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. 300-600 Men love to know the exact date at which great events happened. They like to mark down such dates in their The beginning calendar, and to commemorate the anniversaries of Christianity of important incidents. So we commemorate m Britain. t^e decjs;ve battles of the past, Trafalgar and Waterloo. But great events may happen and leave no recorded dates behind. Great movements have taken place in the world, and no person can say, Here and at such a time this movement began. "The best things," it has been said, "grow, and none can tell when the growth began." It was so with the beginning of the Christian faith in these islands. No one can really tell when the story of Jesus Christ was first told to the wild, untutored people who lived here. There must have been a beginning. There must have been a day when someone lifted up his voice and told our forefathers the most wonderful and beautiful story which the world has ever heard. We should like to know and mark the day when that took place. We should like to know the name of the man who first spoke the name of Jesus Christ in Britain. But the name and the day are lost. We look back, and we are like people who are watching for the dawn in a cloudy sky. We see clouds, and we then become aware of a gradual brightening 6 300-600] EARLY BISHOPRICS 7 of the sky, but the moment when the first sunbeam flashes upwards passes unobserved. When the light began none can say, but when the light is there it is clear to all. When the Christian faith first came to us is quite uncertain, but we know it was in these islands before Constantine. Constantine, you know, was the Roman Emperor who first really favoured Christianity. Tertullian, who lived in the beginning of the third century, speaks of places in Britain which were beyond the reach of Roman arms, but which were sub- Well rooted dued to Christ. Origen, writing some thirty before years later, says, " that as yet not all the A,D' 3'4' Britons had received the gospel." Two Church historians are witnesses. Sozomen tells that Constantius, the father of Constantine, gave some support to Christianity in Britain, and Eusebius writes as though a Christian Church existed there. And, lastly, evidence of the existence of this Church is found in the fact that three bishops from Britain attended the Council held at Aries a.d. 314. The ancient roll of the Council includes the names of Eborius, bishop of the town of Eboracum or York; Restitutus, bishop of the town of London ; and Adelfius, bishop of the town of Caerleon, or, as some think, of Lincoln. We thus see that by the time of Constantine the light of Christ shone clear in this country. But how it came remains uncertain. There are indeed some strange and suggestive legends which you will pf^™ one day read about. Some have thought that St. Paul brought the gospel here, others have spoken of St. James, and one beautiful story tells how Joseph of Arimathaea was put by the Jews on board a ship with out sails and oars — Lazarus, Martha, and Mary being his companions on this doubtful voyage. After being tossed about on the Mediterranean they were at last 8 BRITISH CHRISTIANITY [300- landed at Marseilles. From France Joseph, with his son and their comrades, made their way to Britain, and were welcomed by King Aviragus, who gave them twelve hides of ground in the forlorn island known as Ynis-vytrin or glassy island, now Glastonbury. Here Joseph planted his staff, which grew into the Holy Thorn. Here a famous church arose — perhaps the oldest Christian church in England. The legend is only a pretty tale. It comes to us from William of Malmesbury, a writer of the twelfth century. It is one of those romances of which so many have grown up round famous places. The legend is nothing ; but the antiquity of ' Glastonbury is beyond all question. Besides Glastonbury there are places where once famous British churches existed : Canterbury, Verulam (St. Albans), Caerleon, Chester, Whithorne, Evesham. Some have thought that remains of similar churches may be seen at Dover, Richborough, Reculver, Lyminge, and Brixworth. We must think, therefore, of our British ancestors as largely Christian, worshipping in churches and exposed stor of t0 Persecuti°n f°r the name of Christ. The St. Alban. Romans, as you remember, ruled in Britain (?) 286. £Qr many yearSj an(j from time to time the Christians in almost every part of the empire were in danger from some outburst of popular hatred, or from the enforcement of some cruel and intolerant law. One of the most famous of these persecutions occurred in the days of Diocletian, and it is believed that about that time Alban, the British martyr whose name is preserved in the city of St. Alban's, was put to death. Alban— a Briton by birth, a Roman by privilege, a soldier by profession —took pity on a Christian who was flying for his life, and imperilled his own life by giving him shelter. From his guest Alban learned the story of Christ, and at length embraced Christianity. When the fugitive Christian was RELICS OF ST. CUTHBERT. Disinterred in 1827. Now preserved in the Library of the Cathedral at Durham. /, J, 4, Parts of Stole and Maniple buried with St. Cuthbert. 3, Gold cross of St. Cuthbert. To /ace /». 8. 6oo] ST. ALBAN 9 discovered, Alban changed clothes with him, and offered himself to the soldiery in place of his guest. He was recognised and ordered to offer sacrifice to the gods ; he refused, proclaiming that he was a Christian. He was then put to torture, and finally led out to a hill where he was beheaded. His courage and patience are said to have so impressed his executioner that he too declared himself a Christian, and suffered death with Alban. Much that is legendary has grown up round the story of Alban, but there seems no reason to doubt that it contains a true tradition, and that the noble abbey at St. Albans commemorates the name of one who was a true martyr to the faith of Christ. Thus in the midst of many doubtful stories we get glimpses of truth. Clouds hang round this morning of Christianity in Britain, but we may feel sure that the dawn had its moments of brightness. Christianity became a real faith to the people ; the Church was well organised ; it had its clear faith and its independent customs ; it had its persecutions and its heroes. But there came a grievous storm, which swept into the. far corners of the country the remnants of this once flourishing Church. You know that Great Britain contains a strange medley of people. All sorts of different races have met and melted together in the United Kingdom. People might scornfully call us a mongrel race. tneUrffCeS? Certainly this country has been like a great melting-pot, into which all sorts of metals, good, precious, choice, and inferior, have been flung and fused together in the fire of war and in the tumults of time. We know how to-day great hordes of various nationalities are pouring into the United States— English, Irish, Scotch, Germans, Italians, Spaniards keep streaming in. This is the great melting-pot of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. 