation in the name of the Scriptures^
 
 152 TWO PARTIES IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 there was then in England another in the name of the Icing. 
 The word of God began, the kingly power followed; and 
 ever since, these two forces have sometimes gone together 
 against the authority of the Roman pontiffs sometimes in 
 opposition to each other, like those troops which march side 
 by side in the same army,' against the same enemy, and 
 which have occasionally been seen, even on the field of 
 battle, to turn their swords against each other. 
 
 Finally, the episcopate which had begun by opposing the 
 Reformation, was compelled to accept it in despite of its 
 convictions. The majority of the bishops were opposed to 
 it; but the better portion were found to incline, some to the 
 side of outward reform, of which separation from the papacy 
 was the very essence, and others to the side of internal re- 
 form, whose mainspring was union with Jesus Christ. 
 Lastly, the episcopate took up its ground on its own account, 
 and soon two great parties alone existed in England : the 
 scriptural party and the clerical party. 
 
 These two parties have survived even to our days, and 
 their colours are still distinguishable in the river of the 
 church, like the muddy Arve and the limpid Rhone after 
 their confluence. The royal supremacy, from which many 
 Christians, preferring the paths of independence, have with- 
 drawn since the end of the 16th century, is recognised by 
 both parties in the establishment, with some few exceptions. 
 But whilst the High Church is essentially hierarchical, the 
 Low Church is essentially biblical. In the one, the Church 
 is above and the Word below ; in the other, the Church is 
 below and the Word above. These two principles, evangel- 
 ism and hierarchism, are found in the Christianity of the 
 first centuries, but with a signal difference. Hierarchism 
 then almost entirely effaced evangelism ; in the age of pro- 
 testantism, on the contrary, evangelism continued to exist 
 by the side of hierarchism, and it has remained de jure, if 
 not always de facto, the only legitimate opinion of the church. 
 
 Thus there is in England a complication of influences and 
 contests, which render the work more difficult to describe ; 
 but it is on that very account more worthy the attention of 
 the philosopher and the Christian.
 
 POLITICAL EVENTS. 153 
 
 * 
 
 Great events had just occurred in Europe. Francis I. had 
 crossed the Alps, gained a signal victory at Marignano, and 
 conquered the north of Italy. The affrighted Maximilian 
 knew of none who could save him but Henry VIII. " I will 
 adopt you; you shall be my successor in the empire," he 
 intimated to him in May 1516. " Your army shall invade 
 France ; and then we will march together to Rome, where 
 the sovereign pontiff shall crown you king of the Romans." 
 The king of France, anxious to effect a diversion, had formed 
 a league with Denmark and Scotland, and had made pre- 
 parations for invading England to place on the throne the 
 " white rose," the pretender Pole, heir to the claims of the 
 house of York.* Henry now showed his prydence ; he de- 
 clined Maximilian's offer, and turned his whole attention to 
 the security of his kingdom. But while he refused to bear 
 arms in France and Italy, a war of quite another kind broke 
 out in England. 
 
 The great work of the 16th century was about to begin. 
 A volume fresh from the presses of Basle had just crossed 
 the channel. Being transmitted to London, Oxford, and 
 Cambridge, this book, the fruit of Erasmus's vigils, soon 
 found its way wherever there were friends of learning. It 
 was the New Testament of our Lord Jesus Christ, published 
 for the first time in Greek with a new Latin translation 
 an event more important for the world than would have 
 been the landing of the pretender in England, or the appear- 
 ance of the chief of the Tudors in Italy. This book, in which 
 God has deposited for man's salvation the seeds of life, was 
 about to effect alone, without patrons and without interpre- 
 ters, the most Astonishing revolution in Britain. 
 
 "When Erasmus published this work, at the dawn, so to 
 Bay, of modern times, he did not see all its scope. Had he 
 foreseen it, he would perhaps have recoiled in alarm. He 
 saw indeed that there was a great work to be done, but he 
 believed that all good men would unite to do it with common 
 accord. " A spiritual temple must be raised in desolated 
 Christendom," said he. " The mighty of this world will 
 contribute towards it their marble, their ivory, and their gold; 
 
 * A private combination, &c. Strype's Memorials, i. part ii. p. 16. 
 
 2
 
 154 SENTIMENTS OF ERASMUS. 
 
 e 
 
 I who am poor and humble offer the foundation stone," and 
 he laid down before the world his edition of the Greek Testa- 
 ment. Then glancing disdainfully at the traditions of men, 
 he said : " It is not from human reservoirs, fetid with stag- 
 nant waters, that we should draw the doctrine of salvation; 
 but from the pure and abundant streams that flow from the 
 heart of God." And when some of his suspicious friends 
 spoke to hjm of the difficulties of the times, he replied : " If 
 the ship of the church is to be saved from being swallowed 
 up by the tempest, there is only one anchor that can save it : 
 it is the heavenly word, which, issuing from the bosom of the 
 Father, lives, speaks, and works still in the gospel." * These 
 noble sentiments served as an introduction to those blessed 
 pages which were to reform England. Erasmus like Caia- 
 phas, prophesied without being aware of it. 
 
 The New Testament in Greek and Latin had hardly ap- 
 peared when it was received by all men of upright mind 
 with unprecedented enthusiasm. Never had any book pro- 
 duced such a sensation. It was in every hand : men strug- 
 gled to procure it, read it eagerly, and would even kiss it-J- 
 ibe words it contained enlightened every heart. But a re- 
 action soon took place. Traditional Catholicism uttered a 
 cry from the depths of its noisome pools (to use Erasmus's 
 figure). Franciscans and Dominicans, priests and bishops, 
 not daring to attack the educated and well-born, went among 
 the ignorant populace, and endeavoured by their tales and 
 clamours to stir up susceptible women and credulous men. 
 " Here are horrible heresies," they exclaimed, " here are 
 frightful antichrists ! If this book be tolerated it will be the 
 death of the papacy I" " We must drive this man from the 
 university," said one. " We must turn him out of the 
 church," added another. " The public places re-echoed with 
 their bowlings," said Erasmus.^ The firebrands tossed by 
 their furious hands were raising fires in every quarter; ani 
 
 * In evangelicis litteris, sermo ille ccelestis, quondam e corde Patris 
 ad nos profectus. Erasm. Leoni, Ep. p. 1843. j 
 
 t Opus avidissime rapitur amatur, manibus teritur. Erasm. E|> 
 
 p. 557. 
 
 J Oblatrabant sycophants. Ibii. p. 329 .
 
 ATTACK OP THE PRIESTS. 155 
 
 the flames kindled in a few obscure convents threatened to 
 spread over the whole country. 
 
 This irritation was not without a cause. The book, in- 
 deed, contained nothing but Latin and Greek ; but this first 
 step seemed to augur another the translation of the Bible 
 into the vulgar tongue. Erasmus loudly called for it.* 
 " Perhaps it may be necessary to conceal the secrets of kings," 
 he remarked, " but we must publish the mysteries of Christ. 
 The Holy Scriptures, translated into all languages, should 
 be read not only by the Scotch and Irish, but even by Turks 
 and Saracens. The husbandman should sing them as he 
 holds the handle of his plough, the weaver repeat them as 
 he plies his shuttle, and the wearied traveller, halting on his 
 journey, refresh him under some shady tree by these godly 
 narratives." These words prefigured a golden age after the 
 iron age of popery. A number of Christian families in Bri- 
 tain and on the continent were soon to realize these evan- 
 gelical forebodings, and England after three centuries'was to 
 endeavour to carry them out for the benefit of all the nations 
 on the face of the earth. 
 
 The priests saw the danger, and by a skilful manoeuvre, 
 instead of finding fault with the Greek Testament, attacked 
 the translation and the translator. " He has corrected the 
 Vulgate," they said, " and puts himself in the place of Saint 
 Jerome. He sets aside a work authorized by the consent ot 
 ages and inspired by the Holy Ghost. What audacity!" 
 and then, turning over the pages, they pointed out the most 
 odious passages : " Look here ! this book calls upon men to 
 repent, instead of requiring them, as the Vulgate does, to do 
 penance!" (Matt. iv. 17.) The priests thundered against 
 him from their pulpits :f "This man has committed the 
 unpardonable sin," they asserted , " for he maintains that 
 there is nothing in common between the Holy Ghost and 
 the monks that they are logs rather than men ! " These 
 simple remarks were received with a general laugh, but the 
 priests, in no wise disconcerted, cried out all the louder : 
 
 * Paraclesis ad lectorem pium. 
 
 t Quam stolide debacchati sunt quidan e suggestis ad populous. 
 Erasui. Ep. p. 1193.
 
 156 ATTACK OP THE PRIESTS AT COURT. 
 
 " He 's a heretic, an heresiarch, a forger! he 's a goose* 
 
 what do I say? he's a very antichrist!" 
 
 It was not sufficient for the papal janissaries to make war 
 in the plain, they must carry it to the higher ground. Was 
 not the king a friend of Erasmus? If he should declare 
 himself a patron of the Greek and Latin Testament, what 
 
 an awful calamity! After having agitated the cloisters, 
 
 towns, and universities, they resolved to protest against it 
 boldly, even in Henry's presence. They thought : " If he is 
 won, all is won." It happened one day that a certain theo- 
 logian (whose name is not given) having to preach in his 
 turn before the king, he declaimed violently against the 
 Greek language and its new interpreters. Pace, the king's 
 secretary, was present, and turning his eyes on Henry, ob- 
 served him smiling good humouredly. -|- On leaving the 
 church, every one began to exclaim against the preacher. 
 " Bring the priest to me," said the king ; and then turning 
 to More, he added : " You shall defend the Greek cause 
 against him, and I will listen to the disputation." The lite- 
 rary tribunal was soon formed, but the sovereign's order had 
 taken away all the priest's courage. He Ccime forward trem- 
 bling, fell on his knees, and with clasped hands exclaimed: 
 " I know not what spirit impelled me." " A spirit of mad-" 
 ness," said the king, " and not the spirit of Jesus Christ." J 
 He then added : " Have you ever read Erasmus ? " " No, 
 Sire." " Away with you then, you are a blockhead." " And 
 yet," said the preacher in confusion, " I remember to have 
 read something about Moria" (Erasmus's treatise on Folly.} 
 " A subject, your majesty, that ought to be very familiar 
 to him," wickedly interrupted Pace. The obscurant could 
 say nothing in his justification. " I am not altogether op- 
 posed to the Greek," he added at last, " seeing that it is de- 
 rived from the Hebrew." This was greeted with a general 
 
 * Nos clamitans esse grues (cranes) et bestias. Erasm. Ep. p. 914. 
 
 } Pacseus in regem conjecit oculos Is mox Pacseo suaviter arrisit. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 J Turn rex : ut qui inquit, spiritus iste non erat Christi sed stultitise 
 Ibid. 
 
 Grsecis, inquit, literis non perinde sum infensus, quod originem ha- 
 leant ex lingua hebraica. Ibid. p. 347.
 
 LABOURS OP ERASMUS. 157 
 
 laugh, and the king impatiently ordered the monk to leave 
 the room, and never appear before him again. 
 
 Erasmus was astonished at these discussions. He had 
 imagined the season to be most favourable. u Everything 
 looks peaceful," he had said to himself; "now is the time 
 to launch my Greek Testament into the learned world."* 
 As well might the sun rise upon the earth, and no one see 
 it ! At that very hour God was raising up a monk at Wit- 
 tcmberg who would lift the trumpet to his lips, and proclaim 
 the new day. " Wretch that I am ! " exclaimed the timid 
 scholar, beating his breast, " who could have foreseen this 
 horrible tempest ! " -{- 
 
 Nothing was more important at the dawn of the Reforma- 
 tion than the publication of the Testament of Jesus Christ 
 in the original language. Never had Erasmus worked so 
 carefully. " If I told what sweat it cost me, no one would 
 believe me." J He had collated many Greek MSS. of the 
 New Testament, and was surrounded by all the commen- 
 taries and translations, by the writings of Origen, Cyprian, 
 Ambrose, Basil, Chrysostom, Cyril, Jerome, and Augustine. 
 Hie sum incampo meo ! he exclaimed as he sat'in the midst 
 of his books. He had investigated the texts according to 
 the principles of sacred criticism. When a knowledge of 
 Hebrew was ecessary, he had consulted Capito, and more 
 particularly (Ecolampadius. Nothing icithout Theseus, said 
 he of the latter, making use of a Greek proverb. He had 
 corrected the amphibologies, obscurities, hebraisms, and bar- 
 barisms of the Vulgate; and had caused a list to be printed 
 of the errors in that version. 
 
 " We must restore the pure text of the word of God," he 
 had said ; and when he heard the maledictions of the priests, 
 he had exclaimed : " I call God to witness I thought I was 
 doing a work acceptable to the Lord and necessary to the 
 cause of Christ." || Nor in this was he deceived. 
 
 .* Erant tempera tranquilla. Erasm. Ep. p. 911. 
 
 + Quis enim suspicaturus erat hanc fatalem tempestatem exoriturara 
 in orbe ! Ibid. 
 
 $ Quantis mihi constiterit sndoribus. Ibid. p. 329. 
 
 Collatis multis Graecorum ezemplaribus. Ibid. 
 
 || Deum tester simpliciter ex.stimabam mo rcm facere Deo gratam ao 
 rei cbristians necessarian. Ibid. p. Ml.
 
 158 EDWARD LEE. 
 
 At the head of his adversaries was Edward Lee, succes- 
 sively king's almoner, archdeacon of Colchester, and arch- 
 bishop of York. Lee, at that time but little known, was a 
 man of talent and activity, but also vain and loquacious, 
 and determined to make his way at any cost. Even when a 
 schoolboy, he looked down on all his companions.* As 
 child, youth, man, and in mature years, he was always the 
 same, Erasmus tells us ; -J- that is to say, vain, envious, jeal- 
 ous, boasting, passionate, and revengeful. We must bear in 
 mind, however, that when Erasmus describes the character 
 of his opponents, he is far from being an impartial judge. 
 In the bosom of Roman-catholicism, there have always ex- 
 isted well-meaning, though ill-informed men, who, not know- 
 ing the interior power of the word of God, have thought that 
 if its authority were substituted for' that of the Romish 
 church, the only foundation of truth and of Christian society 
 would be shaken. Yet while we judge Lee less severely 
 than Erasmus does, we cannot close our eyes to his faults. 
 His memory was richly furnished, but his heart was a 
 stranger to divine truth : he was a schoolman and not a 
 believer. He wanted the people to obey the church and not 
 trouble themselves about the Scriptures. He was the Doctor 
 Eck of England, but with more of outward appearance and 
 morality than Luther's adversary. Yet he was by no means 
 a rigid moralist. On one occasion, when preaching at the 
 palace, he introduced ballads into his sermon, one of which 
 began thus : 
 
 " Pass time with good company." 
 And the other : 
 
 " I love unloved." 
 
 We are indebted to Secretary Pace for this characteristic 
 trait.f 
 
 During the sojourn of Erasmus in England, Lee, observ- 
 ing his influence, had sought his friendship, and Erasmus, 
 
 * Solus haberi in pretio volebat. Erasm. Ep. p. 593. 
 f Talis erat puer, talis adolescens, tails juvenis, talis nunc ctiam vir est. 
 Ibid. 594. 
 J State Papers, Henry VIII. etc. i. p 10, pub. 1830.
 
 LEAGUE AGAINST THE NEW TESTAMENT. 159 
 
 with his usual courtesy, had solicited his advice upon his 
 work. But Lee, jealous of his great reputation, only waited 
 for an opportunity to injure it, which he seized upon as soon 
 as it occurred. The New Testament had not been long pub- 
 lished, when Lee turned round abruptly, and from being 
 Erasmus's friend became his implacable adversary. * " If 
 we do not stop this leak," said he when he heard of the New 
 Testament, " it will sink the ship." Nothing terrifies the 
 defenders of human traditions so much as the word of God. 
 
 Lee immediately leagued himself with all those in Eng- 
 land who abhorred the study of Scripture, says Erasmus. 
 Although exceedingly conceited, he showed himself the most 
 amiable of men, in order to accomplish his designs. He in- 
 vited Englishmen to his house, welcomed strangers, and 
 gained many recruits by the excellence of his dinners.-j- 
 While seated at table among his guests, he hinted perfidious 
 charges against Erasmus, and his company left him " loaded 
 with lies." J " In this New Testament," said he, " there 
 
 are three hundred dangerous, frightful passages three 
 
 hundred did I say? there are more than a thousand!" 
 
 Not satisfied with using his tongue, Lee wrote scores of let- 
 ters, and employed several secretaries. Was there any con- 
 vent in the odour of sanctity, he " forwarded to it instantly 
 wine, choice viands, and other presents." To each one he 
 assigned his part, and over all England they were rehearsing 
 what Erasmus calls Lee's tragedy. In this manner they 
 were preparing the catastrophe ; a prison for Erasmus, the 
 fire for the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 When all was arranged, Lee issued his manifesto. Al- 
 though a poor Greek scholar,]) he drew up some Annotations 
 on Erasmus's book, which the latter called " mere abuse and 
 blasphemy ;" but which the members of the league regarded 
 as oracles. They passed them secretly from hand to hand, 
 and these obscure sheets, by many indirect channels, found 
 
 Subito factus est inimicus. Erasm. Ep. p. 746. 
 + Excipicbat advenas, praesertim Anglos, eos coimviis faciebat suoa. 
 Ibic p 593. 
 
 . Abeuntes omni raendaciorum genere dimittebat onustos. Ibid. 
 ' Douce Lcus ordiretur suam tragaediam. Ibid. p. 913. 
 ", Simon, Hist. crit. du N. Test. p. 246.
 
 160 LEE'S MANIFESTO GENERAL OPPOSITION. 
 
 their way into every part of England, and met with numer- 
 ous readers.* There was to be no publication such was 
 the watchword ; Lee was too much afraid. " Why did you 
 not publish your work ?" asked Erasmus, with cutting irony. 
 " Who knows whether the holy father, appointing you the 
 Aristarchus of letters, might not have sent you a birch to 
 keep the whole world in order !"-j- 
 
 The Annotations having triumphed in the convents, the 
 conspiracy took a new flight. In every place of public resort, 
 at fairs and markets, at the dinner-table and in the council- 
 chamber, in shops, and taverns, and houses of ill-fame, in 
 churches and in the universities, in cottages and in palaces, 
 the league blattered against Erasmus and the Greek Testa- 
 ment.:}: Carmelites, Dominicans, and Sophists, invoked 
 heaven and conjured hell. What need was there of Scrip- 
 ture ? Had they not the apostolical succession of the clergy ? 
 No hostile landing in England could, in their eyes, be more 
 fatal than that of the New Testament. The whole nation must 
 rise to repel this impudent invasion. There is, perhaps, no 
 country in Europe, where the Reformation was received by 
 so unexpected a storm. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Effects of the New Testament in the Universities Conversations A 
 Cambridge Fellow Bilney buys the New Testament The First Pas- 
 sageHis Conversion Protestantism, the Fruit of the Gospel The 
 Vale of the Severn William Tyndale Evangelization at Oxford 
 Biluey teaches at Cambridge Fry th Is Conversion possible ? True 
 Consecration The Reformation has begun. 
 
 WHILE this rude blast was rushing over England, and roar- 
 ing in the long galleries of its convents, the still small voice 
 
 * Liber volitat inter manus conjuratorum. Erasm. En. p. 746. 
 f- Tibi tradita virgula totius orbis censuram fuerit maudaturus. Ibid. 
 p. 742. 
 J Utnusquam non blat event in Erasmum, in compotationibus, in foris,
 
 THE NEW TESTAMENT IN THE UNIVERSITIES. 161 
 
 of the Word was making its way into the peaceful homes of 
 praying men and the ancient halls of Oxford and Cambridge. 
 In private chambers, in the lecture-rooms and refectories, 
 students, and even masters of arts, were to be seen reading 
 the Greek and Latin Testament. Animated groups were 
 discussing the principles of the Reformation. When Christ 
 came on earth (said some) He gave the Word, and when He 
 ascended up into heaven He gave the Holy Spirit. These 
 are the two forces which created the church and these are 
 the forces that must regenerate it. No (replied the partisans 
 of Rome), it was the teaching of the apostles at first, and it 
 is the teaching of the priests now. The apostles (rejoined 
 the friends of the Testament of Erasmus) yes, it is true 
 the apostles were during their ministry a living scripture ; 
 but their oral teaching would infallibly have been altered by 
 passing from mouth to mouth. God willed, therefore, that 
 these precious lessons should be preserved to us in their 
 writings, and thus become the ever undefined source of truth 
 and salvation. To set the Scriptures in the foremost place, 
 as your pretended reformers are doing, replied the schoolmen 
 of Oxford and Cambridge, is to propagate heresy ! And 
 what are the reformers doing (asked their apologists) except 
 what Christ did before them ? The sayings of the prophets 
 existed in the time of Jesus only as Scripture, and it was 
 to this written Word that our Lord appealed when he founded 
 his kingdom.* And now in like manner the teaching of the 
 apostles exists only as Scripture, and it is to this written 
 word that we appeal in order to re-establish the kingdom of 
 our Lord in its primitive condition. The night is far spent, 
 the day is at hand ; all is in motion in the lofty halls of our 
 colleges, in the mansions of the rich and noble, and in the 
 lowly dwellings of the poor. If we want to scatter the dark- 
 ness, must we light the shrivelled wick of some old lamp ? 
 Ought we not rather to open the doors and shutters, and 
 
 in conciliabulis, in pharmacopoliis, in curribus,in tonstrinls, in fornicibui. 
 
 Erasm. Ep. p. 746. 
 
 Matth. xxii. 29 ; xxvi. 24, 54 ; Mark, xiv. 49 ; Luke, xviii. 31 ; 
 27, U, 45 ; John v. 39, 4G ; x. 35 ; xvii. 12. &c 
 VOL. V. 8
 
 162 THOMAS BILNEY HIS ANGUISH. 
 
 admit freely into the house the great light which God has 
 placed in the heavens ? 
 
 There was in Trinity Hall, Cambridge, a young doctor, 
 much given to the study of the canon law, of serious turn of 
 mind and bashful disposition, and whose tender conscience 
 strove, although ineffectually, to fulfil the commandments of 
 God. Anxious about his salvation, Thomas Bilney applied 
 to the priests, whom he looked upon as physicians of the 
 soul. Kneeling before his confessor, with humble look and 
 pale face, he told him all his sins, and even those of which 
 he doubted.* The priest prescribed at one time fasting, at 
 another prolonged vigils, and then masses and indulgences 
 which cost him dearly.-}- The poor doctor went through all 
 these practices with great devotion, but found no consolation 
 in them. Being weak and slender, his body wasted away 
 by degrees,:}: his understanding grew weaker, his imagina- 
 tion faded, and his purse became empty. " Alas !" said he 
 with anguish, " my last state is worse than the first." From 
 time to time an idea crossed his mind : " May not the priests 
 be seeking their own interest, and not the salvation of my 
 soul?" But immediately rejecting the rash. doubt, he fell 
 back under the iron hand of the clergy. 
 
 One day Bilney heard his friends talking about a new 
 book : it was the Greek Testament printed with a translation 
 which was highly praised for its elegant latinity.|| Attracted 
 by the beauty of the style rather than by the divinity of the 
 subject,^" he stretched out his hand; but just as he was 
 going to take the volume, fear came upon him and he with- 
 drew it hastily. In fact the confessors strictly prohibited 
 Greek and Hebrew books, " the sources of all heresies ;" and 
 Erasmus's Testament was particularly forbidden. Yet Bil- 
 
 * In ignaros medicos, indoctos confessionum auditores. Th. Bilnaeus 
 Tonstallo Episcopo ; Foxe, iv. p. 633. 
 
 f Indicebant enim mihi jejunia, vigilias, indulgentiarum et missarum 
 emptiones. Ibid. 
 
 J TJt parum mihi virium (alioqui natura imbecilli) reliquum fuerit. Ibid. 
 
 Sua potius quaorebant quam salutem animaj mere languentis. Ibid. 
 
 [[ Cum ab eo latinius redditum accepi. Ibid. 
 
 TI Latinitate potius quam verbo Dei, allectus. Ibid.
 
 HE OPENS THE NEW TESTAMENT. 163 
 
 ney regretted so great a sacrifice ; was it not the Testament 
 of Jesus Christ ? Might not God have placed therein some 
 word which perhaps might heal his soul ? He stepped for- 
 ward, and then again shrank back At last he took cour- 
 age. Urged, said he, by the hand of God, he walked out of 
 the college, slipped into the house where the volume was 
 sold in secret, bought it with fear and trembling, and then 
 hastened back and shut himself up in his room. * 
 
 He opened it his eyes caught these words : This is a 
 faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, tJiat Christ 
 Jesus came into the world to save sinners ; of whom I am 
 chicf.j He laid down the book, and meditated on the as- 
 tonishing declaration. " What ! St Paul the chief of sinners, 
 and yet St Paul is sure of being saved 1" He read the verse 
 again and again. " assertion of St Paul, how sweet art 
 thou to my soul!" he exclaimed.^ This declaration con- 
 tinually haunted him, and in this manner God instructed 
 him in the secret of his heart. He could not tell what had 
 happened to him ; || it seemed as if a refreshing wind were 
 blowing over his soul, or as if a rich treasure had been placed 
 in his hands. The Holy Spirit took what was Christ's, and 
 anrfbunced it to him. " I also am like Paul," exclaimed he with 
 
 emotion, " and more than Paul, the greatest of sinners ! 
 
 But Christ saves sinners. At last I have heard of Jesus." ^j 
 
 His doubts were ended he was saved. Then took place 
 in him a wonderful transformation. An unknown joy per- 
 vaded him ;** his conscience, until then sore with the wounds 
 of sin, was healed ; -J-J- instead of despair he felt an inward 
 peace passing all understanding.^ "Jesus Christ," exclaimed 
 
 he : "yes, Jesus Christ saves !" Such is the character of 
 
 the Reformation : it is Jesus Christ who saves, and not the 
 
 * Emebam providentia (sine dubio) diviua. Foxe, iv. p. 633. 
 
 t 1 Tim. i. 15. 
 
 J O mihi suavissimam Pauli sententiam ! Foxe, ir. p. 633. 
 
 Hac una sententia, Deo intus in corde mco docente. Ibid. 
 
 || Quod tune fieri ignorabam. Ibid. 
 
 ^J Tandem de Jesu audiebam. Ibid. 
 ** Sic exhilaravit pectns meum. Ibid. 
 
 T* Peccatorum conscientia saucium ac pene desperabundum HiM. 
 Nesoio quantum intus tranqoiUttatem sentire. Ibid.
 
 164 BEGINNING OP THE REFORMATION. 
 
 church. " I see it all," said Bilney ; " my vigils, my fasts, 
 my pilgrimages, my purchase of masses and indulgences 
 were destroying instead of saving me.* All these efforts 
 were, as St Augustine says, a hasty running out of the right 
 way." f 
 
 Bilney never grew tired of reading his New Testament, 
 He no longer lent an attentive ear to the teaching of the 
 schoolmen : he heard Jesus at Capernaum, Peter in the 
 temple, Paul on Mars' hill, and felt within himself that 
 Christ possesses the words of eternal life. A witness to 
 Jesus Christ had just been born by the same power which 
 had transformed Paul, Apollos, and Timothy. The Reforma- 
 tion of England was beginning. Bilney was united to the 
 Son of God, not by a remote succession, but by an immediate 
 generation. Leaving to the disciples of the pope the en- 
 tangled chain of their imaginary succession, whose links it 
 is impossible to disengage, he attached himself closely to 
 Christ. The word of the first century gave birth to the six- 
 teenth. Protestantism does not descend from the gospel in 
 the fiftieth generation like the Romish church of the Council 
 of Trent, or in the sixtieth like some modern doctors : it is 
 the direct legitimate son the son of the master. 
 
 God's action was not limited to one spot. The first rays 
 of the sun from on high gilded with their fires at once the 
 gothic colleges of Oxford and the antique schools of Cam- 
 bridge. 
 
 Along the banks of the Severn extends a picturesque 
 country, bounded by the forest of Dean, and sprinkled with 
 villages, steeples, and ancient castles. In the sixteenth cen- 
 tury it was particularly admired by priests and friars, and a 
 familiar oath among -them was: " As sure as God's in 
 Glo'ster!" The papal birds of prey had swooped upon it. 
 For fifty years, from 1484 to 1534, four Italian bishops, 
 placed in succession over the diocese, had surrendered it to 
 the pope, to the monks, and to immorality. Thieves in par- 
 ticular were the objects of the tenderest favours of the hier- 
 archy. John de Giglis, collector of the apostolical chamber. 
 
 Didici omnes meos conatus, etc. Foxc, iv. p. 633. 
 f Quod ait Augustinus, oelerem oursum extra viam. Ibid.
 
 WILLIAM TYNDALE. 165 
 
 had received from the sovereign pontiff authority to pardon 
 murder and theft, on condition that the criminal shared his 
 profits with the pontifical commissioners.* 
 
 In this valley, at the foot of Stinchcomb hill, to the south- 
 west of Gloucester,*there dwelt, during the latter half of the 
 fifteenth century, a family which had taken refuge there 
 during the wars of the Roses, and assumed the name of 
 Hutching. In the reign of Henry VII. the Lancasterian 
 party having the upper hand, they resumed their name of 
 Tyndale, which had been borne of yore by many noble 
 barons.f In 1484, about a year after the birth of Luther, 
 and about the time that Zwingle first saw light in the moun- 
 tains of the Tockenburg, these partisans -of the red rose were 
 blessed with a son, whom they called William. His youth 
 was passed in the fields surrounding his native village of 
 North Nibley, beneath the shadows of Berkeley Castle, or 
 beside the rapid waters of the Severn, and in the midst of 
 friars and pontifical collectors. He was sent very early to 
 Oxford,| where he learnt grammar and philosophy in the 
 school of St Mary Magdalene, adjoining the college of that 
 name. He made rapid progress, particularly in languages, 
 under the first classical scholars in England Grocyn, W. 
 Latimer, and Linacre, and took his degrees. A more ex- 
 cellent master than these doctors the Holy Spirit speaking 
 in Scripture was soon to teach him a science which it is 
 not in the power of man to impart. 
 
 Oxford, where Erasmus had so many friends, was the city 
 in which his New Testament met with the warmest welcome. 
 The young Gloucestershire student, inwardly impelled to- 
 wards the study of sacred literature, read the celebrated book 
 which was then attracting the attention of Christendom. 
 At first he regarded it only as a work of learning, or at most 
 as a manual of piety, whose beauties were calculated to ex- 
 cite religious feelings ; but erelong he found it to be some- 
 thing more. The more he read it, the more was he struck 
 
 Annals of the English Bible, i. p. 12. 
 
 t Bigland's Glo'ster, p. 293. Annals of the English Bible, i. p. 1- 
 
 J From a child. Foxe, Acts and Mon. T. p. 115. 
 
 Proceeding in degrees of the schools. Ibid.
 
 166 EVANGELIZATION AT OXFORD. 
 
 by the truth and energy of the word. This strange book 
 spoke to him of God, of Christ, and of regeneration, with a 
 simplicity and authority which completely subdued him. 
 William had found a master whom he had not sought at 
 Oxford this was God himself. The pages he held in his 
 hand were the divine revelation so long mislaid. Possessing 
 a noble soul, a bold spirit, and indefatigable activity, he did 
 not keep this treasure to himself. He uttered that cry, more 
 suited to a Christian than to Archimedes : gygjjxa, / have 
 found it. It was not long before several of the younger 
 members of the university, attracted by the purity of his life 
 and the charms of his conversation,* gathered round him, 
 and read with him the Greek and Latin gospels of Erasmus.-j- 
 " A certain well-informed young man," wrote Erasmus in a 
 letter wherein he speaks of the publication of his New Tes- 
 tament, " began to lecture with success on Greek literature 
 at Oxford."| He was probably speaking of Tyndale. 
 
 The monks took the alarm. " A barbarian" continues 
 Erasmus, " entered the pulpit and violently abused the Greek 
 language." " These folk," said Tyndale, " wished to ex- 
 tinguish the light which exposed their trickery, and they 
 have been laying their plans these dozen years." This 
 observation was made in 1531, and refers therefore to the 
 proceedings of 1517. Germany and England were beginning 
 the struggle at nearly the same time, and Oxford perhaps 
 before Wittemberg. Tyndale, bearing in mind the injunc- 
 tion : " When they persecute you in one city, flee ye into 
 another," left Oxford and proceeded to Cambridge. It must 
 needs be that souls whom God has brought to his knowledge 
 should meet and enlighten one another : live coals, when 
 separated, go out; when gathered together, they brighten 
 up, so as even to purify silver and gold. The Romish hier- 
 
 * His manners and conversation being correspondent to the Scriptures, 
 t'oxe, Acts and Mon. v. p. 115. 
 
 f Read privily to certain students and fellows, instructing them in tho 
 knowledge and truth of tho Scriptures. Ibid. 
 
 Oxoniae cum juvenis quidam non vulgariter doctus. Erasm. Ep. p. 
 346. 
 
 Which they have been in brewing as I hear this dozen yoars. Tyn- 
 dalo's Kxpositions (Park Soc.), P- 225.
 
 BII-NEY TEACHES AT CAMBRIDGE. 167 
 
 archy, not knowing what they did, were collecting the scat- 
 tered brands of the Reformation. 
 
 Bilney was not inactive at Cambridge. Not long had the 
 " sublime lesson of Jesus Christ" filled him with joy, before 
 he fell on his knees and exclaimed : " Thou who art the 
 truth, give me strength that I may teach it : and convert 
 the ungodly by means of one who has been ungodly himself."* 
 After this prayer his eyes gleamed with new fire ; he had 
 assembled his friends, and opening Erasmus's Testament, 
 had placed his finger on the words that had reached his soul, 
 and these words had touched many. The arrival of Tyndale 
 gave him fresh courage, and the light burnt brighter in 
 Cambridge. 
 
 John Fryth, a young man of eighteen, the son of an inn- 
 keeper of Sevenoaks in Kent, was distinguished among the 
 students of King's College by the promptitude of his under- 
 standing and the integrity of his life. He was as deeply 
 read in the mathematics as Tyndale in the classics and Bilney 
 in canon law. Although of an exact turn of mind, yet his 
 soul was elevated, and he recognised in Holy Scripture a 
 learning of a new kind. " These things are not demonstrated 
 like a proposition of Euclid," he said ; " mere study is suf- 
 ficient to impress the theories of mathematics on our minds ; 
 but this science of God meets with a resistance in man that 
 necessitates the intervention of a divine power. Christianity 
 is a regeneration." The heavenly seed soon grew up in 
 Fryth's heart.f 
 
 These three young scholars set to work with enthusiasm. 
 They declared that neither priestly absolution nor any other 
 religious rite could give remission of sins ; that the assurance 
 of pardon is obtained by faith alone ; and that faith purifies 
 the heart. Then they addressed to all men that saying ot 
 Christ's at which the monks were so offended : Repent and 
 be converted ! 
 
 Ideas so new produced A great clamour. A famous orator 
 
 * Ut impii ad ipstim per me olim impium converterentur. Foxe, 
 Acts, iv. p. 633. 
 
 + Through Tyndale's instructions he first received into his hear, the 
 seed of the Gospel. Ibid. v. p. 4.
 
 168 TRUB ORDINATION. 
 
 undertook one day at Cambridge to show that it was useless 
 to preach conversion to the sinner. " Thou who, for sixty 
 years past," said he, " hast wallowed in thy lusts, like a sow 
 in. her mire,* dost thou think that thou canst in one year 
 take as many steps towards heaven, and that in thine age, 
 as thou hast done towards hell?" Bilney left the church 
 with indignation. " Is that preaching repentance in the 
 name of Jesus?" he asked. " Does not this priest tell us : 
 Christ will not save thee.-}- Alas ! for so many years that 
 this deadly doctrine has been taught in Christendom, not 
 one man has dared open his mouth against it!" Many of 
 ^the Cambridge fellows were scandalized at Bilney*s language : 
 was not the preacher whose teaching he condemned duly 
 ordained by the bishop ? He replied : " What would be the 
 use of being a hundred times consecrated, were it even by a 
 thousand papal bulls, if the inward calling is wanting ? J To 
 no purpose hath the bishop breathed on our heads if we have 
 never felt the breath of the Holy Ghost in our hearts?" 
 Thus, at the very beginning of the Reformation, England, 
 rejecting the Romish superstitions, discerned with extreme 
 nicety what constitutes the essence of consecration to the 
 service of the Lord. 
 
 After pronouncing these noble words, Bilney, who longed 
 for an outpouring of the Holy Ghost, shut himself up in his 
 room, fell on his knees, and called upon God to come to the 
 assistance of his church. Then rising up, he exclaimed, as 
 if animated by a prophetic spirit : " A new time is beginning 
 
 The Christian assembly is about to be renewed Some 
 
 one is coming unto us, I see him, I hear him it is Jesus 
 
 Christ. He is the king, and it is he who will call the 
 
 true ministers commissioned to evangelize his people." 
 
 Tyndale. full of the same hopes as Bilney, left Cambridge 
 in the course of the year 1519. i. v * 
 
 Thus the English Reformation began independently of 
 
 * Even as a beast iii his own dung. Bilnseus Tonstallo Episcopo ; Foxe, 
 Acts, iv. p. 640. 
 
 + He will not be thy Jesus or Saviour. Ibid. 
 
 Without this inward calling it helpeth nothing before God to be a 
 hundred times elect and consecrated. Ibid. p. 638. 
 
 If it bo Christ, him that -cometh unto us. Ibid. p. 637.
 
 ALARM OF THE CLERGY. 169 
 
 those of Luther and Zwingle deriving its origin from God 
 alone. In every province of Christendom there was a simul- 
 taneous action of the divine word. The principle of the 
 Reformation at Oxford, Cambridge, and London was the 
 Greek New Testament, published by Erasmus. England, in 
 course of time, learnt to be proud of this origin of its Refor- 
 mation. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Alarm of the Clergy The Two Days Thomas Man's Preaching True 
 real Presence Persecutions at Coventry Standish preaches at St 
 Paul's His Petition to the King and Queen His Arguments and 
 Defeat Wolsey's Ambition First Overtures Henry and Francis 
 Candidates for the Empire Conference between Francis I. and Sir 
 T. Boleyn The Tiara promised to Wolsey The Cardinal's Intrigues 
 with Charles and Francis. 
 
 THIS revival caused great alarm throughout the Roman 
 hierarchy. Content with the baptism they administered, 
 they feared the baptism of the Holy Ghost perfected by faith 
 in the word of God. Some of the clergy, who were full of 
 zeal, but of zeal without knowledge, prepared for th*e struggle, 
 and the cries raised by the prelates were repeated by all the 
 inferior orders. 
 
 The first blows did^not fall on the members of the univer- 
 sities, but on those humble Christians, the relics of Wick- 
 liffe's ministry, to whom the reform movement 'among the 
 learned had imparted a new life. The awakening of the 
 fourteenth century was about to be succeeded by that of the 
 sixteenth, and the last gleams of the closing day were 
 almost lost in the first rays of that which ^as commencing. 
 The young doctors of Oxford and Cambridge aroused the 
 attention of the alarmed hierarchy, and attracted their eyes 
 to the humble Lollards, who here and there still recalled the 
 days of Wickliffe. 
 
 An artisan named Thomas Man, sometimes called Doctor 
 Man, from his knowledge of Holy Scripture, had been in- 
 
 8* H
 
 170 THOMAS MAN'S PREACHING. 
 
 prisoned for his faith in the priory of Frideswide at Oxford. 
 (1511 A. D.) Tormented by the remembrance of a recanta- 
 tion which had been extorted from him, he had escaped from 
 this monastery and fled into the eastern parts of England, 
 where he had preached the Word, supplying his daily wants 
 by the labour of his hands.* This "champion of God" 
 afterwards drew near the capital, and assisted by his wife, 
 the new Priscilla of this new Aquila, he proclaimed the doc- 
 trine of Christ to the crowd collected around him in some 
 " upper chamber" of London, or in some lonely meadow wa- 
 tered by the Thames, or under the aged oaks of Windsor 
 Forest. He thought with Chrysostom of old, that " all 
 priests are not saints, but all saints are priests." -J- " He that 
 receiveth the word of God," said he, " receiveth God himself; 
 that is the true real presence. The vendors of masses are 
 not the high-priests of this mystery ; \ but the men whom 
 God hath anointed with his Spirit to be kings and priests." 
 From six to seven hundred persons were converted by his 
 preaching. 
 
 The monks, who dared not as yet attack the universities, 
 resolved to fall upon those preachers who made their temple 
 on the banks of the Thames, or in some remote corner of the 
 city. Man was seized, condemned, and burnt alive on the 
 29th March 1519. 
 
 And this was not all. There lived at Coventry a little 
 band of serious Christians four shoemakers, a glover, a 
 hosier, and a widow named Smith who gave their chil- 
 dren a pious education. The Franciscans were annoyed that 
 laymen, and even a woman, should dare meddle with reli- 
 gious instruction. On Ash Wednesday (1519), Simon Mor- 
 ton, the bishop's sumner, apprehended them all, men, women, 
 and children. On the following Friday, t'he parents were 
 taken to the abbey of Mackstock, about six miles from Co- 
 ventry, and the children to the Greyfriars' convent. " Let 
 us see what heresies you have been -taught?" said Friar 
 
 * Work thereby to sustain his poor life. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 209, 
 
 f- Chrysostom, 43 Homily on Matth. 
 
 J He called them pilled knaves. Foie, iv. p. 209. 
 
 Ibid. p. 211.
 
 THE COVENTRY MARTYRS. 171 
 
 Stafford to the intimidated little ones. The poor children 
 confessed they had been taught in English the Lord's prayer, 
 the apostles' creed, and the ten commandments. On hear- 
 ing this, Stafford told them angrily : " I forbid you (unless 
 you wish to be burnt as your parents will be) to have any- 
 thing to do with the Pater, the credo, or the ten command- 
 ments in English" 
 
 Five weeks after this, the men were condemned to be 
 burnt alive ; but the judges had compassion on the widow 
 because of her young family (for she was their only sup- 
 port), and let her go. It was night : Morton offered to see 
 Dame Smith home ; she took his arm, and they threaded 
 the dark and narrow streets of Coventry. "Eh! eh!" said 
 the apparitor on a sudden, "what have we here?" He 
 heard in fact the noise of paper rubbing against something. 
 " What have you got there ? " he continued, dropping her 
 arm, and putting his hand up her sleeve, from which, he 
 drew out a parchment. Approaching a window whence 
 issued the faint rays of a lamp, he examined the mysterious 
 scroll, and found it to contain the Lord's prayer, the apostles' 
 creed, and the ten commandments in English. " Oh, oh ! 
 sirrah!" said he; "come along. As good now as another 
 time!"* Then seizing the poor widow by the arm, he 
 dragged her befoie the bishop. Sentence of death was im- 
 mediately pronounced on her ; and on the 4th of April, Dame 
 Smith, Robert Hatchets, Archer, Hawkins, Thomas Bond, 
 Wrigsham, and Landsdale, were burnt alive at Coventry in 
 the Little Park, for the crime of teaching their children the 
 Lord's prayer, the apostles' creed, and the commandments of 
 God. 
 
 But what availed it to silence these obscure lips, so long 
 as the Testament of Erasmus could speak ? Lee's conspir- 
 acy must be revived. Standish, bishop of St Asaph, was a 
 narrow-minded man, rather fanatical, but probably sincere, 
 of great courage, and not without some degree of piety. 
 This prelate, being determined to preach a crusade against 
 the New Testament, began at London, in St Paul's cathe- 
 dral, before the mayor and corporation. " Away with these 
 * Foie, Aeta, iv. p. 857.
 
 172 STANDISH AT ST PAUL'S. 
 
 -new translations," he said,- " or else the religion of Jesus 
 Christ is threatened with utter ruin."* But Standish was 
 deficient in tact, and instead of confining himself to general 
 statements, like most of his party, he endeavoured to show 
 how far Erasmus had corrupted the gospel, and continued 
 thus in a whining voice : " Must I who for so many years 
 have been a doctor of the Holy Scriptures, and who have 
 always read in my Bible : In principio erat VERBUM must 
 I now be obliged to read : In principio erat SERMO ?" for 
 thus had Erasmus translated the opening words of St John's 
 Gospel. Risum teneatis, whispered one to another, when 
 they heard this puerile charge : " My lord," proceeded the 
 bishop, turning to the mayor, " magistrates of the city, and 
 citizens all, fly to the succour of religion!" Standish con- 
 tinued his pathetic appeals, but his oratory was all in vain ; 
 some stood unmoved, others shrugged their shoulders, and 
 others grew impatient. The citizens of London seemed de- 
 termined to support liberty and the Bible. 
 
 Standish, seeing the failure of his attack in the city, 
 sighed and groaned and prayed, and repeated mass against 
 the so much dreaded book. BuS he also made up his mind 
 to do more. One day, during the rejoicings at court for the 
 betrothal of the Princess Mary, then two years old, with a 
 French prince who was just born, St Asaph, absorbed and 
 absent in the midst of the gay crowd, meditated a bold step. 
 Suddenly he made his way through the crowd, and threw 
 himself at the feet of the king and queen. All were thun- 
 derstruck, and asked one another what the old bishop could 
 mean. " Great king," said he, " your ancestors, who have- 
 reigned over this island, and yours, great queen, who 
 have governed Aragon, were always distinguished by their 
 zeal for the church. Show yourselves worthy of your fore- 
 fathers. Times full of danger are come upon us,-j- a book 
 has just appeared, and been published too by Erasmus ! It 
 is such a book that, if you close not your kingdom against 
 it, it is all over with the religion of Christ among us." 
 
 * Imminere christianse religionis vKvoXir^iav, nisi novae translations 
 omnes subito de medio tollerentur. Erasm. Ep. p. 596. 
 f Adesso tempora longe periulosissima. Eraem. Ep. p. 597.
 
 HIS ARGUMENTS AND DEFEAT. 173 
 
 The bishop ceased, and a dead silence ensued. The de- 
 vout Standish, fearing lest Henry's well-known love ot 
 learning should be an obstacle to his prayer, raised his eyes 
 and his hands toward heaven, and, kneeling in the midst of 
 the courtly assembly, exclaimed in a sorrowful tone : " 
 
 Christ! Son of God! save thy spouse! for no man 
 
 cometh to her help."* 
 
 Having thus spoken, the prelate, whose courage was wor- 
 thy of a better cause, rose up and waited. Every one 
 strove to guess at the king's thoughts. Sir Thomas More 
 was present, and he could not forsake his friend Erasmus. 
 ""What are the heresies this book is likely to engender?" 
 he inquired. After the sublime came the ridiculous. With 
 the forefinger of his right hand, touching successively the 
 fingers of his left,f Standish replied : " First, this book de- 
 stroys the resurrection ; secondly, it annuls the sacrament of 
 marriage ; thirdly, it abolishes the mass." Then, uplifting 
 his thumb and two fingers, he showed them to the assembly 
 with a look of triumph. The bigoted Catherine shuddered 
 as she saw Standish's three fingers, signs of the three here- 
 sies of Erasmus ; and Henry himself, an admirer of Aquinas, 
 was embarrassed. It was a critical moment : the Greek Tes- 
 tament was on the point of being banished from England. 
 " The proof, the proof," exclaimed the friends of literature. 
 " I will give it," rejoined the impetuous Standish, and then 
 once more touching his left thumb: "Firstly," he said,..:... 
 But he brought forward such foolish reasons, that even the 
 women and the unlearned were ashamed of them. The 
 more he endeavoured to justify his assertions, the more con- 
 fused he became : he affirmed among other things that the 
 Epistles of St Paul were written in Ilebrew. " There is not 
 a schoolboy that does not know that Paul's epistles were 
 written in Greek" said a doctor of divinity, kneeling before 
 the king. Henry, blushing for the bishop, turned the con- 
 versation, and Standish, ashamed at having made a Greek 
 write to the Greeks in Hebrew, would have withdrawn uu- 
 
 * Caepit obsccrare Christum dignaretur ipse sure spons;e opitulari. 
 Erasm. Ep. p. 598. 
 t Et rem in digitos porrectos dispartiens. Ibid.
 
 174 WOLSEY'S AMBITION. 
 
 observed. " The beetle must not attack the eagle,"* was 
 whispered In his ear. Thus did the book of God remain in 
 England the standard of a faithful band, who found in its 
 pages the motto, which the church of Rome had usurped : 
 The truth is in me alone. 
 
 A more formidable adversary than Standish aspired to 
 combat the Reformation, not only in England, but in all the 
 "West. One of those ambitious designs, which easily ger- 
 minate in the human heart, developed itself in the soul of 
 thte chief minister of Henry VIII. ; and if this project suc- 
 ceeded, it promised to secure for ever the empire of the pa- 
 pacy on the banks of the Thames, and perhaps in the whole 
 of Christendom. 
 
 Wolsey, as chancellor and legate, governed both in state 
 and in church, and could, without an untruth, utter his fa- 
 mous Ego et rex meus. Having reached so great a height, 
 he desired to soar still higher. The favourite of Henry VIII. 
 almost his master, treated as a brother by the emperor, by 
 the king of France, and by other crowned heads, invested 
 with the title of.Majesty, the peculiar property of sovereigns,f 
 the cardinal, sincere in his faith in the popedom, aspired to 
 fill the throne of the pontiffs, and thus become Deus in terris. 
 He thought, that if God permitted a Luther to appear in the 
 world, it was because he had a Wolsey to oppose to him. 
 
 It would be difficult to fix the precise moment when this 
 immoderate desire entered his mind : it was about the end 
 of 1518 that it began to show'itself. The bishop of Ely, 
 ambassador at the court of Francis I., being in conference 
 with that prince on the 18th of December in that year, said 
 to him mysteriously : " The cardinal has an idea in his 
 
 mind on which he can unbosom himself to nobody 
 
 except it be to your majesty." Francis understood him. 
 
 An event occurred to facilitate the cardinal's plans. If 
 Wolsey desired to be the first priest, Henry desired to be 
 the first king. The imperial crown, vacant by the death of 
 
 * Scarabseus ille qui maximo suo malo aquilam qusesivit. Erasm. Ep. 
 p. 555. 
 
 f Consultissima tua Majestas. Vestra sublimis et longe reverendissi- 
 ma Majestas, etc. Fiddes, Bodleian Papers, p. 178.
 
 HENRY VIII. FRANCIS I. 175 
 
 Maximilian, was sought by two princes: by Charles of 
 Austria, a cold and calculating man, caring little about the 
 pleasures and even the pomp of power, but forming great 
 designs, and knowing how to pursue them with energy ; and 
 by Francis I., a man of less penetrating glance and less in- 
 defatigable activity, but more daring and impetuous. Henry 
 VIII., inferior to both, passionate, capricious, and selfish, 
 thought himself strong enough to contend with such puis- 
 sant competitors, and secretly strove to win " the monarchy 
 of all Christendom."* Wolsey flattered himself that, hidden 
 under the cloak of his master's ambition, he might satisfy 
 his own. If he procured the crown of the Caesars for Henry, 
 he might easily obtain the tiara of the popes for himself; if 
 he failed, the least that could be done to compensate Eng- 
 land for the loss of the empire, would be to give the sover- 
 eignty of the church to her prime minister. 
 
 Henry first sounded the king of France. Sir Thomas 
 Boleyn appeared one day before Francis I. just as the latter 
 was returning from mass. The king, desirous to anticipate 
 a confidence that might be embarrassing, took the ambassa- 
 dor aside to the window and whispered to him : " Some of 
 the electors have offered me the empire ; I hope your master 
 will be favourable to me." Sir Thomas, in confusion, made 
 some vague reply, and the chivalrous king, following up his 
 idea, took the ambassador firmly by one hand, and laying 
 the other on his breast,-}- exclaimed : " By my faith, if I be- 
 come emperor, in three years- 1 shall be in Constantinople, 
 or I shall die on the road!" This was not what Henry 
 wanted ; but dissembling his wishes, he took care to inform 
 Francis that he would support his candidature. Upon hear- 
 ing this Francis raised his hat and exclaimed : " I desire to 
 see the king of England ; I will see him, I tell you, even if 
 I go to London with only one page and one lackey." 
 
 Francis was well aware that if he threatened the king's 
 ambition, he must flatter the minister's, and recollecting the 
 hint given by the bishop of Ely, he said one day to Boleyn : 
 
 * Cotton MSS. Brit. Mas. Calig. D. 7, p. 88. 
 
 t He took me hard by the wrist with one hand, and laid the other 
 upon his breast. Ibid. D. 8, p. 93.
 
 176 THE CARDINAL'S PRACTICES. 
 
 " It seems to me that my brother of England and I could 
 
 do, indeed ought to do something for the cardinal. He 
 
 was prepared by God for the good of Christendom one of 
 
 the greatest men in the church and on the word of a 
 
 king, if he consents, I will do it." A few minutes after he 
 continued : " Write and tell the cardinal, that if he aspires 
 to be the head of the church, and if anything should happen 
 to the reigning pope, I will promise him fourteen cardinals 
 on my part.* Let us only act in concert, your master and 
 me, and I promise you, Master Ambassador, that neither pope 
 nor emperor shall be created in Europe -without our consent/' 
 
 But Henry did not act in concert with the king of France. 
 At Wolsey's instigation he supported three candidates at 
 once : at Paris he was for Francis I. ; at Madrid for Charles 
 V. ; and at Frankfort for himself. The kings of France and 
 England failed, and on the 10th August, Pace, Henry's en- 
 voy at Frankfort, having returned to England, desired to 
 console the king by mentioning the sums of money which 
 Charles had spent. " By the mass!"f exclaimed the king, 
 congratulating himself at not having obtained the crown at 
 so dear a rate. Wolsey proposed to sing a Te Deum in St 
 Paul's, and bonfires were lighted in the city. 
 
 The cardinal's rejoicings were not misplaced. Charles 
 had scarcely ascended the imperial throne, in despite of the 
 king of France, when these two princes swore eternal hatred 
 of each other, and each was anxious to win over Henry VIII. 
 At one time Charles, under the pretence of seeing his uncle 
 and aunt, visited England ; at another, Francis had an in- 
 terview with the king in the neighbourhood of Calais. The 
 cardinal shared in the flattering attentions of the two mon- 
 archs. " It is easy for the king of Spain, who has become 
 the head of the empire, to raise whomsoever he pleases to 
 the supreme pontificate," said the young emperor to him ; 
 and at these words the ambitious cardinal surrendered him- 
 self to Maximilian's successor. But erelong Francis I. flat- 
 tered him in his turn, and Wolsey replied also to his 
 
 * He will assure you full fourteen cardinals for him. Cotton MSS., 
 Calig. D. F. p. 98. 
 f Bi the messe ! State Papers, i. 9.
 
 TYNDALE. 177 
 
 advances. The king of France gave Henry tournaments 
 and banquets of Asiatic luxury ; and AVolsey, whose coun- 
 tenance yet bore the marks of the graceful smile with which 
 he had taken leave of Charles, smiled also on Francis, and 
 sang mass in his honour. He engaged the hand of the 
 Princess Mary to the dauphin of France and to Charles V., 
 leaving the care of unravelling the matter to futurity. 
 Then, proud of his skilful practices, he returned to London 
 full of hope. By walking in falsehood he hoped to attain 
 the tiara : and if it was yet too far above him, there were 
 certain gospellers in England who might serve as a ladder to 
 reach it. Murder might serve as the complement to fraud. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Tyndale Sodbury Hall Sir John aud Lady Walsh Table-Talk The 
 Holy Scriptures The Images The Anchor of Faith A Roman Camp 
 Preaching of Faith and Works Tyndale accused by the Priests 
 They tear up what he has planted Tyndale resolTes to translate the 
 Bible His first Triumph The Priests in the Taverns Tyndale sum- 
 moned before the Chancellor of Worcester Consoled by an aged Doc- 
 tor Attacked by a Schoolman His Secret becomes known He leaves 
 Sodbury Hall. 
 
 WHILST this ambitious prelate was thinking of nothing but 
 his own glory and that of the Roman pontificate, a great 
 desire, but of a very different nature, was springing up in 
 the heart of one of the humble " gospellers " of England.. If 
 Wolsey had his eyes fixed on the throne of the popedom in 
 order to seat himself there, Tyndale thought of raising up 
 the true throne of the church by re-establishing the legiti- 
 mate sovereignty of the word of God. The Greek Testa- 
 ment of Erasmus had been one step ; aud it now became 
 necessary to place before the simple what the king of the 
 schools had given to the learned. This idea, which pursued 
 the young Oxford doctor everywhere, was to be the mighty 
 mainspring of the English Reformation. 
 
 H2
 
 178 SODBUKY HALL. 
 
 On the slope of Sodbury hill there stood a plain but large 
 mansion, commanding an extensive view over the beautiful 
 vale of the Severn, where Tyndale was born. It was inhab- 
 ited by a family of gentle birth : Sir John Walsh had shone 
 in the tournaments of the court, and by this means con- 
 ciliated the favour of his prince. He kept open table ; and 
 gentlemen, deans, abbots, archdeacons, doctors of divinity, 
 and fat rectors, charmed by Sir John's cordial welcome and 
 by his good dinners, were ever at his house. The former 
 brother-at-arms of Henry VIII. felt an interest in the ques- 
 tions then discussing throughout Christendom. Lady Walsh, 
 herself a sensible and generous woman, lost not a word of 
 the animated conversation of her guests, and discreetly tried 
 to incline the balance to the side of truth.* 
 
 Tyndale, after leaving Oxford and Cambridge, had returned 
 to the home of his fathers. Sir John had requested him to 
 educate his children, and he had accepted. William was 
 then in the prime of life (he was about thirty-six), well in- 
 structed in Scripture, and full of desire to show forth the 
 light which God had given him. Opportunities were not 
 wanting. Seated at table with all the doctors welcomed by 
 Sir John,-J- Tyndale entered into conversation with them. 
 They talked of the learned men of the day of Erasmus 
 much, and sometimes of Luther, who was beginning to 
 astonish England. ^ They discussed several questions touch- 
 ing the Holy Scriptures, and sundry points of theology. 
 Tyndale expressed his convictions with admirable clearness, 
 supported them with great learning, and kept his ground 
 against all with unbending courage. These animated con- 
 versations in the vale of the Severn are one of the essential 
 features of the picture presented by the Reformation in this 
 country. The historians of antiquity invented the speeches 
 whiok they have put into the mouths of their heroes. In 
 our times history, without inventing, should make us ac- 
 quainted with the sentiments of the persons of whom it 
 
 * Lady Walsh, a stout and wise woman. Foxc, Acts, v. p. 115. 
 f Who were together with Master Tyndale sitting at the same table. 
 Ibid. 
 J Talk of learned men, as of Luther and Erasmus, &c. Ibid.
 
 * TABLE-TALK AT BODBURY. 179 
 
 treats. It is sufficient to read Tyndale's works to form 
 some idea of these conversations. It is from his writings 
 that the following discussion has been drawn. 
 
 In the dining-room of the old hall a varied group was 
 assembled round the hospitable table. There were Sir John 
 and Lady Walsh, a few gentlemen of the neighbourhood, 
 with several abbots, deans, monks, and doctors, in their re- 
 spective costumes. Tyndale occupied the humblest place, 
 and generally kept Erasmus's New Testament within reach 
 in order to prove what he advanced.* Numerous domestics 
 were moving about engaged in waiting on the guests ; and 
 at length the conversation, after wandering a little, took a 
 more precise direction. The priests grew impatient when 
 they saw the terrible volume appear. " Your Scriptures 
 only serve to make heretics," they exclaimed. "On the con- 
 trary," replied Tyndale, " the source of all heresies is pride; 
 now the word of God strips man of everything and leaves him 
 as bare as Job."-}- " The word of God I why even we don't 
 understand your word, how can the vulgar understand it?" 
 " You do not understand it," rejoined Tyndale, " because you 
 look into it only for foolish questions, as you would into our 
 Lady's 'Matins or Merlin's Prophecies.^ Now the Scriptures 
 are a clue which we must follow, without turning aside, un- 
 til we arrive at Christ ; for Christ is the end." " And I 
 tell you," shouted out a priest, " that the Scriptures are a 
 Daedalian labyrinth, rather than Ariadne's clue a conjur- 
 ing book wherein everybody finds what he wants." "Alas!" 
 replied Tyndale ; " you read them without Jesus Christ ; 
 that's why they are an obscure book to you. What do I 
 say ? a den of thorns where you only escape from the briers 
 to be caught by the brambles." || "No!" exclaimed another 
 clerk, heedless of contradicting his colleague, " nothing is 
 
 " When they at any time did vary from Tyndale in opinions and judg- 
 ment, he would show them in the book. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 115. 
 
 t Tyndale, Expositions (Park. Soc.) p. 140. 
 
 J Ibid. p. 141. 
 
 So along by the Scripture as by a line until thou come at Christ. 
 Tynd. Works, i. 3T>4 (ed. Russell). 
 
 H A grave of briers ; if thou loose thyself in one place tb/xi art caught 
 I- other. Tyndale, Expositions, p. 5.
 
 180 THE ANCHOR OF FAITH. * 
 
 obscure to us ; it is we who give the Scriptures, and we who 
 explain them to you." " You would lose both your time and 
 your trouble," said Tyndale ; " do you know who taught the 
 eagles to find their prey?* Well, that same God teaches 
 his hungry children to find their Father in his word. Far 
 from having given us the Scriptures, it is you who have 
 hidden them from us ; it is you who burn those who teach 
 them, and if you could, you would burn the Scriptures them- 
 selves." 
 
 Tyndale was not satisfied with merely laying down the 
 great principles of faith: he always sought after what he 
 calls " the sweet marrow within ;" but to the divine unction 
 he added no little humour, and unmercifully ridiculed the 
 superstitions of his adversaries. " You set candles before 
 images," he said to them ; " and since you give them light, 
 why don't you give them food ? Why don't you make their 
 bellies hollow, and put victuals and drink inside ?{ To serve 
 God by such mummeries is treating him like a spoilt child, 
 whom you pacify with a toy or with a horse made of a 
 stick." J 
 
 But the learned Christian soon returned to more serious 
 thoughts ; and when his adversaries extolled the papacy as 
 the power that would save the church in the tempest, he 
 replied : " Let us only take on board the anchor of faith, 
 after having dipped it in the blood of Christ, and when the 
 storm bursts upon us, let us boldly cast the anchor into the 
 sea ; then you may be sure the ship will remain safe on the 
 great waters." And, in fine, if his opponents rejected any 
 doctrine of the truth, Tyndale (says the chronicler) opening 
 his Testament would set his finger on the verse which refuted 
 the Romish error, and exclaim : " Look and read." |[ 
 
 The beginnings of the English Reformation are not to be 
 found, as we have seen, in a material ecclesiasticism, which 
 
 * Tyndale, Answer to More (Park. Soc.), p. 49. 
 
 f Make a hollow belly in the image. Ibid. p. 81. 
 
 % Make him a horse of a stick. Tyndale's Works (ed. Russell), ii. 475. 
 
 Ibid. Expositions (Park. Soc.), p. 15. 
 
 t| And lay plainly before them the open and manifest places of the 
 Scriptures, to confute their errors and confirm his sayings. JFoxe, Acts, 
 v. p. 115.
 
 ORIGIN OP THE REFORMATION. 13 J 
 
 has been decorated with the name of English Catholicism: 
 they arc essentially spiritual, The Divine Word, the creator 
 of the new life in the individual, is also the founder and re- 
 former of the church. The reformed churches, and particu- 
 larly the reformed churches of Great Britain, belong to 
 evangelism. 
 
 The contemplation of God's works refreshed Tyndale after 
 the discussions he had to maintain at his patron's table. He 
 would often ramble to the top of Sodbury hill, and there 
 repose amidst the ruins of an ancient Roman camp which 
 crowned the summit. It was here that Queen Margaret of 
 Anjou halted ; and here too rested Edward IV., who pursued 
 her, before the fatal battle of Tewkeshury, which caused this 
 princess to fall into the hands of the White Rose. Amidst 
 these ruins, monuments of the Roman invasion and of the 
 civil dissensions of England, Tyndale meditated upon other 
 battles, which were to restore liberty and truth to Christen- 
 dom. Then rousing himself he would descend the hill, and 
 courageously resume his task. 
 
 Behind the mansion stood a little church, overshadowed 
 by two large yew trees, and dedicated to St Adeline. On 
 Sundays, Tyndale used to preach there, Sir John and Lady 
 Walsh, with the eldest of the children, occupying the mano- 
 rial pew. This humble sanctuary was filled by their house- 
 hold and tenantry, listening attentively to the words of their 
 teacher, which fell from his lips like the waters of Shiloah 
 that go softl'i. Tyndale was very lively in conversation ; but 
 he explained the Scriptures with so much unction, says the 
 chronicler, " that his hearers thought they heard St John 
 himself." If he resembled John in the mildness of his lan- 
 guage, he resembled Paul in the strength of his doctrine. 
 " According to the pope," he said, " we must first he good 
 after his doctrine, and compel God to be good again for our 
 goodnesi Nay, verily, God's goodness is the root of all 
 goodness. Antichrist turncth the tree of salvation topsy- 
 turvy:* he planteth the branches, and setteth the roots 
 upwards. We must put it straight As the husband 
 
 * Antichrist turneth the roots of the trees upward. Tyndale, Doc 
 trinal Treatises (Park. Soc.), p. 295.
 
 182 TYNDALE THWARTED BY THE PRIESTS. 
 
 marrieth the wife, before he can have any lawful children by 
 her; even so faith justifieth.us to make us fruitful in good 
 works.* But neither the one nor the other should remain 
 barren. Faith is the holy candle wherewith we must bless 
 ourselves at the last hour ; without it, you will go astray in 
 the valley of the shadow of death, though you had a thousand 
 tapers lighted around your bed." -f- 
 
 The priests, irritated at such observations, determined to ruin 
 Tyndale, and some of them invited Sir John and his lady to an 
 entertainment, at which he was not present. During dinner, 
 they so abused the young doctor and his New Testament, 
 that his patrons retired greatly annoyed that their tutor 
 should have made so many enemies. They told him all they 
 had heard, and Tyndale successfully refuted his adversaries' 
 arguments. "What!" exclaimed Lady Walsh, "there are 
 some of these doctors worth one hundred, some two hundred, 
 
 and some three hundred pounds,^ and were it reason, 
 
 think you, Master William, that we should believe you be- 
 fore them ?" Tyndale, opening the New Testament, replied 
 " No ! it is not me you should believe. That is what the 
 priests have told you ; but look here, St Peter, St Paul, and 
 the Lord himself say quite the contrary." The word of 
 God was there, positive and supreme : the sword of the spirit 
 cut the difficulty. 
 
 Before long the manor-house and St Adeline's church be- 
 came too narrow for Tyndale's zeal. He preached every 
 Sunday, sometimes in a village, sometimes in a town. The 
 inhabitants of Bristol assembled to hear him in a large 
 meadow, called St Austin's Green.|| But no sooner had he 
 preached in any place than the priests hastened thither, tore 
 up what he had planted,^} called him a heretic, and threatened 
 
 * Tyndale, Parable of the Wicked Mammon. Doctrinal Treatises 
 (Park. Soc.), p. 126. 
 
 t Though thou hadst a thousand holy candles about thee. Ibid. p. 48. 
 
 J Well, there was such a doctor who may dispend a hundred pounds. 
 Foxe, Acts, v. p. 115. 
 
 Answering by the Scriptures maintained the truth. Ibid. 
 
 [| Ibid. p. 117. 
 
 fl Whatsoever truth is taught them, these enemies of all truth quench 
 It again. Tynd. Doe'r. Tr. p. "94.
 
 HE RESOLVES TO TRANSLATE THE BIBLE. 183 
 
 to expel from the church every one who dared listen to him. 
 When Tyndale returned he found the field laid waste by -the 
 enemy ; and looking sadly upon it, as the husbandman who 
 sees his corn beaten down by the hail, and his rich furrows 
 turned into a barren waste, he exclaimed : " What is to be 
 done ? While I am sowing in one place, the enemy ravages 
 the field I have just left. I cannot be everywhere. Oh 1 if 
 Christians possessed the Holy Scriptures in their own tongue, 
 they could of themselves withstand these sophists. Without 
 the Bible it is impossible to establish the laity in the truth."* 
 
 Then a great idea sprang up in Tyndale's heart : " It was 
 in the language of Israel," said he, " that the Psalms were 
 sung in the temple of Jehovah ; and shall not the gospel 
 
 speak the language of England among us? Ought the 
 
 church to have less light at noonday than at the dawn? 
 
 Christians must read the New Testament in their mother- 
 tongue." Tyndale believed that this idea proceeded from 
 God. The new sun would lead to the discovery of a new 
 world, and the infallible rule would make ah 1 human diversi- 
 ties give way to a divine unity. " One holdeth this doctor, 
 another that," said Tyndale ; " one followeth Duns Scotus, 
 another St Thomas, another Bonaventure, Alexander Hales, 
 Raymond of Penaford, Lyra, Gorram, Hugh de Sancto 
 
 Victgre, and so many others besides Now, each of these 
 
 authors contradicts the other. How then can we distinguish 
 
 him who says right from him who says wrong? How? 
 
 Verily, by God's word."f Tyndale hesitated no longer 
 
 While Wolsey sought to win the papal tiara, the 
 
 humble tutor of Sodbury undertook to place the torch of 
 heaven in the midst of his fellow-countrymen. The transla- 
 tion of the Bible shall be the work of his life. 
 
 The first triumph of the word was a revolution in the 
 manor-house. In proportion as Sir John and Lady Walsh 
 acquired a taste ftTr the gospel, they became disgusted with 
 the priests. The clergy were not so often invited to Sod- 
 
 * Impossible to establish the lay people in any truth, except tho Scrip- 
 tare were plainly laid before their eyes in their mother-tongue. Tynd. 
 Doctr. Tr. p. 394. 
 
 + Ibid. p. 140. 
 
 I
 
 184 THE PRIESTS IN THE ALEHOUSES. 
 
 bury, nor did they meet with the same welcome.* They 
 soon discontinued their visits, and thought of nothing but 
 how they could drive Tyndale from the mansion and from 
 the diocese. 
 
 Unwilling to compromise themselves in this warfare, they 
 sent forward some of those light troops which the church has 
 always at her disposal. Mendicant friars and poor curates, 
 who could hardly understand their missal, and the most 
 learned of whom made Albertus de secretis mulierum their 
 habitual study, fell upon Tyndale like a pack of hungry 
 hounds. They trooped to the alehouses,-j- and calling for a 
 jug of beer, took their seats, one at one table, another at 
 another. They invited the peasantry to drink with them, 
 and entering into conversation with them, poured forth a 
 thousand curses upon the daring reformer: " He's a hypo- 
 crite," said one ; "he's a heretic," said another. The most 
 skilful among them would mount upon a stool, and turning 
 the tavern into a temple, deliver, for the first time in his life, 
 an extemporaneous discourse. They reported words that 
 Tyndale had never uttered, and actions that he had never 
 committed. \ Rushing upon the poor tutor (he himself in- 
 forms us) " like unclean swine that follow their carnal lusts," 
 they tore his good name to very tatters, and shared the spoil 
 among them ; while the audience, excited by their calum- 
 nies and heated by the beer, departed overflowing with rage 
 and hatred against the heretic of Sodbury. 
 
 After the monks came the dignitaries. The deans and 
 abbots, Sir John's former guests, accused Tyndale to the 
 chancellor of the diocese, || and the storm Avhich had begun 
 in the tavern burst forth in the episcopal palace. 
 
 The titular bishop of "Worcester (an appanage of the Italian 
 prelates) was Giulio de' Medici, a learned man, great politi- 
 cian, and crafty priest, who already governed the popedom 
 
 * Neither had they the cheer and countenance when they came, as before 
 they had. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 116. 
 
 f C ome together to the alehouse, which is their preaching place. Tynd 
 Doctr. Tr. p. 394. 
 
 They add too of their own heads what I never spake. Ibid. p. 395. 
 
 Ibid. Expositions, p. 10. 
 
 || Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395.
 
 TYNDALE CITED BEFORE THE CHANCELLOR. 185 
 
 without being pope.* "Wolsey, who administered the dio- 
 cese for his absent colleague, had appointed Thomas Parker 
 chancellor, a man devoted to the Roman church. It was 
 to him the churchmen made their complaint. A judicial in- 
 quiry had its difficulties ; the king's companion-at-arms was 
 the patron of the pretended heretic, and Sir Anthony Poyntz, 
 Lady Walsh's brother, was sheriff of the county. The chan- 
 cellor was therefore content to convoke a general conference 
 of the clergy. Tyndale obeyed the summons, but foreseeing 
 what awaited him, he cried heartily to God, as he pursued his 
 way up the banks of the Severn, " to give him strength to 
 stand fast in the truth of his word."-j- 
 
 When they were assembled, the abbots and deans, and 
 other ecclesiastics of the diocese, with haughty heads and 
 threatening, looks, crowded round the humble but unbending 
 Tyndale. When his turn arrived, he stood forward, and the 
 chancellor administered him a severe reprimand, to which he 
 made a calm reply. This so exasperated the chancellor, 
 that, giving way to his passion, he treated Tyndale as if he 
 had been a dog.J " Where are your witnesses'?" demanded 
 the latter. " Let them come forward, and I will answer 
 them." Not one of them dared support the charge they 
 looked another way. The chancellor waited, one witness at 
 least he must have, but he could not get that. Annoyed 
 at this desertion of the priests, the representative of the 
 Medici became more equitable, and let the accusation drop. 
 Tyndale quietly returned to Sodbury, blessing God who had 
 saved him from the cruel hands of his adversaries, || and en- 
 tertaining nothing but the tenderest charity towards them. 
 " Take away my goods," he said to them one day, " take 
 away my good name ! yet so long as Christ dwelleth in my 
 
 * Governava il papato e havia piu zente a la sua audienzia che il papa. 
 (He governed the popedom, and had more people at his audiences than 
 the pope.) Relazione di Marco Foscari, 1526. 
 
 t Foxe, Acts, v. p. 116. 
 
 * He threatened me grievously and reviled me, and rated me as though 
 I had been a dog. Tynd. Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 
 
 And laid to my charge whereof there would be none accuser brought 
 forth. Ibid. 
 
 || Escaping oat of their hands. Faxe, Acts, T. p. 116. 
 VOL. Y. 9
 
 186 AN OLD DOCTOR CONSOLES HIM. 
 
 heart, so long shall I love you not a whit the less."* Here in- 
 deed is the St John to whom Tyndale has been compared. 
 
 In this violent warfare, however, he could not fail to re- 
 ceive some heavy blows ; and where could he find consola- 
 tion ? Fryth and Bilney were far from him. Tyndale re- 
 collected an aged doctor who lived near Sodbury, and who 
 had shown him great affection. He went to see him, ami 
 opened his heart to him.-{- The old man looked at him for a 
 while as if he hesitated to disclose some great mystery. 
 " Do you not know," said he, lowering his voice, " that the 
 pope is very Antichrist, whom the Scripture speaketh of? 
 
 But beware what you say That knowledge may cost 
 
 you your life."| This doctrine of Antichrist, which Luther 
 was at that moment enunciating so boldly, struck Tyndale. 
 Strengthened by it, as was the Saxon reformer, he felt fresh 
 energy in his heart, and the aged doctor was to him what 
 the aged friar had been to Luther. 
 
 When the priests saw that their plot had failed, they com- 
 missioned a celebrated divine to undertake his conversion. 
 The reformer replied with his Greek Testament to the 
 schoolman's arguments. The theologian was speechless : at 
 last he exclaimed ! " Well then ! it were better to be without 
 God's laws than the 'pope's." Tyndale, who did not expect 
 so plain and blasphemous a confession, made answer : " And 
 I defy the pope and all his laws !" and then, as if unable to 
 keep his secret, he added : " If God spares my life, I will 
 take care that a ploughboy shall know more of the Scriptures 
 than you do." || 
 
 All his thoughts were now directed to the means of carry- 
 ing out his plans ; and, desirous of avoiding conversations 
 that might compromise them, he thenceforth passed the 
 greater portion of his time in the library, ^j He prayed, lie 
 
 " Tynd. Doctr. Tr. p. 298. 
 
 t For to him he durst be bold to disclose his heart. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 
 117. -t Ibid. Ibid. 
 
 || Cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture 
 than he did. Ibid. 
 
 U This part of the house was standing in 1839, but has since been pulled 
 down. Anderson, Bible Annals, i. p. 37. We cannot but unite in the 
 wish expressed in that volume, that the remainder of the building, now 
 tenanted by a fermer, may be carefully preserved.
 
 HIS SECRET BECOMES KNOWN. 187 
 
 read, he began his translation of the Bible, and in all proba- 
 bility communicated portions of it to Sir John and Lady 
 Walsh. 
 
 All his precautions were useless: the scholastic divine 
 had betrayed him, and the priests had sworn to stop him in 
 his translation of the Bible. One day he fell in with a troop 
 of monks and curates, who abused him in the grossest maii- 
 ' ner. " It's the favour of the gentry of the county that 
 makes you so proud," said they ; " but notwithstanding 
 your patrons, there will be a talk about you before long, and 
 
 in a pretty fashion too! You shall not always live in a 
 
 manor-house !" " Banish me to the obscurest corner of 
 England," replied Tyndale ; " provided you will permit me 
 to teach children and preach the gospel, and give me ten 
 
 pounds a-year for my support* I shall be satisfied!" 
 
 The priests left him, but with the intention of preparing him 
 a very different fate. 
 
 Tyndale indulged in his pleasant dreams no longer. He 
 saw that he was on the point of being arrested, condemned, 
 and interrupted in his great work. He must seek a retreat 
 where he can discharge in peace the task God has allotted 
 him. " You cannot save me from the hands of the priests," 
 said lie to Sir John, " and God knows to what troubles you 
 would expose yourself by keeping me in your family. Per- 
 mit me to leave you." Having said this, he gathered up 
 his papers, took his Testament, pressed the nands of his 
 benefactors, kissed the children, and then descending the hill, 
 bade farewell to the smiling banks of the Severn, and de- 
 parted alone alone with his faith. What shall he do ? 
 What will become of him ? Where shall he go ? He went 
 forth like Abraham, one thing alone engrossing his mind : 
 the Scriptures shall be translated into the vulgar tongue, 
 and he will deposit the oracles of God in the midst of his 
 countrymen. 
 
 * Binding him to no more but to teach children and to preach. .F<0 
 Acts, v. p. 1 17
 
 188 LUTHER'S WORKS IN ENGLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Luther's Works in England Consultation of the Bishops The Bull ol , 
 Leo X. published in England Luther's Books burnt Letter of Henry 
 VIII. He undertakes to write against Luther Cry of Alarm Tra- 
 dition and Sacramental ism Prudence of Sir T. More The Book 
 presented to the Pope Defender of the Faith Exultation of the 
 King. 
 
 WHILST a plain minister was commencing the Reformation 
 in a tranquil valley in the west of England, powerful rein- 
 forcements were landing on the shores of Kent. The writ- 
 ings and actions of Luther excited a lively sensation in 
 Great Britain. His appearance before the diet of Worms 
 was a common subject of conversation. Ships from the 
 harbours of the Low Countries brought his books to Lon- 
 don,* and the German printers had made answer to the 
 nuncio Aleander, who was prohibiting the Lutheran works 
 m the empire : " Very well ! we shall send them to Eng- 
 land ! " One might almost say that England was destined 
 to be the asylum of truth. And in fact, the Theses of 1517, 
 the Explanation of the Lord's Prayer, the books against 
 Emser, against the papacy of Rome, against the bull of Anti- 
 christ, the Epistle to the Galatians, the Appeal to the Ger- 
 man nobility, and above all, the Babylonish Captivity of the 
 Church all crossed the sea, were translated, and, circulated 
 throughout the kingdom. -j- The German and English na- 
 tions, having a common origin and being sufficiently alike 
 at that time in character and civilisation, the works intended 
 for one might be read by the other with advantage. The 
 monk in his cell, the country gentleman in his hall, the 
 doctor in his college, the tradesman in his shop, and even 
 the bishop in his palace, studied these extraordinary writings. 
 
 * Burnet, Hist, of the Reformation, (Lond. 1841, 8vo.) i. p. 21. 
 + Libros Lutheranos quorum magnus jam numerus pervenerat ill 
 manus Anglorum. Polyd. Virg. Angl. Hist. (Basil, 1570, fol.) p. 664.
 
 CONSULTATION OF THE BISHOPS. 189 
 
 The laity in particular, who had been prepared by Wickliffe 
 and disgusted by the avarice and disorderly lives of the 
 priests, read with enthusiasm the eloquent pages of the 
 Saxon monk. They strengthened all hearts. 
 
 The papacy was not inactive in presence of all these 
 efforts. The times of Gregory VII. and of Innocent III., it is 
 true, were past; and weakness and irresolution had suc- 
 ceeded to the former energy and activity of the Roman pon- 
 tificate. The spiritual power had resigned the dominion ol 
 Europe to the secular powers, and it was doubtful whether 
 faith in the papacy could be found in the papacy itself. Yc-t 
 a German (Dr Eck) by the most indefatigable exertions had 
 extorted a bull from the profane Leo X.,* and this bull had 
 just reached England. The pope himself sent it to Henry, 
 calling upon him to extirpate the Lutheran heresy. 7 The 
 king handed it to Wolsey, and the latter transmitted it to 
 the bishops, who, after reading the heretic's books, met to- 
 gether to discuss the matter : There was more Romish faith 
 in London than in the Vatican. "This false friar," ex- 
 claimed Wolsey, " attacks submission to the clergy that 
 fountain of all virtues." The humanist prelates were the 
 most annoyed ; the road they had taken ended in an abyss, 
 and they shrank back in alarm. Tonstall, the friend ot 
 Erasmus, afterwards bishop of London, and who had just 
 returned from his embassy to Germany where Luther had 
 been painted to him in the darkest colours, was particularly 
 
 violent : " This monk is a Proteus I mean an alheist. 
 
 If you-allow the heresies to grow up which he is scattering 
 with both hands, they will choke the faith and the church 
 will perish. || Had we not enough of the Wickliffites ? here 
 
 are new legions of the same kind! To-day Luther calls 
 
 for the abolition of the mass; to-morrow he will ask for the 
 abolition of Jesus Christ. ^[ He rejects everything, and puts 
 
 * See above, Book VI. chap. iv. 
 
 f Ab hoc regno extirpandum et abolendum. Cardinal. Ebor. COBI- 
 missio. Strype, M. I. v. p. 22. 
 Habitoque super hac re diligent! tractatu. Ibid. 
 
 Cum illo f'rotheo imo Atheo. Erasm. Ep. p. 1158. 
 
 || Totarruet Ecclesia. Ibid. p. 1159. 
 
 ^1 Nisi de abolendo Christo scribere destinavit. Ibid. p. 1160.
 
 190 PUBLICATION OF TliK PAPAL BULL. 
 
 nothing in its place. What ! if barbarians plunder our fron- 
 tiers, we punish them and shall we bear with heretics 
 
 who plunder our altars? No! by the mortal agony that 
 
 Christ endured, I entreat you What am I saying'? the 
 
 whole church conjures you to combat against this devouring 
 
 dragon to punish this hell-dog, to silence his sinister 
 
 howlings, and to drive him shamefully back into his den."* 
 Thus spoke the eloquent Tonstall ; nor was Wolsey far be- 
 hind him. The only attachment at all respectable in *his 
 man was that which he entertained for the church ; it may 
 perhaps be called respectable, for it was the only one that did 
 not exclusively regard himself. On the 14th May 1521, this 
 English pope, in imitation of the Italian pope, issued his bull 
 against Luther. 
 
 It was read (probably on the first Sunday in June) in -all 
 the churches during high mass, when the congregation was 
 most numerous. -j- A priest exclaimed : " For every book of 
 Martin Luther's found in your possession within fifteen days 
 after this injunction, you will incur the greater excommuni- 
 cation." Then a public notary, holding the pope's bull in his 
 hand, with a description of Luther's perverse opinions, pro- 
 ceeded towards the principal door of the church and fastened 
 up the document. J The people gathered round it ; the most 
 competent person read it aloud, while the rest listened ; and 
 the following are some of the sentences which, by the pope's 
 order, resounded in the porches of all the cathedral, convent- 
 ual, collegiate, and parish churches of every county in Eng- 
 land^ 
 
 " 11. Sins are not pardoned to any, unless, the priest re- 
 mitting them, he believe they are remitted to him. 
 
 " 13. If by reason of some impossibility, the contrite be 
 not confessed, or the priest absolve him, not in earnest, but 
 in jest ; yet if he believe that he is absolved, he is most truly 
 absolved. 
 
 * Gladio Spiritus abactum inantrum suum coges. Erasm. Ep. p. 1160. 
 
 T Cum major convenerit multitude. Ibid. 
 
 J In valvis seu locis publicis eccle&iae vestrse. Ibid. p. 24. ' 
 
 Strype, M. I. p. 57, (Oxf. ed.) or Luther, xvii. p. 306.
 
 THE CONDEMNED OPINIONS SARCASMS OF THE PEOPLE. 191 
 
 " 11. In the sacrament of pennnce and the remission of a 
 fault, the pope or bishop doth not more than the lowest 
 priest ; yea, where there is not a priest, then any Christian 
 will do ; yea, if it were a woman or a child. 
 
 " 26? The pope, the successor of Peter, is not Christ's 
 vicar. 
 
 " 28. It is not at all in the hand of the church or the pope 
 to decree articles of faith, no, nor to decree the laws of man- 
 ners or of good works." 
 
 The cardinal-legate, accompanied by the nuncio, by the 
 ambassador of Charles V., and by several bishops, proceeded 
 in great pomp to St Paul's, where the bishop of Rochester 
 preached, and Wolsey burnt Luther's books.* But they 
 were hardly reduced to ashes before sarcasms and jests were 
 heard in every direction. " Fire is not a theological argu- 
 ment," said one. " The papists, who accuse Martin Luther 
 of slaying and murdering Christians," added another, " are 
 like the pickpocket, who began to cry stop thief as soon as 
 he saw himself in danger of being caught." " The bishop 
 of Rochester," said a third, " concludes that because Luther 
 has thrown the pope's decretals into the fire, he would throw 
 in the pope himself We may hence deduce another syl- 
 logism quite as sound : The popes have burnt the New Tes- 
 tament, therefore, if they could, they would burn Christ him- 
 self." f These jests were rapidly circulated from mouth to 
 mouth. It was not enough that Luther's writings were 
 in England, they must needs be known, and the priests took 
 upon themselves to advertise them. The Reformation was 
 advancing, and Rome herself pushed behind the car. 
 
 The cardinal saw that something more was required than 
 these paper autos-da-fe, and the activity he displayed may 
 indicate what he would have done in Europe if ever he 
 had reached the pontifical chair. " The spirit of Satan left 
 him no repose," says the papist Sanders. \ Some action out 
 
 * See above, Book IX. chap. x. 
 
 t They would have burnt Christ himself. Tynd. Doctr. Tr., Obedience, 
 fcc. (Park.Soc.)p.221. 
 ^ Satanic piritu act;i . De Sobism. Angl. p. 8.
 
 192 HENRY WRITES AGAINST LUTHER. 
 
 of the ordinary course is needful, thought Wolsey. Kinjr? 
 have hitherto been the enemies of the popes : a king shnU 
 now undertake their defence. Princes are not very anxious 
 
 about learning, a prince shall publish a book! " Sire," 
 
 said he to the king, to get Henry in the vein, " you dught to 
 write to the princes of Germany on the subject of this her- 
 esy." He did so. Writing to the Archduke Palatine, he 
 said : " This fire, which has been kindled by Luther, and 
 fanned by the arts of the devil, is raging everywhere. If 
 Luther does not repent, deliver him and his audacious trea- 
 tises to the flames. I offer you my royal co-operation, and 
 even, if necessary, my life."* This was the first time Henry 
 showed that cruel thirst which was in after-days to be 
 quenched in the blood of his wives and friends. 
 
 The king having taken the first step, it was not difficult 
 for Wolsey to induce him to take another. To defend the 
 honour of Thomas Aquinas, to stand forward as the cham- 
 pion of the church, and to obtain from the pope a title 
 equivalent to that of Christianissimus, most Christian king, 
 were more than sufficient motives to induce Henry to break 
 a lance with Luther. " I will combat with the pen this Cer- 
 berus, sprung from the depths of hell,"-f- said he, " and if he 
 refuses to retract, the fire shall consume the heretic and his 
 heresies together." \ 
 
 The king shut himself up in his library : all the scholastic 
 tastes with which his youth had been imbued were revived ; 
 he worked as if he were archbishop of Canterbury, and not 
 king of England ; with the pope's permission he read Lu- 
 ther's writings ; he ransacked Thomas Aquinas ; forged, 
 with infinite labour, the arrows with which he hoped to 
 pierce the heretic ; called several learned men to his aid, and 
 at last published his book. His first words were a cry of 
 alarm. " Beware of the track of this serpent," said he to his 
 Christian readers ; " walk on tiptoe ; fear the thickets and 
 caves in which he lies concealed, and whence he will dart his 
 
 * Kapps Urkunden, ii. p. 458. 
 
 + Velut Cerberum ex inferis producit in lucem. Regis ad lectorem, 
 Epist. p. 94. 
 J Ut errores ejus eumque ipsum ignis exurat. Ibid. p. 95.
 
 TRADITION AND SACRAMENTALISM PRUDENCE OP MORE. 193 
 
 poison on you. If he licks you, be careful ! the cunning 
 viper caresses only that he may bite!"* After that Henry 
 sounded a charge : " Be of good cheer ! Filled with the same 
 valour that you would display against Turks, Saracens, and 
 other infidels, march now against this little friar, a fellow 
 apparently weak, but more formidable through the spirit that 
 animates him than all infidels, Saracens, and Turks put to- 
 gether." f Thus did Henry VIII., the Peter the Hermit of 
 the sixteenth century, preach a crusade against Luther, in 
 order to save the papacy. 
 
 He had skilfully chosen the ground on which he gave bat- 
 tle : sacramentalism and tradition are in fact the two essen- 
 tial features of the papal religion ; just as a lively faith and 
 Holy Scripture are of the religion of the gospel. Henry did 
 a service to the Reformation, by pointing out the principles 
 it would mainly have to combat ; and by furnishing Luther 
 with an opportunity of establishing the authority of the 
 Bible, he made him take a most important step in the path 
 of reform. " If a teaching is opposed to Scripture," said the 
 Reformer, " whatever be its origin traditions, custom, 
 kings, Thomists, sophists, Satan, or even an angel from hea- 
 ven, all from whom it proceeds must be accursed. Nothing 
 can exist contrary to Scripture, and everything must exist 
 for it." 
 
 Henry's book being terminated by the aid of the bishop ol 
 Rochester, the king showed it to Sir Thomas More, who 
 begged him to pronounce less decidedly in favour of the pa- 
 pal supremacy. " I will not change a word," replied the 
 king, full of servile devotion to the popedom. " Besides, 1 
 have my reasons," and he whispered them in More's ear. 
 
 Doctor Clarke, Ambassador from England at the court of 
 Rome, was commissioned to present the pope with a mag- 
 nificently bound copy of the king's work. " The glory of 
 England," said he, " is to be in the foremost rank among 
 the nations in obedience to the papacy ."J Happily Britain 
 
 * Qui tantum ideo lambit ut mordeat. Assertio Sept. Sacram. 
 t Sed animo Turcis omnibus Sarracenis omnibus usqnam infidelibus 
 nocentiorem fraterculum. Ibid. p. 147. 
 J Fidde? Life of Wolscy, p. 249. 
 9*
 
 194 DEFENDER OP THE FAITH. 
 
 was erelong to know a glory of a very different kind. The 
 ambassador added, that his master, after having refuted 
 Luther's errors with the pen, was ready to combat his ad- 
 herents with the sword* The pope, touched with this 
 offer, gave him his foot, and then his cheek to kiss, and 
 said to him : " I will do for your master's book as much 
 as the church has done for the works of St Jerome and St 
 Augustine." 
 
 The enfeebled papacy had neither the power of intelli- 
 gence, nor even of fanaticism. It still maintained its pre- 
 ' tensions and its pomp, but it resembled the corpses of the 
 mighty ones of the earth that lie in state, clad in their most 
 magnificent robes : splendour above, death and corruption 
 below. The thunderbolts of a Hildebrand ceasing to pro- 
 duce their effect, Rome gratefully accepted the defence of 
 laymen, such as Henry VIII. and Sir Thomas More, with- 
 out disdaining their judicial sentences and their scaffolds. 
 " We must honour those noble champions," said the pope to 
 his cardinals, "who show themselves prepared to cut off 
 with the sword the rotten members of Jesus Christy What 
 title shall we give to the virtuous king of England ? " Pro- 
 tector of the Roman church, suggested one ; Apostolic kin</, 
 said another; and finally, but not without some opposition, 
 Henry VIII. was proclaimed Defender of the Faith. At 
 the same time the pope promised ten years' indulgence to all 
 readers of the king's book. This was a lure after the 
 fashion of the middle ages, and which never failed in its 
 effect. The clergy compared its author to the wisest of 
 kings ; and the book, of which many thousand copies were 
 printed, filled the Christian world (Cochla3us tells us) with 
 admiration and delight. 
 
 Nothing could equal Henry's joy. "His majesty," said 
 the vicar of Croydon, " would not exchange that name for 
 all London and twenty miles round." J The king's fool, 
 entering the room just as his master had received the bull, 
 asked him the cause of his transports. " The pope has just 
 
 * Totius regni sui viribus et armis. Rymer, Fcedera, vi. p. 199. 
 
 f- Putida membra ferro et material! gladio abscindere. Ibid. 
 
 J Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 596. *
 
 HENRY'S EXULTATION. 195 
 
 flamed me Defender of the Faith!" "Ho. ho! good 
 Harry," replied the fool, " let yon and me defend one 
 
 another; but take my word for it let the faith alone 
 
 to defend itself"* An entire modern system was found in 
 those words. In the midst of the general intoxication, the 
 fool was the only sensible person. But Henry could listen 
 to nothing. Seated on an elevated throne, with the cardinal 
 at his right hand, he caused the pope's letter to be read in 
 public. The trumpets sounded: Wolsey said mass; the 
 king and his court took their seats around a sumptuous 
 table, and the heralds at arms proclaimed: Henricus Dei 
 gratia Rex Anglice et Francia?, Defensor Fidei et Dominus 
 Hibcrnice ! 
 
 'Thus was the king of England more than ever united to 
 the pope: whoever brings the Holy Scriptures into his 
 kingdom shall there encounter that material sword, ferrum 
 et materialem gladium, in which the papacy so much de- 
 lighted. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Wolsey's Machinations lo obtain the Tiara He gains Charles V. Alli- 
 ance between Henry and Charles Wolsey offers to command the 
 Troops Treaty of Bruges Henry believes himself King of France 
 Victories of Francis I __ Death of Leo X. 
 
 R thing only was wanting to check more surely the pro- 
 giess of the gospel: Wolsey's accession to the pontifical 
 throne. Consumed by the desire of reaching " the summit 
 of sacerdotal unity," -j- he formed, to attain this end, one of 
 the most perfidious schemes ambition ever engendered. He 
 thought with others : " The end justifies the means." 
 
 The cardinal could only attain the popedom through the 
 
 * Fuller, book v. p. 168. 
 
 t Umtatis sacerdotalis fastigium conscendere. Sanders, De Schism. 
 Aug. 8. ..
 
 196 WOLSEY DESIRES THE TIARA. 
 
 emperor or the king of France; for then, as now, it was the 
 secular powers that really elected the chief of catholicity. 
 After carefully weighing the influence of these two princes, 
 Wolsey found that the balance inclined to the side of 
 Charles, and his choice was made. A close intimacy 
 of long standing united him to Francis I., hut that 
 mattered little; he must betray his friend to gain his 
 friend's rival. 
 
 But this was no easy matter. Henry was dissatisfied 
 with Charles the Fifth.* Wolsey was therefore obliged to 
 employ every imaginable delicacy in his manoeuvres. First 
 he sent Sir Richard Wingfield to the emperor; then he 
 wrote a flattering letter in Henry's name to the princess- 
 regent of the Low Countries. The difficulty was to get the 
 king to sign it. " Have the goodness to put your name," 
 
 said Wolsey, " even if it should annoy your Highness 
 
 You know very well that women like to be pleased." { 
 
 This argument prevailed with the king, who still possessed 
 a spirit of gallantry. Lastly, Wolsey being named arbitra- 
 tor between Charles and Francis, resolved to depart for 
 Calais, apparently to hear the complaints of the two princes ; 
 but in reality to betray one of them. Wolsey felt as much 
 pleasure in such practices, as Francis in giving battle. 
 