10 BRITISH CHRISTIANITY [300- Our ancestry had similar experiences a thousand to fifteen hundred years ago, but with this difference : to-day in the United States the fusion of races goes on in a peace ful way; hundreds of years ago things were done more violently. The new people did not come over in emigrant ships with permission to remain as peaceable settlers. They came over armed and planted themselves on the land, holding their possessions by right of conquest, and driving the old inhabitants further and further to the westward. I say to the westward, for these invaders came chiefly from the north, north-east, east, and south east. In this chapter I am going to tell you how the Church of Christ, which was once widespread over the land, was Troubles of driven into narrower limits. This was caused by the British the invasions of pagan people who came from over the sea. The Christian people in this country were British, and therefore it is well to think of the Church of that time as the British Church. The British people had, as you. know, been conquered by the Romans, and for a long time the Romans lived here and ruled, as they did everywhere, with a strong hand, for they were a masterful people, stern and strict in their rule. Wherever they went they left marks and tokens of their power. They built buildings and they made noble roads — roads as direct and unswerving as their own laws. But there was one thing they did not do — perhaps they could not do it, but I think they did not even care to try — they did not raise the character of the people whom they conquered. And now the world was startled by a strange event. Rome, the all-conquering city of the world, was sacked by Alaric and his victorious Goths. The event was like an earthquake, the shock was felt in our land ; the Roman legions were sorely needed to protect the Eternal City, and 6oo] TROUBLES OF THE BRITISH u they were recalled from Britain. Thus the Britons lost their conquerors and their protectors. In the far north, in the country which was called Caledonia, there lived the fierce people known as Picts. Into their land had come a race even stronger than themselves ; from a country which we now call Ireland, but was then Scotia. They invaded Caledonia and gave their own name to the country. These Picts and Scots were now a terror to the British. They had been a trouble to the Romans, and the Romans had built their great walls from sea to sea to overawe them and restrain their incursions. The walls still remained, but the disciplined Roman troops were no longer behind them. These fierce men from the North poured into Britain ; no fear held them back ; they harried and raided in all directions. Other enemies appeared. From the north-east of Europe came the Saxons, the Angles, the Jutes ; these, known generally as Anglo-Saxons, inspired terror wherever they came. They were well armed ; they were swift, warlike, courageous. Tempest and battle were a joy to them. They were pagans who worshipped the heavenly bodies and the great gods Wodin and Thor, and these names still remain in the days of the week. Thus the British were in evil case ; in vain they appealed to the Romans for aid. "The barbarians," they said, " drive us into the sea, and the sea flings us back upon the swords of the barbarians," but Rome could not help them. They then did a foolish thing. The British king Vortigern invited some Anglo-Saxon [Jutish] chieftains to help him against the Picts and Scots ; the bargain proved a bad one for the British. Their allies became their masters, and cruel masters they were. One set of invaders was followed by another. From a.d. 450 to 600 no fewer than six invasions took place, and with each invasion the British were forced further to the westward. Christianity was driven into narrower limits; the churches were overthrown; 12 BRITISH CHRISTIANITY [300- multitudes were slain ; victory was with the invaders. The Saxon strangers possessed themselves of the larger part of the country, which was divided into a number of small kingdoms popularly, but somewhat inaccurately, known as the Heptarchy, from the Greek word hepta, seven. Thus you will see the Saxons occupied all the south and east from Kent to Devon, and from the Forth to the Severn ; while to the British there was onlyTeTTnT the west^Wales ; in the south, Cornwall, part of Devon, and part of Somerset ; and in the north, a strip of country stretching from the Clyde to the Dee. Gildas, a Welsh monk, tells us the story of this dreadful time, and from him we learn how corrupt and selfish the Demoraiisa- British leaders had become, and how, twice tion of the over, demoralisation provoked their calamities. eop e. jje tejjs ug oj- ^ crjmes an(j wickec[ness which prevailed, and he tells us that not only the judges and chiefs, but also the Church and her clergy had become corrupt. The clergy were " clerks, but robbers ; shepherds, but rather wolves ; having .the buildings of the Church, but only"" entering thercPfor gain .... miserably eager for all forbidden things ; arrogant in look ; of the very lowest debasement in conscience ; sad for the loss of a penny, glad to gain one ; dull and dumb in apostolic exhortations ; most learned in the tricks of worldly business." Later, perhaps owing to the wholesome influence of mis fortune, a better state of things seems to have prevailed, and in the latter part of the sixth century the British Church showed signs of energy and zeal. They had famous bishops, Dubricius of Llandaff, and Dewi, or David, of St. Davids. Study was pursued in colleges or monas teries. Synods were held, and missionary work was under taken. But it was to Ireland, and not to the Heptarchy, that their missionaries went. They did nothing for the 600] RELIGION WEAKENED 13 conversion of the great mass of heathens who dwelt so near them. The remembrance of ancient wrongs was stronger than their Christian charity ; so the Christianity of Great Britain was confined within