 The king of France rejected his arbitration : he had a 
 sharp eye, and his mother one still sharper. " Your master 
 loves me not," said he to Charles's ambassador, " and I do 
 not love him any more, and am determined to be his 
 enemy." J It was impossible to speak more plainly. Far 
 from imitating this frankness, the politic Charles endeav- 
 oured to gain Wolsey, and Wolsey, who was eager to sell 
 himself, adroitly hinted at what price he might be bought. 
 " If the king of England sides with me," Charles informed 
 the cardinal, " you shall be elected pope at the death of Leo 
 X." Francis, betrayed by Wolsey, abandoned by the 
 
 * Hys owne affayris doith not succede with th' Emperour. Stato Pa- 
 pers, vol. i. p. 10. f Ibid. p. 12. 
 
 J He was utterly determined to be his enemy. Cotton MSS. Galba, 
 B. 7, p. 35. 
 
 Ut Wolseus mortuo Leone decimo fieret summus pontifex.
 
 ALLIANCE BETWEEN HENRY AND CHARLES. 197 
 
 pope, and threatened by the emperor, determined at last to 
 accept Henry's mediation. 
 
 But Charles was now thinking of very different matters. 
 Instead of a mediation, he demanded of the king of England 
 4000 of his famous bowmen. Henry smiled as he read the 
 despatch, and looking at Pace his secretary, and Marney 
 the captain of his guards, he said : " Beati qui audiunt et 
 non intelligunt I " thus forbidding them to understand, and 
 above all to bruit abroad this strange request. It waa 
 agreed to raise the number of archers to 6000 ; and the 
 cardinal, having the tiara continually before his eyes, de- 
 parted to perform at Calais the odious comedy of a hypo- 
 critical arbitration. Being detained at Dover by contrary 
 winds, the mediator took advantage of this delay to draw up 
 a list of the 6000 archers and their captains, not forgetting 
 to insert in it, " certain obstinate deer," as Henry had said, 
 " that must of necessity be hunted down."* These were 
 some gentlemen whom the king desired to get rid of. 
 
 While the ambassadors of the king of France were re" 
 ceived at Calais on the 4th of August with great honours, 
 by the lord high chamberlain of England, the cardinal 
 signed a convention with Charles's ministers that Henry 
 should withdraw his promise of the Princess Mary's hand to 
 the dauphin, and give her to the emperor. At the same 
 time he issued orders to destroy the French navy, and to 
 invade France.-}- And, finally, he procured, by way of com- 
 pensating England for the pension of 16,000 pounds hitherto 
 received from the court of St Germains, that the emperor 
 should pay henceforward the annual sum of 40,000 marks. 
 Without ready money the bargain would not have been a 
 good one. 
 
 This was not all. While Wolsey was waiting to be 
 elected pope, he conceived the idea of becoming a soldier. 
 A commander was wanted for the 6000 archers Henry was 
 sending against the king of France ; and why should he not 
 be the cardinal himself? He immediately intrigued to get 
 
 * Sayyinge that certayne hartes were so toggidde for hym, that he 
 must neadys hunte them. State Papers, i. p. 26. 
 t Ibid. i. p. 23.
 
 198 THE TREATY OF BRUGES. 
 
 the noblemen set aside who had been proposed as generals 
 in chief. " Shrewsbury," he said to the king, " is wanted 
 for Scotland Worcester by his experience is worthy that 
 
 you should keep him near you. As for Dorset he 
 
 will be very dear." Then the priest added : " Sire, if during 
 my sojourn on the other side of the sea, you have good 
 
 reason to send your archers I hasten to inform you that 
 
 whenever the emperor takes the command of his soldiers, I 
 am ready, although an ecclesiastic,* to put myself at the 
 head of yours." What devotedness! Wolsey would cause 
 his cross of cardinal a latere to be carried before him (he 
 said); and neither Francis nor Bayard would be able to 
 resist him. To command at the same time the state, the 
 church, and the army, while awaiting the tiara, to sur- 
 round his head with laurels : such was this man's ambition. 
 Unfortunately for him, they were not of that opinion at 
 court. The king made the earl of Essex commander-in- 
 chief. 
 
 As Wolsey could not be general, he turned to diplomacy. 
 He hastened to Bruges ; and as he entered at the emperor's 
 side, a voice was heard above the crowd, exclaiming, Salve, 
 Hex regis tui atque regni sui ! -j- a sound most pleasing to 
 his ears. People were very much astonished at Bruges by 
 the intimacy existing between the cardinal and the emperor. 
 " There is some mystery beneath it all," they said.:]: Wolsey 
 desired to place the crown of France on Henry's head, and 
 the tiara on his own. Such was the mystery, which was 
 well worth a few civilities to the mighty Charles V. The 
 alliance was concluded, and the contracting parties agreed 
 " to avenge the insults offered to the throne of Jesus 
 Christ," or in other words, to the popedom. 
 
 Wolsey, in order to drag Henry into the intrigues which 
 were to procure him the tiara, had reminded him that he was 
 king of France, and the suggestion had been eagerly caught 
 at. At midnight, on the 7th of August, the king dictated 
 
 * Though I be a spiritual man. State Papers, i. p. 31. 
 f Hail, both king of thy king and also of his kingdom. Tynd. Expos. 
 p. 314. 
 J There was a certain secret whereof all men knew not. Ibid. p. 316.
 
 HENRY'S DESIGNS ON FUANX-E. 199 
 
 to his secretary a letter for Wolsey containing this strange 
 expression : Si ibitis parare regi locum in rcgno ejus hfredi~ 
 tario, Majestas ejus quiim tempus erit opportunum, scqwtvr* 
 The theologian who had corrected the famous latin book of 
 the king's against Luther most certainly had not revised 
 this phrase. According to Henry, France was his heredi- 
 tary kingdom, and Wolsey was going to prepare the tlirouy 
 
 for him The king could not restrain his joy at the mere 
 
 idea, and already he surpassed in imagination both Edward 
 III. and the Black Prince. " I am about to attain a glory 
 superior to that which my ancestors have gained by so many 
 wars and battles." { Wolsey traced out for him the road to 
 his palace on the banks of the Seine : " Mezieres is about 
 to fall ; afterwards there is only Rheims, which is not a 
 strong city ; and thus your grace will very easily reach 
 Paris." \ Henry followed on the map the route he would 
 have to take : " Affairs are going on well," wrote the cardi- 
 nal, " the Lord be praised." In him this Christian language 
 was a mere official formality. 
 
 Wolsey was mistaken : things were going on badly. On 
 the 20th of October 1522, Francis I. whom so much perfidy 
 had been unable to deceive, Francis, ambitious and turbu- 
 lent, but honest in this matter at least, and confiding in the 
 strength of his arms, had suddenly appeared between Cam- 
 bray and Valenciennes. The emperor fled to Flanders in 
 ularm, and Wolsey, instead of putting himself at the head of 
 the army, had shielded himself under his arbitrators cloak. 
 Writing to Henry, who, a fortnight before, had by his advice 
 excited Charles to attack France, he said : " I am confident 
 that your virtuous mediation will greatly increase your repu- 
 tation and honour throughout Christendom." Francis re- 
 jected Wolsey's offers, but the object of the latter was attained. 
 The negotiations had gained time for Charles, and bad 
 weather soon stopped the French army. Wolsey returned 
 
 * If you go to prepare a place for the king in his hereditary kingdom, 
 his majesty will follow you at a fitting season. State Papers, i. 36. 
 
 t Majora assequi quam omnes ipsius progenitores tot bellis et prsjliis. 
 State Papers, i. 45. 
 
 J Your grace shall have but a leyre wey to Parys. Ibid. 46. 
 
 Cotton MSS. Calig. D. 8, p. 85.
 
 200 WOLSEY'S PRACTICES. 
 
 satisfied to London about the middle of December. It was 
 true that Henry's triumphant entry into Paris became very 
 difficult ; but the cardinal was sure of the emperor's favour, 
 and through it (he imagined) of the tiara. Wolsey had done, 
 therefore, what he desired. He had hardly arrived in Eng- 
 land when there came news which raised him to the height 
 of happiness : Leo X. was dead. His joy surpassed what 
 Henry had felt at the thought of his hereditary kingdom. 
 Protected by the powerful Charles V., to whom he had sacri- 
 ficed everything, the English cardinal was at last o.n the 
 point of receiving that pontifical crown which would permit 
 him to crush heresy, and which was, in his eyes, the just 
 reward of so many infamous transactions. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Just Men of Lincolnshire Their Assemblies and Teaching Agnes 
 and Morden Itinerant Libraries Polemical Conversations Sarcasm 
 Royal Decree and Terror Depositions and Condemnations Four 
 Martyrs A Conclave Charles consoles Wolsey. 
 
 WOLSEY did not stay until he was pope, before persecuting 
 the disciples of th'e word of God. Desirous of carrying out 
 the stipulations of the convention at Bruges, he had broken 
 out against " the king's subjects who disturbed the apostolic 
 see." Henry had to vindicate the title conferred on him by 
 the pope ; the cardinal had. to gain the popedom ; and both 
 could satisfy their desires by the erection of a few scaffolds. 
 In the county of Lincoln on the shores of the North Sea, 
 along the fertile banks of the Humber, Trent, and Witham, 
 and on the slopes of the smiling hills, dwelt many peaceful 
 Christians labourers, artificers, and shepherds who spent 
 their days in toil, in keeping their flocks, in doing good, and 
 in reading the Bible.* The more the gospel-light increased 
 in England, the greater was the increase in the number of 
 * Being simple labourers and artificers. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 240,
 
 PERSLCJUTIONS IN LIXCOLNSIIIKE. 201 
 
 these children of peace.* These " just men," as they were 
 called, were devoid of human knowledge, but they thirsted 
 for the knowledge of God. Thinking they were alone the 
 true disciples of the Lord, they married only* among them- 
 selves.-}- They appeared occasionally at church ; but instead 
 of repeating their prayers like the rest, they sat, said their 
 enemies, " mum like beasts." J On Sundays and holidays, 
 they assembled in each other's houses, and sometimes passed 
 a whole jiight in reading a portion of Scripture. If there 
 chanced to be few books among them, one of the brethren, 
 who had learnt by heart the epistle of St James, the begin- 
 ning of St Luke's gospel, the sermon on the mount, or an 
 epistle of St Paul's, would recite a few verses in a loud and 
 calm voice ; then all would piously converse about the holy 
 truths of the faith, and exhort one another to put them in 
 practice. But if any person joined their meetings, who did 
 not belong to their body, they would all keep silent. Speak- 
 ing much among each other, they were speechless before 
 those from without : fear of the priests and of the fagot made 
 them dumb. There was no family rejoicing without the 
 Scriptures. At the marriage of a daughter of the aged Dur- 
 dant, one of their patriarchs, the wedding party met secretly 
 in a barn, and read the whole of one of St Paul's epistles. 
 Marriages are rarely celebrated with such pastimes as this ! 
 Although they were dumb before enemies or suspected 
 persons, these poor people did not keep silence in the pre- 
 sence of the humble ; a glowing proselytism characterized 
 them all. " Come to my house," said the pious Agnes Ash- 
 ford to James Morden, " and I will teach you some verses 
 of Scripture." Agnes was an educated woman ; she could 
 read ; Morden came, and the poor woman's chamber was 
 transformed into a school of theology. Agnes began : " Ye 
 are the salt of the earth," and then recited the following 
 
 * As the light of the gospel began more to appear, and the numbers ol 
 professors to grow. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 217. 
 
 f Did contract matrimony only with themselves. Ibid. p. 223. 
 
 J Ibid. p. 225. 
 
 If any came in among them that were not of their side, then tbej 
 would keep all silent. Ibid. p. 222. 
 
 i2
 
 202 ITINERANT LIBRARIES. 
 
 verses.* Five times did Morden return to Agnes before he 
 knew that beautiful discourse. " We are spread like salt 
 over the various parts of the kingdom," said this Christian 
 woman to the neophyte, " in order that we may check the 
 progress of superstition by our doctrine and our life. But," 
 added she in alarm, " keep this secret in your heart, as a 
 man would keep a thief in prison." -J- 
 
 As books were rare, these pious Christians had established 
 a kind of itinerant library, and one John Scrivener was con- 
 tinually engaged in carrying the precious volumes from one 
 to another. | But at times, as he was proceeding along the 
 banks of the river, or through the forest glades, he observed 
 that he was followed. He would quicken his pace and run 
 into some barn, where the friendly peasants promptly hid him 
 beneath the straw, or, like the spies of Israel, under the stalks 
 of flax. The bloodhounds arrived, sought and found noth- 
 ing ; and more than once those who so generously harboured 
 these evangelists cruelly expiated the crime of charity. 
 
 The disappointed officers had scarcely retired from the 
 neighbourhood when these friends of the word of God came 
 out of their hiding-place, and profited by the moment of 
 liberty to assemble the brethren. The persecutions they suf- 
 fered irritated them against the priests. They worshipped 
 God, read and sang with a low voice ; but when the conver- 
 sation became general, they gave free course to their indig- 
 nation. " Would you know the use of the pope's pardons ? " 
 said one of them ; " they are to blind the eyes and empty 
 the purse." " True pilgrimages," said the tailor Geoffrey of 
 Uxbridge, " cpnsist in visiting the poor and sick barefoot, 
 if so it please you for these are the little ones that are 
 God's true image." " Money spent in pilgrimages," added 
 a third, "serves only to maintain thieves and harlots." || 
 The women were often the most animated in the controversy. 
 " What need is there to go to the feet" said Agnes Ward, 
 who disbelieved in saints, " when we may go to the head ? "^[ 
 
 * Matth. v. 13-16. 
 
 t Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 225. 
 
 J Carrying about books from one to another. Ibid. p. 224 ( 
 
 Hiding others in their barns. Ibid. p. 243. 
 
 !l Ibid. f Ibid. p. 229.
 
 THE ROYAL DECREE. 203 
 
 " The clergy of the good old times," said the wife of David 
 Lewis, " used to lead the people as a hen leadeth her chick- 
 ens;* but now if our priests lead their flocks anywhere, it 
 is to the devil assuredly." 
 
 Erelong there was a general panic throughout this dis- 
 trict. The king's confessor John Longland was bishop of 
 Lincoln. This fanatic priest, Wolsey's creature, took advan- 
 tage of his position to petition Henry for a severe persecu- 
 tion : this was the ordinary use in England, France, and 
 elsewhere, of the confessors of princes. It was unfortunate 
 that among these pious disciples of the word men of a cyni- 
 cal turn were now and then met with, whose biting sarcasms 
 went beyond all bounds. Wolsey and Longland knew how 
 to employ these expressions in arousing the king's anger. 
 " As one of -these fellows," they said, " was busy beating out 
 his corn in his barn, a man chanced to pass by. ' Good 
 morrow, neighbour,' (said the latter), ' you are hard at it!' 
 ' Yes,' replied the old heretic, thinking of transubstantia- 
 tion, ' I am thrashing the corn out of which the priests make 
 God Almighty.'" -|- Henry hesitated no longer. 
 
 On the 20th October 1521, nine days after the bull on 
 the Defender of the Faith had been signed at Rome, the 
 king, who was at Windsor, summoned his secretary, and 
 dictated an order commanding all his subjects to assist the 
 bishop of Lincoln against the heretics. " You will obey it 
 at the peril of your lives," added he. The order was trans- 
 mitted to Longland, and the bishop immediately issued his 
 ^warrants, and his officers spread terror far and wide. "When 
 they beheld them, these peaceful but timid Christians were 
 troubled. Isabella Bartlet, hearing them approach her cot- 
 tage, screamed out to her husband : " You are a lost man ! 
 and I am a dead woman !"J This cry was re-echoed from 
 all the cottages of Lincolnshire. The bishop, on his judg- 
 ment-seat, skilfully played upon these poor unhappy beings 
 to make them accuse one another. Alas ! according to the 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, ir. p. 224. 
 
 f I thresh God Almighty out of the straw. Ibid. p. 222. 
 J Alas ! now are you an undone man, and I but a dead woman. Ibid. 
 p. 224.
 
 204 THE BISHOP'S TRIBUNAL. 
 
 ancient prophecy : " the brother delivered up the brother tc 
 death." Robert Bartlet deposed against his brother Richard 
 and his own wife ; Jane Bernard accused her own father, 
 and Tredway his mother. It was not until after the most 
 cruel anguish that these poor creatures were driven to such 
 frightful extremities ; but the bishop and death terrified 
 them : a small number alone remained firm. As regards 
 heroism, Wickliffe's Reformation brought but a feeble aid to 
 the Reformation of the sixteenth century ; still if it did not 
 furnish many heroes, it prepared the English people to love 
 God's word above all things. Of these humble people, some 
 were condemned to do penance in different monasteries ; 
 others to .carry a fagot on their shoulders thrice round the 
 market-place, and then to stand some time exposed to the 
 jeers of the populace ; others were fastened to a post while 
 the executioner branded them on the cheek with a red-hot 
 iron. They also had their martyrs. Wickliffe's revival had 
 never been without them. Four of these brethren were 
 chosen to be put to death, and among them the pious evan- 
 gelical colporteur Scrivener. By burning him to ashes the 
 clergy desired to make sure that he would no longer circulate 
 the word of God ; and by a horrible refinement of cruelty 
 his children were compelled to set fire to the pile that was 
 to consume their father.* They stretched forth their trem- 
 bling hands, held in the strong grasp of the executioners 
 
 Poor children! But it is easier to burn the limbs of 
 
 Christians than to quench the Spirit of Heaven. These 
 cruel fires could not destroy among the Lincolnshire peas- 
 antry that love of the Bible, which in all ages has been 
 England's strength, far more than the wisdom of her sena- 
 tors or the bravery of her generals. 
 
 Having by these exploits gained indisputable claims to 
 the tiara, Wolsey turned his efforts towards Rome. Leo 
 X., as we have seen, was just dead (1522). The cardinal 
 sent Pace to Rome, instructing him to "represent to the 
 cardinals that by choosing a partisan of Charles or Francis 
 they will incur the enmity of one or the other of these princes, 
 and that if they elect some feeble Italian priest, the apos(ol~ 
 * Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 245.
 
 WOL8EY LOSES THE TIAR.^ 205 
 
 real see must become the prey of the strongest. Luther's 
 revolt and the emperor's ambition endanger the papacy. 
 There is only one means of preventing the threatening dan- 
 gers ...... It is to choose me ...... Now, go and exert yourself."* 
 
 The conclave opened at Rome on the 27th December, and 
 Wolsey was proposed ; but the cardinals were not generally 
 favourable to his election. " He is too young," said one ; 
 " too firm," said another. " He will fix the scat of the 
 papacy in England and not in Rome," urged many. He 
 did not receive twenty votes. " The cardinals," wrote the 
 English ambassador, " snarled and quarrelled with each 
 other ; and their bad faith and hatred increased every day." 
 On the sixth day, only one dish was sent them ; and then in 
 despair they chose Adrian, who had been tutor to the em- 
 peror, and the cry was raised : Papam habemus ! 
 
 During all this time Wolsey was in London, consumed by 
 ambition, and counting the days and hours. At length a 
 despatch from Ghent, dated the 22d January, reached him 
 with these words : " On the 9th of January, the cardinal of 
 Tortosa was elected!" ...... Wolsey was almost distracted. 
 
 To gain Charles, he had sacrificed the alliance of Francis I. ; 
 there was no stratagem that he had not employed, and yet 
 Charles, in spite of his engagements, had procured the elec- 
 tion of his tutor! ...... The emperor knew what must be the 
 
 cardinal's anger, and endeavoured to appease it : " The new 
 pope," he wrote, " is old and sickly ;-{- he cannot hold his 
 office long ...... Beg the cardinal of York for my sake to take 
 
 great care of his health" 
 
 Charles did more than this : he visited London in person, 
 under pretence of his betrothal with Mary of England, and, in 
 the treaty then drawn up, he consented to the insertion of 
 an article by virtue of which Henry VIII. and the mighty 
 emperor bound themselves, if either should infringe the 
 treaty, to appear before Wolsey and to submit to his deci- 
 
 * The sole way ...... was to chuse him. Herbert, p. 110. 
 
 + The new elect is both old, sickly ......... so that he shall not have the 
 
 office long. Cotton MSS. Galba. B. vii. p. 6.
 
 206 ^CHARACTER OF TYNDALE. 
 
 eions.* The cardinal, gratified by such condescension, grew 
 calm ; and at the same time he was soothed with the most 
 flattering hopes. " Charles's imbecile preceptor," they told 
 him, "has arrived at the Vatican, attended only by his 
 female cook ; you shall soon make your entrance there sur- 
 rounded by all your grandeur." To be certain of his game, 
 Wolsey made secret approaches to Francis I., and then wait- 
 ed for the death of the pope.f 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Character of Tyndale He arrives in London He preaches The Cloth 
 and the Ell The Bishop of London gives Audience to Tyndale He is 
 dismissed A Christian Merchant of London Spirit of Love in the Re- 
 formation Tyndale in Monmouth's House Fry th helps him to tran- 
 slate the New Testament Importunities of the Bishop of Lincoln 
 Persecution in London Tyndale's Resolution He departs His In- 
 dignation against the Prelates His Hopes. 
 
 WHILE the cardinal was intriguing to attain his selfish ends, 
 Tyndale was humbly carrying out the great idea of giving 
 the Scriptures of God to England. 
 
 After bidding a sad farewell to the manor-house of Sod- 
 bury, the learned tutor had departed for London. This 
 occurred about 'the end of 1522 or the beginning of 1523. 
 He had left the university he had forsaken the house of 
 his protector ; his wandering career was about to commence, 
 but a thick veil hid from him all its sorrows. Tyndale, a 
 man simple in his habits, sober, daring, and generous, fear- 
 ing neither fatigue nor danger, inflexible in his duty, anoint- 
 ed with the Spirit of God, overflowing with love for his 
 brethren, emancipated from human traditions, the servant ol 
 God alone, and loving nought but Jesus Christ, imagina- 
 
 * Both princes appearing before the cardinal of York as judge. Art. 
 si ii. Herbert, p. 118. 
 f Mortem etiam Adriani expectat. Sanders, p. 8.
 
 TYNDALE ARRIVES IN LONDON. 207 
 
 live, quick at repartee, and of touching eloquence sucli a 
 man might have shone in the foremost ranks ; but he pre- 
 ferred a retired life in some poor corner, provided he could 
 give his countrymen the Scriptures of God. Where could 
 he find this calm retreat? was the question he put to himself 
 as he was making his solitary way to London. The me- 
 tropolitan see was then filled by Cuthbert Tonstalr} who was 
 more of a statesman and a scholar than of a churchman, 
 " the first of English men in Greek and Latin literature," 
 said Erasmus. This eulogy of the learned Dutchman oc- 
 curred to Tyndale's memory.* It was the Greek Testament 
 of Erasmus that led me to Christ, said he to himself; why 
 should not the house of Erasmus's friend offer me a shelter 
 
 that I may translate it At last he reached London, and, 
 
 a stranger in that crowded city, he wandered along the 
 streets, a prey by turns to hope and fear. 
 
 Being recommended by Sir John Walsh to Sir Harry 
 Guildford, the king's comptroller, and by him to several 
 priests, Tyndale began to preach almost immediately, espe- 
 cially at St Dunstan's, and bore into the heart of the capital 
 the truth which had been banished from the banks of the 
 Severn. The word of God was with him the basis of salva- 
 tion, and the grace of God its essence. His inventive mind 
 presented the truths he proclaimed in a striking manner. 
 He said on one occasion : " It is the blood of Christ that 
 opens the gates of heaven, and not thy works. I am wrong 
 
 Yes, if thou wilt have it so, by thy good works shalt 
 
 thou be saved. Yet, understand me well, not by those 
 which thou hast done, but by those which Christ has done 
 for thee. Christ is in thee and thou in him, knit together 
 inseparably. Thou canst not be damned, except Christ be 
 damned with thee ; neither can Christ be saved except thou 
 be saved with him."f This lucid view of justification by 
 faith places Tyndale among the reformers. He did not take 
 his seat on a bishop's throne, or wear a silken cope ; but he 
 mounted the scaffold, and was clothed with a garment of 
 
 * As I thus thought, the bishop of London came to my remembrance. 
 Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 
 t Ibid. p. 79.
 
 208 TYNDALE IS RECOMMENDED TO TONSTALL. 
 
 flames. In the service of a crucified Saviour this latter dis- 
 tinction is higher than the former.* 
 
 Yet the translation was his chief business ; he spoke to 
 his acquaintances about it, and some of them opposed his 
 project. " The teachings of the doctors," said some of the 
 city tradesmen, " can alone make us understand Scripture." 
 " That is*to say," replied Tyndale, " I must measure the 
 yard by the cloth* Look here," continued he, using a 
 practical argument, " here are in your shop twenty pieces of 
 
 stuff of different lengths Do you measure the yard by 
 
 these pieces, or the pie'ces by the yard? The universal 
 
 standard is Scripture." This comparison was easily fixed in 
 the minds of the petty tradesmen of the capital. 
 
 Desirous of carrying out his project, Tyndale aspired to 
 become the bishop's chaplain ; { his ambition was more 
 modest than Wolsey's. The Hellenist possessed qualities 
 which could not fail to please the most learned of English- 
 men in Greek literature : Tonstall and Tyndale both liked 
 and read the same authors. The ex-tutor determined to 
 plead his cause through the elegant and harmonious dis- 
 ciple of Radicus and Gorges: ".Here is one of Isocrates' 
 orations that I have translated into Latin," said he to Sir 
 Harry Guildford ; " I should be pleased to become chaplain 
 to his lordship the bishop of London ; will you beg him .to 
 accept this trifle. Isocrates ought to be an excellent recom- 
 mendation to a scholar ; will you be good enough to add 
 yours." Guildford spoke to the bishop, placed the transla- 
 tion in his hands, and Tonstall replied with that benevolence 
 which he showed to every one. " Your business is in a 
 fair way," said the comptroller to Tyndale ; " write a letter 
 to his lordship, and deliver it yourself." J 
 
 Tyndale's hopes now began to be realized. He wrote his 
 letter ,in the best style, and then, commending himself to 
 God, proceeded to the episcopal palace. He fortunately 
 knew one of the bishop's officers, William Hebilthwayte, to 
 
 * Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 153. 
 
 ) He laboured to be his chaplain. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 617. 
 % He willed me to write an epistle to my lord, and to go to him myself, 
 (bid.
 
 INTERVIEW WITH THE BISHOP OF LONDON. 209 
 
 whom he gave the letter. Hebilthwayte carried it to his 
 lordship, while Tyndale waited. His heart throbbed with 
 anxiety : shall he find at last the long hoped for asylum ? 
 The bishop's answer might decide the whole course of his 
 life. If the door is opened, if the translator of the Scrip- 
 tures should be settled in the episcopal palace, why should 
 not his London patron receive the truth like his patron at 
 Sodbury ? and, in that case, what a future for the church 
 
 and for the kingdom! The Reformation was knocking at 
 
 the door of the hierarchy of England, and the latter was 
 about to utter its yea or its nay. After a few moments' 
 absence Hebilthwayte returned : " I am going to conduct 
 you to his lordship." Tyndale fancied himself that he had 
 attained his wishes. 
 
 The bishop was too kind-hearted to refuse an audience to 
 a man who called upon him with the triple recommendation 
 of Isocrates, of the comptroller, and of the king's old com- 
 panion in arms. He received Tyndale with kindness, a little 
 tempered however with coldness, as if he were a man whose 
 acquaintanceship might compromise him. Tyndale having 
 made known his wishes, the bishop hastened to reply: 
 " Alas ! my house is full ; I have now more people than I 
 can employ."* Tyndale was discomfited by this answer. 
 The bishop of London was a learned man, but wanting in 
 courage and consistency; he gave his right hand to the 
 friends of letters and of the gospel, and his left hand to the 
 friends of the priests ; and then endeavoured to walk with 
 both. But when he had to choose between the two parties, 
 clerical interests prevailed. There was no lack of bishops, 
 priests, and laymen about him, who intimidated him by their 
 clamours. After taking a few steps forward, he suddenly 
 recoiled. Still Tyndale ventured to hazard a word ; but the 
 prelate was cold as before. The humanists, who laughed at 
 the ignorance of the monks, hesitated to touch an ecclesias- 
 tical system which lavished on them such rich sinecures. 
 They accepted the new ideas in theory, but not in practice. 
 They were very willing to .discuss them at table, but not to 
 
 * My lord answered me, his house was full. Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 
 385. 
 
 VOL. V. 1
 
 210 THE LONDON MERCHANT. 
 
 proclaim them from the pulpit ; and covering the Greek Testa- 
 ment with applause, they tore it in pieces when rendered 
 into the vulgar tongue. " If you will look well about Lon- 
 don," said Tonstall coldly to the poor priest, " you will not 
 fail to meet with some suitable employment." This was all 
 Tyndale could obtain. Hebilthwayte waited on him to the 
 door, and the Hellenist departed sad and desponding. 
 
 His expectations were disappointed. Driven from the 
 banks of the Severn, without a home in the capital, what 
 would become of the translation of the Scriptures ? " Alas ! " 
 
 he said ; " I was deceived * there is nothing to be looked 
 
 for from the bishops Christ was smitten on the cheek 
 
 before the bishop, Paul was buffeted before the bishop -j- 
 
 and a bishop has just turned me away." His dejection did 
 not last long : there was an elastic principle in his soul. " I 
 hunger for the word of God," said he, " I will translate it, 
 whatever they may say or do. God will not suffer me to 
 perish. He never made a mouth but he made food for it, 
 nor a body, but he made raiment also." ^ 
 
 This trustfulness was not misplaced. It was the privilege 
 of a layman to give what the bishop refused. Among Tyn- 
 dale's hearers at St Dunstan's was a rich merchant named 
 Humphrey Monmouth, who had visited Rome, and to whom 
 (as well as to his companions) the pope had been so kind 
 as to give certain Roman curiosities, such as indulgences, 
 a culpd et a poend. Ships laden with his manufac- 
 tures every year quitted London for foreign countries. He 
 had formerly attended Colet's preaching at St Paul's, and 
 from the year 1515 he had known the word of God. He 
 was one of the gentlest and most obliging men in England ; 
 he kept open house for the friends of learning and of the 
 gospel, and his library contained the newest publications. 
 In putting on Jesus Christ, Monmouth had particularly 
 striven to put on his character ; he helped generously with 
 
 * I was beguiled. Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 
 + Expositions, p. 59. 
 Tyndale and Fryth's Works, ii. p. 349. 
 
 The rich man began to be a Scripture man. Latimer's Sermons, 
 p. 440 (Park. Soe.)
 
 A RICH AND A POOR MAN. _' 1 1 
 
 his purse both priests and men of letters; lie gave forty 
 pounds sterling to the chaplain of the bishop of London, the 
 'same to the king's, to the provincial of the Augustines, and 
 to others besides. Latimer, who sometimes dined with him, 
 once related in the pulpit an anecdote characteristic of the 
 friends of the Reformation in England. Among the regular 
 guests at Monmouth's table was one of his poorest neigh- 
 bours, a zealous Romanist, to whom hjs generous host often 
 used to lend money. One day when -the pious merchant 
 was extolling Scripture and blaming popery, his neighbour 
 turned pale, rose from the table, and left the room. " I will 
 never set foot in his house again," he said to his friends. 
 " and I will never borrow another shilling of him."* He 
 next went to the bishop and laid an informatipn against his 
 benefactor. Monmouth forgave him, and tried to bring him 
 back ; but the neighbour constantly turned out of his .way. 
 Once, however, they met in a street so narrow that he could 
 not escape. " I will pass by without looking at him," said the 
 Romanist turning away his head. But Monmouth went 
 straight to him, took him by the hand, and said affection- 
 ately : " Neighbour, what wrong have I done you ?" and he 
 continued to speak to him with so much love, that the poor 
 man fell on his knees, burst into tears, and begged his for- 
 giveness.-{- Such was the spirit which, at the very outset, 
 animated the work of the Reformation in England : it was 
 acceptable to God, and found favour with the people. 
 
 Monmouth being edified by Tyndale's sermons, inquired 
 into his means of living. " I have none," f replied he, " but 
 I hope to enter into the bisnop's service." This was before 
 his visit to Tonstall. When Tyndale saw all his hopes frus- 
 trated, he went to Monmouth and told him everything. 
 " Come and live with me," said the wealthy merchant, " and 
 there labour." God did to Tyndale according to his faith. 
 Simple, frugal, devoted to work, he studied night and day ; 
 and wishing to guard his mind against " being overcharged 
 
 with surfeiting," he refused the delicacies of his patron's 
 
 
 
 * Latimer's Works, i. p. 441. He would borrow no [more] money of 
 him. t Ibid. J Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 617. 
 
 Strype, Records, i. p. 664.
 
 212 FRYTH JOINS TYNDALE. 
 
 table, and would take nothing but sodden meat and small 
 beer.* It would even seem that he carried simplicity in 
 dress almost too far.f By his conversation and his works, 
 he shed over the house of his patron the mild light of the 
 Christian virtues, and Monmouth loved him more and more 
 every day. 
 
 Tyndale was advancing in his work when John Fryth, the 
 mathematician of King's College, Cambridge, arrived in Lon- 
 don. It is probable that Tyndale, feeling the want of an 
 associate, had invited him. United like Luther and Me- 
 lancthon, the two friends held many precious conversations 
 together. " I will consecrate my life wholly to the church 
 of Jesus Christ," said Fryth.:j: " To be a good man, you 
 must give great part of yourself to your parents, a greater 
 part to your country ; but the greatest of all to the church 
 of the Lord." " The people should know the word of God," 
 they said both. " The interpretation of the gospel, without 
 the intervention of councils or popes, is sufficient to create a 
 saving faith in the heart." They shut themselves up in the 
 little room in Monmouth's house, and translated chapter 
 after chapter from the Greek into plain English. The bishop 
 of London knew nothing of the work going on a few yards 
 from him, and everything was succeeding to Tyndale's wishes 
 when it was interrupted by an unforeseen circumstance. 
 
 Longland, the persecutor of the Lincolnshire Christians, 
 did not confine his activity within the limits of his diocese ; 
 he besieged the king, the cardinal, and the queen with his 
 cruel importunities, using Wolsey's influence with Henry, 
 and Henry's with Wolsey. " H\s majesty," he wrote to the 
 cardinal, " shows in this" holy dispute as much goodness as 
 
 zeal yet, be pleased to urge him to overthrow God's 
 
 enemies." And then turning to the king, the confessor said, 
 to spur him on : " The cardinal is about to fulminate the 
 greater excommunication against all who possess Luther's 
 
 " Strype, Records, i. p. 6G4. He would eat sodden meat and 
 drink but small single beer. 
 
 J- He was never seen in that house to wear linen about him*. Ibid. 
 
 J Tyndale and Fryth's Works, ii\. p. 73, 74. 
 
 That the poor people might also read and see the simple plain word 
 of God. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 118.
 
 LONGLAND'S IMPORTUNITIES. 213 
 
 works or hold his opinions, and to make the booksellers sign 
 a bond before the magistrates, not to sell heretical books." 
 " Wonderful ! " replied Henry with a sneer, " they will fear 
 the magisterial bond, I think, more than the clerical excom- 
 munication." And yet the consequences of the " clerical" 
 excommunication were to be very positive ; whosoever per- 
 severed in his offence was to be pursued by the law ad ignem, 
 even to the fire.* At last the confessor applied to the queen : 
 " We cannot be sure of restraining the press," he said to 
 her. " These wretched books come to us from Germany, 
 France, and the Low Countries ; and are even printed in 
 the very midst of us. Madam, we must train and prepare 
 skilful men, such as are able to discuss the controverted 
 points, so that the laity, struck on the one hand by well de- 
 veloped arguments, and frightened by the fear of punishment 
 on the other, may be kept in obedience." -}- In the bishop's 
 system, " fire " was to be the complement of Roman learn- 
 ing. The essential idea of Jesuitism is already visible in 
 this conception of Henry the Eighth's confessor. That sys- 
 tem is the natural development of Romanism. 
 
 Tonstall, urged forward by Longland, and desirous of 
 showing himself as holy a churchman as he had once been a 
 skilful statesman and elegant scholar Tonstall, the friend of 
 Erasmus, began to persecute. He would have feared to shed 
 blood, like Longland ; but there are measures which torture 
 the mind and not the body, and which the most moderate 
 men fear not to make use of. John Higgins, Henry Cham- 
 bers, Thomas Eaglestone, a priest named Edmund Spilman, 
 and some other Christians in London, used to meet and read 
 portions of the Bible in English, and even asserted publicly 
 that " Luther had more learning in his little finger than all 
 the doctors in England." J The bishop ordered these rebels to 
 be arrested : he flattered and alarmed them, threatening them 
 with a cruel death (which he would hardly have inflicted on 
 them), and by these skilful practices reduced them to silence. 
 
 " Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 42. 
 
 t Ibid. p. 42, 43. Herbert says (p. 147) " to suspend the laity betwix* 
 fear and controversies." 
 J Fose, Acts, v. p. 17!'.
 
 214 TYNDALE RESOLVES TO LEAVE ENGLAND. 
 
 Tyndale, who witnessed this persecution, feared lest the 
 stake should interrupt his labour. If those who read a few 
 fragments of Scripture are threatened with death, what will 
 he not have to endure who is translating the whole ? His 
 friends entreated him to withdraw from the bishop's pursuit 
 " Alas ! " he exclaimed, " is there then no place where I can 
 
 translate the Bible? It is not the bishop's house alone 
 
 that is closed against me, but all England." * 
 
 He then made a great sacrifice. Since there is no place 
 in his own country where he can translate the word of God, 
 he will go and seek one among the nations of the continent. 
 It is true the people are unknown to him ; he is without re- 
 sources ; perhaps persecution and even death await him 
 
 there It matters not ! some time must elapse before it is 
 
 known what he is doing, and perhaps he will have been 
 able to translate the Bible. He turned his eyes towards 
 Germany. " God does not destine us to a quiet life here 
 below," he said. f- " If he calls us to peace on the part of 
 Jesus Christ, he calls us to war on the part of the world." 
 
 There lay at that moment in the river Thames a vessel 
 loading for Hamburg. Monmouth gave Tyndale ten pounds 
 sterling for his voyage, and other friends contributed a like 
 amount. He left the half of this sum in the hands of his 
 benefactor to provide for his future wants, and prepared to 
 quit London, where he had spent a year. Rejected by his 
 fellow-countrymen, persecuted by the clergy, and carrying 
 with him only his New Testament and his ten pounds, he 
 went on board the ship, shaking off the dust of his feet, ac- 
 cording to his Master's precept, and that dust fell back on 
 the priests of England. He was indignant (says the chroni- 
 cler) against those coarse monks, covetous priests, and pom- 
 pous prelates, J who were waging an impious war against 
 God. " What a trade is that of the priests ! " he said in one 
 of his later writings ; " they want money for everything : 
 
 * But also that there was no place to do it in all England. Tynd. 
 Doctr. Tr. p. 396. 
 
 f We be not called to a soft living. Ibid. p. 249. 
 
 J Marking especially the demeanour of the preachers, and beholding 
 the pomp of the prelates. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 118.
 
 HIS INDIGNATION AGAINST THE PRELATES. 215 
 
 money for baptism, money for churehings, for weddings, for 
 buryings, for images, brotherhoods, penances, soul-masses, 
 bells, organs, chalices, copes, surplices, ewers, censers, and 
 all manner of ornaments. Poor sheep ! The parson shears, 
 the vicar shaves, the parish priest polls, the friar scrapes, 
 
 the indulgence seller pares all that you want is a butcher 
 
 to flay you and take away your skin. * He will not leave 
 you long. Why are your prelates dressed in red ? Because 
 they are ready to shed the blood of whomsoever seeketh the 
 word of God.f Scourge of states, devastators of kingdoms, 
 the priests take away not only Holy Scripture, but also pro- 
 sperity and peace ; but of their councils is no layman : reign- 
 ing over all, they obey nobody ; and making all concur to 
 their own greatness, they conspire against every kingdom." J 
 
 No kingdom was to be more familiar than England with 
 the conspiracies of the papacy of which Tyndale spoke ; and 
 yet none was to free itself more irrevocably from the power 
 of Rome. 
 
 Yet Tyndale was leaving the shores of his native land, 
 and as he turned his eyes towards the new countries, hope 
 revived in his heart. He was going to be free, and he would 
 use his liberty to deliver the word of God, so long held cap- 
 tive. " The priests," he said one day, " when they had slain 
 Christ, set poleaxes to keep him in his sepulchre, that he 
 should not rise again ; even so have our priests buried the 
 Testament of God, and all their study is to keep it down, that 
 it rise not again. But the hour of the Lord is come, and 
 nothing can hinder the word of God, as nothing could hinder 
 Jesus Christ of old from issuing from the tomb." Indeed 
 that poor man, then sailing towards Germany, was to send 
 back, even from the banks of the Elbe, the eternal gospel to 
 his countrymen. 
 
 Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 238. Obedience of a Christian Man. 
 f Ibid. p. 251. J Ibid. p. 191. 
 
 Ibid. p. 251.
 
 216 B1LNEY AT CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Bilney at Cambridge Conversions The University Cross-bearer A 
 Leicestershire Farmer A Party of Students Superstitious Practices 
 An obstinate Papist The Sophists Latimer attacks Stafford Bil- 
 ney's Resolution Latimer hears Bilney's Confession Confessor con- 
 verted New Life in Latimer Bilhey preaches Grace Nature of the 
 Ministry Latimer's Character and Teaching Works of Charity 
 Three Classes of Adversaries Clark and Dalaber. 
 
 THIS ship did not bear away all the hopes of England. A 
 society of Christians had been formed at Cambridge, of which 
 Bilney was the centre. He now knew no other canon law 
 than Scripture, and had found a new master, " the Holy Spi- 
 rit of Christ," says an historian. Although he was naturally 
 timid, and often suffered from the exhaustion brought on by 
 his fasts and vigils, there was in his language a life, liberty, 
 and strength, strikingly in contrast with his sickly appear- 
 ance. He desired to draw to the knowledge of God,* all who 
 came nigh him ; and by degrees, the rays of the gospel sun, 
 which was then rising in the firmament of Christendom, 
 pierced the ancient windows of the colleges, and illuminated 
 the solitary chambers of certain of the masters and fellows. 
 Master Arthur, Master Thistle of Pembroke Hall, and Mas- 
 ter Stafford, were among the first to join Bilney. George 
 Stafford, professor of divinity, was a man of deep learning 
 and holy life, clear and precise in his teaching. He was ad- 
 mired by every one in Cambridge, so that his conversion, like 
 that of his friends, spread alarm among the partisans of the 
 schoolmen. But a conversion still more striking than this 
 was destined to give the English Reformation a champion 
 more illustrious than either Stafford or Bilney. 
 
 There was in Cambridge, at that time, a priest notorious 
 for his ardent fanaticism. In the processions, amidst the 
 pomp, prayers, and chanting of the train, none could fail to 
 
 * So was in his heart an incredible desire to allure many. Foxe, Acts. 
 \ p. 620.
 
 A LEICESTERSHIRE FARMER. 217 
 
 notice a master-of-arts, about thirty years of age, who, with 
 erect head, carried proudly the university cross. Hugh La- 
 timer, for such was his name, combined a biting humour 
 with an impetuous disposition and indefatigable zeal, and 
 was very quick in ridiculing the faults of his adversaries. 
 There was more wit and raillery in his fanaticism than can 
 often be found in such characters. He followed the friends 
 of the word of God into the colleges and houses where they 
 used to meet, debated with them, and pressed them to aban- 
 don their faith. He was a second Saul, and was soon to re- 
 semble the apostle of the Gentiles in another respect. 
 
 He first saw light in the year 1491, in the county of Lei- 
 cester. Hugh's father was an honest yeoman ; and, accom- 
 panied by one of his six sisters, the little boy had often 
 tended in the pastures the five score sheep belonging to the 
 farm, or driven home to his mother the thirty cows it was 
 her business to milk.* In 1497, the Cornish rebels, under 
 Lord Audley, having encamped at Blackhedth, our farmer had 
 donned his rusty armour, and, mounting his horse, responded 
 to the summons of the crown. Hugh, then only six years 
 old, was present at his departure, and as if he had wished to 
 take his little part in the battle, he had buckled the straps 
 of his father's armour. -J- Fifty-two years afterwards he re- 
 called this circumstance to mind in-a sermon preached before 
 King Edward. His father's house was always open to the 
 neighbours ; and no poor man ever turned away from the 
 door without having received alms. The old man brought 
 up his family in the love of men and in the fear of God, and 
 having remarked with joy the precocious understanding of 
 his son, he had him educated in the country schools, and 
 then sent to Cambridge at the age of fourteen. This was in 
 1505, just as Luther was entering the Augustine convent. 
 
 The son of the Leicestershire yeoman was lively, fond of 
 pleasure, and of cheerful conversation, and mingled fre- 
 quently in the amusements of his fellow-students. One day, 
 as they were dining together, one of the party exclaimed : 
 
 * My mother milked thirty kine. Latimer's Sermons, (Parker ed.) 
 p. 101. 
 1 1 can remember that I buckled his harness. Ibid. 
 
 10* K
 
 218 SUPERSTITIOUS PRACTICES. 
 
 Nil melius quam Icetari et facere bene ! " There is nothing 
 better than to be merry and to do well." * " A vengeance 
 on that bene /" replied a monk of impudent mien ; " I wish 
 it were beyond the sea; f it mars all the rest." Young 
 Latimer was much surprised at the remark : " I understand 
 it now," said he ; " that will be a heavy bene to these monks 
 when they have to render God an account of their lives." 
 
 Latimer having become more serious, threw himself heart 
 and soul into the practices of superstition, and a very 
 bigoted old cousin undertook to instruct him in them. 
 One day, when one of their relations lay dead, she said to 
 him : " Now we must drive out the devil. Take this holy 
 taper, my child, and pass it over the body, first longways 
 and then athwart, so as always to make the sign of the 
 cross." 
 
 But the scholar performing this exorcism very awkwardly, 
 his aged cousin snatched the candle from his hand, exclaim- 
 ing angrily : " It 's a great pity your father spends so much 
 money on your studies: he will never make anything of 
 you."t 
 
 This prophecy was not fulfilled. He became Fellow of 
 Clare Hall in 1509, and took his master's degree in 1514. 
 His classical studies being ended, he began to study divin- 
 ity. Duns Scotus, Aquinas, and Hugo de Sancto Victore 
 were his favourite authors. The practical side of things, 
 however, engaged him more than the speculative ; and he 
 was more distinguished in Cambridge for his asceticism and 
 enthusiasm than for his learning. He attached importance 
 to the merest trifles. As the missal directs that water 
 should be mingled with the sacramental wine, often while 
 saying mass he would be troubled in his conscience for fear 
 he had not put sufficient water. This remorse never left 
 him a moment's tranquillity during the service. In him, as 
 
 * Eccles. iii. 12. 
 
 f I would that bene had been banished beyond the sea. Latimer's 
 Sermons, p. 153. 
 
 Ibid. p. 499. 
 
 He thought he had never sufficiently mingled his massing wine with 
 water. Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 433.
 
 AN OBSTINATE PAPIST STAFFORD AND THK SOPHISTS. 219 
 
 in many others, attachment to puerile ordinances occupied 
 in his heart the place of faith in the great truths. With 
 him, the cause of the church was the cause of God, and he 
 respected Thomas a Becket at least as much as St Paul. 
 " I was then," said he, " as obstinate a papist as any in Eng- 
 land." * Luther said the same thing of himself. 
 
 The fervent Latimer soon observed that everybody around 
 him was not equally zealous with himself for the ceremonies 
 of the church. He watched with surprise certain young 
 members of the university who, forsaking the doctors of the 
 School, met daily to read and search into the Holy Scrip- 
 tures. People sneered at them in Cambridge : " It is only 
 the sophists" was the cry ; but raillery was jiot enough for 
 Latimer. One day he entered the room where these sophists 
 were assembled, and begged them to cease studying the 
 Bible. All his entreaties were useless. Can we be aston- 
 ished at it ? said Latimer *to himself. Don't we see even the 
 tutors setting an example to these stray sheep ? There is 
 Master Stafford, the most illustrious professor in English 
 jiniversities, devoting his time ad Biblia, like Luther at 
 Wittemberg, and explaining the Scriptures according to the 
 Hebrew and Greek texts ! and the delighted students cele- 
 brate in bad verse the doctor, 
 
 Qui Paulum explicuit rite et evangelium.^ 
 
 That young people should occupy themselves with these 
 new doctrines was conceivable, but that a doctor of divinity 
 should do so what a disgrace! Latimer therefore deter- 
 mined to attack Stafford. He insulted him ; \ he entreated 
 the youth of Cambridge to abandon the professor and his 
 heretical teaching ; he attended the hall in which the doctor 
 taught, made signs of impatience during the lesson, and 
 cavilled at it after leaving the school. He even preached 
 in public against the learned doctor. But it seemed to him 
 that Cambridge and England were struck blind : true, the 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 334. 
 
 f Who has explained to us the true sense of St Paul and of the 
 gtspel. Strype's Mem. i. p. 74. 
 Most spitefully railing against him. Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 437.
 
 220 LATIMER ATTACKS STAFFORD. 
 
 clergy approved of Latimer's proceedings nay, praised 
 them ; and yet they did nothing. To console him, however, 
 he was named cross-bearer to the university, and we have 
 already seen him discharging this duty. 
 
 Latimer desired to show himself worthy of such an honour. 
 He had left the students to attack Stafford ; and he now left 
 Stafford for a more illustrious adversary. But this attack 
 led him to some one that icas stronger than he. At the 
 occasion of receiving the degree of bachelor of divinity he 
 had to deliver a Latin discourse in the presence of the uni- 
 versity; Latimer chose for his subject Philip Mclancthon 
 and his doctrines. Had not this daring heretic presumed to 
 say quite recently that the fathers of the church have altered 
 the sense of Scripture ? Had he not asserted that, like those 
 rocks whose various colours are imparted to the polypus 
 which clings to them,* so the doctors of the church give each 
 their own opinion in the passages they explain ? And, finally, 
 had he not discovered a new touchstone (it is thus he styles 
 the Holy Scripture) by which we must test the sentences 
 even of St Thomas ? , 
 
 Latimer's discourse made a great impression. At last 
 (said his hearers) England, nay Cambridge, will furnish a 
 champion for the church that will confront the Wittemberg 
 doctors, and save the vessel of our Lord. But very different 
 was to be the result. There was among the hearers one 
 man almost hidden through his small stature : it was Bilney. 
 For some time he had been watching Latimer's movements, 
 and his*zeal interested him, though it was a zeal without 
 knowledge. His energy was not great, but he possessed a 
 delicate tact, a skilful discernment of character which enabled 
 him to distinguish error, and to select the fittest method for 
 combating it. Accordingly, a chronicler styles him " a trier 
 of Satan's subtleties, appointed by God to detect the bad 
 money that the enemy was circulating throughout the 
 church."-l- Bilney easily detected Latimer's sophisms, but 
 at the same time loved his person, and conceived the design 
 ,of winning him to tlie gospel. But how to manage it? The 
 
 * Ut polypus cuicunque petrce adhseserit, ejus colorem imitatur. Corp. 
 Ref. i. p. 114. t Foxe, Acts, vii. p. 438.
 
 LATIMER HEARS BILNEY's CONFESSION. 221 
 
 prejudiced Latimer would not even listen to the evangelical 
 Bilney. The latter reflected, prayed, and at last planned a 
 very candid and very strange plot, which led to one of the 
 most astonishing conversions recorded in history. 
 
 He went to the college where Latimer resided. " For the 
 love of God," he said to him, " be pleased to hear iny con- 
 trssion."* The heretic prayed to make confession to the 
 -atholic : what a singular fact ! My discourse against Mel- 
 ancthon has no doubt converted him, said Latimer to him- 
 self. Had not Bilney once been among the number of the 
 most pious zealots ? His pale face, his wasted frame, and 
 his humble look are clear signs that he ought to belong to 
 the ascetics of Catholicism. If he turns back, all will turn 
 back with him, and the reaction will be complete at Cam- 
 bridge. The ardent Latimer eagerly yielded to Bilney's 
 request, and the latter, kneeling before the cross-bearer, 
 related to him with touching simplicity the anguish he had 
 once felt in his soul, the efforts he had made to remove it, 
 their unprofitableness so long as he determined to follow the 
 precepts of the church, and, lastly, the peace he had felt when 
 he believed that Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God that taketh 
 'i the sins of the world. He described to Latimer the 
 spirit of adoption he had received, and the happiness he ex- 
 perienced in being able now to call God his father Lati- 
 mer, who expected to receive a confession, listened without 
 mistrust. His heart was opened, and the voice of the pious 
 Biliu-y penetrated it withput obstacle. From time to time 
 the confessor would have chased away the new thoughts 
 which came crowding into his bosom; but the penitent con- 
 tinued. His language, at once so simple and so lively, 
 entered like a two-edged sword. Bilney was not without 
 assistance in his work. A new, a strange witness, the 
 Holy Ghost,f was speaking in Latimer's soul. He learned 
 from God to know God : he received a new heart. At length 
 grace prevailed : the penitent rose up, but Latimer remained 
 seated, absorbed in thought. The strong cross-bearer con- 
 
 * He came to me afterwards in my study, and desired me for Goa's 
 ike to hear his confession. Latimer's Sermons, p. 334. 
 + He was through the good spirit of God so touched. F'tce, Till. p. 438.
 
 222 LATIMER'S TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 tended in vain against the words of the feeble Bilney. Like 
 Saul on the way to Damascus, he was conquered, and his 
 conversion, like the apostle's, was instantaneous. He stam- 
 mered out a few words ; Bilney drew near him with love, 
 and G-od scattered the darkness which still obscured his 
 mind. He saw Jesus Christ as the only Saviour given to 
 man : he contemplated and adored him. " I learnt more by 
 this confession," he said afterwards, " than by much reading 
 
 and in many years before* I now tasted the word of 
 
 Grod,-|- and forsook the doctors of the school and all their 
 fooleries."| It was not the penitent but the confessor who 
 received absolution. Latimer viewed with horror the obsti- 
 nate war he had waged against God ; he wept bitterly ; but 
 Bilney consoled him. "Brother," said he, "though your 
 sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow." These two 
 young men, then locked in their solitary chamber at Cam- 
 bridge, were one day to mount the scaffold for that divine 
 Master whose spirit was teaching them. But one of them 
 before going to the stake was first to sit on an episcopal 
 throne. 
 
 Latimer was changed. The energy of his character was 
 tempered by a divine unction. Becoming a believer, he had 
 ceased to be superstitious. Instead of persecuting Jesus 
 Christ, he became a zealous seeker after him. Instead of 
 cavilling and railing, he showed himself meek and gentle ; || 
 instead of frequenting company, he sought solitude, study- 
 ing the Scriptures and advancing in true theology. He 
 threw off the old man and put on the new. He waited upon 
 Stafford, begged forgiveness for the insult he had offered 
 him, and then regularly attended his lectures, being sub- 
 jugated more by this doctor's angelic conversation^ than by 
 his learning. But it was Bilney's society Latimer cultivated 
 jnost. They conversed together daily, took frequent walks 
 
 * Latimer's Sermons, p. 334. 
 
 f- From that time forward I began to smell the word of God. Ibid. 
 
 J Ibid. p. 335. 
 
 Whereas before he was an enemy and almost a persecutor of Christ, 
 he was now a zealous seeker after him. Foxe, Acts, vii. p. 338. || Ibid. 
 
 11 A man of a very perfect life and angelic conversation. Becon's 
 Works (Parker Soc.) p. 425.
 
 BILNEY PREACHES GRACE MUSIC AND PRAYER. 223 
 
 together into the country, and occasionally rested at a place, 
 long known as " the heretic's hill."* 
 
 So striking a conversion gave fresh vigour to the evan- 
 gelical movement. Hitherto Bilney and Latimer had been 
 the most zealous champions of the two opposite causes ; the 
 one despised, the other honoured ; the weak man had con- 
 quered the strong. This action of the Spirit of God was 
 not thrown away upon Cambridge. Latimer's conversion, 
 as of old the miracles of the apostles, struck men's minds ; 
 and was it not in truth a miracle ? All the youth of the 
 university ran to hear Bilney preach. He proclaimed 
 " Jesus Christ as He who, having tasted death, has delivered 
 his people from the penalty of sin."-}- While the doctors of 
 the school (even the most pious of them) laid most stress 
 upon marts part in the work of redemption, Bilney on the 
 contrary emphasized the other term, namely, God's part. 
 This doctrine of grace, said his adversaries, annuls the 
 sacraments, and contradicts baptismal regeneration. The 
 selfishness which forms the essence of fallen humanity re- 
 jected the evangelical doctrine, and felt that to accept it was 
 to be lost. " Many listened with the left ear" to use an 
 expression of Bilney's ; " like Malchus, having their right 
 ear cut off;" and they filled the university with their com- 
 plaints. 
 
 But Bilney did not allow himself to be stopped. The 
 idea of eternity had seized on his mind, and perhaps he still 
 retained some feeble relic of the exaggerations of asceticism. 
 He condemned every kind of recreation, even when innocent. 
 Music in the churches seemed to him a mockery of God ; J 
 and when Thurlby, who was afterwards a bishop, and who 
 lived at Cambridge in the room below his, used to begin 
 playing on the recorder, Bilney would fall on his knees and 
 pour out his soul in prayer : to him prayer was the sweetest 
 melody. He prayed that the lively faith of the children of 
 God might in all England be substituted for the vanity and 
 
 * Foxe, viii.'p. 452. 
 
 + Christus quern pro virili doceo denique et satisfactionem. Ep.ad 
 
 Tonstallum episcop. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 633. 
 t Ibid. p. 621.
 
 224 NATURE OF THE MINISTRY. 
 
 pride of the priests. He believed he prayed he waited 
 His waiting was not to be in vain. 
 
 Latimer trod in his footsteps : the transformation of his 
 soul was going on ; and the more fanaticism he had shown 
 for the sacerdotal system, which places salvation in the 
 hands of the priest, the more zeal he now showed for the 
 evangelical system, which placed it in the hands of Christ. 
 He saw that if the churches must needs have ministers, it 
 is not because they require a human mediation, but from 
 the necessity of a regular preaching of the gospel and a 
 steady direction of the flock; and accordingly he would 
 have wished to call the servant of the Lord minister (vvqe'erric 
 or diaKovog rot! Xoyou), and not priest* (/fs6s or sacerdos}. 
 In his view, it was not the imposition of hands by the 
 bishop that gave grace, but grace which authorized the im- 
 position of hands. He considered activity to be ene of the 
 essential features of the gospel ministry. " Would you 
 know," said he, " why the Lord chose fishermen to be his 
 
 apostles? See how they watch day and night at their 
 
 nets to take all such fishes that they can get and come in 
 
 their way So all our bishops, and curates, and vicars 
 
 should be as painful in casting their nets, that is to say, in 
 preaching God's word."f He regarded all confidence in 
 human strength as a remnant of paganism. " Let us not 
 do," he said, " as the haughty Ajax, who said to his father 
 as he went to battle : "Without the help of God I am able to 
 fight, and I will get the victory with mine own strength." J 
 
 The Reformation had gained in Latimer a very different 
 man from Bilney. He had not so much discernment and 
 prudence, perhaps, but he had more energy and eloquence. 
 What Tyndale was to be for England by his writings, Lati- 
 mer was to be by his discourses. The tenderness of his 
 conscience, the warmth of his zeal, and the vivacity of his 
 understanding, were enlisted in the service of Jesus Christ ; 
 and if at times he was carried too far by the liveliness of his 
 wit, it only shows that the reformers were not saints, but 
 
 * Minister is a more fit name for that office. Latimer's Remains, 
 p. 264. f Ibid. p. 24. 
 
 J Latimer's Sermons,' p. 491. Sophocles, Ajax, 783, et seq.
 
 LATIMER'S PREACHING. 225 
 
 sanctified men. " He was one of the first," says an his- 
 torian, " who, in the days of King Henry VIII., set himself 
 to preach the gospel in the truth and simplicity of it." * He 
 preached in Latin ad clerum, and in English ad populum. 
 He boldly placed the law with its curses before his hearers, 
 and then conjured them to flee towards the Saviour of the 
 world.-j- The same zeal which he had employed in saying 
 mass, he now employed in preaching the true sacrifice of 
 Christ. He said one day : " If one man had committed all 
 the sins since Adam, you may be sure he should be punish- 
 ed with the same horror of death, in such a sort as all men 
 
 in the world should have suffered Such was the pain 
 
 Christ endured If our Saviour had committed all the 
 
 sins of the world ; all that I for my part have done, ail that 
 you for your part have done, and that any man else hath 
 done; if he had done all this himself, his agony that he 
 suffered should have been no greater nor -grievouser than it 
 
 was Believe in Jesus Christ, and you shall overcome 
 
 death But, alas!" said he at another time, "the devil, 
 
 by the help of that Italian bishop, his chaplain, has laboured 
 by all means that he might frustrate the death of Christ and 
 the merits of his passion." J 
 
 Thus began in British Christendom the preaching of the 
 Cross. The Reformation was not the substitution of the 
 Catholicism of the first ages for the popery of the middle 
 ages: it was a revival of the preaching of St Paul, and 
 thus it was that on hearing Latimer every one exclaimed 
 with rapture: "Of a Saul, God has made him a very 
 Paul." 
 
 To the inward power of faith the Cambridge evangelists 
 added the outward power of the life. Saul become Paul, 
 the strong, the ardent Latimer, had need of action; and 
 Bilney, the weak and humble Bilney, in delicate health, 
 observing a severe diet, taking ordinarily but one meal 
 
 * Strype's Mem. iii. part i. p. 378. 
 t Flying to him by an evangelical faith. Ibid. 
 J Latimer's Sermons, p. 74. 
 
 This was sa/d by Ralph Morice, afterwards Cranmer's secretary 
 Strypo, Eccl. Mem. iii. part i. p. 368. 
 
 K2
 
 226 WOKKS OF CHARITY. 
 
 a-day, and never sleeping more than four hours, absorbed in 
 prayer and in the study of the word, displayed at that time 
 all the energy of charity. These two friends devoted them- 
 selves not merely to the easy labours of Christian benefi- 
 cence ; but, caring little lor that formal Christianity so often 
 met with among the easy classes, they explored the gloomy 
 cells of the madhouse to bear the sweet and subtle voice of 
 the gospel to the infuriate maniacs. They visited the miser- 
 able lazar-house without the town, in which several poor 
 lepers were dwelling ; they carefully tended them, wrapped 
 them in clean sheets, and wooed them to be converted to 
 Christ.* The gates of the jail at Cambridge were opened to 
 them,-}- and they announced to the poor prisoners that word 
 which giveth liberty. Some were converted by it, and 
 longed for the day of their execution.^: Latimer, afterwards 
 bishop of Worcester, was one of the most beautiful types of 
 the Reformation in England. 
 
 He was opposed by numerous adversaries. In the front 
 rank were the priests, who spared no endeavours to retain 
 souls. " Beware," said Latimer to the new converts, " lest 
 robbers overtake you, and plunge you into the pope's prison 
 of purgatory." After these came the sons and favourites 
 of the aristocracy, worldly and frivolous students, who felt 
 little disposition to listen to the gospel. "By yeomen's 
 sons the faith of Christ is and hath been chiefly maintained 
 in the church," || said Latimer. "Is this realm taught by 
 rich men's sons? No, no; read the chronicles; ye shall 
 find sometime noblemen's sons which have been unpreaching 
 bishops and prelates, but ye shall find none of them learned 
 men." He would have desired a mode of election which 
 placed in the Christian pulpit, not the richest and most 
 fashionable men, but the ablest and most pious. Tliis im- 
 portant reform was reserved for other days. Lastly, the 
 
 * Preaching at the lazar-cots, wrapping them in sheets. Foxe, Acts, 
 iv. p. 620. Lond. 1846. 
 
 t Latimer's Sermons, p. 335 (Park. Soc.) 
 
 J She had such a savour, such a sweetness, and feeling, that she 
 thought it long to the day of execution. Ibid. p. 180. 
 
 Strype's Eccles. Memorials, iii. part i. p. 378. 
 
 Latimer's Sermons, p. 102.
 
 WORLDLINESS AND BRUTALITY DALABER. 227 
 
 evangelists of Cambridge came into collision with the bru- 
 tality of many, to use Latimer's own expression. " What 
 need have we of universities and schools ? " said the 
 students of this class. The Holy Ghost " will give us al- 
 ways what to say." " We must trust in the Holy Ghost,' 1 
 replied Latimer, " but not presume on it. If you will not 
 maintain universities, you shall have a brutality"* In 
 this manner the Reformation restored to Cambridge gravity 
 and knowledge, along with truth and charity. 
 
 Yet Bilney and Latimer often turned their eyes towards 
 Oxford, and wondered how the light would be able to pene- 
 trate there. Wolsey provided for that. A Cambridge 
 master-of-arts, John Clark, a conscientious man, of tender 
 heart, great prudence, and unbounded devotion to his duty, 
 had been enlightened by the word of God. Wolsey, who 
 since 1523 had been seeking everywhere for distinguished 
 scholars to adorn his new college, invited Clark among the 
 first. This doctor, desirous of bearing to Oxford the light 
 which God had given Cambridge, immediately began to 
 deliver a course of divinity lectures, to hold conferences, and 
 to preach in his eloquent manner. He taught every day.-f- 
 Among the graduates and students who followed him was 
 Anthony Dalaber, a young man of simple but profound 
 feeling, who while listening to him had experienced in his 
 heart the regenerating power of the gospel. Overflowing 
 with the happiness which the knowledge of Jesus Christ 
 imparted to him, he went to the cardinal's college, knocked 
 at Clark's door, and said : " Father, allow me never to quit 
 you more!" The teacher, beholding the young disciple's 
 enthusiasm, loved him, but thought it his duty to try him : 
 " Anthony," said he, " you know not what you ask. My 
 teaching is now pleasant to you, but the time will come 
 when God will lay the cross of persecution on you ; you will 
 be dragged before bishops ; your name will be covered with 
 shame in the world, and ah 1 who love you will be heart- 
 broken on account of you Then, my friend, you will 
 
 regret that you ever knew me." 
 
 * Latimer's Sermons, p. 269. 
 
 t Teach or preach, which he did daily. Foxe, Acis, v. p. 426.
 
 228 PERSECUTION SUSPENDED. 
 
 Anthony believing himself rejected, and unable to bear 
 the idea of returning to the barren instructions of the priests, 
 fell on his knees, and weeping bitterly,* exclaimed : " Foi 
 the tender mercy of God, turn me not away ! " Touched by 
 his sorrow, Clark folded him in his arms, kissed him, and 
 with tears in his eyes exclaimed : " The Lord give thee 
 
 what thou askest! Take me for thy father, I take thee 
 
 for my son." From that hour Anthony, all joy, was like 
 Timothy at the feet of Paul. He united a quick under- 
 standing with tender affections. When any of the students 
 had not attended Clark's conferences, the master commis- 
 sioned his disciple to visit them, to inquire into their doubts, 
 and to impart to them his instructions. " This exercise did 
 me much good," said Dalaber, " and I made great progress 
 in the knowledge of Scripture." 
 
 Thus the kingdom of God, which consists not irf forms, 
 but in the power of the Spirit, was set up in Cambridge and 
 Oxford. The alarmed schoolmen, beholding their most pious 
 scholars escaping one after another from their teaching, 
 called the bishops to their aid, and the latter determined to 
 send agents to Cambridge, the focus of the heresy, to appre- 
 hend the leaders. This took place in 1523 or the beginning 
 of 1524. The episcopal officers had arrived, and were pro- 
 ceeding to business. The most timid began to feel alarm, 
 but Latimer was full of courage ; when suddenly the agents 
 of the clergy were forbidden to go on, and this prohibition, 
 strange to say, originated with Wolsey ; " upon what ground 
 I cannot imagine," says Burnet.f Certain events were 
 taking place at Rome of a nature to exercise great influence 
 over the priestly councils, and which may perhaps explain 
 what Burnet could not understand. 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, v. p. 426. 
 
 f History of the Reformation, i. p. 25. Lond. 1841.
 
 WOLSEY'S AMBITION. 229 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Wolsey seeks the Tiara Clement VII. is elected Wolsey's Dissimu- 
 lation Charles offers France to Henry Pace's Mission on this Subject 
 Wolsey reforms the Convents His secret Alliances Treaty between 
 France and England Taxation and Insurrection False Charges 
 against the Reformers Latimer's Defence Tenterden Steeple. 
 
 ADRIAN VI. died on the 14th September 1523, before the 
 end of the second year of his pontificate. Wolsey thought 
 himself pope. At length he would no longer be the favour- 
 ite only, but the arbiter of the kings of the earth ; and his 
 genius, for which England was too narrow, would have 
 Europe and the world for its stage. Already revolving 
 gigantic projects in his mind, the future pope dreamt of the 
 destruction of heresy in the west, and in the east the cessa- 
 tion of the Greek schism, and new crusades to replant the 
 cross on the walls of Constantinople. There is nothing that 
 Wolsey would not have dared undertake when once seated 
 on the throne of Catholicism, and the pontificates of Gregory 
 VII. and Innocent III. would have been eclipsed by that of 
 the Ipswich butcher's son. The cardinal reminded Henry 
 of his promise, and the very next day the king signed a 
 letter addressed to Charles the Fifth. 
 
 Believing himself sure of the emperor, Wolsey turned all 
 his exertions to the side of Rome. " The legate of England," 
 said Henry's ambassadors to the cardinals, " is the very man 
 for the present time. He is the only one thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the interests and wants of Christendom, and 
 strong enough to provide for them. He is all kindness, and 
 will share his dignities and wealth among all the prelates 
 who support him." 
 
 But Julio de' Medici himself aspired to the papacy, and 
 as eighteen cardinal were devoted to him, the election could 
 not take place without his support. " Rather Jthan yield," 
 said he in the conclave, " I would die in this prison." A 
 month passed away, and nothing was done. New intrigues
 
 230 ELECTION OP CLEMENT VII. 
 
 were then resorted to : there were cabals for >V olsey, cabals 
 for Medici. The cardinals were besieged : 
 
 Into their midst, toy many a secret path, 
 Creeps sly intrigue.* 
 
 At length, on the 19th November 1523, the people col- 
 lected under their windows, shouting : " No foreign pope." 
 After forty-nine days' debating, Julio was elected, and accord- 
 ing to his own expression, " bent his head beneath the yoke 
 of apostolic servitude."-]- He took the name of Clement VII. 
 
 Wolsey was exasperated. It was in vain that he pre- 
 sented himself before St Peter's chair at each vacancy : a 
 more active or more fortunate rival always reached it be- 
 fore him. Master of England, and the most influential of 
 European diplomatists, he saw men preferred to him who 
 were his inferiors. This election was an event for the Re- 
 formation. Wolsey as pope would, humanly speaking, have 
 tightened the cords which already bound England so closely 
 to Rome ; but Wolsey, rejected, could hardly fail to throw 
 himself into tortuous paths which would perhaps contribute 
 to the" emancipation of the Church. He became more crafty 
 than ever ; declared to Henry that the new election was 
 quite in conformity with his wishes,^ and hastened to con- 
 gratulate the new pope. He wrote to his agents at Rome : 
 " This election, I assure you, is as much to the king's and 
 my rejoicing, consolation, and gladness, as possibly may be 
 
 devised or imagined Ye shall show unto his holiness 
 
 what joy, comfort, and gladness it is both to the king's high- 
 ness and me to perceive that once in our lives it hath pleased 
 God of his great goodness to provide such a pastor unto his 
 church, as his grace and I have long inwardly desired ; who 
 for his virtue, wisdom, and other high and notable qualities, 
 we have always reputed the most able and worthy person to 
 
 * Un conclave, by C. Delavigne. 
 
 t Colla Bubjecimus jugo apostolicse servitutis. Rymer, Fcedera, vi. 
 2, p. 7. 
 
 J I take God to witness, I am more joyous thereof than if it had for- 
 tuned upon my person. Wolsy to Henry VIII. Burnet, Records, 
 p. cccxxyiii. (lond. 1841.)
 
 WOLSEY'S HATRED OP CHARLES v. 231 
 
 be called to that dignity."* But the pope, divining his com- 
 petitor's vexation, sent the king a golden rose, and a ring 
 to Wolsey. " I am sorry," he said as he drew it from his 
 finger, " that I cannot present it to his eminence in person.'' 
 Clement moreover conferred on him the quality of legate 
 for life an office which had hitherto been temporary only. 
 Thus the popedora and England embraced each other, and 
 nothing appeared more distant than that Christian revolu- 
 tion which was destined very shortly to emancipate Britain 
 from the tutelage of the Vatican. 
 
 Wolsey's disappointed ambition made him suspend the 
 proceedings of the clergy at Cambridge. He had revenge in 
 his heart, and cared not to persecute his fellow-countrymen 
 merely to please his rival ; and besides, like several popes, 
 he had a certain fondness for learning. To send a few Lol- 
 lards to prison was a matter of no difficulty ; but learned 
 
 doctors this required a closer examination. Hence he 
 
 gave Rome a sign of independence. And yet it was not 
 specially against the pope that he began to entertain sinis- 
 ter designs : Clement had been more fortunate than him- 
 self ; but that was no reason why he should be angry with 
 
 him Charles V. was the offender, and Wolsey swore a 
 
 deadly hatred against him. Resolved to strike, he sought 
 only the place where he could inflict the severest blow. To 
 obtain his end, he resolved to dissemble his passion, and to 
 distil drop by drop into Henry's mind that mortal hatred 
 against Charles, which gave fresh energy to his activity. 
 
 Charles discovered the indignation that lay hid under 
 Wolsey's apparent mildness, and wishing to retain Henry's 
 alliance, he made more pressing advances to the king. Hav- 
 ing deprived the minister of a tiara, he resolved to offer the 
 king a crown: this \vas, indeed, a noble compensation! 
 " You are king of France," the emperor said, " and I under- 
 take to win your kingdom for you.f Only send an ambas- 
 sador to Italy to negotiate the matter." Wolsey, who could 
 hardly contain his vexation, was forced to comply, in appear- 
 
 * Wolsey to Secretary Pace. Gait's Wolsey, p. 381, Appendix. (Lend 
 1846.) 
 t Ellis' Letters, Second Series, p. 326, 327.
 
 232 PACE'S EMBASSY. 
 
 ance at least, with the emperor's views. The king, indeed, 
 seemed to think of nothing but his arrival at St Germain's, 
 and commissioned Pace to visit Italy for this important 
 business. Wolsey hoped that he would be unable to exe- 
 cute his commission ; it was impossible to cross the Alps, 
 for the French troops blockaded every passage. But Pace, 
 who was one of those adventurous characters whom nothing 
 can stop, spurred on by the thought that the king himself 
 had sent him, determined to cross the Col di Tcnda. On 
 the 27th July, he entered the mountains, traversed precipi- 
 tous passes, sometimes climbing them on all-fours,* and 
 often falling during the descent. In some places he could 
 ride on horseback ; " but in the most part thereof I durst 
 not either turn my horse traverse (he wrote to the king) for 
 all the worldly riches, nor in manner look on my left hand, 
 for the pronite and deepness to the valley." After this pas- 
 sage, which lasted six days, Pace arrived in Italy worn out 
 by fatigue. " If the king of England will enter France im- 
 mediately byway of Normandy," said the constable of Bour- 
 bon to him, " I will give him leave to pluck out both my 
 eyes-J- if he is not master of Paris before All-Saints; and 
 when Paris is taken, he will be master of the whole king- 
 dom." But Wolsey, to whom these remarks were trans- 
 mitted by the ambassador, slighted them, delayed furnishing 
 the subsidies, and required certain conditions which were 
 calculated to thwart the project. Pace, who was ardent and 
 ever imprudent, but plain and straightforward, forgot him- 
 self, and in a moment of vexation wrote to Wolsey : " To 
 speak frankly, if you do not attend to these things, I shall 
 impute to your grace the loss of the crown of France." 
 These words ruined Henry's envoy in the cardinal's mind. 
 Was this man, who owed everything to him, trying to sup- 
 plant him? Pace in vain assured Wolsey that he should 
 
 not take seriously what he had said ; but the bolt had hit. 
 Pace was associated with Charles in the cruel enmity of the 
 minister, and he was one day to feel its terrible effects. It 
 
 * It made us creep of all-four. Pace to the king, Strype, vol. i. part 
 ii. p. 27. 
 t Cotton MSS., Vitellius, B. 6. p. 87.
 
 WOLSEY REFORMS THE MONASTERIES. 23b 
 
 was not long before Wolsey was able to satisfy himself that 
 the service Charles had desired to render the king of Eng- 
 land was beyond the emperor's strength. 
 
 No sooner at ease on one side, than Wolsey found himself 
 attacked on another. This man, the most powerful among 
 kings' favourites, felt at this time the first breath of disfavour 
 blow over him. On the pontifical throne, he would no 
 doubt have attempted a reform after the manner of Sixtus 
 V. ; and wishing to rehearse on a smaller stage, and regen- 
 erate after his own fashion the catholic church in England, 
 he submitted the monasteries to a strict inquisition, patron- 
 ized the instruction of youth, and was the first to set a great 
 example, by suppressing certain religious houses, whose 
 revenues he applied to his college in Oxford. Thomas 
 Cromwell, his solicitor, displayed much skill and industry in 
 this business,* and thus, under the orders of a cardinal of the 
 Roman church, made his first campaign in a war of which 
 he was in later days to hold the chief command. Wolsey 
 and Cromwell, by their reforms, drew down the hatred of 
 certain monks, priests, and noblemen, always the very humble 
 servants of the clerical party. The latter accused the cardi- 
 nal of not having estimated the monasteries at their just 
 value, and of having, in certain cases, encroached on the 
 royal jurisdiction. Henry, whom the loss of the crown of 
 France had put in a bad humour, resolved, for the first time, 
 not to spare his minister : " There are loud murmurs 
 throughout this kingdom," he said to him ; " it is asserted 
 that your new college at Oxford is only a convenient cloak 
 to hide your malversations." -j- "God forbid," replied the 
 cardinal, " that this virtuous foundation at Oxford, under- 
 taken for the good of my poor soul, should be raised ex rapi- 
 nis ! But, above all, God forbid that I should ever en- 
 croach upon your royal authority." He then cunningly in- 
 sinuated, that by his will he left all his property to the king. 
 Henry was satisfied : he had a share in the business. 
 
 Events of very different importance drew the king's at- 
 tention to another quarter. The two armies, of the empire 
 
 * Very forward and industrious. Foxe, Acts, T. p. 366. 
 f Collier's Eocles. Hist. x. p. 20. 
 Tfc. T. 11
 
 234 ALLIANCE BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND. 
 
 and of France, were in presence before Pavia. Wolsey, who 
 openly gave his right hand to Charles V., and secretly his 
 left to Francis, repeated to his master: "If the emperor 
 gains the victory, are you not his ally? and if Francis, am 
 I not in secret communication with him ?"* " Thus," added 
 the cardinal, " whatever happens, your Highness will have 
 great cause to give thanks to Almighty God." 
 
 On the 24th of February 1525, the battle of Pavia was 
 fought, and the imperialists found in the French king's tent 
 several of Wolsey's letters, and in his military chest and in 
 the pockets of his soldiers the cardinal's corrupting gold. 
 This alliance had been contrived by Giovanni Gioacchino, a 
 Genoese master of the household to Louisa, regent of France, 
 who passed for a merchant of Bologna, and lived in conceal- 
 ment at Blackfriars. Charles now saw what he had to trust 
 to ; but the news of the battle of Pavia had scarcely reached 
 England, when, faithful in perfidy, Wolsey gave utterance to 
 a feigned pleasure. The people rejoiced also, but they were 
 in earnest. Bonfires were lighted in the streets of London ; 
 the fountains ran wine, and the lord-mayor, attended by the 
 aldermen, passed through the city on horseback to the sound 
 of the trumpet. 
 
 The cardinal's joy was not altogether false. He would 
 have been pleased at his enemy's defeat ; but his victory 
 was perhaps still more useful to him. 
 
 He said to Henry : " The emperor is a liar, observing 
 neither faith nor promise : the Archduchess Margaret is a 
 woman of evil life ; -j- Don Ferdinand is a child, and Bourbon 
 a traitor. Sire, you have other things to do with your 
 money than to squander it on these four individuals. 
 Charles is aiming at universal monarchy ; Pavia is the first 
 step of this throne, and if England does not oppose him, he 
 will attain it." Joachim having come privily to London, 
 Wolsey prevailed upon Hemy to conclude between Eng- 
 land and France an " indissoluble peace by land and sea." \ 
 
 * By such communications as he set forth with France apart. State 
 Papers, i. p. 158. 
 
 t Milady Margaret was a ribaud. Cotton MSS. Vosp. C. 3, p. 55. 
 
 Sincera fidelis, firma et indissolubilis pax. Rymer, Fcedera, p 
 82, 33.
 
 KEW TAXES AND INSURRECTION. 235 
 
 At last then he was in a position to prove to Charles that 
 it is a dangerous thing to oppose the ambition of a priest. 
 
 This was not the only advantage Wolsey derived from 
 the triumph of his enemy. The citizens of London imagined 
 that the king of England would be in a few weeks in Paris ; 
 Wolsey, rancorous and grasping, determined to make them 
 pay dearly for their enthusiasm. " You desire to conquer 
 France," said he ; " you are right. Give me then for that 
 purpose the sixth part of your property ; that is a trifle to 
 gratify so noble an inclination." England did not think so ; 
 this illegal demand aroused universal complaint. " We are 
 English and not French, freemen and not slaves,"* was the 
 universal cry. Henry might tyrannize over his court, but 
 not lay hands on his subjects' property. 
 
 The eastern counties rose in insurrection : four thousand 
 men were under arms in a moment; and Henry was 
 guarded in his own palace by only a few servants. It was 
 necessary to break down the bridges to stop the insurgents.-}- 
 Thc courtiers complained to the king; the king threw the 
 blame on the cardinal ; the cardinal laid it on the clergy, 
 who had encouraged him to impose this tax by quoting to 
 him the example of Joseph demanding of the Egyptians the 
 fifth part of their goods ; and the clergy in their turn ascribed 
 the insurrection to the gospellers, who (said they) were stir- 
 ring up a peasant war in England, as they had done in Ger- 
 many. Reformation produces revolution : this is the favourite 
 text of the followers of the pope. Violent hands must be laid 
 upon the heretics. Non pluit Dens, due ad christianos.$ 
 
 The charge of the priests was absurd ; but the people are 
 blind whenever the gospel is concerned, and occasionally the 
 governors are blind also. Serious reasoning was not neces- 
 sary to confute this invention. " Here, by the way, I will 
 tell you a merry toy," said Latimer one day in the pulpit. 
 " Master More was once sent in commission into Kent to 
 
 * Hall's Chronicle, p. 69G. If men should give their goods by a com- 
 mission, then were it worse than the taxes of France ; and so England 
 would be bond and not free. + Ibid. 
 
 J "God sends no rain lead us against the Christians." Aery 
 
 Ascribed by Augustine to the pagans of the first ages.
 
 236 THE EV ANGELICAL CHRISTIANS AND TENTERDEN STEEPLE. 
 
 help to try out, if it might be, what was the cause of Good- 
 win Sands and the shelf that stopped up Sandwich haven. 
 He calleth the country afore him, such as were thought to 
 be men of experience, and among others came in an old 
 man with a white head, and one that was thought to be 
 little less than one hundred years old. So Master More 
 called the old aged man unto him, and said : Father, tell me, 
 if you can, what is the cause of this great arising of the 
 sands and shelves hereabout, that stop up Sandwich haven ? 
 Forsooth, Sir, (quoth he) I am an old man, for I am well- 
 nigh an hundred, and I think that Tenterden steeple is the 
 cause of the Goodwin Sands. For I am an old man, Sir, 
 and I may remember the building of Tenterden steeple, and 
 before that steeple was in building, there was no manner of 
 flats or sands." After relating this anecdote, Latimer slyly 
 added: "Even so, to my purpose, is preaching of God's 
 word the cause of rebellion, as Tenterden steeple was the 
 cause Sandwich haven is decayed."* 
 
 There was no persecution : there was something else to 
 be done. Wolsey, feeling certain that Charles had ob- 
 structed his accession to the popedom, thought only in what 
 manner he might take his revenge. But during this time 
 Tyndale also was pursuing his aim; and the year 1525, 
 memorable for the battle of Pavia, was destined to be no 
 less so in the British isles, by a still more important victory. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Tyndale at Hamburg First two Gospels Embarrassment Tyndala 
 at Wittemberg At Cologne The New Testament at Press Sudden 
 Interruption Cochhcus at Cologne Rupert's Manuscripts Discovery 
 of Cochlams His Inquiries His Alarm Rincke and the Senate's 
 Prohibition Consternation and Decision of Tyndale Cochlaeus writes 
 to England Tyndale ascends the Rhine Prints two Editions at 
 Worms Tyndale's Prayer. 
 
 THE ship which carried Tyndale and his MSS. cast anchor 
 
 at Hamburg, where, since the year 1521, the gospel had 
 
 * Latimer's Serans, vol. i. p. 251.
 
 TYNDALE AT HAMBURCJ. 237 
 
 counted numerous friends. Encouraged by the presence of 
 his brethren, the Oxford fellow had taken a quiet lodging in 
 one of the narrow winding streets of that old city, and had 
 immediately resumed his task. A secretary, whom he terms 
 his " faithful companion,"* aided him in collating texts ; but 
 it was not long before this brother, whose name is unknown 
 to us, thinking himself called to preach Christ in places 
 where He had as yet never been proclaimed, left Tyndale. 
 A former friar-observant of the Franciscan order at Green- 
 wich, having abandoned the cloister, and being at this time 
 without resources, offered his services to the Hellenist. 
 William Roye was one of those men (and they are always 
 pretty numerous) whom impatience of the yoke alienates 
 from Rome without their being attracted by the Spirit of 
 God to Christ. Acute, insinuating, crafty, and yet of pleas- 
 ing manners, he charmed all those who had mere casual 
 relations with him. Tyndale, banished to the distant shores 
 of the Elbe, surrounded by strange customs, and hearing 
 only a foreign tongue, often thought of England, and was 
 impatient that his country should enjoy the result of his 
 labours : he accepted Roye's aid. The Gospels of Matthew 
 and Mark, translated and printed at Hamburg, became, it 
 would seem, the first fruits to England of his great task. 
 
 But Tyndale was soon overwhelmed by annoyances. 
 Roye, who was pretty manageable while he had no money, 
 had become intractable now that his purse was less empty.-J- 
 What was to be done ? The reformer having spent the ten 
 pounds he had brought from England, could not satisfy the 
 demands of his assistant, pay his own debts, and remove to 
 another city. He became still more sparing and economical. 
 The Wartburg, in which Luther had translated the New 
 Testament, was a palace in comparison with the lodging in 
 which the reformer of wealthy England endured hunger and 
 cold, while toiling day and night to give the gospel to the 
 English Christians. 
 
 About the end of 1524, Tyndale sent the two Gospels to 
 Monmouth ; and a merchant named John Collenbeke, hav- 
 
 * Tyndale'lBDoctr. Treatises, p. 37. 
 f Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. 49.
 
 238 DID TYNDALE MEET LUTHER? 
 
 ing brought him the ten pounds he had left in the hands of 
 his old patron, lie prepared to depart immediately. 
 
 Where should he go ? Not to England ; he must com- 
 plete his task before all things. Could he be in Luther's 
 neighbourhood and not desire to see him ? He needed not 
 the Saxon reformer either to find the truth, which he had 
 already known at Oxford, or to undertake the translation of 
 the Scriptures, which he had already begun in the vale of 
 the Severn. But did not all evangelical foreigners flock to 
 Wittemberg ? To remove all doubt as to the interview of 
 the reformers, it would be desirable perhaps to find some 
 trace at Wittemberg,* either in the university registers or in 
 the writings of the Saxon reformers. Yet several contem- 
 poraneous testimonies seem to give a sufficient degree of 
 probability to this conference. Foxe tells us : " He had an 
 interview with Luther and other learned men of that coun- 
 try." { This must have been in the spring of 1525. 
 
 Tyndale, desirous. of drawing nearer to his native country, 
 tarncd his eyes towards the Rhine. There were at Cologne 
 some celebrated printers well known in England, and among 
 others Quentel and the Byrckmans. Francis Byrckman had 
 warehouses in St Paul's churchyard in London, a circum- 
 stance that might facilitate the introduction and sale of the 
 Testament printed on the banks of the Rhine. This provi- 
 dential circumstance decided Tyndale in favour of Cologne, 
 
 * I requested a German divine to investigate this matter, but his re- 
 searches were unsuccessful. 
 
 f Mr Anderson, in his excellent work (Annals of the English Bible, 
 rol. i. p. 47) disputes the interview between these two reformers, but his 
 arguments do not convince me. We can understand how Luther, at tliat 
 time busily engaged in his dispute ^:th Carlstadt, does not mention Tyn- 
 dale's visit in his letters. But, besides Foxe, there are other conternpo- 
 ranous authorities in favour of this fact. Cochlaeus, a German well 
 informed on all the movements of the reformers, and whom we shall 
 presently see on Tyndale's traces, says of him and Roye : " Duo Angli 
 apostate, gui aliquamdiufuerant Vuitenbergai" (p. 123). And Sir Thomas 
 More, having said that Tyndale had gone to see Luther, Tyndale was 
 content to reply : " When Mr More saith Tyndale was confederate with 
 Luther, that is not truth. ' Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue, p. 
 147 (Park. Soc.) He denied the confederation, but not the visit. If Tyo- 
 dale had not seen Luther, he would have beaii more explicit, and would 
 probably have said that he had never even met him.
 
 TYNDALE AT COLOGNE. 239 
 
 and thither he repaired with Roye and his MSS. Arrived 
 in the gloomy streets of the city of Agrippina, he contem- 
 plated its innumerable churches, and above all its ancient 
 cathedral re-echoing to the voices of its canons, and was 
 oppressed with sorrow as he beheld the priests and monks 
 and mendicants and pilgrims who, from all parts of Europe, 
 poured in to adore the pretended relics of the three wise men 
 and of the eleven thousand virgins. And then Tyndale asked 
 himself whether it was really in this superstitious city that 
 the New Testament was to be printed in English. This was 
 not all. The reform movement then at work in Germany 
 had broken out at Cologne during the feast of Whitsuntide, 
 and the archbishop had just forbidden all evangelical wor- 
 ship. Yet Tyndale persevered, and submitting to the most 
 minute precautions, not to compromise his work, he took an 
 obscure lodging where he kept himself closely hidden. 
 
 Soon however, trusting in God, he called on the printer, 
 presented his manuscripts to him, ordered six thousand 
 copies, and then, upon reflection, sank down to three thousand 
 for fear of a seizure.* The printing went on ; one sheet fol- 
 lowed another ; gradually the gospel unfolded its mysteries 
 in the English tongue, and Tyndale could not contain him- 
 self for very joy.-J- He saw in his mind's eye the triumph? 
 of the Scriptures over all the kingdom, and exclaimed with 
 transport : " Whether the king wills it or not, erelong all the 
 people of England, enlightened by the New Testament, will 
 obey the gospel." \ 
 
 But on a sudden that sun whose earliest beams he had 
 hailed with songs of joy, was hidden by thick clouds. One 
 day, just as the tenth sheet had been thrown off, the printei 
 hastened to Tyndale, and informed him that the senate ol 
 Cologne forbade him to continue the work. Everything was 
 discovered then. No doubt Henry VIII., who has burnt 
 Luther's books, wishes to burn the New Testament also, to 
 destroy Tyndale's manuscripts, and deliver him up to death. 
 Who had betrayed him ? He was lost in unavailing corijec- 
 
 * Sex millia sub przelum dari. Cochlaeus, p. 123. 
 
 f Tanta ex ea spe lactitia Lutheranos invasit. Ibid. p. 124. 
 
 J Cunctos Angliao populos, volente nolente rege. Ibid. p. 123.
 
 240 COCHL2EUS AT COLOGNE. 
 
 tures, and one thing only appeared certain : alas I his vessel, 
 which was moving onwards in full sail, had struck upon a 
 reef! The following is the explanation of this unexpected 
 incident. 
 
 A man whom we have often met with in the course of 
 this history,* one of the most violent enemies of the Refor- 
 mation we mean Cochlseus had arrived in Cologne. The 
 wave of popular agitation which iad stirred this city during 
 the Whitsuntide holidays, had previously swept over Frank- 
 fort during the festival of Easter ; and the dean of Notre- 
 Dame, taking advantage of a moment when the gates of the 
 city were open, had escaped a few minutes before the 
 burghers entered his house to arrest him. On arriving at 
 Cologne, where he hoped to live unknown under the shadow 
 of the powerful elector, he had gone to lodge with George 
 Lauer, a canon in the church of the Apostles. 
 
 By a singular destiny the two most opposite men, Tyn- 
 dale and Cochlseus, were in hiding in the same city ; they 
 could not long remain there without coming into collision. 
 
 On the right bank of the Rhine, and opposite Cologne, 
 stood the monastery of Deutz, one of whose abbots, Rupert, 
 who lived in the twelfth century, had said : " To be ignorant 
 of Scripture is to be ignorant of Jesus Christ. This is the 
 scripture of nations ! -j- This book of God, which is not 
 pompous in words and poor in meaning like Plato, ought to 
 be set before every people, and to proclaim aloud to the 
 whole world the salvation of all." One day, when Cochlseus 
 and his host were talking of Rupert, the canon informed the 
 dean that the heretic Osiander of Nuremberg was in treaty 
 with the abbot of Deutz about publishing the writings of 
 this ancient doctor. Cochlseus guessed that Osiander was 
 desirous of bringing forward the contemporary of St Ber- 
 nard as a witness in defence of the Reformation. Hastening 
 to the monastery he alarmed the abbot : " Intrust to me the 
 manuscripts of your celebrated predecessor," he said ; " I 
 will undertake to print them and prove that he was one of 
 us." The monks placed them in his hands, stipulating for 
 
 * Book ix. chapter zii. etc. 
 
 f Scripture populorum. Opp. i. p. 641.
 
 COCHL-fiDa'3 DISCOVERY. 241 
 
 an early publication, from which they expected no little re- 
 nown.* Cochlaeus immediately went to Peter Quentel and 
 Arnold Byrckman to make the necessary arrangements. 
 They were Tyndale's printers. 
 
 There Cochlaeus made a more important discovery thau 
 that of Rupert's manuscripts. Byrckman and Quentel hav- 
 ing invited him one day to meet several of their colleagues 
 at dinner, a printer, somewhat elevated by wine, declared in 
 his cups (to borrow the words of Cochlaeus) : f " Whether 
 the king and the cardinal of York wish it or not, all Eng- 
 land will soon be Lutheran." J Cochlaeus listened and grew 
 alarmed ; he made inquiry, and was informed that two Eng- 
 lishmen, learned men and skilled in the languages, were 
 concealed at Cologne.f But all his efforts to discover more 
 proved unavailing. 
 
 There was no more repose for the dean of Frankfort ; his 
 imagination fermented, his mind became alarmed. " What," 
 said he, " shall England, that faithful servant of the pope- 
 dom, be perverted like Germany ? Shall the English, the 
 most religious people of Christendom,!) and whose king once 
 ennobled himself by writing against Luther, shall they be 
 
 invaded by heresy? Shall the mighty cardinal-legate of 
 
 York be compelled to flee from his palace, as I was from 
 Frankfort?" Cochlaeus continued his search; he paid fre- 
 quent visits to the printers, spoke to them in a friendly 
 tone, flattered them, invited them to visit him at the canon's ; 
 but as yet he dared not hazard the important question ; it 
 was sufficient for the moment to have won the good graces 
 of the depositaries of the secret. He soon took a new step ; 
 he was careful not to question them before one another; 
 but he procured a private interview with one of them,^[ and 
 supplied him plentifully with Rhine wine : he himself is 
 
 * Cum monachi quieturi non erant, nisi edecentur open ills. Cochl. 
 p. 124. 
 
 t Audi vit eos aliquando inter pocula fiducialiter jactitare. Ibid. p. 125. 
 
 J Velint nolint rex et cardinalis Angliae, totam Angliam brevi fora 
 Lutheranam. Ibid. 
 
 Duos ibi latitare Anglos eruditos, linguarumquo peritos. Ibid. 
 
 || In gente ilia religiosissima vereque Christiana. Ibid. p. 131. 
 
 *JT Unua eorum in secretion colloqnio revelavit illi arcanum. Ibid. 
 
 11* L
 
 242 THE SECRET BETRAYED. 
 
 our informant.* Artful questions embarrassed the unwary 
 printer, and at last the secret was disclosed. " The New 
 Testament," Cochlseus learnt, " is translated into English ; 
 three thousand copies are in the press ; fourscore pages in 
 quarto are ready ; the expense is fully supplied by English 
 merchants, who are secretly to convey the work when 
 printed, and to disperse it widely through all England, be- 
 fore the king or the cardinal can discover or prohibit it.-j- 
 Thus will Britain be converted to the opinions of Lu- 
 ther." t 
 
 The surprise of Cochlaeus equalled his alarm ; he dis- 
 sembled ; he wished to learn, however, where the two Eng- 
 lishmen lay concealed ; but all his exertions proved ineffec- 
 tual, and he returned to his lodgings filled with emotion. 
 The danger was very great. A stranger and an exile, what 
 can he do to oppose this impious undertaking? Where 
 shall he find a friend to England, prepared to show hif zeal 
 in warding off the threatened blow? He was bewildered. 
 
 A flash of light suddenly dispelled the darkness. A per- 
 son of some consequence at Cologne, Herman Rincke, a 
 patrician and imperial councillor, had been sent on import- 
 ant business by the Emperor Maximilian to Henry VII., 
 and from that time he had always shown a great attach- 
 ment to England. Cochlseus determined to reveal the fatal 
 secret to him ; but, being still alarmed by the scenes at 
 Frankfort, he was afraid to conspire openly against the Re- 
 formation. He had left an aged mother and a little niece at 
 home, and was unwilling to do anything which might 
 compromise them. He therefore crept stealthily towards 
 Rincke's house (as he tells us himself),|| slipped in secretly, 
 and unfolded the whole matter to him. Rincke could not 
 believe that the New Testament in English was printing at 
 Cologne; however, he sent a confidential person to make 
 
 * Rem omnem ut acceperat vini beneficio. Cochlseus, p. 13.. 
 f- Opus excussum clam invecturi per totam Angliam latenter diaper- 
 gerc vellent. Ibid, 
 
 J Ad Lutheri partes trahenda est Anglia. Ibid. 
 Metu et admiratione affectus. Ibid. 
 || Abiit igitur clam ad H. Rineke. Ibid.
 
 TYNDALE RESCUES HIS WORK. 243 
 
 inquiries, who reported to him that Cochlseus's information 
 was correct, and that he had found in the printing office a 
 large supply of paper intended for the edition.* The patri- 
 cian immediately proceeded to the senate, and spoke of 
 Wolsey, of Henry VIIL, and of the preservation of the 
 Romish church in England ; and that body which, under the 
 influence of the archbishop, had long since forgotten the 
 rights of liberty, forbade the printer to continue the work. 
 Thus, then, there were to be no New Testaments for Eng- 
 land ! A practised hand had warded off the blow aimed at 
 Roman-catholicism ; Tyndale would perhaps be thrown into 
 prison, and Cochlaeus enjoy a complete triumph. 
 
 Tyndale was at first confounded. Were so many years 
 of toil lost, then, for ever? His trial seemed beyond his 
 strength.-}- " They are ravening wolves," he exclaimed, 
 " they preach to others, Steal not, and yet they have robbed 
 the sftul of man of the bread of life, and fed her with the 
 shales [shells ?] and cods of the hope in their merits and 
 confidencein their good works." J Yet Tyndale did not long 
 remain cast down; for his faith was of that kind which 
 would remove mountains. Is it not the word of God that 
 is imperilled ? If he does not abandon himself, God will not 
 abandon him. He must anticipate the senate of Cologne. 
 Daring and prompt in all his movements, Tyndale bade 
 Roye follow him, hastened to the printing office, collected 
 (he sheets, jumped into a boat, and rapidly ascended the 
 river, carrying with him the hope of England. 
 
 When Cochlaeus and Rincke, accompanied by the officers 
 of the senate, reached the printing office, they were sur- 
 prised beyond measure. The apostate had secured the 
 
 abominable papers! Their enemy had escaped like a 
 
 bird from the net of the fowler. Where was he to be found 
 now ? He would no doubt go and place himself under the 
 
 * Ingentem papyri copiam ibi existere. Cochlaeus, p. 131. 
 
 f Necessity and combrance (God is record) above strength. Tynd. 
 Doctr. Tr. p. 390. 
 
 J Tyndale, Expositions, p. 123 (Parker Society). 
 
 Arreptis sccnm quaternionibus impressis aufugerunt navigio per 
 Rhenum aeoendentea. Ooohl. p. 126.
 
 244 COCHL-SIUS WRITES TO HENRT. 
 
 protection of some Lutheran prince, whither Cochlscus would 
 take good care not to pursue him ; but there was one re- 
 source left. These English books can do no harm in Ger- 
 many ; they must be prevented reaching London. He wrote 
 to Henry VIII., to Wolsey, and to the bishop of Rochester. 
 " Two Englishmen," said he to the king, " like the two 
 eunuchs who desired to lay hands on Ahasuerus, are plot- 
 ting wickedly against the peace of your kingdom ; but I, 
 like the faithful Mordecai,* will lay open their designs to 
 you. They wish to send the New Testament in English to 
 your people. Give orders at every seaport to prevent the 
 introduction of this most baneful merchandise." f Such was 
 the name given by this zealous follower of the pope to the 
 word of God. An unexpected ally soon restored peace to 
 the soul of Cochlseus. The celebrated Dr Eck, a champion 
 of popery far more formidable than he was, had arrived at 
 Cologne on his way to London, and he undertook to arouse 
 the anger of the bishops and of the king. \ The eyes of the 
 greatest opponents of the Reformation seemed now to be 
 fixed on England. Eck, who boasted of having gained the 
 most signal triumphs over Luther, would easily get the bet- 
 ter of the humble tutor and his New Testament. 
 
 During this time Tyndale, guarding his precious bales, 
 ascended the rapid river as quickly as he could. He passed be- 
 fore the antique cities and the smiling villages scattered along 
 the banks of the Rhine amidst scenes of picturesque beauty. 
 The mountains, glens, and rocks, the dark forests, the ruined 
 fortresses, the gothic churches, the boats that passed and 
 repassed each other, the birds of prey that soared over his 
 head, as if they bore a mission from Cochlaeus nothing 
 could turn his eyes from the treasure he was carrying with 
 him. At last, after a voyage of five or six days, he reached 
 Worms, where Luther, four years before, had exclaimed : 
 "Here I stand, I can do no other; may God help me!" 
 
 * He was indebted to me no less than Ahasuerus was indebted to Mor- 
 decai. Annals of the Bible, i. p. 61. 
 
 t Ut quam diligentissime prsecaverint in omnibus Angliae portubus, 
 ne merx ilia perniciosissima inveheretur. Cochlaeus, p. 126. 
 
 J Ad quern Doctor Eckius venit, dum in Angliam teoderet. Ibid. p. 109. 
 
 See above, book rii chapter viii.
 
 TTKDALE ABRFVES AT WORMS. 245 
 
 These words of the German reformer, so well known to 
 Tyndale, were the star that had guided him to Worms. 
 He knew that the gospel was preached in that ancient city. 
 " The citizens are subject to fits of Lutheranism," said Coch- 
 laeus.* Tyndale arrived there, not as Luther did, sur- 
 rounded by an immense crowd, but unknown, and imagin- 
 ing himself pursued by the myrmidons of Charles and of 
 Henry. As he landed from the boat he cast an uneasy 
 glance around him, and laid down his precious burden on 
 the bank of the river. 
 
 He had had time to reflect on the dangers which threatened 
 his work. As his enemies would have marked the edition, 
 some few sheets of it having fallen into their hands, he 
 took steps to mislead the inquisitors, and began a new edi- 
 tion, striking out the prologue and the notes, and substitut- 
 ing the more portable octavo form for the original quarto. 
 Peter Schoeffer, the grandson of Fust, one of the inventors of 
 printing, lent his presses for this important work. The two 
 editions were quietly completed about the end of the year 
 
 1525. f 
 
 Thus were the wicked deceived: they would have de- 
 prived the English people of the oracles of God, and two 
 editions were now ready to enter England. " Give dili- 
 gence," said Tyndale to his fellow-countrymen, as he sent 
 from Worms the Testament he had just translated, " unto 
 the words of eternal life, by the which, if we repent and 
 believe them, we are born anew, created afresh, and enjoy 
 the fruits of the blood of Christ." J In the beginning of 
 
 1526, these books crossed the sea by way of Antwerp or 
 Rotterdam. Tyndale was happy; but he knew that the 
 unction of the Holy Ghost alone could enable the people of 
 England to understand these sacred pages ; and accord- 
 ingly he followed them night and day with his prayers. 
 
 * Ascendentes Wormatiam nbi plebs pleno furore lutherisabat. Coch- 
 Ireus, p. 126. 
 
 + A copy of the octavo edition exists in the Museum of the Baptist Col- 
 lege at Bristol. If it is compared with the quarto edition, a sensible pro- 
 gress will be found in the orthography. Thus we read in the latter ; 
 prophettes, synners, moostt, tekynge ; in the octavo we find, prophets, sin- 
 ners, west, teking. Annals of the Bible, i. p. 70. Epiat. in init.
 
 246 TYNDALE'S PRAYER. 
 
 " The scribes and pharisees," said he, " had thrust up the 
 sword of the word of God in a scabbard or sheath of glosses, 
 and therein had knit it fast, so that it could neither stick nor 
 cut.* Now, God, draw this sharp sword from the scab- 
 bard. Strike, wound, cut asunder, the soul and the flesh, so 
 that man being divided in two, and set at variance with 
 himself, may be in peace with thee to aU eternity!" 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Worms and Cambridge St Paul resuscitated Latimer's Preaching 
 Never Man spake like this Man Joy and Vexation at Cambridge 
 Sermon by Prior Buckingham Irony Latimer's Reply to Bucking- 
 ham The Students threatened Latimer preaches before the Bishop 
 He is forbidden to preach The most zealous of Bishops Barnes the 
 Restorer of Letters Bilney undertakes to convert him Barnes offers 
 his Pulpit to Latimer Fryth's Thirst for God Christmas Eve, 1525 
 Storm against Barnes Ferment in the Colleges Germany at Cam- 
 bridgeMeetings at Oxford General Expectation. 
 
 WHILE these works were accomplishing at Cologne and 
 Worms, others were going on at Cambridge and Oxford. 
 On the banks of the Rhine they were preparing the seed ; 
 in England they were drawing the furrows to receive it. 
 The gospel produced a great agitation at Cambridge. Bil- 
 ney, whom we may call the father of the English Reforma- 
 tion, since, being the first converted by the New Testament, 
 he had brought to the knowledge of God the energetic Lati- 
 mer, and so many other witnesses of the truth, Bilney did 
 not at that time put himself forward, like many of those who 
 had listened to him : his vocation was prayer. Timid before 
 men, he was full of boldness before God, and day and night 
 called upon him for souls. But while he was kneeling in his 
 closet, others were at work in the world. Among these 
 
 * Tyndale's Works, ii. p 378 ; or Expositions (Matthew), p. 131 
 (Park. Soc.)
 
 WORMS AND CAMBRIDGE ST PAUL REVIVED. 247 
 
 Stafford was particularly remarkable. " Paul is risen from 
 the dead," said many as they heard him. And in fact Staf- 
 ford explained with so much life the true meaning of the 
 words of the apostle and of the four evangelists, * that these 
 holy men, whose faces had been so long hidden under the 
 dense traditions of the schools, -{ reappeared before the youth 
 of the university such as the apostolic times had beheld 
 them. But it was not only their persons (for that would 
 have been a trifling matter), it was their doctrine which 
 Stafford laid before his hearers. While the schoolmen of 
 Cambridge were declaring to their pupils a reconciliation 
 which was not yet worked out, and telling them that pardon 
 must be purchased by the works prescribed by the church, 
 Stafford taught that redemption was accomplished, that the 
 satisfaction offered by Jesus Christ was perfect; and he 
 added, that popery having revived the kingdom of the law, 
 God, by the Reformation, was now reviving the kingdom of 
 grace. The Cambridge students, charmed by their master's 
 teaching, greeted him with applause, and, indulging a little 
 too far in their enthusiasm, said to one another as they left 
 the lecture-room : " Which is the most indebted to the 
 other ? Stafford to Paul, who left him the holy epistles ; or 
 Paul to Stafford, who has resuscitated that apostle and his 
 holy doctrines, which the middle ages had obscured?" 
 
 Above Bilney and Stafford rose Latimer, who, by the 
 power of the Holy Ghost, transfused into other hearts the 
 learned lessons of his master. \ Being informed of the 
 work that Tyndale was preparing, he maintained from the 
 Cambridge pulpits that the Bible ought to be read in the 
 vulgar tongue. " The author of Holy Scripture," said he, 
 
 "is the Mighty One, the Everlasting God himself! 
 
 and this Scripture partakes of the might and eternity of its 
 
 * He set forth in his lectures the native sense. Thomas Becon, ii. p. 
 426. 
 
 t Obscured through the darkness and mists of the papists. Ibid. 
 
 J A private instructor to the rest of his brethren within the university. 
 Foxe, 'Acts, vii. p. 438. 
 
 He proved in his sermons that the Holy Scriptures ought to be read 
 in the English tongue of all Christian people. Becon, vol. ii. p. 421 
 (Park. Soo.)
 
 248 LATIMER S PREACHING. 
 
 author. There is neither king nor emperor that is not 
 bound to obey it. Let us beware of those bypaths of human 
 tradition, filled of stones, brambles, and uprooted trees. Let 
 us follow the stiaight road of the word. It does not concern 
 us what the Fathers have done, but what they should have 
 done."* 
 
 A numerous congregation crowded to Latimer's preaching, 
 and his hearers hung listening to his lips. One in particu- 
 lar attracted attention. He was a Norfolk youth, sixteen 
 years of age, whose features were lighted up with under- 
 standing and piety. .This poor scholar had received with 
 eagerness the truth announced by the former cross-bearer. 
 He did not miss one of his sermons ; with a sheet of paper 
 on his knees, and a pencil in his hand, he took down part of 
 the discourse, trusting the remainder to his memory, -j- This 
 was Thomas Becon, afterwards chaplain to Cranmer, arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury. " If I possess the knowledge of God,'' 
 said he, " I owe it (under God) to Latimer." 
 
 Latimer had hearers of many sorts. By the side of those 
 who gave way to their enthusiasm stood men " swelling, 
 blown full, and puffed up like unto Esop's frog, with envy 
 and malice against him," said Becon ; J these were the parti- 
 sans of traditional Catholicism, whom curiosity had attracted, 
 or whom their evangelical friends had dragged to the church. 
 But as Latimer spoke, a marvellous transformation was 
 worked in them; by degrees their angry features relaxed, 
 their fierce looks grew softer; and, if these friends of the 
 priests were asked, after their return home, what they thought 
 of the heretic preacher, they replied, in the exaggeration of 
 their surprise and rapture : " Nunquam sic locutus est homoj 
 sicut hie homo I " (John vii. 46.) 
 
 When he descended from the pulpit, Latimer hastened to 
 practise what he had taught. He visited the narrow cham- 
 bers of the poor scholars, and the dark rooms of the working 
 classes : " he watered with good deeds whatsoever he had 
 
 * We find his opinions upon that subject in a later sermon. Latimer's 
 Sermons, p. 9R, 97 (Park. Soc.) 
 
 t A poor scholar of Cambridge but a child of sixteen years. Be- 
 
 ton'i Works, u. p. 424., Ibid. p. 425.
 
 JOT AND ANGER AT CAMBRIDGE. 249 
 
 before planted with godly words,"* said the student who 
 collected his discourses. The disciples conversed together 
 with joy and simplicity of heart ; everywhere the breath of 
 a new life was felt; as yet no external reforms had been 
 effected, and yet the spiritual church of the gospel and of 
 the Reformation was already there. And thus the recollec- 
 tion of these happy times was long commemorated in the 
 adage : 
 
 When Master Stafford read, 
 
 And Master Latimer preached, 
 
 Then was Cambridge blessed.f 
 
 The priests could not remain inactive : they heard speak 
 of grace and liberty, and would have nothing to do with 
 either. If grace is tolerated, will it not take from the hands 
 of the clergy the manipulation of salvation, indulgences, 
 penance, and all the rubrics of the canon law ? If liberty is 
 conceded, will not the hierarchy, with all its degrees, pomps, 
 violence, and scaffolds, be shaken? Rome desires no other 
 liberty than that of free-will, which, exalting the natural 
 strength of fallen man, dries up as regards mankind the 
 springs of divine life, withers Christianity, and changes that 
 heavenly religion into a human moralism and legal obser- 
 vances. 
 
 The friends of popery, therefore, collected their forces to 
 oppose the new religion. " Satan, who never sleeps," says 
 the simple chronicler, " called up his familiar spirits, and 
 sent them forth against the reformers." Meetings were held 
 in the convents, but particularly in that belonging to the 
 Greyfriars. They mustered all their forces. An eye for an 
 eye, and a tooth for a tooth, said they. Latimer extols in his 
 sermons the blessings of Scripture ; we must deliver a ser- 
 mon also to show its dangers. But where was the orator to 
 be found who could cope with him ? This was a very em- 
 barrassing question to the clerical party. Among the Grey- 
 friars there was a haughty monk, adroit and skilful in little 
 matters, and full at once of ignorance and pride : it was the 
 prior Buckingham. No one had shown more hatred against 
 the evangelical Christians, and no one was in truth a greater 
 Becon's Works, ii. p. 425. f Ibid. 
 
 L2
 
 250 THE PRIOR'S SERMON. 
 
 stranger to the gospel. This was the man commissioned to 
 set forth the dangers of the word of God. He was by no 
 means familiar with the New Testament ; he opened it how- 
 ever, picked out a few passages here and there which seemed 
 to favour his thesis, and then, arrayed in his costliest robes, 
 with head erect and solemn step already sure of victory, he 
 went into the pulpit, combated the heretic, and with pomp- 
 ous voice stormed against the reading of the Bible ;* it was 
 in his eyes the fountain of all heresies and misfortunes. " If 
 that heresy should prevail," he exclaimed, " there will be an 
 end of everything useful among us. The ploughman, read- 
 ing in the gospel that no man having put his hand to the 
 
 plough should look back, would soon lay aside his labour 
 
 The baker, reading that a little leaven leaveneth the whole 
 lump, will in future make us nothing but very insipid bread ; 
 and the simple man finding himself commanded to pluck out 
 the right eye and cast it from thee, England, after a few years, 
 will be a frightful spectacle ; it will be little better than a 
 nation of blind and one-eyed men, sadly begging their bread 
 from door to door."-J- 
 
 This discourse moved that part of the audience for which 
 it was intended. " The heretic is silenced," said the monks 
 and clerks; but sensible people smiled, and Latimer was. 
 delighted that they had given him such an adversary. Being 
 of a lively disposition and inclined to irony, he resolved to lash 
 the platitudes of the pompous friar. There are some ab- 
 surdities, he thought, which can only be refuted by showing 
 how foolish they are. Does not even the grave Tertullian 
 speak of things which are only to be laughed at, for fear of 
 giving them importance by a serious refutation ? J " Next 
 Sunday I will reply to him," said Latimer. 
 
 The church was crowded when Buckingham, with the 
 hood of St Francis on his shoulders and with a vain-glorious 
 air, took his place solemnly in front of the preacher. Lati- 
 
 * With great pomp and prolixity. Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 8. 
 
 f The nation full of blind beggars. Ibid. 
 
 J Si et ridebitur alicubi materiis ipsis satisfiet, Multa sunt sic digna. 
 revinci, ne gravitate adorentur. Contra Valentin : vi. See also Pascal's 
 Provincials, Letter xi.
 
 LATIMER'S REPLY. 251 
 
 mer began by recapitulating the least weak of his adver- 
 sary's arguments ; then taking them up one by one, he 
 turned them over and over, and pointed out all their ab- 
 surdity with so much wit that the poor prior was buried in 
 his own nonsense. Then turning towards the listening 
 crowd, he exclaimed with warmth : " This is how your skil- 
 ful guides abuse your understanding. They look upon you 
 as children that must be for ever kept in leading-strings. 
 Now, the hour of your majority has arrived ; boldly examine 
 the Scriptures, and you will easily discover the absurdity of 
 the teaching of your doctors." And then desirous, as Solo- 
 mon has it, of answering a fool according to his folly, he 
 added : " As for the comparisons drawn from the plough, 
 the leaven, and the eye, of which the reverend prior has 
 made so singular a use, is it necessary to justify these 
 passages of Scripture ? Must I tell you what plough, what 
 leaven, what eye is here meant ? Is not our Lord's teaching 
 distinguished by those expressions which, under a popular 
 form, conceal a spiritual and profound meaning ? Do not 
 we know that in all languages and in all speeches, it is not 
 on the image that we must fix our eyes, but on the thing 
 
 which the image represents? For instance," he continued, 
 
 and as he said these words he cast a piercing glance on the 
 prior, " if we see a fox painted preaching in a friar's hood, 
 nobody imagines that a fox is meant, but that craft and 
 hypocrisy are described, which are so often found disguised 
 in that garb."* At these words the poor prior, on whom 
 the eyes of all the congregation were turned, rose and left 
 the church hastily, and ran off to his convent to hide his 
 rage and confusion among his brethren. The monks and 
 their creatures uttered loud cries against Latimer. It was 
 unpardonable (they said) to have been thus wanting in 
 respect to the cowl of St Francis. But his friends replied : 
 " Do we not whip children? and he who treats Scripture 
 worse than a child, does he not deserve to be well flogged?" 
 The Romish party did not consider themselves beaten. 
 The heads of colleges and the priests held frequent con- 
 ferences. The professors were desired to watch carefully 
 * Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 10.
 
 252 THE STUDENTS THREATENED. 
 
 over their pupils, and to lead them back to the teaching of 
 the church by flattery and by threats. " We are putting 
 our lance in rest," they told the students ; " if you become 
 evangelicals, your advancement is at an end." But these 
 open-hearted generous youths loved rather to be poor with 
 Christ, than rich with the priests. Stafford continued to 
 teach, Latimer to preach, and Bilney to visit the poor : the 
 doctrine of Christ ceased not to be spread abroad, and souls 
 to be converted. 
 
 One weapon only was left to the schoolmen ; this was 
 persecution, the favourite arm of Rome. " Our enterprise 
 has not succeeded," said they ; " Buckingham is a fool. 
 The best way of answering these gospellers is to prevent 
 their speaking." Dr West, bishop of Ely, was ordinary of 
 Cambridge ; they called for his intervention, and he ordered 
 one of the doctors to inform him the next time Latimer 
 was to preach ; " but," added he, " do not say a word to any 
 one. I wish to come without being expected." 
 
 One day as Latimer was preaching in Latin ad *lerum, 
 the bishop suddenly entered the university church, attended 
 by a number of priests. Latimer stopped, waiting respect- 
 fully until West and his train had taken their places. " A 
 new audience," thought he; "and besides an audience worthy 
 of greater honour calls for a new theme. Leaving, there- 
 fore, the subject I had proposed, I will take up one that 
 relates to the episcopal charge, and will preach on these 
 words : Christus existens Pontifex futurorum bonorum." 
 (Hebrews ix. 11.) Then describing Jesus Christ, Latimer 
 represented him as the " true and perfect pattern unto all 
 other bishops."* There was not a single virtue pointed out 
 in the divine bishop that did not correspond with some de- 
 fect in the Romish bishops. Latimer's caustic wit had a 
 free course at their expense ; but there was so much gravity 
 in his sallies, and so lively a Christianity in his descriptions, 
 that every one must have felt them to be the cries of a 
 Christian conscience rather than the sarcasms of an ill- 
 natured disposition. Never had bishop been taught by one 
 of his priests like this man. " Alas ! " said many, " our 
 Strype'f Eccles. Mem. iii. p. 369.
 
 LAT1MER PREACHES BEFORE THE BISHOP. 253 
 
 bishops are not of that breed : they are descended from 
 Annas and Caiaphas." West was not more at his ease 
 than Buckingham had been formerly. He stifled his anger, 
 however ; and after the sermon, said to Latimer with a gra- 
 cious accent : " You have excellent talents, and if you would 
 
 do one thing I should be ready to kiss your feet."* 
 
 What humility in a bishop! " Preach in this same 
 
 church," continued West, "a sermon against Martin 
 
 Luther. That is the best way of checking heresy." Lati- 
 mer understood the prelate's meaning, and replied calmly : 
 ." If Luther preaches the word of God, I cannot oppose him. 
 But if he teaches the contrary, I am ready to attack him." 
 " Well, well, Master Latimer," exclaimed the bishop, " I 
 
 perceive that you smell somewhat of the pan.-}- One day 
 
 or another you will repent of that merchandise." 
 
 West having left Cambridge in great irritation against 
 that rebellious clerk, hastened to convoke his chapter, and 
 forbade Latimer to preach either in the university or in the 
 diocese. " All that will live godly shall suffer persecution," 
 St Paul had said; Latimer was now experiencing the 
 truth of the saying. It was not enough that the name of 
 heretic had been given him by the priests and their friends, 
 
 and that the passers-by insulted him in the streets; the 
 
 work of God was violently checked. " Behold then," he ex- 
 claimed with a bitter sigh, " the use of the episcopal office 
 
 to hinder the preaching of Jesus Christ!" Some few 
 
 years later he sketched, with his usual caustic irony, the 
 portrait of a certain bishop, of whom Luther also used fre- 
 quently to speak : " Do you know," said Latimer, " who is 
 
 the most diligentest bishop and prelate in all England ? 
 
 I see you listening and hearkening that I should name him 
 
 I will tell you It is the devil. He is never out of 
 
 his diocese ; ye shall never find him out of the way ; call for 
 him when you will, he's ever at home. He is ever at his 
 plough. Ye shall never find him idle, I warrant you. Where 
 the devil is resident there away with books and up with 
 candles ; away with bibles and up with beads ; away with 
 
 * I will kneel down and kiss your foot. Strype's Eccl. Mem. iii. p. 369. 
 t Ibid. p. 870.
 
 254 EGBERT BARNES. 
 
 the light of the gospel and up with the light of candles, yea 
 at noondays ; down with Christ's cross, up with purgatory 
 pickpurse ; away with clothing the naked, the poor, and im- 
 potent, up with decking of images and gay garnishing of 
 stocks and stones ; down with God's traditions and his most 
 
 holy word Oh ! that our prelates would be as diligent to 
 
 sow the corn of good doctrine as Satan is to sow cockle and 
 darnel !"* Truly may it be said, " There was never such a 
 preacher in England as he is."f 
 
 The reformer was not satisfied with merely speaking : he 
 acted. " Neither the menacing words of his adversaries nor 
 their cruel imprisonments," says one of his contemporaries,^: 
 " could hinder him from proclaiming God's truth." Forbid- 
 den to preach in the churches, he went about from house to 
 house. He longed for a pulpit, however, and this he ob- 
 tained. A haughty prelate had in vain interdicted his 
 preaching; Jesus Christ, who is above all bishops, is able, 
 wlfen one door is shut, to open another. Instead of one great 
 preacher there were soon two at Cambridge. 
 
 An Augustine monk named Robert Barnes, a native of 
 the county of Norfolk, and a great scholar, had gone to 
 Louvain .to prosecute his studies. Here he received the 
 degree of doctor of divinity, and having returned to Cam- 
 bridge, was nominated prior of his monastery in 1523. It was 
 his fortune to reconcile learning and the gospel in the uni- 
 versity ; but by leaning too much to learning he diminished the 
 force of the word of God. A great crowd collected every day 
 in the Augustine convent to hear his lectures upon Terence, 
 and in particular upon Cicero. Many of those who were 
 offended by the simple Christianity of Bilney and Latimer, 
 were attracted by this reformer of another kind. Coleman, 
 Coverdalc, Field, Cambridge, Barley, and many other young 
 men of the university, gathered round Barnes and proclaimed 
 him " the restorer of letters." 
 
 * Latimer's Sermons (Park. Soc.) vol. i. p. 70. Sermon of the Plough. 
 
 t Ibid. p. 72. 
 
 J He adds : Whatsoever he had once preached, he valiantly defended 
 the same. Becon, vol. h. p. 424. 
 
 The great restorer of good learning. Strype, i. p. 568 ; Foxe, Acts. 
 T.p.415.
 
 HIS LECTURES. 255 
 
 But the classics were only a preparatory teaching. The 
 masterpieces of antiquity having aided Barnes to clear the 
 soil, he opened before his class the epistles of St Paul. He 
 did not understand their divine depth, like Stafford ; he was 
 not, like him, anointed with the Holy Ghost; he differed 
 from him on several of the apostle's doctrines, on justifica- 
 tion by faith, and on the new creature ; but Barnes was an 
 enlightened and liberal man, not without some degree of 
 piety, and desirous, like Stafford, of substituting the teach- 
 ing of Scripture for the barren disputations of the school. 
 But they soon came into collision, and Cambridge long re- 
 membered that celebrated discussion in which Barnes and 
 Stafford contended with so much renown, employing no 
 other weapons than the word of God, to the great astonish- 
 ment of the blind doctors, and the great joy of the clear- 
 sighted, says the chronicler.* 
 
 Barnes was not as yet thoroughly enlightened, and the 
 friends of the gospel were astonished that a man, a stranger 
 to the truth, should deal such heavy blows against error. 
 Bilney, whom we continually meet with when any secret 
 work, a work of irresistible charity, is in hand, Bilney, 
 who had converted Latimer, undertook to convert Barnes ; 
 and Stafford, Arthur, Thistel of Pembroke, and Fooke of 
 Benet's, earnestly prayed God to grant his assistance. The 
 experiment was difficult : Barnes had reached that juste 
 milieu, that " golden mean" of the humanists, that intoxica- 
 tion of learning and glory, which render conversion more 
 difficult. Besides, could a man like Bilney really dare to 
 instruct the restorer of antiquity ? But the humble bachelor 
 of arts, so simple in appearance, knew, like David of old, a 
 secret power by which the Goliath of the university might 
 be vanquished. He passed days and nights in prayer ; and 
 then urged Barnes openly to manifest his convictions with- 
 out fearing the reproaches of the world. After many conver- 
 sations and prayers, Barnes was converted to the gospel of 
 Jesus Christ, f Still, the prior retained something undecided 
 
 * Marvellous in the sight of the great blind doctors. Foxe, Acts, v. 
 p. 415. 
 
 t Bilney converted Dr Barnes to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Foie, 
 Acts, ir. p. WO.
 
 256 BARNES CONVERTED BY BILNEY JOHN FRYTH. 
 
 in his character, and only half relinquished thai middle state 
 with which he had begun. For instance, he appears to have 
 always believed in the efficacy of sacerdotal consecration to 
 transform the bread and wine into the body and blood of 
 Christ. His eye was not single, and his mind was often 
 agitated and driven to and fro by contrary thoughts : " Alas !" 
 said this divided character one day, " I confess that my co- 
 gitations be innumerable."* 
 
 Barnes, having come to a knowledge of the truth, im- 
 mediately displayed a zeal that was somewhat imprudent. 
 Men of the least decided character, and even those who are 
 destined to make a signal fall, are often those who begin 
 their course with the greatest ardour. Barnes seemed pre- 
 pared at this time to withstand all England. Being now 
 united to Latimer by a tender Christian affection, he was in- 
 dignant that the powerful voice of his friend should be lost 
 to the church. " The bishop has forbidden you to preach,' ; 
 he said to him, " but my monastery is not under episcopal 
 hirisdiction. You can preach there." Latimer went into the 
 pulpit at the Augustines', and the church could not contain 
 the crowd that flocked to it. At Cambridge, as at Wittem- 
 berg, the chapel of the Augustine monks was used for the 
 first struggles of the gospel. It was here that Latimer de- 
 livered some of his best sermons. 
 
 A very different man from Latimer, and particularly from 
 Barnes, was daily growing in influence among the English 
 reformers : this was Fryth. No one was more humble than 
 he, and on that very account no one was stronger. He was 
 less brilliant than Barnes, but more solid. He might have 
 penetrated into the highest departments of science, but he 
 was drawn away by the deep mysteries of God's word ; the 
 call of conscience prevailed over that of the understanding.-j- 
 He did not devote the energy of his soul to difficult ques- 
 tions ; he thirsted for God, for his truth, and for his love. 
 Instead of propagating his particular opinions and forming 
 
 * Foxe, Acts, v. p. 434. 
 
 t Notwithstanding his other manifold and singular gifts and orna* 
 ments of the mind, in him most pregnant. Tyndale and Frytli's Works, 
 iii. p. 73.
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE, 1525. 257 
 
 divisions, he clung only to the faith which saves, and ad- 
 vanced the dominion of true unity. This is the mark of the 
 great servants of God. Humble before the Lord, mild before 
 men, and even in appearance somewhat timid, Fryth in the 
 face of danger displayed an intrepid courage. " My learning 
 is small," he said, " but the little I have I am determined to 
 give to Jesus Christ for the building of his temple."* 
 
 Latimer's sermons, Barnes's ardour, and Fryth's firmness, 
 excited fresh zeal at Cambridge. They knew what was go- 
 ing on in Germany and Switzerland; shall the English, ever 
 in front, now remain in the rear ? Shall not Latimer, Bil- 
 ney, Stafford, Barnes, and Fryth do what the servants of 
 God are doing in other places ? 
 
 A secret ferment announced an approaching crisis : every 
 one expected some change for better or for worse. The 
 evangelicals, confident in the truth, and thinking themselves 
 sure of victory, resolved to fall upon the enemy simultane- 
 ously on several points. The Sunday before Christmas, in 
 the year 1525, was chosen for this great attack. While 
 Latimer should address the crowds that continued to fill the 
 Augustine chapel, and others were preaching in other places, 
 Barnes was to deliver a sermon in one of the churches in the 
 town. But nothing compromises the gospel so much as a 
 disposition turned towards outward things. God, who grants 
 his blessing only to undivided hearts, permitted this general 
 assault, of which Barnes was to be the hero, to be marked 
 by a defeat. The prior, as he went into the pulpit, thought 
 only of "Wolsey. As the representative of the popedom in 
 England, the cardinal was the great obstacle to the Reforma- 
 tion. Barnes preached from the epistle for the day : Rejoice 
 in the Lord alway.-^ But instead of announcing Christ and 
 the joy of the Christian, he imprudently declaimed against 
 the luxury, pride, and diversions of the churchmen, and 
 everybody understood that he aimed at the cardinal. He 
 described those magnificent palaces, that brilliant suite, 
 those scarlet robes, and pearls, and gold, and precious stones, 
 
 * That is very small, nevertheless that little. Tyndale and Fryth's 
 Works, iii. p. 83. 
 t Philippians iv. 4-7. 
 
 VOL. V. 12
 
 258 BTOKM AGAINST BARNES. 
 
 and all the prelate's ostentation, so little in keeping (said he) 
 with the stable of Bethlehem. Two fellows of King's Col- 
 lege, Robert Eidley and Walter Preston, relations of Ton- 
 stall, bishop of London, who were intentionally among the 
 congregation, noted down in their tablets the prior's impru- 
 dent expressions. 
 
 The sermon was scarcely over when the storm broke 
 out. "These people are not satisfied with propagating 
 monstrous heresies," exclaimed their enemies, "but they 
 must find fault with the powers that be. To-day they 
 attack the cardinal, to-morrow they will attack the king!" 
 Ridley and Preston accused Barnes to the vice-chan- 
 cellor. All Cambridge was in commotion. What ! Barnes 
 the Augustine prior, the restorer of letters, accused as 
 
 a Lollard! The gospel was threatened with a danger 
 
 more formidable than a prison or a scaffold. The friends of 
 the priests, knowing Barnes's weakness, and even his 
 vanity, hoped to obtain of him a disavowal that would 
 cover the evangelical party with shame. "What!" said 
 these dangerous counsellors to him, " the noblest career was 
 
 open to you, and would you close it? Do, pray, explain 
 
 away your sermon." They alarmed, they flattered him ; 
 and the poor prior was near yielding to their solicitations. 
 " Next Sunday you will read this declaration," they said to 
 him. Barnes -ran over the paper put into his hands, and 
 saw no great harm in it. However he desired to show it to 
 Bilney and Stafford. " Beware of such weakness," said 
 these faithful men. Barnes then recalled his promise, and 
 for a season the enemies of the gospel were silent. 
 
 Its friends worked with increased energy. The fall from 
 which one of their companions had so narrowly escaped 
 inspired them with fresh zeal. The more indecision and 
 weakness Barnes had shown, the more did his brethren flee 
 to God for courage and firmness. It was reported, more- 
 over, that a powerful ally was coming across the sea, and 
 that the Holy Scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue, 
 were at last to be given to the people. Wherever the word 
 was preached, there the congregation was largest. It was 
 the seed-time of the church : all were busy in the fields to
 
 GERMANY AT CAMBRIDGE. 259 
 
 prepare the soil and trace the furrows. Seven colleges at 
 least were in full ferment: Pembroke, St John's, Queens', 
 King's, Caius, Benet's, and Peterhouse. The gospel was 
 preached at the Augustines', at Saint Mary's (the Univer- 
 sity church,) and in other places, and when the bells rang to 
 prayers, the streets were alive with students issuing from 
 the colleges, and hastening to the sermon,* 
 
 There was at Cambridge a house called the White Horse, 
 so situated as to permit the most timid members of King's, 
 Queens', and St John's Colleges, to enter at the rear without 
 being perceived. In every age Nicodemus has had his fol- 
 lowers. Here those persons used to assemble who desired 
 to read the Bible and the works of the German reformers. 
 The priests, looking upon Wittemberg as the focus of the 
 Reformation, named this house Germany: the people will 
 always have their bywords. At first the frequenters of the 
 White Horse were called Sophists; and now, whenever a 
 group of :: fellows" was seen walking in that direction, the 
 cry was, "There are the Germans going to Germany." 
 " We are not Germans," was the reply, " neither are we 
 Romans." The Greek New Testament had made them 
 Christians. The gospel-meetings had never been more fer- 
 vent. Some attended them to communicate the new life 
 they possessed ; others to receive what God had given to 
 the more advanced brethren. The Holy Spirit united them 
 all, and thus, by the fellowship of the saints, were real 
 churches created. To these young Christians the word of 
 God was the source of so much light, that they imagined 
 themselves transported to that heavenly city of which the 
 Scriptures speak, which had no need of the sun, for the glory 
 of God did lighten it. " So oft as I was in the company of 
 these brethren," said a youthful student of St John's, " me- 
 thought I was quietly placed in the new glorious Jerusa- 
 lem." f 
 
 Similar things were taking place at Oxford. In 1524 and 
 1525, Wolsey had successively invited thither several Cam- 
 bridge fellows, and although only seeking the most able, lie 
 
 * Flocked together in open street. Strype, Mem. i. p. 568. 
 t Becon, ii. p. 42.
 
 260 MEETINGS AT OXFORD. 
 
 found that he had taken some of the most pious. Besides 
 John Clark, there were Richard Cox, John Fryer, Godfrey 
 Harman, W. Betts, Henry Sumner, W. Baily, Michael 
 Drumm, Th. Lawny, and, lastly, the excellent John Fryth. 
 These Christians, associating with Clark, with his faithful 
 Dalaber, and with other evangelicals of Oxford, held meet- 
 ings, like their Cambridge brethren, at which God manifested 
 his presence. The bishops made war upon the gospel ; the 
 king supported them with all his power ; but the word had 
 gained the victory ; there was no longer any doubt. The 
 church was born again in England. 
 
 The great movement of the sixteenth century had begun 
 more particularly among the younger doctors and students 
 at Oxford and Cambridge. From them it was necessary 
 that it should be extended to the people, and for that end 
 the New Testament, hitherto read in Latin and in Greek, 
 must be circulated in English. The voices of these youthful 
 evangelists were heard, indeed, in London and in the pro- 
 vinces, but their exhortations would have been insufficient, 
 if the mighty hand which directs all things had not made 
 this Christian activity coincide with that holy work for 
 which it had set Tyndale apart. While all was agitation in 
 England, the waves of ocean were bearing from the conti- 
 nent to the banks of the Thames those Scriptures of God, 
 which, three centuries later, multiplied by thousands and by 
 millions, and, translated into a hundred and fifty tongues, 
 were to be wafted from the same banks to the ends of the 
 world. If in the fifteenth century, and even in the early 
 years of the sixteenth, the English New Testament had been 
 brought to London, it would only have fallen into the hands 
 of a few Lollards. Now, in every place, in the parsonages, 
 the universities, and the palaces, as well as in the cottages 
 of the husbandmen and the shops of the tradesmen, there 
 was an ardent desire to possess the Holy Scriptures. The 
 fiat lux was about to be uttered over the chaos of the church, 
 and light to be separated from darkness by the word of 
 God.
 
 BOOK XIX. 
 
 TEDS ENGLISH NEW TESTAMENT AND THE COURT OF BOMB. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Church and State essentially distinct Their fundamental Principles 
 What restores Life to the Church Separation from Rome necessary 
 Reform and Liberty The New Testament crosses the Sea Is hidden 
 in London Garret's Preaching and Zeal Dissemination of Scripture 
 What the People find in it The Effects it produces Tyndale's 
 Explanations Roper, More's Son-in-law Garret carries Tyndale's 
 Testament to Oxford Henry and his Valet The Supplication of the 
 Beggars Two Sorts of Beggars Evils caused by Priests More's 
 Supplications of the Souls in Purgatory. 
 
 THE Church and the State are essentially distinct. They 
 both receive their task from God, but that task is different 
 in each. The task of the church is to lead men to God ; the 
 task of the state is to secure the earthly development of a 
 people in conformity with its peculiar character. There are 
 certain bounds, traced by the particular spirit of each nation 
 within which the state should confine itself; while the church, 
 whose limits are co-extensive with the human race, has a 
 universal character, which raises it above all national differ- 
 ences. These two distinctive features should be maintained. 
 A state which aims at universality loses itself; a church 
 whose mind and aim are sectarian falls away. Neverthe- 
 less, the church and the state, the two poles of social life, 
 while they are in many respects opposed to one another, are 
 far from excluding each other absolutely. The church has 
 need of that justice, order, and liberty, which the state is 
 bound to maintain ; but the state has especial need of the 
 church. If Jesus can do without kings to establish big
 
 262 CHURCH AND STATE. 
 
 kingdom, kings cannot do without Jesus, if they would have 
 their kingdoms prosper. Justice, which is the fundamental 
 principle of the state, is continually fettered in its progress 
 by the internal power of sin ; and as force can do nothing 
 against this power, the state requires the gospel in order tr 
 overcome it. That country will always be the most pros- 
 perous where the church is the most evangelical. These 
 two communities having thus need one of the other, we 
 must be prepared, whenever a great religious manifesta- 
 tion takes place in the world, to witness the appearance on 
 the scene not only of the little ones, but of the great ones also, 
 of the state. We must not then be surprised to meet with 
 Henry VIII., but let us endeavour to appreciate accurately 
 the part he played. 
 
 If the Reformation, particularly in England, happened 
 necessarily to be mixed up with the state, with the world 
 even, it originated neither in the state nor in the world. 
 There was much worldliness in the age of Henry VIII., 
 passions, violence, festivities, a trial, a divorce ; and some 
 historians call that the history of the Reformation in Eng- 
 land. We shall not pass by in silence these manifestations 
 of the worldly life ; opposed as they are to the Christian life, 
 they are in history, and it is not our business to tear them 
 out. But most assuredly they are not the Reformation. 
 From a very different quarter proceeded the divine light 
 which then rose upon th human race. 
 
 To say that Henry VIII. was the reformer of his people is 
 to betray our ignorance of history. The kingly power in 
 England by turns opposed and favoured the reform in the 
 church ; but it opposed before it favoured, and much more 
 than it favoured. This great transformation was begun and 
 extended by its own strength, by the Spirit from on high. 
 
 When the church has lost the life that is peculiar to it, it 
 must again put itself in communication with its creative 
 principle, that is, with the word of God. Just as the buckets 
 of a wheel employed in irrigating the meadows have no 
 sooner discharged their reviving waters, than they dip again 
 into the stream to be re-filled, so every generation, void of 
 the Spirit of Christ, must return to the divine source to be
 
 GOD'S SPIRIT CREATES THE CHURCH. 263 
 
 again filled up. The primitive words which created the 
 church have been preserved for us in the Gospels, the Acts, 
 and the Epistles ; and the humble reading of these divine 
 writings will create in every age the communion of saints. 
 Gtd was the father of the Reformation, not Henry VIII. 
 The visible world which then glittered with such brightness ; 
 those princes and sports, those noblemen, and trials and 
 laws, far from effecting a reform, were calculated to stifle it. 
 But the light and the warmth came from heaven, and the 
 new creation was completed. 
 
 In the reign of Henry VIII. a great number of citizens, 
 priests, and noblemen possessed that degree of cultivation 
 which favours the action of the holy books. It was suffi- 
 cient for this divine seed to be scattered on the well-prepared 
 soil for the work of germination to be accomplished. 
 
 A time not less important also was approaching that in 
 which the action of the popedom was to come to an end. 
 The hour had not yet struck. God was first creating within 
 by his word a spiritual church, before he broke without by 
 bis dispensations the bonds which had so long fastened 
 England to the power of Rome. It was jjis good pleasure 
 first to give truth and life, and then liberty. It has been 
 said that if the pope had consented to a reform of abuses 
 and doctrines, on condition of his keeping his position, the 
 religious revolution would not have been satisfied at that 
 price, and that after demanding ^reform, the next demand 
 would have been for liberty. The only reproach that can 
 be made to this assertion is, that it is superabundantly 
 true. Liberty was an integral part of the Reformation, 
 and one of the changes imperatively required was to with- 
 draw religious authority from the pope, and restore it to the 
 word of God. In the sixteenth century there was a great 
 outpouring of the Christian life in France, Italy, and Spain ; 
 it is attested by martyrs without number, and history shows 
 that to transform these three great nations, all that the gos- 
 pel wanted was liberty.* "If we had set to work two 
 months later," said a grand inquisitor of Spain who had 
 
 * Geddes's Martyrology Gonsalvi, Mart. Hisp. Llorente, Inquia. 
 M'Crie, Ref. in Spain.
 
 264 ARRIVAL OF THE NEW TESTAMENTS. 
 
 dyed himself in the blood of the saints, " it would have been 
 too late : Spain would have been lost to the Roman church." 
 We ma}' therefore believe that if Italy, France, and Spain 
 had had some generous king to check the myrmidons of tUe 
 pope, those three countries, carried along by the renovating 
 power of the gospel, would have entered upon an era of 
 liberty and faith. 
 
 The struggles of England with the popeiom began shortly 
 after the dissemination of the English New Testament by 
 Tyndale. The epoch at which we are arrived accordingly 
 brings in one view before our eyes both the Testament of 
 Jesus Christ and the court of Rome. We can thus study 
 the men (the reformers and the Romanists) and the works 
 they produce, and arrive at a just valuation of the two great 
 principles which dispute the possession of authority in the 
 church. 
 
 It was about the close of the year 1525 ; the English New 
 Testament was crossing the sea ; five pious Hanseatic mer- 
 chants had taken charge of the books. Captivated by the 
 Holy Scriptures tjiey had taken them on board their ships, 
 hidden them among their merchandise ; and then made sail 
 from Antwerp for London. 
 
 Thus those precious pages were approaching England, 
 which were to become its light and the source of its great- 
 ness. The merchants, whose zeal unhappily cost them 
 dear, were not without alarm. Had not Cochlaeus caused 
 orders to be sent to every port to prevent the entrance of the 
 precious cargo they were bringing to England? They 
 arrived and cast anchor; they lowered the boat to reach 
 the shore ; what were they likely to meet there ? Ton- 
 stall's agents, no doubt, and Wolsey's, and Henry's, ready 
 to take away their New Testaments! They landed and 
 soon again returned to the ship ; boats passed to and fro, 
 and the vessel was unloaded. No enemy appeared ; and no 
 one seemed to imagine that these ships contained so great a 
 treasure. 
 
 Just at the time this invaluable cargo was ascending the 
 river, an invisible hand had dispersed the preventive guard.
 
 THOMAS GARRET. 265 
 
 Tonstall, bishop of London, had been sent to Spain ; Wolsey 
 was occupied in political combinations with Scotland, France, 
 and the Empire ; Henry VIII., driven from his capital by 
 an unhealthy winter, was passing the Christmas holidays at 
 Eltham ; and even the courts of justice, alarmed by an ex- 
 traordinary mortality, had suspended their sittings. God 
 if we may so speak, had sent his angel to remove th( 
 guards. 
 
 Seeing nothing that could stop them, the five merchants, 
 whose establishment was at the Steelyard in Thames Street, 
 hastened to conceal their precious charge in their ware- 
 houses. But who will receive them ? Who will undertake 
 to distribute these Holy Scriptures in London, Oxford, Cam- 
 bridge, and all England ? It is a little matter that they 
 have crossed the sea. The principal instrument God was 
 about to use for their dissemination was an humble servant 
 of Christ. 
 
 In Honey Lane, a narrow thoroughfare adjoining Cheap- 
 side, stood the old church of All Hallows, of which Robert 
 Forman was rector. His curate was a plain man, of lively 
 imagination, delicate conscience, and timid disposition, but 
 rendered bold by his faith, to which he was to become a mar- 
 tyr. Thomas Garret, for that was his name, having be- 
 lieved in the gospel, earnestly called his hearers to repent- 
 ance ;* he urged upon them that works, however good they 
 might be in appearance, were by no means capable of justi- 
 fying the sinner, and that faith alone could save him.-{- He 
 maintained that every man had the right to preach the word 
 of God ;$ and called those bishops pharisees who persecuted 
 Christian men. Garret's discourses, at once so quickening 
 and so gentle, attracted great crowds ; and to many of his 
 hearers, the street in which he preached was rightly named 
 Honey Lane, for there they found the honey out of the rock. 
 But Garret was about to commit a fault still more heinous 
 
 * Earnestly laboured to call us to repentance. Becon, iii p. 1 1. 
 t Quod opera nostra quautumvis bona in specie nihil cunducunt ad 
 justificationem nee ad meritum, sed sola fides. Foxc, Acli, v. p. 428. 
 $ Every man may preach the word of God. Ibid. 
 Psalm Ixxxi. 16. 
 
 12* If
 
 260 WHAT MEN FOUND IN THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 in the eyes of the priests than preaching faith. The Hanse 
 merchants were seeking some sure place where they might 
 store up the New Testaments and other books sent from 
 Germany ; the curate offered his house, stealthily trans- 
 ported the holy deposit thither, hid them in the most secret 
 corners, and kept a faithful watch over this sacred library.* 
 He did not confine himself to this. Night and day he 
 studied the holy books, he held gospel Meetings, read the 
 word and explained its doctrines to the citizens of London. 
 At last, not satisfied with being at once student, librarian, 
 and preacher, he became a trader, and sold the New Testa- 
 ment to laymen, and even to priests and monks, so that the 
 Holy Scriptures were dispersed over the whole realm.-}- This 
 humble and timid priest was then performing alone the 
 biblical work of England. 
 
 And thus the word of God, presented by Erasmus to the 
 learned in 1517, was given to the people by Tyndale in 1526. 
 In the parsonages and in the convent cells, but particularly 
 in shops and cottages, a crowd of persons were studying the 
 New Testament. The clearness of the Holy Scriptures struck 
 each reader. None of the systematic or aphoristic forms of 
 the school were to be found there : it was the language of 
 human life which they discovered in those divine writings : 
 here a conversation, there a discourse ; here a narrative, and 
 there a comparison ; here a command, and there an argu- 
 ment ; here a parable and there a prayer. It was not all doc- 
 trine or all history ; but these two elements mingled together 
 made an admirable whole. Above all, the life of our Saviour, 
 so divine and so human, had an inexpressible charm which 
 captivated the simple. One work of Jesus Christ explained 
 another, and the great facts of the redemption, birth, death, 
 and resurrection of the Son of God, and the sending of the 
 Holy Ghost, followed and completed each other. The au- 
 thority of Christ's teaching, so strongly contrasting with the 
 doubts of the schools, increased the clearness of his dis- 
 courses to his readers ; for the more certain a truth is, the 
 
 * Having the said books in his custody. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 428. 
 t Dispersing abroad of the said books within this realm. Ibid. p. 428. 
 \e also Strype, Cranmer's Mem. p. 81.
 
 WHAT MEN FOUND IN THE SCRIPTURES. 267 
 
 more distinctly it strikes the mind. Academical explana- 
 tions were not necessary to those noblemen, farmers, and 
 citizens. It is to me, for me, and of me that this book 
 speaks, said each, one. It is I whom all tbtse promises and 
 
 teachings concern. This fall and this restoration they 
 
 are mine. That old death and this new life I have 
 
 passed through them. That/esA and that spirit I know 
 
 them. This law and this grace, this faith, these works, this 
 
 slavery, this glory, this Christ and this Belial all are 
 
 familiar to me. It is my own history that I find in this book. 
 Thus by the aid of the Holy Ghost each one had in his own 
 experience a key to the mysteries of the Bible. To under- 
 stand certain authors and certain philosophers, the intellec- 
 tual life of the reader must be in harmony with theirs ; so 
 must there be an intimate affinity with the holy books to 
 penetrate their mysteries. " The man that has not the Spirit 
 of God," said a reformer, " does not understand one jot or 
 tittle of the Scripture."* Now that this condition was ful- 
 filled, the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. 
 
 Such at that period were the hermeneutics of England. 
 Tyndale had set the example himself by explaining many of 
 the words which might stop the reader. " The New Testa- 
 ment I " we may suppose some fanner saying, as he took up 
 the book; "what Testament is that ?"" Christ," replied 
 Tyndale in his prologue, " commanded his disciples before 
 his death to publish over all the world his last will, which is 
 to give all his goods unto all that repent and believe.-J- He 
 bequeaths them his righteousness to blot out their sins 
 his salvation to overcome their condemnation ; and this is 
 why that document is called the Testament of Jesus Christ." 
 
 " The law and the gospel," said a citizen of London, in his 
 shop; "what is that?" "They are two keys" answered 
 Tyndale. " The law is the key which shuts up all men 
 under condemnation, and the gospel is the key which opens 
 
 Nullus homo unnm iota in Scripturis sacris videt, nisi qui spiritura 
 Dei habet. Luther, De servo arbitrio, Witt. ii. p. 424. 
 
 t Tyndale and Fryth's Works (ed. Russell), vol. ii. p. 491. The 
 " Pathway unto the Holy Scripture" is the prologue to the quarto Testa- 
 ment, with a few changes of little importance.
 
 268 KOPER, MOEE'S SON-IN-LAW. 
 
 the door and lets them out. Or, if you like it, they are two 
 salves. The law, sharp and biting, driveth out the disease 
 and killeth it ; while the gospel, soothing and soft, softens 
 the wound and brings life."* Every on^ understood and 
 read, or rather devoured the inspired pages ; and the hearts 
 of the elect (to use Tyndale's words), warmed by the love of 
 Jesus Christ, began to melt like wax.f 
 
 This transformation was observed to take place even in 
 the most catholic families. Roper, More's son-in-law, hav- 
 ing read the New Testament, received the truth. " I have 
 no more need," said he, " of auricular confession, of vigils, 
 or of the invocation of saints. The ears of God are always 
 open to hear us. Faith alone is necessary to salvation. I 
 
 believe and I am saved Nothing can deprive me of 
 
 God's favour." J 
 
 The amiable and zealous young man desired to do more. 
 " Father," said he one day to Sir Thomas, " procure for me 
 from the king, who isvery fond of you, a license to preach. 
 God hath sent me to instruct the world." More was uneasy. 
 Must this new doctrine, which he detests, spread even to his 
 children ? He exerted all his authority to destroy the work 
 begun in Roper's heart. " What," said he with a smile, " is 
 it not sufficient that we that are your friends should know 
 that you are a fool, but you would proclaim your folly to 
 the world? Hold your tongue: I wiH debate with you no 
 longer." The young man's imagination was struck, but his 
 heart had not been changed. The discussions having 
 ceased, the father's authority being restored, Roper became 
 less fervent in his faith, and gradually he returned to popery, 
 of which he was afterwards a zealous champion. 
 
 The humble curate of All Hallows having sold the New 
 Testament to persons living in London and its neighbour- 
 hood, and to many pious men who would carry it to the 
 farthest parts of England, formed the resolution to introduce 
 it into the University of Oxford, that citadel of traditional 
 Catholicism. It was there he had studied, and he felt to- 
 wards that school the affection which a son bears to his 
 
 ' Tyndale and Fryth's Works (ed. Russell), vol. ii. p. 503. 
 + Ibid. p. 500. J More'a Life, p. 134.
 
 HENRY Vm. AND HIS VALET. 269 
 
 mother: he set out with his books.* Terror occasionally 
 seized him, for he knew that the word of God had many 
 deadly enemies at Oxford ; but his inexhaustible zeal over- 
 came his timidity. In concert with Dalaber, he stealthily 
 offered the mysterious book for sale ; many Students bought 
 it, and Garret carefully entered their names in his register. 
 This was in January 1526 ; an incident disturbed this 
 Christian activity. 
 
 One morning when Edmund Moddis, one of Henry's 
 valets-de-chambre, was in attendance on his master, the 
 prince, who was much attached to him, spoke to him of the 
 new books come from beyond the sea. " If your grace," 
 said Moddis, " would promise to pardon me and certain in- 
 dividuals, I would present you a wonderful book which is 
 dedicated to your majesty ."{ " Who is the author?" " A 
 lawyer of Gray's Inn named Simon Fish, at present on the 
 continent." "AVhat is he doing there?" "About three 
 years ago, Mr Row, a fellow-student of Gray's Inn, composed 
 for a private theatre a drama against my lord the cardinal." 
 The king smiled ; when his minister was attacked, his own 
 yoke seemed lighter. " As no one was willing to represent 
 the character employed to give the cardinal his lesson," con- 
 tinued the valet, "Master Fish boldly accepted it. The 
 piece produced a great effect ; and my lord being informed 
 of this impertinence, sent the police one night to arrest Fish. 
 The latter managed to escape, crossed the sea, joined 
 one Tyndale, the author of some of the books so much 
 talked of; and, carried away by his friend's example, he 
 composed the book of which I was speaking to your grace." 
 "What's the name of it?" " The Supplication of the 
 Beggars" "Where did you see it?" "At two of your 
 tradespeople's, George Elyot and George Robinson :f it 
 your grace desires it, they shall bring it you." The king 
 appointed the day and the hour. 
 
 The book was written for the king, and everybody read 
 
 * And brought with him Tyndale's first translation of the New Testa- 
 aent in English. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 421. 
 
 f His grace should see such a book as it was a marvel to hear of. 
 lhid.ir. p. 658. J Ibid.
 
 270 SUPPLICATION OF THE BEGGARS. 
 
 it but the king himself. At the appointed day, Moddis ap- 
 peared with Elyot and Robinson, who were not entirely 
 without fear, as they might be accused of proselytism even 
 in the royal palace. The king received them in his private 
 apartments.* "What do you want?" he said to them. 
 " Sir," replied one of the merchants, " we are come about an 
 extraordinary book that is addressed to you." " Can one of 
 you read it to me?" " Yes, if it so please your grace," re- 
 plied Elyot. " You may repeat the contents from memory," 
 
 rejoined the king "but, no, read it. all; that will be 
 
 better. I am ready." Elyot began, 
 
 " THE SUPPLICATION OF THE BEGGARS." 
 " To the king our sovereign lord, 
 
 " Most lamentably complaineth of their woeful misery, 
 unto your highness, your poor daily bedesmen, the wretched 
 hideous monsters, on whom scarcely, for horror, any eye 
 dare look ; the foul unhappy sort of lepers and other sore 
 people, needy, impotent, blind, lame, and sick, that live only 
 by alms; how that their number is daily sore increased, 
 that all the alms of all the well-disposed people of this your 
 realm are not half enough to sustain them, but that for very 
 constraint they die for hunger. 
 
 " And this most pestilent mischief is come upon your said 
 poor bedesmen, by the reason that there hath, in the time of 
 your noble predecessors, craftily crept into this your realm, 
 another sort, not of impotent, but of strong, puissant, and 
 counterfeit, holy and idle beggars and vagabonds, who by 
 all the craft and wiliness of Satan are now increased not 
 only into a great number, but also into a kingdom." 
 
 Henry was very attentive. Elyot continued : 
 
 " These are not the shepherds, but the ravenous wolves 
 going in shepherds' clothing, devouring the flock : bishops, 
 abbots, priors, deacons, archdeacons, suffragans, priests, 
 
 monks, canons, friars, pardoners, and sumners The 
 
 goodliest lordships, manors, lands, and territories are theirs. 
 Besides this, they have the tenth part of all the corn, 
 meadow, pasture, grass, wood, colts, calves, lambs, pigs, 
 
 * Foxe, Acts. iv. p. 658
 
 EVILS CAUSED BY THE PRIESTS. 271 
 
 geese, and chickens. Over and besides, the tenth part of 
 every servant's wages, the tenth part of wool, milk, honey, 
 wax, cheese, and butter. The poor wives must be account- 
 able to them for every tenth egg, or else she getteth not her 
 
 rights [t. e. absolution] at Easter Finally, what get 
 
 they in a year? Sumtoa totalis: 430,333, 6s. 8d. ster- 
 ling, whereof not four hundred years past they had not a 
 penny 
 
 " What subjects shall be able to help their prince, that be 
 after this fashion yearly polled ? What good Christian people 
 can be able to succour us poor lepers, blind, sore, and lame, 
 
 that be thus yearly oppressed? The ancient Romans 
 
 had never been able to have put all the whole world under 
 their obeisance, if they had had at home such an idle sort of 
 cormorants." . . . . 
 
 No subject could have been found more likely to captivate 
 the king's attention. " And what doth all this greedy sort 
 of sturdy idle holy thieves with their yearly exactions that 
 they take of the people ? Truly nothing, but translate all 
 rule, power, lordship, authority, obedience, and dignity from 
 your grace unto them. Nothing, but that all your subjects 
 
 should fall into disobedience and rebellion Priests and 
 
 doves make foul houses ; and if you will ruin a state, set up 
 
 in it the pope with his monks and clergy Send these 
 
 sturdy loobies abroad in the world to take them wives of 
 their own, and to get their living with their labour in the 
 
 sweat of their faces Then shall your commons increase in 
 
 riches; then shall matrimony be much better kept; then 
 shall not your sword, power, crown, dignity, and obedience 
 of your people be translated from you." 
 
 When Elyot had finished reading, the king was silent, 
 sunk in thought. The true cause of the ruin of the state 
 had been laid before him ; but Henry's mind was not ripe 
 for these important truths. At last he said, with an uneasy 
 manner : " If a man who desires to pull down an old wall, 
 begins at the bottom, I fear the upper part may chance to 
 fall on his head."* Thus then, in the king's eyes, Fish by 
 
 * The upper part thereof might chance to fall upon his head. Foxe, 
 Acts, iv. p. 658.
 
 272 SUPPLICATIONS OP THE SOULS IN PURGATORY. 
 
 attacking the priests was disturbing the foundations of reli- 
 gion and society. After this royal verdict, Henry rose, took 
 the book, locked it up in his desk, and forbade the two mer- 
 chants to reveal to any one the fact of their having read it 
 to him. 
 
 Shortly after the king had received this copy, on Wednes- 
 day the 2d of February, the feast of Candlemas, a number of 
 persons, including the king himself, were to take part in the 
 procession, bearing wax tapers in their hands. During the 
 night this famous invective was scattered about all the 
 streets through which the procession had to pass. The 
 cardinal ordered the pamphlet to be seized, and immediately 
 waited upon the king. The latter put his hand under his 
 robe, and with a smile took out the so much dreaded work, 
 and then, as if satisfied with this proof of independence, he 
 gave it up to the cardinal. 
 
 While Wolsey replied to Fish by confiscation, Sir Thomas 
 More with greater liberality, desiring that press should reply 
 to press, published The Supplications of the Souls in Purga- 
 tory. " Suppress," said they, " the pious stipends paid to 
 the monks, and then Luther's gospel will come in, Tynd ale's 
 Testament will be read, heresy will preach, fasts will be 
 neglected, the saints will be blasphemed, God will be of- 
 fended, virtue will be mocked of, vice will run riot, and 
 England will be peopled with beggars and thieves."* The 
 Souls in Purgatory then call the author of the Beggars' 
 Supplication "a goose, an ass, a mad dog." Thus did 
 superstition degrade More's noble genius. Notwithstanding 
 the abuse of the souls in purgatory, the New Testament was 
 daily read more and more in England. 
 
 * Supplication of the Souls in Purgatory. More's Works.
 
 COUNCIL OF BISHOPS. 273 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 
 
 The two Authorities Commencement of the Search Garret at Oxford 
 His Flight His Return and Imprisonment Escapes and takes 
 Refuge with Dalaber Garret and Dalaber at Prayer The Magnifi- 
 cat Surprise among the Doctors dart's Advice Fraternal Love at 
 Oxford Alarm of Dalaber His Arrest and Examination He is 
 tortured Garret and twenty Fellows imprisoned The Cellar Con- 
 demnation and Humiliation. 
 
 WOLSEY did not stop with Fish's book. It was not that 
 "miserable pamphlet" only that it was necessary to hunt 
 down ; the New Testament in English had entered the king- 
 dom by surprise; there was the danger. The gospellers, 
 who presumed to emancipate man from the priests, and put 
 him in absolute dependence on God, did precisely the reverse 
 of what Rome demands.* The cardinal hastened to as- 
 semble the bishops, and these (particularly Warham and. 
 Tonstall, who had long enjoyed the jests launched against 
 superstition) took the matter seriously when they were 
 shown that the New Testament was circulating throughout 
 England. These priests believed with "VVolsey, that the au- 
 thority of the pope and of the clergy was a dogma to which 
 all others were subordinate. They saw in the reform an up- 
 rising of the human mind, a desire of thinking for themselves, 
 of judging freely the doctrines and institutions, which the 
 nations had hitherto received humbly from the hands of 
 the priests. The new doctors justified their attempt at en- 
 franchisement by substituting a new authority for the old. 
 It was the New Testament that compromised the absolute 
 power of Rome. It must be seized and destroyed, said the 
 bishops. London, Oxford, and above all Cambridge, those 
 three haunts of heresy, must be carefully searched. Defini- 
 tive orders were issued on Saturday, 3d February .1520, and 
 the work began immediately. 
 
 * Actus merit or ius est in potestate hominis. Duns Scot us in Sen tent, 
 lib. 1. diss. 17. 
 
 1*2
 
 274 COMMENCEMENT OP THE SEAHCH GAKKK'f's FLIGHT. 
 
 The first visit of the inquisitors was to Honey Lane, to the 
 house of the curate of All Hallows. They did not find Gar- 
 ret ; they sought after him at Monmouth's, and throughout 
 the city, but he could not be met with.* " He is gone to 
 Oxford to sell his detestable wares," the inquisitors were in- 
 formed, and they set off after him immediately, determined 
 to burn the evangelist and his books ; "so burning hot," says 
 an historian, " was the charity of these holy fathers." f 
 
 On Tuesday, the 6th of February, Garret was quietly sell- 
 ing his books at Oxford, and carefully noting down his sales 
 in his register, when two of his friends ran to him exclaim- 
 ing, " Fly I or else you will be taken before the cardinal, and 
 
 thence to the Tower." The poor curate was greatly 
 
 agitated. " From whom did you learn that ? " " From 
 Master Cole, the clerk of the assembly, who is deep in the 
 cardinal's favour." Garret, who saw at once that the affair 
 was serious, hastened to Anthony Dalaber, who held the 
 stock of the Holy Scriptures at Oxford ; others followed him ; 
 the news had spread rapidly, and those who had bought the 
 book were seized with alarm, for they knew by the history 
 of the Lollards what the Romish clergy could do. They took 
 counsel together. The brethren, " for so did we not only 
 call one another, but were in deed one to another," says 
 Dalaber,^: decided that Garret should change his name ; that 
 Dalaber should give him a letter for his brother, the rector 
 of Stalbridge, in Dorsetshire, who was in want of a curate ; 
 and that, once in this parish, he should seek the first oppor- 
 tunity of crossing the sea. The rector was in truth a " mad 
 papist" (it is Dalaber's expression), but that did not alter 
 their resolution. They knew of no other resource. Anthony 
 wrote to him hurriedly ; and. on the morning of the 7th of 
 February, Garret left Oxford without being observed. 
 
 Having provided for Garret's safety, Dalaber next thought 
 of his own. He carefully concealed in a secret recess of his 
 chamber, at St Alban's Hall, Tyndale's Testament, and the 
 works of Luther, CEcolampadius, and others, on the word of 
 God. Then, disgusted with the scholastic sophisms which 
 
 * He was searched for through all London. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 421. 
 t Ibid. J Ibid.
 
 HIS RETURN AND IMPRISONMENT. 275 
 
 
 
 he heard in that college, he took with him the New Testa- 
 ment and the Commentary on the Gospel of St Luke, by 
 Lambert of Avignon, the second edition of which had just 
 been published at Strasburg,* and went to Gloucester col- 
 lege, where he intended to study the civil law, not caring to 
 have anything more to do with the church. 
 
 During this time, poor Garret was making his way into 
 Dorsetshire. His conscience could not bear the idea of being, 
 although for a short time only, the curate of a bigoted priest, 
 of concealing his faith, his desires, and even his name. 
 He felt more wretched, although at liberty, than he could 
 have been in Wolsey's prisons. It is better, he said within 
 himself, to confess Christ before the judgment-seat, than to 
 seem to approve of the superstitious practices I detest. He 
 went forward a little, then stopped and then resumed his 
 course. There was a fierce struggle between his fears and 
 his conscience. At length, after a day and a half spent in 
 doubt, his conscience prevailed ; unable to endure any longer 
 the anguish that he felt, he retraced his steps, returned to 
 Oxford, which he entered on Friday evening, and lay down 
 calmly in his bed. It 'was barely past midnight when Wol- 
 sey's agents, who had received information of his return, 
 arrived, and dragged him from his bed,-}- and delivered him 
 up to Dr Cottisford, the commissary of the university. The 
 latter locked him up in one of his rooms, while London and 
 Higdon, dean of Frideswide, "two arch papists" (as the 
 chronicler terms them), announced this important capture to 
 the cardinal. They thought popery was saved, because a 
 poor curate had been taken. 
 
 Dalaber, engaged in preparing his new room at Gloucester 
 college, had not perceived all this commotion.^ On Saturday, 
 at noon, having finished his arrangements, he double-locked 
 his door, and began to read the Gospel according to St Luke. 
 All of a sudden he hears a knock. Dalaber made no reply ; 
 it is no doubt the commissary's officers. A louder knock 
 was given ; but he still remained silent. Immediately after, 
 there was a third knock, as if the door would be beaten in. 
 
 * In LUCID Evangclium Commentarii, nuac secundo recogniti et lo- 
 cupletati. Argentorati, 1525. f Foxe, T. p. 422. J Ibid.
 
 276 GARKET TAKES REFUGE WITH DALABER. 
 
 
 
 " Perhaps somebody wants me," thought Dalaber. He laid 
 his book aside, opened the door, and to his great surprise 
 saw Garret, who, with alarm in every feature, exclaimed, 
 " I am a lost man ! They have caught me I" Dalaber, who 
 thought his friend was with his brother at Stalbridge, could 
 not conceal his astonishment, and at the same time he cast an 
 uneasy glance on a stranger who accompanied Garret. He 
 was one of the college servants who had led the fugitive 
 curate to Dalaber's new room. As soon as this man had 
 gone away, Garret told Anthony everything : " Observing 
 that Dr Cottisford and his household had gone to prayers, I 
 
 put back the bolt of the lock with my finger and here I 
 
 am." "Alas! Master Garret," replied Dalaber, the im- 
 prudence you committed in speaking to me before that young 
 man has ruined us both !" At these words, Garret, who had 
 resumed his fear of the priests, now that his conscience was 
 satisfied, exclaimed with a voice interrupted by sighs and 
 tears :* " For me.rcy's sake, help me ! Save me !" Without 
 waiting for an answer, he threw off his frock and hood, 
 begged Anthony to give him a sleeved coat, and thus dis- 
 guised, he said : " I will escape into Wales, and from there, 
 if possible, to Germany and Luther." 
 
 Garret checked himself ; there was something to be done 
 before he left. The two friends fell on their knees and prayed 
 together; they called upon God to lead his servant to a 
 secure retreat. That done, they embraced each other, their 
 faces bathed with tears, and unable to utter a word.-}- 
 
 Silent on the threshold of his door, Dalaber followed both 
 with eyes and ears his friend's retreating footsteps. Having 
 heard him reach the bottom of the stairs, he returned to his 
 room, "lock ed the door, took out his New Testament, and 
 placing it before him, read on his knees the tenth chapter of 
 the Gospel of St Matthew, breathing many a heavy sigh : 
 
 Ye shall be brought before governors and kings for my 
 
 sake but fear them not ; the very hairs of your head are 
 
 all numbered. This reading having revived his courage, 
 Anthony, still on his knees, prayed fervently for the fugitive 
 
 * With deep sighs and plenty of tears. Foxe, v. p. 422 
 f That we all bewet both our faces. Ibid. p. 423.
 
 THE MAGNIFICAT. 277 
 
 and for all his brethren : " God, by thy Holy Spirit endue 
 with heavenly strength this tender and new-born little flock 
 in Oxford.* Christ's heavy cross is about to be laid on the 
 weak shoulders of thy poor sheep. Grant that they may- 
 bear it with godly patience and unflinching zeal !" 
 
 Rising from his knees, Dalaber put away his book, folder 
 up Garret's hood and frock, placed them among his o\vn 
 clothes, locked his room-door, and proceeded to the Cardinal': 
 College, (now Christ Church,) to tell Clark and the other 
 brethren what had happened.-}- They were in chapel : the 
 evening service had begun ; the dean and canons, in full 
 oostume, were chanting in the choir. Dalaber stopped at 
 the door listening to the majestic sounds of the organ at 
 which Taverner presided, and to the harmonious strains of 
 the choristers. They were singing the Magnificat : My soul 
 
 doth magnify the Lord lie hathholpen his servant Israel. 
 
 It seemed to Dalaber that they were singing Garret's deliv- 
 erance. But his voice could not join in their song of praise. 
 " Alas !" he exclaimed, " all my singing and music is turned 
 into sighing and musing." J 
 
 As he listened, leaning against the entrance into the choir. 
 Dr Cottisford, the university commissary, arrived with hasty 
 step, " bareheaded, and as pale as ashes." He passed An- 
 thony without noticing him, and going straight to the dean 
 appeared to announce some important and unpleasant news. 
 " I know well the cause of his sorrow," thought Dalaber as 
 he watched every gesture. The commissary had scarcely 
 finished his report when the dean arose, and both left the 
 choir with undisguised confusion. They had only reached 
 the middle of the ante-chapel when Dr London ran in, puf- 
 fing and chafing and stamping, " like a hungry and gfcedy 
 lion seeking his prey." All three stopped, questioned each 
 other, and deplored their misfortune. Their rapid and eager 
 movements indicated the liveliest emotion : London above 
 all could not restrain himself. He attacked the commissary, 
 and blamed him for his negligence, so that at last Cottisford. 
 burst into tears. " Deeds, not tears," said the fanatical 
 
 Foie.v. p. 423. + Ibid. J Ibid. Ibid. p. 424.
 
 278 RAGE OP THE THREE DOCTORS. 
 
 London ; and forthwith they despatched officers and spies 
 along every road. 
 
 Anthony having left the chapel hurried to Clark's to tell 
 him of the escape of his friend. " We are walking in the 
 midst of wolves and tigers," replied Clark ; " prepare for per- 
 secution. Prudentia serpentina et simplicitas columbina (the 
 wisdom of serpents and the harmlessness of doves) must be 
 our motto. God, give us the courage these evil times 
 require." All in the little flock were delighted at Garret's 
 deliverance. Sumner and Betts, who had come in, ran off 
 to tell it to the other brethren in the college, * and Dalaber 
 hastened to Corpus Christi. All these pious young men felt 
 themselves to be soldiers in the same army, travellers in the 
 same company, brothers in the same family. Fraternal love 
 nowhere shone so brightly in the days of the Reformation 
 as among the Christians of Great Britain. This is a feature 
 worthy of notice. 
 
 Fitzjames, Udal, and Diet were met together in the rooms 
 of the latter, at Corpus Christi College, when Dalaber ar- 
 rived. They ate their frugal meal, with downcast eyes and 
 broken voices, conversing of Oxford, of England, and of the 
 perils hanging over them.-]- Then rising from table they fell 
 on their knees, called upon God for aid, and separated, Fitz- 
 james taking Dalaber with him to St Alban's Hall. They 
 were afraid that the servant of Gloucester College had be- 
 trayed him. 
 
 The disciples of the gospel at Oxford passed the night in 
 great anxiety. Garret's flight, the rage of the priests, the 
 dangers of the rising church, the roaring of a storm that 
 filled the air and re-echoed through the long cloisters all 
 impressed them with terror. On Sunday, the llth of Fe- 
 bruary, Dalaber, who was stirring at five in the morning, 
 set out for his room in Gloucester College. Finding the 
 gates shut, he walked up and down beneath the walls in the 
 mud, for it had rained all night. As he paced to and fro 
 along the solitary street in the obscure dawn, a thousand 
 
 To tell unto our other brethren ; (for there were divers else in tha< 
 college.) Foxe, v. p. 424. 
 t Considering onr state and peril nt hand. Ibid.
 
 DALABER'S ALAEM. . 279 
 
 thoughts alarmed his mind. It was known, he said to him- 
 self, that he had taken part in Garret's flight ; he would be 
 arrested, and his friend's escape would be revenged on him.* 
 He was weighed down by sorrow and alarm; he sighed 
 heavily ; -j- he imagined he saw Wolsey's commissioners 
 demanding the names of his accomplices, and pretending to 
 draw up a proscription list at nis dictation ; he recollected 
 that on more than one occasion cruel priests had extorted 
 from the Lollards the names of their brethren, and terrified 
 at the possibility of such a crime, he exclaimed ; " God, I 
 
 swear to thee that I will accuse no man, I will tell 
 
 nothing but what is perfectly well known." J 
 
 At last, after an hour of anguish, he was able to enter the 
 college. He hastened in, but when he tried to open his door, 
 he found that the lock had been picked. The door gave way 
 to a strong push, and what a sight met his eyes ! his bed- 
 stead overturned, the blankets scattered on the floor, his 
 clothes all confusion in his wardrobe, his study broken into 
 and left open. He doubted not that Garret's dress had be- 
 trayed him; and he was gazing at this sad spectacle in alarm, 
 when a monk who occupied the adjoining rooms came and 
 told him what had taken place : " The commissary and two 
 proctors, armed with swords and bills, broke open your door 
 in the middle of the night. They pierced your bed-straw 
 through and through to make sure Garret was not hidden 
 there ; they carefully searched every nook and corner, but 
 were not able to discover any traces of the fugitive." At 
 
 these words Dalaber breathed again but the monk had 
 
 not ended. il I have orders," he added, " to send you to the 
 prior." Anthony Dunstan, the prior, was a fanatical and 
 avaricious monk ; and the confusion into which this mes- 
 sage threw Dalaber was so great, that he went just as he 
 was, all bespattered with mud, to the rooms of his su- 
 perior. 
 
 The prior, who was standing with his face towards the 
 
 * My musing head being full of forecasting cares. Foxe, v. p. 424. 
 
 f My sorrowful heart flowing with doleful sighs. Ibid. 
 
 J I fully determined in my conscience before God that I would accuse 
 no man. Ibid. 
 
 With bills and swords thrusted througfi my bed-straw. Ibid. p. 425.
 
 280 DALABER INTERROGATED PUT TO THE TORTURE. 
 
 door, looked at Dalaber from head to foot as he came in. 
 " Where did you pass the night?" he asked. " At St Al- 
 ban's Hall with Fitzjames." The prior with a gesture of in- 
 credulity continued: "Was not Master Garret with you 
 yesterday?" "Yes." "Where is he now?" "I do not 
 know." During this examination, the prior had remarked a 
 large double gilt silver ring on Anthony's finger, with the 
 initials A. D.* "Show me that," said the prior. Dalaber 
 gave him the ring, and the prior believing it to be of solid 
 gold, put it on his own finger, adding with a cunning leer : 
 " This ring is mine : it bears my name. A is for Anthony, 
 and D for Dunstan." " Would to God," thought Dalaber, 
 " that I were as well delivered from his company, as I am 
 sure of being delivered of my ring." 
 
 At this moment the chief beadle, with two or three of the 
 commissary's men, entered and conducted Dalaber to the 
 chapel of Lincoln College, where three ill-omened figures 
 were standing beside the altar : they were Cottisford, Lon- 
 don, and Higdon. " Where is Garret?" asked London; and 
 pointing to his disordered dress, he continued : " Your shoes 
 and garments covered with mud prove that you have been 
 out all night with him. If you do not say where you have 
 taken him, you will be sent to the Tower." " Yes," added 
 Higdon, " to Little-ease [one of the most horrible dungeons 
 in the prison], and you will be put to the torture, do you 
 hear?" Then the three doctors spent two hours attempting 
 to shake the young man by flattering promises and frightful 
 threats ; but all was useless. The commissary then gave a 
 sign, the officers stepped forward, and the judges ascended 
 a narrow staircase leading to a large room situated above the 
 commissary's chamber. Here Dalaber was deprived of his 
 purse and girdle, and his legs were placed in the stocks, so 
 that his feet were almost as high as his head.-j- When that 
 was done, the three doctors devoutly went to mass. 
 
 Poor Anthony, left alone in this frightful position, recol- 
 lected the warning Clark had given him two years before. 
 
 * Then had he spied on my fore-finger a big ring of silver, very well 
 double-gilted. Foxe, v. p. 425. 
 t Ibid. p. 426
 
 GAF.RET AND OTHERS IMPRISONED. 281 
 
 He groaned heavily and cried to God:* "0 Father! that 
 my suffering may be for thy glory, and for the consolation of 
 my brethren ! Happen what may, I will never accuse one 
 of them." After this noble protest, Anthony felt an increase 
 of peace in his heart ; but a new sorrow was reserved for 
 him. 
 
 Garret, who had directed his course westwards, with the 
 intention of going to Wales, had been caught at Hinksey, a 
 short distance from Oxford. He was brought back, and 
 thrown into the dungeon in which Dalaber had been placed 
 after the torture. Their gloomy presentiments were to be 
 more than fulfilled. 
 
 In fact Wolscy was deeply irritated at seeing the college 
 [Christ Church], which he had intended should be " the most 
 glorious in the world," made the haunt of heresy, and the 
 young men, whom he had so carefully chosen, become dis- 
 tributors of the New Testament. By favouring literature, 
 he had had in view the triumph of the clergy, and literature 
 had on the contrary served to the triumph of the gospel. He 
 issued his orders without delay, and the university was 
 filled with terror. John Clark, John Fryth, Henry Sumner, 
 William Betts, Richard Taverner, Richard Cox, Michael 
 Drumm, Godfrey Harman, Thomas Lawney, Radley, and 
 others besides of Cardinal's College ; Udal, Diet, and others 
 of Corpus Christi ; Eden and several of his friends of Mag- 
 dalene; Goodman, William Bayley, Robert Ferrar, John 
 Salisbury of Gloucester, Barnard, and St Mary's Colleges ; 
 were seized and thrown into prison. Wolsey had promised 
 them glory; he gave them a dungeon, hoping in this man- 
 ner to save the power of the priests,, and to repress that 
 awakening of truth and liberty which was spreading from 
 the continent to England. 
 
 Under Cardinal's College there was a deep cellar sunk in 
 the earth, in which the butler kept his salt fish. Into tin's 
 hole these young men, the choice of England, were thrust. 
 The dampness of this cave, the corrupted air they breathed, 
 the horrible smell given out by the fish, seriously affected 
 the prisoners, already weakened by study. Their hearts were 
 
 Foxe, v. p. 427. 
 VOL. V. 13
 
 282 CONDEMNATION AND HUMILIATION. 
 
 bursting with groans, their faith was shaken, and the most 
 mournful scenes followed each other in this foul dungeon. 
 The wretched captives gazed on one another, wept, and 
 prayed. This trial was destined to be a salutary one to 
 them: "Alas!" said Fryth on a subsequent occasion, *' I 
 see that besides the word of God, there is indeed a second 
 
 purgatory but it is not that invented by Rome ; it is the 
 
 cross of tribulation to which God has nailed us."* 
 
 At last the prisoners were taken out one by one and 
 brought before their judges ; two only were released. The 
 first was Betts, afterwards chaplain to Anne Boleyn : they 
 had not been able to find any prohibited books in his room, 
 and he pleaded his cause with great talent. The other was 
 Taveruer; he had hidden Clark's books under his school-room 
 floor, where they had been discovered ; but his love for the 
 arts saved him : " Pshaw ! he is only a musician," said the 
 cardinal. 
 
 All the rest were condemned. A great fire was kindled 
 at the top of the market-place ;f a long procession was mar- 
 shalled, and these unfortunate men were led out, each bear- 
 ing a fagot. When they came near the fire, they were com- 
 pelled to throw into it the heretical books that had been 
 found in their rooms, after which they were taken back to 
 their noisome prison. There seemed to be a barbarous plea- 
 sure in treating these young and generous men so vilely. 
 In other countries also, Rome was preparing to stifle in the 
 flames the noblest geniuses of France, Spain, and Italy. 
 Such was the reception letters and the gospel met with from 
 popery in the sixteenth century. Every plant of God's must 
 be beaten by the wind, even at the risk of its being uprooted ; 
 if it receives only the gentle rays of the sun, there is reason 
 to fear that it will dry up and wither before it produces fruit. 
 Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it alideth 
 alone. There was to arise one day a real church in England, 
 for the persecution had begun. 
 
 We have to contemplate still further trials. 
 
 * God naileth us to the cross to heal our infirmities. Tyndale and 
 Fryth's Works, iii. p. 91 (ed. Russell). 
 
 t There was made a great fire upon the top of Carfax. Foxe, v. 
 p. 428.
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 283 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Persecution at Cambridge Barnes arrested A grand Search Barnes 
 at Wolsey's Palace Interrogated by the Cardinal Conversation be- 
 tween Wolsey and Barnes Barnes threatened with the Stake His 
 Fall and public Penance Richard Bayfield His Faith and Imprison- 
 ment Visits Cambridge Joins Tyndale -The Confessors in the Cellar 
 at Oxford Four of them die The rest liberated. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, which had produced Latimer, Bilney, Stafford, 
 and Barnes, had at first appeared to occupy the front rank 
 in the English reformation. Oxford by receiving the crown 
 of persecution seemed now to have outstripped the sister 
 university. And yet Cambridge was to have its share of 
 suffering. The investigation had begun at Oxford on Mon- 
 day the oth of February, and on the very same day two of 
 Wolsey's creatures, Dr Capon, one of his chaplains, and 
 Gibson, a sergeant-at-arms, notorious for his arrogance, left 
 London for Cambridge. Submission, was the pass-word of 
 popery. " Yes, submission," was responded from every part 
 of Christendom by men of sincere piety and profound under- 
 standing ; " submission to the legitimate authority against 
 which Roman-catholicism has rebelled." According to their 
 views the traditionalism and pelagianism of the Romish 
 church had set up the supremacy of fallen reason in opposi- 
 tion to the divine supremacy of the word and of grace. The 
 external and apparent sacrifice of self which Roman-catholi- 
 cism imposes, obedience to a confessor or to the pope, ar- 
 bitrary penance, ascetic practices, and celibacy, only served 
 to create, and so to strengthen and perpetuate, a delusion as 
 to the egotistic preservation of a sinful personality. When 
 the Reformation proclaimed liberty, so far as regarded or- 
 dinances of human invention, it was with the view of .bring- 
 ing man's heart and life into subjection to their real Sove- 
 reign. The reign of God was commencing; that of the priests 
 must needs come to an end. No man can serve two masters.
 
 284 SEARCH FOR THE HERETICAL BOOKS. 
 
 Such were the important truths which gradually dawned 
 upon the world, and which it became necessary to extinguish 
 without delay. 
 
 On the day after their arrival in Cambridge, on Tuesday 
 the 6th of February, Capon and Gibson went to the convo- 
 cation house, where several of the doctors -were talking to- 
 gether. Their appearance caused some anxiety among the 
 spectators, who looked upon the strangers with distrust. 
 On a sudden Gibson moved forward, put his hand on Barnes, 
 and arrested him in the presence of his friends.* The latter 
 were frightened, and this was what the sergeant wanted. 
 "What!" said they, "the prior of the Augustines, the re- 
 storer of letters in Cambridge, arrested by a sergeant-!" This 
 was not all. Wolsey's agents were to seize the books come 
 from Germany, and their owners ; Bilney, Latimer, Stafford, 
 Arthur, and their friends, were all to be imprisoned, for they 
 possessed the New Testament. Thirty members of the uni- 
 versity were pointed out as suspected ; and some miserable 
 wretches, who had been bribed by the inquisitors, offered to 
 show the place in every room where the prohibited books 
 were hidden. But while the necessary preparations were 
 making for this search, Bilney, Latimer, and their colleagues 
 being warned in time, got the books removed ; they were 
 taken away not only by the doors but by the windows, even 
 by the roofs, and anxious inquiry was made for sure places 
 in which they could be concealed. 
 
 This work was hardly ended, when the vice-chancellor 01 
 the university, the sergeant-at-arms, Wolsey's chaplain, the 
 proctors, and the informers began their rounds. They opened 
 the first room, entered, searched, and found nothing. They 
 passed on to the second, there was nothing. The sergeant 
 was astonished, and grew angry. On reaching the third 
 room, he ran directly to the place that had been pointed out, 
 still there was nothing. The same thing occurred every- 
 where ; never was inquisitor more mortified. He dared not 
 lay hftnds on the persons of the evangelical doctors ; his or- 
 ders bore that he was to seize the books and their owners. 
 
 " Suddenly arrested Barnes openly ia the convocation house to make 
 all others afraid. Foxc, v. p. 416.
 
 BARNES IN WOLSEY*S PALACE. 85 
 
 13ut as no books were found, there could be no prisoners. 
 Luckily there was one man (the prior of the Augustines) 
 against whom there were particular charges. The sergeant 
 promised to compensate himself at Barnes's expense for his 
 useless labours. 
 
 The next day Gibson and Capon set out for London with 
 Barnes. During this mournful journey the prior, in great 
 agitation, at one time determined to brave all England, and 
 at another trembled like a leaf. At last their journey was 
 ended ; the chaplain left his prisoner at Parnell's house, 
 close by the stocks.* Three students (Coverdale, Goodwin, 
 and Field) had followed their master to cheer him with their 
 tender affection. 
 
 On Thursday (8th February) the sergeant conducted 
 Barnes to the cardinal's palace at Westminster ; the wretched 
 prior, whose enthusiasm had given way to dejection, waited 
 all day before he could be admitted. What a day ! 
 Will no one come to his assistance? Doctor Gardiner, 
 Wolsey's secretary, and Fox, his steward, both old friends 
 of Barnes, passed through the gallery in the evening, and 
 went up to the prisoner, who begged them to procure 
 him an audience with the cardinal. When night had come, 
 these officers introduced the prior into the room where their 
 master was sitting, and Barnes, as was customary, fell on his 
 knees before him. " Is this the Doctor Barnes who is ac- 
 cused of heresy?" asked Wolsey, in a haughty tone, of Fox 
 and Gardiner. They replied in the affirmative. The car- 
 dinal then turning to Barnes, who was still kneeling, said to 
 him ironically, and not without reason : " What, master 
 doctor, had you not sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach 
 the people ; but my golden shoes, my poleaxes, my pillars, 
 my golden cushions, my crosses, did so sore offend you, that 
 you must make us a laughing-stock, ridiculum caput, 
 amongst the people ? We were jollily that day laughed to 
 scorn. Verily it was a sermon more fit to be preached on a 
 stage than in a pulpit; for at the last you said I wore a 
 pair of red gloves I should say bloody gloves (quoth you) 
 
 Eh ! what think you, master doctor? " Barnes, wishing 
 
 Foie, v. p. 416.
 
 286 INTERROGATED BY THE CARDINAL. ' 
 
 to elude these embarrassing questions, answered vaguely : 
 " I spoke nothing hut the truth out of the Scriptures, accord- 
 ing to my conscience and according to the old doctors.'' 
 He then presented to the cardinal a statement of his teach- 
 ing. 
 
 Wolsey received the papers with a smile : " Oh, ho!" said 
 he as he counted the six sheets, " I perceive you intend to 
 stand to your articles and to show your learning." " With 
 the grace of God," said Barnes. Wolsey then began to read 
 them, and stopped at the sixth article, which ran thus : " I 
 will never believe that one man may, by the law of God, be 
 bishop of two or three cities, yea, of a whole country, for it 
 is contrary to St Paul, who saith : / have left thee behind, to 
 set in every city a bishop." Barnes did not quote correctly, 
 for the apostle says : " to ordain elders in every city."* 
 Wolsey was displeased at this thesis : " Ah ! this touches 
 me," he said : " Do you think it wrong (seeing the ordinance 
 of the church) that one bishop should have so many cities 
 underneath him?" " I know of no ordinance of the church," 
 Barnes replied, " as concerning this thing, but Paul's saying 
 only." 
 
 Although this controversy interested the cardinal, the 
 personal attack of which he had to complain touched him 
 more keenly. " Good," said Wolsey ; and then with a con- 
 descension hardly to be expected from so proud a man, he 
 deigned almost to justify himself. " You charge me with 
 displaying a royal pomp ; but do you not understand that, 
 being called to represent his majesty, I must strive by these 
 means to strike terror into the wicked?" "It is not your 
 porno or your poleaxes," Barnes courageously answered, 
 
 " that will save the king's person God will save him, 
 
 who said : Per me rcges regnant." Barnes, instead of pro- 
 fiting by the cardinal's kindness to present an humble justi- 
 fication, as Dean Colet had formerly done to Henry VIII. 
 dared preach him a second sermon to his face. Wolsey fel-t 
 the colour mount to his cheeks. " Well, gentlemen," said 
 he, turning to Fox and Gardiner, " you hear him ! Is this 
 the wise and learned man of whom you spoke to me?" 
 
 * K} Kraff-rnirr.s Kara, ir'o\it rjs<rCi/Tjst>f. Titus i. 5.
 
 BARNES FAIJLS. 287 
 
 At these words both steward and secretary fell on their 
 kr.ees, saying : " My lord, pardon him for mercy's sake." 
 " Can you find ten or even six doctors of divinity willing to 
 gwear that you are free from heresy?" asked Wolsey. 
 Barnes offered twenty honest men, quite as learned as him- 
 self, or even more so. " I must have doctors in divinity, 
 men as old as yourself." " That is impossible," said the 
 prior. " In that case you must be burnt," continued the 
 cardinal. "Let him be taken to the Tower." Gardiner 
 and Fox offering to become his sureties, "Wolsey permitted 
 him to pass the night at Parnell's. 
 
 " It is no time to think of sleeping," said Barnes as he 
 entered the house, " we must write." Those harsh and 
 terrible words, you must be burnt, resounded continually in 
 his ears. He dictated all night to his three young friends a 
 defence of his articles. 
 
 The next day he was taken before the chapter, at which 
 Clarke, bishop of Bath, Standish, and other d6ctors were 
 present His judges laid before him a long statement, and 
 said to him : " Promise to read this paper in public, without 
 omitting or adding a single word." It was then read to him 
 " would die first," was his reply. " Will you abjure or be 
 burnt alive?" said his judges ; "take your choice." The 
 alternative was dreadful. Poor Barnes, a prey to the 
 deepest agony, shrank at the thought of the stake; then, 
 suddenly his courage revived, and he exclaimed : " I would 
 rather be burnt than abjure." Gardiner and Fox did all they 
 could to persuade him. " Listen to reason," said they 
 craftily : " your articles are true ; that is not the question. 
 \Ve want to know whether by your death you will let 
 error triumph, or whether you would rather remain to defend 
 the truth, when better days may come." 
 
 They entreated him ; they put forward the most plausible 
 motives ; from time to time they uttered the terrible words 
 burnt alive ! His blood froze in his veins ; he knew not 
 
 what he said or did they placed a paper before him 
 
 they put a pen in his hand his head was bewildered, he 
 signed his name with a deep sigh. This unhappy man was 
 destined at a later period to be a faithful martyr of Jesus
 
 288 PUBLIC PENANCE OF BARNES. 
 
 Christ; but he had not yet learnt to "resist even unto 
 blood." Barnes had fallen. 
 
 On the following morning (Sunday, llth February) a 
 solemn spectacle was preparing at St Paul's. Before day- 
 break, all were astir in the prison of the poor prior ; and at 
 eight o'clock, the knight-marshal with his tipstaves, and the 
 warden of the Fleet prison with his billmen, conducted 
 Barnes to St Paul's, along with four of the Hanse mer- 
 chants who had first brought to London the New Testament 
 of Jesus Christ in English. The fifth of these pious mer- 
 chants held an immense taper in his hands. A persevering 
 search had discovered that it was these men to whom Eng- 
 land Avas indebted for the so much dreaded book ; their 
 warehouses were surrounded and their persons arrested. 
 On the top of St Paul's steps was a platform, and on the 
 platform a throne, and on the throne the cardinal, dressed in 
 scarlet like a " bloody antichrist," says the chronicler. On 
 his head glittered the hat of which Barnes had spoken so 
 ill ; around him were thirty-six bishops, abbots, priors, and 
 all his doctors, dressed in damask and satin ; the vast cathe- 
 dral was full. The bishop of Rochester having gone into a 
 pulpit placed at the top of the steps, Barnes and the mer- 
 chants, each bearing a fagot, were compelled to kneel and 
 listen to a sermon intended to cure these poor creatures of 
 that taste for insurrection against popery which was begin- 
 ning to spread in every quarter. The sermon ended, the 
 cardinal mounted his mule, took his station under a magni- 
 ficent canopy, and rode off. After this Barnes and his five 
 companions walked three times round a fire, lighted before 
 the cross at the north gate of the cathedral. The dejected 
 prior, with downcast head, dragged himself along, rather 
 than walked. After the third turn, the prisoners threw 
 their fagots into the flames; some "heretical" books also 
 were flung in ; and the bishop of Rochester having given 
 absolution to the six penitents, they were led back to 
 prison to be kept there during the lord cardinal's pleasure. 
 Barnes could not weep now ; the thought of his relapse, and 
 of the effects so guilty an example might produce, had de- 
 prived him of all moral energy. In the month of August,
 
 THE MONK OF BURY. 289 
 
 be was led out of prison and confined in the Augustine con- 
 vent. 
 