narrow limits. But other influences were at work, and two great missionary movements were destined to meet and complete the conversion of our country. CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE a.d. 597-633 I have told you how the British occupied the western part of the country ; thus the regions which came to be known The as West Wales, North Wales, and Strathclyde Divisions of were Christian. Strathclyde was the country which reached as far as the Clyde ; to the north of this were the people known as the Scots, and to the east of the Scots lived the Picts : these people had received Christianity from British missionaries, and they cherished with special reverence the name of Ninian. Thus Christi anity existed in the far north and in the west, but the great district from the Forth to the English Channel, and from the Severn to the German Ocean, was still heathen. These heathen were, as I have said, Saxons, Angles, and Jutes ; they all belonged originally to the great Teutonic people, but they came over at different times, and they occupied different parts of the country, and formed several different kingdoms. Thus the Jutes were established in Kent, part of Hampshire, and the Isle of Wight ; the Saxons (forming three kingdoms) in Essex, Sussex, and Wessex ; while the Angles occupied the whole district north of the Thames as far as the Forth. In this great district there grew up four kingdoms, known as Mercia, Deira, Bernicia, and East Anglia ; Deira and Bernicia being afterwards united the in kingdom known as Northumbria, i.e. the land north of the 14 597-633] AUGUSTINE 15 Humber. In this way the heathen population was divided into what are roughly reckoned as seven kingdoms, viz. Northumbria, Mercia, East Anglia, Essex, Sussex, Wessex, and Kent. Towards the close of the sixth century the king of the Jutish kingdom of Kent was j^Ethelbert, and it was largely owing to his influence that the Roman mission, The of which I am now going to tell you, was Kingdom of successful. The Jutes were heathen; they theJutes- worshipped the old Teutonic gods, Wodin and Thor, and they loved beautiful stories, like that of " Balder the Bright and Good " ; they delighted in legends such as those which have found new expression in the music of Wagner; they were ready to face death in battle and take their places in the Valhalla, waiting there for the great day of doom. But there was no food for the spirit in these beautiful stories. There was a rough and courageous nobleness about them; they had in them "the wonder and sorrow concerning life and death, which are the inherit ance of the Gothic soul from the days of its first sea-kings," but they did not touch the deepest needs of man's nature. ^Ethelbert had married Bertha, daughter of Charibert, king of Paris. Bertha was a Christian, and though married to a pagan she was allowed to continue her own worship. Thus when the Roman missionaries came, they came to a place where Christianity was at least respected and tolerated. The man at the head of this Roman mission was named Augustine. He was a careful, painstaking, but timid, and yet somewhat arrogant man, zealous after his own fashion. He had not in himself the qualities of a great man, or a great missionary, and his mind was impregnated by those half-Levitical and half- pagan ideas which mingled so largely with Latin Christi anity; but behind him was a man much greater, more intelligent, and larger-hearted than himself— the man who 16 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [597- has been known to after ages as Gregory the Great. It was to the initiative of Gregory and not to the missionary spirit of Augustine himself that the mission to England was due. The story of its origin is pretty. It has often been told, but it is worth telling again. It is said that one day Gregory went to the market-place in Rome, where many things were offered for sale. There The he saw some boys who were to be sold as story of slaves ; the lads were white of skin and fair "gory. qC face, an(j ^y jia(j £ne an(j beautjfui najr_ Gregory asked where they came from. He was told that they came from Britain. He asked whether they were Christian or pagan. When he was told that they were pagan he said, " Alas ! that those who are so fair to look upon should lack the best beauty of all, God's grace within." He asked them to what nation or tribe they belonged, and he was told that they were Angles. "True they have angel faces, and should be co-heirs of angels," he said. He then asked to what province they belonged. He was told Deira. "Truly De Ira,'' he said, "for they are called from wrath to Christ's mercy." He asked by what name their king was called. They told him. "Mua.^ *" Alleluia," he said, " must be sung there." Gregory had wished to go himself to Britain, but he found it difficult to leave. Later, when he had become Gre or Pope, he resolved to carry out his missionary sends wish. He selected Augustine, prior of a monas- Augustine. tery at Rome> an(J sent njm fo^ ^-^ SQme forty helpers on the mission. But those whom he sent were not whole-hearted like Gregory. On their way they began to fear, and they persuaded Augustine to return to Rome and ask Gregory to allow them to give up the mission. You will judge what sort of a man Gregory was from the letters he wrote to these timid-hearted men. Here is one letter : " Gregory, the servant of the servants of God, MINSTER CHURCH. From a photograph by G. W. Wilson and Co., Aberdeen. To face /. 16. 633] KENT CONVERTED 17 to the servants of the Lord. Forasmuch as it had been better not to begin a great work than to think of desisting from that which has been begun, it behoves you, most beloved sons, to fulfil this good work which by the help of the Lord you have undertaken, being assured that much labour is followed by an eternal reward. When Augustine, your chief, returns, whom we also constitute your abbot, humbly obey him in all things, knowing that whatsoever ye shall do by his direction will in all respects be available for your souls. Almighty God protect you with His grace, and grant that I may in the heavenly meeting see the fruits of every labourer." The missionaries thus encouraged made their way through France, and set sail for Britain. The place where Augustine and his comrades landed was Ebbsfleet or Richborough, in the Isle of Thanet, on the coast of Kent. In those days Thanet was separated from the mainland by a stretch of sea. When iEthelbert, the •king of Kent, heard that some missionaries from so great and powerful a