 Barnes was not the only man at Cambridge upon whom 
 the blow had fallen. Since the year 1520, a monk named 
 Richard Bayfield had been an inmate of the abbey of 'Bury 
 St Edmunds. His affability delighted every traveller. One 
 day, when engaged as chamberlain in receiving Barnes, who 
 had come to visit Dr Ruffam, his fellow-student at Lou- 
 vain, two men entered the convent. They were pious per- 
 sons, and of great consideration in London, where they 
 carried on the occupation of brick making, and had risen to 
 be wardens of their guild. Their names were Maxwell and 
 Stacy, men " well grafted in the doctrine of Christ," says the 
 historian, who had led many to the Saviour by their con- 
 ^ersation and exemplary life. Being accustomed to travel 
 :nce a-year through the counties to visit their brethren, and 
 extend a knowledge of the gospel, they used to lodge, ac- 
 cording to the usages of the time, in the convents and 
 abbeys. A conversation soon arose between Barnes, Stacy, 
 and Maxwell, which struck the lay-brother. Barnes, who 
 had observed his attention, gave him, as lie was leaving the 
 convent, a New Testament in Latin, and the two brick- 
 makers added a New Testament in English, with The 
 Wicked Mammon, and The Obedience of a Christian Man. 
 The lay-brother ran and hid the books in his cell, and for 
 two years read them constantly. At last he was discovered, 
 and reprimanded ; but he boldly confessed his faith. Upon 
 this the monks threw him into prison, set him in the stocks, 
 put a gag in his mouth, and cruelly whipped him, to pre- 
 vent his speaking of grace.* The unhappy Bayfield re- 
 mained nine months in this condition. 
 
 When Barnes repeated his visit to Bury at a later period, 
 he did not find the amiable chamberlain at the gates of the 
 abbey. Upon inquiry he learnt his condition, and imme- 
 diately took steps to procure his deliverance. Dr Ruffam 
 came to his aid : " Give him to me," said Barnes, " I will 
 take him to Cambridge." The prior of the Augustines was at 
 that time held in high esteem ; his request was granted, in 
 * Foxe, iv. p. 681. 
 13*
 
 290 PERSECUTION AT OXFORD. 
 
 the hope that he would lead back Bayfield to the doctrines 
 of the church. But the very reverse took place : intercourse 
 with the Cambridge brethren strengthened the young monk's 
 faith. On a sudden his happiness vanished. Barnes, his 
 friend and benefactor, was carried to London, and the monks 
 of Bury St Edmunds, alarmed at the noise this affair created, 
 summoned him to return to the abbey. But Bayfield, re- 
 solving to submit to their yoke no longer went to London, 
 and lay concealed at Maxwell and Stacy's. One day, having 
 left his hiding-place, he was crossing Lombard street, when 
 he met a priest named Pierson and two other religious of 
 his order, with whom he entered into a conversation which 
 greatly scandalized them. " You must depart forthwith," 
 said Maxwell and Stacy to him on his return. Bayfield 
 received a small sum of money from them, went on board a 
 ship, and as soon as he reached the continent, hastened to 
 find Tyndale. During this time scenes of a very different 
 nature from those which had taken place at Cambridge, but 
 not less heartrending, were passing at Oxford. 
 
 The storm of persecution was raging there with more vio- 
 lence than at Cambridge. Clark and the other confessors of 
 the name of Christ were still confined in their under-ground 
 prison. The air they breathed, the food they took (and they 
 ate nothing but salt fish*), the burning thirst this created, 
 the thoughts by which they were agitated, all together com- 
 bined to crush these noble-hearted men. Their bodies 
 wasted day by day; they wandered like spectres up and 
 down their gloomy cellar. Those animated discussions in 
 which the deep questions then convulsing Christendom were 
 so eloquently debated were at an end ; they were like shadow 
 meeting shadow. Their hollow eyes cast a vague and hag- 
 gard glance on one another, and after gazing for a moment 
 they passed on without speaking. Clark, Sumner, Bayley, 
 and Goodman, consumed by fever, feebly crawled along, lean- 
 ing against their dungeon walls. The first, who was also the 
 eldest, could not walk without the support of one of his fel- 
 low-prisoners. Soon he was quite unable to move, and lay 
 stretched upon the damp floor. The brethren gathered round 
 * Fox* T. p. 5.
 
 THE CONFESSORS IN THE CELLAR AT OXFORD. 291 
 
 him, sought to discover in his features whether death was 
 not about to cut short the days of him who had brought 
 many of them to the knowledge of Christ. They repeated 
 to him slowly the words of Scripture, and then knelt down 
 by his side and uttered a fervent prayer. 
 
 Clark, feeling his end draw near, asked for the commun- 
 ion. The jailers conveyed his request to their master ; the 
 noise of the bolts was soon heard, and a turnkey, stepping 
 into the midst of the disconsolate band, pronounced a cruel 
 no .' * On hearing this, Clark looked towards heaven, and 
 exclaimed with a father of the church : Crede et manducasti, 
 Believe and thou hast eaten. 7 He was lost in thought : he 
 contemplated the crucified Son of God ; by faith he ate and 
 drank the flesh and blood of Christ, and experienced in his 
 inner life the strengthening action of the Redeemer. Men 
 might refuse him the host, but Jesus had given him his 
 body ; and from that hour he felt strengthened by a living 
 union with the King of heaven. 
 
 Not alone did Clark descend into the shadowy valley: 
 Sumner, Bayley, and Goodman were sinking rapidly. Death, 
 the gloomy inhabitant of this foul prison, had taken posses- 
 sion of these four friends. J: Their brethren addressed fresh 
 solicitations to the cardinal, at that time closely occupied 
 in negotiations with France, Rome, and Venice. He found 
 means, however, to give a moment to the Oxford martyrs ; 
 and just as these Christians were praying over their four 
 dying companions, the commissioner came and informed 
 them, that " his lordship, of his great goodness, permitted 
 the sick persons to be removed to their own chambers." 
 Litters were brought, on which the dying men were placed 
 and carried to their rooms ; j| the doors were closed again 
 upon those whose lives this frightful dungeon had not yet 
 attacked. 
 
 It was the middle of August. The wretched men who 
 
 * Not be suffered to receive the communion, being in prison. Foxo, 
 v. p. 428. 
 
 t Ibid. Habe fidem et tecum est quern non vides, says Augustine in 
 another place. See Senn. 235, 272. Tract. 26, Evan. Joh. 
 
 J Taking their death in the same prison. Foxe, v. p. 5. 
 
 State Papers, i. p. 169. || Foxe, v. p. 6.
 
 292 DEATH OF FOUR PRISONERS THE OTHERS SET AT LIBERTY. 
 
 had passed six months in the cellar were transported in vain 
 to their chambers and their beds ; several members of the 
 university ineffectually tried by their cares and their tender 
 charity to recall them to life. It was too late. The severi- 
 ties of popery had killed these noble witnesses. The ap- 
 proach of death soon betrayed itself ; their blood grew cold, 
 their limbs stiff, and their bedimmed eyes sought only Jesus 
 Christ, their everlasting hope. Clark, Sumner, and Bayley 
 died in the same week. Goodman followed close upon 
 them.* 
 
 This unexpected catastrophe softened Wolsey. He was 
 cruel only as far as his interest and the safety of the church 
 required. He feared that the death of so many young 
 men would raise public opinion against him, or that these 
 catastrophes would damage his college ; perhaps even some 
 sentiment of humanity may have touched his heart. " Set 
 the rest at liberty," he wrote to his agents, " but upon con- 
 dition that they do not go above ten miles from Oxford." 
 The university beheld these young men issue from their 
 living tomb pale, wasted, weak, and with faltering steps. 
 At that time they were not men of mark ; it was their youth 
 that touched the spectators' hearts ; but in after-years they 
 all occupied an important place in the church. They were 
 Cox, who became bishop of Ely, and tutor to Edward the 
 Prince Royal ; Drumm, who under Cranmer became one of 
 the six preachers at Canterbury ; Udal, afterwards master 
 of Westminster and Eton schools ; Salisbury, dean of Nor- 
 wich, and then bishop of Sodor and Man, who in all his 
 wealth and greatness often recalled his frightful prison at 
 Oxford as a title to glory ; Ferrar, afterwards Cranmer's 
 chaplain, bishop of St David's, and a martyr even unto 
 death, after an interval of thirty years ; Fryth, Tyndale's 
 friend, to whom this deliverance proved only a delay ; and 
 several others. When they came forth from their terrible 
 dungeon, their friends ran up to them, supported their fal- 
 tering steps, and embraced them amidst floods of tears. 
 Fryth quitted the university not long after and went to 
 
 * Foxe, T. p. 5.
 
 LUTHER'S LETTER TO THE KING HENRY'S WRATH. 293 
 
 Flanders.* Thus was the tempest stayed which had so 
 fearfully ravaged Oxford. But the calm was of no long 
 duration ; an unexpected circumstance became perilous to 
 the cause of the Reformation. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 
 
 Luther's Letter to the King Henry's Anger His Reply Luther's Re- 
 solution Persecutions Barnea escapes Proclamations against the 
 New Testament W. Roy to Caiaphas Third Edition of the New 
 Testament The Triumph of Law and Liberty Hackett attacks the 
 Printer Hackett's Complaints A Seizure The Year 1526 in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 HENRY was still under the impression of the famous Suppli- 
 cation of the Beggars, when Luther's interference increased 
 his anger. The letter which, at the advice of Christiern, 
 king of Denmark, this reformer had written to him in Sep- 
 tember 1525, had miscarried. The Wittemberg doctor hear- 
 ing nothing of it, had boldly printed it, and sent a copy to 
 the king. " I am informed," said Luther, " that your Ma- 
 jesty is beginning to favour the gospel, f and to be disgusted 
 with the perverse race that fights against it in your noble 
 
 kingdom It is true that, according to Scripture, the kings 
 
 of the earth take counsel together against the Lord, and we 
 cannot, 'consequently, expect to see them favourable to the 
 truth. How fervently do I wish that this miracle may be 
 accomplished in the person of your Majesty." J 
 
 We may imagine Henry's wrath as he read this letter. 
 " What ! " said he, " does this apostate monk dare print a 
 letter addressed to us, without having even sent it, or at the 
 
 Tyndale and Fryth's Works, iii. p. 75 (edit. Russell), 
 f Majestatem tuam ctepisse fayere Evangelio. Cochla-us. p. 136. 
 t Huic miraculo in Majestate tua quam opto ex totis me'lullis. Ibid, 
 p. 127.
 
 294 HENRY'S REPLY. 
 
 least without knowing if we have ever received it? And 
 
 as if that were not enough, he insinuates that we are among 
 
 his partisans He wins over also one or two wretches, 
 
 born in our kingdom, and engages them to translate the 
 New Testament into English, adding thereto certain pre- 
 faces and poisonous glosses." Thus spoke Henry. The idea 
 that' his name should be associated with that of the Wittem- 
 berg monk called all the blood into his face. He will reply 
 right royally to such unblushing impudence. He summoned 
 Wolsey forthwith. " Here ! " said he, pointing to a passage 
 concerning the prelate, " here ! read what is said of you ! " 
 And then he read aloud : " Illud monstrum et publicum odium 
 Dei et hominum, cardinalis Eboracensis, pestis ilia regni tui. 
 You see, my lord, you are a monster, an object of hatred 
 both to God and man, the scourge of my kingdom!" The 
 king had hitherto allowed the bishops to do as they pleased, 
 and observed a sort of neutrality. He now determined to 
 lay it aside and begin a crusade against the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ, but he must first answer this impertinent letter. He 
 consulted Sir Thomas More, shut himself in his closet, and 
 dictated to his secretary a reply to the reformer : " You are 
 ashamed of the book you have written against me," he said, 
 " I would counsel you to be ashamed of all that you have 
 written. They are full of disgusting errors and frantic 
 heresies ; and are supported by the most audacious obsti- 
 nacy. Your venomous pen mocks the church, insults the 
 fathers, abuses the saints, despises the apostles, dishonours 
 the holy virgin, and blasphemes God, by making him the 
 
 author of evil And after all that, you claim to be an 
 
 author whose like does not exist in the world." * 
 
 " You offer to publish a book in my praise I thank you 1 
 
 You will praise me most by abusing me ; you will dis- 
 honour me beyond measure if you praise me. I say with 
 Seneca : Tarn turpe tibi sit laudari a turpibus, quam si lau- 
 deris ob turpia."-^ 
 
 * Tantus autor haberi postulas, quantus nee hodic quisquam sit. Coch- 
 Iseus, p. 127. 
 
 t Let it be as disgraceful to you to be praised by the vile, as if you 
 wore praised for vih deeds.
 
 LUTHER'S FIRMNESS. 295 
 
 This letter, -written by the Icing of the English to the Icing 
 of the heretics* was immediately circulated throughout Eng- 
 land bound up with Luther's epistle. Henry, by publishing 
 it, put his subjects on their guard against the unfaithful 
 translations of the New Testament, which were besides 
 about to be burnt everywhere. " The grapes seem beauti- 
 ful," he said, " but beware how you wet your lips with the 
 wine made from them, for the adversary hath mingled poison 
 with it." 
 
 Luther, agitated by this rude lesson, tried to excuse him- 
 self. " I said to myself, There are twelve hours in the day. 
 Who knows ? perhaps I may find one lucky hour to gain 
 the king of England. I therefore laid my humble epistle 
 at his feet ; but alas ! the swine have torn it. I am willing 
 
 to be silent but as regards my doctrine, I cannot impose 
 
 silence on it. It must cry aloud, it must bite. If any king 
 imagines he can make me retract my faith, he is a dreamer. 
 So long as one drop of blood remains in my body, I shall 
 say NO. Emperors, kings, the devil, and even the whole 
 universe, cannot frighten me when faith is concerned. I 
 claim to be proud, very proud, exceedingly proud. If my 
 doctrine had no other enemies than the king of England, 
 Duke George, the pope and their allies, all these soap- 
 bubbles one little prayer would long ago have worsted 
 
 them all. Where are Pilate, Herod, and Caiaphas now ? 
 Where are Nero, Domitian, and Maximilian ? Where are 
 
 Arius, Pelagius, and Manes? Where are they? Where 
 
 all our scribes and all our tyrants will soon be. But Christ ? 
 Christ is the same always. 
 
 " For a thousand years the Holy Scriptures have not 
 shone in the world with so much brightness as now.-|- I wait 
 in peace for my last hour ; I have done what I could. 
 princes, my hands are clean from your blood ; it will fall on 
 your own heads." 
 
 Bowing before the supreme royalty of Jesus Christ, Luther 
 
 * Rex Anglorum Regi haereticornm scribit. Strype, Mem. i. p. 91. 
 The title of the pamphlet was Litterarvm quibus inmctus Pr. Henrietta 
 VIII. etc. etc . respondit ad qnandam Epistolam M. Luihcri ad se missani. 
 
 f Als in t&nsend Jahren nicht gewesen ist. Lnth. Opp. zix. p. 501
 
 296 PERSECUTIONS. 
 
 spoke thus boldly to King Henry, who contested the rights of 
 the word of God. 
 
 A letter written against the reformer was not enough for 
 the bishops. Profiting by the wound Luther had inflicted 
 on Henry's self-esteem, they urged him to put down this 
 revolt of the human understanding, which threatened (as they 
 averred) both the popedom and the monarchy. They com- 
 menced the persecution. Latimer was summoned before 
 Wolsey, but his learning and presence of mind procured his 
 dismissal. Bilney also, who had been ordered to London, 
 received an injunction not to preach Luther's doctrines. " I 
 will not preach Luther's doctrines, if there are any pecu- 
 liar to him," he said ; " but I can and I must preach the 
 doctrine of Jesus Christ, although Luther should preach it 
 too." And finally Garret, led into the presence of his 'judges, 
 was seized with terror, and fell before the cruel threats of the 
 bishop. When restored to liberty, he fled from place to 
 place,* endeavouring to hide his sorrow, and to escape from 
 the despotism of the priests, awaiting the moment when he 
 should give his life for Jesus Christ. 
 
 The adversaries of the Reformation were not yet satisfied. 
 The New Testament continued to circulate, and depots were 
 formed in several convents. Barnes, a prisoner in the Au- 
 gustine monastery in London, had regained his courage, and 
 loved his Bible more and more. One day about the end of 
 September, as three or four friends were reading in his 
 chamber, two simple peasants, John Tyball and Thomas 
 Hilles, natives of Bumpstead in Essex, came in. " How 
 did you come to a knowledge of the truth ? " asked Barnes. 
 They drew from their pockets some old volumes containing 
 the Gospels, and a few of the Epistles in English. Barnes 
 returned them with a smile. " They are nothing," he told 
 them, " in comparison with the new edition of the New Tes- 
 tament,"-}- a copy of which the two peasants bought for three 
 shillings and twopence. " Hide it carefully," said Barnes. 
 When this came to the ears of the clergy, Barnes was rc- 
 
 * Foxe, v. p. 428. 
 
 t Which books he did little regard, and made a twit of it. Tybali's 
 Confession in Bible Annals, i. p. 184.
 
 BARNES ESCAPES ROY's SATIRE. 207 
 
 moved to Northampton to be burnt at the stake ; but he 
 managed to escape ; his friends reported that he was 
 drowned ; and while strict search was making for him 
 during a whole week along the seacoast, he secretly went 
 on board a ship, and was carried to Germany. " The car- 
 dinal will catch him even now," said the bishop of London, 
 "whatever amount of money it iray cost him." When 
 Barnes was told of this, he remarkec : " I am a poor simple 
 wretch, not worth the tenth penny they will give for me. 
 
 Besides, if they burn me, what will they gain by it? 
 
 The sun and the moon, fire and water, the stars and the ele- 
 ments yea, and also stones shall defend this cause against 
 them, rather than the truth should perish" Faith had re- 
 turned to Barnes's feeble heart. 
 
 His escape added fuel to the wrath of the clergy. They 
 proclaimed, throughout the length and breadth of England, 
 that the Holy Scriptures contained an infectious poison,* 
 and ordered a general search after the word of God. On the 
 24th of October 1526, the bishop of London enjoined on his 
 archdeacons to seize all translations of the New Testament 
 in English with or without glosses ; and, a few days later, 
 the archbishop of Canterbury issued a mandate against all 
 the books which should contain " any particle of the New 
 Testament."f The primate remembered that a spark was 
 sufficient to kindle a large fire. 
 
 On hearing of this order, William Roy, a sarcastic writer, 
 published a violent satire, in which figured Judas (Standish), 
 Pilate (Wolsey), and Caiaphas (Tonstall). The author 
 exclaimed with energy : 
 
 God, of his goodness, grudged not to die, 
 
 Man to deliver from deadly damnation ; 
 Whose will is, that we should know perfectly 
 
 What he here hath done for our salvation. 
 
 O cruel Caiaphas ! full of crafty conspiration, 
 How durst thou give them false judgment 
 To burn God's word the Holy Testament. 
 
 * Libri pestiferum virus in re continentes, in promiscuam provincue 
 Cant, multitudinem sunt disporsi Wilkius, Concilia, iii. p. 706. 
 + Vel aliqnam ejus particular. Ibid. 
 
 J Satire of W. Roy, p-i.ii ted u the Harl. Misc. vol. is. p. 77, (ed. 180K). 
 
 N 2
 
 298 THIRD EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 The efforts of Caiaphas and his colleagues were indeed 
 useless : the priests were undertaking a work beyond their 
 strength. If by some terrible revolution all social forms 
 should be destroyed in the world, the living church of the 
 elect, a divine institution in the midst of human institutions, 
 would still exist by the power of God, like a rock in the 
 midst of the tempest, and would transmit to future genera- 
 tions the seeds of Christian life and civilisation. It is the 
 same with the word, the creative principle of the church. 
 It cannot perish here below. The priests of England had 
 something to learn on this matter. 
 
 While the agents of the clergy were carrying out the 
 archiepiscopal mandate, and a merciless search was making 
 everywhere for the New Testaments from Worms, a new 
 edition was discovered, fresh from the press, of a smaller and 
 more portable, and consequently more dangerous size. It 
 was printed by Christopher Eyndhoven of Antwerp, who 
 had consigned it to his correspondents in London. The 
 annoyance of the priests was extreme, and Hackett, tile 
 agent of Henry VIII. in the Low Countries, immediately 
 received orders to get this man punished. " We cannot 
 deliver judgment without inquiry into the matter," said the 
 lords of Antwerp ; " we will therefore have the book trans- 
 lated into Flemish." " God forbid," said Hackett in alarm, 
 " What ! would you also on your side of the ocean translate 
 this book into the language of the people ?" "Well then," 
 said one of the judges, less conscientious than his colleagues, 
 " let the king of England send us a copy of each of the books 
 he has burnt, and we will burn them likewise." Hackett 
 wrote to Wolsey for them, and as soon as they arrived the 
 court met again. Eyndhoven's counsel called upon the pro- 
 secutor to point out the heresies contained in the volume. 
 The margrave (an officer of the imperial government) shrank 
 from the task, and said to Hackett, " I give up the busi- 
 ness !" The charge against Eyndhoven was dismissed. 
 
 Thus did the Reformation awaken in Europe the slumber- 
 ing spirit of law and liberty. By enfranchising thought 
 from the yoke of popery, it prepared the way for other en- 
 franchisements ; and by restoring the authority of the word
 
 THE YEAB 1526 IN ENGLAND. 299 
 
 of God, it brought back the reign of the law among nations 
 long the prey of turbulent passions anil arbitrary power. 
 Then, as at all times, religious society forestalled civil so- 
 ciety, and gave it those two great principles of order and 
 liberty, which popery compromises or annuls. It was not 
 in vain that the magistrates of a Flemish city, enlightened 
 by the first dawn of the Reformation, set so noble an ex- 
 ample; the English, who were very numerous in the Hanse 
 Towns, thus learnt once more the value of that civil and 
 religious liberty which is the time-honoured right of Eng- 
 land, and of which they were in after-years to give other 
 nations the so much needed lessons. 
 
 " Well then," said Hackett, who was annoyed at their 
 setting the law above his master's will, " I will go and buy 
 all these books, and send them to the cardinal, that he may 
 burn them." With these words he left the court. But his 
 anger evaporating,* he set oft" for Malines to complain to the 
 regent and her council of the Antwerp decision. " What!" 
 said he, " you punish those who circulate false money, and 
 you will not punish still more severely the man who coins 
 it? in this case, he is the printer." " But that is just the 
 point in dispute," they replied; "we are not sure the money 
 is false" " How can it be otherwise," answered Henry's 
 agent, "since the bishops of England have declared it so?" 
 The imperial government, which was not very favourably 
 disposed towards England, ratified Eyndhoven's acquittal, 
 but permitted Hackett to burn all the copies of the New 
 Testament he could seize. He hastened to profit by this 
 concession, and began hunting after the Holy Scriptures, 
 while the priests eagerly came to his assistance. In their 
 view, as well as in that of their English colleagues, the su- 
 preme decision in matter of faith rested not with the word 
 of God but with the pope ; and the best means of securing 
 this privilege to the pontiff was to reduce the Bible to ashes. 
 
 Notwithstanding these trials, the year 1526 was a memo- 
 rable one for England. The English New Testament had 
 been circulated from the shores of the Channel to the bor- 
 ders of Scotland, and the Reformation had begun in that 
 
 * My choler was descended. Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 129.
 
 300 WOLSEY DESIRES TO BE REVENGED. 
 
 island by the word of God. The revival of the sixteenth 
 century was in no country less than in England the emana- 
 tion of a royal mandate. But God, who had disseminated 
 the Scriptures over Britain, in defiance of the rulers of the 
 nation, was about to make use of their passions to remove 
 the difficulties which opposed the final triumph of his plans. 
 We here enter upon a new phasis in the history of the Re- 
 formation ; and having studied the work of God in the faith 
 of the little ones, we proceed to contemplate the work of 
 man in the intrigues of the great ones of the earth. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Wolsey desires to be revenged The Divorce suggested Henry's Senti- 
 ments towards the Queen Wolsey's first Steps Longland's Proceed- 
 ings Refusal of Margaret of Valois Objection of the Bishop of Tar- 
 bes Henry's Uneasiness Catherine's Alarm Mission to Spain. 
 
 WOLSEY, mortified at not being able to obtain the pontifical 
 throne, to which he had so ardently aspired, and being espe- 
 cially irritated by the ill-will of Charles V., meditated a 
 plan which, entirely unsuspected by him, was to lead to the 
 enfranchisement of England from the papal yoke. " They 
 laugh at me, and thrust me into the second rank," he had 
 exclaimed. " So be it ! I will create such a confusion in 
 
 the world as has not been seen for ages I will do it, even 
 
 should England be swallowed up in the tempest!"* De- 
 sirous of exciting imperishable hatred between Henry VIII. 
 and Charles V., he had undertaken to break the marriage 
 which Henry VII. and Ferdinand the Catholic had planned 
 to unite for ever their families and their crowns. His 
 hatred of Charles was not his only motive. Catherine had 
 reproached him for his dissolute Hfe,f and he had sworn to 
 be revenged. There can be no doubt about Wolsey's share 
 
 * Sandoval, i. p. 358. Rauke, Deutsche Gesch. iii. p. 17 
 f Malos oderat mores. Polyd. Virg. p. 685.
 
 THE DIVORCE SUGGESTED. SOi 
 
 in the matter. " The first terms of the divorce were put 
 forward by me," he told the French ambassador. " I did 
 it," he added, " to cause a lasting separation between the 
 houses of England and Burgundy."* The best informed 
 writers of the sixteenth century, men of the most opposite 
 parties, Pole, Polydore Virgil, Tyndale, Meteren, Pallavicini, 
 Sanders, and Roper, More's son-in-law, all agree in point- 
 ing to Wolsey as the instigator of that divorce, which has 
 become so famous.-j- lie desired to go still farther, and 
 after inducing the king to put away his queen, he hoped to 
 prevail on the pope to depose the emperor.^ It was not his 
 passion for Anne Boleyn, as so many of the Romish fabu- 
 lists have repeated, but the passion of a cardinal for the 
 triple crown which gave the signal of England's emancipa- 
 tion. Offended pride is one of the most active principles of 
 human nature. 
 
 "Wolsey's design was a strange one, and difficult of execu- 
 tion, but not impossible. Henry was living apparently on 
 the best terms with Catherine ; on more than one occasion 
 Erasmus had spoken of the royal family of England as the 
 pattern of the domestic virtues. But the most ardent of 
 Henry's desires was not satisfied ; he had no son ; those 
 whom the queen had borne him had died in their infancy, 
 and Mary alone survived. The deaths of these little chil- 
 dren, at all times so heartrending, were particularly so in 
 the palace of Greenwich. It appeared to Catherine that 
 the shade of the last Plantagenet, immolated on her mar- 
 riage-altar, came forth to seize one after another the heirs 
 she gave to the throne of England, and to carry them away 
 to his tomb. The queen shed tears almost unceasingly, and 
 implored the divine mercy, while the king cursed his un- 
 
 * Le Grand, Hist, du divorce, Preuves, p. 186. 
 
 t Instigator et auctor concilii existimabatur (Pole, Apology). He 
 was furious mad, and imagined this divorcement between the king and 
 the queen (Tyndale's Works, i. p. 465). See also Sanderus, 7 and 9 ; 
 Polyd. Virg. p. 685 ; Meteren, Hist, of the Low Countries, p 20 ; Palla- 
 vicini, Cone. Trident, i. p. 203, etc. A contrary assertion of Wolsey's 
 hao been adduced against these authorities in the Pamphleteer, No. 4'2, 
 p. 336 ; but a slight acquaintance with his history soon teaches us that 
 veracity was the least of his virtues. 
 
 Le Grand, Hist, du divorce, Preuves, p. 65, 69.
 
 302 HENRY'S SENTIMENTS TOWARDS THE QUEEN. 
 
 happy fate. The people seemed to share in the royal sor- 
 row ; and men of learning and piety (Lon gland was among 
 their number)* declared against the validity of the marriage. 
 They said that " the papal dispensations had no force when 
 in opposition to the law of God." Yet hitherto Henry had 
 rejected every idea of a divorce.-j- 
 
 The times had changed since 1509. The king had loved 
 Catherine ; her reserve, mildness, and dignity, had charmed 
 him. Greedy of pleasure and applause, he was delighted to 
 see his wife content to be the quiet witness of his joys and 
 of his triumphs. But gradually the queen had grown older, 
 her Spanish gravity had increased, her devout practices were 
 multiplied, and her infirmities, become more frequent, had left 
 the king no hope of having a son. From that hour, even while 
 continuing to praise her virtues, Henry grew cold towards 
 her person, and his love -by degrees changed into repug- 
 nance. And then he thought that the death of his children 
 might be a sign of God's anger. This idea had taken hold 
 of him, and induced him to occupy apartments separate from 
 the queen's.:}: 
 
 Wolsey judged the moment favourable for beginning the 
 attack. It was in the latter months of 1526, when calling 
 Longland, the king's confessor, to him, and concealing his 
 principal motive, he said : " You know his majesty's anguish. 
 The stability of his crown and his everlasting salvation 
 seem to be compromised alike. To whom can I unbosom 
 myself, if not to you, who must know the inmost secrets of 
 his soul?" The two bishops resolved to awaken Henry to 
 the perils incurred by his union with Catherine ; but Long- 
 land insisted that Wolsey should take the first steps. 
 
 The cardinal waited upon the king, and reminded him of 
 his scruples before the betrothal ; he exaggerated those en- 
 tertained by the nation, and speaking with unusual warmth, 
 
 * Jampridem conjugium regium, veluti infirmum. Polyd. Virg p. G85. 
 
 f- That matrimony which the king at first seemed not disposed to an- 
 nul. Strype, i. p. 135. 
 
 J Burnet, vol. i. p. 20 (London, 1841). Letter from Grynseus to Bucer. 
 Strype, i. p. 135. 
 
 Quamprimum regi patefaciendum. Polyd. Virg. p. 685.
 
 WOLSEY'S FIRST STEPS PROPOSES MARGARET. 303 
 
 he entreated the king to remain no longer in such danger :* 
 " The holiness of your life and the legitimacy of your succes- 
 sion are at stake." " My good father," said Henry, " you 
 would do well to consider the weight of the stone that you 
 have undertaken to move.f The queen is a woman of such 
 exemplary life that I have no motive for separating from 
 her." 
 
 The cardinal did not consider himself beaten ; three days 
 later he appeared before the king accompanied by the bishop 
 of Lincoln. " Most mighty prince," said the confessor, who 
 felt bold enough to speak after the cardinal, " you cannot, 
 like Herod, have your brother's wife.J I exhort and con- 
 jure you, as having the care of your soul, to submit the 
 matter to competent judges." Henry consented, and per- 
 haps not unwillingly. 
 
 It was not enough for Wolsey to separate Henry from 
 the emperor ; he must, for greater security, unite him to 
 Francis I. The king of England shall repudiate the aunt of 
 Charles V., and then marry the sister of the French king. 
 Proud of the success he had obtained in the first part of his 
 plan, Wolsey entered upon the second. " There is a prin- 
 cess," he told the king, " whose birth, graces, and talents 
 charm all Europe. Margaret of Valois, sister of King Fran- 
 cis, is superior to all of her sex, and no one is worthier of 
 your alliance." || Henry made answer that it was a serious 
 matter, requiring deliberate examination. Wolsey, how- 
 ever, placed in the king's hands a portrait of Margaret, and 
 it has been imagined that he even privily caused her senti- 
 ments to be sounded. Be that as it may, the sister of 
 Francis I. having learnt that she was pointed at as the fu- 
 ture queen of England, rebelled at the idea of taking from an 
 innocent woman a crown she had Avorn so nobly. " The 
 
 * Vehcmenter oral ne se patiatur in tanto versari discrimine. Polyd. 
 Virg. p. 685. 
 
 t Bone pater, Tide beno qualo saxum suo loco jacens movero coneris. 
 Ibid. 
 
 Like another Herodes. More 'a Life, p. 129. 
 
 Ipsecuide salute animae tuae cura est,hortor,rogo, persuadeo, Folyd. 
 Virg. p. 686. 
 
 y Mulier prater cseteras digna matrimonio tuo.
 
 304 COMMISSION OF INQUIRY. 
 
 French king's sister knows too much of Christ to consent 
 unto such wickedness," said Tyndale.* Margaret of Valois 
 replied : " Let me hear no more of a marriage that can be 
 effected only at the expense of Catherine of Aragon's happi- 
 ness and life."f The woman who was destined in future 
 years to fill the throne of England was then residing at Mar- 
 garet's court. Shortly after this, on the 24th of January 
 1527, the sister of Francis I. married Henry d'Albret, king 
 of Navarre. 
 
 Henry VIIL, desirous of information with regard to his 
 favourite's suggestion, commissioned Fox, his almoner, Pace, 
 dean of St Paul's, and Wakefield, professor of Hebrew at 
 Oxford, to study the passages of Leviticus and Deutero- 
 nomy which related to marriage with a brother's wife. 
 Wakefield, who had no wish to commit himself, asked whe- 
 ther Henry was for or against the divorce.:j: Pace replied to 
 this servile hebraist that the king wanted nothing but the 
 truth. 
 
 But who would take the first public step in an undertak- 
 ing so hazardous ? Every one shrank back ; the terrible 
 emperor alarmed them all. It was a French bishop that 
 hazarded the step ; bishops meet us at every turn in this 
 affair of the divorce, with which bishops have so violently re- 
 proached the Reformation. Henry, desirous of excusing Wol- 
 * sey, pretended afterwards that the objections of the French 
 prelate had preceded those of Longland and the cardinal. 
 In February 1527, Francis I. had sent an embassy to 
 London, at the head of which was Gabriel de Grammont, 
 bishop of Tarbes, with the intention to procure the hand of 
 Mary of England. Henry's ministers having inquired whe- 
 ther the engagement of Francis with the queen-dowager of 
 Portugal did not oppose the commission with which the 
 French bishop was charged, the latter answered : " I will 
 ask you in turn what has been done to remove the im- 
 pediments which opposed the marriage of which the Princess 
 
 * Works (ed. Russell), i. p. 464. 
 
 f- Princeps ilia, mulier optima, noluerit quicqnam audire de nuptiis, 
 quae nuptiso non possunt conjungi sine miserabili Catharinse casu atquo 
 adeo interitu. Polyd. Virg. p. 687. 
 
 t Utrum staret ad te an contra te 1 Le Grand, Preuves, p. 2.
 
 HENRY'S UNEASINESS. 305 
 
 Mary is issue."* They laid before the ambassador the dis- 
 pensation of Julius II., which he returned, saying, that the 
 bull was not sufficient, seeing that such a marriage was for- 
 bidden jure divino ;f and he added : " Have you English a 
 different gospel from ours?"| 
 
 The king, when he heard these words (as he informs us 
 himself), was filled with fear and horror. Three of the most 
 respected bishops of Christendom united to accuse him of 
 incest ! He began to speak of it to certain individuals : 
 " The scruples of my conscience have been terribly in- 
 creased (he said) since the bishop spoke of this matter be- 
 fore my council in exceedingly plain words." || There is no 
 reason to believe that these terrible troubles of which the 
 king speaks were a mere invention on his part. A disputed 
 succession might again plunge England into civil war. 
 Even if no pretenders should spring up, might they not see a 
 rival house, a French prince for instance, wedded to Henry's 
 daughter, reigning over England ? .The king, in his anxiety, 
 had recourse to his favourite author, Thomas Aquinas, and 
 this angel of the schools declared his marriage unlawful. 
 Henry next opened the Bible, and found this threat against 
 the man who took his brother's wife : " He shall be child- 
 less ! " The denunciation increased his trouble, for he had 
 no heir. In the midst of this darkness a new perspective 
 opened before him. His conscience might be unbound ; his 
 desire to have a younger wife might be gratified ; he might 
 have a son ! The king resolved to lay the matter before 
 
 * What had been here provided for taking away the impediment of 
 that marriage. (State Papers, i. p. 199.) Le Grand, (i. p. 17,) dis- 
 credits the objections of the bishop of Tarbes ; but this letter from Wol- 
 sey to Henry VIII. establishes them incontrovertibly. And besides, Du 
 Bellay, in a letter afterwards quoted by Le Grand himself, states the 
 matter still more strongly than Wolsey. 
 
 + Wherewith the pope could not dispense, nisi ex urgentissima causa. 
 Wolsey to Henry VIII., dated 8th July. State Papers, i. p. 199. 
 
 Anglos, qui tuo impcrio subsunt, hoc idem evangelium colerc quod nos 
 colimus. Sanders, 12. 
 
 Quae oratio quanto metu ac horrore animum nostrum turbaverit. 
 Henry's speech to the Lord Mayor and common council at his palace of 
 Bridewell, 8th November 1528. Hal), p. 754 ; Wilkins, Concil. iii. p. 714. . 
 
 || Du Bellay's letter in I.e Grand. Prenves, p. 218. 
 
 VOL. V. 14
 
 306 CATHERINE'S ALARM. 
 
 a commission of lawyers, and this commission soon wrote 
 volumes.* 
 
 During all this time Catherine, suspecting no evil, was 
 occupied in her devotions. Her heart, bruised by the death 
 of her children and by the king's coldness, sought consola- 
 tion in prayer both privately and in the royal chapel. She 
 would rise at midnight and kneel down upon the cold 
 stones, and never missed any of the canonical services. But 
 one day (probably in May or June 1527) some officious per- 
 son informed her of the rumours circulating in the city and 
 at court. Bursting with anger and alarm, and all in tears, 
 she hastened to the king, and addressed him with the bit- 
 terest complaints.-! Henry was content to calm her by 
 vague assurances ; but the unfeeling Wolsey, troubling him- 
 self still less than his master about Catherine's emotion, 
 called it, with a smile, " a short tragedy." 
 
 The offended wife lost no time : it was necessary that the 
 emperor should be informed promptly, surely, and accurately 
 of this unprecedented insult. A letter would be insufficient, 
 even were it not intercepted. Catherine therefore deter- 
 mined to send her servant Francis Philip, a Spaniard, to her 
 nephew ; and to conceal the object of his journey, they pro- 
 ceeded, after the tragedy, to play a comedy in the Spanish 
 style. " My mother is sick and desires to see me," said 
 Philip. Catherine begged the king to refuse her servant's 
 prayer; and Henry, divining the stratagem, resolved to 
 employ trick against trick.J " Philip's request is very pro- 
 per," he made answer; and Catherine, from regard to her 
 husband, consented to his departure. Henry meantime had 
 given orders that, " notwithstanding any safe-conduct, the 
 said Philip should be arrested and detained at Calais, in 
 such a manner, however, that no one should know whence 
 the stoppage proceeded." 
 
 It was to no purpose that the queen indulged in a cul- 
 
 * So as the books excrescunt in magna Tolumina. Wolsey to Henry 
 VIII. State Papers, i. p. 200. 
 
 t The queen hath broken with your grace thereof. State Papers, i. 
 p. 200. 
 
 t The king's highness knowing great collusion and dissimulation be- 
 tween them, doth also dissemble. Knight to Wolsev Tbid, p. 215.
 
 THE SECRET BETRAYED. 307 
 
 pable dissimulation ; a poisoned arrow had pierced her 
 heart, and her words, her manners, her complaints, her 
 tears, the numerous messages she sent, now to one and now 
 to another, betrayed the secret which the king wished still 
 to conceal.* Her friends blamed her for this publicity ; men 
 wondered what Charles would say when he heard of his 
 aunt's distress; they feared that peace would be broken; 
 but Catherine, whose heart was " rent in twain," was not to 
 be moved by diplomatic considerations. Her sorrow did 
 not check Henry ; with the two motives which made him 
 eager for a divorce the scruples of his conscience and the 
 desire of an heir was now combined a third still more 
 forcible. A woman was about to play an important part in 
 the destinies of England. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Anne Boleyn appointed Maid of Honour to Catherine Lord Percy be- 
 comes attached to her Wolsey separates them Anne enters Mar- 
 garet's Household Siege of Rome ; Cromwell Wolsey's Intercession 
 for the Popedom He demands the Hand of Hence of France for 
 Henry Failure Anne reappears at Court Repels the King's Ad- 
 Tances Henry's Letter He resolves to accelerate the Divorce Two 
 Motives which induce Anne to refuse the Crown Wolsey a Opposi- 
 tion. 
 
 ANNE BOLEYN, who had been placed by her father at the 
 court of France, had returned to England with Sir Thomas, 
 then ambassador at Paris, at the time that an English 
 army made an incursion into Normandy (1522). It would 
 appear that she was presented to the queen about this 
 period, and appointed one of Catherine's maids of honour. 
 The following year was a memorable one to her from her 
 first sorrow. 
 
 By her behaviour, manner, words, and messages sent to diverse, 
 hath published, divulged, &c. State Papers, i. p. 200.
 
 308 ANNE BOLEYN AND LORD PERCY. 
 
 Among the young noblemen in the cardinal's household 
 was Lord Percy, eldest son of the Earl of Northumberland. 
 While Wolsey was closeted with the king, Percy was 
 accustomed to resort to the queen's apartments, where he 
 passed the time among her ladies. He soon felt a sincere 
 passion for Anne, and the young maid of honour, who had 
 been cold to the addresses of the gentlemen at the court of 
 Francis, replied to the affections of the heir of Northumber- 
 land. The two young people already indulged in day- 
 dreams of a quiet, elegant, and happy life in their noble 
 castles of the north ; but such dreams were fated to be of 
 short duration. 
 
 Wolsey hated the Norfolks, and consequently the Bo- 
 leyns. It was to counterbalance their influence that he had 
 been first introduced at court. He became Angry, therefore, 
 when he saw one of his household suing for the hand of the 
 daughter, and niece of his enemies. Besides, certain parti- 
 sans of the clergy accused Anne of being friendly to the 
 
 Reformation.* It is generally believed that even at this 
 
 period Wolsey had discovered Henry's eyes turned compla- 
 cently on the young maid of honour, and that this induced 
 him to thwart Percy's love ; but this seems improbable. Of 
 all the women in England, Anne was the one whose influ- 
 ence Wolsey would have had most cause to fear, and he 
 really did fear it ; and he would have been but too happy 
 to see her married to Percy. , It has been asserted that 
 Henry prevailed on the cardinal to thwart the affection of 
 the two young people ; but in that case did he confide to 
 Wolsey the real motive of his opposition ? Did the latter 
 entertain criminal intentions? Did he undertake to yield 
 up to dishonour the daughter and niece of his political ad- 
 versaries ? This would be horrible, but it is possible, and 
 may even be deduced from Cavendish's narrative ; yet we 
 will hope that it was not so. If it were, Anne's virtue suc- 
 cessfully baffled the infamous plot. 
 
 But be that as it may, one day when Percy was in at- 
 tendance upon the cardinal, the latter rudely addressed 
 him : " I marvel at your folly, that you should attempt to 
 * Meteren's Hist, of the Low Countries, folio, 5>< .
 
 ANNE IN MARGARET'S HOUSEHOLD. 309 
 
 contract yourself with that girl without your father's or the 
 king's consent. I command you to break with her." Percy 
 burst into tears, and besought the cardinal to plead his 
 cause. " I charge you to resort no more into her company," 
 was Wolsey's cold reply,* after which he rose up and left 
 the room. Anne received an order at the same time to 
 leave the court. Proud and bold, and ascribing her misfor- 
 tune to Wolsey's hatred, she exclaimed as she quitted the 
 palace, " I will be revenged for this insult." But she had 
 scarcely taken up her abode in the gothic halls of Hever 
 Castle, when news still more distressing overwhelmed her. 
 Percy was married to Lady Mary Talbot. She wept long 
 and bitterly, and vowed against the young nobleman who 
 had deserted her a contempt equal to her hatred of the car- 
 dinal. Anne was reserved for a more illustrious, but more 
 unhappy fate. 
 
 This event necessarily rendered her residence in this 
 country far from attractive to Anne Boleyn. " She did not 
 stay long in England," says Burnet, following Camden : 
 " she served Queen Claude of France till her death, and 
 after that she was taken into service by King Francis' 
 sister." Anne Boleyn, lady-in-waiting to Margaret of Va- 
 lois, was consoled at last. She indulged in gaieties with all 
 the vivacity of her age, and glittered among the youngest 
 and the fairest at all the court festivities. 
 
 In Margaret's house she met the most enlightened men of 
 the age, and her understanding and heart were developed 
 simultaneously with the graces. She began to read, with- 
 out thoroughly understanding it, the holy book in which 
 her mistress (as Brantome informs us) found consolation 
 and repose, and to direct a few light and- passing thoughts 
 to that " mild Emanuel," to whom Margaret addressed such 
 beautiful verses. 
 
 At last Anne returned definitively to England. It has 
 been asserted that the queen-regent, fearing that Henry 
 after the balUe of Pavia would invade France, had sent 
 Anne to London to dissuade him from it. But it was a 
 
 * Cavendish's Wolaey, p. 123. Cavendish was present at this conver- 
 sation.
 
 310 CAPTURE OF ROME CROMWELL. 
 
 stronger voice than hers which stopped the king of England. 
 " Remain quiet," wrote Charles V. to him ; " I have the 
 stag in my net, and we have only to think of sharing the 
 spoils." Margaret of Valois having married the king of 
 Navarre at the end of January 1527, and quitted Paris and 
 her brothers court, it is supposed that Sir Thomas Boleyn 
 who was unwilling that his daughter should take up her 
 abode in the Pyrenees, recalled her to England probably in 
 the winter or spring of the same year. " There is not the 
 least evidence that she came to it earlier," says a modern 
 author.* She appeared once more at court, and the niece of 
 the duke of Norfolk soon eclipsed her companions, " by her 
 excellent gesture and behaviour," -J- as we learn from a con- 
 temporary unfriendly to the Boleyns. All the court was 
 struck by the regularity of her features, the expression of 
 her eyes, the gentleness of her manners, and the majesty of 
 her carriage. J " She was a beautiful creature," says an 
 old historian, " well proportioned, courteous, amiable, very 
 agreeable, and a skilful musician." 
 
 While entertainments were following close upon each 
 other at the court of Henry VIII., a strange rumour filled 
 all England with surprise. It was reported that the im- 
 perialist soldiers had taken Rome by assault, and that some 
 Englishmen were among those who had mounted the breach. 
 One Thomas Cromwell was specially named || the man 
 who nearly twenty years before had obtained certain indul- 
 gences from Julius II., by offering him some jars of English 
 confectionary. This soldier carried with him the New Tes- 
 tament of Erasmus, and he is said to have learnt it by 
 heart during the campaign. Being gay, brave, and intelli- 
 gent, he entertained, from reading the gospel and seeing 
 Rome, a great aversion for the policy, superstitions, and dis- 
 orders of the popedom. The day of the 7th May 1527 de- 
 cided the tenor of his life. To destroy the papal power 
 
 * Turner, Hist. Henry VIII. ii. p. 185. 
 t Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, p. 120. 
 
 J Memoirs of Sir Thomas Wyatt, in Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, p, 
 424. 
 
 Metercn's Hist, of the Low Countries, folio, 20. 
 y Foxe, vol. v. p. 365.
 
 WOLSEY'S EMBASSY TO FRANCE. 311 
 
 became his dominant idea. On returning to England he 
 entered the cardinal's household. 
 
 However, the captive pope and cardinals wrote letters 
 " filled with tears and groans."* Full of zeal for the papacy, 
 Wolsey ordered a public fast. "The emperor will never 
 release the pope, unless he be compelled," he told the king. 
 " Sir, God has made you defender of the faith ; save the 
 church and its head ! " " My lord," answered the king with 
 a smile, " I assure you that this war between the emperor 
 and the pope is not for the faith, but for temporal posses- 
 sions and dominions." 
 
 But Wolsey would not be discouraged ; and, on the 3d of 
 July, he passed through the streets of London, riding a 
 richly caparisoned mule, and resting his feet on gilt stirrups, 
 while twelve hundred gentlemen accompanied him on horse- 
 back. He was going to entreat Francis to aid his master 
 in saving Clement VII. He had found no difficulty in pre- 
 vailing upon Henry ; Charles talked of carrying the pope to 
 Spain, and of permanently establishing the -apostolic see in 
 that country .-j- Now, how could they obtain the divorce 
 from a Spanish pope? During the procession, Wolsey 
 seemed oppressed with grief, and even shed tears ; J but he 
 soon raised his head and exclaimed : " My heart is inflamed, 
 and I wish that it may be said of the pope per secula sem- 
 piterna, 
 
 M Rediit Henrici octavi virtute serena." 
 
 Desirous of forming a close union between France and 
 England for the accomplishment of his designs, he had cast 
 his eyes on the Princess Renee, daughter of Louis XII., and 
 sister-in-law to Francis I., as the future wife of Henry 
 VIII. Accordingly the treaty of alliance between the two 
 crowns having been signed at Amiens on the 18th of August 
 (1527), Francis, with his mother and the cardinal, pro- 
 ceeded to Compiegne, and there Wolsey, styling Charles the 
 
 * Plenas lacrymarum et miseriae. State Papers, vol. i. 
 f- The see apostolic should perpetually remain in Spain. Ibid. i. p 
 227. 
 I saw the lord cardinal weep very tenderly. Cavendish, p. 151.
 
 312 HE DEMANDS KENEE FOR THE KING. 
 
 most obstinate defender of Lutheranism,* promising " per- 
 petual conjunction on the one hand [between France and 
 England], and perpetual disjunction on the other" [between 
 England and Germany],f demanded Renee's hand for King 
 Henry. Staffileo, dean of Rota, affirmed that the pope had 
 been able to permit the marriage between Henry and 
 Catherine only by an error of the keys of St Peter.J This 
 avowal, so remarkable on the part of the dean of one of the 
 first jurisdictions of Rome, induced Francis' mother to listen 
 favourably to the cardinal's demand. But whether this 
 proposal was displeasing to Renee, who was destined on a 
 future day to profess the pure faith of the Gospel with 
 greater earnestness than Margaret of Valois, or whether 
 Francis was not over-anxious for a union that would have 
 given Henry rights over the duchy of Brittany, she was 
 promised to the son of the Duke of Ferrara. It was a check 
 to the cardinal ; but it was his ill fortune to receive one still 
 more severe on his return to England. 
 
 The daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, (who had been 
 created Viscount Rochford in 1525,) was constantly at court, 
 " where she flourished in great estimation and favour," says 
 Cavendish, "having always a private indignation against 
 the cardinal for breaking off the pre-contract made between 
 Lord Percy and her," little suspecting that Henry had had 
 any share in it. Her beauty, her graceful carriage, her 
 black hair, oval face, and bright eyes, her sweet voice in 
 singing, her skill and dignity in the dance, her desire to 
 please, which was not entirely devoid tof coquetry, her 
 sprightliness, the readiness of her repartees, and above all 
 the amiability of her character, won every heart. She 
 brought to Greenwich and to London the polished manners 
 of the court of Francis I. Every day (it was reported) she 
 invented a new style of dress, and set the fashion in Eng- 
 land. But to all these qualities, she added modesty, and 
 
 * Omnium maxime dolosus et haeresis Lutherianae fautor acerrimus. 
 State Papers, i. p. 274. 
 
 f Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves, i. p. 186. 
 
 J Nisi clave errante. State Papers, i. p. 272. 
 
 For all this while she knew nothing of the king's intended purpose, 
 said one of his adversaries. Cavendish's Wolsey, p. 129.
 
 ANNE BOLEYN'S SUCCESS REJECTS THE KING. 313 
 
 even imposed it on others by her example. The ladies of 
 the court, who had hitherto adopted a different fashion (says 
 her greatest enemy), covered the neck and bosom as she 
 did;* and the malicious, unable to appreciate Anne's mo- 
 tives, ascribed this modesty on the young lady's part to a 
 desire to hide a secret deformity, f Numerous admirers 
 once more crowded round Anne Boleyn, and among others, 
 one of the most illustrious noblemen and poets of England, 
 Sir Thomas Wyatt, a follower of Wickliffe. He, howeves, 
 was not the man destined to replace the son of the Percies. 
 
 Henry, absorbed in anxiety about his divorce from Ca- 
 therine, had become low-spirited and melancholy. The 
 laughter, songs, repartees, and beauty of Anne Boleyn 
 struck and captivated him, and his eyes were soon fixed 
 complacently on the young maid of honour. Catherine was 
 more than forty years' old, and it was hardly to be expected 
 that so susceptible a man as Henry would have made, ns 
 Job says, a covenant with his eyes not to think upon a maid. 
 Desirous of showing his admiration, he presented Anne, ac- 
 cording to usage, with a costly jewel; she accepted and 
 wore it, and continued to dance, laugh, and chatter as be- 
 fore, without attaching particular importance to the royal 
 present. Henry's attentions became more continuous ; and 
 he took advantage of a moment when he found Anne alone 
 to declare his sentiments. With mingled emotion and alarm, 
 the young lady fell trembling at the king's feet, and ex- 
 claimed, bursting into tears : " I think, most noble and wor- 
 thy king, your majesty speaks these words in mirth to prove 
 
 me I will rather lose my life than my virtue." J Henry 
 
 gracefully replied, that he should at least continue to hope. 
 But Anne, rising up, proudly made answer : " I understand 
 not, most mighty king, how you should retain any such 
 
 * Ad illius imitationem reliqure regiaa ancillrc colli ct pcctoris supe- 
 riora, quse antea nuda gestabant, operire coeperunt. Sanders, p. 16. 
 
 t See Sanders, ibid. It is useless to refute Sanders' stories. We re- 
 fer our readers to Burnet's Hist, of the Reformation, to Lord Herbert's 
 Life of Henry VIII., to Wyatt, and others. We need only read Sanders 
 to estimate at their true value the foul calumnies, as these writers term 
 them, of the man whom they style the Roman legendary. 
 
 J Sloane MSS. No. 2495; Turner's Hist. En*, ii, p. 1.9fi. 
 
 H* o
 
 314 ANNE QUITS THE COURT. 
 
 hope ; your wife I cannot be, both in respect of mine own 
 unworthiness, and also because you have a queen already. 
 Your mistress I will not be." Anne kept her word. She 
 continued to show the king, even after this interview, all 
 the respect that was due to him ; but on several occasions 
 she proudly, violently even, repelled his advances.* In this 
 age of gallantry, we find her resisting for nearly six years all 
 the seductions Henry scattered round her. Such an exam- 
 ple is not often met with in the history of courts. The books 
 she had read in Margaret's' palace gave her a secret strength. 
 All looked upon her with respect ; and even the queen treated 
 her with- politeness. Catherine showed, however, that she 
 had remarked the king's preference. One day, as she was 
 playing at cards with her maid of honour, while Henry was 
 in the room, Anne frequently holding the king, she said: 
 " My Lady Anne, you have good hap to stop ever at a 
 king ; but you are not like others, you will have all or none." 
 Anne blushed : from that moment Henry's attentions ac- 
 quired more importance ; she resolved to withdraw from 
 them, and quitted the court with Lady Rochford. 
 
 The king, who was not accustomed to resistance, was ex- 
 tremely grieved; and having learnt that Anne would not 
 return to the court either with or without her mother, sent a 
 courier to Hever with a message and a letter for her. If we 
 recollect the manners of the age of Henry VIII., and how 
 far the men, in their relations with the gentler sex, were 
 strangers to that reserve which society now imposes upon 
 them, we cannot but be struck by the king's respectful tone. 
 He writes thus in French : 
 
 " As the time seems to me very long since I heard from 
 you or concerning your health, the great love I have for you 
 has constrained me to send this bearer to be better informed 
 both of your health and pleasure ; particularly, because 
 since my last parting with you, I have been told that you 
 have entirely changed the mind in which I left you, and 
 that you neither mean to come to court with your mother 
 nor any other way ; which report, if true, I cannot enough 
 * Tanto vehemcntius preces regias ilia repulit. Sanders, p. 17.
 
 HENRT'3 LETTER TO ANNE. 315 
 
 marvel at, being persuaded in my own mind that I have 
 never committed any offence against you ; arid it seems 
 hard, in return for the great love I bear you, to be kept at a 
 distance from the person and presence of the woman in the 
 world that I value the most. And if you love me with as 
 much affection as I hope you do, I am sure the distance of 
 our two persons would be equally irksome to you, though 
 this does not belong so much to the mistress as to the ser- 
 vant. 
 
 " Consider well, my mistress, how greatly your absence 
 afflicts me. I hope it is not your will that it should be so ; 
 but if I heard for certain that you yourself desired it, I 
 could but mourn my ill-fortune, and strive by degrees to 
 abate of my great folly. 
 
 " And so for lack of time I make an end of this rude let- 
 ter, beseeching you to give the bearer credence in all he will 
 tell you from me. Written by the hand of your entire ser 
 vant, " H. R.."* 
 
 X 
 
 The word servant (serviteur) employed in this letter ex- 
 plains the sense in which Henry used the word mistress. In 
 the language of chivalry, the latter term expressed a person 
 to whom the lover had surrendered his heart. 
 
 It would seem that Anne's reply to this letter was the 
 same she had made to the king from the very first; and 
 Cardinal Pole mentions more than once her obstinate re- 
 fusal of an adulterous love.f At last Henry understood 
 Anne's virtue; but he was far from abating of his great 
 folly, as he had promised. That tyrannical selfishness, which 
 the prince often displayed in his life, was shown particularly 
 
 * Pamphleteer, No. 42, p. 347. It is difficult to fix the order and 
 chronology of Henry's letters to Anne Boleyn. This is the second in the 
 Vatican Collection, but it appears to us to be of older date. It is con- 
 sidered as written in May 1528 ; we are inclined to place it in the au- 
 tumn of 1527. The originals of these letters, chiefly in old French, are 
 still preserved in the Vatican, having been stolen from the royal cabinet 
 and conveyed thither. 
 
 f Concubina enim tna fieri pudica mulier nolebat, uxor volebat. Ilia 
 cujus amore rex deperibat, pertinacissime negabat sui corporis potcsta- 
 tem. Polus ad Regem, p. 176. Cardinal PC e is a far more trustworthy 
 authority than Sanders.
 
 816 HENRY PROPOSES MARRIAGE. 
 
 in his amours. Seeing that he could not attain his end by 
 illegitimate means, he determined to break, as quickly as 
 possible, the bonds which united him to the queen. Anne's 
 virtue was the third cause of Henry's divorce. 
 
 His resolution being once taken, it must needs be carried 
 out. Henry having succeeded in bringing Anne back to 
 court, procured a private interview with her, offered her his 
 crown, and seizing her hand, took off one of her rings. But 
 Anne, who would not be the king's mistress, refused also to 
 be his wife. The glory of a crown could not dazzle her, said 
 Wyatt, and two motives in particular counterbalanced all the 
 prospects of greatness which were set before her eyes. The 
 first was her respect for the queen : " How could I injure a 
 princess of such great virtue ?" she exclaimed.* The second 
 was the fear that a union with " one that was her lord and 
 her king," would not give her that freedom of heart and that 
 liberty which she would enjoy by marrying a man of the 
 same rank with herself, f 
 
 Yet the noblemen and ladies of Henry's court whispered 
 to one another that Anne would certainly become queen of 
 England. Some were tormented by jealousy; others, her 
 friends, were delighted at the prospect of a rapid advance- 
 ment. Wolsey's enemies in particular were charmed at the 
 thought of ruining the favourite. It was at the very mo- 
 ment when all these emotions were so variously agitating 
 the court that the cardinal, returning from his embassy to 
 Francis, re-appeared in London, where an unexpected blow 
 struck him. 
 
 Wolsey was expressing his grief to Henry at having failed 
 in obtaining either Margaret or Eenee for him, when the 
 king interrupted him : " Console yourself, I shall marry 
 Anne Boleyn." The cardinal remained speechless for a 
 moment. What would become of him, if the king placed 
 the crown of England on the head of the daughter and niece 
 of his greatest enemies? What would become of the 
 church, if a second Anne of Bohemia should ascend the 
 
 * Tho love she bare even to the queen whom she served, that was also 
 a personage of great virtue. Wyatt, Mem. of A. B. p. 428. 
 f Ibid.
 
 WOLSEY 8 OPPOSITION LETTER TO THE POPE. 317 
 
 throne? Wolsey threw himself at the feet of his master, 
 and entreated him to renounce so fatal a project.* It was 
 then no doubt that he remained (as he afterwards said) an 
 hour or two on his knees before the king in his privy cham- 
 ber,-}- but without prevailing on Henry to give up his design. 
 Wolsey, persuaded that if he continued openly to oppose 
 Henry's will, he would for ever lose his confidence, dissem- 
 bled his vexation, waiting an opportunity to get rid of this 
 unfortunate rival by some intrigue. He began by writing to 
 the pope, informing him that a young lady, brought up by 
 the queen of Navarre, and consequently tainted by the Lu- 
 theran heresy, had captivated the king's heart ;J and from 
 that hour Anne Boleyn became the object of the hatred and 
 calumnies of Rome. But at the same time, to conceal his 
 intentions, Wolsey received Henry at a series of splendid 
 entertainments, at which Anne outshone all the ladies of the 
 court. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Bilney's Preaching His Arrest Arthur's Preaching and Imprisonment 
 Bilney's Examination Contest between the Judge and the Prisoner 
 Bilney's Weakness and Fall His Terrors Two Wants Arrival of 
 the Fourth Edition of the New Testament Joy among the Believers. 
 
 WHILE these passions were agitating Henry's palace, the 
 most moving scenes, produced by Christian faith, were 
 stirring the nation. Bilney, animated by that courage 
 which God sometimes gives to the weakest men, seemed to 
 have lost his natural timidity, and preached for a time with 
 an energy quite apostolic. He taught that all men should 
 first acknowledge their sins and condemn them, and then 
 hunger and thirst after that righteousness which Jesus 
 
 " Whose persuasion to the contrary, made to the king upon his knees. 
 Cavendish, p. 204. t Ibid. p. 388. 
 
 t Metcren, Hist, of tho Low Countries, folio, 20.
 
 318 BILNEY'S CHBISTIAN ACTIVITY. 
 
 Christ gives.* To this testimony borne to the truth, he added 
 his testimony against error. " These five hundred years," 
 he added, " there hath been no good pope ; and in all the 
 times past we can find but fifty : for they have neither preached 
 nor lived well, nor conformably to their dignity ; wherefore, 
 unto this day, they have borne the keys of simony."-}- 
 
 As soon as he descended from the pulpit, this pious 
 scholar, with his friend Arthur, visited the neighbouring 
 towns and villages. " The Jews and Saracens would long 
 ago have become believers," he once said at Wilsdon, " had 
 it not been for the idolatry of Christian men in offering can- 
 dles, wax, and money to stocks and stones." One day when 
 he visited Ipswich, where there was a Franciscan convent, 
 he exclaimed : " The cowl of St Francis wrapped round a 
 
 dead body hath no power to take away sins Ecce agnus 
 
 Dei qui tollit peccata mundi." (John i. 29.) The poor 
 monks, who were little versed in Scripture had recourse to 
 the Almanac to convict the Bible of error. " St Paul did 
 rightly affirm," said Friar John Brusierd." that there is but 
 one mediator of God and man, because as yet there was no 
 saint canonized or put into the calendar." " Let us ask of 
 the Father in the name of the Son," rejoined Bilney, " and 
 he will give unto us." " You are always speaking of the 
 Father and never of the saints" replied the friar ; " you are 
 like a man who has been looking so long upon the sun, that 
 he can see nothing else.":}: As he uttered these words the 
 monk seemed bursting with anger. " If I did not know that 
 the saints would take everlasting vengeance upon you, I 
 would surely with these nails of mine be your death." 
 Twice in fact did two monks pull him out of his pulpit. He 
 was arrested and taken to London. 
 
 Arthur, instead of fleeing, began to visit the flocks which 
 his friend had converted. " Good people," said he, " if- 1 
 should suffer persecution for the preaching of the gospel, 
 there are seven thousand more that would preach it as I do 
 now. Therefore, good people! good people!" (and he re- 
 
 * Ut omnes priraum peccata sua agnoscant et damnent, deinde esuriant 
 ct Bitiant justitiam illam. Foxe, iv. p. 634. 
 + Ibid. p. 627. J Ibid, p 629. Ibid. p. 630.
 
 BI1JSEY AND AKTUUK BEFORE THE BISHOPS. 319 
 
 peated these words several times in a sorrowful voice,) 
 " think not that if these tyrants and persecutors put a man 
 to death, the preaching of the gospel therefore is to be for- 
 saken. Every Christian man, yea every layman, is a priest. 
 Let our adversaries preach by the authority of the cardinal ; 
 others by the authority of the university ; others by the 
 pope's ; we will preach by the authority of God. It is not 
 the man who brings the word that saves the soul, but the 
 word which the man brings. 1 Neither bishops nor popes 
 have the right to forbid any man to preach the gospel ;* and 
 if they kill him he is not a heretic but a martyr."-^ The 
 priests were horrified at such doctrines. In their opinion, 
 there was no God out of their church, no salvation out of 
 their sacrifices. Arthur was thrown into the same prison as 
 Bilney. 
 
 On the 27th of November 1527, the cardinal and the arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, with a great number of bishops, 
 divines, and lawyers, met in the chapter-house of West- 
 minster, when Bilney and Arthur were brought before 
 them. But the king's prime minister thought it beneath 
 his dignity to occupy his time with miserable heretics. Wol- 
 sey had hardly commenced the examination, when he rose, 
 saying : " The affairs of the realm call me away ; all such 
 as are found guilty you will compel them to abjure, and 
 those who rebel you will deliver over to the secular power." 
 After a few questions proposed by the bishop of London, the 
 two accused men were led back to prison. 
 
 Abjuration or death that was Wolsey's order. But the 
 conduct of the trial was confided to Tonstall; Bilney con- 
 ceived some hope.J " Is it possible," he said to himself, 
 " that the bishop of London, the friend of Erasmus, will 
 
 gratify the monks? I must tell him that it was the 
 
 Greek Testament of his learned master that led me to the 
 faith." Upon which the humble evangelist, having obtained 
 paper and ink, set about writing to the bishop from his 
 gloomy prison those admirable letters which have been trans- 
 mitted to posterity. Tonstall, who was not a cruel man, 
 
 Foxe, iv. p. 623. 
 
 t Collyer's Church History, ii. p. 26. 
 
 * In talem nnnc mo judicem incidissa gr&tulor. Foxo, ST. p. 68S.
 
 320 TONSTALL DESIRES TO SAVE BILNEY. 
 
 was deeply moved, and then a strange struggle took place : 
 a judge wishing to save the prisoner, the prisoner desiring 
 to give up his life. Tonstall, by acquitting Bilney, had no 
 desire to compromise himself. " Submit to the church," said 
 the bishop, " for God speaks only through it." But Bilney, 
 who knew that God speaks in the Scriptures, remained in- 
 flexible. "Very well, then," said Tonstall, taking up the 
 prisoner's eloquent letters, " in discharge of my conscience I 
 shall lay these letters before 1 the court." He hoped, per- 
 haps, that they would touch his colleagues, but he was 
 deceived. He determined, therefore, to make a fresh attempt. 
 On the 4th of December, Bilney was brought again before 
 the court. " Abjure your errors," said Tonstall. Bilney 
 refusing by a shake of the head, the bishop continued : " Re- 
 tire into the next room and consider." Bilney withdrew, 
 and returning shortly after with joy beaming in his eyes, 
 Tonstall thought he had gained the victory. " You will 
 return to the church, then?" said he The doctor an- 
 swered calmly: " Fiat judicium in nomine Domini."* " Be 
 quick," continued the bishop, " this is the last moment, and 
 you will be condemned." " Hcec est dies quam fecit Do- 
 minus," answered Bilney, " exultemus et Icetemur in ea I " 
 (Ps. cxviii. 24.) Upon this Tonstall took off his cap, and 
 
 said: " In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti 
 
 Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus I " (Ps. Ixviii. 1.) 
 Then making the sign of the cross on his forehead and on 
 his breast, he gave judgment : " Thomas Bilney, I pronounce 
 thee convicted of heresy." He was about to name the 
 
 penalty a last hope restrained him; he stopped: "For 
 
 the rest of the sentence we take deliberation until to-mor- 
 row." Thus was the struggle prolonged between two men, 
 one of whom desired to walk to the stake, the other to bar 
 the way as it were with his own body. 
 
 "Will you return to the unity of the church?" asked 
 Tonstall the next day. " I hope I was never separated from 
 the church," answered Bilney. " Go and consult with some 
 of your friends," said the bishop, who was resolved to save 
 his life ; " I will give you till one o'clock in the afternoon." 
 Tn the afternoon Bilney made the same answer. "I will 
 * Let judgment be done in the name.of tha Lotfi
 
 BILNEY'S STRUGGLE. 321 
 
 give you two nights' respite to deliberate," said the bishop ; 
 " on Saturday, at nine o'clock in the forenoon, the court will 
 expect a plain definitive answer." Tonstall reckoned on the 
 night with its dreams, its anguish, and its terrors, to bring 
 about Bilney's recantation. 
 
 This extraordinary struggle occupied many minds both in 
 court and city. Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII. watched 
 with interest the various phases of this tragic history. What 
 will happen ? was the general question. Will he give way ? 
 Shall we see him live or die? One day and two nights 
 still remained ; everything was tried to shake the Cambridge 
 doctor. His friends crowded to his prison ; he *was over- 
 whelmed with arguments and examples ; but an inward 
 struggle, far more terrible than those without, agitated the 
 pious Bilney. " Whoever will save his soul shall lose it," 
 Christ had said. That selfish love of his soul, which is 
 found even in the advanced Christian, that self, which after 
 his conversion had been not absorbed, but overruled by the 
 Spirit of God, gradually recovered strength in his heart, in 
 the presence of disgrace and death. His friends who wished 
 to save him, not understanding that the fallen Bilney would 
 be Bilney no longer, conjured him with tears to have pity on 
 himself; and by these means his firmness was overcome. 
 The bishop pressed him, and Bilney asked himself: " Can a 
 young soldier like me know the rules of war better than 
 an old soldier like Tonstall? Or can a poor silly sheep 
 know his way to the fold better than the chief pastor 
 of London ? " * His friends quitted him neither night 
 nor, day, and, entangled by their fatal affection, he be- 
 lieved at last that he had found a compromise which would 
 set his conscience at rest. "I will preserve my life," he 
 said, " to dedicate it to the Lord." This delusion had 
 scarcely laid hold of his mind before his views were con- 
 fused, his faith was veiled ; the Holy Ghost departed from 
 him ; God gave him over to his carnal thoughts, and under 
 the pretext of being useful to Jesus Christ for many years, 
 Bilney disobeyed him at the present moment. Being led 
 before the bishops on the morning of Saturday the 7th of 
 Foxe, iv. p. 638. 
 
 c2
 
 322 BILNEY'S FALL HIS SPIRITUAL TERROHS. 
 
 December, at nine o'clock, he fell (Arthur had fallen be- 
 fore him), and whilst the false friends who had misled him 
 hardly dared raise their eyes, the living church of Christ in 
 England uttered a cry of anguish. " If ever you come in 
 danger," said Latimer, " for God's quarrel, I would advise 
 you, above all things, to abjure all your friendships ; leave 
 not one unabjured. It is they that shall undo you, and not 
 your enemies. It was his very friends that brought Bilney 
 to it." * 
 
 On the following day (Sunday, 8th December), Bilney was 
 placed at the head of a procession, and the fallen disciple, 
 bareheaded, with a fagot on his shoulders, stood in front of 
 St Paul's cross, while a priest from the pulpit exhorted him 
 to repentance ; after which he was led back to prison. 
 
 What a solitude for the wretched man ! At one time the 
 cold darkness of his cell appeared to him as a burning fire ; 
 at another he fancied he heard accusing voices crying to 
 him in the silence of the night. Death, the very enemy he 
 had wished to avoid, fixed his icy glance upon him and filled 
 him with fear. He strove to escape from the horrible 
 spectre, but in vain. Then the friends who had dragged him 
 into this abyss crowded round and endeavoured to console 
 him ; but if they gave utterance to any of Christ's gentle 
 promises, Bilney started back with affright and shrank to the 
 farthest part of the dungeon, with a cry " as though a man 
 had run him through the heart with a sword." f Having 
 denied the word of God, he could no longer endure to hear 
 it. The curse of the Apocalypse : Ye mountains, hide me 
 from the wrath of the Lamb ! was the only passage of Scrip- 
 ture in harmony with his soul. His mind wandered, the 
 blood froze in his veins, he sank under his terrors ; he lost 
 all sense, and almost his life, and lay motionless in the arms 
 of his astonished friends. " God," exclaimed those unhappy 
 individuals who had caused his fall, " God, by a just judg- 
 ment, delivers up to the tempests of their conscience all who 
 deny his truth." 
 
 This was not the only sorrow of the church. As soon as 
 Richard Bayfield, the late chamberlain of Bury, had joined 
 
 * Latimer's Sermons (Parker's Society), p. 222. t Ibid.
 
 BAYFIELD ARRESTED. 323 
 
 Tyndale and Fryth, he said to them : " I am at your dis- 
 posal ; you shall be my head and I will be your hand ; I 
 will sell your books and those of the German reformers in 
 the Low Countries, France, and England." It was not long 
 indeed before he returned to London. But Pierson, the 
 priest whom he had formerly met in Lombard Street, found 
 him again, and accused him to the bishop. The unhappy 
 man was brought before Tonstall. " You are charged," said 
 the prelate, " with having asserted that praise is due to God 
 alone, and not to saints or creatures."* Bayfield acknowl- 
 edged the charge to be true. " You are accused of main- 
 taining that every priest may preach the word of God by 
 the authority of the gospel without the license of the pope 
 or cardinals." This also Bayfield acknowledged. A pen- 
 ance was imposed on him ; and then he was sent back to 
 his monastery with orders to show himself there on the 25th 
 of April. But he crossed the sea once more, and hastened 
 to join Tyndale. 
 
 The New Testaments, however, sold by him and others, 
 remained in England. At that time the bishops subscribed 
 to suppress the Scriptures, as so many persons have since 
 done to circulate them ; and, accordingly, a great number of 
 the copies brought over by Bayfield and his friends were 
 bought up.-{- A scarcity of food was erelong added to the 1 
 scarcity of the word of God ; for as the cardinal was endea- 
 vouring to foment a war between Henry and the emperor, 
 the Flemish ships ceased to enter the English ports. It was 
 in consequence of this that the lord mayor and aldermen of 
 London hastened to express their apprehensions to Wolsey 
 almost before he had recovered from the fatigues of his re- 
 turn from France. " Fear nothing," he told them ; " the 
 king of France assured me, that if he had three bushels of 
 wheat, England should have two of them." But none 
 arrived, and the people were on the point of breaking out 
 into violence, when a fleet of ships suddenly appeared off the 
 mouth of the Thames. They wereGerman and Flemish 
 vessels laden with corn, in which the worthy people of the 
 
 * That all laud and praise should be given to God alone. Foxe, iv. 
 p. 682. f Anderson Annals of the Bible, i. p. 158.
 
 324 FOURTH EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 Low Countries had also concealed the New Testament. An 
 Antwerp bookseller, named John Kaimond or Ruremond, 
 from his birthplace, had printed a fourth edition more beau- 
 tiful than the previous ones. It was enriched with refer- 
 ences and engravings on wood, and each page bordered with 
 red lines. Raimond himself had embarked on board one of 
 the ships with five hundred copies of his New Testament.* 
 About Christmas 1527, the book of God was circulated in 
 England along with the bread that nourishes the body. But 
 certain priests and monks having discovered the Scriptures 
 among the sacks of corn, they carried several copies to the 
 bishop of London, who threw Raimond into prison. The 
 greater part, however, of the new edition escaped him. The 
 New Testament was read everywhere, and even the court 
 did not escape the contagion. Anne Boleyn, notwithstanding 
 her smiling face, often withdrew to her closet at Greenwich 
 or at Hampton Court, to study the gospel. Frank, coura- 
 geous, and proud, she did not conceal the pleasure she found 
 in such reading; her boldness astonished the courtiers, and 
 exasperated the clergy. In the city things went still farther : 
 the New Testament was explained in frequent conventicles, 
 particularly in the house of one Russell, and great was the 
 joy among the faithful. " It is sufficient only to enter 
 London," said the priests, " to become a heretic !" The Re- 
 formation was taking root among the people before it arrived 
 at the upper classes. 
 
 * Foxe, v. p. 27.
 
 POPERY INTERCUTS THE GOSPEL. 8ti5 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Che Papacy intercepts the Gospel The King consults Sir Thomas More 
 Ecclesiastical Conferences about the Divorce The Universities 
 Clarke The Nun of Kent Wolsey decides to do the King's Will Mis- 
 sion to the Pope Four Documents Embarrassment of Charles V. 
 Francis Philip at Madrid Distress and Resolution of Charles He 
 turns away from the Reformation Conference at the Castle of St 
 Angelo Knight arrives in Italy His Flight Treaty between the 
 Pope and the Emperor Escape of the Pope Confusion of Henry 
 VIII. Wolsey's Orders His Entreaties. 
 
 THE sun of the word of God, which daily grew brighter in 
 the sky of the sixteenth century, was sufficient to scatter all 
 the darkness in England ; but popery, like an immense wall, 
 intercepted its rays. Britain had hardly received the Scrip- 
 tures in Greek and Latin, and then in English, before the 
 priests began to make war upon them with indefatigable 
 zeal. It was necessary that the wall should be thrown 
 down in order that the sun might penetrate freely among 
 the Anglo-Saxon people. And now events were ripening in 
 England, destined to make a great breach in popery. The 
 negotiations of Henry VIII. with Clement VII. play an im- 
 portant part in the Reformation. By showing up the Court 
 of Rome, they destroyed the respect which the people felt 
 for it ; they took away that power and strength, as Scripture 
 says, which the monarchy had given it ; and the throne ot 
 the pope once fallen in England, Jesus Christ uplifted and 
 strengthened his own. 
 
 Henry, ardently desiring an heir, and thinking that he had 
 found the woman that would ensure his own and England's 
 happiness, conceived the design of severing the ties that 
 united him to the queen, and with this view he consulted his 
 most favourite councillors about the divorce. There was 
 one in particular whose approval he coveted : this was Sir 
 Thomas More. One day as Erasmus's friend was walking
 
 326 CONFERENCES ABOUT THE DIVORCE. 
 
 with his master in th^e beautiful gallery at Hampton Court, 
 giving him an account (jf a mission he had just executed on 
 the continent, the king suddenly interrupted him : " My 
 marriage with the queen," he said, " is contrary to the laws 
 of God, of the church, and of nature." He then took up the 
 Bible, and pointed out the passages in his favour.* " I am 
 not a theologian," said More, somewhat embarrassed " your 
 majesty should consult a council of doctors." 
 
 Accordingly, by Henry's order, Warham assembled the 
 most learned canonists at Hampton Court ; but weeks passed 
 away before they could agree.-]- Most of them quoted in the 
 king's favour those passages in Leviticus (xviii. 16 ; xx. 21,) 
 which forbid a man to take his brother's wife.\ But Fisher, 
 bishop of Rochester, and the other opponents of the divorce, 
 replied that, according to Deuteronomy (xxv. 5,) when a 
 woman is left a widow without children, her brother-in-law 
 ought to take her to wife, to perpetuate his brother's name 
 in Israel. " This law concerned the Jews only," replied the 
 partisans of the divorce ; they added that its object was " to 
 maintain the inheritances distinct, and the genealogies in- 
 tact, until the coming of Christ. The Judaical dispensation 
 has passed away ; but the law of Leviticus, which is a moral 
 law, is binding upon all men in all ages." 
 
 To free themselves from their embarrassment, the bishops 
 demanded that the most eminent universities should be con- 
 sulted; and commissioners were forthwith despatched to 
 Oxford, Cambridge, Paris, Orleans, Toulouse, Louvain, Padua, 
 and Bologna, furnished with money to reward the foreign 
 doctors for the time and trouble this question would cost 
 them. This caused some little delay, and every means was 
 now to be tried to divert the king from his purpose. 
 
 Wolsey, who was the first to suggest the idea of a divorce, 
 was now thoroughly alarmed. It appeared to him that a 
 nod from the daughter of the Boleyns would hurl him from 
 
 * Laid the Bible open before me, and showed me the words. More to 
 Cromwell, Strype, i. 2d part, p. 97. 
 
 f Consulting from day to day, and time to time. Cavendish, p. 209. 
 
 Ex his doctoribus asseritur quod Papa non potest dispensare in prime 
 gradu affinitatis. Barnet's Reform, ii. Records,*p. 8 (Lond. 1841).
 
 CLARKE'S OBJECTION. 327 
 
 the post he had so laboriously won, ar\d this made him vent 
 his ill-humour on all about him, at one time threatening 
 Warham, and at another persecuting Pace. But fearing to 
 oppose Henry openly, he summoned from Paris, Clarke, 
 bishop of Bath and Wells, at that time ambassador to the 
 French court. The latter entered into his views, and after 
 cautiously preparing the way, he ventured to say to the king : 
 " The progress of the inquiry will be so slow, your majesty, 
 that it will take more than seven years to bring it to an end !" 
 " Since my patience has already held out for eighteen years," 
 the king replied coldly; " I am willing to wait four or five 
 more."* 
 
 As the political party had failed, the clerical party set in 
 motion a scheme of another kind. A young woman, Eliza- 
 beth Barton, known as the holy maid of Kent, had been sub- 
 ject from childhood to epileptic fits. The priest of her parish, 
 named Masters, had persuaded her that she was inspired of 
 God, and confederating with one Bocking, a monk of Canter- 
 bury, he turned the weakness of the prophetess to account. 
 Elizabeth wandered over the country, passing from house to 
 house, and from convent to convent ; on a sudden her limbs 
 would become rigid, her features distorted ; violent convul- 
 sions shook her body, and strange unintelligible sounds fell 
 from her lips, which the amazed bystanders received as re- 
 velations from the Virgin and the saints. Fisher, bishop of 
 Rochester, Abel, the queen's ecclesiastical agent, and even 
 Sir Thomas More, were among the number of Elizabeth's 
 partisans. Rumours of the divorce having reached the saint's 
 ears, an angel commanded her to appear before the cardinal. 
 As soon as she stood in his presence, the colour fled from 
 her cheeks, her limbs trembled, and falling into an ecstasy, 
 she exclaimed : " Cardinal of York, God has placed three 
 swords in your hand : the spiritual sword, to range the church 
 under the authority of the pope ; the civil sword, to govern 
 the realm ; and the sword of justice, to prevent the divorce 
 of the king If you do not wield these three swords faith- 
 
 * Since his patieneo had already held out for eighteen years. CoUyer, 
 ii. p. 24.
 
 328 FOUK DOCUMENTS REQUIRED OP THE 1'OPE. 
 
 fully, God will lay it sore to your charge."* After these 
 words the prophetess withdrew. 
 
 But other influences were then dividjng Wolsey's breast: 
 hatred, which induced him to oppose the divorce ; and am- 
 bition, which forboded his ruin in this opposition. At last 
 ambition prevailed, and he resolved to make his objections 
 forgotten by the energy of his zeal. 
 
 Henry hastened to profit by this change. " Declare the 
 divorce yourself," said he to Wolsey ; " has not the pope 
 named you his vicar-general ?"-J- The cardinal was not 
 anxious to raise himself so high. " If I were to decide the 
 affair," said he, " the queen would appeal to the pope, 
 we must therefore either apply to the holy father for special 
 powers, or persuade the queen to retire to a nunnery. And 
 if we fail in either of these expedients, we will obey the 
 voice of conscience, even in despite of the pope.":}: It was 
 arranged to begin with the more regular attempt, and Gre- 
 gory Da Casale, secretary Knight, and the prothonotary 
 Gambara, were appointed to an extraordinary mission at the 
 pontifical court. Casale was Wolsey's man, and Knight was 
 Henry's. Wolsey told the envoys : " You will demand of 
 the pope, Istly, a commission authorizing me to inquire into 
 this matter ; 2dly : his promise to pronounce the nullity of 
 Catherine's marriage with Henry, if we should find that her 
 marriage with Arthur was consummated ; and 3dly, a dis- 
 pensation permitting the king to marry again." In this 
 manner Wolsey hoped to make sure of the divorce without 
 damaging the papal authority. It was insinuated that false 
 representations, with regard to the consummation of the first 
 marriage, had been sent from England to Julius II., which 
 had induced the pontiff to permit the second. The pope be- 
 ing deceived as to the fact, his infallibility was untouched, 
 Wolsey desired something more ; knowing that no confidence 
 
 * Strype, vol. i. part i. p. 279. 
 
 f- When Napoleon, from similar motives, desired to separate from 
 Josephine, fearing the unwillingness of the pope (as Henry did), he en- 
 tertained, like him, the design of doing without the pontiff, and of getting 
 his marriage annulled by the French bishops. As he was more powerful, 
 he succeeded. 
 
 J Quid possit clam fieri quoad forum conscientise. Collyer, ii. p. 24.
 
 THE POPE CANNO1 ERR. 329 
 
 could be put in the good faitli of the pontiff, lie demanded a 
 fourth instrument, by which the pope should bind himself 
 never to recall the other three ; he only forgot to take pre- 
 cautions in case Clement should withdraw the fourth. " With 
 these four snares, skilfully combined," said the cardinal, " I 
 shall catch the hare; if he escapes from one, he will fall into 
 the other." The courtiers anticipated a speedy termination 
 of the affair. Was not the emperor the declared enemy ot 
 the pontiff? Had not Henry, on the contrary, made -himself 
 protector of the Clementine league ? Could Clement hesitate, 
 when called upon, to choose between his jailer and his 
 benefactor ? 
 
 Indeed, Charles V., at this moment, was in a very em- 
 barrassing position. It is true, his guards were posted at 
 the gates of the castle of St Angelo, where Clement was a 
 prisoner, and people in Rome said to one another with a 
 smile: " Now indeed it is true, Papa non potest errare. n * 
 But it was not possible to keep the pope a prisoner in Rome ; 
 and then what was to be done with him ? The viceroy of 
 Naples proposed to Alercon, the governor of St Angelo, to 
 remove Clement to Gaeta; but the affrighted colonel ex- 
 claimed : " Heaven forbid that I should drag after me the 
 very body of God !" Charles thought one time of transport- 
 ing the pontiff to Spain ; but might not an enemy's fleet 
 carry him off on the road ? The pope in prison was far more 
 embarrassing to Charles than the pop*e at liberty. 
 
 It was at this critical time that Francis Philip, Queen 
 Catherine's servant, having escaped the snares laid by Henry 
 VIII. and Wolsey, arrived at Madrid, where he passed a 
 whole day in conference with Charles V. This prince was 
 at first astonished, shocked even, by the designs of the king 
 of England. The curse of God seemed to hang over his 
 house. His mother was a lunatic ; his sister of Denmark 
 expelled from her dominions ; his sister of Hungary made a 
 widow by the battle of Mohacz; the Turks were encroaching 
 upon his territories; Lautrec was victorious in Italy, and 
 
 * The pope cannot err, a play upon the double meaning of the word 
 errare. 
 
 VOL. Y. 15
 
 330 CHARLES TURNS TOWARDS CLEMENT. 
 
 the catholics, irritated by the pope's captivity, detested his 
 ambition. This was not enough. Henry VIII. was striving 
 to divorce his aunt, and the pope would naturally give his 
 aid to this criminal design. Charles must choose between 
 the pontiff and the king. The friendship of the king of 
 England might aid him in breaking the league formed to 
 expel him from Italy, and by sacrificing Catherine he would 
 be sure to obtain his support ; but placed between reasons 
 of state and his aunt's honour, the emperor did not hesitate; 
 he even renounced certain projects of reform that he had at 
 heart. He suddenly decided for the pope, and from that 
 very hour followed a new course. 
 
 Charles, who possessed great discernment, had understood 
 his age ; he had seen that concessions were called for by the 
 movement of the human mind, and would have desired to 
 carry out the change from the middle ages to modern times 
 by a carefully managed transition. He had consequently 
 demanded a council to reform the church and weaken the 
 Romish dominion in Europe. But very different was the 
 result. If Charles turned away from Henry, he was obliged 
 to turn towards Clement; and after having compelled the 
 head of the church to enter a prison, it was necessary to 
 place him once more upon the throne. Charles V. sacrificed 
 the interests of Christian society to the interests of his own 
 family. This divorce, which in England has been looked 
 upon as the ruin of thepopedom, was what saved it in con- 
 tinental Europe. 
 
 But how could the emperor win the heart of the pontiff, 
 filled as it was with bitterness and anger ? He selected for 
 this difficult mission a friar of great ability, De Angelis, 
 general of the Spanish Observance, and ordered him to pro- 
 ceed to the castle of St Angelo under the pretext of nego- 
 tiating the liberation of the holy father. The cordelier was 
 conducted to the strongest part of the fortress, called the 
 Rock, where Clement was lodged; and the two priests 
 brought all their craft to bear on each other. The monk, 
 assisted by the artful Moncade, adroitly mingled together 
 the pope's deliverance and Catherine's marriage. He af-
 
 A CONFERENCE AT ST ANGELO. 331 
 
 firmed that the emperor wished to open the gates of the 
 pontiffs prison, and had already given the order;* and then 
 he added immediately : " The emperor is determined to main- 
 tain the rights of his aunt, and will never consent to the 
 divorce."-}- " If you are a -700^ shepherd to me," wrote 
 Charles to the pope with his own hand on the 22d of No- 
 vember, " I will be a good sheep to you." Clement smiled 
 as he read these words ; he understood his position ; the 
 emperor had need of the. priest, Charles was at his captive's 
 feet; Clement was saved! The divorce was a rope fallen 
 from the skies which could not fail to drag him out of the 
 pit ; he had only to cling to it quietly in order to reascend 
 his throne. Accordingly from that hour Clement appeared 
 less eager to quit the castle than Charles to liberate him. 
 " So long as the divorce is in suspense," thought the crafty 
 De' Medici, " I have two great friends ; but as soon as I 
 declare for one, I shall have a mortal enemy in the other." 
 He promised the monk to come to no decision in the matter 
 without informing the emperor. 
 
 Meantime Knight, the envoy of the impatient monarch, 
 having heard, as he crossed the Alps, that the pope was at 
 liberty, hastened on to Parma, where he met Gambara : 
 " He is not free yet," replied the prothonotary ; " but the 
 general of the Franciscans hopes to terminate his captivity 
 in a few days.}: Continue your journey," he added. Knight 
 could not do so without great danger. He was told at 
 Foligno, sixty miles from the metropolis, that if he had not 
 a safe-conduct he could not reach Rome without exposing 
 his life ; Knight halted. Just then a messenger from Henry 
 brought him despatches more pressing than ever; Knight 
 started again with one servant and a guide. At Monte 
 Rotondo he was nearly murdered by the inhabitants; but 
 on the next day (25th November), protected by a violent 
 
 * La Ca'sarea Majesta si come grandamente desidera la liberatione de 
 nostro signer, cosi cfficacementc la manda. Capituli, etc. Le Grand, 
 iii. p. 48. 
 
 f That in anywise he should not consent to the same. State Papers, 
 vii. p. 29. 
 
 Quod sperabat intra paucos dies auferre sun? Sanctitati squalorem et 
 tenebras. Stat Papers, vii. p. 13.
 
 it32 KNIGHT ARRIVES IN ITALY. 
 
 storm of wind and rain,* Henry's envoy entered Rome at ten 
 o'clock without being observed, and kept himself concealed. 
 
 It was impossible to speak with Clement, for the emperor's 
 orders were positive. Knight, therefore, began to practise 
 upon the cardinals; he gained over the cardinal of Pisa, 
 by whose means his despatches were laid before the pontiff. 
 Clement after reading them laid them down with a smile of 
 satisfaction.-}- " Good !" said he, " here is the other coining 
 to me now!" But night had harcjly closed in before the 
 cardinal of Pisa's secretary hastened to Knight and told 
 him:." Don Alercon is informed of your arrival; and the 
 pope entreats you to depart immediately." This officer had 
 scarcely left him, when the prothonotary Gambara arrived in 
 great agitation : " Hjs holiness presses you to leave ; as 
 soon as he is at liberty, he will attend to your master's re- 
 quest." Two hours after this, two hundred Spanish soldiers 
 arrived, surrounded the house in which Knight had concealed 
 himself, and searched it from top to bottom, but to no pur- 
 pose; the English agent had 'escaped.:}: 
 
 Knight's safety was not the true motive which induced 
 Clement to urge his departure. The very day on which the 
 pope received the message from the king of England, he 
 signed a treaty with Charles V., restoring him, under certain 
 conditions, to both his powers. At the same time the pon- 
 tiff, for greater security, pressed the French general Lautrec 
 to hasten his march to Rome in order to save him from the 
 hands of the emperor. Clement, a disciple of Machiavelli, 
 thus gave the right hand to Charles and the left to Francis ; 
 and as he had not another for Henry, he made him the most 
 positive promises. Each of the three princes could reckon 
 on the pope's friendship, and on the same grounds. 
 
 The 10th of December (1527) was the day on which Cle- 
 ment's imprisonment would terminate ; but he preferred 
 owing his freedom to intrigue rather than to the emperor's 
 
 * Veari trobelous with wynde and rayne, and therefore more mete for 
 our voyage. State Papers, vii. p. 16. 
 
 t Reponed the same saufly, as Gambara showed unto me. Ibid. p. 17. 
 
 + I was not passed out of Rome, by the space of two hours, ere two 
 hundred Spaniards invaded and searched the house. Burnet, Records f 
 it. p. 12
 
 THE KING'S REMORSE. 333 
 
 generosity. He therefore procured the dress of a tradesman 
 and, on the evening before the day fixed for his deliverance, 
 his ward being already much relaxed, he escaped from tht 
 castle, and, accompanied only by Louis of Gonzago in his 
 flight, he made his way to Orvieto. 
 
 While Clement was experiencing all the joy of a man just 
 escaped from prison, Henry was a prey to the most violent 
 agitation. Having ceased to love Catherine, he persuaded 
 himself that he was*the victim of his father's ambition, a 
 martyr to duty, and the champion of conjugal sanctity. His 
 very gait betrayed his vexation, and even among the gay 
 conversation of the court, deep sighs would escape from his 
 bosom. He had frequent interviews with Wolsey. " I re- 
 gard the safety of my soul above all things,"* he said ; " but 
 I am concerned also for the peace of my kingdom. For a 
 long while an unceasing remorse has been gnawing at my 
 conscience,-!- and my thoughts dwell upon my marriage with 
 unutterable sorrow.:): God, in his wrath, has taken away 
 my sons, and if I persevere in this unlawful union, he will 
 visit me with still more terrible chastisements. My only 
 hope is in the holy father." Wolsey replied with a low bow : 
 " Please your majesty, I am occupied with this business, as 
 if it were my only means of winning heaven." 
 
 And indeed he redoubled his exertions. He wrote to Sir 
 Gregory Da Casale on the 5th of December (1527): " You 
 will procure an audience of the pope at any price. Disguise 
 yourself, appear before him as the servant of some nobleman, || 
 or as a messenger from the duke of Ferrara. Scatter money 
 plentifully ; sacrifice everything, provided you procure a se- 
 cret interview with his holiness ; ten thousand ducats are at 
 your disposal. You will explain to Clement the king's 
 scruples, and the necessity of providing for the continuance 
 of his house and the peace of his kingdom. You will tell 
 him that in order to restore him to liberty, the king is ready 
 
 * Deumque primo et ante omnia ac aninue sum quietem et salutcm 
 respiciens. Burnct's Reformation, ii. Records, p. vii. 
 
 + Longo jam temporo intimo suae conscientise remorsu. Ibid. 
 
 * Ingenti cum molestia cordisque perturbatioue. Ibid. 
 Graviusque a Deo supplicium expavcscit. Ibid. p. viii. 
 3 Mutato halitu et tanquam alicujus minister. Ibid.
 
 334 WOLSEY'S ALTEKNATIVE. 
 
 to declare war against the emperor, and thus show himself 
 to all the world to be a true son of the church." 
 
 Wolsey saw clearly that it was essential to represent the 
 divorce to Clement VII. as a means likely to secure the safety 
 of the popedom. The cardinal, therefore, wrote again to Da 
 Casale on the 6th of December: " Night and day, I revolve 
 in my mind the actual condition of the church,* and seek the 
 means best calculated to extricate the pope from the gulf into 
 which he has fallen. While I was turning these thoughts 
 over in my mind during a sleepless night one way sud- 
 denly occurred to me. I said to myself, the king must be 
 prevailed upon to undertake the defence of the holy father. 
 This was no easy matter, for his majesty is strongly attached 
 to the emperor ;f however, I set about my task. I told the 
 king that his holiness was ready to satisfy him ; I staked 
 
 my honour; I succeeded To save the pope, my master 
 
 will sacrifice his treasures, subjects, kingdom, and even his 
 
 lifef I therefore conjure his holiness to entertain our just 
 
 demand." 
 
 Never before had such pressing entreaties been made to a 
 pope. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The English Envoys at Orvieto Their Oration to the Pope Clement 
 gains Time The Envoys and Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor Stratagem 
 of the Pope Knight discovers it and returns The Transformations of 
 Antichrist The English obtain a new Document Fresh Stratagem 
 Demand of a second Cardinal-legate The Pope's new Expedient End 
 of the Campaign. 
 
 THE envoys of the king of England appeared in the character 
 of the saviours of Home. This was doubtless no stratagem ; 
 
 * Diuque ac noctu mente volvens quo facto. State Papers, vii. p. 18. 
 + Adeo tenaciter Csesari adhserebat. Ibid. 
 $ Usque ad mortem. Ibid. p. 19.
 
 ENGLISH ENVOYS AND THE POPE. 335 
 
 and Wolsey probably regarded ^at thought as coming from 
 heaven, which had visited him during the weary sleepless 
 night. The zeal of his agents increased. The pope was 
 hardly set at liberty, before Knight and Da Casale appeared 
 at the foot of the precipitous rock on which Orvieto is built, 
 and demanded to be introduced to Clement VII. Nothing 
 could be more compromising to the pontiff than such a visit. 
 How could he appear on good terms with England, when 
 Rome and all his states were still in the hands of Catherine's 
 nephew? The pope's mind was utterly bewildered by the 
 demand of the two envoys. He recovered however to reject 
 the powerful hand extended to him by England was not 
 without its danger ; and as he knew well how to bring a 
 difficult negotiation to a successful conclusion, Clement re- 
 gained confidence in his skill, and gave orders to introduce 
 Henry's ambassadors. 
 
 Their discourse was not without eloquence. " Never was 
 the church in a more critical position," said they. "The 
 unmeasured ambition of the kings who claim to dispose of 
 spiritual affairs at their own pleasure (this was aimed at 
 Charles V.) holds the apostolical bark suspended over an 
 abyss. The only port open to it in the tempest is the favour 
 of the august prince whom we represent, and who has always 
 been the shield of the faith. But, alas ! this monarch, the 
 impregnable bulwark of your holiness, is himself the prey of 
 tribulations almost equal to your own. His conscience torn 
 by remorse, his crown without an heir, his kingdom without 
 security, his people exposed once more to perpetual disorders 
 
 Nay, the whole Christian world given up to the most 
 
 cruel discord.* Such are the consequences of a fatal union 
 
 which God has marked with his displeasure There are 
 
 also," they added in a lower tone, " certain things of which 
 
 his majesty cannot speak in his letter certain incurable 
 
 disorders under which the queen suffers, which will never 
 permit the king to look upon her again as his wife.f If your 
 
 * Discordioe crudelissimse per omnem christianum orbem. State Pa- 
 pers, vii. p. 19. 
 
 f Nonnulla sunt secreta S.D.N. secrete exponenda et non credend.i 
 
 scriptis ob morbos nonnullos quibus absque remedio regina laborat. 
 
 Ibid.
 
 336 CLEMENT'S EMBARRASSMENT. 
 
 holiness puts an end to such wretchedness by annulling his 
 unlawful marriage, you wilfattach his majesty by an indis- 
 soluble bond. Assistance, riches, armies, crown, and even 
 life the king our master is ready to employ all in the ser- 
 vice of Koine. He stretches out his hand to you, most holy 
 
 father stretch out yours to him ; by your union the church 
 
 will be saved, and Europe will be saved with it." 
 
 Clement was cruelly embarrassed. His policy consisted 
 in holding the balance between the two princes, and he was 
 now called upon to decide in favour of one of them. He 
 began to regret that he had ever received Henry's ambassa- 
 dors. " Consider my position," he said to them, " and en- 
 treat the king to wait until more favourable events leave me 
 at liberty to act." "What!" replied Knight proudly, "has 
 not your holiness promised to consider his majesty's prayer ? 
 If you fail in your promise now, how can I persuade the king 
 that you will keep it some future day ? " * Da Casale thought 
 the time had come to strike a decisive blow. " What evils," 
 he exclaimed, " what inevitable misfortunes your refusal 
 
 will create! The emperor thinks only of depriving the 
 
 church of its power, and the king of England alone has sworn 
 to maintain it." Then speaking lower, more slowly, and 
 dwelling upon every word, he continued : " We fear that 
 
 his majesty, reduced to such extremities of the two 
 
 evils will choose the leastfi and supported by the purity oi 
 
 his intentions, will do of his own authority what he 
 
 now so respectfully demands What should we see then ? 
 
 I shudder at the thought Let not your holiness 
 
 indulge in a false security which will inevitably drag you 
 
 into the abyss Read all remark all divine all 
 
 take note of all.J Most holy father, this is a question 
 
 of life and death." And Da Casale's tone said more than his 
 words. 
 
 Clement understood that a positive refusal would expose 
 him to lose England. Placed between Henry and Charles, 
 as between the hammer and the forge, he resolved to gain 
 
 * Perform the promise once broken. Burnet's Ref. ii. Records, p. xiii. 
 f" Ex duobus malis minus malum eligat. State Papers, vii. p. 20. 
 J Ut non grayetur, cuncta legere, et bene notare. Ibid. p. 18,
 
 PAPAL DELAYS. 337 
 
 time. "Well then," he said to Knight and Da Casale, "I 
 will do what you ask ; but I am not familiar with the/orms 
 
 these dispensations require I will consult the Cardinal 
 
 tianctomm Quatuor on the subject and then will inform 
 
 you." 
 
 Knight and Da Casale, wishing to anticipate Clement VIL, 
 hastened to Lorenzo Pucci, cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and 
 intimated to him that their master would know how to be 
 grateful. The cardinal assured the deputies of his affection 
 for Henry VIII., and they, in the fulness of their gratitude, 
 laid before him the four documents which they were anxious 
 to get executed. But the cardinal had hardly looked at the 
 first the proposal that Wolsey should decide the matter of 
 the divorce in England wluen he exclaimed : " Impossible ! 
 
 a bull in such terms would cover with eternal disgrace 
 
 not only his holiness and the king, but even the cardinal of 
 York himself." The deputies were confounded, for Wolsey 
 had ordered them to ask the pope for nothing but his signa- 
 ture.* Recovering themselves, they rejoined : " All that we 
 require is a competent commission." On his part, the pope 
 wrote Henry a letter, in which he managed to say nothing. { 
 
 Of the four required documents there were two on whose 
 immediate despatch Knight and Da Casale insisted : these 
 were the commission to pronounce the divorce, and the dis- 
 pensation to contract a second marriage. The dispensation 
 without the commission was of no value ; this the pope knew 
 well ; accordingly he resolved to give the dispensation only. 
 It was as if Charles had granted Clement when in prison 
 permission to visit his cardinals, but denied him liberty to 
 leave the castle of St Angelo. It is in such a manner as this 
 that a religious system transformed into a political system 
 has recourse, when it is without power, to stratagem. " The 
 commission" said the artful Medici to Knight, " must be cor- 
 rected according to the style of our court ; but here is the 
 dispensation" Knight took the document ; it was addressed 
 
 * Alia nulla re esset opus, prasterquam cjus Sanctitatis signature. 
 State Papers, vii. p. 29. 
 
 t Charissime in Christo fili, &c., dated 7th December 1527. IbkL 
 'p. 27. 
 
 15* P
 
 338 KNIGHT DUPED BY THE POPE. 
 
 to Henry VIII. and ran thus : " We accord to you, in case 
 your marriage with Catherine shall be declared null,* free 
 liberty to take another wife, provided she have not been the 
 
 wife of your brother " The Englishman was duped by 
 
 the Italian. " To my poor judgment," he said, " this docu- 
 ment will be of use to us." After this Clement appeared to 
 concern himself solely about Knight's health, and suddenly 
 manifested the greatest interest for him. " It is proper that 
 you should hasten your departure," said he, " for it is neces- 
 sary that you should travel at your ease. Gambara will 
 follow you post, and bring the commission." Knight thus 
 mystified, took leave of the pope, who got rid of Da Casale 
 and Gambara in a similar manner. He then began to breathe 
 once more. There was no diplomacy in Europe which Rome, 
 even in its greatest weakness, could not easily dupe. 
 
 It had now become necessary to elude the commission. 
 While the king's envoys were departing in good spirits, 
 reckoning on the document that was to follow them, the 
 general of the Spanish Observance reiterated to the pontiff 
 in every tone : " Be careful to give no document authorizing 
 the divorce, and above all, do not permit this affair to be 
 judged in Henry's states." The cardinals drew up the do- 
 cument under the influence of De Angelis, and made it a 
 masterpiece of insignificance. If good theology ennobles the 
 heart, bad theology, so fertile in subtleties, imparts to the 
 mind a skill by no means common ; and hence the most cele- 
 brated diplomatists have often been churchmen. The act 
 being thus drawn up, the pope despatched three copies, to 
 Knight, to Da Casale, and to Gambara. Knight was near 
 Bologna when the courier overtook him. He was stupified, 
 and taking post-horses, returned with all haste to Orvieto.-J- 
 Gambara proceeded through France to England with the 
 useless dispensation which the. pope had granted. 
 
 Knight had thought to meet with more good faith at thrc 
 court of the pope than with kings, and he had been out- 
 witted. What would Wolsey and Henry say of his folly ? 
 
 * Matrimonium cum Calharina nnllum fuissc et esse declarari. Her- 
 bert's Henry VIII. p. 280. 
 t Burnet's Reformation, Records, ii. p. xiii.
 
 TRANSFORMATION OF ANTICHRIST. 339 
 
 His wounded self-esteem began to make him believe all that 
 Tyndale and Luther said of the popedom. The former had 
 just published the Obedience of a Christian Man, and the 
 Parable of the Wicked Mammon, in which he represented 
 Rome as one of the transformations of Antichrist. " Anti- 
 christ," said he in the latter treatise, "is not a man that 
 should suddenly appear with wonders ; he is a spiritual 
 thing, who was in the Old Testament, and also in the time 
 of Christ and the apostles, and is now, and shall (I doubt 
 not) endure till the world's end. His nature is (when he is 
 overcome with the word of God) to go out of the play for a 
 season, and to disguise himself, and then to come in again 
 with a new name and new raiment. The Scribes and Pha- 
 risees in the gospel were very Antichrists ; popes, cardinals, 
 and bishops have gotten their new names, but the thing is 
 all one. Even so now, when we have uttered [detected] 
 him, he will change himself once more, and turn himself into 
 an angel of light. Already the beast, seeing himself now to be 
 sought for, roareth and seeketh new holes to hide himself in, 
 and changeth himself into a thousand fashions."* This idea, 
 paradoxical at first, gradually made its way into men's minds. 
 The Romans, by their practices, familiarized the English to 
 the somewhat coarse descriptions of the reformers. England 
 was to have many sucn lessons, and thus by degrees learn to 
 set Rome aside for the sake of her own glory and prosperity. 
 Knight and Da Casale reached Orvieto about the same 
 time. Clement replied with sighs : " Alas 1 I am the 
 emperor's prisoner. The imperialists are every day pil- 
 laging towns and castles in our neighbourhood. -j- 
 
 Wretch that I am! I have not a friend except the king 
 your master, and he is far away If I should do any- 
 thing now to displease Charles, I am a lost man To 
 
 sign the commission would be to sign an eternal rupture 
 with him." But Knight and Da Casale pleaded so effectu- 
 ally with Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and so pressed Cle- 
 
 * Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 42, 43. 
 
 + The imperialists do daily spoil castles and towns about Rome 
 
 they have taken within three days two castles lying within six miles of 
 this. Burnet's Ref. vcl. ii. Records, p. xiii.
 
 340 NEW STRATAGEM. 
 
 ment, that the pontiff, without the knowledge of tile Spaniard 
 De Angelis, gave them a more satisfactory document, but 
 not such as Wolsey required. -" In giving you this com- 
 mission," said the pope, " I am giving away my liberty, and 
 perhaps my life. I listen not to the voice of prudence, but 
 to that of affection only. I confide in the generosity of the 
 king of England, he is the master of my destiny." He then 
 began to weep,* and seemed ready to faint. Knight, for- 
 getting his vexation, promised Clement that the king would 
 do everything to save him. "Ah! "said the pope, " there 
 is one effectual means." "What is that?" inquired Henry's 
 agents. " M. Lautrec, who says daily that he will come, but 
 never does," replied Clement, " has only to bring the French 
 army promptly before the gates of Orvieto ; then I could 
 excuse myself by saying that he constrained me to sign the 
 commission."-}- "Nothing is easier," replied the envoys, "we 
 will go and hasten his arrival." 
 
 Clement was not even now at ease. The safety of the 
 
 Roman church troubled him not less than his own 
 
 Charles might discover the trick, and make the popedom 
 suffer for it. There was danger on all sides. If the Eng- 
 lish spoke of independence, did not the emperor threaten a 
 
 reform? The catholic princes, said the papal councillors, 
 
 are capable, without perhaps a single exception, of support- 
 ing the cause of Luther to gratify a criminal ambition. J 
 The pope reflected, and withdrawing his word, promised to 
 give the commission when Lautrec was under the walls of 
 Orvieto; but the English agents insisted on having it im- 
 mediately. To conciliate all, it was agreed that the pope 
 should give the required document at once, but as soon as 
 the French army arrived, he should send another copy bear- 
 ing the date of the day on which he saw Lautrec. " Beseech 
 the king to keep secret the commission I give you," said 
 Clement VII. to Knight ; " if he begins the process imme- 
 
 * Cum suspiriis et lacrymis. Burnet's Ref. vol. ii. Records, p. xii. 
 
 f And by this colour he would cover the matter. Ibid. 
 
 Non potest Sua Sanctitas sibi persuadere ipsos principes (ut forte 
 aliqui jactant) assumpturos sectam Lutheranam contra ecclesiam. State 
 Papers, Tii. p. 47. Ibid. p. 36.
 
 HENRY DEMANDS ANOTIIEU J.EGATE. 341 
 
 diately he receives it, I am undone for ever."* The pope 
 thus gave permission to act, on condition of not acting at 
 all. Knight took leave on the 1st of January 1528 ; lie 
 promised all the pontiff desired, and then, as if fearing some 
 fresh difficulty, he departed the same day. Da Casale, on 
 his side, after having offered the Cardinal Sanctorum Qua- 
 tuor a gift of 4000 crowns, which he refused, repaired to 
 Lautrec, to heg him to constrain the pope to sign a docu- 
 ment which was already on its way to England. 
 
 But while the business seemed to be clearing at Rome, it 
 was becoming more complicated in London. The king's 
 project got wind, and Catherine gave way to the liveliest 
 sorrow. "I shall protest," said she, "against the commis- 
 sion given to the cardinal of York. Is he not the king's 
 subject, the vile flatterer of his pleasures?" Catherine did 
 not resist alone ; the people, who hated the cardinal, could 
 not with pleasure see him invested with such authority. To 
 obviate this inconvenience, Henry resolved to ask the pope 
 for another cardinal, who should be empowered to terminate 
 the affair in London with or without Wolsey. 
 
 The latter agreed to the measure : it is even possible that 
 he was the first to suggest it, for he feared to bear alone the 
 responsibility of so hateful an inquiry. Accordingly, on the 
 27th of December, he wrote to the king's agents at Rome: 
 " Procure the envoy of a legate, and particularly of an able, 
 
 .easy, manageable legate desirous of meriting the king's 
 
 favour,-{- Campeggio for instance. You will earnestly re- 
 quest the cardinal who may be selected, to travel with all 
 diligence, and you will assure him that the king will behave 
 liberally towards him."J 
 
 Knight reached Asti on the 10th of January, where he 
 found letters with fresh orders. This was another check : 
 at one time it is the pope who compels him to retrograde, at 
 another it is the king. Henry's unlucky valetudinarian se- 
 
 * Is fully in yonr pnissance with publishing of the commission to de- 
 stroy for ever. State Papers, vii. p. 36. 
 
 f Eruilitus, indifferens, tractabilis, de regia majestate bene merendi 
 cnpidus. Ibid. p. 33. 
 
 J Regia majestas sumptus, labores. atqne molestias liberalissime com- 
 pensct. Ibid. p. 34.
 
 342 THE POPE'S NEW EXPEDIENT. 
 
 cretary, a man very susceptible of fatigue, and already wea- 
 ried and exhausted by ten painful journeys, was in a very 
 bad humour. He determined to permit Gambara to cany 
 the two documents to England ; to commission Da Casale, 
 who had not left the pope's neighbourhood, to solicit the 
 despatch of the legate ; and as regarded himself, to go and 
 wait for further orders at Turin : " If it be thought good 
 unto the king's highness that I do return unto Orvieto, I 
 shall do as much as my poor carcass may endure."* 
 
 When Da Casale reached Bologna, he pressed Lautrec to 
 go and constrain the pontiff to sign the act which Gambara 
 was already bearing to England. On receiving the new 
 despatches he returned in ail haste to Orvieto, and the pope 
 was very much alarmed when he heard of his arrival. He 
 had feared to grant a simple paper, destined to remain se- 
 cret ; and now he is required to send a prince of the church ! 
 Will Henry never be satisfied ? " The mission you desire 
 would be full of dangers," he replied ; " but we have dis- 
 covered another means, alone calculated to finish this busi- 
 ness. Mind you do not say that I pointed it out to you," 
 added the pope in a mysterious tone ; " but that it was sug- 
 gested by Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor and Simonetta." Da 
 Casale was all attention. " There is not a doctor in the 
 world who can better decide on this matter, and on its most 
 private circumstances, than the king himself.-}- If therefore 
 he sincerely believes that Catherine had really become his 
 brother's wife, let him empower the cardinal of York to pro- 
 nounce the divorce, and let him take another wife without 
 any further ceremony ; ^ he can then afterwards demand the 
 confirmation of the consistory. The affair being concluded 
 in this way, I will take the rest upon myself." " But," said 
 Da Casale, somewhat dissatisfied with this new intrigue, " I 
 must fulfil my mission, and the king demands a legate." 
 " And whom shall I send ?" asked Clement. " Da Monte? 
 he cannot move. De Csesis? he is at Naples. Ara Cceli? 
 
 * Burnet's Ref. vol. ii., Records, p. xiii. 
 
 f Nullus doctor in mundo est, qui de bac- re melius deceracre possit 
 tjiiam ipse rex. Ibid. p. xiv. 
 t Aliam uxorcm ducat. Ibid.
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT IN ENGLAND. 343 
 
 he has the gout. Piccolomini ? he is of the imperial party 
 
 Campeggio would be the best, but he is at Rome, where 
 
 he supplies my place, and cannot leave without peril to the 
 
 church." And then with some emotion he added, "I throw 
 
 myself into his majesty's arms. The emperor will never 
 forgive what I am doing. If he hears of it he will summon 
 me before his council; I shall have no rest until he has de- 
 prived me of my throne and my life."* 
 
 Da Casale hastened to forward to London the result of the 
 conference. Clement being unable to untie the knot, re- 
 quested Henry to cut it. Will this prince hesitate to employ 
 so easy a means, the pope (Clement declared it himself) be- 
 ing willing to ratify everything ? 
 
 Here closes Henry's first campaign in the territories of the 
 popedom. We shall now see the results of so many efforts. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Disappointment in England War declared against Charles V. Wolsey 
 desires to get him deposed by the Pope A new Scheme Embassy of 
 Fox .and Gardiner Their Arrival at Orvieto Their first Interview 
 with Clement The Pope reads a Treatise by Henry Gardiner's 
 Threats and Clement's Promise The Modern Fabius Fresh Inter- 
 view and Menaces The Pope has not the Key Gardiner's Proposition 
 Difficulties and Delays of the Cardinals Gardiner's last Blows 
 Reverses of Charles V. in Italy The Pope's Terror and Concession 
 The Commission granted Wolsey demands the Engagement A Loop- 
 hole The Pope's Distress. 
 
 NEVER was disappointment more complete than that felt by 
 Henry and Wolsey after the arrival of Gambara with the 
 commission ; the king was angry, the cardinal vexed. What 
 Clement called the sacrifice of his life was in reality but a 
 sheet of paper fit only to be thrown into the fire. " This 
 commission is of no value,"-}- said Wolsey. " And even to 
 
 * Vocabit enm ad concilium, vel nihil alind quaeret, nisi ut enm omul 
 Etatu et vita privet. Burnet, ii., Records, p. xxvi. 
 f Nullius at roboris vel effeotus. State Papers, vii. p. fO.
 
 344 WAR DECLARED AGAINST CHARLES. 
 
 put it into execution," added Henry, " we must wait until 
 the imperialists have quitted Italy! The pope is putting us 
 off to the Greek calends." " His holiness," observed the 
 cardinal, " does not bind himself to pronounce the divorce ; 
 the queen will therefore appeal from our judgment." "And 
 even .if the pope had bound himself," added the king, " it 
 would be sufficient for the emperor to smile upon him, to 
 make him retract what he had promised." " It is all a cheat 
 and a mockery," concluded both king and minister. 
 
 What was to be done next? The only way to make 
 Clement ours, thought Wolsey, is to get rid of Charles ; it is 
 time his pride was brought down. Accordingly, on the 21st 
 of January 1528, France and England declared hostilities 
 against the Emperor. When Charles heard of this proceed- 
 ing he exclaimed : " I know the hand that has flung the 
 torch of war into the midst of Europe. My crime is not 
 having placed the cardinal of York on St Peter's throne." 
 
 A mere declaration of war was not enough for Wolsey ; 
 the bishop of Bayonne, ambassador from France, seeing him 
 one day somewhat excited,* whispered in his ear : " In for- 
 mer times popes have deposed emperors for smaller offences." 
 Charles's deposition would have delivered the king of France 
 from a troublesome rival ; but Du Bcllay, fearing to take the 
 initiative in so bold an enterprise, suggested the idea to the 
 cardinal. Wolsey reflected : such a thought had never be- 
 fore occurred to him. Taking the ambassador aside to a 
 window, he there swore stoutly, said Du Bellay, that he 
 should be delighted to use all his influence to get Charles 
 deposed by the pope. " No one is more likely than your- 
 self," replied the bishop, " to induce Clement to do it." " I 
 will use all my credit," rejoined Wolsey, and the two priests 
 separated. This bright idea the cardinal never forgot. 
 Charles had robbed him of the tiara ; he will retaliate by 
 depriving Charles of his crown. An eye for an eye, and a 
 tooth for a tooth. Staffileo, dean of the Rota, was then in 
 London, and, still burning with resentment against the author 
 of the Sack of Rome, he favourably received the suggestions 
 Wolsey made to him; and, finally, the envoy from John 
 * Du Bellay to Francis I. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 64.
 
 WOLSEY'S NEW PROJECT. 345 
 
 Zapolya, king-elect of Hungary, supported the project. But 
 the kings of France and England were not so easily induced 
 to put the thrones of kings at the disposal of the priests. It 
 appears, however, that the pope was sounded on the subject , 
 and if the emperor had been beaten in Italy, it is probable 
 that the bull would have been fulminated against him. . His 
 sword preserved his crown, and the plot of the two bishops 
 failed. 
 
 The king's councillors began to seek for less heroic means. 
 " We must prosecute the affair at Rome" said some. " No," 
 said others, " in England. The pope is too much afraid of 
 the emperor to pronounce the divorce in person." " If the 
 pope fears the emperor more than the king of England," 
 exclaimed the proud Tudor, " we shall find some other way 
 to set him at ease."* Thus, at the first contradiction, Henry 
 placed his hand on his sword, and threatened to sever the ties 
 which bound his kingdom to the throne of the Italian pontiff. 
 
 " I have hit it !" said Wolsey at length ; " we must com- 
 bine the two plans judge the affair in London, and at the 
 same time bind the pontiff at Rome." And then the able 
 cardinal proposed the draft of a bull, by which the pope, 
 delegating his authority to two legates, should declare that 
 the acts of that delegation should have a perpetual effect, 
 notwithstanding any contrary decrees that might subse- 
 quently emanate from his infallible authority .-{- A new mis- 
 sion was decided upon for the accomplishment of this bold 
 design. 
 
 Wolsey, annoyed by the folly of Knight and his colleagues, 
 desired men of another stamp. He therefore cast his eyes 
 on his own secretary, Stephen Gardiner, an active man, in- 
 telligent, supple, and crafty, a learned canonist^ desirous of 
 the king's favour, and, above all, a good Romanist, which nt 
 Rome was not without its advantage. Gardiner was in 
 small the living image of his master ; and hence the cardinal 
 sometimes styled him the half of himself .\ Edward Fox, the 
 
 * Burnet's Reformation, i. p. 50. 
 
 f Non obstantibus quibuscunque decretis ro vocatoriis praesentis concrs- 
 sionis nostril-. Burnet, Records, ii. p. xvii. 
 J Mei dimidium. Ibid. p. XT.
 
 346 THE ENVOYS AT ORVIETO. 
 
 chief almoner, was joined with him a moderate, influential 
 man, a particular friend of Henry's, and a zealous advocate 
 of the divorce. Fox was named first in the commission ; 
 but it was agreed that Gardiner should be the real head of 
 the embassy. " Repeat without ceasing," Wolsey told them, 
 " that his majesty cannot do otherwise than separate from 
 the queen. Attack each one on his weak side. Declare to 
 the pope that the king promises to defend him against the 
 emperor; and to the cardinals that their services will be 
 nobly rewarded.* If that does not suffice, let the energy of 
 your words be such as to excite a wholesome fear in the 
 pontiff." 
 
 Fox and Gardiner, after a gracious reception at Paris 
 (23d February) by Francis I., arrived at Orvieto on the 20th 
 of March, after many perils, and with their dress in such dis- 
 order, that no one could have taken them for ambassadors 
 of Henry VIII. "What a city!" they exclaimed, as they 
 passed through its streets ; " what ruins, what misery ! It 
 is indeed truly called Orvieto (urbs vetus] \ " The state of 
 the town gave them no^very grand idea of the state of the 
 popedom, and they imagined that with a pontiff so poorly 
 lodged, their negotiation could not be otherwise than easy. 
 " I give you my house," said Da Casale, to whom they went, 
 " my room and my own bed ; " and as they made some ob- 
 jections, he added : " It is not possible to lodge you else- 
 where ; I have even been forced to borrow what was neces- 
 sary to receive you."-j- Da Casale, pressing them to change 
 their clothes, which were still dripping (they had just crossed 
 a river on their mules), they replied, that being obliged to 
 travel post, they had not been able to bring a change of rai- 
 ment. "Alas!" said Casale, "what is to be done? there 
 are few persons in Orvieto who have more garments than 
 one; | even the shopkeepers have no cloth for sale; this 
 town is quite a prison. People say the pope is at liberty 
 here. A pretty liberty indeed ! Want, impure air, wretched 
 lodging, and a thousand other inconveniences, keep the holy 
 
 * Money to present the cardinals. Strype's Mem. i. p. 137.. 
 f Borrowing of diyers men so much as might furnish thre beds. 
 Ibid. p. 139. JIbid
 
 FIKST AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE. 347 
 
 father closer than when he was in the Castle of St Angelo. 
 Accordingly, he told me the other day, it was better to be in 
 captivity at Rome than at liberty here."* 
 
 In two days, however, they managed to procure some new 
 clothing ; and being now in a condition to show themselves, 
 Henry's agents were admitted to an after-dinner audience on 
 Monday the 22d of March (1528). 
 
 Da Casale conducted them to an old building in ruins. 
 " This is where his holiness lives," he said. They looked at 
 one another with astonishment, and crossing the rubbish 
 lying about, passed through three chambers whose ceilings 
 had fallen in, whose windows were curtainless, and in which 
 thirty persons, "riff-raf, were standing against the bare 
 walls for a garnishment."-}- This was the pope's court. 
 
 At length the ambassadors reached the pontiff's room, and 
 placed Henrys letters in his hands. " Your holiness," said 
 Gardiner, "when sending the king a "dispensation, was 
 pleased to add, that if this document were not sufficient, you 
 would willingly give a better. It is that favour the king 
 now desires." The pope with embarrassment strove to 
 soften his refusal. " I am informed," he said, " that the king 
 is led on in this affair by a secret inclination, and that the 
 lady he loves is far from being worthy of him." Gardiner 
 replied with firmness: "The king truly desires to marry 
 again after the divorce, that he may have an heir to the 
 crown ; but the woman he proposes to take is animated by 
 the noblest sentiments ; the cardinal of York and all Eng- 
 land do homage to her virtues." \ The pope appeared con- 
 vinced. " Besides," continued Gardiner, " the king has 
 written a book on the motives of his divorce." " Good ! 
 come and read it to me to-morrow," rejoined Clement. 
 
 The next day the English envoys had hardly appeared 
 before Clement took Henry's book, ran over it as he walked 
 up and down the room, and then seating himself on a long 
 bench covered with an old carpet, " not worth twenty pence." 
 says an arnalist, he read the book aloud. He counted the 
 
 " State Papers, vii. p. 63. f Strype, i. p. 139. 
 
 t The -ivdinal's judgment as to the good qualities of the gentlewoman. 
 Ibid. p. J41. .
 
 348 THE POPE THREATENED 
 
 number of arguments, made objections as if Henry were pre- 
 sent, and piled them one upon another without waiting for 
 an answer. " The marriages forbidden in Leviticus," said 
 he, in a short and quick tone of voice, " are permitted in 
 Deuteronomy; now Deuteronomy coming after Leviticus, 
 we are bound by the latter. The honour of Catherine and 
 the emperor is at stake, and the divorce would give rise to a 
 terrible war."* The pope continued speaking, and when- 
 ever the Englishmen attempted to reply, he bade them be 
 silent, and kept on reading. " It is an excellent book," said 
 he, however, in a courteous tone, when he had ended ; " I 
 shall keep it to read over again at my leisure." Gardiner 
 then presenting a draft of the commission which Henry re- 
 quired, Clement made answer : " It is too late to look at it 
 now ; leave it with me." " But we are in haste," added 
 Gardiner. " Yes, yes, I know it," said the pope. All his 
 efforts tended to protract the business. 
 
 On the 28th of March, the ambassadors were conducted 
 to the room in which the pope slept ; the cardinals Sanctorum 
 Quatuor and De Monte, as well as the councillor of the 
 Rota, Simonetta, were then with him. Chairs were ar- 
 ranged in a semicircle. " Be seated," said Clement, who 
 stood in the middle.-]- " Master Gardiner, now tell me what 
 you want." " There is no question between us. but one of 
 time. You promised to ratify the divorce, as soon as it was 
 pronounced ; and we require you to do before what you en- 
 gage to do after. What is right on one day, must be right 
 on another." Then, raising his voice, the Englishman added : 
 " If his majesty perceives that no more respect is paid to him 
 than to a common man,:}: he will have recourse to a remedy 
 which I will not name, but which will not fail in its effect." 
 
 The pope and his councillors looked at one another in 
 silence ; they had understood him. The imperious Gardi- 
 ner, remarking the effect which he had produced, then added 
 
 * Quis praestabit ne hoc divortium magni alicujus belli causam prsebeat. 
 Sanderus, p. 26. 
 
 f- In medio semicirculi. Strype, Records, i. p. 81. 
 J Promiscuse plebis. Ibid. p. 82. 
 Every man looked on other and BO stayed. Ibid.
 
 THE TEMPORIZER. 349 
 
 in an absolute tone : " We have our instructions, and are 
 determined to keep to them." " I am ready to do everything 
 compatible with my honour," exclaimed Clement, in alarm. 
 " What your honour would not permit you to grant," said 
 the proud ambassador, " the honour of the king, my master, 
 would not permit him to ask." Gardiner's language became 
 more imperative every minute. " Well, then," said Clement, 
 driven to extremity, " I will do what the king demands, and 
 if the emperor is angry, I cannot help it." The interview, 
 which had commenced with a storm, finished with a gleam 
 of sunshine. 
 
 That bright gleam soon disappeared : Clement, who 
 imagined he saw in Henry a Hannibal at war with Rome, 
 wished to play the temporizer, the Fabius Cunctalor. " Bis 
 dat qui cito dat" * said Gardiner sharply, who observed this 
 manoeuvre. " It is a question of law," replied the pope, 
 " and as I am very ignorant in these matters, I must give 
 the doctors of the canon law the necessary time to make it 
 all clear." " By his delays Fabius Maximus saved Rome," 
 rejoined Gardiner; "you will destroy it by yours." { 
 " Alas !" exclaimed the pope, " if I say the king is right, I 
 shall have to go back to prison." J "When truth is con- 
 cerned," said the ambassador, " of what consequence are the 
 opinions of men ?" Gardiner was speaking at his ease, but 
 Clement found that the castle of St Angelo was not without 
 weight in the balance. " You may be sure that I shall do 
 everything for the best," replied the modern Fabius. With 
 these words the conference terminated. 
 
 Such were the struggles of England with the popedom 
 struggles which were to end in a definitive rupture. Gar- 
 diner knew that he had a skilful adversary to deal with; 
 too cunning to allow himself to be irritated, he coolly re- 
 solved to frighten the pontiff: that was in his instructions. 
 On the Friday before Palm Sunday, he was ushered into 
 the pope's closet ; there he found Clement attended by De 
 
 * He gives twice who gives qnickly. 
 
 f In Fabio Maximo qui rem Romanam cunctaudo restituit. Strvpe, 
 p. 90. 
 Matcria novae captiritatis. Ibid. p. 86.
 
 350 GARDINER'S MENACES. 
 
 Monte, Sanctorum Quatuor, Simonetta, Staffileo, Paul, 
 auditor of the Rota, and Gambara. "It is impossible," 
 said the cardinals, " to grant a decretal commission in which 
 the pope pronounces de jure in favour of the divorce, with a 
 promise of confirmation de facto" Gardiner insisted ; but 
 no persuasion, " neither dulce nor poynante,"* could move 
 the pontiff. The envoy judged the moment had come to 
 discharge his strongest battery. " perverse race," said he 
 to the pontiff's ministers, " instead of being harmless as 
 doves, you are as full of dissimulation and malice as ser- 
 pents ; promising everything but performing nothing. { 
 England will be driven to believe that God has taken from 
 you the key of knowledge, and that the laws of the popes, 
 ambiguous to the popes themselves, are only fit to be cast 
 into the fire.J The king has hitherto restrained his people, 
 impatient of the Romish yoke ; but he will now give them 
 the rein." A long and gloomy silence followed. Then the 
 Englishman, suddenly changing his tone, softly approached 
 Clement, who had left his seat, and conjured him in a low 
 voice to consider carefully what justice required of him. 
 " Alas !" replied Clement, "I tell you again, I am ignorant 
 in these matters. According to the maxims of the canon 
 law the pope carries all laws in the tablets of his heart, but 
 unfortunately God has never given me the key that opens 
 them." As he could not escape by silence, Clement re- 
 treated under cover of a jest, and heedlessly pronounced the 
 condemnation of the popedom. If he had never received 
 the famous key, there was no reason why other pontiffs 
 should have possessed it. ' The next day he found another 
 loophole ; for when the ambassadors told him that the king 
 would carry on the matter without him, he sighed, drew 
 out his handkerchief, and said as he wiped his eyes : || 
 "Would to God that I were dead!" Clement employed 
 tears as a political engine. 
 
 * Strype, Records, p. 114. 
 
 f- Pleni omni dolo et versatione et dissimulatione. Verbis oinuia 
 pollicentur, reipsa nihil prsestant. Ibid. p. 98. 
 
 J Digna esse quae mandentur flammis pontificia jura. Ibid. 
 
 Pontifex habet omnia jura in scrinio pectoris. Ibid. p. 9f. 
 
 H Ibid. p. 100.
 
 THE GENERAL COMMISSION. 351 
 
 " We shall not get the decretal commission," (that which 
 pronounced the divorce), said Fox and Gardiner after this, 
 " and it is not really necessary. Let us demand the general 
 commission (authorizing the legates to pronounce it), and 
 exact a promise that shall supply the place of the act 
 which is denied us." Clement, who was ready to make all 
 the promises in the world, swore to ratify the sentence of 
 the legates without delay. Fox and Gardiner then pre- 
 sented to Simonetta a draft of the act required. The dean, 
 after reading it, returned it to the envoys, saying, " It is 
 very well, I think, except the end;* show it Sanctorum 
 Quatuor." The next morning they carried the draft to that 
 cardinal : " How long has it been the rule for the patient to 
 write the prescription ? I always thought it was the physi- 
 cian's business." "No one knows the disease so well as the 
 patient," replied Gardiner: "and this disease may be of such 
 a nature that the doctor cannot prescribe the remedy with- 
 out taking the patient's advice." Sanctorum Quatuor read 
 the prescription, and then returned it, saying : " It is not 
 bad, with the exception of the beginning.-^ Take the draft 
 to De Monte and the other councillors." The latter liked 
 neither beginning, middle, nor end. " We will send for you 
 this evening," said De Monte. 
 
 Three or four days having elapsed, Henry's envoys again 
 waited on the pope, who showed them the draft prepared by 
 his councillors. Gardiner remarking in it additions, re- 
 trenchments, and corrections, threw it disdainfully from him, 
 and said coldly : " Your holiness is deceiving us ; you have 
 selected these men to be the instruments of your duplicity." 
 Clement, in alarm, sent for Simonetta ; and after a warm 
 discussion, f the envoys, more discontented than ever, 
 quitted the pope at one in the morning. 
 
 The night brings wisdom. " I only desire two little 
 words more in the commission," said Gardiner next day to 
 Clement and Simonetta. The pope requested Simonetta to 
 wait upon the cardinals immediately ; the latter sent word 
 
 The matter was good saving in the latter end. Strype, p. 102. 
 t The beginning pleased him nol. Ibid. p. 103. 
 t Inoalescente disputatione. Ibid. p. 104.
 
 352 A NEW TRAGEDY, 
 
 that they were at dinner, and adjourned the business until 
 the morrow. 
 
 When Gardiner heard of this epicurean message, he 
 thought the time had come for striking a decisive blow. A 
 new tragedy began.* " We are deceived," exclaimed he 
 " you are laughing at us. This is not the way to gain the 
 favour of princes. Water mixed with wine spoils it ; -j- your 
 corrections nullify our document. These ignorant and sus- 
 picious priests have spelled over our draft as if a scorpion 
 was hidden under every word.| You made us come to 
 Italy," said he to Staffileo and Gambara, " like hawks 
 which the fowler lures by holding out to them a piece of 
 meat ; and now that we are here-, the bait has disappeared, 
 and, instead of giving us what we sought, you pretend to 
 lull us to sleep by the sweet voice of the sirens," || Then, 
 turning to Clement, the English envoy added, " Your holi- 
 ness will have to answer for this." The pope sighed and 
 wiped away his tears. " It was God's pleasure," continued 
 Gardiner, whose tone became more threatening every 
 minute, " that we should see with our own eyes the disposi- 
 tion of the people here. It is time to have done. Henry is 
 not an ordinary prince, bear in mind that you are insult- 
 ing the defender of the faith You are going to lose the 
 
 favour of the only monarch who protects you, and the 
 apostolical chair, already tottering, will fall into dust, and 
 disappear entirely amidst the applause of all Christendom." 
 
 Gardiner paused. The pope was moved. The state of 
 Italy seemed to confirm but too strongly the sinister predic- 
 tions of the envoy of Henry VIII. The imperial troops, 
 terrified and pursued by Lautrec, had abandoned Rome and 
 retired on Naples. The French general was following up 
 this wretched army of Charles V., decimated by pestilence 
 and debauchery ; Doria, at the head of his galleys, had de- 
 stroyed the Spanish fleet ; .Gaeta and Naples only were left 
 
 * Here began a new tragedy. Strype, p. 105. 
 
 ( Vinum conspurcat infusa aqua. Ibid. 
 
 J Putantes sub omni verbo latere scorpionem. Ibid. 
 
 Praetendere pugno carnem. Ibid. 
 
 || Dnleibus sirenum vocibus incaiitare. Ibid.
 
 THE COMMISSION GRANTED. 353 
 
 to the imperialists ; and Lautrec, who was besieging the 
 latter place, wrote to Henry on the 26th of August that all 
 would soon be over. The timid Clement VII. had atten- 
 tively watched all these catastrophes. Accordingly, Gar- 
 diner had hardly denounced the danger which threatened 
 the popedom, before he turned pale with affright, rose from 
 his seat, stretched out his arms in terror, as if he had 
 desired to repel some monster ready to devour him, and 
 exclaimed, "Write, write! Insert whatever words you 
 please." As he said this, he paced up and down the room, 
 raising his hands to heaven and sighing deeply, while Fox 
 and Gardiner, standing motionless, looked on in silence. A 
 tempestuous wind seemed to be stirring the depths of the 
 abyss ; the ambassadors waited until the storm was abated. 
 At last Clement recovered himself,* made a few trivial ex- 
 cuses, and dismissed Henry's ministers. It was an hour 
 past midnight. 
 
 It was neither morality, nor religion, nor even the laws 
 of the church which led Clement to refuse the divorce ; am- 
 bition and fear were his only motives. He would have 
 desired that Henry should first constrain the emperor to 
 restore him his territories. But the king of England, who 
 felt himself unable to protect the pope against Charles, re- 
 quired, however, this unhappy pontiff to provoke the 
 emperor's anger. Clement reaped the fruits of that fatal 
 system which had transformed the church of Jesus Christ 
 into a pitiful combination of policy and cunning. 
 
 On the next day, the tempest having thoroughly abated,-f- 
 Sanctorum Quatuor corrected the commission. It was 
 signed, completed by a leaden seal attached to a piece of 
 string, and then handed to Gardiner, who read it. The bull 
 was addressed to Wolsey, and " authorized him, in case In. 1 
 should acknowledge the nullity of Henry's marriage, to 
 pronounce judicially the sentence of divorce, but without 
 noise or display of judgment ;f for that purpose he might 
 
 * Compositis affectibus. Strype, p. 106. 
 + The divers tempests passed over. Ibid. 
 
 J Sine strepitu ct figura judicii sententiam divortii judicialiter pro- 
 fcrendam. Rvnier, Fcrdera, vi. pars ii. p. 05. 
 VOL. V. 16
 
 354 THE ENGAGEMENT CONCEDED. 
 
 take any English bishop for his colleague." " All that we 
 can do you can do," said the pope. " We are very doubt- 
 ful," said the importunate Gardiner after reading the bull, 
 " whether this commission, without the clauses of confirma- 
 tion and revocation, will satisfy his majesty ; but we will do 
 all in our power to get him to accept it." " Above all, do 
 not speak of our altercations," said the pope. Gardiner, 
 like a discreet diplomatist, did not scruple to note down 
 every particular in cipher in the letters whence these details 
 are procured. " Tell the king," continued the pontiff, " that 
 this commission is on my part a declaration of war against 
 the emperor, and that I now place myself under his majesty's 
 protection." The chief almoner of England departed for 
 London with the precious document. 
 
 But one storm followed close upon another. Fox had 
 not long quitted Orvieto when ^new letters arrived from 
 Wolsey, demanding the fourth of the acts previously re- 
 quested, namely, the engagement to ratify at Rome whatever 
 the commissioners might decide in England. Gardiner was 
 to set about it in season and out of season ; the verbal pro- 
 mise of the pope counted for nothing ; this document must 
 be had, whether the pope was ill, dying, or dead.* "Ego et 
 Rex meus, his majesty and I command you," said Wolsey ; 
 " this divorce is of more consequence to us than twenty 
 popedoms."-j- The English envoy renewed the demand. 
 " Since you refuse the decretal," he said, " there is the 
 greater reason why you should not refuse the engagement" 
 This application led to fresh discussion and fresh tears. 
 Clement gave way once more ; but the Italians, more crafty 
 than Gardiner, reserved a loophole in the document through 
 which the pontiff might escape. The messenger Thaddeus 
 carried it to London ; and Gardiner left Orvieto for Rome to 
 confer with Campeggio. 
 
 Clement was a man of penetrating mind, and although he 
 knew as well as any how to deliver a clever speech, he was 
 
 * In capu mortis pontificis, quod Deus ayertat. Burnet, Records, 
 p. xxviii. 
 
 f The thing which the king's highness and I more esteem than twenty 
 papalities, Ibid, p, xxv.
 
 CLEMENT'S PERPLEXITY. 355 
 
 irresolute and timid ; and accordingly the commission had 
 not long been despatched before he repented. Full of dis- 
 tress, he paced the ruined chambers of his old palace, and 
 imagined he saw hanging over his head that terrible sword 
 of Charles the Fifth, whose edge he had already felt. 
 " Wretch that I am," said he ; " cruel wolves surround me ; 
 
 they open their jaws to swallow me up.. I see none 
 
 but enemies around me. At their head is the emperor 
 
 What will he do? Alas! I have yielded that fatal 
 
 commission which the general of the Spanish observance 
 had enjoined me to refuse. Behind Charles come the 
 
 Venetians, the Florentines, the Duke of Ferrara They 
 
 have cast lots upon my vesture.* Next comes the 
 
 king of France, who promises nothing, but looks on with 
 folded arms ; or rather, what perfidy ! calls upon me at this 
 
 critical moment to deprive Charles V. of his crown And 
 
 last, but not least, Henry VIIL, the defender of the faith, 
 
 indulges in frightful menaces against me The emperor 
 
 desires to maintain the queen on the throne of England ; 
 
 the latter, to put her away Would to God that Catherine 
 
 were in her grave! But, alas! she lives...... to be the 
 
 apple of discord dividing the two greatest monarchies, and 
 
 the inevitable cause of the ruin of the popedom Wretched 
 
 man that I am ! how cruel is my perplexity, and around 
 me I can see nothing but horrible confusion." -j* 
 
 * Novo foedere inito super vestem suam miserunt sortem. Strype, 
 Records, i. p. 109. 
 
 f His holiness findeth himself in a marvellous perplexity and con- 
 fusion. Ibid. p. 108.
 
 FOX'S REPOBT TO HENKY AND ANNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Fox's Report to Henry and Anne Wolsey's Impression He demands 
 the Decretal One of the Cardinal's petty Manoeuvres He sets his 
 Conscience at Rest Gardiner fails at Rome Wolsey's new Perfidy 
 The King's Anger against the Pope Sir T. More predicts Religious 
 Liberty -Immorality of Ultramontane Socialism Erasmus invited 
 Wolsey's last Flight Energetic Efforts at Rome Clement grants all 
 Wolsey triumphs Union of Rome and England. 
 
 DURING this time Fox was making his way to England. 
 On the 27th of April he reached Paris ; on the 2d of May he 
 landed at Sandwich, and hastened to Greenwich, where he 
 arrived the next day at five in the evening, just as Wolsey 
 had left for London. Fox's arrival was an event of great im- 
 portance. " Let him go to Lady Anne's apartments," said 
 the king, " and wait for me there." Fox told Anne Boleyn 
 of his and Gardiner's exertions, and the success of their mis- 
 sion, at which she expressed her very great satisfaction. In- 
 deed, more than a year had elapsed since her return to Eng- 
 land, and she no longer resisted Henry's project. " Mistress 
 Anne always called me Master Stephen," wrote Fox to Gar- 
 diner, " her thoughts were so full of you." The king appeared 
 and Anne withdrew. 
 
 " Tell me as briefly as possible what you have done," said 
 Henry. Fox placed, in the king's hands the pope's insigni- 
 ficant letter, which he bade his almoner read ; then that from 
 Staffileo, which was put on one side ; and, lastly, Gardiner's 
 letter, which Henry took hastily and read himself. " The 
 pope has promised us," said Fox, as he terminated his re- 
 port, " to confirm the sentence of the divorce, as soon as it 
 has been pronounced by the commissioners." " Excellent !" 
 exclaimed Henry ; and then he ordered Anne to be called in. 
 " Repeat before this lady," he said to Fox, " what you have 
 just told me." The almoner did so. " The pope is convinced
 
 WOLSEY'S DISCONTENT. 857 
 
 of the justice of your cause," he said in conclusion, " and the 
 cardinal's letter has convinced him that my lady is worthy 
 of the throne of England." " Make your report to Wolsey 
 this very night," said the king. 
 
 It was ten o'clock when the chief almoner reached the 
 cardinal's palace ; he had gone to bed, but immediate orders 
 were given that Fox should be conducted to his room. Be- 
 ing a churchman, Wolsey could understand the pope's arti- 
 fices better than Henry ; accordingly, as soon as he learnt 
 that Fox had brought the commission only, he became 
 alarmed at the task imposed upon him. " What a misfor- 
 tune !" he exclaimed : " your commission is no better than 
 Gambara's However, go and rest yourself; I will ex- 
 amine these papers to-morrow." Fox withdrew in confusion. 
 " It is not bad," said Wolsey the next day, " but the whole 
 business still falls on me alone ! Never mind, I must wear 
 a contented look, or else " In the afternoon he sum- 
 moned into his closet Fox, Dr Bell, and Viscount Rochford: 
 " Master Gardiner has surpassed himself," said the crafty 
 supple cardinal ; " what a man ! what an inestimable trea- 
 sure ! what a jewel in our kingdom !"* 
 ^Hc did not mean a word he was saying. Wolsey was 
 dissatisfied with everything with the refusal of the decretal, 
 and with the drawing up of the commission, as well as of the 
 engagement (which arrived soon after in good condition, so 
 far as the outside was concerned). But the king's ill hu- 
 mour would infallibly recoil on Wolsey ; so, putting a good 
 face on a bad matter, he ruminated in secret on the means 
 of obtaining what had been refused him. " Write to Gar- 
 diner," said he to Fox, " that everything makes me desire 
 the pope's decretal the need of unburdening my conscience, 
 of being able to reply to the calumniators who will attack 
 my judgment,-}- and the thought of the accidents to which 
 the life of man is exposed. Let his holiness, then, pronounce 
 the divorce himself; we engage en our part to keep his reso- 
 
 O non sestimandum thesanrnm margaritamque regni nostri. Strype, 
 Records, i. p. 119. 
 
 t Justissime obstrucre ora calumniantium et temere dissentientium. 
 Ibid. p. 120,
 
 358 WOLSEY'S FRAUD. 
 
 lution secret. But order Master Stephen to employ every 
 kind of persuasion that his rhetoric can imagine." In case 
 the pope should positively refuse the decretal, Wolsey required 
 that at least Campeggio should share the responsibility of 
 the divorce with him. 
 
 This was not all : while reading the engagement, Wolsey 
 discovered the loophole which had escaped Gardiner, and 
 this is what he contrived : " The engagement which the 
 pope has sent us," he wrote to Gardiner, " is drawn up in 
 such terms that he can retract it at pleasure ; we must there- 
 fore find some good way to obtain another. You may do it 
 under this pretence. You will appear before his holiness 
 with a dejected air, and tell him that the courier, to whom 
 the conveyance of the said engagement w r as intrusted, fell 
 into the water with his despatches, so that the rescripts were 
 totally defaced and illegible ; that I have not dared deliver 
 it into the king's hands, and unless his holiness will grant 
 you a duplicate, some notable blame will be imputed unto 
 you for not taking better care in its transmission. And, fur- 
 ther, you will continue : I remember the expressions of the 
 former document, and to save your holiness trouble, I will 
 dictate them to your secretary. Then," added Wolsey, 
 " while the secretary is writing, you will find means to in- 
 troduce, without its being perceived, as many/a, pregnant, 
 and available words as possible, to bind the pope and enlarge 
 my powers, the politic handling of which the king's highness 
 and I commit unto your good discretion."* 
 
 Such was the expedient invented by Wolsey. The papal 
 secretary, imagining he was making a fresh copy of the orig- 
 inal document (which was, by the way, in perfect condition), 
 was at the dictation of the ambassador to draw up another 
 of a different tenor. The " politic handling " of the cardinal- 
 legate, which was not very unlike forgery, throws a disgrace- 
 ful light on the policy of the sixteenth century. 
 
 Wolsey read this letter to the chief almoner ; and then, to 
 
 set his conscience at rest, he added piously : " In an affair 
 
 V such high importance, on which depends the glory or the 
 
 ruin of the realm, my honour or my disgrace, the con- 
 
 Burnet, Records, p. xxx.
 
 HIS HYPOCRISY. 359 
 
 demnation of my soul or my everlasting merit, I will listen 
 solely to the voice of my conscience,* and I shall act in such 
 a manner as to be able to render an account to God without 
 fear." 
 
 Wolsey did more ; it seems that the boldness of his de- 
 clarations reassured him with regard to the baseness of his 
 works. Being at Greenwich on the following Sunday, he 
 said to the king in the presence of Fox, Bell, "Wolman, and 
 Tuke : " I am bound to your royal person more than any 
 subject was ever bound to his prince. I am ready to sacri- 
 fice my goods, my blood, my life for you But my obliga- 
 tions towards God are greater still. For that cause, rather 
 than act against his will, I would endure the extremes! evils.f 
 I would suffer your royal indignation, and, if necessary, de- 
 liver my body to the executioners that they might cut it in 
 pieces." What could be the spirit then impelling Wolsey ? 
 Was it blindness or impudence ? He may have been sincere 
 in the words he addressed to Henry ; at the bottom of his 
 heart he may have desired to set the pope above the king, 
 and the church of Rome above the kingdom of England ; 
 and this desire may have appeared to him a sublime virtue, 
 such as would hide a multitude of sins. What the public 
 conscience would have called treason was heroism to the 
 Romish priest. This zeal for the papacy is sometimes met 
 with in conjunction with the most flagrant immorality. If 
 Wolsey deceived the pope, it was to save popery in the realm 
 of England. Fox, Bell, Wolman, and Tuke listened to him 
 with astonishment.:}: Henry, who thought he knew his man, 
 received these holy declarations without alarm ; and the car- 
 dinal, having thus eased his conscience, proceeded boldly in 
 his iniquities. It seems, however, that the inward reproaches 
 which he silenced in public, had their revenge in secret. 
 One of his officers entering his closet shortly afterwards, 
 presented a letter addressed to Campeggio for his signature. 
 It ended thus : " I hope all things shall be done according to 
 the will of God, the desire of the king, the quiet of the king- 
 
 * Reclamante conscientia. Strype, Records, i. p. 124. 
 
 t Extrema quaeque contra conscientiam suam. Ibid. p. 126. 
 
 J To my great mervail and no less joy and comfort. Ibid.
 
 360 -WOLSEY BEGINS TO TREMBLE. 
 
 dom, and to our honour with a good conscience" The car- 
 dinal having read the letter, dashed out the four last words.* 
 Conscience has a sting from which none can escape, not even 
 a Wolsey. 
 
 However, Gardiner lost no time in Italy. When he met 
 Campeggio (to 'whom Henry VIII. had given a palace at 
 Eome, and a bishopric in England), he entreated him to go 
 to London and pronounce the divorce. This prelate, who was 
 to be empowered in 1530 with authority to crush Protestan- 
 tism in Germany, seemed bound to undertake a mission that 
 would save Romanism in Britain. But proud of his position 
 at Rome, where he acted as the pope's representative, he 
 cared not for a charge that would undoubtedly draw upon 
 him either Henry's hatred or the emperor's anger. He 
 begged to be excused. The pope spoke in a similar tone. 
 When he was informed of this, the terrible Tudor, beginning 
 to believe that Clement desired to^ntangle him, as the hun- 
 ter entangles the lion in his toils, gave vent to his anger on 
 Tuke, Fox, and Gardiner, but particularly on Wolsey. Nor 
 were reasons wanting for this explosion. The cardinal, per- 
 ceiving that his hatred against Charles had carried him too 
 far, pretended that it was without his orders that Clarencieux, 
 bribed by France, had combined with the French ambassa- 
 dor to declare war against the emperor ; and added that he 
 would have the English king-at-arms put to death as he 
 passed through Calais. This was an infallible means of 
 preventing disagreeable revelations. But the herald, who 
 had been forewarned, crossed by way of Boulogne, and, 
 without the cardinal's knowledge, obtained an interview with 
 Henry, before whom he placed the orders he had received 
 from Wolsey in three consecutive letters. The king, aston- 
 ished at his minister's impudence, exclaimed profanely: 
 " Lord Jesu, the man in whom I had most confidence told 
 me quite the contrary." He then summoned Wolsey before 
 him, and reproached him severely for his falsehoods. The 
 wretched man shook like a leaf. Henry appeared to pardon 
 him, but the season of his favour had passed away. Hence- 
 forward he kept the cardinal as one of those instruments we 
 * Burnet's Ref. vol. i. p. 41.
 
 THE KING'S ANOER AGAINST CLEMENT. 361 
 
 make use of for a time, and thdfc throw away when we have 
 no further need of them. 
 
 The king's anger against the pope far exceeded that 
 against Wolsey ; he trembled from head to foot, rose from 
 his seat, then sat down again, and vented his wrath in the 
 most violent language : " What 1" he exclaimed, " I shall 
 exhaust my political combinations, empty my treasury, make 
 
 war upon my friends, consume my forces and for whom? 
 
 for a heartless priest who, considering neither the exi- 
 gencies of my honour, nor the peace of my conscience, nor 
 the prosperity of my kingdom, nor the numerous benefits 
 which I have lavished on him, refuses me a favour, which 
 he ought, as the common father of the faithful, to grant even 
 
 to an enemy Hypocrite! You cover yourself with the 
 
 cloak of friendship, you flattef us by crafty practices,* but 
 you give us only a bastard document, and you say like 
 Pilate : It matters little to me if this king perishes, and all 
 his kingdom with him ; take him and judge him according 
 
 to your law ! I understand you you wish to entangle 
 
 us in the briers,-]- to catch us in a trap, to lure us into a pit- 
 fall But we have discovered the snare; we shall escape 
 
 from your ambuscade, and brave your power." 
 
 Such was the language then heard at the court of Eng- 
 land, says an historian.^: The monks and priests began to 
 grow alarmed, while the most enlightened minds already saw 
 in the distance the first gleams of religious liberty. One 
 day, at a time when Henry was proving himself a zealous 
 follower of the Romish doctrines, Sir Thomas More was 
 sitting in the midst of his family, when his son-in-law, 
 Roper, now become a warm papist, exclaimed: "Happy 
 kingdom of England, where no heretic dares show his face!" 
 " That is true, son Roper," said More ; " we seem to sit now 
 upon the mountains, treading the heretics under our feet like 
 ants ; but I pray God that some of us do not live to see the 
 day when we gladly would wish to be at league with them, 
 
 By crafty means and under the face and visage of entire amity. 
 Strype, i. p. 166. 
 
 + To involve and cast us so in th briers and fetters. Ibid. 
 
 * Strype. 
 
 * Q
 
 362 SIR T. MORE'S PROPHECY. 
 
 to suffer them to have thei^churches quietly to themselves, 
 so that they would be content to let us have ours peaceably 
 to ourselves." Roper angrily replied :* " By my word, sir, 
 that is very desperately spoken!" More, however, was in 
 the right ; genius is sometimes a great diviner. The Refor- 
 mation was on the point of inaugurating religious liberty, 
 and by that means placing civil liberty on an immovable 
 foundation. 
 
 Henry himself grew wiser by degrees. He began to have 
 doubts about the Roman hierarchy, and to ask himself, 
 whether a priest-king, embarrassed in all the political com- 
 plications of Europe, could be the head of the church of 
 Jesus Christ. Pious individuals in his kingdom recognised 
 in Scripture and in conscience a law superior to the law of 
 Rome, and refused to sacrifice at the command of the 
 church their moral convictions, sanctioned by the revelation 
 of God. The hierarchical system, which claims to absorb 
 man in the papacy, had oppressed the consciences of Chris- 
 tians for centuries. When the Romish Church had required 
 from such as Berengarius, John Huss, Savonarola, John 
 Wesel, and Luther, the denial of their consciences enlight- 
 ened by the word, that is to say, by the voice of God, it had 
 shown most clearly how great is the immorality of ultra 
 montane socialism. " If the Christian consents to this enor- 
 mous demand of the hierarchy," said the most enlightened 
 men ; " if he renounces his own notions of good and evil in 
 favour of the clergy ; if he reserves not his right to obey God, 
 who speaks to him in the Bible, rather than men, even if 
 their agreement were universal ; if Henry VIII., for instance, 
 should silence his conscience, which condemns his union with 
 his brother's widow, to obey the clerical voice which ap- 
 proves of it ; by that very act he renounces truth, duty, and 
 even God himself." But we must add, that if the rights of 
 conscience were beginning to be understood in England, it 
 was not about such holy matters as these that the pope and 
 Henry were contending. They were both intriguers both 
 dissatisfied, the one desirous of love, the other of power. 
 
 Be that as it may, a feeling of disgust for Rome then took 
 * My uncle said in a rage. Here's Life, p. 132.
 
 ROMANISM AND CONSCIENCE. 363 
 
 root in the king's heart, and nothing could afterwards eradi- 
 cate it. He immediately made every exertion to attract 
 Erasmus to London. Indeed, if Henry separated from the 
 pope, his old friends, the humanists, must be his auxiliaries, 
 and not the heretical doctors. But Erasmus, in a letter 
 dated 1st June, alleged the weak state of his health, the 
 robbers who infested the roads, the wars and rumours of 
 wars then afloat. " Our destiny leads us," he said ; " let us 
 yield to it."* It is a fortunate thing for England that Eras- 
 mus was not its reformer. 
 
 Wolsey noted this movement of his master's, and resolved 
 to make a strenuous effort to reconcile Clement and Henry ; 
 his own safety was at stake. He wrote to the pope, to 
 Campeggio, to Da Casale, to all Italy. He declared that if he 
 was ruined, the popedom would be ruined too, so far at least 
 as England was concerned : " I would obtain the decretal bull 
 with my own blood, if possible," -j- he added. " Assure the 
 holy father on my life that no mortal eye shall see it." 
 Finally, he ordered the chief almoner to write to Gardiner : 
 " If Campeggio does not come, you shall never return to 
 England ;"f an infallible means of stimulating the secre- 
 tary's zeal. 
 
 This was the last effort of Henry VIII. Bourbon and 
 the prince of Orange had not employed more zeal a year 
 before in scaling the walls of Rome. Wolsey's fire had in- 
 flamed his agents ; they argued, entreated, stormed, and 
 threatened. The alarmed cardinals and theologians, assem- 
 bling at the pope's call, discussed the matter, mixing 
 political interests with the affairs of the church. At last 
 they understood what Wolsey now communicated to them. 
 " Henry is the most energetic defender of the faith," they 
 said. " It is only by acceding to his demand that we can 
 preserve the kingdom of England to the popedom. The 
 army of Charles is in full flight, and that of Francis 
 
 * Fat is agimur, fatis cedendum. Erasm. Epp. p. 1032. 
 f Ut vel proprio sanguine id vellemus posse a S. D. N. impetrare 
 Burnet, Records, ii. p. 19. 
 
 J Neither should Gardiner ever return. Strype, i. p. 167. 
 Negotia ecclesiastica politicis rationibus iiiterpolantes. Sanders, p. 97
 
 364 CLEMENT GRANTS ALL THE BULLS. 
 
 triumphs." The last of these arguments decided the ques- 
 tion ; the pope suddenly felt a great sympathy for Wolsey 
 and for the English church ; the emperor was beaten, there- 
 fore he was wrong. Clement granted everything. 
 
 First, Campeggio was desired to go to London. The 
 pontiff knew that he might reckon on his intelligence and in- 
 flexible adhesion to the interests of the hierarchy ; even the 
 cardinal's gout was of use, for it might help to innumerable 
 delays. Next, on the 8th of June, the pope, then at Viterbo, 
 gave a new commission, by which he conferred on Wolsey 
 and Campeggio the power to declare null and void the 
 marriage between Henry and Catherine, with liberty for the 
 king and queen to form new matrimonial ties.* A few days 
 later he signed the famous decretal by which he himself 
 annulled the marriage between Henry and Catherine ; but 
 instead of intrusting it to Gardiner, he gave it to Campeggio, 
 with orders not to let it go out of his hands. Clement was 
 not sure of the course of events : if Charles should decidedly 
 lose his power, the bull would be published in the face of 
 Christendom; if he should recover it, the bull would be 
 burnt.-}- In fact, the flames did actually consume some time 
 afterwards this decree which Clement had wetted with his 
 tears as he put his name to it. Finally, on the 23d of July, 
 the pope signed a valid engagement, by which he declared 
 beforehand that all retractation of these acts should be null 
 and void.\ Campeggio and Gardiner departed. Charles's 
 defeat was as complete at Rome as at Naples ; the justice of 
 his cause had vanished with his army. 
 
 Nothing, therefore, was wanting to Henry's desires. He 
 had Campeggio, the commission, the decretal bull of divorce 
 signed by the pope, and the engagement giving an irrevo- 
 cable value to all these acts. Wolsey was conqueror, the 
 
 conqueror of Clement! He had often wished to mount 
 
 the restive courser of the popedom and to guide it at his 
 
 * Ad alia vota commigrandi. Herbert, p. 262. 
 
 t State Papers, vii. p. 78. Dr Lingard acknowledges the existence 
 of this bull and the order to burn it. 
 
 Si (quod absit) aliquid contra prsemissa faciamus, illud pro casso, 
 Irrito, inani et vacno omnino haberi volumus. Herbert, p. 250.
 
 JOY IN ENGLAND. 365 
 
 will, but each time the unruly steed had thrown him from 
 the saddle. Now he was firm in his seat, and held the horse 
 in hand. Thanks to Charles's reverses, he was master 
 at Rome. The popedom, whether it was pleased or not, 
 must take the road he had chosen, and before which it had 
 so long recoiled. The king's joy was unbounded, and 
 equalled only by Wolsey's. The cardinal, in the fulness of 
 his heart, wishing to show his gratitude to the officers of the 
 Roman court, made them presents of carpets, horses., and 
 vessels of gold.* All near Henry felt the effects of his good 
 humour. Anne smiled ; the court indulged in amusements ; 
 the great affair was about to be accomplished ; the New 
 Testament to be delivered to the flames. The union be- 
 tween England and the popedom appeared confirmed for 
 ever, and the victory which Rome seemed about to gain in 
 the British isles might secure her triumph in the west. Vain 
 omens! far different were the events in the womb of the 
 future. 
 
 * Nam illi, aulaea, vas aureum ant equi maxime probentur. Burcet, 
 Records, i. p. x v.
 
 BOOK XX. 
 
 THE TWO DIVORCES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Progress of the Reformation The two Divorces Entreaties to Anne 
 Boleyn The Letters in the Vatican Henry to Anne Henry's 
 Second Letter Third Fourth Wolsey's Alarm His fruitless Pro- 
 ceedings He turns The Sweating Sickness Henry's Fears New 
 Letters to Anne Anne falls sick ; her Peace Henry writes to her 
 Wolsey's Terror Campeggio does not arrive All dissemble at 
 Court. 
 
 WHILE England seemed binding herself to the court of 
 Rome, the general course of the church and of the world 
 gave stronger presage every day of the approaching emanci- 
 pation of Christendom. The respect which for so many 
 centuries had hedged in the Roman pontiff was everywhere 
 shaken ; the Reform, already firmly established in several 
 states of Germany and Switzerland, was extending in 
 France, the Low Countries, and Hungary, and beginning in 
 Sweden, Denmark, and Scotland. The South of Europe 
 appeared indeed submissive to the Romish church; but 
 Spain, at heart, cared little for the pontifical infallibility; 
 and even Italy began to inquire whether the papal dominion 
 was not an obstacle to her prosperity. England, notwith- 
 standing appearances, was also going to throw off the yoke 
 of the bishops of the Tiber, and many faithful voices might 
 already be heard demanding that the word of God should 
 be acknowledged the supreme authority in the church.
 
 IMPORTANCE OF THE STRUGGLE WITH ROME. 367 
 
 The conquest of Christian Britain by the papacy occupied 
 all the seventh century, as we have seen. The sixteenth 
 was the counterpart of the seventh. The struggle which 
 England then had to sustain, in order to free herself from 
 the power that had enslaved her during nine hundred years, 
 was full of sudden changes ; like those of the times of 
 Augustine and Oswy. This struggle indeed took place in 
 each of the countries where the church was reformed ; but 
 nowhere can it be traced in all its diverse phases so dis- 
 tinctly as in Great Britain. The positive work of the Re- 
 formation that which consisted in recovering the truth and 
 life so long lost was nearly the same everywhere ; but as 
 regards the negative work the struggle with the popedom 
 we might almost say that other nations committed to 
 England the task by which they were all to profit. An 
 unenlightened piety may perhaps look upon the relations of 
 the court of London with the court of Rome, at the period 
 of the Reformation, as void of interest to the faith ; but 
 history will not think the same. It has been too often for- 
 gotten that the main point in this contest was not the 
 divorce (which was only the occasion), but the contest itself 
 and its important consequences. The divorce of Henry 
 Tudor and Catherine of Aragon is a secondary event ; but 
 the divorce of England and the popedom is a primary event, 
 one of the great evolutions of history, a creative act (so to 
 speak) which still exercises a normal influence over the des- 
 tinies of mankind. And accordingly everything connected 
 with it is full of instruction for us. Already a great num- 
 ber of pious men had attached themselves to the authority 
 of God ; but the king, and with him that part of the nation, 
 strangers to the evangelical faith, clung to Rome, which 
 Henry had so valiantly defended. The word of God had 
 spiritually separated England from the papacy; the great 
 matter separated it materially. There is a close relationship 
 between these two divorces, which gives extreme import- 
 ance to the process between Henry and Catherine. When 
 a great revolution is to be effected in the bosom of a people 
 (we have the Reformation particularly in view), God in- 
 structs the minority by the Holy Scriptures, and the majority
 
 368 ANNE'S HESITATION. 
 
 by the dispensations of the divine government. Facts 
 undertake to push forward those whom the more spiritual 
 voice of the word leaves behind. England, profiting by this 
 great teaching of facts, 'has thought it her duty ever since 
 to avoid all contact with a power that had deceived her; 
 she has thought that popery could not have the dominion 
 over a people without infringing on its vitality, and that it 
 was only by emancipating themselves from this priestly 
 dictatorship that modern nations could advance safely in 
 the paths of liberty, order, and greatness. 
 
 For more than a year, as Henry's complaints testify, 
 Anne continued deaf to his homage. The despairing king 
 saw that he must set other springs to work, and taking 
 Lord Rochford aside, he unfolded his plans to him. The 
 ambitious father promised to do all in his power to influence 
 his daughter. " The divorce is a settled thing," he said to 
 her ; " you have no control over it. The only question is, 
 whether it shall be you or another who -shall give an heir 
 to the crown. Bear in mind that terrible revolutions 
 threaten England if the king has no son." Thus did 
 everything combine to weaken Anne's resolution. The 
 voice of her father, the interests of her country, the king's 
 love, and doubtless some secret ambition, influenced her to 
 grasp the proffered sceptre. These thoughts haunted her 
 in society, in solitude, and even in her dreams. At one 
 time she imagined herself on the throne, distributing to the 
 people her charities and the word of God ; at another, in 
 some obscure exile, leading a useless life, in tears and igno- 
 miny. When, in the sports of her imagination, the crown 
 of England appeared all glittering before her, she at first 
 rejected it; but afterwards that regal ornament seemed so 
 beautiful, and the power it conferred so enviable, that she 
 repelled it less energetically. Anne still refused, however, 
 to give the so ardently solicited assent. 
 
 Henry, vexed by her hesitation, wrote to her frequently, 
 and almost always in French. As the court of Rome 
 makes use of these letters, which are kept in the Vatican, 
 to abuse the Reformation, we think it our duty to quote 
 them. The theft committed by a cardinal has preserved
 
 UEXRY'S FIRST LETTER. 369 
 
 them for us ; and we shall see that, far from supporting the 
 calumnies that have been spread abroad, they tend, on the 
 contrary, to refute them. We are far from approving their 
 contents as a whole; but we cannot deny to the young 
 lady, to whom they are addressed the possession of noble 
 and generous sentiments. 
 
 Henry, unable to support the anguish caused by Anne's 
 refusal, wrote to her, as it is generally supposed, in May 
 1528 :* 
 
 " By revolving in my mind the contents of your last let- 
 ters, I have put myself into great agony, not knowing how 
 to interpret them, whether to my disadvantage, as I under- 
 stand some passages, or not, as I conclude from others. I 
 beseech you earnestly to let me know your real mind as to 
 the love between us two. It is needful for me to obtain this 
 answer of you, having been for a whole year wounded 
 with the dart of .love, and not yet assured whether I shall 
 succeed in finding a place in your heart and affection. This 
 uncertainty has hindered me of late from declaring you my 
 mistress, lest it should prove that you only entertain for me 
 an ordinary regard. But if you please to do the duty of a 
 true and loyal mistress, I promise you that not only the 
 name shall be given to you, but also that I will take you for 
 my mistress, casting off all others that are in competition 
 with you, out of my thoughts and affection, and serving you 
 only. I beg you to give an entire answer to this my rude 
 letter, that I may know on what and how far I may depend. 
 But if it does not please you to answer me in writing, let 
 me know some place where I may have it by word of mouth, 
 and I will go thither with all my heart. No more for fear of 
 tiring you. Written by the hand of him who would willingly 
 remain yours, " H. REX." 
 
 Such were the affectionate, and we may add (if we think 
 of the time and the man) the respectful terms employed by 
 
 Vatican Letters. Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 114. The date in the 
 text is that assigned by the editor ; we are inclined to place it somewhat 
 earlier. 
 
 Q2
 
 370 HENRY 8 SECOND LETTER. 
 
 Henry in writing to Anne Boleyn. The latter, without 
 making any promises, betrayed some little affection for the 
 king, and added to her reply an emblematical jewel, repre- 
 senting a " solitary damsel in a boat tossed by the tempest," 
 wishing thus to make the prince understand the dangers to 
 which his love exposed her. Henry was ravished, and im- 
 mediately replied : 
 
 " For a present so valuable, that nothing could be more 
 (considering the whole of it), I return you my most hearty 
 thanks, not only on account of the costly diamond, and the 
 ship in which the solitary damsel is tossed about, but chiefly 
 for the fine interpretation, and the too humble submission 
 which your goodness hath made to me. Your favour I will 
 always seek to preserve, and this is my firm intention and 
 hope, according to the matter, aut illic aut nullibi. 
 
 " The demonstrations of your affections are such, the fine 
 thoughts of your letter so cordially expressed, that they 
 oblige me for ever to honour, love, and serve you sincerely. 
 I beseech you to continue in the same firm and constant pur- 
 pose, and assuring you that, on my part, I will not only 
 make you a suitable return, but outdo you, so great is the 
 loyalty of the heart that desires to please you. I desire, 
 also, that if, at any time before this, I have in any way 
 offended you, that you would give me the same absolution 
 that you ask, assuring you, that hereafter my heart shall be 
 dedicated to you alone. I wish my person were so too. God 
 can do it, if he pleases, to whom I pray once a-day for that 
 end, hoping that at length my prayers will be heard. I wish 
 the time may be short, but I shall think it long till we see 
 one another. Written by the hand of that secretary, who in 
 heart, body, and will, is 
 
 " Your loyal and most faithful Servant, 
 
 H. T. REX."* 
 
 * Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 1 15. After the signature comes the f&llowing 
 doyice : 
 
 (V) 
 
 Nulle autre que \ A B ne cherche H.T.
 
 HENRY'S THIRD AND FOURTH 1 LETTERS. 371 
 
 Henry was a passionate lover, and history is not called 
 upon to vindicate that cruel prince ; but in the preceding 
 letter we cannot discover the language of a seducer. It is 
 impossible to imagine the king praying to God once a-day 
 for anything but a lawful union. These daily prayers seem 
 to present the matter in a different light from that which 
 Romanist writers have imagined. 
 
 Henry thought himself more advanced than he really was. 
 Anne then shrank back ; embarrassed by the position she 
 held at court, she begged for one less elevated. The king 
 submitted, although very vexed at first : 
 
 " Nevertheless that it belongeth not to a gentleman," he 
 wrote to her, " to put his mistress in the situation of a ser- 
 vant, yet, by following your wishes, I would willingly con- 
 cede it, if by that means you are less uncomfortable in the 
 place you shall choose than in that where you have been 
 placed by me. I thank you most cordially that you are 
 pleased still to bear me in your remembrance. 
 
 " H. T." 
 
 Anne, having retired in May to Hever castle, her father's 
 residence, the king wrote to her as follows : 
 
 " My Mistress and my Friend, 
 
 " My heart and I surrender ourselves into your hands, and 
 we supplicate to be commended to your good graces, and 
 that by absence your affections may not be diminished to 
 us. For that would be to augment our pain, which would 
 be a great pity, since absence gives enough, and more than 
 I ever thought could be felt. This brings to my mind a fact 
 in astronomy, which is, that the longer the days are, the 
 farther oft* is the sun, and yet the more scorching is his heat. 
 Thus is it with our love ; absence has placed distance be- 
 tween us, nevertheless fervour increases, at least on my part. 
 I hope the same from you, assuring you that in my case 
 the anguish of absence is so great that it would be in- 
 tolerable were it not for the firm hope I have of your indis-
 
 372 ANNE GIVES HER CONSENT. 
 
 soluble affection towards me. In order to remind you of it, 
 and because I cannot in person be in your presence, I send 
 you the thing which comes nearest that is possible, that is 
 to say, my picture, and the whole device, which you already 
 know of,* set in bracelets ; wishing myself in their place 
 when it pleases you. This is from the hand of 
 " Your Servant and Friend, 
 
 " H. T. REX." 
 
 Pressed by her father, her uncles, and by Henry, Anne's 
 firmness was shaken. That crown, rejected by Renee and 
 by Margaret, dazzled the young Englishwoman ; every day 
 she found some new charm in it ; and gradually familiariz- 
 ing herself with her new future, she said at last : " If the 
 king becomes free, I shall be willing to marry him." This 
 was a great fault ; but Henry was at the height of joy. 
 
 The courtiers watched with observant eyes these develop- 
 ments of the king's affection, and were already preparing the 
 homage which they proposed to lay at Anne Boleyn's feet. 
 But there was one man at court whom Henry's resolution 
 filled with sorrow ; this was Wolsey. He had been the first 
 to suggest to the king the idea of separating from Catherine; 
 but if Anne is to succeed her, there must be no divorce. He 
 had first alienated Catherine's party ; he was now going to 
 irritate that of the Boleyns; accordingly he began to fear 
 that whatever might be the issue of this affair, it would cause 
 his ruin. He took frequent walks in his park at Hampton 
 Court, accompanied by the French ambassador, the confidant 
 of his sorrows : " I would willingly lose one of my fingers," 
 he said, " if I could only have two hours' conversation with 
 the king of France." At another time, fancying all England 
 was pursuing him, he said with alarm, " The king my mas- 
 ter and all his subjects will cry murder against me ; they 
 will fall upon me more fiercely than on a Turk, and all Chris- 
 tendom will rise against me!" The next day Wolsey, to 
 gain the French ambassador, gave him a long history of 
 what he had done for France against the wishes of all Eng- 
 
 * Doubtless the out illic aut nullibi For this letter see the Pam- 
 phleteer, No. 42, p. 346.
 
 WOLSEVs GRIEF. 373 
 
 land : " I need much dexterity in my afUirs," he added, " and 
 must use a terrible alchymy"* But alchymy could not save 
 him. Rarely has so much anguish been veiled beneath such 
 grandeur. Du Bellay was moved with pity at the sight of 
 the unhappy man's sufferings. " When he gives way," he 
 wrote to Montmorency, " it lasts a day together ; he is con- 
 tinually sighing. You have never seen a man in such anguish 
 of mind."f 
 
 In truth Wolsey's reason was tottering. That fatal idea 
 of the divorce was the cause of all his woes, and to be able 
 to recall it, he would have given, not a finger only, but an 
 arm, and perhaps more. It was too late ; Henry had started 
 his car down the steep, and whoever attempted to stop it 
 would have been crushed beneath its wheels. However, the 
 cardinal tried to obtain something. Francis I. had inter- 
 cepted a letter from Charles V. in which the emperor spoke 
 of the divorce as likely to raise the English nation in revolt 
 Wolsey caused this letter to be read to the king, in the hope 
 that it would excite his serious apprehensions ; but Henry 
 only/roiened, and Du Bellay, to whom the monarch ascribed 
 the report on these troubles foreboded by Charles, received 
 " a gentle lash." J: This was the sole result of the manoeuvre. 
 
 Wolsey now resolved to broach this important subject 
 in a straightforward manner. The step might prove his ruin; 
 but if he succeeded he was &aved and the popedom with him. 
 Accordingly, one day (shortly before the sweating sickness 
 broke out, says Du Bellay, probably in June 1528) Wolsey 
 openly prayed the king to renounce his design ; his own re- 
 putation, he told him, the prosperity of England, the peace 
 of Europe, the safety of the church, all required it ; besides 
 the pope would never grant the divorce. While the cardinal 
 was speaking, Henry's face grew black ; and before he had 
 concluded the king's anger broke out. " The king used 
 terrible words," said Du Bellay. He would have given a 
 thousand Wolseys for one Anne Boleyn. " No other than 
 
 * Une terrible Alquemie. Le Grand, Preures, p. 157. 
 t 26th April, 1528. Ibid. p. 93. 
 
 * Qitelque petit coup de fouet. 24th May, 1528. Da Bellay to Mont- 
 morency. Le Graid, Preuves, p. 102.
 
 374 HE COURTS ANNE BOLEYN. 
 
 God shall take her from me " was his most decided reso- 
 lution. 
 
 "Wolsey, now no longer doubting of his disgrace, began to 
 take his measures accordingly. He commenced building in 
 several places, in order to win the affections of the common 
 people ; he took great care of his bishoprics, in order that they 
 might ensure him an easy retreat; he was affable to the 
 courtiers ; and thus covered the earth with flowers to deaden 
 his fall. Then he would sigh as if he were disgusted with 
 honours, and would celebrate the charms of solitude.* He 
 did more than this. Seeing plainly that the best way of 
 recovering the kiug's favour would be to conciliate Anne 
 Boleyn, he made her the most handsome presents,-}- and 
 assured her that all his efforts would nqw be directed to raise 
 her to the throne of England. Anne, believing these declar- 
 ations, replied, that she would help him in her turn, " As 
 long as any breath was in her body." J Even Henry had no 
 doubt that the cardinal had profited by his lesson. 
 
 Thus were all parties restless and uneasy Henry desiring 
 to marry Lady Anne, the courtiers to get rid of Wolsey, and 
 the latter to remain in power when a serious event appeared 
 to put every one in harmony with his neighbour. About 
 the middle of June, the terrible sweating sickness (sudor 
 anglicus] broke out in England. The citizens of London, 
 " thick as flies," said Du Bellay, suddenly feeling pains in 
 the head and heart, rushed from the streets or shops to their 
 chambers, began to sweat, and took to their beds. The dis- 
 ease made frightful and rapid progress, a burning heat 
 pteyed on their limbs; if they chanced to uncover them- 
 selves, the perspiration ceased, delirium came on, and in four 
 hours the victim was dead and " stiff as a wall," || says the 
 French ambassador. Every family was in mourning. Sir 
 Thomas More^ kneeling by his daughter's bedside, burst into 
 tears, and called upon God to save his beloved Margaret.^] 
 
 * 20th August 1528. Du Bellay to Montmorency Le Grand, Preuves, 
 p. 165. f Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 150. J Ibid. 
 
 Dru comme mouches. Le Grand, Preuves, p 38. 
 || Raide comme un pan de mur. Ibid. 
 ^ More's Life, p. 136.
 
 THE SWEATING SICKNESS. 375 
 
 Wolsey, who was at Hampton Court, suspecting nothing 
 amiss, arrived in London as usual to preside in the Court of 
 Chancery; but he ordered his horses to be saddled again 
 immediately and rode back. In four days, 2000 persons 
 died in London. 
 
 The court was at first safe from the contagion ; but on the 
 fourth day one of Anne Boleyn's ladies was attacked ; it was 
 as if a thunderbolt had fallen on the palace. The king re- 
 moved with all haste, and staid at a place twelve miles off, 
 for he was not prepared to die. He ordered Anne to return 
 to her father, invited the queen to join him, and took up his 
 residence at Waltham. His real conscience awoke only in 
 the presence of death. Four of his attendants and a friar, 
 Anne's confessor, as it would appear,* falling ill, the king 
 departed for Hunsdon. He had been there two days only 
 when Powis, Carew, Carton, and others of his court, were 
 carried off in two or three hours. Henry had met an enemy 
 whom he could not vanquish. He quitted the place attacked 
 by the disease ; he removed to another quarter ; and when 
 the sickness laid hold of any of his attendants in his new 
 retreat, he again left that for a new asylum. Terror froze 
 his blood ; he wandered about pursued by that terrible scythe 
 whose sweep might perhaps reach him ; he cut off all com- 
 munication, even with his servants ; shut himself up in a 
 room at the top of an isolated tower; ate all alone, and 
 would see no one but his physician ;f he prayed, fasted, con- 
 fessed, became reconciled with the queen; took the sacra- 
 ment every Sunday and feast-day ; received his Maker, $ to 
 use the words of a gentleman of his chamber ; and the queen 
 and Wolsey did the same. Nor was that all : his councillor, 
 Sir Brian Tuke, was sick in Essex ; but that mattered not ; 
 the king ordered him to come to him, even in his litter ; and 
 on the 20th of June, Henry after hearing three masses (he 
 had never done so much before in one day) said to Tuke : 
 
 * Votre pere maitre Jesonere est tombd malade. Henry to Anne. 
 Pamphleteer, No. 42, p. 347. 
 
 t With his physician in a chamber within a tower to sup apart. State 
 Papers, i. p. 296. 
 
 J Ibid. p. 290
 
 876 HENRY'S TERROR HIS LETTER TO ANNE. 
 
 " I want you to write my will.'" He was not the only one 
 who took that precaution. " There were a hundred thousand 
 made," says Du Bellay. 
 
 During this time, Anne in her retirement at Hever was 
 calm and collected; she prayed much, particularly for the 
 king and for Wolsey.* But Henry, far less submissive, was 
 very anxious. " The uneasiness my doubts about your 
 health gave me," he wrote to her, " disturbed and frightened 
 me exceedingly ; but now, since you have as yet felt nothing, 
 
 I hope it is with you as it is with us I beg you, my 
 
 entirely beloved, not to frighten yourself, or be too uneasy at 
 our absence, for wherever I am, I am yours. And yet we 
 must sometimes submit to our misfortunes, for whoever will 
 struggle against fate, is generally but so much the farther 
 from gaining his end. Wherefore, comfort yourself and 
 take courage, and make this misfortune as easy to you as 
 you can."-]- 
 
 As he received no news, Henry's uneasiness increased ; he 
 sent to Anne a messenger and a letter : " To acquit myself 
 of the duty of a true servant, I send you this letter, beseech- 
 ing you to apprize me of your welfare, whiqh I pray may 
 continue as long as I desire mine own." 
 
 Henry's fears were well founded ; the malady became more 
 severe ; in four hours eighteen persons died at the archbishop 
 of Canterbury's ; Anne Boleyn herself and her brother also 
 caught the infection. The king was exceedingly agitated ; 
 Anne alone appeared calm ; the strength of her character 
 raised her above exaggerated fears ; but her enemies ascribed 
 her calmness to other motives. " Her ambition is stronger 
 than death," they said. " The king, queen, and cardinal 
 
 tremble for their lives, but she she would die content if 
 
 she died a queen." Henry once more changed his residence. 
 All the gentlemen of his privy-chamber were attacked, with 
 one exception ; " he remained alone, keeping himself apart," 
 says Du Bellay, and confessed every day. He wrote again 
 to Anne, sending her his physician, Dr Butts : J " The most 
 
 * I thank our Lord that them that I desired and prayed for are escaped, 
 and that is the king's grace and you. Anne to Wolsey. Pamphleteer 
 No. 43, p. 150. t Ibid. N . 42, p. 347. J Ibid. No. 43, p. 120.
 
 WOLSEY'S TEKROHS. 377 
 
 displeasing news that could occur came to me suddenly at 
 night. On three accounts I must lament it. One, to hear 
 of the illness of my mistress, whom I esteem more than all 
 the world, and whose health I desire as I do my own. I 
 would willingly bear half of what you suffer to cure you. 
 The second, from the fear that I shall have to endure my 
 wearisome absence much longer, which has hitherto given 
 me all the vexation that was possible; and when gloomy 
 thoughts fill my mind, then I pray God to remove far from 
 me such troublesome and rebellious ideas. The third, be- 
 cause my physician, in whom I have most confidence, is 
 absent. Yet, from the want of him, I send you my second, 
 and hope that he will soon make you well. J shall then 
 love him more than ever. I beseech you to be guided by 
 his advice in your illness. By your doing this, I hope soon 
 to see you again, which will be to me a greater comfort than 
 all the precious jewels in the world." 
 
 The pestilence soon broke out with more violence around 
 Henry ; he fled in alarm to Hatfield, taking with him only 
 the gentlemen of his chamber ; he next quitted this place 
 for Tittenhanger, a house belonging to Wolsey, whence he 
 commanded general processions throughout the kingdom in 
 order to avert this scourge of God.* At the same time he 
 wrote to Wolsey : " As soon as any one falls ill in the place 
 where you are, fly to another ; and go thus from place to 
 place." The poor cardinal was still more alarmed than 
 Henry. As soon as he felt the slightest perspiration, he 
 fancied himself a dead man. " I entreat your highness," he 
 wrote trembling to the king on the 5th of July, " to show 
 yourself full of pity for my soul ; these are perhaps the last 
 
 words I shall address to you The whole world will see 
 
 by my last testament that you have not bestowed your 
 favour upon an ungrateful man." The king, perceiving that 
 "VVoIscy's mind was affected, bade him " put apart fear and 
 fantasies," { and wear a cheerful humour in the midst of 
 death. 
 
 . At last the sickness began to diminish, and immediately 
 the desire to see Anne revived in Henry's bosom. On the 
 
 State Papers, i. p. 308. f Ibid.?. 314. 
 
 VOL. V. 17
 
 378 THE LEGATE'S DELAY HISSIMLLATION AT COURT. 
 
 18th of August she re -appeared at court, and all the king'? 
 thoughts were now bent on the divorce. 
 
 But this business seemed to proceed in inverse ratio to his 
 desires. There was no news of Campeggio ; was he lost in 
 the Alps or at sea? Did his gout detain him in some vil- 
 lage, or was the announcement of his departure only a feint? 
 Anne Boleyn herself was uneasy, for she attached great im- 
 portance to Campeggio's coming. If the church annulled 
 the king's first marriage, Anne, seeing the principal obstacle 
 removed, thought she might accept Henry's hand. She 
 therefore wrote to Wolsey : " I long to hear from you news 
 of the legate, for I do hope (an' they come from you) they 
 shall be very good." The king added in a postscript : " The 
 not hearing of the legate's arrival in France causelh us 
 somewhat to muse. Notwithstanding we trust by your 
 diligence and vigilancy (with the assistance of Almighty 
 God) shortly to be eased out of that trouble."* 
 
 But still there was no news. While waiting for the long- 
 desired ambassador, every one at the English court played 
 his part as well as he could. Anne, whether from conscience, 
 prudence, or modesty, refused the honours which the king 
 would have showered upon her, and never approached 
 Catherine but with marks of profound respect. "Wolsey had 
 the look of desiring the divorce, while in reality he dreaded 
 it, as fated to cause his ruin and that of the popedom. 
 Henry strove to conceal the motives which impelled him to 
 separate from the queen ; to the bishops, he spoke of his 
 conscience, to the nobility of an heir, and to all of the sad 
 obligation which compelled him to put away so justly be- 
 loved a princess. In the meanwhile, he seemed to live on 
 the best terms with her, from what Du Bellay says.-j- But 
 Catherine was the one who best dissembled her sentiments; 
 she lived with the king as during their happiest days, treated 
 Anne with every kindness, adopted an elegant costume, 
 encouraged music and dancing in her apartments, often ap- 
 peared in public, and seemed desirous ?f captivating by her 
 
 * Pamphleteer, No. 48, p. 149. 
 
 t 16th October 1.528. Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuvea, 
 p. 170.
 
 COVERDALE AND INSPIRATION. 379 
 
 gracious smiles the good- will of England. This was a 
 mournful comedy, destined to end in tragedy full of tears 
 and agony. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 Corerdale and Inspiration He undertakes to translate the Scriptures 
 His Joy and Spiritual Songs Tyball and the Laymen Coverdalo 
 preaches at Bumpstead Revival at Colchester Incomplete Societies 
 and the New Testament Persecution Monmouth arrested and 
 released. 
 
 
 
 WHILE these scenes were acting in the royal palaces, far dif- 
 ferent discussions were going on among the people. After 
 having dwelt for some time on the agitations of the court, 
 we gladly return to the lowly disciples of the divine word. 
 The Reformation of England (and this is its characteristic) 
 brings before us by turns the king upon his throne, and the 
 laborious artisan in his humble cottage ; and between these 
 two extremes we meet with the doctor in his college, and the 
 priest in his pulpit. 
 
 Among the young men trained at Cambridge under 
 Barnes's instruction, and who had aided him at the time of 
 his trial, was Miles Coverdale, afterwards bishop of Exeter, 
 a man distinguished by his zeal for the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ. Some time after the prior's fall, on Easter Eve, 
 1527, Coverdale and Cromwell met at the house of Sir 
 Thomas More, when the former exhorted the Cambridge 
 student to apply himself to the study of sacred learning.* 
 The lapse of his unhappy master had alarmed Coverdale, 
 and he felt the necessity of withdrawing from that outward 
 activity which had proved so fatal to Barnes. He therefore 
 turned to the Scriptures, read them again and again, and 
 perceived, like Tyndale, that the reformation of the church 
 must be effected by the word of God. The inspiration of 
 
 * Coverdale's Remain* (Parker Society), p. 490. The au- 
 thority for this statement is a letter from Coverdale to Crom- 
 well, which the editor of the ''Remains" assigns to the year 
 1527. I am inclined to think it was written in 1528; but any 
 way there is a difficulty with the date.
 
 380 MILES COVKRDALE. 
 
 that word, the only foundation of its sovereign authority, 
 had struck Coverdale. " Wherever the Scripture is known 
 it reformeth all things. And why? Because it is given by 
 the inspiration of God."* This fundamental principle of the 
 Reformation in England must, in every age, be that of the 
 church. 
 
 Coverdale found happiness in his studies : " Now," he said, 
 " I begin to taste of Holy Scriptures ! Now, honour be to 
 God ! I am set to the most sweet smell of holy letters."-{- 
 lie did not stop there, but thought it his duty to attempt in 
 England the work which Tyndale was prosecuting in Ger- 
 many. The Bible was so important in the eyes of these 
 Christians, that two translations were undertaken simul- 
 taneously. " Why should other nations," said Coverdale, 
 " be more plenteously provided for with the Scriptures in 
 their mother-tongue than we?"| " Beware of translating 
 the Bible !" exclaimed the partisans of the schoolmen ; " your 
 labour will only make divisions in the faith and in the peo- 
 ple of God." " God has now given his church," replied 
 Coverdale, " the gifts of translating and of printing; we 
 must improve them." And if any friends spoke of Tyndale's 
 translation, he answered : " Do not you know that when 
 many are starting together, every one doth his best to be 
 nighest the mark?"|| " But Scripture ought to exist in 
 Latin only," objected the priests. " No," replied Coverdale 
 again, " the Holy Ghost is as much the author of it in the 
 
 Hebrew, Greek, French, Dutch, and English, as in Latin 
 
 The word of God is of like authority, in what language so- 
 ever the Holy Ghost speaketh it." ^[ This does not mean 
 that translations of Holy Scripture are inspired, but that the 
 word of God, faithfully translated, always possesses a divino 
 authority. 
 
 Coverdale determined therefore to translate the Bible, and, 
 to procure the necessary books, he wrote to Cromwell, who, 
 during his travels, had made a collection of these precious 
 writings. " Nothing in the world I desire but books," he 
 wrote ; " like Jacob, you have drunk of the dew of heaven 
 
 * Coverdale's Remains, p. 10 t Ibid. p. 490. 
 
 $ Ibid. p. 12 Ibid. || Ibid. p. 14. ff Ibid. p. 26.
 
 DESIRES TO TRANSLATE THE BIBLE. 381 
 
 I ask to drink of your waters."* Cromwell did not refuse 
 Coverdale his treasures. " Since the Holy Ghost moves you 
 to bear the cost of this work," exclaimed the latter, " God 
 gives me boldness to labour in the same."f He commenced 
 without delay, saying : " Whosoever believeth not the Scrip- 
 ture, believeth not Christ; and whoso refuseth it, refuseth 
 God also."J Such were the foundations of the reformed 
 church in England. 
 