city as Rome had landed, he ordered them to remain in the island. A few days later he visited them there. He had a dread of magical arts, so he re ceived Augustine and the monks in the open air, where it was thought that incantations would have less power. At the interview the king declined to accept the Christian faith, but he gave them permission to preach in his kingdom. Accordingly Augustine and his friends came to Canterbury ; they entered the city, chanting a litany and prayers for success. Canterbury thus became the first home of this Christian mission. It afterwards became and, as you know, still is the seat of the Primate of all England. You The will remember that there was a Christian Conversion church at Canterbury before Augustine came ; of Kent- this church, which is one of the oldest in England, is called St. Martin's. It was this church which Augustine C 18 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [597- and his missionaries first used. The beautiful cathedral was not built till many hundreds of years later. Augustine met with success; within two months of his arrival King ^Ethelbert changed his mind and accepted Christianity. He was baptised on Whit Sunday, June ist, a.d. 597. The conversion of the King proved a great help to the mission, for ^Ethelbert's example had great influence, although he did not use any unfair or unworthy force over his subjects in this matter. He left them free to accept the Christian faith or not, as they felt disposed. This was only wise and just. Many followed the King's example, and the success was so great that Augustine felt the time had come for him to exercise the larger powers/ which belong to a bishop. He therefore crossed over to France, and was consecrated bishop at Aries in November. December saw him back again in Kent, and it is said that no fewer than ten thousand persons were baptised on Christmas Day. It will be seen that Augustine's work was proceeding very quickly. He had only beefreight or nine months in England, and already multitudes had accepted the faith. Rapid work is not always the best work. The example of the King had helped much, but we cannot think that there was very much real conviction in the minds of such quickly made converts. In the days of which we are writing, however, people had little idea of deep convictions; they were content with far less than would have satisfied the Apostles, or would satisfy the modern missionary. Still, of whatever kind it was, the work went on, and the knowledge of Christianity was spread in Kent and among the East Saxons. In consequence of this spread of Christianity difficult - questions began to arise, and Augustine thought it well to Gregory's consult Gregory at Rome. In Bede's history wise you may read the letters which Augustine wrote and the answers which Gregory gave, s£ 633] GREGORY'S COUNSELS 19 and when you have read them you will feel how wise Augustine was to consult one who was so much more experienced and larger-minded than himself. For instance, Augustine asked Gregory what he ought to do about the services or liturgies. Gregory replied, as every wise man would reply, that those services were to be used which were most likely to be useful and suitable to the English. " It pleases me," he said, " that if you have found anything either in the Roman, or the Gallican, or any other Church, which may be more acceptable to Almighty God, you carefully make choice of the same, and sedulously teach the Church of the English, which is as yet new in the faith, whatsoever you can gather from the several churches. For things are not to be loved for the sake of places, but places for the sake of things. Choose, therefore, from every church those things which are pious, religious, and upright; and having, as it were, made them up in our hearts, let the minds of the English be made accustomed thereto." One fact we ought to notice. Gregory leaves Augus tine free to adopt any liturgy or services he finds useful and fit. He does not insist that services shall be all of one type : he expressly says the opposite. He declares that that service is best which best suits the English. It is well to remember this, for it is the acknowledgment, on the part of one who is reckoned great among the Popes, that those who are responsible for national Churches are free to choose what services they find best. There is no need, according to Gregory, for a servile following of any, even the Roman use. You can judge from this answer that Gregory was a man who understood the spirit of things, and was not tied, as so many are, by the letter. Had Augustine entered freely into the principles which Gregory laid down he would not have made the great mistakes he did, and had Gregory himself — wise as he was— been 20 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [597- consistent in the application of these large and right prin ciples much mischief might have been avoided. There were, as you will remember, Christian bishops in the British part of the island, and the growth of Augus- Augustine and tine's mission soon brought him into contact the British with these British Christians. In 60 1 Augustine felt that the staff of his missionaries should be increased ; Gregory accordingly sent over four — Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, and Ruffinianus — and at the same time gave Augustine authority to act as metropolitan bishop, i.e. a bishop presiding over a province containing several sees or bishoprics. In token of this authority Gregory gave to Augustine the pallium, or pall — a robe, or as it became later, a tippet or stole — as the sign of his office. It was then planned that there should be twelve bishops under Augustine. London, after Augustine's death, was to be the metropolitan see. In the north there were to be twelve bishoprics under the Bishop of York, who was to be the metropolitan. This scheme, however, was never carried out. But plans like these, and the success which attended Augustine's work, led him to think that he was to exercise authority over every part of the island, even over the British part of it, where Christian bishops had ruled long before Augustine came. Un happily Gregory's just sense deserted him in the matter of these British Christians, and Augustine, who was never distinguished for sagacity and magnanimity, had little of that insight which can put itself in another's place. The British people, it must be remembered, were sore, because they felt that the Saxon folk had robbed them of their lands : there was a strong race