 Coverdale did not undertake to translate the Scriptures as 
 a mere literary task: the Spirit which had inspired him 
 spoke to his heart : and tasting their life-giving promises, he 
 expressed his happiness in pious songs : 
 
 Be glad now, all ye christen men, 
 
 And let us rejoyce unfaynedly. 
 The kindnesse cannot be written with penne, 
 
 That we have receaved of God's mercy ; 
 Whose love towarde us hath never ende : 
 He hath done for us as a frende ; 
 
 Now let us thanke him hartely. 
 
 These lovynge wordes he spake to me : 
 
 I wyll delyver thy soule from payne ; 
 I am desposed to do for thee, 
 
 And to myne owne selfe thee to retayne. 
 Thou shalt be with me, for thou art myne ; 
 And I with thee, for I am thyne ; 
 
 Such is my love, I can not layne. 
 
 They wyll shed out my precyous bloude, 
 
 And take away my lyfe also ; 
 Which 1 wyll suffre all for thy good : 
 
 Beleve this sure, where ever thou go. 
 For I wijl yet ryse up agayne ; 
 Thy synnes I beare, though it be payne, 
 
 To make thee safe and free from wo. 
 
 Coverdale did not remain long in the solitude he desirccL 
 The study of the Bible, which had attracted him to it, soon 
 drew him out of it. A revival was going on in Essex ; John 
 Tyball, an inhabitant of Bumpstead, having learnt to find in 
 Jesus Christ the true bread from heaven, did not stop there. 
 
 * De tuo ipso torrente rnaxime potare exopto. Coverdale's Remains, 
 p. 491. f Ibid. p. 10. + Ibid. p. 19.
 
 382 TYBALL AT BUMPSTEAD. 
 
 One day as he was reading the first epistle to the Corinthians, 
 these words : " eat of this bread" and " drink of this cup" 
 repeated four times within a few verses, convinced him that 
 there was no transubstantiation. " A priest has no power 
 to create the body of the Lord," said he : " Christ truly i.r 
 present in the Eucharist, but he is there only fir Mm that 
 believcth, and by a spiritual presence and action only." Ty- 
 ball, disgusted with the Romish clergy and worship, and 
 convinced that Christians are called to a universal priest- 
 hood, soon thought that men could do without a special 
 ministry, and without denying the offices mentioned in Scrip- 
 ture, as some Christians have done since, he attached no 
 importance to them. " Priesthood is not necessary,"* he 
 said : " every layman may administer the sacraments as well 
 as a priest." The minister of Bumpstead, one Richard 
 Foxe, and next a greyfriar of Colchester named Meadow, 
 were successively converted by Tyball's energetic preaching. 
 
 Coverdale, who was living not far from these parts, having 
 heard speak of this religious revival, came to Bumpstead, 
 and went into the pulpit in the spring of 1528, to pro- 
 claim the treasures contained in Scripture. Among his 
 hearers was an Augustine monk, named Topley, who was 
 supplying Foxe's place during his absence. This monk, 
 while staying at the parsonage, had found a copy of Wick- 
 liffe's Wicket, which he read eagerly. His conscience was 
 wounded by it, and all seemed to totter about him.f He 
 had gone to church full of doubt, and after divine service he 
 waited upon the preacher, exclaiming : " my sins, my sins!" 
 " Confess yourself to God," said Coverdale, " and not to a 
 priest. God accepteth the confession which cometh from the 
 heart, and blotteth out all your sins.":}: The monk believed 
 in the forgiveness of God, and became a zealous evangelist 
 for the surrounding country. 
 
 The divine word had hardly lighted one torch, before that 
 kindled another. At Colchester, in the same county, a 
 worthy man named Pykas, had received a copy of the Epistles 
 
 * Strype, Records, i. p. 51, 
 
 + I felt in my conscience a great wavering. Anderson's Annals of thj 
 Bible, vol. i. p. 185. J Coverdale's Remains, p. 481.
 
 EMMTUALirY OF PYKAS. 383 
 
 of Saint Paul from his mother, with this advice " My son, 
 live according to these writings, and not according To the 
 teaching of the clergy." Some time after, Pykas having 
 bought -a New Testament, and "read it thoroughly many 
 times,"* a total change took place in him. " We must be 
 baptized by the Holy Ghost," he said, and these words passed 
 like a breath of life over his simple-minded hearers. One 
 day, Pykas having learnt that Bilney, the first of the Cam- 
 bridge doctors who had known the power of God's word, 
 was preaching at Ipswich, he proceeded thither, for he never 
 refused to listen to a priest, when that priest proclaimed the 
 truth. " 0, what a sermon! how full of the Holy Ghost!" 
 exclaimed Pykas. 
 
 From that period meetings of the brothers in Christ (for 
 thus they were called) increased in number. They read the 
 New Testament, and each imparted to the others what he 
 had received for the instruction of all. One day when the 
 twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew had been read, Pykas, 
 who was sometimes wrong in the spiritual interpretation of 
 Scripture, remarked : " When the Lord declares that not one 
 stone of the temple shall l>e left upon another, he speaks of 
 those haughty priests who persecute those whom they call 
 heretics, and who pretend to be the temple of God. God will 
 destroy them all." After protesting against the priest, he 
 protested against the host : " The real body of Jesus Christ 
 is in the Word," he said ; " God' is in the Word, the Word 
 is in God.f God and the Word cannot be separated. Christ 
 is the living Word that nourishes the soul." These humble 
 preachers increased. Even women knew the Epistles and 
 Gospels by heart ; Marion Matthew, Dorothy Long, Cathe- 
 rine Swain, Alice Gardiner, and above all, Gyrling's wife, 
 who had been in service with a priest lately burnt for heresy, 
 took part in these gospel meetings. And it was not in cot- 
 tages only that the glad tidings were then proclaimed ; Bower 
 Hall, the residence of the squires of Bumpstead, was open 
 to Foxe, Topley, and Tyball, who often read the Holy Scrip- 
 tures in the great hall of the mansion, in the presence of the 
 
 Strype.vol. i. ch. i. p. 121. t Ibid. p. 130.
 
 384 TWO FORMS OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 master and all their household : a humble Eeformation more 
 real than that effected by Henry VIII. 
 
 There was, however, some diversity of opinion among 
 these brethren. " All who have begun to believe," said 
 Tyball, Pykas, and others, " ought to meet together to heai 
 
 the word and increase in faith. We pray in common 
 
 and that constitutes a church." Coverdale, Bilney, and La- 
 timer (villingly recognised these incomplete societies, in which 
 the members met simply as disciples ; they believed them 
 necessary at a period when the church was forming. These 
 societies (in the reformers' views) proved that organization 
 has not the priority in the Christian church, as Rome main- 
 tains, and that this priority belongs to the faith and the life. 
 But this imperfect form they also regarded as provisional. 
 To prevent numerous dangers, it was necessary that this 
 society should be succeeded by another, the church of the 
 New Testament, with its elders or bishops, and deacons. 
 The word, they thought, rendered a ministry of the word 
 necessary; and for its proper exercise not only piety was 
 required, but a knowledge of the sacred languages, the gift 
 of eloquence, its exercise and perfection. However, there 
 was no division among these Christians upon secondary 
 matters. 
 
 For some time the bishop of London watched this move- 
 ment with uneasiness. He caused Hacker to be arrested, 
 who, for six years past, had gone from house to house read- 
 ing the Bible in London and Essex ; examined and threatened 
 him, inquired carefully after the names of those who had 
 shown him hospitality; and the poor man in alarm had 
 given up about forty of his brethren. Sebastian Harris, 
 priest of Kensington, Forman, rector of All Hallows, John 
 and William Pykas, and many others, were summoned be- 
 fore the bishop. They were taken to prison ; they were led 
 before the judges ; they were put in the stocks ; they were 
 tormented in a thousand ways. Their minds became con- 
 fused ; their thoughts wandered ; and many made the con- 
 fessions required by their persecutors. 
 
 The adversaries of the gospel, proud of this success, now 
 desired a more glorious victory. If they could not reach
 
 MONMOUTH ARRESTED. 385 
 
 Tyndale, had they not in London the patron of his work, 
 Monmouth, the most influential of the merchants, and a fol- 
 lower of the true faith? The clergy had made religion their 
 business, and the Reformation restored it to the people. 
 Nothing offended the priests so much, as that laymen should 
 claim the right to believe without their intervention, and 
 even to propagate the faith. Sir Thomas More, one of the 
 most amiable men of the sixteenth century, participated in 
 their hatred. He wrote to Cochlaeus : " Germany now daily 
 bringeth forth monsters more deadly than what Africa was 
 wont to do ;* but, alas ! she is not alone. Numbers of Eng- 
 lishmen, who would not a few years ago even hear Luther's 
 name mentioned, are now publishing his praises 1 England 
 is now like the sea, which swells and heaves before a great 
 storm, without any wind stirring it."-j- More felt particularly 
 irritated, because the boldness of the gospellers had succeeded 
 to the timidity of the Lollards. " The heretics," he said, 
 " have put off hypocrisy, and put on impudence." He there- 
 fore resolved to set his hand to the work. 
 
 On the 14th of May 1529, Monmouth was in his shop, 
 when an usher came and summoned him to appear before 
 Sir J. Dauncies, one of the privy council. The pious mer- 
 chant obeyed, striving to persuade himself that he was wanted 
 on some matter of business ; but in this he was deceived, as 
 he soon found out. " What letters and books have you 
 lately received from abroad ?"J asked, with some severity, 
 Sir Thomas More, who, with Sir William Kingston, was Sir 
 John's colleague. " None," replied Monmouth. " What 
 aid have you given to any persons living on the continent?" 
 " None, for these last three years. William Tyndale 
 abode with me six months," he continued, " and his life was 
 what a good priest's ought to be. I gave him ten pounds 
 at the period of his departure, but nothing since. Besides, 
 he is not the only one I have helped ; the bishop of London's 
 chaplain, for instance, has received of me more than 50." 
 " What books have you in your possession?" The mer- 
 chant named the New Testament and some other works. 
 
 Mora's Life, p. 82. f Ibid. p. 1 17. 
 
 Strype, Records, p. 363. 
 
 17* .
 
 386 HE IS INTERROGATED BY MORE. 
 
 " All these books have lain more than two years on my 
 table, and I never heard that either priests, friars, or laymen 
 learnt any great errors from them."* More tossed his head. 
 " It is a hard matter," he used to say, " to put a dry stick 
 in the fire without its burning, or to nourish a snake in our 
 bosom and not be stung by it.f That is enough," he con- 
 tinued, " we shall go and search your house." Not a paper 
 escaped their curiosity ; but they found nothing to compro- 
 mise Monmouth; he was however sent to the Tower. 
 
 After some interval the merchant was again brought be- 
 fore his judges. " You are accused," said More, " of having 
 bought Martin Luther's tracts ; of maintaining those who 
 are translating the Scriptures into English ; of subscribing 
 to get the New Testament printed in English, with or without 
 glosses ; of having imported it into the kingdom ; and, lastly, 
 of having said that faith alone is sufficient to save a man." J 
 
 There was matter enough to burn several men. Mon- 
 mouth, feeling convinced that Wolsey alone had power to 
 deliver him, resolved to apply to him. " What will become 
 of my poor workmen in London and in the country during 
 my imprisonment?" he wrote to the cardinal. "They must 
 
 have their money every week; who will give it them? 
 
 Besides, I make considerable sales in foreign countries, which 
 bring laige returns to his majesty's customs. If I remain 
 in prison, this commerce is stopped, and of course all the pro- 
 ceeds for the exchequer." Wolsey, who was as much a 
 statesman as a churchman, began to melt ; on the eve of a 
 struggle with the pope and the emperor, he feared, besides, 
 to make the people discontented. Monmouth was released 
 from prison. As alderman, and then as sheriff of London, 
 he was faithful until death, and ordered in his last will that 
 thirty sermons should be preached by the most evangelical 
 ministers in England, " to make known the holy word of 
 Jesus Christ."" That is better," he thought, " than found- 
 ing masses." The Reformation showed, in the sixteenth 
 century, that great activity in commerce might be allied to 
 great piety. 
 
 * Strype, Records, p. 365. f More's Life, p. 116. 
 
 t Strype's Mem. i. p. 400. Strype. Records, i. p, 367.
 
 POLITICAL CHANGES. 387 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Political Changes Fresh Instructions from the Pope to Campeggio His 
 Delays He unbosoms himself to Francis A Prediction Arrival of 
 Campeggio Wolsey's Uneasiness Henry's Satisfaction The Car- 
 dinal's Project Campeggio's Reception First Interview with the 
 Queen and with the King Useless Efforts to make Campeggio part 
 with the Decretal The Nuncio's Conscience Public Opinion Meas- 
 ures taken by the King His Speech to the Lords and Aldermen 
 Festivities Wolsey seeks French Support Contrariety. 
 
 WHILE these persecutions were agitating the fields and the 
 capital of England, all had changed in the ecclesiastical 
 world, because all had changed in the political. The pope, 
 pressed by Henry VIII. and intimidated by the armies of 
 Francis I., had granted the decretal and despatched Cam- 
 peggio. But, on a sudden, there was a new evolution ; a 
 change of events brought a change of counsels. Doria had 
 gone over to the emperor ; his fleet had restored abundance 
 to Naples ; the army of Francis I., ravaged by famine and 
 pestilence, had capitulated ; and Charles V., triumphant in 
 Italy, had said proudly to the pope : " We are determined 
 to defend the queen of England against King Henry's in- 
 justice."* 
 
 Charles having recovered his superiority, the affrighted 
 pope opened his eyes to the justice of Catherine's cause. 
 " Send four messengers after Campeggio," said he to his 
 officers ; " and let each take a different road ; bid them travel 
 with all speed and deliver our despatches to him."-{- They 
 overtook the legate, who opened the pope's letters. " In the 
 first place," said Clement VII. to him, " protract your journey. 
 In the second place, when you reach England, use every 
 endeavour to reconcile the king and queen. In the third 
 
 * Cum Caesar materterae suae causam contra injurias Henrici pro- 
 pngnaverit. Sanders, p. 28. 
 
 t Quatuor nuncios celerrimo cursu diversis itineribus ad Campegium 
 misit. Ibid. t Herbert, p. 253.
 
 388 CAMPEGGIO'S DELAYS. 
 
 place, if you do not succeed, persuade the queen to take the 
 veil. And in the last place, if she refuses, do not pronounce 
 any sentence favourable to the divorce without a new and 
 express order from me. This is the essential : Summum et 
 maximum mandatum" The ambassador of the sovereign 
 pontiff had a mission to do nothing. This instruction is 
 sometimes as effective as any. 
 
 Campeggio, the youngest of the cardinals, was the most 
 intelligent and the slowest ; and this slowness caused his 
 selection by the pope. He understood his master. If 
 "Wolsey was Henry's spur to urge on Campeggio, the latter 
 was Clement's bridle to check Wolsey.* One of the judges 
 of the divorce was about to pull forwards, the other back- 
 wards ; thus the business stood a chance of not advancing 
 at all, which was just what the pope required. 
 
 The legate, very eager to relax his speed, spent three 
 months on his journey from Italy to England. He should 
 have embarked for France on the 23d of July ; but the end 
 of August was approaching, and no one knew in that coun- 
 try what had become of him.-J- At length they learnt that 
 he had reached Lyons on the 22d of August. The English 
 ambassador in France sent him horses, carriages, plate, and 
 money, in order to hasten his progress ; the legate complained 
 of the gout, and Gardiner found the greatest difficulty in 
 getting him to move. Henry wrote every day to Anne 
 Boleyn, complaining of the slow progress of the nuncio. " He 
 arrived in Paris last Sunday or Monday," he says at the 
 beginning of September ; " Monday next we shall hear of his 
 arrival in Calais, and then I shall obtain what I have so 
 longed for, to God's pleasure and both our comforts."! 
 
 At the same time this impatient prince sent message after 
 message to accelerate the legate's rate of travelling. 
 
 Anne began to desire a future which surpassed all that her 
 youthful imagination had conceived, and her agitated heart 
 expanded to the breath of hope. She wrote to Wolsey : 
 
 '" This shall be to give unto your grace, as I am most 
 
 * Fuller, book v. p. 172. f State Papers, vii. p. 91, 92. 
 
 J Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 117.
 
 ANNE'S LETTER TO WOLSEY. 389 
 
 bound, my humble thanks for the great pain and travail that 
 your grace doth take in studying, by your wisdom and great 
 diligence, how to bring to pass honourably the greatest 
 wealth [well-being] that is possible to come to any creature 
 living; and in especial remembering how wretdied and un- 
 worthy I am in comparison to his highness Now, good 
 
 my lord, your discretion may consider as yet how little it is 
 in my power to recompense you but alonely [only] with my 
 good will ; the which I assure you, look what thing in this 
 world I can imagine to do you pleasure in, you shall find me 
 the gladdest woman in the world to do it."* 
 
 But the impatience of the king of England and of Anno 
 seemed as if it would never be satisfied. Campeggio, on his 
 way through Paris, told Francis I. that the divorce would 
 never take place, and that he should soon go to Spain to see 
 Charles V This was significative. "The king of Eng- 
 land ought to know," said the indignant Francis tothe duke 
 of Suffolk, " that Campeggio is imperialist at heart, and that 
 his mission in England will be a mere mockery." -j- 
 
 In truth, the Spanish and Roman factions tried every ma- 
 noeuvre to prevent a union they detested. Anne Boleyn, 
 queen of England, signified not only Catherine humbled, but 
 Charles offended ; the clerical party weakened, perhaps de- 
 stroyed, and the evangelical party put in its place. The 
 Romish faction found accomplices even in Anne's own family. 
 Her brother George's wife, a proud and passionate woman, 
 and a rigid Roman-catholic, had sworn an implacable hatred 
 against her young sister. By this means wounds might.be 
 inflicted, even in the domestic sanctuary, which would not 
 be the less deep because they were the work of her own 
 kindred. One day we are told that Anne found in her cham- 
 ber a book of pretended prophecies, in which was a picture 
 representing a king, a queen shedding tears, and at their feet 
 a young lady headless. Anne turned away her eyes with 
 
 * Pamphleteer, p. 151. 
 
 t The cardinal intended not that your Grace's matter should take 
 effect, but only to use dissimulation with your Grace, for he is eutirelj 
 imperial. Suffolk to Henry, State Papers vii. p. 183.
 
 390 A CKUEJL PKOPHECY. 
 
 disgust. She desired, however, to know what this emblem 
 signified, and officious friends brought to her one of those 
 pretended wise men, so numerous at all times, who abuse the 
 credulity of the ignorant by professing to interpret such mys- 
 teries. " This prophetic picture," he said, " represents the 
 history of the king and his wife." Anne was not credulous, 
 but she understood what her enemies meant to insinuate, 
 and dismissed the mock interpreter without betraying any 
 signs of fear ; then turning to her favourite attendant, Anne 
 Saville, " Come hither, Nan," said she, " look at this book 
 of prophecies ; this is the king, this is the queen wringing 
 her hands and mourning, and this (putting her finger on the 
 bleeding body) is myself, with my head cut off." The young 
 lady answered with a shudder : " If I thought it were true, 
 I would not myself have him were he an emperor." " Tut, 
 Nan," replied Anne Boleyn with a sweet smile, " I think 
 the book a bauble, and am resolved to have him, that my 
 issue ma^y be royal, whatever may become of me." * This 
 story is based on good authority, and there were so many 
 predictions of this kind afloat that it ia very possible one of 
 them might come true; people afterwards recollected only 
 the prophecies confirmed by the events. But, be that as it 
 may, this young lady, so severely chastised in after-days, 
 found in her God an abundant consolation. 
 
 At length Campeggio embarked at Calais on the 29th or 
 September, and unfortunately for him he had an excellent 
 passage across the Channel. A storm to drive him back to 
 the French coast would have suited him admirably. But on 
 the 1st of October he was at Canterbury, whence he an- 
 nounced his arrival to the king. At this news, Henry for- 
 got all the delays which had so irritated him. " His majesty 
 can never be sufficiently grateful to your holiness for so 
 great a favour," wrote Wolsey to the pope ; " but he will 
 employ his riches, his kingdom, his life even, and deserve 
 the name of Restorer of the Church as justly as he has gained 
 that of Defender of the Faith." This zeal alarmed Cam- 
 peggio, for the pope wrote to him that any proceeding which 
 might irritate Charles would inevitably cause the ruin of the 
 * Wyatt, p. 430
 
 CAMPEGGIO ENTERS LONDON. 391 
 
 church.* The nuncio became more dilatory than ever, and 
 although he reached Canterbury on the 1st of October, he 
 did not arrive at Dartford until the 5th, thus taking four 
 days for a journey of about thirty miles.f 
 
 Meanwhile preparations were making to receive him in 
 London. Wolsey, feeling contempt for the poverty of the 
 Roman cardinals, and very uneasy about the equipage with 
 which his colleague was likely to make his entrance into the 
 capital, sent a number of showy chests, rich carpets, litters 
 hung with drapery, and harnessed mules. On the other 
 hand Campeggio, whose secret mission was to keep in the' 
 back-ground, and above allato do nothing, feared these ban- 
 ners, and trappings, and all the parade of a triumphal entry. 
 Alleging therefore an attack of gout in order to escape from 
 the pomps his colleague had prepared for him, he quietly took 
 a boat, and thus reached the palace of the bishop of Bath, 
 where he was to lodge. 
 
 While the nuncio was thus proceeding unnoticed up the 
 Thames, the equipages sent by Wolsey entered London 
 through the midst of a gaping crowd, who looked on them 
 with curiosity as if they had come from the banks of the 
 Tiber. Some of the mules however took fright and ran 
 away, the coffers fell off and burst open, when there was a 
 general rush to see their contents ; but to the surprise of all 
 they were empty. This was an excellent jest for the citizens 
 of London. " Fine outside, empty inside ; a just emblem 
 of the popedom, its embassy, and foolish pomps," they said ; 
 " a sham legate, a procession of masks, and the whole a 
 farce ! " 
 
 Campeggio was come at last, and now what he dreaded 
 most was an audience. " I cannot move," he said, " or en- 
 dure the motion of a litter." J Never had an attack of gout 
 been more seasonable. Wolsey, who paid him frequent 
 visits, soon found him to be his equal in cunning. To no 
 
 * Sanga to Campeggio, from Viterbo, 27th September, llankc 
 Deutsche Gesch. iii. p. 135. 
 
 f- State Papers, vii. p. 94, 95. 
 
 J Despatch from the bishop of Bayonne, 16th October 1529. Le Grand, 
 Pre uves, p. 169.
 
 392 ANNE'S INDECISION TERMINATED. 
 
 purpose did he treat him with every mark of respect, shak- 
 ing his hand and making much of him ; * it was labour lost, 
 the Roman nuncio would say nothing, and Wolsey began to 
 despair. The king, on the contrary, was full of hope, and 
 fancied he already had the act of divorce in his portfolio, be- 
 cause he had the nuncio in his kingdom. 
 
 The greatest effect of the nuncio's arrival was the putting 
 an end to Anne Boleyn's indecision. She had several re- 
 lapses : the trials which she foresaw, and the grief Catherine 
 must necessarily feel, had agitated her imagination and dis- 
 turbed her mind. But when she saw the church and her 
 own enemies prepared to pronounce the king's divorce, her 
 doubts were removed, and she regarded as legitimate the 
 position that was offered her. The king, who suffered from 
 her scruples, was delighted at this change. " I desire to in- 
 form you," he wrote to her in English, " what joy it is to 
 me to understand of your conformableness with reason, and 
 of the suppressing of your inutile and vain thoughts and 
 fantasies with the bridle of reason. I assure you all the 
 greatness of this world could not counterpoise for my satis- 
 faction the knowledge and certainty thereof The unfeigned 
 
 sickness of this well-willing legate doth somewhat retard his 
 access to your person."-}- It was therefore the determina- 
 tion of the pope that made Anne Boleyn resolve to accept 
 Henry's hand ; this is an important lesson for which we are 
 indebted to the Vatican letters. We should be grateful to 
 the papacy for having so carefully preserved them. 
 
 But the more Henry rejoiced, the more Wolsey despaired ; 
 he would have desired to penetrate into Clement's thoughts, 
 but could not succeed. Imagining that De Angelis, the 
 general of the' Spanish Observance, knew all the secrets of 
 the pope and of the emperor, he conceived the plan of kid- 
 napping him. " If he goes to Spain by sea," said he to Du 
 Bellay, " a good brigantine or two would do the business ; 
 and if by land, it will be easier still." Du Bellay failed not 
 (as he informs us himself) " to. tell him plainly that by such 
 
 * Quern sirpius visitavi et amantis/me sum complexus. State Papers, 
 vii. p. 103. 
 f Pamphleteer, No. 43, r. 123.
 
 CAMPEGGIO'S INTERVIEW WITH TIIE QUEEN. 393 
 
 proceedings lie would entirely forfeit the pope's good will." 
 "What matter?" replied Wolsey, " Fhave nothing to lose." 
 As he said this, tears started to his eyes.* At last he made 
 up his mind to remain ignorant of the pontiff's designs, and 
 wiped his eyes, awaiting, not without fear, the interview be- 
 tween Henry and Campeggio. 
 
 On the 22d of October, a month after his arrival, the nun- 
 cio, borne in a sedan chair of red velvet, was carried to court. 
 He was placed on the right of the throne, and his secretary 
 in his name delivered a high-sounding speech, saluting 
 Henry with the name of Saviour of Rome, Liberator urlif. 
 " His majesty," replied Fo* in the king's name, " has only 
 performed the duties incumbent on a Christian prince, and 
 he hopes that the holy see will bear them in mind." " Well 
 attacked, well defended," said Du Bellay. For the moment, 
 a few Latin declamations got the papal 'nuncio out of his 
 difficulties. 
 
 Campeggio did not deceive himself: if the divorce were 
 refused, he foresaw the reformation of England. Yet he 
 hoped still, for he was assured that Catherine would submit 
 to the judgment of the church; and being fully persuaded 
 that the queen would refuse the holy father nothing, -the 
 nuncio began " his approaches," as Du Bellay calls them. 
 On the 27th of October, the two cardinals waited on Cathe- 
 rine, and in flattering terms insinuated that she might pre- 
 vent the blow which threatened her by voluntary retirement 
 into a convent. And then, to end all indecision in the queen's 
 mind, Campeggio put on a severe look and exclaimed: " How 
 is it, madam, explain the mystery to us ? From the moment 
 the holy father appointed us to examine the question of your 
 divorce, you have been seen not only at court, but in public, 
 wearing the most magnificent ornaments, participating with 
 an appearance of gaiety and satisfaction at amusements and 
 
 festivities which you had never tolerated before The 
 
 church is in the most cruel embarrassment with regard to 
 you ; the king, your husband, is in the greatest perplexity ; 
 the princess, your daughter, is taken from you and in- 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorenoy, 21st October. Le Grand. Preuves, 
 p. 185.
 
 3D 4 THE QUEEN'S REPLY. 
 
 stead of shedding tears, you give yourself up to vanity. 
 Renounce the world, madam ; enter a nunnery. Our holy 
 father himself requires this of you." * 
 
 The agitated queen was almost fainting ; stifling her emo- 
 tion, however, she said mildly but firmly : " Alas ! my lords, 
 is it now a question whether I am the king's lawful wife or 
 not, when I have been married to him almost twenty years 
 
 and no objection raised before? Divers prelates and lords 
 
 are yet alive who then adjudged our marriage good and law- 
 ful, and now to say it is detestable ! this is a great marvel 
 to me, especially when I consider what a wise prince the 
 king's father was, and also the natural love and affection my 
 father, King Ferdinand, bare unto me. I think that neither 
 of these illustrious princes would have made me contract an 
 illicit union." At these words, Catherine's emotion com- 
 pelled her to stop*. " If I weep, my lords," she continued 
 almost immediately, " it is not for myself, it is for a person 
 dearer to me than my life. What ! I should consent to an 
 act which deprives my daughter of a crown ? No, I will not 
 sacrifice my child. I know what dangers threaten me. I 
 am only a weak woman, a stranger, without learning, ad- 
 visers, or friends and my enemies are skilful, learned in 
 
 the laws, and desirous to merit their master's favour 
 
 and more than that, even my judges are my enemies. Can 
 I receive as such." she said as she looked at Campeggio, 
 
 " a man extorted from the pope by manifest lying? And 
 
 as for you," added she, turning haughtily to Wolsey, " having 
 failed in attaining the tiara, you have sworn to revenge your- 
 self on my nephew the emperor and you have kept him 
 
 true promise ; for of all his wars and vexations, he may only 
 thank you. One victim was not enough for you. Forging 
 abominable suppositions, you desire to plunge his aunt into 
 
 a frightful abyss But my cause is just, and I trust it in 
 
 the Lord's hand." After this bold language, the unhappy 
 Catherine withdrew to her apartments. The imminence of 
 the danger effected a salutary revolution in her; she laid 
 aside her brilliant ornaments, assumed the sober garments 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency 1st November. Le Grand, Preuves, 
 p. 1.05.
 
 HENRY'S INTERVIEW WITH THE NUNCIO. 395 
 
 in which she is usually represented, and passed days and 
 nights in mourning and in tears.* 
 
 Thus Campeggio saw his hopes deceived ; he had thought 
 
 to find a nun, and had met a queen and a mother He 
 
 now proceeded to set every imaginable spring at work; as 
 Catherine would not renounce Henry, he must try and pre- 
 A'ail upon Henry to renounce his idea of separating from the 
 queen. The Roman legate therefore changed his batteries, 
 and turned them against the king. 
 
 Henry, always impatient, went one day unannounced to 
 Campeggio's lodging, accompanied by Wolsey only :-j- " As 
 we are without witnesses," he said, taking his seat familiarly 
 between the two cardinals, " let us speak freely of our affairs. J 
 How shall you proceed ?" But to his great astonishment 
 and grief, the nuncio prayed him, with all imaginable de- 
 licacy, to renounce the divorce.|| At these words the fiery 
 Tudor burst out : " Is this how the pope keeps his word ? 
 He sends me an ambassador to annul my marriage, but in 
 reality to confirm it." He made a pause. Campeggio knew 
 not what to say. Henry and Catherine being equally per- 
 suaded of the justice of their cause, the nuncio was in a 
 dilemma. Wolsey himself suffered a martyrdom.^ The 
 king's anger grew fiercer ; he had thought the legate would 
 hasten to withdraw an imprudent expression, but Campeggio 
 was dumb. " I see that you have chosen your part," said 
 Henry to the nuncio ; " mine, you may be sure, will soon be 
 taken also. Let the pope only persevere in this way of act- 
 ing, and the apostolical see, cohered with perpetual infamy, 
 will be visited with a frightful destruction."** The lion had 
 thrown off the lamb's skin which he had momentarily as- 
 
 * Regina in luctu et lacrymis nodes diesque egit. Sanders, p. 29. 
 
 f Regia majestas et ego ad eum crebro accessimus. State Papers, 
 vii. p. 103. 
 
 J Rex et duo cardinales, remotis arbitris, de suis rebus multum et dis 
 collocuti. Sanders, p. 29. 
 
 Incredibili utriusque nostrum animi moerore. State Papers, vii. p. 104. 
 
 !! Conatus est ornne divortium inter regiam majestatem et regiiia'.n 
 dissuadere. Ibid. 
 
 H Non absque ingenti cruciatu. Ibid. 
 
 ** lugemiscendum excidium, perpetua infamia. Ibid.
 
 396 CAMPEGGIO SHOWS THE DECRETAL. 
 
 sumed. Campeggio felt that he must appease the monarch. 
 " Craft and delay" were his orders from Rome ; and with 
 that view the pope had provided him with the necessafy 
 arms. He hastened to produce the famous decretal which 
 pronounced the divorce. " The holy father," he told the 
 king, " ardently desires that this matter should be terminated 
 by a happy reconciliation between you and the queen ; but 
 if that is impossible, you shall judge yourself whether or not 
 his holiness can keep his promises." He then read the bull, 
 and even showed it to Henry, without permitting it, however, 
 to leave his hands. This exhibition produced the desired 
 effect : Henry grew calm. " Now I am at ease again," he 
 said ; " this miraculous talisman revives all my courage. 
 This decretal is the efficacious remedy that will restore peace 
 to my oppressed conscience, and joy to my bruised heart.* 
 Write to his holiness, that this immense benefit binds me to 
 him so closely, that he may expect from me more than his 
 imagination can conceive." 
 
 And yet a few clouds gathered shortly after in the king's 
 mind. 
 
 Campcggio having shown the bull had hastened to lock it 
 up again. Would he presume to keep it in his own hands ? 
 Henry and Wolsey will leave no means untried to get pos- 
 session of it ; that point gained, and victory is theirs. 
 
 Wolsey having returned to the nuncio, he asked him for 
 the decretal with an air of candour as if it was the most na- 
 tural thing in the world. He desired, he said, to show it to 
 the king's privy councillors. " The pope," replied Campeg- 
 gio, " has granted this bull, not to be used, but to be kept 
 secret ;f he simply desired to show the king the good feeling 
 by which he was animated." Wolsey having failed, Henry 
 tried his skill. " Have the goodness to hand me the bull 
 which you showed me," said he. The nuncio respectfully 
 refused. " For a single moment," he said. Campeggio still 
 refused. The haughty Tudor retired, stifling his anger. 
 Then Wolsey made another attempt, and founded his de- 
 
 * Remedium levamenque affiictae oppressaque conscientizc. State 
 Papers, vii. p. 104. 
 h Non ut ea uteremur, sed ut sccreta haberctur. Ibid.
 
 REFUSES TO PART WITH IT. 397 
 
 raand on justice. " Like you, I am delegated by his holi- 
 ness to decide this affair," he said, " and I wish to study the 
 important document which is to regulate our proceedings/' 
 This was met by a new refusal. " What!" exclaimed the. 
 ^minister of Henry VIII., " am I not, like you, a cardinal? 
 
 like you, a judge? your colleague?" It mattered not, 
 
 the nuncio would not, by any means, let the decretal go.* 
 Clement was not deceived in the choice he had made of 
 Campeggio: the ambassador was worthy of his master. 
 
 It was evident that the pope in granting the bull had been 
 acting a part : this trick revolted the king. It was no longer 
 anger that he felt, but disgust. Wolsey knew that Henry's 
 contempt was more to be feared than his wrath. He grew 
 alarmed, and paid the nuncio another visit. " The general 
 commission," he said, " is insufficient, the decretal commis- 
 sion alone can be of service, and you do not permit us to 
 
 read a word of it.-J- The king and I place the greatest 
 
 confidence in the good intentions of his holiness, and yet we 
 find our expectations frustrated. J Where is that paternal 
 affection with which we had flattered ourselves ? What 
 prince has ever been trifled with as the king of England is 
 now? If this is the way in which the Defender of the Faith 
 is rewarded, Christendom will know what those who serve 
 Rome will have to expect from her, and every power will 
 withdraw its support. Do not deceive yourselves : the 
 foundation on which the holy see is placed is so very insecure 
 that the least movement will suffice to precipitate it into 
 everlasting ruin What a sad futurity! what inex- 
 pressible torture! whether I wake or sleep, gloomy 
 
 thoughts continually pursue me like a frightful nightmare." || 
 This time Wolsey spoke the truth. 
 
 But all his eloquence was useless ; Campeggio refused to 
 
 * Nullo pacto adduci vult, ut mihi, suo collegce, commissionem hano 
 decreta'iem e suis maaibus credat. State Papers, vii. p. 105. 
 
 f Nee ullum verbum nee mentionem ullam. Ibid. 
 
 t Esse omui spe frustrates quam in przefata Sanctitate tarn ingenue 
 reposueramtis. Ibid. 
 
 A fundamento tarn levi, incertaque statera pendeat, ut in sempiter- 
 nam ruinam. Ibid. p. IOC. 
 
 Q Quanto animi cruciatu vigilans dormiensque. Ibid. p. 108.
 
 398 THE NUNCIO REFUSES EVERYTHING. 
 
 give up the so much desired bull. When sending him, 
 Rome had told him: "Above all, do not succeed!" This 
 means having failed, there remained for Wolsey one other 
 way of effecting the divorce. " Well, then," he said to 
 Campeggio, " let us pronounce it ourselves." " Far be it 
 from us," replied the nuncio ; " the anger of the emperor 
 will be so great, that the peace of Europe will be broken for 
 ever." " I know how to arrange all that," replied the Eng- 
 lish cardinal, " in political matters you may trust to me." * 
 The nuncio then took another tone, and proudly wrapping 
 himself up in his morality, he said : " I shall follow the voice 
 of my conscience; if I see that the divorce is possible, I 
 shall leap the ditch ; if otherwise, ... shall not." " Your con- 
 science ! that may be easily satisfied," rejoined Wolsey. 
 " Holy Scripture forbids a man to marry his brother's widow ; 
 now no pope can grant what is forbidden by the law of 
 God." " The Lord preserve us from such a principle," ex- 
 claimed the Roman prelate ; " the power of the pope is un- 
 limited." The nuncio had hardly put his conscience forward 
 before it stumbled ; it bound him to Rome and not to 
 heaven. But for that matter, neither public opinion nor 
 Campeggio's own friends had any great idea of his morality ; 
 they thought that to make him leap the ditch, it was only 
 requisite to know the price at which he might be bought. 
 The bishop of Bayonne wrote to Montmorency : " Put at the 
 close of a letter which I can show Campeggio something 
 
 promissory, that he shall have benefices That will cost 
 
 you nothing, and may serve in this matter of the marriage ; 
 for I know that he is longing for something of the sort." 
 " What is to be done then," said Wolsey at last, astonished 
 at meeting with a resistance to which he was unaccustomed. 
 <l I shall inform the pope of what I have seen and heard," 
 icplied Campeggio, "and I shall wait for his instructions." 
 Henry was forced to consent to this new course, for the 
 nuncio hinted, that if it were opposed he would go in person 
 to Rome to ask the pontiff's orders, and he never would have 
 returned. By this means several months were gained. 
 During this time men's minds were troubled. The pros- 
 " Du Bellay to Montmorency. Lo Grand, Preuyes, p. 266.
 
 THE PEOPLE SUPPORT CATHERINE. 300 
 
 pect of a divorce between the king and queen had stirred 
 the nation ; and the majority, particularly among the women, 
 declared against the king. " Whatever may be done," the 
 people said boldly, " whoever marries the Princess Mary 
 will be king of England."* Wolsey's spies informed him 
 that Catherine and Charles V. had many devoted partisans 
 even at the court. He wished to make sure of this. " It is 
 pretended," he said one day in an indifferent tone, " that the 
 emperor has boasted that he will get the king driven from 
 
 his realm, and that by his majesty's own subjects "What 
 
 do you think of it, my lords ? " " Tough against the spur," 
 says Du Bellay, the lords remained silent. At length, how- 
 ever, one of them more imprudent than the rest, exclaimed : 
 " Such a boast will make the emperor lose more than a 
 hundred thousand Englishmen." This was enough for 
 "Wolsey. To lose them, he thought, Charles must have 
 them. If Catherine thought of levying war against her 
 husband, following the example of former queens of Eng- 
 land, she would have, then, a party ready to support her ; 
 this became dangerous. 
 
 The king and the cardinal immediately took their meas- 
 ures. More than 15,000 of Charles's subjects were ordered 
 to leave London ; the arms of the citizens were seized, " in 
 order that they might have no worse weapon than the 
 tongue ;"f the Flemish councillors accorded to Catherine 
 were dismissed, after they had been heard by the king and 
 Campeggio, "for they had no commission to speak to the 
 other [Wolsey] " and finally, they kept " a great and con- 
 stant watch " upon the country. Men feared an invasion of 
 England, and Henry was not of a humour to subject his 
 kingdom to the pope. 
 
 This was not enough ; the alarmed king thought it his 
 duty to come to an explanation with his people ; and having 
 summoned the lords spiritual and temporal, the judges, the 
 members of the privy-council, the mayor and aldermen of 
 the city, and many of the gentry, to meet him at his palace 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency, 8th November 1528. Le Grand, 
 Preuves, p. 204. t Ibid. p. 232,
 
 400 HENRY'S SPEECH TO THE LORDS. 
 
 of Bridewell on the 13th of November,* he said to them with 
 a very condescending air : " You know, my lords and gentle- 
 men, that for these twenty years past divine Providence has 
 granted our country such prosperity as it had never known 
 before. But in the midst of all the glory that surrounds me, 
 the thought of my last hour often occurs to me,-J- and I fear 
 that if I should die without an heir, my death would cause 
 more damage to my people than my life has done them good. 
 God forbid, that for want of a legitimate king England 
 should be again plunged into the horrors of civil war!" 
 Then calling to mind the illegalities invalidating his mar- 
 riage with Catherine, the king continued : " These thoughts 
 have filled my mind with anxiety, and are continually prick- 
 ing my conscience. This is the only motive, and God is my 
 witness, J which has made me lay this matter before the 
 pontiff. As touching the queen, she is a woman incompar- 
 able in gentleness, humility, and buxomness, as I these 
 twenty years have had experiment of; so that if I were to 
 marry again, if the marriage might be good, I would surely 
 choose her above all other women. But if it be determined 
 by judgment that our marriage was against God's law, and 
 surely void, then I shall not only sorrow in departing from 
 so good a lady and loving companion, but much more lament 
 and bewail my unfortunate chance, that I have so long lived 
 in adultery, to God's great displeasure, and have no true 
 heir of my body to inherit this realm Therefore I re- 
 quire of you all to pray with us that the very truth may 
 be known, for the discharging of our conscience and the 
 saving of our soul." These words, though wanting in 
 sincerity, were well calculated to soothe men's minds. Un- 
 fortunately, it appears that after this speech from the crown, 
 the official copy of which has been preserved, Henry 
 added a few words of his own. " If however," he said, ac- 
 
 * This act is dated Idibus Novembris. Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 714. 
 Herbert and Collyer say the 8th November. 
 
 tin mentem uua venit et concurrit mortis cogitatio. Ibid. 
 
 J Hsec una res quod Deo teste et in regis oraculo affirmamus. Wilkins, 
 Concilia, iii. p. 714. Hall, p. 754.
 
 COURT REJOICINGS. 401 
 
 cording to Du Bellay, casting a threatening glance around 
 him, " there should be any man whatsoever who speaks of 
 his prince in other than becoming terms, I will show him 
 that I am the master, and there is no head so high that I 
 will not roll it from his shoulders."* This was a speech in 
 Henry's style ; but we cannot give unlimited credit to Du 
 Bellay's assertions, this diplomatist being very fond, like 
 others of his class, of " seasoning" his despatches. But 
 whatever may be the fact as regards the postscript, the 
 speech on the divorce produced an effect. From that time 
 there were no more jests, not even on the part of the Boleyns' 
 enemies. Some supported the king, others were content to 
 pity the queen in secret ; the majority prepared to take ad- 
 vantage of a court-revolution which every one foresaw. 
 " The king so plainly gave them to understand his pleasure," 
 says the French ambassador, " that they speak more soberly 
 than they have done hitherto." 
 
 Henry wishing to silence the clamours of the people, and 
 to allay the fears felt by the higher classes, gave several 
 magnificent entertainments at one time in London, at another 
 at Greenwich, now at Hampton Court, and then at Rich- 
 mond. The queen accompanied him, but Anne generally 
 remained " in a very handsome lodging which Henry had 
 furnished for her," says Du Bellay. The cardinal, following 
 his master's example, gave representations of French plays 
 with great magnificence. All his hope was in France. " I 
 desire nothing in England, neither in word nor in deed, which 
 is not French,"f he said to the bishop of Bayonne. At 
 length Anne Boleyn had accepted the brilliant position she 
 had at first refused, and every day her stately mansion 
 (Suffolk House) was filled with a numerous court, " more 
 than ever had crowded to the queen." " Yes, yes," said Du 
 Bellay, as he saw the crowd turning towards the rising sun, 
 " they wish by these little things to accustom the people to 
 endure her, that when great ones are attempted, they may 
 not be found so strange." 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency, 17th November 1528. Le Grand, 
 Preuves, p. 218. 
 
 t Du Bellay to Montmorency, 1st January. Ibid. p. 268. 
 VOL. v. 18
 
 402 DU BELLAY SOLICITS CAMPEGGM). 
 
 In the midst of these festivities the grand business did not 
 slumber. When the French ambassador solicited the sub- 
 sidy intended for the ransom of the sons of Francis L, the 
 cardinal required of him in exchange a paper proving that 
 the marriage had never been valid. Du Bellay excused 
 himself on the ground of his age and want of learning ; but 
 being given to understand that he could not have the subsidy 
 without it, he wrote the memoir in a single day. The en- 
 raptured cardinal and king entreated him to speak with Cam- 
 peggio.* The ambassador consented, and succeeded beyond 
 all expectation. The nuncio, fully aware that a bow too 
 much bent will break, made Henry by turns become the 
 sport of hope and fear. " Take care how you assert that 
 the pope had not the right to grant a dispensation to the 
 king," said he to the French bishop ; " this would be denying 
 his power, which is infinite. But," added he in a mysterious 
 tone, " I will point out a road that will infallibly lead you 
 to the mark. Show that the holy father has been deceived 
 by false information. Push me hard on that" he continued, 
 " so as to force me to declare that the dispensation was 
 granted on erroneous grounds."f Thus did the legate him- 
 self reveal the breach by which the fortress might be sur- 
 prised. " Victory!" exclaimed Henry, as he entered Anne's 
 apartments all beaming with joy. 
 
 But this confidence on the part of Campeggio was only a 
 new trick. " There is a great rumour at court," wrote Du 
 Bellay soon after, " that the emperor and the king of France 
 are coming together, and leaving Henry alone, so that all 
 will fall on his shoulders." f Wolsey, finding that the in- 
 trigues of diplomacy had failed, thought it his duty to put 
 fresh springs in motion, " and by all good and honest means 
 to gain the pope's favour. He saw, besides, to his great 
 sorrow, the new catholicity then forming in the world, and 
 uniting, by the closest bonds, the Christians of England to 
 those of the continent. To strike down one of the leaders of 
 
 * Le Grand, Preuves, p. 2i'0. 
 
 |- Poussez-moi cela raide. Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, 
 Preuves, p. 217. 
 t Ibid, p, 219. Ibid. p. ?25.
 
 TRUE CATHOLICITY. 403 
 
 this evangelical movement might incline the court of Rome 
 in Henry's favour. The cardinal undertook, thereiore, to 
 persecute Tyndale; and this resolution will now transport 
 us to Germany. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 True Catholicity Wolsey Harman's Matter West sent to Cologne 
 Labours of Tyndale and Fryth Riucke at Frankfort He makes a 
 Discovery Tyndale at Marburg West returns to England His Tor- 
 tures in the Monastery. 
 
 THE residence of Tyndale and his friends in foreign countries, 
 and the connexions there formed with pious Christians, testify 
 to the fraternal spirit which the Reformation then restored 
 to the church. It is in protestantism that true catholicity is 
 to be found. The Romish church is not a catholic church. 
 Separated from the churches of the east, which are the oldest 
 in Christendom, and from the reformed churches, which are 
 the purest, it is nothing but a sect, and that a degenerated 
 one. A church which should profess to believe in an epis- 
 copal unity, but which kept itself separate from the episco- 
 pacy of Rome and of .the East, and from the evangelical 
 churches, would be no longer a catholic church ; it would be 
 a sect more sectarian still than that of the Vatican, a frag- 
 ment of a fragment. The church of the Saviour requires a 
 truer, a diviner unity than that of priests, who condemn one 
 another. It was the reformers, and particularly Tyndale,* 
 who proclaimed throughout Christendom the existence of a 
 body of Christ, of which all the children of God are members. 
 The disciples of the Reformation are the true catholics. 
 
 It was a catholicity of another sort that Wolsey desired 
 to uphold. He did not reject certain reforms in the church, 
 particularly such as brought him any profit ; but, before all, 
 he wished to preserve for the hierarchy their privileges and 
 uniformity. The Romish church in England was then per- 
 
 * The Church of Christ is the multitude of all them that believe ia 
 Christ, &c. Exposition of Matthew, Prologue.
 
 404 WOLSEY'S CATHOLICITY. 
 
 sonified in him, and if he fell, its ruin would be near. His 
 political talents and multiplied relations with the continent, 
 caused him to discern more clearly than others the dangers 
 which threatened the popedom. The publication of the Scrip- 
 tures of God in English appeared to some a cloud without 
 importance, which would soon disappear from the horizon ; but 
 to the foreseeing glance of Wolsey, it betokened a mighty 
 tempest. Besides, he loved not the fraternal relations then 
 forming between the evangelical Christians of Great Britain 
 and of other nations. Annoyed by this spiritual catholicity, 
 he resolved to procure the arrest of Tyndale, who was its 
 principal organ. 
 
 Already had Hackett, Henry's envoy to the Low Coun- 
 tries, caused the imprisonment of Harman, an Antwerp mer- 
 chant, one of the principal supporters of the English reformer. 
 But Hackett had in vain asked Wolsey for such documents as 
 would convict him of treason (for the crime of loving the Bible 
 was not sufficient to procure Harman's condemnation in Bra- 
 bant) ; the envoy had remained without letters from England, 
 and the last term fixed by the law having expired, Harman 
 and his wife were liberated after seven months' imprisonment. 
 
 And yet Wolsey had not been inactive. The cardinal 
 hoped to find elsewhere the co-operation which Margaret of 
 Austria refused. It was Tyndale that he wanted, and every- 
 thing seemed to indicate that he was then hidden at Cologne 
 or in its neighbourhood. Wolsey, recollecting senator Rincke 
 and the services he had already performed, determined to send 
 to him one John West, a friar of the Franciscan convent at 
 Greenwich. West, a somewhat narrow-minded but ener- 
 getic man, was very desirous of distinguishing himself, and 
 he had already gained some notoriety in England among the 
 adversaries of the Reformation. Flattered by his mission, 
 this vain monk immediately set off for Antwerp, accompanied 
 by another friar, in order to seize Tyndale, and even Roy, 
 once his colleague at Greenwich, and against whom he had 
 there ineffectually contended in argument. 
 
 While these men were conspiring his ruin, Tyndale com- 
 posed several works, got them printed, and sent to England, 
 and prayed God night and day to enlighten his fellow coun-
 
 MISSION TO SEIZE TYNDALE. 405 
 
 trymen. " Why do you give yourself so much trouble ?" said 
 some of his friends. " They will burn your books as they 
 have burnt the Gospel." " They will only do what I expect," 
 replied he, " if they burn me also." Already he beheld his 
 own burning pile in the distance ; but it was a sight which 
 only served to increase his zeal. Hidden, like Luther at the 
 Wartburg, not however in a castle, but in a humble lodging, 
 Tyndale, like the Saxon reformer, spent his days and nights 
 translating the Bible. But not having an elector of Saxony 
 to protect him, he was forced to change his residence from 
 time to time. 
 
 At this epoch, Fryth, who had escaped from the prisons 
 of Oxford, rejoined Tyndale, and the sweets of friendship 
 softened the bitterness of their exile. Tyndale having finished 
 the New Testament, and begun the translation of the Old, 
 the learned Fryth was of great use to him. The mbre they 
 studied the word of God, the more they admired it. In the 
 beginning of 1529, they published the books of Genesis and 
 Deuteronomy, and addressing their fellow-countrymen, they 
 said : " As thou readest, think that every syllable pertaineth 
 to thine own self, and suck out the pith of the Scripture."* 
 Then denying that visible signs naturally impart grace, as 
 the schoolmen had pretended, Tyndale maintained that the 
 sacraments are effectual only when the Holy Ghost sheds 
 his influence upon them. " The ceremonies of the law," he 
 wrote, " stood the Israelites in the same stead as the sacra- 
 ments do us. We are saved not by the power of the sacrifice 
 or the deed itself, but by virtue of faith in the promise, 
 whereof the sacrifice or ceremony was a token or sign. The 
 Holy Ghost is no dumb God, ho God that'goeth a-mum- 
 ming. Wherever the word is proclaimed, this inward wit- 
 ness worketh. If baptism preach me the washing in Christ's 
 blood, so doth the Holy Ghost accompany it ; and that deed 
 of preaching through faith doth put away my sins. The 
 ark of Noah saved them in the water through faith."-j- 
 
 The man who dared address England in language so con- 
 trary to the teaching of the middle ages must be imprisoned. 
 
 * Prologue to the Book of Genesis (Doctr. Tr.) p. 400. 
 
 t Prologue to the Book of Leviticus (Doctr. Tr.* p. 423, 424, 428.
 
 406 TYNDALE SOUGHT AT FHANKFORT. 
 
 John "West, who had been sent with this object, arrived at 
 Antwerp ; Hackett procured for him as interpreter a friar of 
 English descent, made him assume a secular dress, and gave 
 him " three pounds " on the cardinal's account ; the less 
 attention the embassy attracted, the more likely it would be 
 to succeed. But great was West's vexation, on reaching 
 Cologne, to learn that Rincke was at Frankfort. But that 
 mattered not ; the Greenwich monk could search for Tyndale 
 at Cologne, and desire Rincke to do the same at Frankfort ; 
 thus there would be two searches instead of one. "West 
 procured a " swift" messenger, (he too was a monk,) and 
 gave him the letter "Wolsey had addressed to Rincke. 
 
 It was fair-time at Frankfort, and the city was filled with 
 merchants and their wares. As soon as Rincke had finished 
 reading Wolsey's letter, he hastened to the burgomasters, 
 and required them to confiscate the English translations of 
 the Scriptures, and, above all, to seize " the heretic who was 
 troubling England as Luther troubled Germany." " Tyn- 
 dale and his friends have not appeared in our fairs since the 
 month of March 1528," replied the magistrates, " and we 
 know not whether they are dead or alive." 
 
 Rincke was not discouraged. John Schoot of Strasburg, 
 who was said to have printed Tyndale's books, and who 
 cared less about the works he published than the money he 
 drew from them, happened to be at Frankfort. " Where is 
 Tyndale?" Rincke asked him. " I do not know," replied 
 the printer ; but he confessed that he had printed a thousand 
 volumes at the request of Tyndale and Roy. " Bring them 
 to me," continued the senator of Cologne. " If a fair price is 
 paid me, I will give them up to you." Rincke paid all that 
 was demanded. 
 
 Wolsey would now be gratified, for the New Testament 
 annoyed him almost as much as the divorce ; this book, so 
 dangerous in his eyes, seemed on the point of raising a con- 
 flagration which would infallibly consume the edifice of Ro- 
 man traditionalism. Rincke, who participated in his patron's 
 fears, impatiently opened the volumes made over to him ; 
 but there was a sad mistake, they were not the New Testa- 
 ment, not even a work of Tyndale's, but one written by
 
 RINCKE'S MISTAKE. 407 
 
 am Roy, a changeable and violent man, whom the 
 reformer had employed for some time at Hamburg, and who 
 had followed him to Cologne, but with whom he had soon 
 become disgusted. " I bade him farewell for our two lives/' 
 said Tyndale, " and a day longer." Roy, on quitting the 
 reformer, had gone to Strasburg, where he boasted of his 
 relations with him, and had got printed in that city a satire 
 against Wolsey and the monastic orders, entitled the Burial 
 of the Mass : this was the book delivered to Rincke. The 
 monk's sarcastic spirit had exceeded the legitimate bounds 
 of controversy, and the senator accordingly dared not send 
 the volumes to England. He did not however discontinue 
 his inquiries, but searched every place where he thought he 
 could discover the New Testament, and having seized all 
 the suspected volumes, set off for Cologne.* 
 
 Yet he was not satisfied. He wanted Tyndale, and went 
 about asking every one if they knew where to find himr 
 But the reformer, whom he was seeking in so many places, 
 and especially at Frankfort and Cologne, chanced to be resid- 
 ing at about equal distances from these two towns; so that 
 Rincke, while travelling from one to the other, might have 
 met him face to face, as Ahab's messenger met Elijah.-}- 
 Tyndale was at Marburg, whither he had been drawn by 
 several motives. Prince Philip of Hesse was the great pro- 
 tector of the evangelical doctrines. The university had at- 
 tracted attention in the Reform by the paradoxes of Lam- 
 bert of Avignon. Here a young Scotsman named Hamil- 
 ton, afterwards illustrious as a martyr, had studied shortly 
 before, and here too the celebrated printer, John Luft, had 
 his presses. In this city Tyndale and Fryth had taken up 
 their abode, in September 1528, and, hidden on the quiet 
 banks of the Lahn, were translating the Old Testament. If 
 Rincke had searched this place he could not have failed to 
 discover them. But either he thought not of it, or was 
 afraid of the terrible landgrave. The direct road by the 
 Rhine was that which he followed, and Tyndale escaped. 
 
 Anderson, Annals of the Bible, i. p. 203 : " I gathered together and 
 packed up all the books from every quarter " 
 + 1 Kincs xviii. 7.
 
 408 WEST'S ANNOYANCES. 
 
 When he arrived at Cologne, Rincke had an immediate 
 interview with West. Their investigations having failed, 
 they must have recourse to more vigorous measures. The 
 senator, therefore, sent the monk back to England, accompa- 
 nied by his son Hermann, charging them to tell Wolsey : 
 *' To seize Tyndale we require fuller powers, ratified by the 
 emperor. The traitors who conspire against the life of the 
 king of England are hot tolerated in the empire, much less 
 Tyndale and all those who conspire against Christendom. 
 He must be put to death ; nothing but some striking ex- 
 ample can check the Lutheran heresy. And as to ourselves," 
 they were told to add, " by the favour of God there may 
 possibly be an opportunity for his royal highness and your 
 grace to recompense us."* Rincke had not forgotten the 
 subsidy of ten thousand pounds which he had received from 
 Henry VII. for the Turkish war, when he had gone to Lon- 
 don as Maximilian's envoy. 
 
 West returned to England sorely vexed that he had failed 
 in his mission. What would they say at court and in his 
 monastery ? A fresh humiliation was in reserve for him. 
 Roy, whom West had gone to look for on the banks of the 
 Rhine, had paid a visit to his mother on the banks of the 
 Thames ; and to crown all, the new doctrines had penetrated 
 into his own convent. The warden, Father Robinson, had 
 embraced them, and night and day the Greenwich monks 
 read that New Testament which West had gone to Cologne 
 to burn. The Antwerp friar, who had accompanied him on 
 his journey, was the only person to whom he could confide 
 his sorrows ; but the Franciscans sent him back again to 
 the continent, and then amused themselves at poor West's 
 expense. If he desired to tell of his adventures on the 
 banks of the Rhine, he was laughed at ; if he boasted of the 
 names of Wolsey and Henry VIIL, they jeered him still 
 more. He desired to speak to Roy's mother, hoping to gain 
 some useful information from her ; this the monks prevented. 
 " It is in my commission," he said. They ridiculed him more 
 and more. Robinson, perceiving that the commission made 
 West assume unbecoming airs of independence, requested 
 
 Cotton MSS., Vitellius, B. xzi. fol, 43. Bible Annals, i. p. 204.
 
 NECESSITY OF THE REFORMATION. 409 
 
 Wolsey to withdraw it ; and "West, fancying he was about to 
 be thrown into prison, exclaimed in alarm : " I am weary of 
 my life ! " and conjured a friend whom he had at court to 
 procure him before Christmas an obedience under his lord- 
 ship's hand and seal, enabling him to leave the monastery : 
 " What you pay him for it," he added, " I shall see you be re- 
 imbursed." Thus did West expiate the fanatical zeal which 
 had urged him to pursue the translator of the oracles of God. 
 What became of him, we know not : he is never heard of 
 more. 
 
 At that time Wolsey had other matters to engage him 
 than this " obedience." While West's complaints were 
 going to London, those of the king were travelling to Rome. 
 The great business in the cardinal's eyes was to maintain 
 harmony between Henry and the church. There was no more 
 thought about investigations in Germany, and for a time 
 Tyndale was saved. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Necessity of the Reformation Wolsey's Earnestness with Da Casale 
 An Audience with Clement VII. Cruel Position of the Pope A Judas 
 Kiss A new Brief Bryan and Vannes sent to Rome Henry and Du 
 Bellay Wolsey's Reasons against the Brief Excitement in London- 
 Metamorphosis Wolsey's Decline His Anguish. 
 
 THE king and a part of his people still adhered to the pope- 
 dom, and so long as these bonds were not broken the word 
 of God could not have free course. But to induce England 
 to renounce Rome, there must indeed be powerful motives : 
 and these were not wanting. 
 
 Wolsey had never given such pressing orders to any of 
 Henry's ambassadors : " The king," he wrote to Da Casale 
 on the 1st of November 1528, " commits this business to 
 your prudence, dexterity, and fidelity ; and I conjure yoil to 
 employ all the powers of your genius, and even to surpass 
 them. Be very sure that you have done nothing and can 
 18* g
 
 410 CASALE'S AUDIENCE WITH CLEMENT. 
 
 do nothing that will be more agreeable to the king, more 
 desirable by me, and more useful and glorious for you and 
 your family." * 
 
 Da Casale possessed a tenacity which justified the cardi- 
 nal's confidence, and an active excitable mind : trembling at 
 the thought of seeing Rome lose England, he immediately 
 requested an audience of Clement VII. " What I " said he 
 to the pope, " just as it was proposed to go on with the 
 
 divorce, your nuncio endeavours to dissuade the king! 
 
 There is no hope that Catherine of Aragon will ever give an 
 heir to the crown. Holy father, there must be an end of 
 this. Order Campeggio to place the decretal in his majesty's 
 hands." " What say you ? " exclaimed the pope. " I would 
 gladly lose one of my fingers to recover it again, and you 
 
 ask me to make it public it would be my ruin."f Da 
 
 Casale insisted : " We have a duty to perform," he said ; 
 rt we remind you at this last hour of the perils threatening 
 the relations which unite Rome and England. The crisis is 
 at hand. We knock at your door, we cry, we urge, we en- 
 treat, we lay before you the present and future dangers 
 
 which threaten the papacy. J The world shall know that 
 
 the king at least has fulfilled the duty of a devoted son of 
 the church. If your holiness desires to keep England in St 
 
 Peter's fold, I repeat now is the time now is the 
 
 time." At these words, Da Casale, unable to restrain his 
 emotion, fell down at the pope's feet, and begged him to save 
 the church in Great Britain. The pope was moved. " Rise," 
 said he, with marks of unwonted grief, || " I grant you all 
 that is in my power ; I am willing to confirm the judgment 
 which the legates may think it their duty to pass ; but I ac- 
 quit myself of all responsibility as to the untold evils which 
 this matter may bring with it If the king, after having 
 
 * Vobis vestraeque familiae utilius aut hpnorificentius. State Papers, 
 vii. p. 1 14. 
 
 t Burnet, Records, ii. p. 20. Unius digiti jactura quod factum fuit 
 
 revocarem. 
 
 J Admonere, exclamare, rogare, instare, urgere, pulsate, pericula prae 
 sentia et futura demonstrate. State Papers, yii. p. 112. 
 
 Tempus jam in promptu adest. Ibid. 
 
 !! Burnet's Ref. i. p. 44. Records, p. xx.
 
 CAMP AN AS MISSION. 4 11 
 
 defended the faith and the church, desires to ruin both, on 
 him alone will rest the responsibility of so great a disaster." 
 Clement granted nothing. Da Casale withdrew disheartened, 
 and feeling convinced that the pontiff was about to treat with 
 Charles V. 
 
 Wolsey desired to save the popedom ; but the popedom 
 resisted. Clement VII. was about to lose that island which 
 Gregory the Great had won with such difficulty. Toe pope 
 was in the most cruel position. The English envoy had 
 hardly left the palace before the emperor's ambassador en- 
 tered breathing threats. The unhappy pontiff escaped the 
 assaults of Henry only to be exposed to those of Charles ; 
 he was thrown backwards and forwards like a ball. " I 
 shall assemble a general council," said the emperor through 
 his ambassador, " and if you are found to have infringed 
 the canons of the church in any point, you shall be pro- 
 ceeded against with every rigour. Do not forget," added his 
 agent in a low tone, " that your birth is illegitimate, and 
 consequently excludes you from the pontificate." The timid 
 Clement, imagining that he saw the tiara falling from his 
 head, swore to refuse Henry everything. " Alas ! " he said 
 to one of his dearest confidants, " I repent in dust and ashes 
 that I ever granted this decretal bull. If the king of Eng- 
 land so earnestly desires it to be given him, certainly it can- 
 not be merely to know its contents. He is but too familiar 
 with them. It is only to tie my hands in this matter of the 
 divorce ; I would rather die a thousand deaths." Clement, 
 to calm his agitation, sent one of his ablest gentlemen of the 
 bed-chamber, Francis Campana, apparently to feed the king 
 with fresh promises, but in reality to cut the only thread on 
 which Henry's hopes still hung. " We embrace your ma- 
 jesty," wrote the pope in the letter given to Campana, " with 
 the paternal love your numerous merits deserve." * Now 
 Campana was sent to England to burn clandestinely the 
 famous decretal ; 7 Clement concealed his blows by an em- 
 
 * Nos ilium paterna charitate complccti, ut sua erga nos atque hanc 
 sedem plurirna merita requirunt. State Papers, vii. 116. 
 
 t To charge Campegius to burn the decretal. Herbert, p. 250. Bur- 
 net's Ref. i. 47.
 
 412 SECRET BEIEF OF JULIUS II. 
 
 brace. Rome had granted many divorces not so well founded 
 as that of Henry VIII. ; ,but a very different matter from a 
 divorce was in question here ; the pope, desirous of uprais- 
 ing in Italy his shattered power, was about to sacrifice the 
 Tudor, and to prepare the triumph of the Reformation. 
 Rome was separating herself from England. 
 
 All Clement's fear was, that Campuna would arrive too 
 late to burn the bull; he was soon reassured; a dead calm 
 prevented the great matter from advancing. Campeggio, 
 who took care to be in no hurry about his mission, gave 
 himself up, like a skilful diplomatist, to his worldly tastes; 
 and when he could not, due respect being had to the state 
 of his legs, indulge in the chase, of which he was very fond, 
 he passed his time in gambling, to which he was much 
 addicted. Respectable historians assert that he indulged in 
 still more illicit pleasures.* But this could not last for ever, 
 and the nuncio sought some new means of delay, which 
 offered itself in the most unexpected manner. One day an 
 officer of the queen's presented to the Roman legate a brief 
 of Julius II., bearing the same date as the bull of dispensa- 
 tion, signed too, like that, by the secretary Sigismond, and 
 in which the pope expressed himself in such a manner, that 
 Henry's objections fell of themselves. " The emperor," said 
 Catherine's messenger, " has discovered this brief among the 
 papers of Puebla, the Spanish ambassador in England, at 
 the time of the marriage." " It is impossible to go on," said 
 Campeggio to Wolsey; "all your reasoning is now cut from 
 under you. We must wait for fresh instructions." This was 
 the cardinal's conclusion at every new incident, and the jour- 
 ney from London to the Vatican being very long (without 
 reckoning the Roman dilatoriness), the expedient was in- 
 fallible. 
 
 Thus there existed two acts of the same pope, signed on the 
 same day the one secret, the other public, in contradiction 
 to each other. Henry determined to send a new mission to 
 Rome. Anne proposed for this embassy one of the most 
 accomplished gentlemen of the court, her cousin, Sir Francis 
 
 * Hunting and gaming all the day long, and following harlots all the 
 night. Burnet, i. p. 52.
 
 TWO WIVES PROPOSED FOB HENRY. 413 
 
 Bryan. With him was joined an Italian, Peter Vannes, 
 Henry's Latin secretary. " You will search all the registers 
 of the time of Julius II.," said Wolsey to them; "you will 
 study the handwriting of Secretary Sigismond, and you will 
 attentively examine the ring of the fisherman used by that 
 pontiff.* Moreover, you will inform the pope that it is pro- 
 posed to set a certain greyfriar, named De Angelis, in his place, 
 to whom Charles would give the spiritual authority, reserving 
 the temporal for himself. You will manage so that Clement 
 takes alarm at the project, and you will then offer him a 
 guard of 2000 men to protect him. You will ask whether, 
 in case the queen should desire to embrace a religious life, 
 on condition of the king's doing the same, and Henry 
 should yield to this wish,f he could have the assurance that 
 the pope would afterwards release him from his vows. 
 And, finally, you will inquire whether, in case the queen 
 should refuse to enter a convent, the pope would permit the 
 king to have two wives, as we see in the Old Testament.":}: 
 Tbo idea which has brought so much reproach on the land- 
 grave of Hesse was not a new one; the honour of it belongs 
 to a cardinal and legate of Rome, whatever Bossuet may 
 say. " Lastly," continued Wolsey, " as the pope is of a 
 timid disposition, you will not fail to season your remon- 
 strances with threats. You, Peter, will take Kim aside and 
 tell him that, as an Italian, having more at heart than any 
 one the glory of the holy se'e, it is your duty to warn him, 
 that if he persists, the king, his realm, and many other 
 princes, will for ever separate from the papacy." 
 
 It was not on the mind of the pope alone that it was ne- 
 cessary to act; the rumour that the emperor and the king 
 of France were treating together disturbed Henry. Wolsey 
 ad vainly tried to sound Du Bellay; these two priests tried 
 craft against craft. Besides, the Frenchman was not always 
 
 * State Papers, vii. p. 126, note. 
 
 t Only thereby to conduce the queen thereunto. Ibid. p. 136, note. 
 
 De dnabus uxoribns. Henry's Instructions to Knight, in the middle 
 of December 1 528. Ibid, p 137. Some great reasons and precedents of 
 the Old Testament appear, 'astructions to same, 1st Dec. Ibid. p. 136, 
 note.
 
 414 HENRY'S CONFERENCE WITH DU BELLA Y. 
 
 seasonably informed by his court, letters taking ten days to 
 come from Paris to London.* Henry resolved to have a 
 conference with the ambassador. He began by speaking to 
 him of his matter, says Du Bellay, " and I promise you," ho 
 added, " that he needs no advocate, he understands the 
 whole business so well." Henry next touched upon the 
 wrongs of Francis I., " recalling so many things that the 
 envoy knew not what to say." " I pray you, Master Am- 
 bassador," said Henry in conclusion, " to beg the king, my 
 brother, to give up a little of his amusements during a year 
 only for the prompt despatch of his affairs. Warn those 
 whom it concerns." Having given this spur to the king of 
 France, Henry turned his thoughts towards Rome. 
 
 In truth, the fatal brief from Spain tormented him day and 
 nighj, and the cardinal tortured his mind to find proofs of 
 its non-authenticity; if he could do so, he would acquit the 
 papacy of the charge of duplicity, and accuse the emperor of 
 forgery. At last he thought he had succeeded. " In the 
 first place," he said to the king, " the brief has the same 
 date as the bull. Now, if the errors in the latter had been 
 found out on the day it was drawn up, it would have been 
 more natural to make another than to append a brief point- 
 ing out the eiTors. What ! the same pope, the same day, 
 at the petition of the same persons, give out two rescripts 
 for one effect,-f- one of which contradicts the other ! Either 
 the bull was good, and then, why the brief? or the bull was 
 bad, and then, why deceive princes by a worthless bull? 
 Many names are found in the brief incorrectly spelt, and 
 these are faults which the pontifical secretary, whose accu- 
 racy is so well known, could not have committed.}: Lastly, 
 no one in England ever heard mention of this brief; and yet 
 it is here that it ought to be found." Henry charged Knight, 
 his principal secretary, to join the other envoys with all 
 
 * La dite lettre du roi, combien qu'elle fut du 3, je 1'ai reyue sinon le 
 13 ; le pareil m'advint quasi de toutes autres. Du Bellay to Montmor- 
 ency, 20 Dec. Le Grand, Preuves. 
 
 t State Papers, vol. vii. p. 130. 
 
 Queen Isabella was called Elizabeth in the brief ; but I have seen a 
 document from the court of Madrid in which Queen Elizabeth of England 
 wag called Isabella ; it is not therefore an error without a parallel.
 
 CHARLES V. TRIUMPHS. 415 
 
 speed, in order to prove to the pope the supposititious char- 
 acter of the document. 
 
 This important paper revived the irritation felt in England 
 against Charles V., and it was resolved to come to extremi- 
 ties. Every one discontented with Austria took refuge in 
 London, particularly the Hungarians. The ambassador 
 from Hungary proposed to Wolsey to adjudge the imperial 
 crown of Germany to the elector of Saxony or the landgrave 
 of Hesse, the two chiefs of protestantism.* Wolsey ex- 
 claimed in alarm: "It will be an inconvenience to Christen- 
 dom, they are so Lutheran." But the Hungarian ambassa- 
 dor so satisfied him, that in the end he did not find the 
 matter quite so inconvenient. These schemes were pros- 
 pering in London, when suddenly a new metamorphosis 
 took place under the eyes of Du Bellay. The king, the 
 cardinal, and the ministers appeared in strange consterna- 
 tion. Vincent da Casale had just arrived from Rome with 
 a letter from his cousin the prothonotary, informing Henry 
 that the pope, seeing the triumph of Charles V., the inde- 
 cision of Francis I., the isolation of the king of England, and 
 the distress of his cardinal, had flung himself into the arms 
 of the emperor. At Rome they went so far as to jest about 
 Wolsey, and to say that since he could not be St Peter they 
 would make him St Paul. 
 
 While they were ridiculing Wolsey at Rome, at St Ger- 
 main's they were joking about Henry. " I will make him 
 get rid of the notions he has in his head," said Francis ; and 
 the Flemings, who were again sent out of the country, said 
 as they left London, " that this year they would carry on 
 the war so vigorously, that it would be really a sight worth 
 seeing." 
 
 Besides these public griefs, Wolsey had his private ones. 
 Anne Boleyn, who had already begun to use her influence 
 on behalf of the despotic cardinal's victims, gave herself no 
 rest until Cheyney, a courtier disgraced by Wolsey, had been 
 restored to the king's favour. Anne even gave utterance to 
 several biting sarcasms against the cardinal, and the duke 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency, 12 Jan. 1529. Le Grand, PreuTas, p. 
 279.
 
 416 WOLSEY'S TROUBLE. 
 
 of Norfolk and his party began " to speak big," says Du 
 Bellay. At the moment when the pope, scared by Charles 
 V., was separating from England, Wolsey himself was tot- 
 tering. Who shall uphold the papacy? After Wolsey, 
 
 nobody! Rome was on the point of losing the power which 
 for nine centuries she had exercised in the bosom of this 
 illustrious nation. The cardinal's anguish cannot be de- 
 scribed; unceasingly pursued by gloomy images, he saw 
 Anne on the throne causing, the triumph of the Reformation: 
 this nightmare was stifling him. " His grace, the legate, is 
 in great trouble," wrote the bishop of Bayonne. " However 
 
 he is more cunning than they are."* 
 
 To still the tempest Wolsey had only one resource left : 
 this was to render Clement favourable to his master's de- 
 signs. The crafty Campana, who had burnt the decretal, 
 conjured him not to believe all the reports transmitted to 
 him concerning Rome. " To satisfy the king," said he to 
 the cardinal, " the holy father will, if necessary, descend from 
 the pontifical throne."f Wolsey therefore resolved to send 
 to Rome a more energetic agent than Vannes, Bryan, or 
 Knight, and cast his eyes on Gardiner. His courage began 
 to revive, when an unexpected event fanned once more his 
 loftiest hopes. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Pope's Illness Wolsey's Desire Conference about the Members of 
 the Conclave Wolsey's Instructions The Pope recovers Speech of 
 the English Envoys to the Pope Clement willing to abandon England 
 The English demand the Pope's Denial of the Brief Wolsey's Alarm 
 Intrigues Bryan's Clearsightedness Henry's Threats Wolsey's 
 new Efforts He calls for an Appeal to Rome, and retracts Wolsey 
 and Du Bellay at Richmond The Ship of the State. 
 
 ON the 6th of January 1529, the feast of Epiphany, just as 
 the pope was performing mass, he was attacked by a sudden 
 
 * Le Grand, Preuves, p. 295, 296 
 t Burnet, Hist. Rf. vol. i. p. 60
 
 THE POPE'S ILLNESS GARDINER'S MISSION. 417 
 
 illness; he was taken to his room, apparently in a dying 
 state. When this news reached London, the cardinal re- 
 solved to hasten to abandon England, where the soil trem- 
 bled under his feet, and to climb boldly to the throne of the 
 pontiffs. Bryan and Vannes, then at Florence, hurried on 
 to Rome through roads infested with robbers. At Orvieto 
 they were informed the pope was better ; at Yiterbo, no one 
 knew whether he was alive or dead ; at Ronciglione, they were 
 assured that he had expired ; and, finally, when they reached 
 the metropolis of the popedom, they learnt that Clement could 
 not survive, and that the imperialists, supported by the Colon- 
 nas, were striving to have a pope devoted to Charles V.* 
 
 But great as might be the agitation at Rome, it was 
 greater still at Whitehall. If God caused De' Medici to de- 
 scend from the pontifical throne, it could only be, thought 
 Wolsey, to make him mount it. "It is expedient to have 
 such a pope as may save the realm," said he to Gardiner. 
 " And although it cannot but be incommodious to me in this 
 mine old age to be the common father, yet, when all things 
 be well pondered, the qualities of all the cardinals well con- 
 sidered, I am the only one, without boasting, that can and 
 will remedy the king's secret matter. And were it not for 
 the redintegration of the state of the church, and especially 
 to relieve the king and his realm from their calamities, all 
 the riches and honour of the world should not cause me to 
 accept the said dignity. Nevertheless, I conform myself to 
 the necessities of the times. Wherefore, Master Stephen, 
 that this matter may succeed, I pray you to apply all your 
 ingenuity, spare neither money nor labour. I give you the 
 amplest powers, without restriction or limitation.''-]- Gardi- 
 ner departed to win for his master the coveted tiara. 
 
 Henry VIII. and Wolsey, who could hardly restrain their 
 impatience, soon heard of the pontiff's death from different 
 quarters.^ " The emperor has taken away Clement's life,*' 
 
 State Papers, vii. p. 148-150. 
 
 t Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 601. 
 
 By sundry ways hath been advertised of the death of our holy father 
 Ibid. The king's Instructions. 
 
 By some detestable act committed for the late pope's destruction 
 Ibid. 603 
 
 02
 
 418 PARTIES AMONG THE CARDINALS. 
 
 said Wolsey, blinded by hatred. " Charles," rejoined the 
 king, " will endeavour to obtain by force or fraud a pope ac- 
 cording to his desires." " Yes, to make him his chaplain," 
 replied Wolsey, " and to put an end by degrees both to pope 
 and popedom."* "We must fly to the defence of 'the church," 
 resumed Henry, "and with that view, my lord, make up 
 your mind to be pope." " That aione," answered the cardi- 
 nal, " can bring your Majesty's weighty matter to a happy 
 
 termination, and by saving you, save the church and 
 
 myself also," he thought in his heart. " Let us see, let us 
 count the voters." 
 
 Henry and his minister then wrote down on a strip of 
 parchment the names of all the cardinals, marking with the 
 letter A those who were on the side of the kings of England 
 and France, and with the letter B all who favoured the em- 
 peror. " There was no C" says a chronicler sarcastically, " to 
 signify any on Christ's side." The letter N designated the 
 neutrals. " The cardinals present," said Wolsey, " will not 
 exceed thirty-nine, and we must have two-thirds, that is, 
 twenty-six. Now, there are twenty upon whom we can reckon ; 
 we must therefore, at any price, gain six of the neutrals." 
 
 Wolsey, deeply sensible of the importance of an election 
 that would decide whether "England was to be reformed or 
 not, carefully drew up the instructions, which Henry signed, 
 and which history must register. " We desire and ordain," 
 the ambassadors were informed in them, " that you secure 
 the election of the cardinal of York ; not forgetting that next 
 to the salvation of his own soul, there is nothing the king 
 desires more earnestly. 
 
 " To gain over the neutral cardinals you will employ two 
 methods in particular. The first is, the cardinals being pre- 
 sent, and having God and the Holy Ghost before them, you 
 shall remind them that the cardinal of York alone can save 
 Christendom. 
 
 " The second is, because human fragility suffereth not all 
 things to be pondered and weighed in a just balance, it ap- 
 pertaineth in matter of so high importance, to the comfort 
 
 * By little and little utterly t . sxclude and extinguish him and his au- 
 thority. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 603.
 
 MEANS TO GAIN THE TIABA. 419 
 
 and relief of all Christendom, to succour the infirmity that 
 
 may chance not for corruption, you will understand 
 
 but rather to help the lacks and defaults of human nature. 
 And, therefore, it shall be expedient that you promise spi- 
 ritual offices, dignities, rewards of money, or other things 
 which shall seem meet to the purpose. 
 
 " Then shall you, with good dexterity, combine and knit 
 those favourable to us in a perfect fastness and indissoluble 
 knot. And that they may be the better animated to finish 
 the election to the king's desire, you shall offer them a guard 
 of 2000 or 3000 men from the kings of England and France, 
 from the viscount of Turin, and the republic of Venice. 
 
 " If, notwithstanding all your exertions, the election should 
 fail, then the cardinals of the king's shall repair to some sure 
 place, and there proceed to such an election as may be to 
 God's pleasure. 
 
 " And to win more friends for the king, you shall promise, 
 on the one hand, to the Cardinal de' Medici and his party our 
 special favour ; and the Florentines, on the other hand, you 
 shall put in comfort of the exclusion of the said family De' 
 Medici. Likewise you shall put the cardinals in perfect hope 
 of recovering the patrimony of the church ; and you shall 
 contain the Venetians in good trust of a reasonable way to 
 be taken for Cervia and Ravenna (which formed part of the 
 patrimony) to their contentment."* 
 
 Such were the means by which the cardinal hoped to win 
 the papal throne. To the right he said yes, to the left he 
 said no. What would it matter that these perfidies were one 
 day discovered, provided it were after the election. Christen- 
 dom might be very certain that the choice of the future pon- 
 tiff would be the work of the Holy Ghost. Alexander VI. 
 had been a poisoner ; Julius II. had given way to ambition, 
 anger, and vice ; the liberal Leo X. had passed his life in 
 worldly pursuits ; the unhappy Clement VII. had lived on 
 stratagems and lies; Wolsey would be their worthy successor: 
 a All the seven deadly sins have worn the triple crown." f 
 
 Foxe, iv. p. 604-608. 
 
 t Les sept pe'che's mortels ont port la tiare. Casimir Delavigne, Der 
 niers chants, le Conclave.
 
 420 THE DIVORCE DEMANDED. 
 
 Wolsey found his excuse in the thought, that if he suc- 
 ceeded, the divorce was secured, and England enslaved for 
 ever to the court of Rome. 
 
 Success at first appeared probable. Many cardinals spoke 
 openly in favour of the English prelate ; one of them asked 
 for a detailed account of his life, in order to present it as a 
 model to the church ; another worshipped him (so he said) 
 
 as a divinity Among the gods and popes adored at Rome 
 
 there were some no better than he. But erelong alarming 
 news reached England. What grief ! the pope was getting 
 better. " Conceal your instructions," wrote the cardinal, "and 
 reserve them in omnem eventum." 
 
 Wolsey not having obtained the tiara, it was necessary at 
 least to gain the divorce. " God declares," said the English 
 ambassadors to the pope, " Except the Lord build the house, 
 they labour in vain that build it.* Therefore, the king, tak- 
 ing God alone for his guide, requests of you, in the first place, 
 an engagement to pronounce the divorce in the space of three 
 months, and in the second the avocation to Rome." " The 
 promise first, and only after that the avocation," Wolsey had 
 said ; " for I fear that if the pope begins with the avocation, 
 he will never pronounce the divorce." " Besides," added the 
 envoys, " the king's second marriage admits of no refusal, 
 whatever bulls or briefs there may be.-}- The only issue of 
 this matter is the divorce ; the divorce in one way or another 
 must be procured." 
 
 Wolsey had instructed his envoys to pronounce these 
 words with a certain air of familiarity, and at the same time 
 with a gravity calculated to produce an effect.:): His expecta- 
 tions were deceived: Clement was colder than ever. He had 
 determined to abandon England in order that he might secure 
 the States of the Church, of which Charles was then master, 
 thus sacrificing the spiritual to the temporal. " The pope 
 will not do the least thing for your majesty," wrote Bryan to 
 
 * Where Christ is not the foundation, surely no building can be of good 
 work. State Papers, vii. p. 122. 
 
 p Convolare ad secundas nuptias non patitur negativum. Ibid. p. 138. 
 
 $ Which words, fashioned with a familiarity and somewhat with ear- 
 nestness and gravity. Ibid.
 
 THE rOPi/S PATER AND CREDO. 421 
 
 the king ; " your matter may well be in his Pater noster, but 
 it certainly is not in his Credo"* " Increase in importunity," 
 answered the king ; " the cardinal of Verona should remain 
 about the pope's person and counterbalance the influence of 
 De Angelis and the archbishop of Capua. I would rather 
 lose my two crowns than be beaten by these two friars." 
 
 Thus was the struggle about to become keener than ever, 
 when Clement's relapse once more threw doubt on everything. 
 He was always between life and death ; and this perpetual 
 alternation agitated the king and the impatient cardinal in 
 every way. The latter considered that the pope had need of 
 merits to enter the kingdom of heaven. " Procure an inter- 
 view with the pope," he wrote to the envoys, " even though 
 he be in the very agony of death ; { and represent to him 
 that nothing will be more likely to save his soul than the bill 
 of divorce." Henry's commissioners were not admitted ; but 
 towards the end of March, the deputies appearing in a body,| 
 the pope promised to examine the letter from Spain. Vannes 
 began to fear this document ; he represented that those who 
 had fabricated it would have been able to give it an appear- 
 ance of authenticity. " Rather declare immediately that this 
 brief is not a brief," said he to the pope. " The king of 
 England, who is your holiness's son, is not so like the rest of 
 the world. We cannot put the same shoe on every foot." 
 This rather vulgar argument did not touch Clement. " If to 
 content your master in this business," said he, " I cannot 
 employ my head, at least I will my finger." || " Be pleased 
 to explain yourself," replied Vannes, who found ihefaiffer a 
 very little matter. " I mean," resumed the pontiff, " that I 
 shall employ every means, provided they are honourable" 
 Vannes withdrew disheartened. 
 
 He immediately conferred with his colleagues, and all to- 
 gether, alarmed at the idea of Henry's anger, returned to the 
 pontiff; they thrust aside the lackeys, who endeavoured to 
 
 " State Papers, TO!, i. p. 330. 
 + Burnet's Ref. i. p. 49. 
 
 J Postquam conjunctim omnes. State Papers, vii. p. 154. 
 Uno eodemque calceo omnium pedes velle ve&tire. Ibid. p. 156. 
 || Quod forsan non licebit toto capite assequi, in eo digitum imponam. 
 Ibid. p. 157.
 
 422 STRATAGEMS AND DELAYS. 
 
 stop them, and made their way into his bedchamber. Cle- 
 ment opposed them with that resistance of inertia by which 
 the popedom has gained its greatest victories : siluit, he re- 
 mained silent. Of what consequence to the pontiff were 
 Tudor, his island, and his church, when Charles of Austria 
 was threatening him with his armies ? Clement, less proud 
 than Hildebrand, submitted willingly to the emperor's power, 
 provided the emperor would protect him. " I had rather," 
 he said, " be Caesar's servant, not only in a temple, but in a 
 stable if necessary, than be exposed to the insults of rebels 
 and vagabonds."* At the same time he wrote to Campeggio : 
 " Do not irritate the king, but spin out this matter as much 
 as possible ;-f- the Spanish brief gives us the means." 
 
 In fact, Charles V. had twice shown Lee the original do- 
 cument, and Wolsey, after this ambassador's report, began 
 to believe that it was not Charles who had forged the brief, 
 but that Pope Julius II. had really given two contradictory 
 documents on the same day. Accordingly the cardinal now 
 feared to see this letter in the pontiffs hands. " Do all you 
 can to dissuade the pope from seeking the original in Spain," 
 wrote he to one of his ambassadors ; " it may exasperate the 
 emperor." We know how cautious the cardinal was towards 
 Charles. Intrigue attained its highest point at this epoch, 
 and Englishmen and Romans encountered craft with craft. 
 " In such ticklish negotiations," says Burnet, (who had had 
 some little experience in diplomacy,) "ministers must say and 
 unsay as they are instructed, which goes of course as a part of 
 their business." J Henry's envoys to the pope intercepted 
 the letters sent from Rome, and had Campeggio's seized. 
 On his part the pope indulged in flattering smiles and perfi- 
 dious equivocations. Bryan wrote to Henry VIII. : " Al- 
 ways your grace hath done for him in deeds, and he hath 
 recompensed you with fair words and fair writings, of which 
 both I think your grace shall lack none ; but as for the deeds, 
 
 * Malle Csesari a stabulo nedum a sacris inservire, quam inferiorum 
 hominum subditorum, vassalorum, rebellium 111 jurias sustinere. Herbert, 
 vol. i. p. 261. 
 
 f Le Grand, ol. i. x>. 131. 
 
 J Burnet's Ref. rol. 1. p. 54. 
 
 De intercipiendis literis. State Papers, vol. vii. p. 185.
 
 HENRY RECALLS HIS AMBASSADORS. 423 
 
 I never believe to see them, and especially at this time."* 
 Bryan had comprehended the court of Rome better perhaps 
 than many politicians. Finally, Clement himself, wishing to 
 prepare the king for the blow he was about to inflict, wrote 
 to him : " We have been able to find nothing that would 
 satisfy your ambassadors." -j- 
 
 Henry thought he knew what this message meant : that 
 he had found nothing, and would find nothing ; and accord- 
 ingly this prince, who, if we may believe Wolsey, had hitherto 
 shown incredible patience and gentleness, \ gave way to all 
 his violence. " Very well then," said he ; " my lords and I 
 well know how to withdraw ourselves from the authority 01 
 the Roman see." Wolsey turned pale, and conjured his 
 master not to rush into that fearful abyss ; Campeggio, too, 
 endeavoured to revive the king's hopes. But it was all of 
 no use. Henry recalled his ambassadors. 
 
 Henry, it is true, had not yet reached the age when violent 
 characters become inflexible from the habit they have en- 
 couraged of yielding to their passions. But the cardinal, who 
 knew his master, knew also that his inflexibility did not de- 
 pend upon the number of his years ; he thought Rome's 
 power in England was lost, and, placed between Henry and 
 Clement, he exclaimed : " How shall I avoid Scylla, and not 
 fall into Charybdis ? " || He begged the king to make one last 
 effort by sending Dr Bennet to the pope with orders to sup- 
 port the avocation to Rome, and he gave him a letter in 
 which he displayed all the resources of his eloquence. " How 
 can it be imagined," he wrote, " that the persuasions of sense 
 urge the king to break a union in which the ardent years of 
 
 his youth were passed with such purity ?^[ The matter is 
 
 very different. I am on the spot, I know the state of men's 
 minds Pray, believe me The divorce is the secondary 
 
 * State Papers, vol. vii. p. 167. 
 
 f He added : Tametsi noctes ac dies per nos ipsi, ac per juris-peritis- 
 simos viros omnes vias tent emus. Ibid. p. 165. 
 
 Incredibili patientia et humanitate. Burnet, Records, p. xxxii. 
 
 Ne prteceps hue vel illuc rex hie ruat curamus. Ibid. p. xxxiii. 
 
 I) Hanc Charybdin et hos scopulos evitasse. Ibid. p. xxxii. 
 
 I Sensuum suadela earn abrumpere cupiat cousuetudiiiem Ibid p. 
 xxxiii.
 
 424 WOLSEYS EARNESTNESS. 
 
 question ; the primary one is the fidelity of this realm to the 
 iiapal see. The nobility, gentry, and citizens all exclaim 
 with indignation : Must our fortunes, and even our lives, 
 depend upon the nod of a foreigner ? We must abolish, or 
 at the very least diminish, the authority of the Roman pon- 
 tiff.* Most holy father, we cannot mention such things 
 
 without a shudder." This new attempt was also unavail- 
 ing. The pope demanded of Henry how he could doubt his 
 good will, seeing that the king of England had done so much 
 for the apostolic see. f This appeared a cruel irony to Tudor ; 
 the king requested a favour of the pope, and the pope replied 
 by calling to mind those which the papacy had received from 
 his hands. " Is this the way," men asked in England, " in 
 which Rome pays her debts ?" 
 
 Wolsey had not reached the term of his misfortunes. 
 Gardiner and Bryan had just returned to London : they de- 
 clared that to demand an avocation to Rome was to lose 
 their cause. Accordingly Wolsey, who turned to every wind, 
 ordered Da Casale, in case Clement should pronounce the 
 avocation, to appeal from the pope, the false head of the 
 church, to the true vicar of Jesus Christ.]. This was almost 
 in Luther's style. Who was this true vicar ? Probably a 
 pope nominated by the influence of England. 
 
 But this proceeding did not assure the cardinal : he was 
 losing his judgment. A short time before this Du Bellay, 
 who had just returned from Paris, whither he had gone to 
 retain France on the side of England, had been invited to 
 Richmond by Wolsey. As the two prelates were walking 
 in the park, on that hill whence the eye ranges over the fer- 
 tile and undulating fields through which the winding Thames 
 pours its tranquil waters, the unhappy cardinal observed to 
 
 the bishop : " My trouble is the greatest that ever was ! 
 
 I have excited and carried on this matter of the divorce, to 
 dissolve the union between the two houses of Spain and 
 
 * Qui nullam aut certe diminutam hie Romani pontificis auctoritatem. 
 Burnet, Records, p. xxxiii. 
 
 + Dubitare non debes si quidem volueris recordare tua erga nos merita. 
 State Papers, vii. p. 178. 
 
 J A non vieario ad vp-rum vicarium Jesu Christi. Ibid. p. 191.
 
 WOLSEY'S GRIEF. 425 
 
 England, by sowing misunderstanding between them, as if I 
 had no part in it.* You know it was in the interest of 
 France ; I therefore entreat the king your master and her 
 majesty to do everything that may forward the divorce. I 
 shall esteem such a favour more than if they made me pope ; 
 but if they refuse me, my ruin is inevitable." And then 
 giving way to despair, he exclaimed : " Alas ! would that I 
 were going to be buried to-morrow!" 
 
 The wretched man was drinking the bitter cup his perfi- 
 dies had prepared for him. All seemed to conspire against 
 Henry, and Bennet was recalled shortly after. It was said 
 at court and in the city : " Since the pope sacrifices us to the 
 emperor, let us sacrifice the pope." Clement VII., intimi- 
 dated by the threats of Charles V., and tottering upon his 
 throne, madly repelled with his foot the bark of England. 
 Europe was all attention, and began to think that the proud 
 vessel of Albion, cutting the cable that bound her to the 
 pontiffs, would boldly spread her canvass to the winds, and 
 ever after sail the sea alone, wafted onwards* by the breeze 
 that comes from heaven. 
 
 The influence of Rome over Europe is in great measure 
 political. Jt loses a kingdom by a royal quarrel, and might 
 in this same way lose ten. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Discussion between tlie Evangelicals and the Catholics Union of Learn- 
 ing and Life The Laity : Tewkesbury His Appearance before the 
 Bishop's Court He is tortured Two Classes of Opponents A Theo- 
 logical Duel Scripture and the Church Emancipation of the Mind 
 Mission to the Low Countries Tyndale's Embarrassment Tonstall 
 wishes to buy the Books Packington's Stratagem Tyndale departs 
 for Antwerp His Shipwreck Arrival at Hamburg Meets Coverdale. 
 
 OTHER circumstances from day to day rendered the emanci- 
 pation of the church more necessary. If behind these 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorancy, 22d May. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 319. 
 VOL. T. 1 9
 
 426 EVANGELICALS AND CATHOLICS. 
 
 political debates there had not been found a Christian people, 
 resolved never to temporize with error, it is probable that 
 England, after a few years of independence, would have 
 fallen back into the bosom of Rome. The affair of the 
 divorce was not the only one agitating men's minds ; the 
 religious controversies, which for some years filled the con- 
 tinent, were always more animated at Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge. The Evangelicals and the Catholics (not very 
 catholic indeed) warmly discussed the great questions which 
 the progress of events brought before the world. The for- 
 mer maintained that the primitive church of the apostles 
 and the actual church of the papacy were not identical ; the 
 latter affirmed, on the contrary, the identity of popery and 
 apostolic Christianity. Other Romish doctors in later times, 
 finding this position somewhat embarrassing, have asserted 
 that Catholicism existed only in the germ in the apostolic 
 church, and had subsequently developed itself. But a 
 thousand abuses, a thousand errors may creep into a church 
 under cover of this theory. A plant springs from the seed 
 and grows up in accordance with immutable laws ; whilst a 
 doctrine cannot be transformed in the mind of man without 
 falling under the influence of sin. It is true that the dis- 
 ciples of popery have supposed a constant action of the 
 Divine Spirit in the Catholic Church, which excludes every 
 influence of error. To stamp on the development of the 
 church the character of truth, they have stamped on the 
 church itself the character of infallibility ; quod erat demon- 
 strandum. Their reasoning is a mere begging of the ques- 
 tion. To know whether the Romish development is identical 
 with the gospel, we must examine it by Scripture. 
 