hatred to start with. It would have been difficult for even a man of tact and patience to bring about cordial feelings between hostile races, and yet if someone had gone to the British with the real spirit of Christ much might have been done. But 633] AUGUSTINE AND THE BRITISH 21 Augustine expected the British bishops to submit to his authority and to alter their customs, and when he met them in conference he began by finding fault with their usages ; among others their time of keeping Easter. The conference took place, it is thought, in the neighbourhood of Cricklade, a town on the banks of the Isis. The British people defended their own customs, and it is a curious illustration of the temper of thought of the times, that Augustine is said to have proposed to settle the matter, not by argument, but by miracle ; with the view of showing his authority, a blind man, whom the British bishops, so the story ran, had failed to restore to sight, was healed by Augustine. This first conference ended without any settlement. Later another conference was held, at which seven British bishops and many of the Bangor monks were present. A story full of teaching is told of this conference. The British bishops consulted a hermit before they attended the conference, and asked whether at the bid ding of Augustine they ought to forsake their BhSder08'* traditions. He answered, " If he is a man of God foll'ow him." "How shall we know that?" said they. He replied, " Our Lord saith, ' Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me ; for I am meek and lowly in heart.' If, therefore, Augustine is meek and lowly of heart, it is to be believed that he has taken upon him the yoke of Christ, and offers the same to you to take upon you. But if he is stern and haughty it appears that he is not of God, nor are we to regard his words." They asked, " How shall we know this ? " " Contrive," said the hermit, "that he arrive first at the meeting-place. If at your approach he shall rise up, hear him, assured that he is the servant of Christ; but if he despise you and rise not up, let him be despised of you." The British company followe4 the hermit's advice. Augustine received them 22 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [S97- seated in his chair. They were exasperated, and charged him with pride. They refused to change their customs, or to receive him as archbishop, whereupon Augustine took to abuse and threatened them with divine vengeance. In one thing, however, Augustine was right : he blamed them for not preaching the gospel to the English people, but wrongly, he spoke to them of vengeance if they did not. Nine or ten years later yEthelfrith or ^Edelfrid, King of Northumbria, made war upon the British. A battle was Th M nks f°ught near Chester. During the battle the of Bangor, monks of Bangor were seen praying for the a.d. 613. British. "These," said ^Ethelfrith, "are fight ing against us as much as the others." He commanded them to be attacked, and twelve hundred of these praying men are said to have been killed. Foolish people thought that this was a fulfilment of what they called Augustine's prophecy, but such a thought is not fair to Augustine or to truth. But if Augustine was not successful with the British, he was with other people ; his missionaries won their way Au ustine's *nto London through the influence of Sebert, Death, king of the East Saxons. London was then a a.d. 604. rjcja an(j imp0rt;ant; town. Mellitus was ap pointed Bishop of London, and about the same time Justus was appointed Bishop of Hrof or Rochester. Augustine thus saw his work prospering among the English peoples, and being anxious that no disturbance should occur at his death, he consecrated Laurentius to be his successor at Canterbury. He was then near his end. His death took place in May, 604, just seven years after his arrival in Kent. I have told you that the Christian faith was held by the British who occupied Wales, Cornwall, and Strathclyde. North of the Firth of Forth/ Kentigern, the apostle of 633] PAULINUS' MISSION 23 Strathclyde, had reclaimed to Christianity the Picts of Galloway. St. Columba, of whom we shall hear later, had established his mission in the West. Thus at the time of Augustine's death, there were in mission3' Great Britain the English Christians who owed their Christianity to Augustine, and the British and North British Christians who were such before Augustine came. As Christianity had spread among the people of Kent, and among the East Saxons north and east of London, you will see that the heathen population was almost surrounded by Christians on the south, west, and north. The followers of Augustine pushed forward the missionary work after his death, and Paulinus, one of the four who came over in a.d. 601, was so successful that he carried the mission as far north as the kingdom of Northumbria. How he was enabled to do this I must now tell you. ^Ethelbert, the King of Kent, who had so greatly helped Augustine in his work, died in 616. Shortly afterwards, Sebert, King of the East Saxons, died. Thus the two Christian kings disappeared from England, for Sebert's sons were pagan, and Eadbald, who succeeded ^Ethelbert, refused to adopt the Christian faith. The result was that Christian influence declined, and so precarious was the condition of things that Mellitus was driven from London, and Justus resolved to go back to France, and even Laurentius, who had succeeded Augustine as archbishop, thought of following them. But a dream kept Laurentius from his purpose. He dreamed that St. Peter came to him in the night and scourged him for thinking of leaving his post. He went and showed to the King the marks of the stripes which he declared had been given him by St. Peter, and he so worked upon the King that he agreed to be baptised. Laurentius died within three or four years, and was succeeded first by Mellitus and afterwards by 24 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [597^ Justus, in whose days Paulinus carried Christianity north wards. Paulinus had been at work for twenty-four years in Kent, when the opportunity occurred which sent him as bishop to the north. The title and influence tte°N °rth.n of Bretwalda had fallen upon Edwin, King of Northumbria, the conqueror of Anglesea and Man. He thought that his position would be strengthened by marriage, and accordingly he sought the hand of ^Ethelburga, sister of Eadbald, King of Kent, now a Chris tian. ^Ethelburga was a Christian, and it was arranged that her faith should not be interfered with. In her train Paulinus went to the north. Paulinus was a man of imposing appearance, tall, with a slight stoop, with masses of black hair falling round his lean face, his nose thin and eagle-like. In his character energy and subtlety combined. While he preached the gospel among the people he never forgot the king, and lost no oppor tunity of increasing his influence over him. At length he discovered an incident, perhaps a dream which had come to the king in days gone by. When he was young Edwin had been obliged to fly and live in exile. When his fortunes were at the worst he dreamed that an old man came to him, and placing his hand on his head bade him remember that sign when it should be well with him. Paulinus, having heard of this dream, went to the King, placed his hand on his head, and asked him if he remem bered that sign. The King, although startled, did not at once abandon his faith, but he summoned a conference at York. It was at this conference that one of the great chiefs spoke the beautiful parable which is so well Sn's^rabie. known' " The Present ^ °f man, O King," he said, "seems to me, compared with the great unknown which is beyond, like the swift flight of a 633] KING EDWIN AND YORK 25 sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper on the winter's night, for he comes from winter darkness and he passes out again into winter darkness, and even so with us ; we know life, but what went before or what follows after we know not. If, therefore, the new teaching can tell us anything certain, it is well to hear it." Probably the King and his people were more influenced by Coifi, the pagan priest, who not only acknowledged that the pagan gods were empty and vain, but, in proof of his belief, mounted a horse, and taking sword and spear in hand he flung the spear against the pagan temple, and cast down the idols and altars. After this King Edwin, with his leading men and a great multitude of people, was baptised at York in a little wooden church, which was the forerunner of the great cathedral which now can be seen for miles around, the most promi nent feature in the wide plain of York. This success of Paulinus was followed by yet further successes. In Bernicia to the north, and Deira in the south of Edwin's kingdom, he preached and baptised many, and moving into Mercia he preached at Lincoln, and extended his labours to the banks of the Trent. And now came the time which was to try the new work. Penda was the king of Mercia ; he joined his forces with Cadwallon, King of the Britons in the West, paui;nus- and attacked Edwin. Edwin was defeated with work great loss at Hatfield Chase, a.d. 633. Edwin fell, and with him fell the work of Paulinus. Paulinus fled ,to the south, and the Christian faith was for the time crushed in Northumbria and Mercia. Everywhere heathenism triumphed, and so it came to pass that within forty years of the arrival of Augustine, the only place in which his followers held their own was in the kingdom of Kent. This is a sad story, but the work which Paulinus did was 26 THE COMING OF AUGUSTINE [597-633 too rapid to be lasting. The missionaries who came over with Augustine were more anxious to sow widely than to sow deeply; but few great things grow quickly, and so it happened when the testing time came the light of the faith north and west of the Thames was nearly extinguished. THE REMAINS OF IONA CATHEDRAL. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 26. CHAPTER IV. THE REVIVAL FROM THE NORTH a.d. 633-664. God has many ways of doing His work, and from the north there came a great Christian movement, which restored Christianity to Northumbria. To understand this we must try to realise the wonderful story of the missionaries who came from Ireland and strengthened the Christianity of Scotland. It is said that a certain teacher called St. Ninian (whom I have already mentioned) preached to the Pictsy early in the fifth century, i.e. nearly 200 years beforgf Augustine came to England. Before his arrival, too, British missionaries had preached in Ireland, and Irish missionaries, in their turn, crossed the sea and settled in the islands and on the west coast of Scotland. Thus, while the Saxons were spreading pagan ideas over the heart of England, Ireland was sending fresh light to the north ; and the light was very bright, for Ireland was famous for her Christian learning and zeal. Her missionaries went forth and founded centres of piety on the Continent, and it was by a faith under Irish and northern influences that the man was nourished who was destined to do so much for the restoration of Edwin's kingdom and of the Christian faith. Among these Irish missionaries, whose story is so closely connected with the Christianity of Great Britain, one of the greatest was Columba. He is said to have _ , . ...... Columba. been of royal descent. The date of his birth 27 28 THE REVIVAL FROM THE NORTH [633- is uncertain, but he was bom in the early part of the sixth century, about 520, at Gartan, in Donegal. He founded several monasteries in Ireland, and might have remained in that country but for a curious dispute which he had with Finnian, who had been his master. Columba, in his love of Bible study, had copied a manuscript of the Psalter which belonged to Finnian. To his surprise Finnian claimed the copy which Columba had made. King Diarmid, to whom the dispute was referred, gave judgment as follows, " To every cow her calf, so to every book its copy." Columba was incensed at this judgment, and roused up the northern O'Neills against the southern ; the result was a battle, in which many were slain. Columba, who was blamed by good men for his share in the matter, felt that he had brought reproach upon the name of Christ, and he resolved to leave Ireland and go forth preaching the gospel till he had won for Christ as many as those whom his conduct had brought to death. He sailed from Ireland and set up his quarters in lona, being then about forty years old. For thirty-five years he His preached, carrying the gospel among the Picts, Mission in and rousing to higher faith the Scots whom Ninian had evangelised. At length, worn out with labours and still eager in multiplying copies of the sacred books, his strength failed him. He was transcribing the Thirty-fourth Psalm, and he had reached the verse, "They who seek the Lord shall His Death, want no manner of thing that is good," when a.d. 597. he felt that he could do no more. " Here I must stop," he said, "and what follows let Baithen write." Midnight came, and the bell summoned the monks to service; Columba, with