 It was not university men alone who occupied themselves 
 with Christian truth. The separation which has been re- 
 marked in other times between the opinions of the people 
 and of the learned, did not now exist. What the doctors 
 taught, the citizens practised ; Oxford and London embraced 
 each other. The theologians knew that learning has need 
 of life, and the citizens believed that life has need of that 
 learning which derives the doctrine from the wells of the 
 Scriptures of God. It was the harmony between these two
 
 . KNOWLEDGE AND LIFE. 427 
 
 elements, the one theological, the other practical, which con- 
 stituted the strength of the English reformation. 
 
 The evangelical life in the capital alarmed the clergy- 
 more than the evangelical doctrine in the colleges. Since 
 Monmouth had escaped, they must sjjike another. Amqng 
 the London merchants was John Tewkesbury, one of the 
 oldest friends of the Scriptures in England. As early as 
 1512 he had become possessor of a manuscript copy of the 
 Bible, and had attentively studied it ; when Tyndale's New 
 Testament appeared, he read it with avidity ; and, finally, 
 The Wicked Mammon had completed the work of his con- 
 version. Being a man of heart and understanding, clever 
 in all he undertook, a ready and fluent speaker, and liking 
 to get to the bottom of everything, Tewkesbury like Mon- 
 mouth became very influential in the city, and one of the 
 most learned in Scripture of any of the evangelicals. These 
 generous Christians, being determined to consecrate to God 
 the good things they had received from him, were the first 
 among that long series of laymen who were destined to be 
 more useful to the truth than many ministers and bishops. 
 They found time to interest themselves about the most 
 trifling details of the kingdom of God ; and in the history of 
 the Reformation in Britain their names should be inscribed 
 beside those of Latimer and Tyndale. 
 
 The activity of these laymen could not escape the cardi- 
 nal's notice. Clement VII. was abandoning England : it 
 was necessary for the English bishops, by crushing the 
 heretics, to show that they would not abandon the popedom. 
 We can understand the zeal of these prelates, and without 
 excusing their persecutions, we are disposed to extenuate 
 their crime. The bishops determined to ruin Tewkesbury. 
 One day in April 1529, as he was busy among his peltries, 
 the officers entered his warehouse, arrested him, and led him 
 away to the bishop of London's chapel, where, besides the 
 ordinary (Tonstall), the bishops of Ely, St Asaph, Bath, and 
 Lincoln, with the abbot of Westminster, were on the bench. 
 The composition of this tribunal indicated the importance of 
 his case, The emancipation of the laity, thought these
 
 42 R . TEWKESBURY BEFORE THE BISHOJ>S. 
 
 judges, is perhaps a more dangerous heresy than justifica- 
 tion by faith. 
 
 "John Tewkesbury," said the bishop of London, " I 
 exhort you to trust less to your own wit and learning, and 
 more unto the doctrine of the holy mother the church." 
 Tewkesbury made answer, that in his judgment he held no 
 other doctrine than that of the church of Christ. Tonstall 
 then broached the principal charge, that of having read the 
 Wicked Mammon, and after quoting several passages, he 
 exclaimed : " Renounce these errors." " I find no fault in 
 the book," replied Tewkesbury. " It has enlightened my 
 conscience and consoled my heart. But it is not my gospel. 
 I have studied the Holy Scriptures these seventeen years, and 
 as a man sees the spots of his face in a glass, so by reading 
 them I have learnt the faults of my soul.* If there is a dis- 
 agreement between you and the New Testament, put yourselves 
 in harmony with it, rather than desire to put that in accord 
 with you." The bishops were surprised that a leather- 
 seller should speak so well, and quote Scripture so happily 
 that they were unable to resist him.-j- Annoyed at being 
 catechised by a layman, the bishops of Bath, St Asaph, and 
 Lincoln thought they could conquer him more easily by the 
 rack than by their arguments. He was taken to the Tower, 
 where they ordered him to be put to the torture. His limbs 
 were crushed, which was contrary to the laws of England, 
 and the violence of the rack tore from him a cry of agony 
 to which the priests replied by a shout of exultation. The 
 inflexible merchant had promised at last to renounce Tyn- 
 dale's Wicked Mammon. Tewkesbury left the Tower 
 " almost a cripple," J and returned to his house to lament 
 the fatal word which the question had extorted from him, 
 and to prepare in the silence of faith to confess in the burn- 
 ing pile the precious name of Christ Jesus. 
 
 We must, however, acknowledge that the "question" was 
 
 not Rome's only argument. The gospel had two classes of 
 
 opponents in the sixteenth century, as in the first ages of the 
 
 church. Some attacked it with the torture, others with their 
 
 Foxe, iv. p. 690. f Ibid. p. 689. $ Ibid.
 
 MOKE'S ATTACK ON TYXDALE. 429 
 
 writings. Sir Thomas More, a few years later, was to have 
 recourse to the first of these arguments ; but for the moment 
 he took up his pen. He had first studied the writings of 
 the Fathers of the church, and of the Reformers, but rather 
 as an advocate than as a theologian ; and then, armed at all 
 points, he rushed into the arena of polemics, and in his at- 
 tacks dealt those " technical convictions and that malevolent 
 subtlety," says one of his greatest admirers,* " from which 
 the honestest men of his profession are not free." Jests and 
 sarcasms had fallen from his pen in his discussion with 
 Tyndale, as in his controversy with Luther. Shortly after 
 Tevvkesbury's affair (in June 1529) there appeared A Dia- 
 logue of Sir Thomas More, Knt., touching the pestilent Sect 
 of Luther and Tyndale, by the one begun in Saxony, and by 
 the other laboured to be brought into England.-^ 
 
 Tyndale soon became informed of More's publication, and 
 a remarkable combat ensued between these two representa- 
 tives of the two doctrines that were destined to divide 
 Christendom Tyndale the champion of Scripture, and More 
 the champion of the church. More having called his book a 
 dialogue, Tyndale adopted this form in his reply,! an ^ l ' ie two 
 combatants valiantly crossed their swords, though wide seas 
 lay between them. This theological duel is not without im- 
 portance in the history of the Reformation. The struggles 
 of diplomacy, of sacerdotalism, and of royalty were not 
 enough ; there must be struggles of doctrine. Rome had set 
 the hierarchy above the faith ; the Reformation was to restore 
 faith to its place above the hierarchy. 
 
 MORE. Christ said not, the Holy Ghost shall write, but 
 shall teach. Whatsoever the church says, it is the word of 
 God, though it be not in Scripture. 
 
 TYNDALE. "What! Christ and the apostles not spoken of 
 Scriptures'. These are written, says St John, that ye 
 
 * Nisard, Homines illustres de la renaissance. Revue des Deux 
 Afondes. 
 
 + The Dialogue consisted of 250 pages, and was printed by John Ras- 
 tell, More's brother-in-law. Tyndale's answer did not appear autil later ; 
 we have thought it our duty to introduce it here. 
 
 f Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue.
 
 430 A THEOLOGICAL 
 
 believe, and through belief have life. (1 John ii. 1 ; Rom. 
 xv. 4 ; Matthew xxii. 29.)* 
 
 MOKE. The apostles have taught by mouth many things 
 they did not write, because they should not come into the 
 hands of the heathen for mocking. 
 
 TYNDALE. I pray you what thing more to be mocked by 
 the heathen could they teach than the resurrection ; and that 
 Christ was God and man, and died between two thieves ? 
 And yet all these things the apostles wrote. And again, 
 purgatory, penance, and satisfaction for sin, and praying to 
 saints, are marvellous agreeable unto the superstition of the 
 heathen people, so that they need not to abstain from writ- 
 ing of them for fear lest the heathen should have mocked 
 them.-}- 
 
 MORE. We must not examine the teaching of the church 
 by Scripture, but understand Scripture by means of what 
 the church says. 
 
 TYNDALE. What ! Does the air give light to the sun, or 
 the sun to the air? Is the church before the gospel, or the 
 gospel before the church ? Is not the father older than the 
 son ? God begat us with his own ivill, with the word of truth, 
 says St James (i. 18.) If he who begetteth is before him 
 who is begotten, the word is before the church, or, to speak 
 more correctly, before the congregation. 
 
 MOUE. Why do you say congregation and not church ? 
 
 TYNDALE. Because by that word church, you understand 
 nothing but a multitude of shorn and oiled, which we now 
 call the spirituality or clergy ; while the word of right is 
 common unto all the congregation of them that believe in 
 Christ.f 
 
 MORE. The church is the pope and his sect or followers. 
 
 TYNDALE. The pope teacheth us to trust in holy works 
 for salvation, as penance, saints' merits, and friars' coats. 
 Now, he that hath no faith to be saved through Christ, is 
 not of Christ's church. || 
 
 MORE. The Romish church from which the Lutherans 
 came out, was before them, and therefore is the right one. 
 
 * Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue, p. 101. 
 
 r Ibid. p. 28, 29, J Ibid. p. 12, 13. Ibid. p. 40. 11 Ibid. p. 39.
 
 APOSTLES AND REFORMERS. 431 
 
 TYNDALE. In like manner you may say, the church of the 
 Pharisees, whence Christ and his apostles came out, was 
 before them, and was therefore the right church, and conse- 
 quently Christ and his disciples are heretics. 
 
 MORE. No : the apostles came out from the church of the 
 Pharisees because they found not Christ there; but your 
 priests in Germany and elsewhere have come out of our 
 church because they wanted wives. 
 
 TYXDALE. Wrong these priests were at first at- 
 tached to what you call heresies, and then they took wives ; 
 but yours were first attached to the holy doctrine of the pope, 
 and then they took harlots.* 
 
 MORE. Luther's books be open, if ye will not believe us. 
 
 TYNDALE. Nay, ye have shut them up, and have even 
 burnt them.f 
 
 MORE. I marvel that you deny purgatory, Sir William, 
 except it be a plain point with you to go straight to hell.J 
 
 TYXDALE. I know no other purging but faith in the cross 
 of Christ ; while you, for a groat or a sixpence, buy some 
 secret pills [indulgences] which you take to purge yourselves 
 of your sins. 
 
 MORE. Faith, then, is your purgatory, you say ; there is 
 no need, therefore, of works a most immoral doctrine ! 
 
 TYNDALE. It is faith alone that saves us, but not a bare 
 faith. When a horse beareth a saddle and a man thereon, 
 we may well say that the horse only and alone beareth the 
 saddle, but we do not mean the saddle empty, and no man 
 thereon. || 
 
 In this manner did the catholic and the evangelical carry 
 on the discussion. According to Tyndale, what constitutes 
 the true church is the work of the Holy Ghost within ; ac- 
 cording to More, the constitution of the papacy without. 
 The spiritual character of the gospel is thus put in opposi- 
 tion to the formalist character of the Roman church. The 
 Reformation restored to our belief the solid foundation of the 
 word of God ; for the sand it substituted the rock. In the 
 discussion to which we have just been listening, the advan- 
 
 * Answer to Sir Thomas Mare's Dialogue, p. 104. 
 
 t Ibid. p. 189. J Ibid. p. 214. Ibid. || Ibid. p. 197
 
 432 TREATY AQAJSST LUTHERAN BOOKS. 
 
 tage remained not with the catholic. Erasmus, a friend of 
 More s, embarrassed by the course the latter was taking, 
 wrote to Tonstall : " I cannot heartily congratulate More."* 
 
 Henry interrupted the celebrated knight in these contests 
 to send him to Cambray, where a peace was negotiating be- 
 tween France and the empire. Wolsey would have been 
 pleased to go himself; but his enemies suggested to the king, 
 " that it was only that he might not expedite the matter of 
 the divorce." Henry, therefore, despatched More, Knight, 
 and Tonstall ; but Wolsey had created so many delays that 
 they did not arrive until after the conclusion of the Ladies' 
 Peace (August 1529). The king's vexation was extreme. 
 Du Bellay had in vain helped him to spend a good prepara- 
 tory July to make him swallow the dose.-\- Henry was angry 
 with Wolsey, Wolsey threw the blame on the ambassador, 
 and the ambassador defended himself, he tells us, "with 
 tooth and nail." J 
 
 By way of compensation, the English envoys concluded 
 with the emperor a 'treaty prohibiting on both sides the 
 printing and sale of " any Lutheran books." Some of 
 them could have wished for a good persecution, for a few 
 burning piles, it may be. A singular opportunity occurred. 
 In the spring of 1529, Tyndale and Fryth had left Mar- 
 burg for Antwerp, and were thus in the vicinity of the Eng- 
 lish envoys. What West had been unable to effect, it was 
 thought the two most intelligent men in Britain could not 
 fail to accomplish. " Tyndale must be captured," said More 
 and Tonstall. y You do not know what sort of a country 
 you are in," replied Hackett. " Will you believe that on the 
 7th of April, Harman arrested me at Antwerp for damages, 
 caused by his imprisonment ? If you can lay anything to 
 my charge as a private individual, I said to the officer, I am 
 ready to answer for myself; but if you arrest me as ambassa- 
 dor, I know no judge but the emperor. Upon which ths 
 procurator had the audacity to reply, that I was arrested 
 
 * Thomso More non admodum gratulor. Erasm. Epp. p. 1478. 
 f- Juillet pre"paratoire pour lui faire avaler la me'decine. 
 J Du bee et des ongles. Du Bellay to Mortmorenoy. Le Grand, ill 
 p. 328. Herbert, p. 316.
 
 TYNDALE'S DANGER. 433 
 
 as ambassador ; and the lords of Antwerp only set me at 
 liberty on condition that I should appear again at the first 
 summons.* These merchants are so proud of their fran- 
 chises, that they would resist even Charles himself." This 
 anecdote was not at all calculated to encourage More ; and 
 not caring about a pursuit, which promised to be of little 
 use, he returned to England. But the bishop of London, 
 who was left behind, persisted in the project, and repaired 
 to Antwerp to put it in execution. 
 
 Tyndale was at that time greatly embarrassed ; consid- 
 erable debts, incurred with his printers, compelled him to 
 suspend his labours. Nor was this all: the prelate who 
 had spurned him so harshly in London, had just arrived in 
 the very city where he lay concealed* What would be- 
 come of him? A merchant, named Augustin Packing- 
 ton, a clever man, but somewhat inclined to dissimulation, 
 happening to be at Antwerp on business, hastened to pay 
 his respects to the bishop. The latter observed, in the 
 course of conversation : " I should like to get hold of the 
 books with which England is poisoned." " I can perhaps 
 serve you in that matter," replied the merchant. " I know 
 the Flemings, who have bought Tyndale's books ; so that 
 if your lordship will be pleased to pay for them, I will make 
 sure of them all." " Oh, oh!" thought the bishop, "Now, 
 as the proverb says, I shall have God by the toe.-}- Gentle 
 Master Packington," he added in a flattering tone, " I will 
 pay for them whatsoever they cost you. I intend to burn 
 them at St Paul's cross." The bishop, having his hand 
 already on Tyndale's Testaments, fancied himself on the 
 point of seizing Tyndale himself. 
 
 Packington, being one of those men who love to concil- 
 iate all parties, ran off to Tyndale, with whom he was inti- 
 mate, and said : " William, I know you are a poor man, 
 and have a heap of New Testaments and books by you, for 
 which you have beggared yourself; and I have now found 
 a merchant who will buy them all, and with ready money 
 
 * Hackett to Wolsoy, Brussels, 13th April, 1529. Bible Annala, voL i. 
 p. 199. 
 f Foie, ir. p. 670. 
 
 *
 
 434 TYNDALE SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 too."" Who is the merchant ?" said Tyndale. " The bishop 
 
 of London." "Tonstall? If he buys my books, it can 
 
 only be to burn them." " No doubt," answered Packing- 
 ton ; " but what will he gain by it ? The whole world will 
 cry out against the priest who burns God's word, and the 
 eyes of many will be opened. Come, make up your mind, 
 William ; the bishop shall have the books, you the money, 
 
 and I the thanks." Tyndale resisted the proposal ; Pack- 
 
 ington became more pressing. "The question comes to 
 this," he said ; " shall the bishop pay for the books or shall 
 
 he not? for, make up your mind he will have them." 
 
 " I consent," said the reformer at last ; " I shall pay my 
 debts, and bring out a new and more correct edition of the 
 Testament." The -bargain was made. 
 
 Erelong the danger thickened around Tyndale. Placards, 
 posted at Antwerp and throughout the province, announced 
 that the emperor, in conformity with the treaty of Cambray, 
 was about to proceed against the reformers and their writ- 
 ings. Not an officer of justice appeared in the street but 
 Tyndale's friends trembled for his liberty. Under such cir- 
 cumstances, how <;ould he print his translation of Genesis 
 and Deuteronomy ? He made up his mind about the end 
 of August to go to Hamburg, and took his passage in a ves- 
 sel loading for that port. Embarking with his books, his 
 manuscripts, and the rest of his money, he glided down the 
 Scheldt, and soon found himself afloat on the German Ocean. 
 
 But one danger followed close upon another. He had 
 scarcely passed the mouth of the Meuse when a tempest 
 burst upon him, and his ship, like that of old which bore St 
 Paul, was almost swallowed up by the waves. " Satan, 
 envying the happy course and success of the gospel," says a 
 chronicler, " set to his might how to hinder the blessed la- 
 bours of this man."* The seamen toiled, Tyndale prayed, 
 all hope was lost. The reformer alone was full of courage, 
 not doubting that God would preserve him for the accom- 
 plishment of his work. All the exertions of the crew proved 
 useless ; the vessel was dashed on the coast, and the passen- 
 gers escaped with their lives. Tyndale gazed with sorrow 
 * Foxe, v. p. 120.
 
 TYNDALE AND COVERDALE AT HAMBURG. 435 
 
 upon that ocean which had swallowed up his beloved books 
 and precious manuscripts, and deprived him of his resources.* 
 "What labours, Avhat perils ! banishment, poverty, thirst, in- 
 sults, watchings, persecution, imprisonment, the stake! 
 
 Like Paul, he was in perils by his own countrymen, in perils 
 among strange people, in perils in the city, in perils in the 
 sea. Recovering his spirits, however, he went on board an- 
 other ship, entered the Elbe, and at last reached Hamburg. 
 
 Great joy was in store for him in, that city. Coverdale, 
 Foxe informs us, was waiting there to confer with him and 
 to help him in his labours.-J- It has been supposed that 
 Coverdale went to Hamburg to invite Tyndale, in Crom- 
 well's name, to return to England ;J but it is merely a con- 
 jecture, and requires confirmation. As early as 1527, Co- 
 verdale had made known to Cromwell his desire to translate 
 the Scriptures. It was natural that, meeting with difficul- 
 ties in this undertaking, he should desire to converse with 
 Tyndale. The two friends lodged with a^ pious woman 
 named Margaret van Emmersen, and spent some time to- 
 gether in the autumn of 1529, undisturbed by the sweating 
 sickness which was making such cruel havoc all around 
 them. Coverdale returned to England shortly after; the 
 two reformers had, no doubt, discovered that it was better 
 for each of them to translate the Scriptures separately. 
 
 Before Coverdale's return, Tonstall had gone back to 
 London, exulting at carrying with him the books he had 
 bought so dearly. But when he reached the capital, he 
 thought he had better defer the meditated auto dafe until 
 some striking event should give it increased importance. 
 And besides, just at that moment, very different matters were 
 engaging public attention on the banks of the Thames, and 
 the liveliest emotions agitated every mind. 
 
 Lost both his money, his copies Foxe, v. p. 120. 
 
 f Coverdale tarried for him and helped him. Ibid. 
 
 J Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 240. 
 
 This is the date assigned in Coverdale's Remains (Park. Soc.), p. 490.
 
 436 THE ROYAL SESSION. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Royal Session Sitting of the 18th June ; the Queen's Protest- 
 Sitting of the 21st June Summons to the King and Queen Catherine's 
 Speech She retires Impression on the Audience The King's Decla- 
 ration Wolsey's Protest Quarrel between the Bishops New Sitting 
 Apparition to the Maid of Kent Wolsey chafed by Henry Tho 
 Earl of Wiltshire at Wolsey 'a Private Conference between Catherine 
 and the two Legates. 
 
 AFFAIRS had changed in England during the absence of 
 Tonstall and More; and even before their departure, events 
 of a certain importance had occurred. Henry, finding there 
 was nothing more to hope from Rome, had turned to Wolsey 
 and Campeggio. The Roman nuncio had succeeded in de- 
 ceiving the king. " Campeggio is very different from what 
 he is reported," said Henry to his friends; " he is not for the 
 emperor as I was told; I have said somewhat to him which 
 has changed his mind."* No doubt he had made some 
 brilliant promise. 
 
 Henry therefore, imagining himself sure of his two legates, 
 desired them to proceed with the matter of the divorce with- 
 out delay. There was no time to lose, for the king was in- 
 formed that the pope was on the point of recalling the 
 commission given to the two cardinals; and as early as the 
 19th of March, Salviati, the pope's uncle and secretary of 
 state, wrote to Campeggio about it.-f Henry's process, once 
 in the court of the pontifical chancery, it would have been 
 long before it got out again. Accordingly, on the 31st of 
 May, the king, by a warrant under the great seal, gave the 
 legates leave to execute their commission, "without any 
 regard to his own person, and having the fear of God only 
 before their eyes."|: The legates themselves had suggested 
 this formula to the king. 
 
 * Bumet, Records, p. xxxv. 
 
 + E quanto altro non si possa, forse si pensera ad avvocare la causa a 
 66. Lettere di XIII. uomini illustri, 19th March 1529. 
 $ Ut eolum Deuua prae oculis habentis, Rymer, Acta ad annum.
 
 THE COMMISSION OPENED THE QUEEN PROTESTS. 437 
 
 On the same day the commission was opened; but to be- 
 gin the process was not to end it. Every letter which the 
 nuncio received forbade him to do so in the most positive 
 manner. " Advance slowly and never finish," were Cle- 
 ment's instructions.* The trial was to be a farce, played by 
 a pope and two cardinals. 
 
 The ecclesiastical court met in the great hall of the Black- 
 friars, commonly called the "parliament chamber." The 
 two legates having successively taken the commission in 
 their hands, devoutly declared that they were resolved to 
 execute it (they should have said, to elude k), made the 
 required oaths, and ordered a peremptory citation of the 
 king and queen to appear on the 18th of June at nine in the 
 morning. . Campeggio was eager to proceed slowly; the 
 session was adjourned for three weeks. The citation caused 
 4 a great stir among the people. "What!" said they, "a 
 king and a queen constrained to appear, in their own realm, 
 before their own subjects." The papacy set an example 
 which was to be strictly followed in after-years both in 
 England and in France. 
 
 On the 18th of June, Catherine appeared before the com- 
 mission in the parliament chamber, and stepping forward 
 with dignity, said with a firm voice: "I protest against 
 the legates as incompetent judges, and appeal to the pope."-{- 
 This proceeding of the queen's, her pride and firmness, 
 troubled her enemies, and in their vexation they grew exas- 
 perated against her. "Instead of praying God to bring 
 this matter to a good conclusion," they said, " she endeav- 
 ours to turn away the people's affections from the king. 
 Instead of showing Henry the love of a youthful wife, she 
 keeps away from him night and day. There is even cause 
 to fear," they added, " that she is in concert with certain 
 individuals who have formed the horrible design of killing 
 the king and the cardinal." J But persons of generous 
 
 * Sua bcatitudine ricorda, che il procedere sia lento ed in modo alcuno 
 non si venghi al giudicio. To Card. Campeggio, 29th May 1529. Lett, 
 di Principi. 
 
 f- So in illos tanquam judices suos uon assentire, rvd papam provocavit, 
 Sanders, p. 32. 
 
 J Burnet's Kef. i. p. 54.
 
 438 A ROYAL SITTING. 
 
 heart, seeing only a queen, a wife, and a mother, attacked 
 in her dearest affections, showed themselves full of sympathy 
 for her. 
 
 On the 21st of June, the day to which the court adjourned, 
 the two legates entered the parliament chamber with all the 
 pomp belonging to their station, and took their seats on a 
 raised platform. Near them sat the bishops of Bath and 
 Lincoln, the abbot of Westminster, and Doctor Taylor, 
 master of the Rolls, whom they had added to their commis- 
 sion. Below them were the secretaries, among whom the 
 skilful Stephen Gardiner held the chief rank. On the right 
 hung a cloth of estate where the king sat surrounded by his 
 officers; and on the left, a little lower, was the queen, at- 
 tended by her ladies. The archbishop of Canterbury and 
 the bishops were seated between the legates and Henry 
 VIIL, and on both sides of the throne were stationed the 
 counsellors of the king and queen. The latter were Fisher, 
 bishop of Rochester, Standish of St Asaph, West of Ely, and 
 Doctor Ridley. The people, when they saw this procession 
 ilefile before them, were far from being dazzled by the pomp. 
 " Less show and more virtue," they said, " would better 
 become such judges." 
 
 The pontifical commission having been read, the legates 
 declared that they would judge without fear or favour, and 
 would admit of neither recusation nor appeal.* Then the 
 usher cried : " Henry, king of England, come into court." 
 The king, cited in his own capital to accept as judges two 
 priests, his subjects, repressed the throbbing of his proud 
 heart, and replied, in the hope that this strange trial would 
 have a favourable issue : " Here I am." The usher con- 
 tinued: "Catherine, queen of England, come into court." 
 The queen handed the cardinals a paper in which she pro- 
 tested against the legality of the court, as the judges were 
 the subjects of her opponent,-]- and appealed to Rome. The 
 cardinals declared they could not admit this paper, and con- 
 
 * The king's letter to his ambassadors at Rome, 23d June. Burnet's 
 Ref., Records, p. liv. 
 
 t Personas judicum non solum regi devinctas ver am et subjccUw esse. 
 Sanders, p. 35.
 
 THE QUEEJTS APPEAL TO THE KING. 439 
 
 sequeutly Catherine was again called into court. At this 
 second summons she rose, devoutly crossed herself, made 
 the circuit of the court to where the king sat, bending with 
 dignity as she passed in front of the legates, and fell on her 
 knees before her husband. Every eye was turned upon her. 
 Then speaking in English, but with a Spanish accent, which 
 by recalling the distance she was from her native home, 
 pleaded eloquently for her, Catherine said with tears in her 
 eyes, and in a tone at once dignified and impassioned : 
 
 " SIR, I beseech you, for all the love that hath been be- 
 tween us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and 
 right; take some pity on me, for I am a poor woman and a 
 stranger, born out of your dominions. I have here no 
 assured friend, much less impartial counsel, and I flee to you 
 as to the head of justice within this realm. Alas I Sir, 
 wherein have I offended you, or what occasion given you of 
 displeasure, that you should wish to put me from you ? I 
 take God and all the world to witness, that I have been to 
 you a true, humble, and obedient wife, ever conformable to 
 your will and pleasure. Never have I said or done aught 
 contrary thereto, being always well pleased and content with 
 all things wherein you had delight; neither did I ever grudge 
 in word or countenance, or show a visage or spark of dis- 
 content. I loved all those whom you loved, only for your 
 sake. This twenty years I have been your true wife, and 
 by me ye have had divers children, although it hath pleased 
 God to call them out of this world, which yet hath been no 
 default in me." 
 
 The judges, and even the most servile of the courtiers, 
 were touched when they heard these simple and eloquent 
 words, and the queen's sorrow moved them almost to tears. 
 Catherine continued : 
 
 " SIR, When ye married me at the first, I take God to be 
 my judge I was a true maid ; and whether it be true or not, 
 
 I put it to your conscience If there be any just cause 
 
 that ye can allege against me, 1 am contented to depart 
 from your kingdom, albeit to my great shame and dishon- 
 our ; and if there be none, then let me remain in my former 
 estate until death. Who united us? ThO king, your
 
 440 THE QUEEN WITHDRAWS. 
 
 father, who was called the second Solomon;. and my father, 
 Ferdinand, who was esteemed one of the wisest princes that, 
 for many years before, had reigned in Spain. It is not, 
 therefore, to be doubted that the marriage between you and 
 me is good and lawful. Who are my judges? Is not one 
 
 the man that has put sorrow between you and me?* a 
 
 judge whom I refuse and abhor! Who are the counsellors 
 assigned me? Are they not officers of the crown, wl.o have 
 
 made oath to you in your own council? Sir, I conjure 
 
 you not to call me before a court so formed. Yet, if you 
 
 refuse me this favour your will be done I shall be 
 
 silent, I shall repress the emotions of my soul, and remit my 
 just cause to the hands of God." 
 
 Thus spoke Catherine through her tears;-}- humbly bend- 
 ing, she seemed to embrace Henry's knees. She rose and 
 made a low obeisance to the king. It was expected that she 
 would return to her seat ; but leaning on the arm of Griffiths, 
 her receiver-general, she moved towards the door. The 
 king, observing this, ordered her to be recalled ; and the 
 usher following her, thrice cried aloud : " Catherine, queen 
 of England, come into court." "Madam," said Griffiths, 
 " you are called back." " I hear it well enough," replied the 
 queen, " but go you on, for this is no court wherein I can 
 have justice : let us proceed." Catherine returned to the 
 palace, and never again appeared before the court either by 
 proxy or in person. | 
 
 She had gained her cause in the minds of many. The 
 dignity of her person, the quaint simplicity of her speech, the 
 propriety with which, relying .upon her innocence, she had 
 spoken of the most delicate subjects, and the tears which be- 
 trayed her emotion, had created a deep impression. But 
 "the sting in her speech," as an historian says, was her 
 appeal to the king's conscience, and to the judgment of Al- 
 mighty God, on the capital point in the cause. " How could 
 
 * Q,ni dissensionem inter ipsam et virum suum. Polyd. Virg. p. 688. 
 f Haec ilia flebiliter dicente. Ibid. p. 686, and Cavendish. 
 J Burnet, Records, p. 36. In this letter the king says : Both we aud 
 the queen appealed in person. 
 Fuller, p. 173.
 
 EMBARRASSMENT OP HENRY AND WOLSEY. 441 
 
 a person so modest, so sober in her language," said many, 
 "dare utter such. a falsehood? Besides, the king did not 
 contradict her." 
 
 Henry was greatly embarrassed: Catherine's words had 
 moved him. Catherine's defence, one of the most touching 
 in history, had gained over the accuser himself. He there- 
 fore felt constrained to render this testimony to the accused: 
 " Since the queen has withdrawn, I will, in her absence, 
 declare to you all present, that she has. been to me as true 
 and obedient a wife as I could desire. She has all the vir- 
 tues and good qualities that belong to a woman. She is as 
 noble in character as in birth." 
 
 But "Wolsey was the most embarrassed of all. When the 
 queen had % said, without naming him, that one of her judges 
 was the cause of all her misfortunes, looks of indignation 
 were turned upon him.* He was unwilling to remain under 
 the weight of this accusation. AS soon as the king had 
 finished speaking, he said : " Sir, I humbly beg your ma- 
 jesty to declare before this audience, whether I was the first 
 or chief mover in this business." Wolsey had formerly 
 boasted to Du Bellay, " that the first project of the divorce 
 was set on foot by himself, to create a perpetual separation 
 between the houses of England and Spain;-}- but now it 
 suited him to affirm the contrary. The king, who needed 
 his services, took care not to contradict him. " My lord 
 cardinal," he said, " I can well excuse you herein. Marry, 
 so far from being a mover, ye have been rather against me 
 in attempting thereof. It was the bishop of Tarbes, the 
 French ambassador, who begot the first scruples in my con- 
 science by his doubts on the legitimacy of the Princess 
 Mary." This was not correct. The bishop of Tarbes was 
 not in England before the year 1527, and we have proofs 
 that the king was meditating a divorce in 1526. | "From 
 
 * Vidisses Wolseum infestis fere omnium oculis conspici. Polyd. Virg. 
 p. 688. 
 
 f Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves,p. 186, 319. 
 
 J See Pace's letter to Henry in 1526. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 1. Pace 
 there shows that it is incorrect to say : Deutcronomium abrogate Leviti- 
 ctim (Deuteronomy abrogates Leviticus), so far as concerns the prohibi- 
 tion to take the wife of a deceased brother. 
 
 T2
 
 442 HENRY JUSTIFIES HIMSELF. 
 
 that hour," he continued, " I was much troubled, and thought 
 myself in danger of God's heavy displeasure, who, wishing 
 to punish my incestuous marriage, had taken away all the 
 sons my wife had borne me. I laid my grief before you, my 
 lord of Lincoln, then being my ghostly father ; and by your 
 advice I asked counsel of the rest of the bishops, and you all 
 informed me under your seals, that you shared in my scru- 
 ples." " That is the truth," said the archbishop of Canter- 
 bury. " No, Sir, not so, under correction," quoth the bishop 
 of Rochester, " you have not my hand and seal." " No ? " 
 exclaimed the king, showing him a paper which he held in 
 his hand; "is not this your hand and seal?" "No, for- 
 sooth," he answered. Henry's surprise increased, and turn- 
 ing with a frown to the archbishop of Canterbury, he asked 
 him: " What say you to that?" " Sir, it is his hand and 
 seal," replied Warham. " It is not," rejoined Rochester ; 
 " I told you I would never consent to any such act." " You 
 say the truth," responded the archbishop, " but you were 
 fully resolved at the last, that I should subscribe your name 
 and put your seal." " All which is untrue," added Roches- 
 ter, in a passion. The bishop was not very respectful to his 
 primate. " Well, well," said the king, wishing to end the 
 dispute, " we will not stand in argument with you ; for you 
 are but one man."* The court adjourned. The day had 
 been better for Catherine than for the prelates. 
 
 In proportion as the first sitting had been pathetic, so the 
 discussions in the second between the lawyers and bishops 
 were calculated to revolt a delicate mind. The advocates of 
 the two parties vigorously debated pro and con respecting 
 the consummation of Arthur's marriage with Catherine. 
 "It is a very difficult question," said one of the counsel; 
 none can know the truth." " But I know it," replied the 
 bishop of Rochester. "What do you mean?" asked Wol- 
 sey. " My lord," he answered, " he was the very Truth who 
 said : What God hath joined together, let not man put asun- 
 der : that is enough for me." " So everybody thinks," re- 
 joined Wolsey ; " but whether it was God who united Henry 
 of England and Catherine of Aragon, hoc restat probandum, 
 * Cavendish's Wolsciy. p. 223.
 
 MESSAGE OP THE MAID OF KENT. 443 
 
 thai remains to be proved. The king's council decides that 
 the marriage is unlawful, and consequently it was not God 
 icho joined them together" The two bishops then exchanged 
 a few words less edifying than those of the preceding day. 
 Several of the hearers expressed a sentiment of disgust. 
 " It is a disgrace to the court," said Doctor Ridley with no 
 little indignation, "that you dare discuss. questions which 
 fill every right-minded man with horror." This sharp repri- 
 mand put an end to the debate. 
 
 The agitations of the court spread to the convents; priests, 
 monks, and nuns were everywhere in commotion. It was 
 not long before astonishing revelations began to circulate 
 through the cloisters. There was no talk then of an old 
 portrait of the Virgin that winked its eyes ; but other mira- 
 cles were invented. " An angel," it was rumoured, " has 
 appeared to Elizabeth Barton, the maid of Kent, as he did 
 formerly to Adam, to the patriarchs, and to Jesus Christ." 
 At the epochs of the creation and of the redemption, and in 
 the times which lead from one to the other, miracles are 
 natural ; God then appeared, and his coming without any 
 signs of power, would be as surprising as the rising of the 
 sun unattended by its rays of light. But the Romish Church 
 does not stop there ; it claims in every age, for its saints, the 
 privilege of miraculous powers, and the miracles-are multi- 
 plied in proportion to the ignorance of the people. And ac- 
 cordingly the angel said to the epileptic maid of Kent : " Go 
 to the unfaithful king of England, and tell him there are 
 three things he desires, which I forbid now and for ever. 
 The first is the power of the pope ; the second the new dbc- 
 trine ; the third Anne Boleyn. If he takes her for his wife, 
 God will visit him." The vision-seeing maid delivered the 
 message to the king,* whom nothing could now stop. 
 
 On the contrary, he began to find out that Wolsey pro- 
 ceeded too slowly, and the idea sometimes crossed his mind 
 that he was betrayed by this minister. One fine summer's 
 morning, Henry as soon as he rose summoned the cardinal 
 to him at Bridewell. Wolsey hastened thither, and remained 
 
 * She showed this unto the king. Letter to Cromwell in Strypc, vol.i. 
 0.272.
 
 444 THE LEGATES VISIT THE QUEEN. 
 
 closeted with the king from eleven till twelve. The latter 
 gave way to all the fury of his passion and the violence of 
 his despotism. " We must finish this matter promptly," he 
 said, " we must positively." "Wolsey retired very uneasy, 
 and returned by the Thames to Westminster. The sun 
 darted his bright rays on the water. The bishop of Carlisle, 
 who sat by the cardinal's side, remarked, as he wiped his 
 forehead : " A very warm day, my lord." " Yes," replied 
 the unhappy Wolsey, " if you had been chafed for an hour 
 as I have been, you would say it was a hot day." When he 
 reached his palace, the cardinal lay down on his bed to seek 
 repose ; he was not quiet long. 
 
 Catherine had grown in Henry's eyes, as well as in those 
 of the nation. The king shrank from a judgment; he even 
 began to doubt of his success. He wished that the queen 
 would consent to a separation. This idea occurred to his 
 mind after Wolsey's departure, and the cardinal had hardly 
 closed his eyes before the earl of Wiltshire (Anne Boleyn's 
 father) was announced to him with a message from the king. 
 " It is his majesty's pleasure," said Wiltshire, " that you 
 represent to the queen the shame that will accrue to her 
 from a judicial condemnation, and persuade her to confide in 
 his wisdom." Wolsey, commissioned to execute a task he 
 knew to be" impossible, exclaimed : " Why do you put such 
 fancies in the king's head?" and then he spoke so reproach- 
 fully that Wiltshire, with tears in his eyes, fell on his knees 
 beside the cardinal's bed.* Boleyn, desirous of seeing his 
 daughter queen of England, feared perhaps that he had taken 
 a wrong course. " It is well," said the cardinal, recollecting 
 that the message came from Henry VIII., " I am ready to 
 do every thing to please his majesty." He rose, went to 
 Bath Place to fetch Campeggio, and together they waited on 
 the queen. 
 
 The tAvo legates found Catherine quietly at work with her 
 maids of honour. Wolsey addressed the queen in Latin? 
 " Nay, my lord," she said, " speak to me in English ; I wish 
 all the world could hear you."-" We desire, madam, to 
 communicate to you alone our counsel and opinion." " My 
 Cavendish, p. 226.
 
 THE LEGATES VISIT THE QUEEN. 445 
 
 lord," said the queen, " you are come to speak of things 
 beyond my capacity ;" and then, with noble simplicity, show- 
 ing a skein of red silk hanging about her neck, she continued : 
 " These are my occupations, and all that I am capable of. 
 I am a poor woman, without friends in this foreign country, 
 and lacking wit to answer persons of wisdom as ye be ; and 
 yet, my lords, to please you, let us go to my withdrawing 
 room." 
 
 At these words the queen rose, and Wolsey gave her his 
 hand. Catherine earnestly maintained her rights as a wo- 
 man and a queen. " We who were in the outer chamber," 
 says Cavendish, " from time to time could hear the queen 
 speaking very loud, but could not understand what she said." 
 Catherine, instead of justifying herself, boldly accused her 
 judge. " I know, Sir Cardinal," she said with noble candour, 
 " I know who has given the king the advice he is following: 
 it is you. I have not ministered to your pride I have 
 blamed your conduct I have complained of your tyranny, 
 
 and my nephew the emperor has not made you pope 
 
 Hence all my misfortunes. To revenge yourself you have 
 kindled a war in Europe, and have stirred up against me 
 
 this most wicked matter. God will be my judge and 
 
 yours ! " Wolsey would have replied, but Catherine haughtily 
 refused to hear him, and while treating Campeggio with 
 great civility, declared that she would not acknowledge either 
 of them as her judge. The cardinals withdrew, Wolsey full 
 of vexation, and Campeggio beaming with joy, for the busi- 
 ness was getting more complicated. Every hope of accom- 
 modation was lost: nothing temained now but to proceed 
 judicially.
 
 446 THE TRIAL RESUMED. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Tie Trial resumed Catherine summoned Twelve Articles The Wit- 
 nesses' Evidence Arthur and Catherine really married Cam peggio 
 opposes the Argument of Divine Right Other Arguments The Legates 
 required to deliver Judgment Their Tergiversations Change in Men's 
 Minds Final Session General Expectation Adjournment during 
 Harvest Campeggio excuses this Impertinence The King's Indigna- 
 tionSuffolk's Violence Wolsey's Reply He is ruined General Ac- 
 cusations The Cardinal turns to an Episcopal Life. 
 
 THE trial was resumed. The bishop of Bath and "Wells 
 waited upon the queen at Greenwich, and peremptorily sum- 
 moned her to appear in the parliament-chamber.* On thfi 
 day appointed Catherine limited herself to sending an ap- 
 peal to the pope. She was declared contumacious, and 
 the legates proceeded with the cause. 
 
 Twelve articles were prepared, which were to serve for the 
 examination of the witnesses, and the summary of which 
 was, that the marriage of Henry with Catherine, being for- 
 bidden both by the law of God and of the church, was null 
 and void.-}- 
 
 The hearing of the witnesses began, and Dr Taylor, arch- 
 deacon of Buckingham, conducted the examination. Their 
 evidence, which would now be taken only with closed doors, 
 may be found in Lord Herbert of Cherbury's History of 
 Henry VIII. The duke of Norfolk, high-treasurer of Eng- 
 land, the duke of Suffolk, Maurice St John, gentleman- 
 carver to Prince Arthur, the viscount Fitzwalter and An- 
 thony Willoughby, his cup-bearers, testified to their being 
 present on the morrow of the wedding at the breakfast of 
 the prince, then in sound health, and reported the conversa- 
 tion that took place.j: The old duchess of Norfolk, the carl 
 
 * In quadam superior! camera: the queen's dinmg-chamber, nuncupata, 
 26 die mensis junii. Rymor, Acta, p. 119. 
 
 f Divino, ecclcsiastieo jure nullo omnino et invalidum. Herbert 
 
 p. 2G3. 
 
 4: Quod Arthurus mano postridie potum flagitaret, idque ut, aiebant 
 quoniam diceret se ilia nocte in calida Hispani^rum regione peregrinatum 
 fuisso. Sanders, p. 43.
 
 ARGUMENTS OF TUB KIKG'S COUNSEL. 447 
 
 of Shrewsbury, and the marquis of Dorset, confirmed these 
 declarations, which proved that Arthur and Catherine were 
 really married. It was also called to mind that, at the time 
 of Arthur's death, Henry was not permitted to take the title 
 of prince of Wales, because Catherine hoped to give an heir 
 to the crown of England.* 
 
 " If Arthur and Catherine were really married," said the 
 king's counsellors after these extraordinary depositions, " the 
 marriage of this princess with Henry, Arthur's brother, was 
 forbidden by the divine law, by an express command of God 
 contained in Leviticus, and no dispensation could permit 
 what God had forbidden." Campeggio would never concede 
 this argument, which limited the right of the popes ; it was 
 necessary therefore to abandon the divine right (which was 
 in reality to lose the cause), and to seek in the bull of Julius 
 II. and in his famous brief, for flaws that would invalidate 
 them both;-)- and this the king's counsel did, although they 
 did not conceal the weakness of their position. " The motive 
 alleged in the dispensation," they said, " is the necessity of 
 preserving a cordial relation between Spain and England ; 
 now, there was nothing that threatened their harmony. 
 Moreover, it is said in this document that the pope grants it 
 at the prayer of Henry, prince of Wales. Now as this prince 
 was only thirteen years old, he was not of age to make such 
 a request. As for the brief, it is found neither in England 
 nor in Rome ; we cannot therefore admit its authenticity." 
 It was not difficult for Catherine's friends to invalidate these 
 objections. " Besides," they added, " a union that has lasted 
 twenty years sufficiently establishes its own lawfulness. 
 And will you declare the Princess Mary illegitimate, to the 
 great injury of this realm?" 
 
 The king's advocates then changed their course. Was 
 not the Roman legate provided with a decretal pronouncing 
 the divorce, in case it should be proved that Arthur's mar- 
 riage had been really consummated? Now, this fact had been 
 proved by the depositions. " This is the moment for de- 
 livering judgment," said Henry and his counsellors to Cam- 
 peggio. " Publish the pope's decretal." But the pope feared 
 
 * Fexe, v. p. 51. f Herbert Rives them at length, p. 264-267.
 
 448 DIFFERENT OPINIONS. 
 
 the sword of Charles V., then hanging over his head ; and 
 accordingly, .whenever the king advanced one step, the Ro- 
 mish prelate took several in an opposite direction. " I will 
 deliver judgment in five days," said lie ; and when the five 
 days were expired, he^bound himself to deliver it in six. 
 " Restore peace to my troubled conscience," exclaimed Hanry. 
 The legate replied in courtly phrase ; he had gained a few 
 days' delay, and that was all he desired. 
 
 Such conduct on the part of the Roman legate produced 
 an unfavourable effect in England, and a change took place 
 in the public mind. The first movement had been for 
 Catherine; the second was for Henry. Clement's endless 
 delays and Campeggio's stratagems exasperated the nation. 
 The king's argument was simple and popular : " The pope 
 cannot dispense with the laws of God ;" while the queen, by 
 appealing to the authority of the Roman pontiff, displeased 
 both high and low. " No precedent," said the lawyers, " can 
 justify the king's marriage with his brother's widow." 
 
 There were, however, some evangelical Christians who 
 thought Henry was " troubled * more by his passions than 
 by his conscience ; and they asked how it happened that a 
 prince, who represented himself to be so disturbed by the 
 possible transgression of a law of doubtful interpretation, 
 could desire, after twenty years, to violate the indisputable 
 
 law which forbade the divorce? On the 21st of July, the 
 
 day fixed ad concludendum, the cause was adjourned until 
 the Friday following, and no one doubted that the matter 
 would then be terminated. 
 
 All prepared for this important day. The king ordered 
 the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk to be present at the sitting, 
 of the court; and being himself impatient to hear the so 
 much coveted judgment, he stole into a gallery of the par- 
 liament chamber facing the judges. 
 
 The legates of the holy see having taken their seats, the 
 attorney-general signified to them, " that everything neces- 
 sary for the information of their conscience having been 
 judicially laid before them, that day had been fixed for the 
 conclusion of the trial." There was a pause; every one 
 feeling the importance of this judgment, waited for it with
 
 FINAL ADJOUKNMENT THE LEGATE'S REASONS. 449 
 
 
 
 impatience. " Either tlie papacy pronounces my divorce 
 from Catherine," the king had said, " or I shall divorce my- 
 self from the papacy." That was the way Henry put the 
 question. All eyes, and particularly the king's, were turned 
 on the judges ; Campeggio could not retreat ; he must now 
 Bay yes or no. For some time he was silent. He knew for 
 certain that the queen's appeal had been admitted by 
 Clement VII., and that the latter had concluded an alliance 
 with the emperor. It was no longer in his power to grant 
 the king's request. Clearly foreseeing that a no would per- 
 haps forfeit the power of Rome in England, while a yes 
 might put an end to the plans of religious emancipation 
 which alarmed him so much, he could not make up his mind 
 to say either yes or no. 
 
 At last the nuncio rose slowly from his chair, and all the 
 assembly listened with emotion to the oracular decision 
 which for so many years the powerful king of England had 
 sought from the Roman pontiff. " The general vacation of 
 the harvest and vintage," he said, " being observed every 
 year by the court of Rome, dating from to-morrow the 24th 
 of July, the beginning of the -dog-days, we adjourn, to some 
 future period, the conclusion of these pleadings." * 
 
 The auditors were thunderstruck. " What ! because the 
 malaria renders the air of Rome dangerous at the end of 
 July, and compels the Romans to close their courts, must a 
 trial be broken off on the banks of the Thames, when its 
 conclusion is looked for so impatiently?" The people hoped 
 for a judicial sentence, and they were answered with a jest ; 
 it was thus Rome made sport of Christendom. Campeggio, 
 io disarm Henry's wrath, gave utterance to some noble sen- 
 timents; but his whole line of conduct raises legitimate 
 doubts as to his sincerity. " The queen," he said, " denies 
 the competency of the court ; I must therefore make my re- 
 port to the pope, who is the source of life and honour, and 
 wait his sovereign orders. I have not come so far to please 
 any man, be he king or subject. I am an old man, feeble 
 and sickly, and fear none but the Supreme Judge, before 
 
 * Ferisc qenerales messium et vindemiarum. Herbert, p. 278 ; Caven- 
 dish, p. 229. 
 
 V. 20
 
 430 SUFFOLK'S VIOLENCE. 
 
 
 
 whom I must soon appear. I therefore adjourn this court 
 until the 1st of October." 
 
 It was evident that this adjournment was only a formality 
 intended to signify the definitive rejection of Henry's de- 
 mand. The same custom prevails in the British legislature. 
 
 The king, who from his place of concealment had heard 
 Campeggio's speech, could scarcely control his Indignation. 
 He wanted a regular judgment ; he clung to forms ; he de- 
 sired that his cause should pass successfully through all the 
 windings of ecclesiastical procedure, and yet here it is 
 wrecked upon the vacations of the Romish court. Henry 
 was silent, however, either from prudence, or because sur- 
 prise deprived him of the power of speech, and he hastily 
 left the gallery. 
 
 Norfolk, Suffolk, and the other courtiers, did not follow 
 him. The king and his ministers, the peers and the people, 
 and even the clergy, were almost unanimous, and yet the 
 pope pronounced his veto. He humbled the Defender of 
 the Faith to flatter the author of the sack of Rome, This 
 was too much. The impetuous Suffolk started from his 
 seat, struck his hand violently on the table in front of him, 
 cast a threatening look upon the judges, and exclaimed : "By 
 the mass, the old saying is confirmed to-day, that no cardinal 
 has ever brought good to England."* " Sir, of all men in 
 this realm," replied Wolsey, " you have the least cause to 
 disparage cardinals, for if I, poor cardinal, had not been, you 
 would not have a head on your shoulders." -j- It would 
 seem that Wolsey pacified Henry, at the time of the duke's 
 marriage with the Princess Mary. " I cannot pronounce 
 sentence," continued "Wolsey, " without knowing the good 
 pleasure of his holiness." The two dukes and the other 
 noblemen left the hall in anger, and hastened to the palace.J 
 The legates, remaining with their officers, looked at each 
 
 * Mensam quse proponebatur magno ictu concutiens : Per sacram, 
 inquit, missam, nemo unquam legatorum aut cardinalium quicquam boui 
 ttd Angliam apportavit. Sanders, p. 49. 
 
 f Cavendish, p. 233. 
 
 J Duces ex judicio discedentes, nt ipsi omnibus iracundise fiamrais 
 orebantar. Sanders, p. 49.
 
 CHANGE IN THE KING'S MIND. 451 
 
 other for a few moments. At last Campeggio, who alone 
 had remained calm during this ?cene of violence, arose, and 
 the audience dispersed. 
 
 Henry did not allow himself to be crushed by this blow. 
 Rome, by her strange proceedings, aroused in him that sus- 
 picious and despotic spirit, of which he gave such tragic 
 proofs in after-years. The papacy was making sport of him. 
 Clement and Wolsey tossed his divorce from one to the other 
 like a ball which, now at Rome and now in London, seemed 
 fated to remain perpetually in the air. The king thought he 
 had been long enough the plaything of his holiness and of 
 the crafty cardinal ; his patience was exhausted, and he re- 
 solved to show his adversaries that Henry VIII. was more 
 than a match for these bishops. We shall find him seizing 
 this favourable opportunity, and giving an unexpected solu- 
 tion to the matter. 
 
 Wolsey sorrowfully hung his head ; by taking part with 
 the nuncio and the pope, he had signed the warrant of his 
 own destruction. So long as Henry had a single ray of 
 hope, he thought proper still to dissemble with Clement VII. ; 
 but he might vent all his angeT on Wolsey. From the period 
 of the Roman Vacations the cardinal was ruined in his 
 master's mind. Wolsey's enemies seeing his favour decline, 
 hastened to attack him. Suffolk and Norfolk in particular, 
 impatient to get rid of an insolent priest who had so long 
 chafed their pride, told Henry that Wolsey had been con- 
 tinually playing false ; they went over all his negotiations 
 month by month and day by day, and drew the most over- 
 whelming conclusions from them. Sir William Kingston 
 and Lord Manners laid before the king one of the cardinal's 
 letters which Sir Francis Bryan had obtained from the papal 
 archives. In it the cardinal desired Clement to spin out the 
 divorce question, and finally to oppose it, seeing (he added) 
 that if Henry was separated from Catherine, a friend to the 
 reformers would become queen of England.* This letter 
 clearly expressed Wolsey's inmost thoughts : Rome at any 
 
 price and perish England and Henry rather than the 
 
 popedom ! We can imagine the king's anger. 
 
 * Edm. Campion De divortio. Herbert, p, 289.
 
 452 WOLHEY ACCUSED BY ALL. 
 
 Anne Boleyn's friends were not working alone. There 
 was not a person at court whom Wolsey's haughtiness and 
 tyranny had not offended ; no one in the king's council in 
 whom his continual intrigues had not raised serious suspi- 
 cions. He had (they said) betrayed in France the cause of 
 England; kept up in time of peace an 3 war secret intelli- 
 gence with Madam, mother of Francis I.; received great 
 presents from her ;* oppressed the nation, and trodden' under 
 foot the laws of the kingdom. The people called him .French- 
 man and traitor, and all England seemed to vie in throwing 
 burning brands at the superb edifice which the pride of this 
 prelate bad so laboriously erected. -J- 
 
 Wolsey was too clearsighted not to discern the signs of 
 his approaching fall. " Both the rising and the setting sun 
 (for thus an historian calls Anne Boleyn and Catherine of 
 Aragon) frowned upon him,"J and the sky, growing darker 
 around him, gave token of the storm that was to overwhelm 
 him. If the cause failed, Wolsey incurred the vengeance of 
 *.he king ; if it succeeded, he would be delivered up to the 
 vengeance of the Boleyns, without speaking of Catherine's, 
 the emperor's, and the pope's. Happy Campeggio ! thought 
 the cardinal, he has nothing to fear. If Henry's favour is 
 withdrawn from him, Charles and Clement will make him 
 compensation. But Wolsey lost everything when he lost 
 the king's good graces. Detested by his fellow-citizens, 
 despised and hated by all Europe, he saw to whatever side 
 he turned nothing but the just reward of his avarice and 
 falseness. He strove in vain, as on other occasions, to lean 
 on the ambassador of France ; Du Bellay was solicited on 
 the other side. " I am exposed here to such a heavy and 
 continual fire that I am half dead," exclaimed the bishop of 
 Bayonne ; and the cardinal met with an unusual reserve 
 in his former confidant. 
 
 Yet the crisis approached. Like a skilful but affrighted 
 pilot, Wolsey cast his eyes around him to discover a port 
 
 * Du Bellay'a Letters, Le Grand, Preuves, p. 374. 
 
 f Novis etiam furoris et insaniae facibus incenderunt. Sanders, p. 49. 
 
 J Fuller, p. 176. 
 
 Du Bellay to Montmorency, 15th June. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 324.
 
 ANNE BOLETN AT HEVER. 453 
 
 in winch he could take refuge. He could find none but his 
 see of York. He therefore began once more tc complain of 
 the fatigues of power, of the weariness of the diplomatic 
 career, and to extol the sweetness of an episcopal life. On 
 a sudden he felt a great interest about the flock of whom he 
 had never thought before. Those around him shook their 
 heads, well knowing that such a rotreat would be to Wolsey 
 the bitterest of disgraces. One single idea supported him ; 
 if he fell, it would be because he had clung more to the pope 
 than to the king : he would be the martyr of his faith. 
 What a faith, what a martyr 1 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Anne Boleyn at Hever She reads the Obedience of a Christian Man- 
 ia recalled to Court Miss Gainsford and George Zouch Tyndale's 
 Book converts Zouch Zouch in the Chapel-Royal The Book seized 
 Anne applies to Henry The King reads the Book Pretended In- 
 fluence of the Book on Henry The Court at Woodstock The Park 
 and its Goblins Henry's Esteem for Anne. 
 
 WHILE these things were taking place, Anne was living at 
 Hever Castle in retirement and sadness. Scruples from 
 time to time still alarmed her conscience. It is true, the 
 king represented to her unceasingly that his salvation and 
 the safety of his people demanded the dissolution of a union 
 condemned by the divine law, and that what he solicited 
 several popes had granted. Had not Alexander VI. an- 
 nulled, after ten years, the marriage of Ladislaus and Bea- 
 trice of Naples? Had not Louis XII., tlte father of his 
 people, been divorced Irom Joan of France ? Nothing was 
 more common, he said, than to see the divorce of a prince 
 authorized by a pope ; the security of the state must be pro- 
 vided for before everything else. Carried away by these 
 arguments and dazzled by the splendour of a throne, Anne 
 Boleyn consented to usurp at Henry's side the rank belong-
 
 454 ANNE READS THE OBEDIENCE OF A CHRISTIAN MAN. 
 
 ing to another. Yet, if she was imprudent and ambitious, 
 she was feeling and generous, and the misfortunes of a queen 
 whom she respected soon made her reject with terror the 
 idea of taking her place. The fertile pastures of Kent and 
 the gothic halls of Hever Castle were by turns the witnesses 
 of the mental conflicts this young lady experienced. Thfc 
 fear she entertained of seeing the queen again, and the idea 
 that the two cardinals, her enemies, were plotting her ruin, 
 made her adopt the resolution of not returning to court, and 
 she shut herself up in her solitary chamber. 
 
 Anne had neither the deep piety of a Bilney, nor the 
 somewhat vague and mystic spirituality observable in Mar- 
 garet of V? lois ; it was not feeling which prevailed in her 
 religion, it was knowledge, and a horror of superstition and 
 pharisaism. Her mind required light and activity, and at 
 that time she sought in reading the consolations so neces- 
 sary to her position. One day she opened one of the books 
 prohibited in England, which a friend of the Reformation 
 had given her: The Obedience of a Christian Man. Its 
 author was William Tyndale, that invisible man whom 
 Wolsey's agents were hunting for in Brabant and Germany, 
 and this was a recommendation to Anne. " If thou believe 
 the promises," she read, " then God's truth justifieth thee ; 
 that is, forgiveth thy sins and sealeth thee with his Holy 
 Spirit. If thou have true faith, so seest thou the exceeding 
 and infinite love and mercy which God hath shown thee 
 freely in Christ : then must thou needs love again : and 
 love cannot but compel thee to work. If when tyrants op- 
 pose thee thou have power to confess, then art thou sure 
 that thou art safe.* If thou be fallen from the way of truth, 
 come thereto again and thou art safe. Yea, Christ shall 
 save thee, and the angels of heaven shall rejoice at thy com- 
 ing." -J- These words did not change Anne's heart, but she 
 marked with her nail, as was her custom,:): other passages 
 which struck her more, and which she desired to point out 
 to the king if, as she hoped, she was ever to meet him again. 
 
 * Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. p. 295. 
 f Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p. 300. 
 t Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 438.
 
 ANNS RECALLED TO COURT. 455 
 
 She believed that the truth was there, and took a lively 
 interest in those whom Wolsey, Henry, and the pope were 
 at that time persecuting. 
 
 Anne was soon dragged from these pious lessons, and 
 launched into the midst of a world full of dangers. Henry, 
 convinced that he had nothing to ezpect henceforward from 
 Campeggio, neglected those proprieties which he had hither- 
 to observed, and immediately after the adjournment ordered 
 Anne Boleyn to return to court; he restored her to the 
 place she had formerly occupied, and even surrounded her 
 with increased splendour. Every one saw that Anne, in 
 the king's mind, was queen of England ; and a powerful 
 party was formed around her which proposed to accomplish 
 the definitive ruin of the cardinal. 
 
 After her return to court, Anne read much less frequently 
 The Obedience of a Christian Man and the Testament of 
 Jesus Christ. Henry's homage, her friends' intrigues, and 
 the whirl of festivities, bade fair to stifle the thoughts which 
 solitude. had aroused in her heart. One day having left 
 Tyndale's book in a window, Miss Gainsford, a fair young 
 gentlewoman* attached to her person, took it up and read 
 it. A gentleman of handsome mien, cheerful temper, and 
 extreme mildness, named George Zouch, also belonging to 
 Anne's household, and betrothed to Miss Gainsford, profit- 
 ing by the liberty his position gave him, indulged sometimes 
 in " love tricks."-}- On one occasion when George desired to 
 have a little talk with her, he was annoyed to find her 
 absorbed by a book of whose contents he knew nothing; 
 and taking advantage of a moment when the young lady 
 had turned away her head, he laughingly snatched it from 
 her. Miss Gainsford ran after Zouch to recover her book ; 
 but just at that moment she heard her mistress calling her, 
 and she left George, threatening him with her finger. 
 
 As she did not return immediately, George withdrew to 
 his room, and opened the volume ; it was the Obedience of 
 a Christian Man. He glanced over a few lines, then a few 
 pages, and at last read the book through more than once. 
 He seemed to hear the voice of God. " I feel the Spirit of 
 Strype, i. p. 171. t Ibid. p. 172.
 
 456 ZOUCH IN THE KING'S CHAPEL. 
 
 God," he said, " speaking in my heart as he has spoken in 
 the heart of him who wrote the book." * The words which 
 had only made a temporary impression on the preoccupied 
 mind of Anne Boleyn, penetrated to the heart of her equerry 
 and converted him. Miss Gainsford, fearing that Anne 
 would ask for her book, entreated George to restore it to 
 her ; but he positively refused, and even the young lady's 
 tears failed to make him give up a volume in which he had 
 found the life of his e-oul. Becoming more serious, he no 
 longer jested as before ; and when Miss Gainsford peremp- 
 torily demanded the book, he was, says the chronicler, 
 " ready to weep himself." 
 
 Zouch, finding in this volume an edification which empty 
 forms and ceremonies could not give, used to carry it with 
 him to the king's chapel. Dr Sampson, the dean, generally 
 officiated ; and while the choir chanted the service, George 
 would be absorbed in his book, where he read : " If when 
 thou seest the celebration of the sacrament of the Lord's 
 Supper, thou believest in this promise of Christ : This is my 
 body that is broken for you, and if thou have this prainise 
 fast in thine heart, thou art saved and justified thereby; 
 thou eatest his body and drinkest his blood. If not, so 
 helpeth it thee not, though thou hearest a thousand masses 
 in a day : no more than it should help thee in a dead thirst 
 to behold a bush at a tavern door, if thou knewest not 
 thereby that there was wine within to be sold."-j- The 
 young man dwelt upon these words : by faith he ate the 
 body and drank the blood of the Son of God. This was 
 what was passing in the palaces of Henry VIII. ; there 
 were saints in the household of Caesar. 
 
 Wolsey, desirous of removing from the court everything 
 that might favour the Reformation, had recommended ex- 
 treme vigilance to Dr Sampson, so as to prevent the circula- 
 tion of the innovating books. Accordingly, one day when 
 George was in the chapel absorbed in his book, the dean, 
 who, even while officiating, had not lost sight of the young 
 man, called him to him after the service, and rudely taking 
 the book from his hands, demanded : " What is ycur name, 
 * Strype, i. p. 172. f Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. p. 203.
 
 ANNE BOLEYN BEFORE THE KING. 457 
 
 and in whose service are you ? " Zouch having replied, the 
 dean withdrew with a very angry look, and carried his prey 
 to the cardinal. 
 
 When Miss Gainsford heard of this mishap, her grief was 
 extreme ; she trembled at the thought that the Obedience of 
 a Christian Man was in Wolsey's hands. Not long after this, 
 Anne having asked for her book, the young lady fell on her 
 knees, confessed all, and begged to be forgiven.* Anne 
 uttered not a word of reproach ; her quick mind saw imme- 
 diately the advantage she might derive from this affair. 
 " Well," said she, " it shall be the dearest book to them that 
 ever the dean or cardinal took away." 
 
 " The noble lady," as the chronicler styles her, immedi- 
 ately demanded an interview of the king, and on reaching 
 his presence she fell at his feet, -j- and begged his assistance. 
 " What is the matter, Anne?" said the astonished monarch. 
 She told him what had happened, and Henry promised that 
 the book should not remain in Wolsey's hands. 
 
 Anne had scarcely quitted the royal apartments when the 
 cardinal arrived with the famous volume, with the intention 
 of complaining to Henry of certain passages which he knew 
 could not fail to irritate him, and to take advantage of it 
 even to attack Anne, if the king should be offended. J 
 Henry's icy reception closed his mouth ; the king confined 
 himself to taking the book, and bowing out the cardinal. 
 This was precisely what Anne had hoped for. She begged 
 the king to read the book, which he promised to do. 
 
 And Henry accordingly shut himself up in his closet, and 
 read the Obedience of a Christian Man. There were few 
 works better calculated to enlighten him, and none, after the 
 Bible, that has had more influence upon the Reformation in 
 England. Tyndale treated of obedience, " the essential 
 principle," as he terms it, " of every political or religious 
 community." He declaimed against the unlawful power of 
 the popes, who usurped the lawful authority of Christ and 
 of his Word. He professed political doctrines too favour- 
 
 * She on her knees told it all. Strype, vol. i. p. 172. 
 
 t Upon her knees she desireth the king's help for her book. Ibid. 
 
 Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 441. 
 
 20*
 
 458 THE KING READS TYNDALE's BOOK. 
 
 able doubtless to absolute power, but calculated to show 
 that the reformers were not, as had been asserted, insti- 
 gators of rebellion. Henry read as follows : 
 
 " The king is in the room of God in this world. He that 
 resisteth the king, resisteth God ; he that judgeth the king, 
 judgeth God. He is the minister of God to defend thee 
 from a thousand inconveniences ; though he be the greatest 
 tyrant in the world, yet is he unto thee a great benefit of 
 God ; for it is better to pay the tenth than to lose all, and 
 to suffer wrong of one man than of every man."* 
 
 These are indeed strange doctrines for rebels to hold, 
 thought the king ; and he continued : 
 
 " Let kings, if they had lever [rather] be Christians in 
 deed than so to be called, give themselves altogether to the 
 wealth [well-being] of their realms after the ensample of 
 Jesus Christ ; remembering that the people are God's, and 
 not theirs ; yea, are Christ's inheritance, bought with his 
 blood. The most despised person in his realm (if he is a 
 Christian) is equal with him in the kingdom of God and of 
 Christ. Let the king put off all pride, and become a brother 
 to the poorest of his subjects." } 
 
 It is probable that these words were less satisfactory to 
 the king. He kept on reading : 
 
 " Emperors and kings are nothing now-a-days, but even 
 hangmen unto the pope and bishops, to kill whomsoever 
 they condemn, as Pilate was unto the scribes and pharisees 
 and high bishops to hang Christ." | 
 
 This seemed to Henry rather strong language. 
 
 " The pope hath received no other authority of Christ than 
 to preach God's word. Now, this word should rule only, and 
 not bishops' decrees or the pope's pleasure. In prcesentia 
 majoris cessat potestas minoris, in the presence of the greater 
 the less hath no power. The pope, against all the doctrine 
 of Christ, which saith, My kingdom is not of this world, hath 
 usurped the right of the emperor. Kings must make account 
 of their doings only to God. || No person may bo exempt 
 
 * Tyndale's Works, edited by Russell, vol. i. p. 212. 
 
 t Ibid. p. 233. * Ibid. p. 274. 
 
 Ibid. p. 243. I Ibid. p. 220.
 
 AN ERRONEOUS JUDGMENT. 459 
 
 from this ordinance of God ; neither can the profession of 
 monks and friars, or anything that the popes or bishops can 
 lay for themselves, except them from the sword of the em- 
 peror or king, if they break the laws. For it is written, 
 (Rom. xiii.) Let every soul submit himself unto the author- 
 ity of the higher powers."* 
 
 " What excellent reading !" exclaimed Henry, when he had 
 finished ; " this is truly a book for all kings to read, and for 
 me particularly." -J- 
 
 Captivated by Tyndale's work, the king began to converse 
 with Anne about the church and the pope ; and she who had 
 seen Margaret of Valois unassumingly endeavour to instruct 
 Francis I. strove in like manner to enlighten Henry VIIL 
 She did not possess the influence over him she desired ; this 
 unhappy prince was, to the very end of his life, opposed to 
 the evangelical reformation ; protestants and catholics have 
 been equally mistaken when they have regarded him as be- 
 ing favourable to it. " In a short time," says the annalist 
 quoted by Strype at the end of his narrative, " the king, by 
 the help of this virtuous lady, had his eyes opened to the 
 truth. He learned to seek after that truth, to advance God's 
 religion and glory, to detest the pope's doctrine, his lies, his 
 pomp, and pride, and to deliver his subjects from the Egyp- 
 tian darkness and Babylonian bonds that the pope had 
 brought him and his subjects under. Despising the rebellions 
 of. his subjects and the rage of so many mighty potentates 
 abroad, he set forward a religious reformation, which, begin- 
 ning with the triple-crowned head, came down to all the mem- 
 bers of the hierarchy." History has rarely delivered a more 
 erroneous judgment. Henry's eyes were never opened to the 
 truth, and it was not he who made the Reformation. IT 
 was accomplished first of all by Scripture, and then by the 
 ministry of simple and faithful men baptized of the Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 Yet Tyndale's book and the conduct of the legates had 
 given rise in the king's mind to new thoughts which he 
 sought time to mature. He desired also to conceal his anger 
 from Wolsey and Campeggio, and dissipate his spleen, says 
 
 * Tyndale'e Works, p. 213. t Strype, i. p. i72.
 
 460 THE COURT AT WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the historian Collyer; he therefore gave orders to remove 
 the court to the palace of Woodstock. The magnificent park 
 attached to this royal residence, in which was the celebrated 
 bower constructed (it is said) by Henry II. to conceal the 
 fair Rosamond, offered all the charms of the promenade, the 
 chase, and solitude.* Hence he could easily repair to Lang- 
 ley, Grafton, and other country-seats. It was not long be- 
 fore the entertainments, horse-races, and other rural sports 
 began. The world with its pleasures and its grandeur, were 
 at the bottom the idols of Anne Boleyn's heart ; but yet she 
 felt a certain attraction for the new doctrine, which was con- 
 founded in her mind with the great cause of all knowledge, 
 perhaps even with her own. More enlightened than the 
 generality of women, she- was distinguished by the superiority 
 of her understanding not only over her own sex, but even 
 over many of the gentlemen of the court. While Catherine, 
 a member of the third order of St Francis, indulged in trifling 
 practices, the more intelligent, if not more pious Anne, cared 
 but little for amulets which the friars had blessed, for appari- 
 tions, or visions of angels. Woodstock furnished her with 
 an opportunity of curing Henry VIII. of the superstitious 
 ideas natural to him. There was a place in the forest said 
 to be haunted by evil spirits ; not a priest or a courtier dared 
 approach it. A tradition ran that if a king ventured to cross 
 the boundary, he would fall dead. Anne resolved to take 
 Henry there. Accordingly, one morning she led the way in 
 the direction of the place where these mysterious powers 
 manifested their presence (as it was said) by strange appari- 
 tions ; they entered the wood ; they arrived at the so much 
 dreaded spot ; all hesitated -, but Anne's calmness reassured 
 
 her companions ; they advanced ; they found nothing but 
 
 trees and turf, and, laughing at their former terrors, they 
 explored every corner of this mysterious resort of the evil 
 spirits. Anne returned to the palace, congratulating herself 
 on the triumph Henry had gained over his imaginary fears.-}- 
 
 * The letters from the king's secretaries Gardiner and Tuke to Wol- 
 sy, dated Woodstock, run from 4th August to 8th September. State 
 Papers, i. p. 335-347. 
 
 t Foxe, v. p. 136 ; Miss Benger's Life of Anne Boleyn, p. 299.
 
 EMBARRASSMENT OF THE POPE. 461 
 
 This prince, who could as yet bear with superiority in others, 
 was struck with Anne Boleyn's. 
 
 Never too gay nor yet too melancholy, 
 
 A heavenly mind is hers, like angels holy. 
 
 None purer ever soared above the sky, 
 
 O mighty marvel, thus may every eye 
 
 See of what monster strange the humble serf am I ; 
 
 Monster indeed, for in her frame divine 
 
 A woman's form, man's heart, and angel's head combine.* 
 
 These verses of Clement Marot, written in honour of Mar- 
 garet of Valois, faithfully express what Henry then felt for 
 Anne, who had been with Marot in the household of that 
 princess. Henry's love may perhaps have deceived him as 
 to Anne's excellencies. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Embarrassment of the Pope The Triumphs of Charles decide him Ho 
 traverses the Cause to Rome Wolsey's Dejection Henry's Wrath 
 His Fears Wolsey obtains Comfort Arrival of the two Legates at 
 
 ' Grafton Wolsey's Reception by Henry Wolsey and Norfolk at Din- 
 ner Henry with Anne Conference between the King and the Cardi- 
 nal Wolsey's Joy and Grief The Supper at Euston Campeggio's 
 farewell Audience Wolsey's Disgrace Campeggio at Dover He is 
 accused by the Courtiers Leaves England Wolsey foresees his own 
 Fall and that of the Papacy. 
 
 WHILE the court was thus taking its pleasure at Wood- 
 stock, Wolsey remained in London a prey to the acutest an- 
 guish. " This avocation to Rome," wrote he to Gregory Da 
 Casale, " will not only completely alienate the king and his 
 
 * Jamais trop gay, ne trop melancolique, 
 Elle a au chef un esprit an^elique, 
 Le plus subtil qui one au ciel vola. 
 O grand' nierveille ! on peut voir par ccla 
 Que je suis serf d'un monstre fort etrange : 
 Monstre je dy, car pour tout vray elle a 
 Corps fe'miiiin, coeur d'homme et tete d'ango.
 
 462 THE CAUSE AVOKED TO ROME. 
 
 realm from the apostolic see, but will ruin me utterly."* 
 This message had hardly reached the pope, before the im- 
 perial ambassadors handed to him the queen's protest, and 
 added in a very significant tone : " If your holiness does not 
 call this cause before you, the emperor, who is determined to 
 bring it to an end, will have recourse to other arguments" 
 The same perplexity always agitated Clement : Which ol 
 the two must be sacrificed, Henry or Charles ? Anthony de 
 Leyva, who commanded the imperial forces, having routed 
 the French army, the pope no longer doubted that Charles 
 was the elect of Heaven. It was not Europe alone which 
 acknowledged this prince's authority ; a new world had just 
 laid its power and its gold at his feet. The formidable 
 priest-king of the Aztecs had been unable to withstand 
 Cortez ; could the priest-king of Rome withstand Charles 
 V. ? Cortez had returned from Mexico, bringing with him 
 Mexican chiefs in all their barbarous splendour, with thou- 
 sands of pesos, with gold and silver and emeralds of extraor- 
 dinary size, with magnificent tissues and birds of brilliant 
 plumage. He had accompanied Charles, who was then go- 
 ing to Italy, to the place of embarkation, and had sent to 
 Clement VII. costly gifts of the precious metals, valuable 
 jewels, and a troop of Mexican dancers, buffoons, and jug- 
 glers, who charmed the pope and the cardinal above all 
 things.-}- 
 
 Clement, even while refusing Henry's prayer, had not as 
 yet granted the emperor's. He thought he could now resist 
 no longer the star of a monarch victorious over two worlds, 
 and hastened to enter into negotiations with him. Sudden 
 torrors still assailed him from time to time : My refusal (he 
 said to himself) may perhaps cause me to lose England. 
 But Charles, holding him in his powerful grasp, compelled 
 him to submit. Henry's antecedents were rather encouraging 
 to the pontiff. How could he imagine that a prince, who 
 alone of all the monarchs of Europe had once contended 
 
 * Non solum regium animum et totum hoc regnum a sedis apostolicse 
 devotione penitus abalienabit, ac me omnino perdet et funditus destruet. 
 State Papers, vii. p. 189 
 
 f Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, book vii. chap. iv.
 
 PEACE BETWEEN CLEMENT AKD CHARLES. 463 
 
 against the great reformer, would now separate from the 
 popedom? On the 6th of July, Clement declared to the 
 English envoys that he avoked to Borne the cause between 
 Henry VIII. and Catherine of Aragon. In other words, 
 this was refusing the divorce. " There are twenty-three 
 points in this case," said the courtiers, " and the debate on 
 the first has lasted a year ; before the end of the trial, the 
 king will be not only past marrying but past living." * 
 
 When he learned that the fatal blow had been struck, 
 Bennet, in a tone of sadness, exclaimed : " Alas ! most 
 holy father, by this act the Church in England will be utterly 
 destroyed; the king declared it to me with tears in his eyes."f 
 " Why is it my fortune to live in such evil days ? " re- 
 plied the pope, who, in his turn, began to weep ; % " but I 
 am encircled by the emperor's forces, and if I were to please 
 the king, I should draw a fearful ruin upon myself and upon 
 the church God will be my judge." 
 
 On the 15th of July, Da Casale sent the fatal news to the 
 English minister. The king was cited before the pope, and 
 in case of refusal condemned in a fine of 10,000 ducats. On 
 the 18th of July, peace was proclaimed at Rome between the 
 pontiff and the emperor, and on the next day (these dates 
 are important) Clement, wishing still to make one more at- 
 tempt to ward off the blow with which the papacy was 
 threatened, wrote to Cardinal Wolsey : " My dear son, how 
 can I describe to you my affliction ? Show in this matter 
 the prudence which so distinguishes you, and preserve the 
 king in those kindly feelings which he has ever manifested 
 towards me." A useless attempt ! Far from saving the 
 oapacy, Wolsey was to be wrecked along with it. 
 
 Wolsey was thunderstruck. At the very time he was 
 assuring Henry of the attachment of Clement and Francis, 
 both were deserting him. The " politic handling " failed, 
 which the cardinal had thought so skilful, and which had 
 been so tortuous. Henry now had none but enemies on the 
 continent of Europe, and the Reformation was daily spread- 
 
 * Fuller, p. 178. f Barnet, Records, ii. p. xxxvii. Ibid. 
 
 Ut dictum regcm in solita erga nos bencvolentia retinere velis. Ibid. 
 p. xxxviii.
 
 464 HENRY'S ANGER. 
 
 ing over his kingdom. Wolsey's anguish cannot be described. 
 His power, his pomp, his palaces were all threatened ; who 
 could tell whether he would even preserve his liberty and his 
 life. A just reward for so much duplicity. 
 
 But the king's wrath was to be greater than even the 
 minister's alarm. His terrified servants wondered how they 
 should announce the pontiffs decision. Gardiner, who, after 
 his return from Rome, had been named secretary of state, 
 went down to Langley on the 3d of August to communicate 
 it to him. What news for the proud Tudor ! The decision 
 on the divorce was forbidden in England ; the cause avoked 
 to Rome, there to be buried and unjustly lost ; Francis I. 
 treating with the emperor ; Charles and Clement on the point 
 of exchanging at Bologna the most striking signs of their 
 unchangeable alliance ; the services rendered by the king to 
 the popedom repaid with the blackest ingratitude ; his hope 
 of giving an heir to the crown disgracefully frustrated ; and 
 last, but not least, Henry VIII., the proudest monarch 01 
 Christendom, summoned to Rome to appear before an eccle- 
 siastical tribunal it was too much for Henry. His 
 
 wrath, a moment restrained, burst forth like a clap of thun- 
 der,* and all trembled around him. " Do they presume," 
 he exclaimed, " to try my cause elsewhere than in my own 
 dominions ? I, the king of England, summoned before an 
 
 Italian tribunal ! Yes, I will goto Rome, but it shall 
 
 be with such a mighty army that the pope, and his priests, 
 and all Italy shall be struck with terror.-J- I forbid the let- 
 ters of citation to be executed," he continued ; " I forbid the 
 commission to consider its functions at an end." Henry would 
 have desired to tear off Campeggio's purple robes, and throw 
 this prince of the Roman church into prison, in order to 
 frighten Clement ; but the very magnitude of the insult com- 
 pelled him to restrain himself. He feared above' all things 
 to appear humbled in the eyes of England, and he hoped, by 
 showing moderation, to hide the affront he had received. 
 
 * He became much incensed. Herbert, p. 287. Supra quam dici po- 
 test excanduit. Sanders, p. 50. 
 
 f He would do the same with such a mayn [great] and army royal, as 
 should be formidable to the pope and all Italy. State Papers, vii. p. 194. 
 Burnet, Records, p. xxxvii.
 
 HE CONCEALS HIS AFFRONT. 465 
 
 " Let everything be done," he told Gardiner, " to conceal 
 from my subjects these letters of citation, which are sa hurt- 
 ful to my glory. Write to Wolsey that I have the greatest 
 confidence in his dexterity, and that he ought, by good hand- 
 ling, to win over Campeggio * and the queen's counsellors ; 
 and, above all, prevail upon them at any price not to serve 
 these citatory letters on me." But Henry had hardly given 
 his instructions when the insult of which he had been the 
 object recurred to his imagination ; the thought of Clement 
 haunted him night and day, and he swore to exact a strik- 
 ing vengeance from the pontiff. Rome desires to have no 
 
 more to do with England England in her turn will cast 
 
 off Rome. Henry will sacrifice Wolsey, Clement, and the 
 church ; nothing shall stop his fury. The crafty pontiff has 
 concealed his game, the king shall beat him openly ; and 
 from age to age the popedom shall shed tears over the im- 
 prudent folly of a Medici. . 
 Thus after insupportable delays, which had fatigued the 
 nation, a thunderbolt fell upon England. Court, clergy, and 
 people,-from whom it was impossible to conceal these great 
 events, were deeply stirred, and the whole kingdom was in 
 commotion. Wolsey, still hoping to ward off the ruin im- 
 pending over both himself and the papacy, immediately put 
 in play all that dexterity which Henry had spoken of; he so 
 far prevailed that the letters citatorial were not served on the 
 king, but only the brief addressed to Wolsey by Clement 
 VII.-J- The cardinal, all radiant with this trivial success, and 
 desirous of profiting by it to raise his credit, resolved to ac- 
 company Campeggio, who was going down to Grafton to 
 take leave of the king. When the coming of the two legates 
 was heard of at court, the agitation was very great. The 
 dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk regarded this proceeding as the 
 last effort of their enemy, and entreated Henry not to receive 
 him. " The king will receive him," said some. " The king 
 will not receive him," answered others. At length, one Sun- 
 day morning, it was announced that the prelates were at the 
 
 Your grace's dexterity by good handling of the Cardinal Cam- 
 
 peggio. State Papers, vol. i. p. 336. 
 t Ibid. p. 343. 
 
 U2
 
 466 WOLSEY'S DISFAVOUU. 
 
 gates of the mansion. Wolsey looked round with an anxious 
 eye for the great officers who were accustomed to introduce 
 him. They appeared, and desired Campeggio to follow them. 
 When the legate had been taken to his apartments, Wolsey 
 waited his turn ; but great was his consternation on being 
 informed that there was no chamber appointed for him in the 
 palace. Sir Henry Norris, groom of the stole, offered Wolsey 
 the use of his own room, and the cardinal followed him, al- 
 most sinking beneath the humiliation he had undergone.* 
 He made ready to appear before the king, and summoning 
 up his courage, proceeded to the presence-chamber. 
 
 The lords of the council were standing in a row according 
 to their rank ; Wolsey, taking off his hat, passed along, 
 saluting each of them with affected civility. A great num- 
 ber of courtiers arrived, impatient to see how Henry would 
 receive his old favourite ; and most of them were already ex- 
 ulting in the striking disgrace of which they hoped to be 
 witnesses. At last the king was announced. 
 
 Henry stood under the cloth of state ; and Wolsey ad- 
 vanced and knelt before him. Deep silence prevailed through- 
 out the chamber To the surprise of all, Henry stooped 
 
 down and raised him up with both hands Then, with a 
 
 pleasing smile, he took Wolsey to the window, desired him 
 to put on his hat, and talked familiarly with him. " Then," 
 says Cavendish, the cardinal's gentleman usher, " it would 
 have made you smile to behold the countenances of those who 
 had laid wagers that the king would not speak with him." 
 
 But this was the last ray of evening which then lighted 
 up the darkening fortunes of Wolsey : the star of his favour 
 
 was about to set for ever The silence continued, for every 
 
 one desired to catch a few words of the conversation. The 
 king seemed to be accusing Wolsey, and Wolsey to be jus- 
 tifying himself. On a sudden Henry pulled a letter out of 
 his bosom, and showing it to the cardinal, said in a loud 
 voice: "How can that be? is not this your hand?" It 
 was no doubt the letter which Bryan had intercepted. Wol- 
 sey replied in an under-tone, and seemed to have appeased 
 his master. The dinner hour having arrived, the king left 
 * Cavendish, p. 237-245.
 
 WOLSEY'S RECEPTION. 467 
 
 the room, telling Wolsey that he would not fail to see him 
 again ; the courtiers were eager to make their profoundest 
 reverences to the cardinal, hut he haughtily traversed tho 
 chamber, and the dukes hastened to carry to Anne Boleyn 
 the news of this astonishing reception. 
 
 Wolsey, Campeggio, and the lords of the council sat down 
 to dinner. The cardinal, well aware that the terrible letter 
 would be his utter ruin, and that Henry's good graces had 
 no other object than to prepare his fall, began to hint at his 
 retirement. " Truly," said he with a devout air, " the king 
 would do well to send his bishops and chaplains home to their 
 cures and benefices." The company looked at one another 
 with astonishment. " Yea, marry," said the duke of Nor- 
 folk somewhat rudely, " and so it were meet for you to do 
 also." " I should be very well contented therewith," an- 
 swered Wolsey, " if it were the king's pleasure to license 
 me with leave to go to my cure at Winchester." " Nay, to 
 your benefice at York, where your greatest honour and 
 charge is," replied Norfolk, who was not willing that Wolsey 
 should be living so near Henry. " Even as it shall please 
 the king," added Wolsey, and changed the subject of con- 
 versation. 
 
 Henry had caused himself to be announced to Anne Bo- 
 leyn, who (says Cavendish) "kept state at Grafton more 
 like a queen than a simple maid." Possessing extreme sen- 
 sibility, and an ardent imagination, Anne, who felt the 
 slightest insult with all the sensibility of her woman's heart, 
 was very dissatisfied with the king after the report of the 
 dukes. Accordingly, heedless of the presence of the attend- 
 ants, she said to him : " Sir, is it not a marvellous thing to 
 see into what great danger the cardinal hath brought you 
 with all your subjects?" "How so, sweetheart?" asked 
 Henry. Anne continued: "Are you ignorant of the ha- 
 tred his exactions have drawn upon you ? There is not a 
 man in your whole realm of England worth one hundred 
 pounds, but he hath made you his debtor." Anne here 
 alluded to the loan the king had raised among his subjects. 
 " Well, well," said Henry, who was not pleased with these 
 remarks, " I know that matter better than you." " If my
 
 468 WOLSEY'S LAST INTERVIEW. 
 
 lord of Norfolk, my lord of Suffolk, my uncle, or my father 
 had done much less than the cardinal hath done," continued 
 Anne, " they would have lost their heads ere this." " Then 
 I perceive," said Henry, "you are none of his friends." 
 " No, sir, I have no cause, nor any that love you," she re- 
 plied. The dinner was ended ; the king, without appearing 
 at all touched, proceeded to the presence-chamber, where 
 Wolsey expected him. 
 
 After a long conversation, carried on in a low tone, the 
 king took Wolsey by the hand and led him into his private 
 chamber. The courtiers awaited impatiently the termina- 
 tion of an interview which might decide the fate of England ; 
 they walked up and down the gallery, often passing before 
 the door of the closet, in the hope of catching from Wolsey's 
 looks, when he opened it, the result of this secret confer- 
 ence ; but one quarter of an hour followed another, these 
 became hours, and still the cardinal did not appear. Henry 
 having resolved that this conversation should be the last, 
 was no doubt collecting from his minister all the informa- 
 tion necessary to him. But the courtiers imagined he was 
 returning into his master's favour ; Norfolk, Suffolk, Wilt- 
 shire, and the other enemies of the prime minister, began to 
 grow alarmed, and hastened off to Anne Boleyn, who was 
 their last hope. 
 
 It was night when the king and Wolsey quitted the royal 
 closet ; the former appeared gracious, the latter satisfied ; it 
 was always Henry's custom to smile on those he intended 
 to sacrifice. " I shall see you in the morning," he said to 
 the cardinal with a friendly air. Wolsey made a low bow, 
 and, turning round to the courtiers, saw the king's smile 
 reflected on their faces. Wiltshire, Tuke, and even Suffolk, 
 were full of civility. " Well," thought he, " the motion of 
 such weathercocks as these shows me from what quarter the 
 wind of favour is blowing."* 
 
 But a moment after the wind began to change. Men 
 
 with torches waited for the cardinal at the gates of the palace 
 
 to conduct him to the place where he would have to pass 
 
 the night. Thus he was not to sleep beneath the samo 
 
 * Burnet's Ref. vol. i. p. 59.
 
 THE SDPPER AT EUSTON. 469 
 
 roof with Henry. He was to lie at Euston, one of Empson's 
 houses, about three miles off. Wolsey, repressing his vex- 
 ation, mounted his horse, the footmen preceded him with 
 their links, and after an hour's riding along very bad roads 
 he reached the lodging assigned him. 
 
 He had sat down to supper, to which some of his most in- 
 timate friends had been invited, when suddenly Gardiner 
 was announced. Gardiner owed everything to the cardinal, 
 and yet he had not appeared before him since his return 
 from Rome. He comes no doubt to play the hypocrite and 
 the spy, thought Wolsey. But as soon as the secretary en- 
 tered, Wolsey rose, made him a graceful compliment, and 
 prayed him to take a seat. " Master Secretary," he asked, 
 " where have you been since your return from Rome ?" " I 
 have been following the court from place to place." " You 
 have been hunting then ? Have you any dogs ?" asked the 
 prime minister, who knew very well what Gardiner had 
 been doing in the king's closet. " A few," replied Gardiner. 
 Wolsey thought that even the secretary was a bloodhound 
 on his track. And yet after supper he took Gardiner aside, 
 and conversed with him until midnight. He thought it pru- 
 dent to neglect nothing that might clear up his position ; 
 and Wolsey sounded Gardiner, just as he himself had been 
 sounded by Henry not long before. 
 
 The same night at Grafton the king gave Campeggio a 
 farewell audience, and treated him very kindly, " by giving 
 him presents and other matters," says Du Bellay. Henry 
 then returned to Anne Boleyn. The dukes had pointed out 
 to her the importance of the present moment; she therefore 
 asked and obtained of Henry, without any great difficulty, 
 his promise never to speak to his minister again.* The in- 
 sults of the papacy had exasperated the king of England, 
 and as he could not punish Clement, he took his revenge on 
 the cardinal. 
 
 The next morning, Wolsey, impatient to have the inter- 
 view which Henry had promised, rode back early to Grafton. 
 But as he came near, he met a numerous train of servants 
 
 * Du Bellay to the Grand Master. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 375 ; also 
 Cavendish.
 
 470 CAMPEGGIO SEARCHED AT DOVEK.* 
 
 and sumpter-horses ; and presently afterwards Henry, with 
 Anne Boleyn and many lords and ladies of the court, came 
 riding up. " What does all this mean ? " thought the cardi- 
 nal in dismay. " My lord," said the king, as he drew near, 
 " I cannot stay with you now. You will return to London 
 with cardinal Campeggio." Then striking the spurs into his 
 horse, Henry galloped off with a friendly salutation. After 
 him came Anne Boleyn, who rode past Wolsey with head 
 erect, and casting on him a proud look. The court proceeded 
 to Hartwell Park, where Anne had determined to keep the 
 king all day. Wolsey was confounded. There was no room 
 for doubt; his disgrace was certain. His head swam, he 
 remained immovable for an instant, and then recovered him- 
 self; but the blow he had received had not been unobserved 
 by the courtiers, and the cardinal's fall became the general 
 topic of conversation. 
 
 After dinner, the legates departed, and on the second day 
 reached Moor Park, a mansion built by Archbishop Neville, 
 one of Wolsey's predecessors, who for high treason had been 
 first imprisoned at Calais, and afterwards at Ham. These 
 recollections were by no means agreeable to Wolsey. The 
 next morning the two cardinals separated ; Campeggio pro- 
 ceeded to Dover, and Wolsey to London. 
 
 Campeggio was impatient to get out of England, and great 
 was his annoyance, on reaching Dover, to find that the wind 
 was contrary. But a still greater vexation was in reserve. 
 He had hardly lain down to rest himself, before his door was 
 opened, and a band of sergeants entered the room. The 
 cardinal, who knew what scenes of this kind meant in Italy, 
 thought he was a dead man,* and fell trembling at his chap- 
 lain's feet begging for absolution. Meantime the officers 
 opened his luggage, broke into his chests, scattered his 
 property about the floor, and even shook out his clothes.-j- 
 
 Henry's tranquillity had not been of long duration. 
 " Campeggio is the bearer of letters from Wolsey to Rome," 
 whispered some of the courtiers ; " who knows but they con- 
 tain treasonable matter ? " " There is, too, among his papers 
 
 * Lc Grand, TO!, ii. p. 156. Life of Campeggio, by Sigonius. 
 t Sarcinas excuti jussit. Sanders, p. 51.
 
 CHARGES AGAINST CAMPEGGIO. 471 
 
 the famous decretal pronouncing the divorce," said one ; " if 
 we had but that document it would finish the business." 
 Another affirmed that Campeggio " had large treasure with 
 him of my lord's (Wolsey's) to be conveyed in great tuns to 
 Rome,"* whither it was surmised the cardinal of York would 
 escape to enjoy the fruits of his treason. " It is certain," 
 added a third, " that Campeggio, assisted by Wolsey, has 
 been able to procure your majesty's correspondence with 
 Anne Boleyn, and is carrying it away with him." Henry, 
 therefore, sent a messenger after the nuncio, with orders 
 that his baggage should be thoroughly searched. 
 
 Nothing was found, neither letters, nor bull, nor treasures. 
 The bull had been destroyed ; the treasures Wolsey had never 
 thought of intrusting to his colleague ; and the letters of 
 Anne and Henry, Campeggio had sent on before by his son 
 Rodolph, and the pope was stretching out his hands to re- 
 ceive them, proud, like his successors, of the robbery com- 
 mitted by two of his legates. 
 
 Campeggio being reassured, and seeing that he was neither 
 to be killed nor robbed, made a great noise at this act of 
 violence, and at the insulting remarks which had given rise 
 to it. " I will not leave England," he caused Henry to be 
 informed, " until I have received satisfaction." " My lord 
 forgets that he is legate no longer," replied the king, " since 
 the pope has withdrawn his powers ; he forgets, besides, that, 
 as bishop of Salisbury, he is my subject ; as for the remarks 
 against him and the cardinal of York, it is a liberty the 
 people of England are accustomed to take, and which I can- 
 not put down." Campeggio, anxious to reach France, was 
 satisfied with these reasons, and soon forgot all his sorrows 
 at the sumptuous table of Cardinal Duprat. 
 
 Wolsey Avas not so fortunate. He had seen Campeggio 
 go away, and remained like a wrecked seaman thrown on a 
 desert isle, who has seen depart the only friends capable of 
 giving him any help. His necromancy had forewarned him 
 that this would be a fatal year.f The angel of the maid of 
 
 * Cavendish, p. 246. See also Le Grand, ii. p. 258. 
 t He had learnt of his necromancy that this would be a feopardous 
 year for him. Tyndale's Works, i. p. 480.
 
 472 HOME IN DANGER. 
 
 Kent had said : " Go to the cardinal and announce his fall } 
 because he has not done what you had commanded him to 
 do."* Other -voices besides hers made themselves heard: 
 the hatred of the nation, the contempt of Europe, and, above 
 all, Henry's anger, told him that his hour was come. It was 
 true the pope said that he would do all in his power to save 
 him ; -j- but Clement's good offices would only accelerate his 
 ruin. Du Bellay, whom the people believed to be the car- 
 dinal's accomplice, bore witness to the change that had taken 
 place in men's minds. While passing on foot through the 
 streets of the capital, followed by two valets, " his ears were 
 so filled with coarse jests as he went along," he said, " that 
 he knew not which way to turn." J " The cardinal is utterly 
 undone," he wrote, " and I see not how he can escape." 
 The idea occurred to Wolsey, from time to time, to pronounce 
 the divorce himself; but it was too late. He was even 
 told that his life was in danger. Fortune, blind and bald, 
 her foot on the wheel, fled rapidly from him, nor was it in 
 his power to stop her. And this was not all : after him (he 
 thought) there was no one who could uphold the church of 
 the pontiffs in England. Tfce ship of Rome was sailing on 
 a stormy sea among rocks and shoals ; Wolsey at the helm 
 looked in vain for a "port of refuge ; the vessel leaked on 
 every side ; it was rapidly sinking, and the cardinal uttered 
 a cry of distress. Alas ! he had desired to save Rome, but 
 Rome would not have it so. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Meeting at Waltham Youth of Thomas Cranmer His early Educa- 
 tion Studies Scripture for three Years His Functions as Examiner 
 the Supper at Waltham New View of the Divorce Fox communi- 
 cates it to Henry Cranmer's Vexation Conference with the King 
 Cranmer at the Boleyns. 
 
 As Wolsey's star was disappearing in the West in the 
 midst of stormy clouds, another was rising in the East, tc 
 
 * Strype, i. p. 373. f Herbert, p. 289. 
 
 J Du Bellay to Mortmorency, 12th October. Le Grand, Preuves,p. 365.
 
 THOMAS CRANMER. 473 
 
 point out the way to save Britain. Men, like stars, appeal 
 on the horizon at the command of God. 
 
 On his return from Woodstock to Greenwich, Henry 
 stopped full of anxiety at Waltham in Essex. His atten- 
 dants were lodged in the houses of the neighbourhood. 
 Fox, the almoner, and Secretary Gardiner, were quartered 
 on a gentleman named Cressy, at Waltham Abbey. When 
 supper was announced, Gardiner and Fox were surprised to 
 see an old friend enter the room. It was Thomas Cran- 
 mer, a Cambridge doctor. "What! is it you?" they said, 
 " and how came you here?" " Our host's wife is my rela- 
 tion," replied Cranmer, " and as the epidemic is raging at 
 Cambridge, I brought home my friend's sons, who are under 
 my care." As this new personage is destined to play an 
 important part in the history of the Reformation, it may be 
 worth our while to interrupt our narrative, and give a par- 
 ticular account of him. 
 
 Cranmer was descended from an ancient family, which 
 came into England, as is generally believed, with the Con- 
 queror. He was born at Aslacton in Nottinghamshire on 
 the 2d July 1489, six years after.Luther. His early educa- 
 tion had been very much neglected ; his tutor, an ignorant 
 and severe priest, had taught him little else than patiently to 
 endure severe chastisement a knowledge destined to be 
 very useful to him in after-life. His father was an honest 
 country gentleman, who cared for little besides hunting, rac- 
 ing, and military sports. At this school, the son learned to 
 ride, to handle the bow and the sword, to fish, and to hawk ; 
 and he never entirely neglected these exercises, which he 
 thought essential to his health. Thomas Cranmer was fond 
 of walking, of the charms of nature, and of solitary medita- 
 tions ; and a hill, near his father's mansion, used often to be 
 shown where he was wont to sit, gazing on the fertile coun- 
 try at his feet, fixing his eyes on the distant spires, listening 
 with melancholy pleasure to the chime of the bells, and in- 
 dulging in sweet contemplations. About 1504, he was sent 
 to Cambridge, where " barbarism still prevailed," says an 
 historian.* His^Iain, noble, and modest air conciliated the 
 
 * Faoda barbaries. Melch. Adam. Vitze TheoL L 
 VOL. V. 21
 
 474 CRANMER'S FIRST MARRIAGE. 
 
 affections of many, and, in 1510, he was elected fellow of 
 Jesus College. Possessing a tender heart, he became at- 
 tached, at the age of twenty-three, to a young person of 
 good birth, (says Foxe,) or of inferior rank, as other writers 
 assert. Cranmer was unwilling to imitate the disorderly 
 lives of his fellow-students, and although marriage would 
 necessarily close the career of honours, he married the young 
 lady, resigned his fellowship (in conformity with the regula- 
 tions), and took a modest lodging at the Dolphin. He then 
 began to study earnestly the most remarkable writings of 
 the times, polishing, it has been said, his old asperity on the 
 productions of Erasmus, of Lefevre of Etaples, and other 
 great authors ; every day his crude understanding received 
 new brilliancy.* He then began to teach in Buckingham 
 (afterwards Magdalene) College, and thus provided for his 
 wants. 
 
 His lessons excited the admiration of enlightened men, 
 and the anger of obscure ones, who disdainfully called him 
 (because of the inn at which he lodged) the hostler. " This 
 name became him well," said Fuller, " for in his lessons he 
 roughly rubbed the backs of the friars, and famously curried 
 the hides of the lazy priests." His wife dying a year after 
 his marriage, Cranmer was re-elected fellow of his old col- 
 lege, and the first writing of Luther's having appeared, he 
 said : " I must know on which side the truth lies. There 
 is only one infallible source, the Scriptures ; in them I will 
 seek for God's truth." f And for three years he constantly 
 studied the holy books, J without commentary, without hu- 
 man theology, and hence he gained the name of the Scrip- 
 turist. At last his eyes were opened ; he saw the mysteri- 
 ous bond which unites all biblical revelations, and under- 
 stood the completeness of God's design. Then without for- 
 saking the Scriptures, he studied all kinds of authors. He 
 
 * Ad eos non aliter quam ad cotem, quotidie priscam detergebat 
 scabritiem. Melch. Adam. Vitse Theol. i. 
 
 f Behold the very fountains. Foxe, viii. p. 4. 
 
 J Totum triennium Sacra Scripturse monumentis perlegendis impendit. 
 M. Adam. p. 1. * 
 
 Like a merchant greedy of all good things. Foxe, riii, p. 4.
 
 CRANMER ON THE DIVORCE. 475 
 
 was a slow reader, but a close observer;* he never opened 
 a book without having a pen in his hand. 7 He did not 
 take up with any particular party or age ; but possessing a 
 free and philosophic mind, he weighed all opinions in the 
 balance of his judgment, { taking the Bible for his standard. 
 
 Honours soon came upon him ; he was made successively 
 doctor of divinity, professor, university preacher, and ex- 
 aminer. He used to say to the candidates for the ministry : 
 *' Christ sendeth his hearers to the Scriptures, and not to the 
 church." "But," replied the monks, "they are so diffi- 
 cult." " Explain the obscure passages by those which are 
 clear," rejoined the professor, " Scripture by Scripture. Seek, 
 pray, and he who has the key of David will open them to 
 you." The monks, affrighted at this task, withdrew burst- 
 ing with anger ; and erelong Cranmer's name was a name 
 of dread in every convent. Some, however, submitted to 
 the labour, and one of them, Doctor Barrett, blessed God 
 that the examiner had turned him back ; " for," said he, " I 
 found the knowledge of God in the holy book he compelled 
 me to study." Cranmer toiled at the same work as Latimer, 
 Stafford, and Bilney. 
 
 Fox and Gardiner having renewed acquaintance with 
 their old friend at Waltham Abbey, they sat down to table, 
 and both the almoner and the secretary asked the doctor 
 what he thought of the divorce. It was the usual topic of 
 conversation, and not long before, Cranmer had been named 
 member of a commission appointed to give their opinion on 
 this affair. " You are not in the right path," said Cranmer 
 to his friends ; " you should not cling to the decisions of the 
 church. There is a surer and a shorter way which alone 
 can give peace to the king's conscience." " What is that ? " 
 they both asked. " The true question is this," replied Cran- 
 mer : " What says the word of God ? If God has declared a 
 marriage of this nature lad, the pope cannot make it good. 
 Discontinue these interminable Roman negotiations. When 
 
 Tardus quidem lector sed vehemens observator. M. Adam. p. 1. 
 f Sine calamo nunquam ad scriptoris cujusquam librum accessit. Ibid. 
 J Omnes omnium opmiones tacito secum judicio trutinabat. Ibid. 
 | Cranmer's Works, p. 17, 18.
 
 476 CBANMER MADE KNOWN TO THE KING. 
 
 God has spcken, man must obey." "But how shall we 
 know what God has said?" "Consult the universities; 
 they will discern it more surely than Rome." 
 
 This was a new view. The idea of consulting the uni- 
 versities had been acted upon before ; but then their own 
 opinions only had been demanded ; now, the question was 
 3imply to know what God says in his word. " The word 'of 
 God is above the church," was the principle laid down by 
 Cranmer, and in that principle consisted the whole of the 
 Reformation. The conversation at the supper-table of 
 Waltham was destined to be one of those secret springs 
 which an invisible Hand sets in motion for the accomplish- 
 ment of his great designs. The Cambridge doctor, suddenly 
 transported from his study to the foot of the throne, was on 
 the point of becoming one of the principal instruments of 
 Divine wisdom. 
 
 The day after this conversation, Fox and Gardiner ar- 
 rived at Greenwich, and the king summoned them into his 
 presence the same evening. " Well, gentlemen," he said to 
 them, " our holidays are over ; what shall we do now ? If 
 we still have recourse to Rome, God knows when we shall 
 see the end of this matter."* " It will not be necessary to 
 take so long a journey," said Fox ; " we know a shorter 
 and surer way." "What is it?" asked the king eagerly. 
 " Doctor Cranmer, whom we met yesterday at Waltham, 
 thinks that the Bible should be the sole judge in your 
 cause." Gardiner, vexed at his colleague's frankness, de- 
 sired to claim all the honour of this luminous idea for him- 
 self; but Henry did not listen to him. " Where, is Doctor 
 Cranmer?" said he, much affected.-}- " Send, and fetch him 
 immediately. Mother of God! (this was his customary 
 oath) this man has the right sow by the ear.:}: If this had 
 only been suggested to me two years ago, what expense and 
 trouble I should have been spared ! " 
 
 Cranmer had gone into Nottinghamshire; a messenger 
 followed and brought him back. " Why have you en- 
 tangled me in this affair?" he said to Fox and Gardiner, 
 
 * God knoAvs, and not I. Foxe, viii. 7. 
 
 t Burnet, vol. i. r> 60. J Ibid.
 
 CRANMER'S CHARACTER. 477 
 
 u Pray make my excuses to the king." Gardiner, who 
 wished for nothing better, promised to do all he could ; but 
 it was of no use. " I will have no excuses," said Henry. 
 The wily courtier was obliged to make up his mind to in- 
 troduce the ingenuous and upright man, to whom that sta- 
 tion, which he himself had so coveted, was one day to 
 belong. Cranmer and Gardiner went down to Greenwich, 
 both alike dissatisfied. 
 
 Cranmer was then forty years of age, with pleasing fea- 
 tures, and mild and winning eyes, in which the candour of 
 his soul seemed to be reflected. Sensible to "the pains as 
 well as to the pleasures of the heart, he was destined to be 
 more exposed than other men to anxieties and falls; a 
 peaceful life in some remote parsonage would have been 
 more to his taste than the court of Henry VIII. Blessed 
 with a generous mind, unhappily he did not possess the 
 firmness necessary in a public man ; a little stone sufficed 
 to make him stumble. His excellent understanding showed 
 him the better way ; but his great timidity made him fear 
 the more dangerous. He was rather too fond of relying 
 upon the power of men, and made them unhappy conces- 
 sions with too great facility. If the king had questioned 
 him, he would never have dared advise so bold a course as 
 that he had pointed out ; the advice had slipped from him 
 at table during the intimacy of familiar conversation. Yet 
 he was sincere, and after doing everything to escape from the 
 consequences of his frankness, he was ready to maintain the 
 opinion he had given. 
 
 Henry, perceiving Cranmer's timidity, graciously ap- 
 proached him. " What is your name?" said the king, en- 
 deavouring to put him at his ease. " Did you not meet 
 my secretary and my almoner at Waltham ? " And then 
 he' added: "Did you not speak to them of my great affair?" 
 repeating the words ascribed to Cranmer. The latter 
 could not retreat : " Sir, it is true, I did say so." " I see," 
 replied the king with animation, " that you have found the 
 breach through which we must storm the fortress. Now, 
 sir doctor, I beg you, and as you are my subject I command 
 you, to lay aside every other occupation, and to bring my
 
 478 CRANMER MEETS ANNE BOLEYN. 
 
 cause to a conclusion in conformity with the ideas you have 
 put forth. All that I desire to know is, whether my mar- 
 riage is contrary to the laws of God or net. Employ all 
 your skill in investigating the subject, and thus bring comfort 
 to my conscience as well as to the queen's."* 
 
 Cranmer was confounded; he recoiled from the idea of 
 deciding an affair on which depended, it might be, the 
 destinies of the nation, and sighed after the lonely fields of 
 Aslacton. But grasped by the vigorous hand of Henry, he 
 was compelled to advance. " Sir," said he, " pray intrust 
 this matter to doctors more learned than I am." " I am 
 very willing," answered the king, " but I desire that you 
 will also give me your opinion in writing." And then sum- 
 moning the earl of Wiltshire to his presence, he said to him: 
 " My lord, you will receive Doctor Cranmer into your house 
 at Durham Place, and let him have all necessary quiet to 
 compose a report for which I have asked him." After this 
 precise command, which admitted of no refusal, Henry 
 withdrew. 
 
 In this manner was Cranmer introduced by the king to 
 Anne Boleyn's father, and not, as some Romanist authors 
 have asserted, by Sir Thomas Boleyn to the king.-J- Wilt- 
 shire conducted Cranmer to Durham House (now the Adelphi 
 in the Strand), and the pious doctor, on whom Henry had 
 imposed these quarters, soon contracted a close friendship 
 with Anne and her father, and took advantage of it to teach 
 them the value of the divine word, as the pearl of great 
 price.\ Henry, while profiting by the address of a Wolsey 
 and a Gardiner, paid little regard to the men; but he re- 
 spected Cranmer, even when opposed to him in opinion, and 
 until his death placed the learned doctor above all his cour- 
 tiers and all his clerks. The pious man often succeeds 
 better, even with the great ones of this world, than the am- 
 bitious and the intriguing. 
 
 * For the discharging of both our consciencies. Foxe, viii. p. 8. 
 f Sanders, p. 57 ; Lingard, vol. vi. chap. iii. Compare Foxe, vol. viii. 
 p 8. 
 J Teque nobilis illius margaritse desiderio teneri. Erasm. Epp. p. 1754.
 
 WOLSEY IN THE COURT OF CHANCERY. 479 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 vVolsey in the Court of Chancery Accused by the Dukes Refuses to 
 give up the Great Seal His Despair He gives up the Seal Order to 
 depart His Inventory Alarm The Scene of Departure Favourable 
 Message from the King Wolsey's Joy His Fool Arrival at Esher. 
 
 WHILE Cranmer was rising notwithstanding his humility, 
 Wolsey was falling in despite of his stratagems. The car- 
 dinal still governed the kingdom, gave instructions to am- 
 bassadors, negotiated with princes, and filled his sumptuous 
 palaces with his haughtiness. The king could not make up 
 his mind to turn him off; the force of habit, the need he had 
 of him, the recollection of the services Henry had received 
 from him, pleaded in his favour. Wolsey without the seals 
 appeared almost as inconceivable as the king without his 
 crown. Yet the fall of one of the most powerful favourites 
 recorded in history was inevitably approaching, and we must 
 now describe it. 
 
 On the 9th of October, after the Michaelmas vacation, 
 Wolsey, desirous of showing a bold face, went and opened 
 the high court of chancery with his accustomed pomp; but 
 he noticed, with uneasiness, that none of the king's servants 
 walked before him, as they had been accustomed to do. 
 He presided on the bench with an inexpressible depression 
 of spirits, and the various members of the court sat before 
 him with an absent air; there was something gloomy and 
 solemn in this sitting, as if all were taking part in a funeral ; 
 it was destined indeed to be the last act of the cardinal's 
 power. Some days before (F oxe says on the 1st of October) 
 the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, with other lords of the 
 privy-council, had gone down to Windsor, and denounced to 
 the king Wolsey's unconstitutional relations with the pope, 
 his usurpations, " his robberies, and the discords sown by 
 his means between Christian princes."* Such motives 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency, 22d October. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 
 377.
 
 480 THE CARDINAL'S LAST SITTING. 
 
 would not have sufficed; but Henry had stronger. Wolsey 
 had not kept any of his promises in the matter of the 
 divorce; it would even appear that he had advised the pope 
 to excommunicate the king, and thus raise his people against 
 him.* This enormity was not at that time known hy the 
 prince; it is even probable that it did not take place until 
 later. But Henry knew enough, and he gave his attorney- 
 general, Sir Christopher Hales, orders to prosecute Wolsey. 
 
 Whilst the heart-broken cardinal was displaying his 
 authority for the last time in the court of chancery, the 
 attorney-general was accusing him in the king's bench for 
 having obtained papal bulls conferring on him a jurisdiction 
 which encroached on the royal power ; and calling for the 
 application of the penalties of prcemunire. The two dukes 
 received orders to demand the seals from Wolsey ; and the 
 latter, informed of what had taken place, did not .quit his 
 palace oh the 10th, expecting every moment the arrival of 
 the messengers of the king's anger ; but no one appeared. 
 
 The next day the two dukes arrived : " It is the king's 
 good pleasure," said they to the cardinal, who remained 
 seated in his arm-chair, " that you give up the broad seal 
 to us and retire to Esher" (a country-seat near Hampton 
 Court). Wolsey, whose presence of mind never failed him, 
 demanded to see the commission under which they were 
 acting. " We have our orders from his majesty's mouth," 
 said they. " That may be sufficient for you," replied the 
 cardinal, " but not for me. The great seal of England was 
 delivered to me by the hands of my sovereign ; I may not 
 deliver it at the simple word of any lord, unless you can 
 show me your commission." Suffolk broke out into a pas- 
 sion, but Wolsey remained calm, and the two dukes re- 
 turned to Windsor. This was the cardinal's last triumph. 
 
 The rumour of his disgrace created an immense sensation 
 at court, in the city, and among the foreign ambassadors. 
 Du Bellay hastened to York Place (Whitehall) to contem- 
 plate this great ruin and console his unhappy friend. He 
 found Wolsey, with dejected countenance and lustreless 
 eyes, " shrunk to half his wonted size," wrote the ambas- 
 * Ranke, Deutsche Geschichte, iii. p. 140.
 
 HE GIVES r:' THE GREAT SEAL. 481 
 
 sador to Montmorency, "the greatest example of fortune 
 nhich was ever beheld." Wolsey desired " to set forth his 
 case" to him ; but his thoughts were confused, his language 
 broken, " for heart and tongue both failed him entirely;" he 
 burst into tears. The ambassador regarded him with com- 
 passion : "Alas!" thought he, "his enemies cannot but 
 foel pity for him." At last the unhappy cardinal recovered 
 his speech, but only to give way to despair. " I desire no 
 more authority," he exclaimed, " nor the pope's legation, nor 
 the broad seal of England I am ready to give up every- 
 thing, even to my shirt.* I can live in a hermitage, 
 
 provided the king does not hold me in disgrace." The am- 
 bassador " did all he could to comfort him," when Wolsey, 
 catching at the plank thrown out to him, exclaimed: "Would 
 that the king of France and madame might pray the king 
 to moderate his anger against me. But, above all," lie 
 added in alarm, " take care the king never knows that I 
 have solicited this of you." Du Bellay wrote indeed to 
 France, that the king and madame alone could " withdraw 
 their affectionate servant from the gates of hell ; " and Wolsey 
 being informed of these despatches, his hopes recovered a 
 little. But this bright gleam did not last long. 
 
 On Sunday the 17th of October, Norfolk and Suffolk re- 
 appeared at Whitehall, accompanied by Fitzwilliam, Taylor, 
 and Gardiner, Wolsey's former dependant. It was six in 
 the evening ; they found the cardinal in an upper chamber, 
 near the great gallery, and presented the king's orders to 
 him. Having read them, he said : " I am happy to obey 
 his majesty's commands;" then, having ordered the great 
 seal to be brought him, he took it out of the white leather 
 case in which he kept it, and handed it to the dukes, who 
 placed it in a box, covered with crimson velvet, and orna- 
 mented with the arms of England,-}- ordered Gardiner to seal 
 it up with red wax, and gave it to Taylor to convey to the 
 king. 
 
 Wolsey was thunderstruck; he was to drink the bitter 
 cup even to the dregs : he was ordered to leave his palace 
 
 Du Bellay to Montmorency. L Grand, Preuves, p. 371. 
 t In quadam theca de veluto crimisino. Rymer Act. p. 138. 
 
 21* T
 
 482 WOLSEY'S LAST HOPES. 
 
 forthwith, taking with him neither clothes, linen, nor plate ; 
 the dukes had feared that he would convey away his treas- 
 ures. Wolsey comprehended the greatness of his misery ; 
 he found strength however to say: " Since it is the king's 
 good pleasure to take my house and all it contains, I am 
 content to retire to Esher." The dukes left him. 
 
 Wolsey remained alone. This astonishing man, who had 
 risen from a butcher's shop to the summit of earthly great- 
 ness who, for a word that displeased him, sent his master's 
 most faithful servants (Pace for instance) to the Tower, 
 and who had governed England as if he had been its mon- 
 arch, and even more, for he had governed without a parliar 
 ment was driven out, and thrown, as it were, upon a 
 dunghill. A sudden hope flashed like lightning through 
 his mind ; perhaps the magnificence of the spoils would 
 appease Henry. Was not Esau pacified by Jacob's present? 
 Wolsey summoned his officers : " Set tables in the great 
 gallery," he said to them, " and place on them all I have 
 intrusted to your care, in order to render me an account." 
 These orders were executed immediately. The tables were 
 covered with an immense quantity of rich stuffs, silks and 
 velvet? of all colours, costly furs, rich copes and other 
 ecclesiastical vestures ; the walls were hung with cloth of 
 gold and silver, and webs of a valuable stuff named baudy- 
 kin,* from the looms of Damascus, and with tapestry, 
 representing scriptural subjects or stories from the old 
 romances of chivalry. The gilt chamber and the council 
 ;.hamber, adjoining the gallery, were both filled with plate, 
 .11 which the gold and silver were set with pearls and pre- 
 cious stones : these articles of luxury were so abundant that 
 basketfuls of costly plate, which had fallen out of fashion, 
 were stowed away under the tables. On every table was an 
 exact list of the treasures with which it was loaded, for the 
 most perfect order and regularity prevailed in the cardinal's 
 household. Wolsey cast a glance of hope upon this wealth, 
 and ordered his officers to deliver the whole to his majesty. 
 
 * Baldekinum, pannus omnium ditissimus cujus utpote stamen ex filo 
 auri, subtegmeu ex serico texitnr, plumario opere intertextus. Ducange'a 
 Glossary.
 
 WOLSEY LEAVES WHITEHALL. 483 
 
 He then prepared to leave his magnificent palace. That 
 moment, of itself so sad, was made sadder still by an act of 
 affectionate indiscretion. " Ah, my lord," said his treasurer, 
 Sir William Gascoigne, moved even to tears, " your grace 
 will be sent to the Tower." This was too much for Wolsey : 
 to go and join his victims! He grew angry, and ex- 
 claimed : " Is this the best comfort you can give your 
 master in adversity ? I would have you and all such blas- 
 phemous reporters know that it is untrue." 
 
 It was necessary to depart ; he put round his neck a 
 chain of gold, from which hung a pretended relic of the 
 true cross; this was all he took. "Would to God," he 
 exclaimed, as he placed it on, "that I had never had 
 any other." This he said, alluding to the legate's cross 
 which used to be carried before him with so much pomp. 
 He descended the back stairs, followed by his servants, 
 some silent and dejected, others weeping bitterly, and 
 proceeded to the river's brink, where a barge awaited 
 him. But, alas! it was not alone. The Thames was 
 covered with innumerable boats full of men and women. 
 The inhabitants of London, expecting to see the cardinal led 
 to the Tower, desired to be present at his humiliation, and 
 prepared to accompany -him. Cries of joy hailing his fall 
 were heard from every side ; nor were the crudest sarcasms 
 wanting. " The butcher's dog will bite no more," said some ; 
 " look, how he hangs his head." In truth, the unhappy man, 
 distressed by a sight so new to him, lowered those eyes 
 which were once so proud, but now were filled with bitter 
 tears. This man, who had made all England tremble, was 
 then like a withered leaf carried along the stream. All his 
 servants were moved ; even his fool, William Patch, sobbed 
 like the rest. "0, wavering and newfangled multitude," 
 exclaimed Cavendish, his gentleman usher.* The hopes of 
 the citizens were disappointed ; the barge, instead of descend- 
 ing the river, proceeded upwards in the direction of Hamp- 
 ton Court ; gradually the shouts died away, and the flotilla 
 dispersed. 
 
 The silence of the river permitted Wolsey to indulge in 
 ' Cavendish, Wolsey, p. 251.
 
 484 HENRY'S GRACIOUS MESSAGE. 
 
 less bitter thoughts ; but it seemed as if invisible furies were 
 pursuing him, now that the people had left him. He left his 
 barge at Putney, and mounting his mule, though with 
 difficulty, proceeded slowly with downcast looks. Short- 
 ly after, upon lifting his eyes, he saw a horseman riding 
 rapidly down the hill towards them. " Whom do you think 
 it can be? " he asked of his attendants. " My lord," replied 
 one of them, " I think it is Sir Henry Norris." A flash of 
 joy passed through Wolsey's heart. Was it not Norris, 
 who, of all the king's officers, had shown him the most 
 respect during his visit to Grafton ? Norris came up with 
 them, saluted him respectfully, and said : " The king bids 
 me declare that he still entertains the same kindly feelings 
 towards you, and sends you this ring as a token of his con- 
 fidence." Wolsey received it with a trembling hand : it was 
 that which the king was in the habit of sending on impor- 
 tant occasions. The cardinal immediately alighted from his 
 mule, and kneeling down in the road, raised his hands to 
 heaven with an indescribable expression of happiness. The 
 fallen man would have pulled off his velvet under-cap, but 
 unable to undo the strings, he broke them, and threw it on 
 the ground. He remained on his knees bareheaded, praying 
 fervently _amidst profound silence. God's forgiveness had 
 never caused Wolsey so much pleasure as Henry's. 
 
 Having finished his prayer, the cardinal put on his cap, 
 and remounted his mule. " Gentle Norris," said he to the 
 king's messenger, " if I were lord of a kingdom, the half of 
 it would scarcely be enough to reward you for your happy 
 tidings ; but I have nothing left except the clothes on my 
 back." Then taking off his gold chain: "Take this," he 
 said, " it contains a piece of the true cross. In my happier 
 days I would not have parted with it for a thousand pounds." 
 The cardinal and Norris separated : but Wolsey soon stopped, 
 and the whole troop halted on the heath. The thought 
 troubled him greatly that he had nothing to send to the 
 king ; he called Norris back, and, looking round him, saw, 
 mounted on a sorry horse, poor William Patch, who had lost 
 all his gaiety since his master's misfortune. " Present this 
 poor jester to the king from me," said Wolsey to Norris :
 
 WOLSEY'S JESTER. 485 
 
 ** liis buffooneries are a pleasure fit for a prince ; he is worth 
 a thousand pounds." Patch, offended at being treated thus, 
 burst into a violent passion ; his eyes flashed fire, he foamed 
 at the mouth, he kicked and fought, and bit all who ap- 
 proached him ;* but the inexorable Wolsey, who looked upon 
 him merely as a toy, ordered six of his tallest yeomen to lay 
 hold of him. They carried off the unfortunate creature, who 
 long continued to utter his piercing cries. At the very 
 moment when his master had had pity on him, Wolsey, like 
 the servant in the parable, had no pity on his poor companion 
 in misfortune. 
 
 At last they reached Esher. What a residence compared 
 
 with Whitehall! It was little more than four bare walls. 
 
 The most urgent necessaries were procured from the neigh- 
 bouring houses, but Wolsey could not adapt himself to this 
 cruel contrast. Besides, he knew Henry VIII. ; he knew 
 that he might send Norris one day with a gold ring, and the 
 executioner the next with a rope. Gloomy and dejected, he 
 remained seated in his lonely apartments. On a sudden he 
 would rise from his seat, walk hurriedly up and down, speak 
 aloud to himself, and then, falling back in his chair, he would 
 weep like a child. This man, who formerly had shaken 
 kingdoms, had been overthrown in the twinkling of an eye, 
 and was now atoning for his perfidies in humiliation and 
 terror, a striking example of God's judgment. 
 
 * The poor fool took on, and fired so in such a rage. Cavendish, p. 257.
 
 486 LORD CHANCELLOR MORE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Thomas More elected Chancellor A lay Government one of the great 
 Facts of the Reformation Wolsey accused of subordinating England 
 to the Pope He implores the King's Clemency His Condemnation 
 Cromwell at Esher His Character He sets out for London Sir 
 Christopher Hales recommends him to the King Cromwell's Interview 
 with Henry in the Park A new Theory Cromwell elected Member 
 of Parliament Opened by Sir Thomas More Attack on ecclesiastical 
 Abuses Reforms pronounced by the Convocation Three Bills Ro- 
 chester attacks them Resistance of the House of Commons Struggles 
 Henry sanctions the three Bills Alarm of the Clergy and Distur- 
 bances. 
 
 DURING all this time everybody was in commotion at 
 court. Norfolk and Suffolk, at the head of the council, had 
 informed the Star Chamber of the cardinal's disgrace. Henry 
 knew not how to supply his place. Some suggested the 
 archbishop of Canterbury ; the king would not hear of him. 
 " Wolsey," says a French writer, " had disgusted the king 
 and all England with those subjects of two masters who, 
 almost always, sold one to the other. They preferred a lay 
 minister." " I verily believe the priests will never more ob- 
 tain it," wrote Du Bellay. The name of Sir Thomas More 
 was pronounced. He was a layman, and that quality, 
 which a few years before would, perhaps, have excluded 
 him, was now a recommendation. A breath of Protest- 
 antism wafted to the summit of honours one of its greatest 
 enemies. Henry thought that More, placed between the 
 pope and his sovereign, would decide in favour of the inter- 
 ests of the throne, and of the independence of England. His 
 choice was made. 
 
 More knew that the cardinal had been thrown aside be- 
 cause he was not a sufficiently docile instrument in the 
 matter of the divorce. The work required of him was con- 
 trary to his convictions 5 but the honour conferred on him 
 was almost unprecedented ; very seldom indeed had the
 
 IS INSTALLED BY NORFOLK. 487 
 
 seals been intrusted to a mere knight.* He followed the 
 path of ambition and not of duty ; he showed, however, in 
 after-days that his ambition was of no common sort. It is 
 even probable that, foreseeing the dangers which threat- 
 ened to destroy the papal power in England, More wished 
 to make an effort to save it. Norfolk installed the new 
 chancellor in the Star Chamber. " His majesty," said the 
 duke, "has not cast his eyes upon the nobility of the 
 blood, but on the worth of the person. He desires to show 
 by this choice that there are among the laity and gentle- 
 men of England, men worthy to fill the highest offices in 
 the kingdom, to which, until this hour, bishops and noble- 
 men alone think they have a right." -j- The Reformation, 
 which restored religion to the general body' of the church, 
 took away at the same time political power from the clergy. 
 The priests had deprived the people of Christian activity, 
 and the governments of power ; the gospel restored to both 
 what the priests had usurped. This result could not but be 
 favourable to the interests of religion ; the less cause kings 
 and their subjects have to fear the intrusion of clerical power 
 into the affairs of the world, the more will they yield them- 
 selves to the vivifying influence of faith. 
 
 More lost no time ; never had lord-chancellor displayed 
 such activity. He rapidly cleared off^the cases which were 
 in arrear, and having been installed on the 26th of October 
 he called on Wolsey's cause on the 28th or 29th. "The 
 crown of England," said the attorney-general, " has never 
 acknowledged any superior but God. \ Now, the said Tho- 
 mas Wolsey, legate a latere, has obtained from the pope 
 certain bulls, by virtue of which* he has exercised since the 
 28th of August 1523 an authority derogatory to his ma- 
 
 It has been often asserted that Sir Thomas More was the first lay* 
 man to whom the office of chancellor was intrusted ; but there were no 
 less than six between A. D. 1342 and 1410 ; viz. Sir Robert Boucher, 
 knight ; Sir Robert de Thorp, knight ; Sir R. de la Scrope, knight ; Sir 
 M. de la Pole ; R, Neville, Earl of Salisbury ; and Sir T. Beaufort, knight. 
 
 t More's Life, p. 172. 
 
 The crown of England, free at all times, has been in no earthly sub- 
 lection, but immediately subject to God in all things. Herbert, p. 251. 
 !See also Articles of Impeachment, 1.
 
 488 WOLSEY'S REAL CRIME. 
 
 jesty's power, and to the rights of his courts of justice. The 
 crown of England cannot be put under the pope ; and we 
 therefore accuse the said legate of having incurred the pen- 
 alties of prcemunirc." 
 
 There can be no doubt that Henry had other reasons foi 
 Wolsey's disgrace than those pointed out by the attorney- 
 general; but England had convictions of a higher nature 
 than her sovereign'? VYolaey was regarded as the pope's, 
 accomplice, and this was the cause of the great severity 
 of the public officer and of the people. The cardinal is gen- 
 erally excused by alleging that both king and parliament haO 
 ratified the unconstitutional authority with which Rome hao 
 invested him; but had not the powers conferred on him 
 by the pope produced unjustifiable results in a consti 
 tutional monar, hy ? Wolsey, as papal legate, had gov- 
 erned England without a parliament ; and, as if the nation 
 had gone back to the reign of John, he had substituted de 
 facto, if not in iheory, the monstrous syelem of the famous 
 bull Unam Sa.nctam* for the institution of Magna, Ghana. 
 The king, and even the lords and commons, had connived in 
 vain at these illegalities ; the rights of the constitution of 
 England remained not the less inviolable, and the best of the 
 people had protested against their infringement. And hence 
 it was that Wolsey, conscious of his crime, " put himself 
 wholly to the mercy and grace of the king," {- and his coun- 
 sel declared his ignorance of the statutes he was said to 
 have infringed. "We cannot here allege, as some have done, 
 the prostration of Wolsey's moral powers ; he could, even 
 after his fall, reply with energy to Henry VIII. When, foi 
 instance, the king sent to demand for the crown his palace of 
 Whitehall, which belonged to the see of York, the cardinal 
 answered : " Show his majesty from me that I must desire 
 him to call to his most gracious remembrance that there is 
 both a heaven and a hell;" and when other charges besides 
 those of complicity with the papal aggression were brought 
 against him, he defended himself courageously, as will be 
 
 * Since the 13th of Nov. 1302. Raynold ad ann. Uterque ergo gla- 
 dius est in potestate ecclesiac, spiritualis scilicet et materialis. 
 t Cavendish, p. 276.
 
 HIS CONDEMNATION. 489 
 
 afterwards seen. If, therefore, the cardinal did not attempt 
 to justify himself for infringing the rights of the crown, it 
 was because his conscience bade him be silent. He had 
 committed one of the gravest faults of which a statesman 
 can be guilty. Those who have sought to excuse him have 
 not sufficiently borne in mind that, since the Great Charter, 
 opposition to Romish aggression has always characterized 
 the constitution and government of England. Wolsey per- 
 fectly recollected this ; and this explanation is more honour- 
 able to him than that which ascribes his silence to weakness 
 or to cunning. 
 
 The cardinal was pronounced guilty, and the court passed 
 judgment, that by the statute of prcemunire his property 
 was forfeited, and that he might be taken before the king 
 in council. England, by sacrificing a churchman who had 
 placed himself above kings, gave a memorable example of 
 her inflexible opposition to the encroachments of the papacy. 
 Wolsey was confounded, and his troubled imagination con- 
 jured up nothing but perils on every side. 
 
 While More was lending himself to the condemnation of 
 his predecessor, whose friend he had been, another layman 
 of still humbler origin was preparing to defend the cardinal, 
 and by that very act to become the appointed instrument 
 to throw down the convents in England, and to shatter the 
 seculai bonds which united this country to the Roman 
 pontiff. 
 
 On the 1st of November, two days after Wolsey's condem- 
 nation, one of his officers, with a prayer-book in his hand, 
 was leaning against the window in the great hall, apparently 
 absorbed in his devotions. " Good-morrow," said Caven- 
 dish as he passed him, on his way to the cardinal for his 
 usual morning duties. The person thus addressed raised 
 his head, and the gentleman-usher, seeing that his eyes 
 were filled with tears, asked him : " Master Cromwell, is my 
 lord in any danger?" "I think not," replied Cromwell, 
 " but it is hard to lose in a moment the labour of a life." 
 In his master's fall-Cromwell foreboded his own. Cavendish 
 endeavoured to console him. " God willing, this is my re- 
 solution," replied Wolsey's ambitious solicitor ; " I intend 
 
 x2
 
 490 CROMWELL'S RESOLUTION. 
 
 this afternoon, as soon as my lord has dined, to ride to Lon- 
 don, and so go to court, where I will either make or mar be- 
 fore I come back again."* At this moment Cavendish was 
 summoned, and he entered the cardinal's chamber. 
 
 Cromwell, devoured by ambition, had clung to Wolsey's 
 robe in order to attain power ; but Wolsey had fallen, and 
 the- solicitor, dragged along with him, strove to reach by 
 other means the object of his desires, Cromwell was one 
 of those earnest and vigorous men whom God prepares 
 for critical times. Blessed with a solid judgment and intre- 
 pid firmness, he possessed a quality rare in every age, and 
 particularly under Henry VIII., fidelity in misfortune. The 
 ability by which he was distinguished, was not at all times 
 without reproach : success seems to have been his first 
 thought. 
 
 After dinner Cromwell followed Wolsey into his private 
 room : " My lord, permit me to go to London, I will en- 
 deavour to save you." A gleam passed over the cardinal's 
 saddened features. " Leave the room," he said to his at- 
 tendants. He then had a long private conversation with 
 Cromwell,-}- at the end of which the latter mounted his horse 
 and set out for the capital, riding to the assault of power 
 with the same activity as he had marched to the attack 
 of Rome. He did not hide from himself that it would be 
 difficult to procure access to the king ; for certain eccle- 
 siastics, jealous of Wolsey, had spoken against his solicitor 
 at the time of the secularization of the convents, and Henry 
 could not endure him. But Cromwell knew that fortune 
 favours the bold, and, carried away by his ambitious dreams, 
 he galloped on, saying to himself: " One foot in the stirrup, 
 and my fortune is made ! " 
 
 Sir Christopher Hales, a zealous Roman-catholic, enter- 
 tained a sincere friendship for him ; and to this friend 
 Cromwell applied. Hales proceeded immediately to the 
 palace (2d November) where he found a numerous com- 
 pany talking about the cardinal's ruin. " There was one 
 of his officers,'' said Hales, " who would serve your majesty 
 
 " Cavendish, p. 280. 
 
 t Long communication with my lord in secret. Ibid. p. 270.
 
 CROMWELL'S INTERVIEW WITH HENRY. 491 
 
 well." "Who is he?" asked Henry. " Cromwell." " Do 
 not speak to me of that man, I hate him," replied the king 
 angrily ; * and upon that all the courtiers chimed in with his 
 majesty's opinion. This opening was not very encouraging; 
 but Lord Russell, earl of Bedford, advancing to the midst of 
 the group around the king, said boldly : f " Permit me, Sir, 
 to defend a man to whom I am indebted for my life. When 
 you sent me privately into Italy, your majesty's enemies, 
 having discovered me at Bologna, would have put me to 
 death, had not Thomas Cromwell saved me. Sir, since you 
 have now to do with the pope, there is no man (I think) in 
 all England who will be fitter for your purpose." " Indeed!" 
 said the king; and after a little reflection, he said to Hales: 
 " Very well then, let your client meet me in Whitehall gar- 
 dens." The courtiers and the priests withdrew in great dis- 
 comfiture. 
 
 The interview took place the same day at the appointed 
 spot. " Sir," said Cromwell to his majesty, " the pope re- 
 fuses your divorce But why do you ask his consent? 
 
 Every Englishman is master in his own house, and why 
 should not you be so in England ? Ought a foreign pre- 
 late to share your power with you ? It is true, the bishops 
 make oath to your majesty, but they make another to the 
 pope immediately after, which absolves them from the for- 
 mer. Sir, you are but half a king, and we are but half 
 your subjects. J This kingdom is a two-headed monster. 
 Will you bear with such an anomaly any longer? What! 
 are you not living in an age when Frederick the Wise and 
 other German princes have thrown off the yoke of Rome ? 
 Do likewise; become once more a king; govern your king- 
 dom in concert with your lords and commons. Hencefor- 
 ward let Englishmen alone have any thing to say in England ; 
 lef not your subjects' money be cast any more into the 
 yawning gulf of the Tiber; instead of imposing new taxes 
 on the nation, convert to the general good those treasures 
 which have hitherto only served to fatten proud priests and 
 
 * The kin/? began to detest the mention of him. Foxe, v. p. 366. 
 
 t In a vehement boldness. Ibid. p. 367. 
 
 Ibid. See also Apol. Regin. Poli ad Car. i. p. 120, 121.
 
 492 CROMWELL'S ADVICE PLEASES HENRY. 
 
 lazy friars. Now is the moment for action. Rely upon 
 your parliament ; proclaim yourself the head of the church 
 in England. Then shall you see an increase of glory to 
 your name, and of prosperity to your people." 
 
 Never before had such language been addressed to a king 
 of England. It was not only on account of the divorce that 
 it was necessary to break with Rome ; it was, in Cromwell's 
 view, on account of the independence, glory, and prosperity 
 of the monarchy. These considerations appeared more im- 
 portant to Henry than those which had hitherto been laid 
 before him ; none of the kings of England had been so well 
 placed as he was to understand them. When a Tudor had 
 succeeded to the Saxon, Norman, and Plantagenet kings, a 
 man of the free race of the Celts had taken on the throne of 
 England the place of princes submissive to the Roman pon- 
 tiffs. The ancient British church, independent of the papacy, 
 was about to rise again with this new dynasty, and the Cel- 
 tic race, after eleven centuries of humiliation, to recover its 
 ancient heritage. Undoubtedly, Henry had no recollections 
 of this kind ; but he worked in conformity with the peculiar* 
 character of his race, without being aware of the instinct 
 which compelled him to act. He felt that a sovereign who 
 submits to the pope, becomes, like King John, his vassal ; 
 and now, after having been the second in his realm, he de- 
 sired to be the first. 
 
 The king reflected on what Cromwell had said ; aston- 
 ished and surprised, he sought to understand the new posi- 
 tion which his bold adviser had made for him. " Your pro- 
 posal pleases me much," he said ; "but can you prove what 
 you assert?" " Certainly," replied this able politician;"! 
 have with me a copy of the oath the bishops make to the 
 Roman pontiff." With these words he drew a paper from 
 his pocket, and placed the oath before the king's eye?. 
 Henry, jealous of his authority even to despotism, was filled 
 with indignation, and felt the necessity of bringing down 
 that foreign authority which dared dispute the power with 
 him, even in his own kingdom. He drew off his ring and 
 gave it to Cromwell, declaring that he took him into his 
 service, and soon after made him a member of his privy
 
 MEETING OP PARLIAMENT. 493 
 
 council. England, we may say, was now virtually emanci- 
 pated from the papacy. 
 
 Cromwell had laid the first foundations of his greatness. 
 He had remarked the path his master had followed, and 
 which had led to his ruin, complicity with the pope ; and he 
 hoped to succeed by following the contrary course, namely, 
 by opposing the papacy. He had the king's support, but he 
 wanted more. Possessing a clear and easy style of elo- 
 quence, he saw what influence a seat in the great "council 
 of the nation would give him. It was somewhat late, for 
 the session began on the next day (3d November), but to 
 Cromwell nothing was impossible. The son of his friend, 
 Sir Thomas Rush, had been returned to parliament; but the 
 young member resigned his seat, and Cromwell was elected 
 in his place. 
 
 Parliament had not met for seven years, the kingdom hav- 
 ing been governed by a prince of the Roman church. The 
 reformation of the church, whose regenerating influence 
 began to be felt already, was about to restore to the na- 
 tion those ancient liberties of which a cardinal had robbed it; 
 and Henry being on the point of taking very important reso- 
 lutions, felt the necessity of drawing nearer to his people. 
 Everything betokened that a good feeling would prevail 
 between the parliament and the crown, and that " the priests 
 would have a terrible fright."* 
 
 While Henry was preparing to attack the Roman church 
 in the papal supremacy, the commons were getting ready to 
 war against the numerous abuses with which it had covered 
 England. " Some even thought." says Tyndale, " that this 
 assembly would reform the church, and that the golden age 
 would come again."-}- But it w^s not from acts of parliament 
 that the Reformation was destined to proceed, but solely from 
 the word of God. And yet the commons, without touching 
 upon doctrine, were going to do their duty manfully in things 
 within their province, and the parliament of 1529 may be 
 regarded (Lord Herbert of Cherbury observes) as the first 
 
 * Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 378, 380. 
 t Works, L p. 481.
 
 494 THREE BILLS OF REFORM. 
 
 Protestant parliament of England.* "The bishops require 
 excessive fines for the probates of wills," said Tyndale's old 
 friend, Sir Henry Guilford. " As testamentary executor to 
 Sir William Compton I had to pay a thousand marks ster- 
 ling." " The spiritual men," said another member, "would 
 rather see the poor orphans die of hunger than give them the 
 lean cow, the only thing their father left them."f " Priests," 
 said another, "have farms, tanneries, and warehouses, all 
 over the country. In short, the clerks take everything from 
 their flocks, and not only give them nothing, but even deny 
 them the word of God." 
 
 The clergy were in utter consternation. The power of the 
 nation seemed to awaken in this parliament for the sole 
 purpose of attacking the power of the priest. It was im- 
 portant to ward off these blows. The convocation of the 
 province of Canterbury, assembling at "Westminster on the 
 5th of November, thought it their duty, in self-defence, to 
 reform the most crying abuses. It was therefore decreed, on 
 the 12th of November, that the priests should no longer keep 
 shops or taverns, play at dice or other forbidden games, pass 
 the night in suspected places, be present at disreputable 
 shows,* go about with sporting dogs, or with hawks, falcons, 
 or other birds of prey, on their fist ; or, finally, hold sus- 
 picious intercourse with women.|| Penalties were denounced 
 against these various disorders ; they were doubled in case 
 of adultery ; and still further increased in the case of more 
 abominable impurities.^ Such were the laws rendered ne- 
 cessary by the manners of the clergy. 
 
 These measures did not satisfy the commons. Three bills 
 were introduced having reference to the fees on the probate 
 
 * It was the first step, a great and bold sally towards thai reforma- 
 tion. Herbert, p. 320. 
 
 f- Rather than give to them the silly cow, if he had but only one 
 Foxe, iv. p. 611. 
 
 J Quod non exerceant tabernas, nee ludant taxillis vel aliis ludis pro- 
 hibitis ; quod non pernoctent in locis suspectis ; quod non intersint in- 
 honestis spectaculis, &c. Convocatio przelatorum. Wilkins, Concilia 
 iii. p. 717. 
 
 Canes venaticos loris ducere ac accipitres manibus. Ibid. p. 723. 
 
 H Mulierum colloquia snspecta nullatenus habeant. Ibid. p. 722. 
 
 ^f Et in cfeteris carnis spurcitiis pcena crescat. Ibid. p. 721.
 
 THE KING'S CONSENT. 495 
 
 of wills, mortuaries, pluralities, non-residence, and the exer- 
 cise of secular professions. "-The destruction of the church 
 is aimed at," exclaimed Bishop Fisher, when these bills were 
 carried to the lords, " and if the church falls, the glory of 
 the kingdom will perish. Lutheranism is making great pro- 
 gress amongst us, and the savage cry that has already 
 echoed in Bohemia, Down with the church, is now uttered by 
 
 the commons How does that come about ? Solely from 
 
 want of faith. My lords, save your country! save the 
 church!" Sir Thomas Audley, the speaker, with a deputa- 
 tion of thirty members, immediately went to Whitehall. 
 " Sir," they said to the king, " we are accused of being with- 
 out faith, and of being almost as bad as the Turks. We de- 
 mand an apology for such offensive language." Fisher pre- 
 tended that he only meant to speak of the Bohemians; and 
 the commons, by no means satisfied, zealously went on with 
 their reforms. 
 
 These the king was resolved to concede ; but he deter- 
 mined to take advantage of them to present a bill mak- 
 ing over to him all the money borrowed of his subjects. 
 John Petit, one of the members for the city, boldly op- 
 posed this demand. " I do not know other persons' affairs," 
 he said, "and I cannot give what does not belong to 
 me. But as regards myself personally, I give without re- 
 serve all that I have lent the king." The royal bill passed, 
 and the satisfied Henry gave his consent to the bills of the 
 commons. Every dispensation coming from Rome, which 
 might be contrary to the statutes, was strictly forbidden. 
 ' The bishops exclaimed that the commons were becoming 
 schismatical ; disturbances were excited by certain priests ; 
 but the clerical agitators were punished, and the people, 
 when they heard of it, were delighted beyond measure.
 
 496 JOY OF THE BELIEVERS t ALARM OF THE CLERGY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The last Hour More's Fanaticism Debates in Convocation Royal 
 Proclamation The Bishop of Norwich Sentences condemned La- 
 timer's Opposition The New Testament Burnt The Persecution be- 
 gins Hitton Bayfield Tonstall and Packington Bayfield arrested 
 The Rector Patmore Lollards' Tower Tyndale and Patmore a 
 Musician Freese the Painter Placards and Martyrdom of Bennet 
 Thomas More and John Petit Bilney. 
 
 THE moment when Henry aimed his first blows at Rome 
 was also that in which he began to shed the blood of the 
 disciples of the gospel. Although ready to throw off the 
 authority of the pope, he would not recognise the authority 
 of Christ : obedience to the Scriptures is, however, the very 
 soul of the Reformation. 
 
 The king's contest with Rome had filled the friends of 
 Scripture with hope. The artisans and tradesmen, parti- 
 cularly those who lived near the sea, were almost wholly 
 won over to the gospel. " The king is one of us," they used 
 to boast ; " he wishes his subjects to read the New Testa- 
 ment. Our faith, which is the true one, will circulate through 
 the kingdom, and by Michaelmas next those who believe as 
 we do will be more numerous than those of a contrary opin- 
 ion. We are ready, if needs be, to die in the struggle."* 
 This was indeed to be the fate of many. 
 . Language such as this aroused the clergy: " The last hour 
 has come," said Stokesley, who had been raised to the see of 
 London after Tonstall' s translation to Durham ; " if we 
 would not have Luther's heresy pervade the whole of Eng- 
 land, we must hasten to throw it in the sea." Henry was 
 /ully disposed to do so ; but as he was not on very good 
 terms with the clergy, a man was wanted to serve as media- 
 tor between him and the bishops. He was soon found. 
 
 * The bishop of Norwich to Primate Warham, 14th May 1530. Cotton 
 MSS. Cleopatra, E. v. folio 360 ; Bible Annals, i. p. 256.
 
 T1IE BISHOPS* DEMAND. 497 
 
 Sir Thomas More's noble understanding was then passing 
 from ascetic practices to fanaticism, and the humanist turn- 
 ing into an inquisitor. In his opinion, the burning of here- 
 tics was just and necessary.* He has even been reproached 
 with binding evangelical Christians to a tree in his garden, 
 which he called " the tree of truth," and of having flogged 
 them with his own hand.f More has declared that he never 
 gave " stripe nor stroke, nor so much as a fillip on the fore- 
 head," to any of his religious adversaries ; \ and we willingly 
 credit his denial. All must be pleased to think that if the 
 author of the Utopia was a severe judge, the hand which 
 held one of the most famous pens of the sixteenth century 
 never discharged the duties of an executioner. 
 
 The bishops led the attack. " We must clear the Lord's 
 field of the thorns which choke it," said the archbishop of Can- 
 terbury to Convocation on the 29th of November 1529 ; 
 immediately after which the bishop of Bath read to his col- 
 leagues the list of books that he desired to have condemned. 
 There were a number of works by TynMale, Luther, Me- 
 lancthon, Zwingle, (Ecolampadius, Pomeranus, Brentius, 
 Bucer, Jonas, Francis Lambert, Fryth, and Fish. The 
 Bible in particular was set down. " It is impossible to 
 translate the Scripture into English," said one of the pre- 
 lates, [j u It is not lawful for the laity to read it in their 
 mother tongue," said another. " If you tolerate the Bible," 
 added a third, " you will make us all heretics." " By circu- 
 lating the Scriptures," exclaimed several, " you will raise up 
 the nation against the king." Sir T. More laid the bishops' 
 petition before the king, and some time after, Henry gave 
 orders by proclamation that " no one should preach, or write 
 any book, or keep any school without his bishop's license ; 
 that no one should keep any heretical book in his house ; 
 
 * More's Works ; A Dialogue concerning Heresies, p. 274. 
 
 f- Strype's Mem. vol. i. p. 315 ; Foxe, iv. p. 698. 
 
 J Apology, ch. xxxvi. p. 901, 902. 
 
 Sec the catalogue in Wilkins' Concilia, p. 713 to 7-0. Wilkins is of 
 opinion (p. 71" note) that this document belongs to theyrar 1529. There 
 are, howv.'tr, some portions of these slaluta which have evident reference 
 to the year foi lowing. 
 
 || Tyndale's Works, voL i. p. 1. 
 VOL. T. 22
 
 498 LATIMER SEEKS CHRIST'S VOICE. 
 
 that the bishops should detain the offenders in prison at their 
 discretion, and then proceed to the execution of the guilty ; 
 and, finally, that the chancellor, the justices of the peace, 
 and other magistrates, should aid and assist the bishops."* 
 Such was the cruel proclamation of Henry VIII, " the father 
 of the English Reformation. 
 
 The clergy were not yet satisfied. The blind and octo- 
 genarian bishop of Norwich, being more ardent than the 
 youngest of his priests, recommenced his complaints. " My 
 diocese is accumbered with such as read the Bible," said he 
 to the archbishop of Canterbury, " and there is not a clerk 
 from Cambridge but savoureth of the frying-pan. If this 
 continues any time, they will undo us all. We must have 
 greater authority to punish them than we have." 
 
 Consequently, on the 24th of May 1530, More, Warham, 
 Tonstall, and Gardiner having been admitted into St Ed- 
 ward's chamber at Westminster, to make a report to the 
 king concerning heresy, they proposed forbiding, in the most 
 positive manner, the New Testament and certain other books 
 in which the following doctrines were taught : " That Christ 
 has shed his blood for our iniquities, as a sacrifice to the 
 Father. Faith only doth justify us. Faith without good 
 works is no little or weak faith, it is no faith. Labouring in 
 good works to come to heaven, thou dost shame Christ's 
 blood."f 
 
 Whilst nearly every one in the audience-chamber supported 
 the prayer of tfce petition, there were three or four doctors who 
 kept silence. At last one of them, it was Latimer, opposed 
 the proposition. Bilney's friend was more decided than ever 
 to listen to no other voice than God's. " Christ's sheep hear 
 no man's voice but Christ's," he answered Dr Redman, who 
 had called upon him to submit to the church ; " trouble me 
 no more from the talking with the Lord my God."| The 
 church, in Latimer's opinion, presumed to set up its own voice 
 in the place of Christ's, and the Reformation did the con- 
 trary ; this was his abridgment of the controversy. Being 
 
 Foxe, iv. p. 677, 678. 
 
 f Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 728-731. 
 
 Latimer s Remain^ p. 297.
 
 CLERICAL TEACHING UPHELD. 499 
 
 called upon to preach during Christmas tide, he had cen- 
 sured his hearers because they celebrated that festival by 
 playing at cards, like mere worldlings, and then proceeded to 
 lay before their eyes Christ's cards, that is to say, his laws.* 
 Being placed on the Cambridge commission to examine into 
 the question of the king's marriage, he had conciliated the 
 esteem of Henry's deputy, Doctor Butts, the court physician 
 who had presented him to his master, by whose orders he 
 preached at Windsor. 
 
 Henry felt disposed at first to yield something to Latimer. 
 " Many of my subjects," said he to the prelates assembled in 
 St Edward's hall, " think that it is my duty to cause the Scrip- 
 tures to be translated and given to the people." The discus- 
 sion immediately began between the two parties ;f and 
 Latimer concluded by asking "that the Bible should be 
 permitted to circulate freely in English." f "But the most 
 part overcame the better," he tells us." Henry declared 
 that the teaching of the priests was sufficient for the people, 
 and was content to add, " that he would give the Bible to 
 his subjects when they renounced the arrogant pretension of 
 interpreting it according to their own fancies." " Shun these 
 hooks," cried the priests from the pulpit, " detest them, keep 
 them not in your hands, deliver them up to your superiors." || 
 Or if you do not, your prince, who has received from God the 
 sword of justice, will use it to punish you." Rome had every 
 reason to be satisfied with Henry VIII. Tonstall, who still 
 kept under lock and key the Testaments purchased at Ant- 
 werp through Packington's assistance, ha'ci them carried to 
 St Paul's churchyard, where they were publicly burnt. The 
 spectators retired shaking the head, and saying: "The 
 teaching of the priests and of Scriptures must be in contra- 
 diction to each other, since the prtests destroy them." Lati- 
 mer did more : " You have promised us the word of God," 
 he wrote courageously to the king; "perform your promise 
 now rather than to-morrow ! The day is at hand when you 
 shall give an account of your office, and of the blood that 
 
 * Sermons, p. 8. t Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 736. 
 
 t Latimer's Remains, p. 305. Ibid. 
 
 y Wilkins, Concilip, iii. p. 736.
 
 500 BAYFIELD IMPORTS THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 hath been shed with your sword."* Latimer well knew thai 
 by such language he hazarded his life; but that he was 
 ready to sacrifice, as he tells us himself.-}- 
 
 Persecution soon came. Just as the sun appeared to be 
 rising on the Reformation, the storm burst forth. " There 
 was not a stone the bishops left unrcmoved," says the 
 chronicler, " any corner unsearched, for the diligent execu- 
 tion of the king's proclamation whereupon ensued a grie- 
 vous persecution and slaughter of the faithful." J 
 
 Thomas Hitton, a poor and pious minister of Kent, used 
 to go frequently to Antwerp to purchase New Testaments. 
 As he was returning from one of these expeditions, in 1529, 
 the bishop of Rochester caused him to be arrested at Graves- 
 end, and put to the cruelest tortures, to make him deny his 
 faith. But the martyr repeated with holy enthusiasm : 
 " Salvation cometh by faith and not by works, and Christ 
 giveth it to whomsoever he willeth." || On the iOth of Feb- 
 ruary 1530, he was tied to the stake and there burnt to 
 death.^ 
 
 Scarcely were Hitton's sufferings ended for bringing the 
 Scriptures into England, when a vessel laden with New 
 Testaments arrived at Colchester. The indefatigable Bay- 
 field, who accompanied these books, sold them in London, 
 went back to the continent, and returned to England in 
 November ; but this time the Scriptures fell into the hands 
 of Sir Thomas More. Bayfield, undismayed, again visited 
 the Low Countries, and soon reappeared, bringing with him 
 the New Testament and the works of almost all the Re- 
 formers. " How cometh it that there are so many New 
 Testaments from abroad ? " asked Tonstall of Packington ; 
 " you promised me that you would buy them all." " They 
 have printed more since,"' replied the wily merchant ; " and 
 it will never be better so long as they have letters and 
 
 * Latimer's Remains, p. 308. 
 
 f I had rather suffer extreme punishment. Ibid. p. 298. 
 J Foxe, vol. iv. p. 679. 
 
 Dieted and tormented him secretly. Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p. 485. 
 || For the constant and manifest testimony of Jesus Christ and of big 
 free grace and salvation. Foxe, vol. iv. p. 619. 
 *[ The bishops murdered him most cruelly. Tyndale, vol. i. p. 485.
 
 BAYFIELD IK PRISON WITH PATMORE. 501 
 
 stamps [type and dies.] My lord, you had better buy the 
 stamps too, and so you shall be sure."* 
 
 Instead of the stamps, the priests sought after Bayfield. 
 The bishop of London could not endure this godly man. 
 Having one day asked Bainham (who afterwards suffered 
 martyrdom) whether he knew a single individual who, since 
 the days of the apostles, had lived according to the true 
 faith in Jesus Christ, the latter answered: u Yes, I know 
 Bayfield." -j- Being tracked from place to place, he fled 
 from the house of his pious hostess, and hid himself at his 
 binder's, where he was discovered, and thrown into the 
 Lollard's tower. J 
 
 As he entered the prison Bayfield noticed a priest named 
 Patmore, pale, weakened by suffering, and ready to sink 
 under the ill treatment of his jailers. Patmore, won over 
 by Bayfield's piety, soon opened his heart to him. When 
 rector of Haddam, he had found the truth in Wickliffe's 
 writings. " They have burnt his bones," he said, " but 
 from his ashes shall burst forth a well-spring of life." De- 
 lighting in good works, he used to fill his granaries with 
 wheat, and when the markets were high, he would send his 
 corn to them in such abundance as to bring down the prices. || 
 " It is contrary to the law of God to burn heretics," he said ; 
 and growing bolder, he added : " I care no more for the 
 pope's curse than for a bundle of hay." ^[ 
 
 His curate, Simon Smith, unwilling to imitate the disor- 
 derly lives oT the priests, and finding Joan Bennore, the 
 rector's servant, to be a discreet and pious person, desired to 
 marry her. " God," said Patmore, " has declared marriage 
 lawful for all men ; and accordingly it is permitted to the 
 priests in foreign parts." ** The rector alluded to Wittem- 
 berg, where he had visited Luther. After his marriage 
 Smith and his wife quitted England for a season, a'nd Pat- 
 more accompanied them as far as London. 
 
 Foxe, vol. ir. p. 670. 
 
 T Ibid. p. 699. J Ibid. p. 681. 
 
 Ibid. vol. v. p. 34. || Ibid. vol. ir. p. GS1. 
 
 H Ibid. 
 
 * Yet it was in other countries beyond sea Ibid.
 
 502 BAYF1ELD IN THE COAL-CELLAK. 
 
 The news of this marriage of a priest a fact without pre- 
 cedent in England made Stokesley throw Patmore into the 
 Lollards' tower, and although he was ill, neither fire, light, 
 nor any other comfort was granted him. The bishop and 
 his vicar-general visited him alone in his prison, and en- 
 deavoured by their threats, to make him deny his faith. 
 
 It was during these circumstances that Bayfield was 
 thrust into the tower. By his Christian words he revived 
 Patmore's languishing faith,* and the latter complained to 
 the king that the bishop of London prevented his feeding 
 the flock which God had committed to his charge. Stokes- 
 ley, comprehending, whence Patmore derived his new cour- 
 rage,f removed Bayfield from the Lollards' tower, and shut 
 him up in the coal-house, where he was fastened upright to the 
 wall by the neck, middle, and legs.:): The unfortunate gos- 
 peller of Bury passed his time in continual darkness, never 
 lying down, never seated, but nailed as it were to the wall, 
 and never hearing the sound of human voice. We shall 
 see him hereafter issuing from this horrible prison to die 
 on the scaffold. 
 
 Patmore was not the only one in his family who suffered 
 persecution ; he had in London a brother named Thomas, a 
 friend of John Tyndale, the younger brother of the celebrated 
 reformer. Thomas had said that the truth of Scripture was 
 at last reappearing in the world, after being hidden for 
 many ages ; and John Tyndale had sent five marks to his 
 brother William, and received letters from him*. Moreover, 
 the two friends (who were both tradesmen) had distributed a 
 great number of Testaments and other works. But their 
 faith was not deeply rooted, and it was more out of sympathy 
 for their brothers that they had believed ; accordingly, Stokes- 
 ley, so completely entangled them, that they confessed th^ir 
 " crime." More, delighted at the opportunity which offered 
 to cover the name of Tyndale with shame, was not satisfied 
 with condemning the two friends to pay a fine of 100 
 <*4ch ; he invented a new disgrace. He sewed on their dress 
 
 * Confirmed by him in the doctrine. Foxe, vol. iv. p. 6K. 
 + Confirmed him iu the doctrine. Ibid. p. C8. 
 $ Ibid. Ibid. v. p. 34.
 
 EDWARD FREESE GOES MAD. 503 
 
 some sheets of the New Testament which they had circu- 
 lated, placed the two penitents on horseback with their faces 
 towards the tail, and thus paraded them- through the streets 
 of London, exposed to the jeers and laughter of the popu- 
 lace. In this, More succeeded better than in his refutation 
 of the reformer's writings. 
 
 From that time the persecution became more violent. 
 Husbandmen, ajtists, tradespeople, and even noblemen, felt 
 the cruel fangs of the clergy and of Sir Thomas More. They 
 sent to jail a pious musician who used to wander from town 
 to town, singing to his harp a hymn in commendation of 
 Martin Luther and of the Reformation.* A painter, named 
 Edward Freese, a young man of ready wit, having been en- 
 gaged to paint some hangings in a house, wrote on the bor- 
 ders certain sentences of the Scripture. For this he was 
 seized and taken to the bishop of London's palace at Fulham, 
 and there imprisoned, where his chief nourishment was bread 
 made out of sawdust.-}- His poor wife, who was pregnant, 
 went down to Fulham to see her husband ; but the bishop's 
 porter had orders to admit no one, and the brute gave her so 
 violent a kick, as to kill her unborn infant, and cause the 
 mother's death not long after. The unhappy Freese was re- 
 moved to the Lollards' tower, where he was put into chains, his 
 hands only being left free. With these he took a piece of coal, 
 and wrote some pious sentences on the wall ; upon this he was 
 manacled, but his wrists were so severely pinched, that the 
 flesh grew up higher than the irons. His intellect became 
 disturbed ; his hair in wild disorder soon covered his face, 
 through which his eyes glared fierce and haggard. The 
 want of proper food, bad treatment, his wife's death, and 
 his lengthened imprisonment, entirely undermined his rea- 
 son ; when brought to St Paul's, he was kept three days 
 without meat ; and when he appeared before the consis- 
 tory,, the poor prisoner, silent and scarce able to stand, looked 
 around and gazed upon the spectators " like a wild man." 
 The examination was begun, but to every question put to 
 
 His name was Robert Lambe. Foxe, v. p. 34. 
 f- Fed with fine manchet made of sawdust, or at least a great part 
 thereof. Ibid. iv. p. 695.
 
 504 AGITATION IN EXETER. 
 
 him, Freese made the same answer : " My Lord is a good 
 man." They could get nothing from him but this affecting 
 reply. Alas ! the light shone no more upon his understand- 
 ing, but the love of Jesus was still in his heart. He was 
 sent back to Bearsy Abbey, where he did not remain long ; 
 but he never entirely recovered his reason.* Henry VIII. 
 and his prieSH inflicted punishments still more cruel even 
 than the stake. 
 
 Terror began to spread far and wide. The most 'active 
 evangelists had been compelled to flee to a foreign land ; 
 some of the most godly were in prison ; and among those in 
 high station there were many, and perhaps Latimer was one, 
 who seemed willing to shelter themselves under an exagger- 
 ated moderation. But just as the persecution in London had 
 succeeded in silencing the most timid, other voices more 
 courageous were raised in the provinces. The city of Exeter 
 was at that time in great agitation ; placards had been dis- 
 covered on the gates of the cathedral containing some of the 
 principles "of the new doctrine." "While the mayor and his 
 officers were seeking after the author of these "blasphemies," 
 the bishop and all his doctors, " as hot as coals," says the 
 chronicler, f were preaching in the most fiery style. On the 
 following Sunday, during the sermon, two men who had been 
 the busiest of all the city in searching for the author of the 
 bills were struck by the appearance of a person seated near 
 them. " Surely this fellow is the heretic," they said. But 
 their neighbour's devotion, for he did not take his eyes off 
 his book, quite put them out; they did not perceive that ho 
 was reading the New Testament in Latin. 
 
 This man, Thomas Bennet, was indeed the offender. 
 Being converted at Cambridge by the preaching of Bilney, 
 whose friend he was, he had gone to Torrington for fear of 
 the persecution, and thence to Exeter, and after marrying to 
 avoid unchastity (as he says),| he became schoolmaster. 
 Quiet, humble, courteous to every body, and somewhat timid, 
 Bennet had lived six years in that city without his faith being 
 discovered. At last his conscience being awakened, he re- 
 
 * Foxe, iv. p. 695. ' f Ibid. v. p. 19. 
 
 J Ut ne scortator aut immundus essem,uxorem duxi. Ibid, p.lQ,
 
 THOMAS BENNET. 505 
 
 solved to fasten by night to the cathedral gates certain evan- 
 gelical placards. " Everybody will read the writing," he 
 thought, and " nobody will know the writer." He did as he 
 had proposed. 
 
 Not long after the Sunday on which he had been so nearly 
 discovered, the priests prepared a great pageant, and made 
 ready to pronounce against the unknown heretic the great 
 curse, "with book, bell, and candle." The cathedral was 
 crowded, and Bennet himself was among the spectators. In 
 the middle stood a great cross on which lighted tapers were 
 placed, and around it were gathered all the Franciscans and 
 Dominicans of Exeter. One of the priests having delivered 
 a sermon on the words : There is an accursed thing in the 
 midst ofthee, Israel* the bishop drew near the cross and 
 pronounced the curse against the offender. He took one of 
 the tapers and said : " Let the soul of the unknovn heretic, 
 if he be dead already, be quenched this night in the pains of 
 hell-fire, as this candle is now quenched and put out ;" and 
 with that he put out the candle. Then taking off a second, 
 he continued : " and let us pray to God, if he be yet alive, 
 that his eyes be put cut, and that all the senses of his body 
 may fail him, as now the light of this candle is gone;" ex- 
 tinguishing the second candle. After this, one of the priests 
 went up to the cross and struck it, when the noise it made 
 in falling re-echoing along the roof so frightened the specta- 
 tors that they uttered a shriek r f terror, and held up their 
 hands to heaven, as if to pray that the divine curse might 
 not fall on them. Bennet, a witness of this comedy, could 
 not forbear smiling. "What are you laughing at?" asked 
 his neighbours ; " here is the heretic, here is the heretic, hold 
 him fast." This created great confusion among the crowd, 
 some shouting, some clapping their hands, others running 
 to and fro ; but, o\ving to the tumult, Bennet succeeded in 
 making his escape. 
 
 The excommunication did but increase his desire to at- 
 tack the Romish superstitions; and accordingly, before five 
 o'clock the next morning (it was in the month of October 
 1530), his servant-boy fastened up again by his orders ou 
 Jcehua, vii. 13. 
 22*
 
 506 DISCUSSIONS WITH BENNET. 
 
 the cathedra] gates some placards similar to those which had 
 been torn down. It chanced that a citizen going to early 
 mass saw the boy, and running up to him, caught hold of 
 him and pulled down the papers ; and then dragging the boy 
 with one hand, and with the placards in the other, he went 
 to the mayor of the city. Bonnet's servant was recognised ; 
 his master was immediately arrested, and put in the stocks, 
 "with as much favour as a dog would find," says Foxe. 
 
 Exeter seemed determined to make itself the champion 
 of sacerdotalism in England. For a whole week, not 
 only the bishop, but all the priests and friars of the city, 
 visited Bennet night and day. But they tried in vain to 
 prove to him that the Roman church was the true one. 
 " God has given me grace to be of a better church," he said. 
 " Do you not know that ours is built upon St Peter?" 
 "The church that is built upon a man," he replied, "is the 
 devil's church and not God's." His cell was continually 
 thronged with visitors ; and, in default of arguments, the 
 most ignorant of the friars called the prisoner a heretic, and 
 spat upon him. At length they brought to him a learned 
 doctor of theology, who, they supposed, would infallibly con- 
 vert him. "Our ways are God's ways," said the doctor 
 gravely. But he soon discovered that theologians can 
 do nothing against the word of the Lord. " He only is my 
 way," replied Bennet, " who saith, 1 am the way, the truth, 
 and the life. In his way \vill I walk ; his truth will I em- 
 brace ; his everlasting life will I seek." 
 
 He was condemned to be burnt; and More having trans- 
 mitted the order de comburendo with the utmost speed, the 
 priests placed Bennet in the hands of the sheriff on the 15th 
 of January 1531, by whom he was conducted to the Livery- 
 dole, a field without the city, where the stake was pre- 
 pared. When Bennet arrived at the place of execution, he 
 briefly exhorted the people, but with such unction, that the 
 sheriff's clerk, as he heard him, exclaimed : " Truly this is 
 a servant of God." Two persons, however, seemed un- 
 moved : they were Thomas Carew, and John Barnehouse, 
 both holding the station of gentlemen. Going up to the 
 martyr, they exclaimed in a threatening voice : " Say, Pre~
 
 HIS MARTYRDOM. 507 
 
 cor sanctam Mariam et omnes fanctos Dei" " I know no 
 other advocate but Jesus Christ," replied Bennet. Barne- 
 house was so enraged at these words, that he took a furze-bush 
 upon a pike, and setting it on fire, thrust it into the mar- 
 tyr's face, exclaiming: "Accursed heretic, pray to our Lady, 
 or I will make you do it." " Alas !" replied Bennet patient- 
 ly, "trouble me not;" and then holding up his hands, he 
 prayed : " Father, forgive them !" The executioners imme- 
 diately set fire to the wood, and the most fanatical of the 
 spectators, both men and women, seized with an indescrib- 
 able fury, tore up stakes and bushes, and whatever they 
 could lay their hands on, and flung them all into the flames 
 to increase their violence. Bennet, lifting up his eyes to hea- 
 ven, exclaimed : " Lord, receive my spirit." Thus died, in 
 the Sixteenth century, the disciples of the Reformation sacri- 
 ficed by Henry VIII. 
 
 The priests, thanks to the king's sword, began to count 
 on victory; yet schoolmasters, musicians, tradesmen, and 
 even ecclesiastics, were not enough for them. They wanted 
 nobler victims, and these were to be looked for in London. 
 More himself, accompanied by the lieutenant of the Tower, 
 searched many of the suspected houses.* Few citizens were 
 more esteemed in London than John Petit, the same who, in 
 the house of commons, had so nobly resisted the king's de- 
 mand about the loan. Petit was learned in history and in 
 Latin literature : he spoke with eloquence, and for twenty 
 years had worthily represented the city. Whenever any 
 important affair was debated in parliament, the king feeling 
 uneasy, was in the habit of inquiring, which side he took ? 
 Tin's political independence, very rare in Henry's parlia- 
 ments, gave umbrage to the prince and his ministers. Petit, 
 the friend of Bilney, Fryth, and Tyndale, had been one of 
 the first in England to taste the sweetness of God's word,f 
 and had immediately manifested that beautiful characteristic 
 by which the gospel faith makes itself known, namely, charity. 
 He abounded in almsgiving, supported a great number of 
 poor preachers of the gospel in his own country and beyond 
 the seas; and whenever he noted down these generous aids in 
 * Strype, i. j>. 812. f Hid.
 
 508 JOHN PETIT, M.P. FOR LONDON. 
 
 his books, he wrote merely the words : " Lent, unto Christ."* 
 He moreover forbade his testamentary executors to call in 
 these debts. 
 
 Petit was tranquilly enjoying the sweets of domestic life in 
 his modest home in the society of his wife and two daughters, 
 Blanche and Audrey, when he received an unexpected visit. 
 One clay, as he was praying in his closet, a loud knock was 
 heard at the street door. His wife ran to open it, but seeing 
 Lord-chancellor More, she returned hurriedly to her hus- 
 band, and told him that the lord-chancellor wanted him. 
 More, who followed her, entered the closet, and with inquisi- 
 tive eye ran over the shelves of the library, but could find 
 nothing suspicious. Presently he made as if he would re- 
 tire, and Petit accompanied him. The chancellor stopped at 
 the door and said to him : "You assert that you have none 
 of these, new books?" "You have seen my library," replied 
 Petit. " I am informed, however," replied More, " that you 
 not only read them, but pay for the printing." And then he 
 added in a severe tone : " Follow the lieutenant." In spite 
 of the tears of his wife and daughters this independent mem- 
 ber of parliament was conducted to the Tower, and shut up 
 in a damp dungeon, where he had nothing but straw to lie 
 upon. His wife went thither each day in vain, asking with 
 tears permission to see him, or at least to send him a bed ; the 
 jailers refused her everything ; and it was only when Petit 
 fell dangerously ill that the latter favour was granted him. 
 This took place in 1580, sentence was passed in 1531 ;}- we 
 shall see Petit again in his prison. He left it, indeed, but 
 only to sink under the cruel treatment he had there ex- 
 perienced. 
 
 Thus were the witnesses to the truth struck down by the 
 priests, by Sir Thomas More, and by Henry VIII. A new 
 victim was to be the cause of many tears. A meek and 
 humble man, one deal to all the friends of the gospel, and 
 whom we may regard as the spiritual father of the Reforma- 
 tion in England, was on the point of mounting the burning 
 pile raised by his persecutors. Some time prior to Petit's 
 appearance before his judges, which took place in 1531, an 
 * Strype, i. p. 314 f IbM- P- 312.
 
 BILNEY SETS HIS FACE TOWARDS JERUSALEM. 509 
 
 unusual noise was heard in the cell above him: it vas 
 Thomas Bilney, whom they were conducting to the Tower.* 
 We left him at the end of 1528 after his fall. Bilney had 
 returned to Cambridge tormented by remorse ; his friends in 
 vain crowded round him by night and by day ; they could 
 not console him, and even the Scriptures seemed to utter no 
 voice but that of condemnation. -J- Fear made him tremble 
 constantly, and he could scarcely cat or drink. At length a 
 heavenly and unexpected light dawned in the heart of the 
 fallen disciple ; a witness whom he had vexed the Holy 
 Spirit spoke once more in his heart. Bilney fell at the foot 
 of the cross, shedding floods of tears, and there he found 
 peace. But the more God comforted him, the greater 
 seemed his crime. One only thought possessed him, that of 
 giving his life for the truth. He had shrunk from before the 
 burning pile; its flames must now consume him. Neither 
 the weakness of his body, which his long anguish had much 
 increased, nor the cruelty of his enemies, nor his natural 
 timidity, nothing could stop him : he strove for the martyr's 
 crown. At ten o'clock one night, when every person in 
 Trinity Hall was retiring to rest, Bilney called his friends 
 round him, reminded them of his fall, and added : " You 
 
 shall see me no more Do not stay me: my decision is 
 
 formed, and I shall carry it out. My face is set to go to 
 Jerusalem.''^ Bilney repeated the words used by the Evan- 
 gelist, when he describes Jesus going up to the city where he 
 was to be put to death. Having shaken hands whh his 
 brethren, this venerable man, the foremost of the evangelists 
 of England in order of time, left Cambridge under cover of 
 the night, and proceeded to Norfolk, to confirm in the faith 
 those who had believed, and to invite the ignorant multitude 
 to the Saviour. We shall not follow him in this last and 
 sol -inn ministry; these facts and others of the same kind 
 Iml./ng to a later date. Before the year 1531 closed in, 
 Bilney, Bainham, Bayficld, Tewkesbury, and many others, 
 
 Ibid. p. 313. 
 
 f He thought that all the while the Scriptures were against 
 Latinier's Sermons, p. 52. 
 ; Fo&c, ir. p. 642. See Luke ix. 51.
 
 510 WOLSEY'S TERROR AT ESHER. 
 
 struck by Henry's sword, sealed by their blood the testi- 
 mony rendered by them to the perfect grace of Christ. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 
 
 Wolsey's Terror Impeachment by the Peers Cromwell saves him 
 The Cardinal's Illness Ambition returns to him His Practices in 
 Yorkshire He is arrested by Northumberland His Departure Ar- 
 rival of the Constable of the Tower Wolsey at Leicester Abbey 
 Persecuting language He dies Three Movements: Supremacy, 
 Scripture, and Faith. 
 
 WHILE many pious Christians were languishing in the 
 prisons of England, the great antagonist of the Reformation 
 was disappearing from the stage of this world. We must 
 return to Wolsey, who was still detained at Eshcr.* 
 
 The cardinal, fallen from the summit of honours, was 
 seized with those panic terrors usually felt after their dis- 
 grace by those who have made a whole nation tremble, and 
 he fancied he saw an assassin lay hid behind every door. 
 u This very night," he wrote to Cromwell on one occasion, 
 " I was as one that should have died. If I might, I would 
 not fail to come on foot to you, rather than this my speak- 
 ing with you shall be put over and delayed. If the dis- 
 pleasure of my lady Anne be somewhat assuaged, as I pray 
 God the same may be, then I pray you exert all possible 
 means of attaining her favour."-}- 
 
 In consequence of this, Cromwell hastened down to Esher 
 two or three days after taking his seat in Parliament, and 
 Wolsey, all trembling, recounted his fears to him. " Norfolk, 
 Suffolk, and Lady Anne perhaps, desire my death.J Did not 
 
 * Burnet and some more modern historians are, in my opinion, mis- 
 taken when they state that Wolsey was present in Parliament at tho 
 clo*e of 1.529. See State Papers, i. p. 347 to 354. 
 
 f- State Papers, vol. i. p. 351, mutilated by fire. 
 
 4. Timebc-.t sibi damnum et pcriculum de corpore suo per quosdam suos 
 semulos. Ryuier, Foodcra, p. 1 39.
 
 GRIEVANCES OF THE PEERS AGAINST WOLSEY. 511 
 
 Thomas 2l Becket, an archbishop like me, stain the altar 
 
 with his Wood?" Cromwell reassured him, and, moved 
 
 by the old man's fears, asked and obtained of Henry an 
 order of protection. 
 
 Wolsey's enemies most certainly desired his death ; but it 
 was from the justice of the three estates, and not by the 
 assassin's dagger, that they sought it. The house of peers 
 authorized Sir Thomas More, the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, 
 and fourteen other lords, to impeach the cardinal-legate of 
 high treason. They forgot nothing : that haughty formula, 
 Ego ct rex meus, I and my king," which "VVolsey had often 
 employed; his infringement of the laws of the kingdom; 
 his monopolizing the church revenues; the crying injus- 
 tice of which he had been guilty, as for instance, in the 
 case of Sir John Stanley, who was sent to prison until ho 
 gave up a lease to the son of a woman who had borne the 
 cardinal two children ; many familias ruined to satisfy his 
 avarice ; treaties concluded with foreign powers without the 
 king's order ; his exactions, which had impoverished Eng- 
 land ; and the foul diseases and infectious breath with which 
 he had polluted his majesty's presence.* These were some 
 of the forty-four grievances presented by the peers to the 
 king, and which Henry sent down to the lower house for 
 their consideration. 
 
 It was at first thought that nobody in the commons 
 would undertake Wolsey's defence, and it was generally ex- 
 pected that he would be given up to the vengeance of the 
 law (as the bill of impeachment prayed), or in other word?, 
 to the axe of the executioner. But one man stood up, and 
 prepared, though alone, to defend the cardinal: this was 
 Cromwell. The members asked of each other, who the un- 
 known man was; he soon made himself known. Ilia 
 knowledge of facts, his familiarity with the laws, the force 
 of his eloquence, and the moderation of his language, sur- 
 prised the house. Wolsey's adversaries had hardly aiuud 
 a blow, before the defender had already parried it. If any 
 charge was brought forward to which he could not reply, he 
 proposed an adjournment until the next day, departed for 
 Article vi. Herbert, p. 235
 
 512 CROMWELL SAVES WOLSEY. 
 
 Esher at the end of the sitting, conferred with "Wolsey, re- 
 turned during the night, and next morning reappeared in the 
 commons with fresh arms. Cromwell carried the house 
 with him ; the impeachment failed, and Wolsey's defender 
 took his station among the statesmen of England. This 
 victory, one of the greatest triumphs of parliamentary elo- 
 quence at that period, satisfied both the ambition and the 
 gratitude of Cromwell. He was now firmly fixed in the 
 king's favour, esteemed by the commons, and admired by 
 the people : circumstances which furnished him with the 
 means of bringing to a favourable conclusion the emancipa- 
 tion of the church of England. 
 
 The ministry, composed of Wolsey's enemies, was annoyed 
 at the decision of the lower house, and appointed a commis- 
 sion to examine into the matter. When the cardinal was 
 informed of this he fell into new terrors. He lost all appe- 
 tite and desire of sleep,* and a fever attacked him at Christ- 
 mas. "The cardinal will be dead in four days," said his 
 physician to Henry, " if he receives no comfort shortly from 
 you and lady Anne." " I would not lose him for twenty thou- 
 sand pounds," exclaimed the king. He desired to preserve 
 Wolsey in case his old minister's consummate ability should 
 become necessary, which was hyno means unlikely. Henry 
 gave the doctor his portrait in a ring, and Anne, at the king's 
 desire, added the tablet of gold that hung at her girdle. 
 The delighted cardinal placed the presents on his bed, and 
 as he gazed on them he felt his strength return. He was 
 removed from his miserable dwelling at Esher to the royal 
 palace at Richmond, arid before long he was able to go into 
 the park, where every night he read his breviary. 
 
 Ambition and hope returned with life. If the king de- 
 sired to destroy the papal power in England, could not the 
 proud cardinal preserve it? Might not Thomas Wolsey do 
 under Henry VIII. what Thomas a Uecket had done under 
 Henry II. His see of York, the ignorance of the priests, 
 the superstition of the people, the discontent of the great, 
 all would be of service to him ; and indeed, six years later, 
 
 * Cum prostratione appetitus et contiuuo insomuio. Wolsey to Gar- 
 <liucr ; Cavendish, Appendix, p. 474.
 
 WOLSEY IN YORKSHIRE. 513 
 
 40,000 men were under arras in a moment in Yorkshire 
 to defend the cause of Rome. Wolsey, strong in England 
 by the support of the nation (such at least was his opinion), 
 aided without by the pope and the continental powers, might 
 give the law to Henry, and crush the Reformation. 
 
 The king having permitted him to go to York, Wolsey 
 prayed for an increase to his archicpiscopal revenues, which 
 amounted, however, to four thousand pounds sterling.* 
 Henry granted him a thousand marks, and the cardinal, 
 shortly before Easter 1530, departed with a train of 160 
 persons. He thought it was the beginning of his triumph. 
 
 Wolsey took up his abode at Cawood Castle, Yorkshire, 
 one of his archiepiscopal residences, and strove to win the 
 affections of the people. This prelate, once " the haughtiest 
 of men," says George Cavendish, the man who knew him and 
 served him best, became quite a pattern of affability. He kept 
 an open table, distributed bounteous alms at his gate, said 
 mass in the village churches, went and dined with the neigh- 
 bouring gentry, gave splendid entertainments, and wrote to 
 several princes imploring their help. We are assured that 
 he even requested the pope to excommunicate Henry VIII. -j- 
 All being thus prepared, he thought he might make his so- 
 lemn entry into York, preparatory to his enthronization, 
 which was fixed for Monday the 5th of November. 
 
 Every movement of his was known at court; every action 
 was canvassed, and its importance exaggerated. " We 
 thought we had brought him down," some said, " and here 
 he is rising up again." Henry himself was alarmed. " The 
 cardinal, by his detestable intrigues," he said, "is conspiring 
 against my crown, and plotting both at home and abroad ;" 
 the king even added, where and how.\ Wolsey's destruc- 
 tion was resolved upon. 
 
 The morning after All Saints day (Friday, 2d November) 
 the earl of Northumberland, attended by a numerous escort, 
 arrived at Cawood, where the cardinal was still residing. 
 
 State Papers, voL i. p. 354. 
 + Hall, p. 773. 
 
 J Cosi mi disse el Re, che contra de S. M. el machinaya nel reguo o 
 fuori, ct m'a detto dove e come. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 529.
 
 514 IS ARRESTED BY NORTHUMBERLAND. 
 
 He was the same Percy whose affection for Anne Bolcyu 
 had been thwarted by Wolsey ; and there may have been 
 design in Henry's choice. The cardinal eagerly moved for- 
 ward to meet this unexpected guest, and impatient to know 
 the object of his mission, took him into his bed-chamber, 
 under the pretence of changing his travelling dress.* They 
 both remained some time standing at a window without 
 uttering a word; the earl looked confused and agitated, 
 whilst Wolsey endeavoured to repress his emotion. But at 
 last, with a strong effort, Northumberland laid his hand upon 
 the arm of his former master, and with a low voice said : 
 " My lord, I arrest you for high treason." The cardinal re- 
 mained speechless, as if stunned. He was kept a prisoner 
 in his room. 
 
 It is doubtful whether Wolsey was guilty of the crime 
 with which he was charged. We may believe that he enter- 
 tained the idea of some day bringing about the triumph of 
 the popedom in England, even should it cause Henry's ruin ; 
 but perhaps this was all. But, an idea is not a conspiracy, 
 although it may rapidly expand into one. 
 
 More than three thousand persons (attracted not by ha- 
 tred, like the Londoners, when Wolsey departed from White- 
 hall but by enthusiasm), collected the next day before the 
 castle to salute the cardinal. " God save your grace," they 
 shouted on every side, and a numerous crowd escorted him 
 at night ; some carried torches in their hands, and all made 
 the air re-echo with their cries. The unhappy prelate was 
 conducted to Sheffield Park, the residence of the earl of 
 Shrewsbury. Some days after his arrival, the faithful Ca- 
 vendish ran to him, exclaiming : " Good news, my lord ! 
 Sir William Kingston and twenty-four of the guard are 
 come to escort you to his majesty." " Kingston !" exclaimed 
 the cardinal, turning pale, " Kingston ! " and then slapping 
 his hand on his thigh, he heaved a deep sigh. This news had 
 crushed his mind. One day a fortune-teller, whom he con- 
 sulted, had told him : You shall have your end at Kingston ; 
 and from that time the cardinal had carefully avoided the town 
 of Kingston-on-Thames. But now he thought he under- 
 * And thero you may shift your apparel. Cavendish, p. 347.
 
 SIR V. KINGSTON ARRIVES. 515 
 
 stood the prophecy Kingston, constable of the Tower, 
 
 was about to cause his death. They left Sheffield Park ; 
 but fright had given Wolsey his death-blow. Several times 
 he was near falling from his mule, and on the third day, 
 when they reached Leicester abbey, he said as he entered : 
 " Father abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among 
 you ;" and immediately took to his bed. This was on Satur- 
 day the 26th of November. 
 
 On Monday morning, tormented by gloomy forebodings, 
 Wolsey asked what was the time of day. " Past eight 
 o'clock," replied Cavendish. " That cannot be," said the car- 
 dinal, " eight o'clock No ! for by eight o'clock you shall 
 
 lose your master." At six on Tuesday, Kingston having 
 come to inquire about his health, Wolsey said to him : " I 
 shall not live long." " Be of good cheer," rejoined the gov- 
 ernor of the Tower. " Alas, Master Kingston," exclaimed 
 the cardinal, " if I had served God as diligently as I have 
 served the king, he would not have given me over in my 
 grey hairs ! " and then he added with downcast head : " This 
 is my just reward." "What a judgment upon his own life ! 
 
 On the very threshold of eternity (for he had but a few 
 minutes more to live) the cardinal summoned up all his hatred 
 against the Reformation, and made a last effort. The per- 
 secution was too slow to please him : " Master Kingston," 
 he said, " attend to my last request : tell the king that I 
 conjure him in God's name to destroy this new pernicious 
 sect of Lutherans." And then, with astonishing presence 
 of mind in this his last hour, Wolsey described the misfor- 
 tunes which the Hussites had, in his opinion, brought upon 
 Bohemia; and then, coming to England, he recalled the 
 times of Wickliffe and Sir John Oldcastle. He grew ani- 
 mated ; his dying eyes yet shot forth fiery glances. He 
 trembled lest Henry VIII., unfaithful to the pope, should 
 hold out his hand to the Reformers. " Master Kingston," 
 said he, in conclusion, " the king should know that if lie 
 tolerates heresy, God will take away his power, and we shall 
 
 then have mischief upon mischief barrenness, scarcity, 
 
 and disorder, to the utter destruction of this realm." 
 
 Wolsey was exhausted by the effort. After a momentary
 
 516 WOLSEY'S DEATH HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 silence, he resumed with a dying voice : " Master ^Kingston, 
 farewell ! My time draweth on fast. Forget not what I 
 have said and charged you withal ; for when I am dead ye 
 shall pcrad venture understand my words better." It was 
 with 'difficulty he uttered these words ; his tongue hegan to 
 falter, his eyes became fixed, his sight failed him ; he breathed 
 his last. At the same minute the clock struck eight, and the 
 attendants standing round his bed looked at each other in 
 affright. It was the 29th of November 1530. 
 
 Thus died the man once so much feared. Power had 
 been his idol : to obtain it in the state, lie had sacrificed the 
 liberties of England ; and to win it or to preserve it in the 
 church, he had fought against the Reformation. If he en- 
 couraged the nobility in the luxuries and pleasures of life, 
 it was only to render them more supple and more servile; if 
 lie supported learning, it was only that he might have 
 a clergy fitted to keep the laity in their leading-strings. 
 Ambitious, intriguing, and impure of life, he had been as 
 zealous for the sacerdotal prerogative as the austere Becket; 
 and by a singular contrast, a shirt of hair was found on the 
 body of this voluptuous man. The aim of his life had 
 been to raise the papal power higher than it had ever 
 been before, at the very moment when the Reforma- 
 tion was attempting to bring it down; and to take his scat 
 on the pontifical throne with more than the authority of 
 a Hihlebrand. Wolscy, as pope, would have been (he 
 man of his age ; and in the political world he would have 
 doneVor the Roman primacy what the celebrated Loyola did 
 for it soon after by his fanaticism. Obliged to renounce this 
 idea, worthy only of the middle ages, he had desired at least 
 to save the popcdom in his own country ; but here again he 
 had failed. The pilot who had stood in England at the helm 
 of the Romish church was thrown overboard, and the ship, 
 left to itself, was about to founder. And yet, even in death, 
 he did not lose his courage. The last throbs of his heart had 
 called for victims ; the last words from his failing lips, the 
 
 last message to his master, his last testament had been 
 
 Persecution. This testament was to be only too faitlifully 
 executed.
 
 THERE MOTEMENTS. 517 
 
 The epoch of the fall and death of Cardinal Wolsey, which 
 13 the point at which we halt, was not only important, be- 
 cause it ended the life of a man who had presided over the 
 destinies of England, and had endeavoured to grasp the 
 sceptre of the world; but it is of especial consequence, because 
 then three movements were accomplished, from which the 
 great transformation of the sixteenth century was to proceed. 
 Each of these movements has its characteristic result. 
 
 The first is represented by Cromwell. The supremacy of 
 the pope in England was about to be wrested from him, as 
 it was in all the reformed churches. But a step further was 
 taken in England. That supremacy was transferred to the 
 person of the king. Wolsey had exercised as vicar-general 
 a power till then unknown. Unable to become pope at the 
 Vatican, he had made himself a pope at Whitehall. Henry 
 had permitted his minister to raise this hierarchical throne by 
 the side of his own. But he had soon discovered that there 
 ought not to be two thrones in England, or at least not two 
 kings. He had dethroned Wolsey ; and resolutely seating 
 himself in his place, he was about to assume at Whitehall 
 that tiara which the ambitious prelate had prepared for him- 
 self. Some persons, when they saw this, exclaimed, that if 
 the papal supremacy were abolished, that of the word of God 
 ought alone to be substituted. And, indeed, the true Refor- 
 mation is not to be found in this first movement. 
 
 The second, which was essential to the renewal of the 
 church, was represented by Cranmer, and consisted particu- 
 larly in re-establishing the authority of holy Scripture. Wol- 
 sey did not fall alone, nor did Cranmer rise alone : each of 
 these two men carried with him the systems he represented. 
 The fabric of Roman traditions fell with the first ; the foun- 
 dations of the holy Scriptures were laid by the second ; and 
 yet, while we render all justice to the sincerity of the Cam- 
 bridge doctor, we must not be blind to his weaknesses, his 
 subserviency, and even a certain degree of negligence, which, 
 by allowing parasitical plants to shoot up here and there, 
 permitted them to spread over the living rock of God's word. 
 Not in this movement, then, was found the Reformation with 
 all its energy and all its purity.
 
 518 OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN. 
 
 The third movement was represented by the martyrs. 
 When the church takes a new life, it is fertilized by the blocd 
 of its confessors ; and being continually exposed to corrup- 
 tion, it has constant need to be purified by suffering.* Not 
 in the palaces of Henry VIII., nor even in the councils 
 where the question of throwing off the papal supremacy was 
 discussed, must we look for the true children of the Refor- 
 mation ; we must go to the Tower of London, to the Lollards' 
 towers of St Paul's and of Lambeth, to the other prisons of 
 England, to the bishops' cellars, to the fetters, the stocks, the 
 rack, and the stake. The godly men who invoked the sole 
 intercession of Christ Jesus, the only head of his people, Avho 
 wandered up and down, deprived of everything, gagged, 
 scoffed at, scourged, and tortured, and who, in the midst of 
 all their tribulations, preserved their Christian patience, and 
 turned, like their Master, the eyes of their faith towards 
 Jerusalem : these were the disciples of the Reformation in 
 England. The purest church is the church under the cross. 
 
 The father of this church in England was not Henry VIII. 
 When the king cast into prison or gave to the flames men 
 like Hitton, -Bennet, Patmore, Petit, Bayfield, Bilney,and so 
 many others, he was not " the father of the Reformation ol 
 England," as some have so falsely asserted ; he was its exe- 
 cutioner. 
 
 The church of England was foredoomed to be, in its reno- 
 vation, a church of martyrs ; and the true father of this 
 church is our Father which is in heaven. 
 
 * t Peter iv. 17. Plerumque ecclesia est coetus exiguus sustinens Ta/ 
 riis et ingentes aerumnas, Melancthon, loci. 
 
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