effort, hurried to the chapel. There the monks found him lying before the altar, and while blessing them he breathed his last. A smile was on his face, as though he saw the holy angels coming to meet 664] COLUMBA AND AIDAN 29 him. It was the morning of Sunday, June 9th, 597 ; on the previous Sunday Augustine had baptised King ^Ethelbert in Kent. Thus Columba, who had laboured for a generation in the north, died in the very year that Augustine commenced his mission in the south ; and when the current of mission ary work from the south was driven back from Northumbria and Mercia, the Christian zeal of the north, which owed its origin to the Irish missionaries, and through them to the British, was awake. Devoted men, whose names are worth remembering, worked in Northumbria, and carrying on their labours reconquered the hearts of Englishmen for Christ. The man who took the largest share in this was Aidan, a man of surpassing gentleness, piety, and self-restraint. He had been trained at lona, and in 63s he set . .. r Aidan. forth and established himself at Lindisfarne, near to Bamborough, the residence of the Northumbrian monarchs. In his work he was greatly supported by Oswald, who became a powerful king. You remember how Edwin fell at the battle of Hatfield Chase, and the pagan power was re-established in Northum bria. Cadwallon, with whom Penda had made King. alliance, continued the war, and gained great Oswald, ^ successes, but his success was not destined to A' 6^'6*z- last, for Oswald, nephew of Edwin, was raised up to deliver Northumbria from the invader. He had been obliged to fly from his country, and had taken refuge in lona, where the successors of Columba had cared for him. When about thirty years of age he resolved to strike a blow for his country. He raised a small army, and set up as his standard a wooden cross. He met Cadwallon near Hexham. The evening before the battle he dreamed that Columba came to him in shining apparel and bade him " Be of good courage and play the man." On the battlefield the next day he called on his troops to pray to the Lord Omnipotent, 30 THE REVIVAL FROM THE NORTH [633- who knew that they "had undertaken righteous war." Oswald won the day. Cadwallon, the hero of a hundred fights, was defeated, and the Christian faith, under Oswald's protection, spread again in Northumbria. Oswald, grateful to his kind friends at lona, looked to them for help in the missionary work, which was so need ful. In response to his call, Aidan was sent Mission out as tne*r missi°nary- Everything had to be begun again. Paulinus had retreated to the south. His mission seemed to fail, but work for God never fails. Seeds of good lie buried in the soil, over which the floods have passed; they wait to spring up in brighter days. The brighter days had now come, for Oswald and Aidan worked together, and the Christian faith spread. " It was delightful," wrote Bede, " to see the king himself interpreting the Word of God to his commanders and ministers." For eight years all went prosperously — Oswald's king dom was extended till it almost equalled Edwin's. Then B ... , came a change. Penda, round whom the powers Maserfieid, of paganism gathered, met Oswald in battle. a.d. 642. Oswald was defeated, and was slain. The battle of Maserfieid, as it was called, checked the spread of Christianity. The victory was not the victory of Penda only : it was the victory of paganism, and for eleven years the tyranny and exactions of Penda were endured. Then Oswy, who had succeeded Oswald, went out like Jephthah against this tyrant, and fought a battle at Wingfield (655) which, Professor Freeman writes, marked " a~Tu7nIng-point in the history of our island." There Oswy, with a small army, finally overthrew Penda. The river, swollen with flood, helped to complete the rout of Penda's troops. Hundreds of the fugitives were swept away. Penda himself fell upon the field of battle, and with him fell the pagan cause. 664] THREE STREAMS OF INFLUENCE 31 The northern missionaries could now pursue their work in peace, and they made good use of their opportunities. If you visit Lichfield you will hear about St. Chad. He was one of the northern missionaries who had been a monk at Lindisfarne. He went about on foot, preaching as he went. So sweet and gentle was his character, that it was said his soul passed away in music. Strange and sweet songs were heard as he lay dying, and as he breathed his last, unearthly music seemed to rise to the chapel roof and pass upward to heaven. Another of these great northern missionaries was Cuth bert, whose name is still commemorated in Kirkcudbright. Cuthbert journeyed among the pagan population, now walk ing, now riding. He made his way among them, for he could speak their tongue, and needed no interpreter. His intrepid faith never faltered. When foodless he cheered his comrades, saying, " Never did man die of hunger who served God faithfully." When once their path seemed closed with snowdrift before and the sea behind, he ex claimed, in words which are like the echo of a classical tale, " The way of heaven is still open." There were two, or perhaps three, great streams of Christian influence which spread over Britain. These streams were British Christianity, which had m , The three been driven to the far south and west; the streams of Christianity which came through Ireland and Christian , Influence. lona and entered Britain from the north; and the Christianity introduced by Augustine which worked from the south-east. We have seen how the Christianity which Augustine brought spread into Northumbria and was beaten back. We have seen how the stream from the north poured over the districts from which Paulinus and the Roman mission had retired. We must now try and understand the differences between British Christianity and the Christianity of Augustine. 32 THE REVIVAL FROM THE NORTH [633- You may be surprised to hear that there were differences, but it is one of the sad things in the history of Christianity in the world, not that differences ever existed, Differences between but that differences have been made so much North and 0f When you hear what warm discussions South. , ' , and angry controversies took place you might think that the differences were very important, but they were not so. Beneath them, however, lay the question of the independence of the Church, though the pretexts for dispute were trifling. The differences were these : they calcu lated the date of Easter in a different way ; they had some difference in the way they administered baptism ; and they shaved their heads in a different way. Now even in trifles people like their own way of doing things, and in this respect nations are like individuals. The British Church had always followed the use they had been accujstomed to, but Augustine had been trained in the use which was observed at Rome. When, therefore, in Britain there were Christians living near to one another, some of whom followed one use and some another, we can easily see that a time must come when they would begin to dispute with one another. It is about this time that I now want to tell you. The missionary work had gone forward, and almost every part of Britain had been christianised. Northumbria Various ^r] after the failure of Paulinus, been christ- Missions. ianised from Irish or Celtic sources. From Northumbria the faith had passed into Mercia. East Anglia had been the scene of the labours of Felix of Burgundy, and of an Irish missionary, Fursey by name. Among the East Saxons, after the Roman mission had failed, Christianity had been revived by Cedda, a disciple of the British St. Finan. Kent had been christianised by Augustine and his followers, and in the kingdom of the West Saxons Birinus, a mission ary from Rome, had carried on a successful mission. 664] C.EDMON 33 Thus the island was practically brought into the Christian faith, the influences of the Roman mission being strongest in the kingdoms of Kent and of the West Saxons — Celtic and British in- Latin ^ fluences prevailing in all other parts of the sPheres of .-r,, ,. , . . Influence. country. I he two parties were brought into antagonism in the court of Oswy. Oswy's wife, M\h&\- bert's daughter, was Eanfleda, a Kentish princess. She had been brought up to follow the customs taught by Augustine. Oswy, her husband, followed the Celtic customs. It was awkward; for though the King and Queen were both Christians they could not always keep Easter together, for, as Easter was calculated in different ways by the two parties, it sometimes happened that the King and the Celtic Christians were keeping Easter when the Queen, who followed the Roman use, had not finished Lent. To discuss these differences a conference was held at Whitby. Seven years before the conference Hilda, a grand-niece of King Edwin, had founded an abbey at Whitby (664). It stood, and the ruins still remain, upon the summit of the great Yorkshire cliffs which front the German Ocean. It was built at Streones- halch, or the bay of the lighthouse. Hilda, besides being of royal blood, was a wise and good woman, and her abbey was soon frequented by pious and learned people. But the greatest title to fame which Whitby Abbey possesses is the name of Caedmon. Csedmon was a herdman of the abbey, but, like Amos of old, the herdman became a divine singer. It happened in this way: he was thought to be dull, and when others took their turn at singing Caedmon was silent, or left the room because he could not take his turn. Yet something was stirring in his soul, and once he thought he heard a voice which said, "Sing, Csedmon, sing." " I cannot sing," said Csedmon, " I left the others because I cannot sing." _!lYjgt_sing to me," said the voice. 34 THE REVIVAL FROM THE NORTH [633- " What shall I sing ? " asked Csedmon. " Sing of the dawn of things," said the voice. When Hilda was told the dream, she believed that the voice which had spoken to Csedmon was a divine- voice. She gave orders and the Bible story was read to Csedmon, and Csedmon turned it into verse, singing first of the creation, of the story of Israel, and then of the story of Jesus Christ, and lastly of the judgment of hell and of heaven. He sang so wonderfully that none could vie with him ; the gift had come to him straight from God, for he was one of those simple and true souls with whom God loves to dwell. So he became a prophet to the men of his day, and a great name in the literature of our country. But at the time of the conference the voice of Csedmon had not been heard, and none of the voices at Whitby were so sweet or in spiring as his. The conference was a kind of national synod. All parties were represented. King Oswy and his son Alchfrid were wwtby present; Colman, who was Bishop at Lindis- Conference, fame ; Cedd, Bishop of the East Saxons ; a.d. 664. Agilbert, Bishop of the West Saxons. Colman and Cedd were attached to the Celtic use, Agilbert to the Roman use ; but the man whose influence was greatest at the conference was Wilfrid, who had visited Rome. Upon him fell the task of defending the Roman use. The debate was little more than a discussion between Wilfrid and Colman. Colman defended the Celtic use, saying that it had been handed down from the Colman*" ^ays °^ St. Jonn> an(^ sanctioned by so great a man as Columba. Wilfrid maintained that the Celtic use was wrong and the Roman use was right. The discussion was ended, as so often happens in assemblies where reasonableness is the last quality to be expected, by an irrelevant and forcible argument advanced by Wilfrid. "To follow Rome," he said, "was to follow Peter Mil WHITBY ABBEY. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 34. 664] WHITBY CONFERENCE 35 (which, by the way, was not necessarily the case), and to follow Peter was to follow him who had the keys of the kingdom of heaven." This last was the point which struck King Oswy's mind — trivial and unreal as it was. "Is it true, O Colman," he asked, "that St. Peter keeps the keys?" "It is true, O King," said Colman. "Then," said the King, "I will not contradict him, lest when I come to the gates of the kingdom he should refuse me." This settled the matter; the Roman party won the day, and Colman retired in disgust. You will see that the King, unless he was jesting, was more open to arguments from caution than from logic. But however that may be, the result Vas that all the Christians in England were brought to adopt the same use with regard to Easter. In one sense it did not matter a straw which way the question was conference & settled so long as the inconveniences of different times for celebrating Easter were abolished. The other questions were the method of baptising, and the differing ways, of shaving the hair. The first of these does not seem to have been debated. The second gave rise to much controversy, and the circular tonsure of Roman fashion was adopted, instead of the crescent-shaped tonsure used by the British. The real importance of this conference at Whitby is not to be sought in the questions in dispute, for they were all trivial, but in the twofold effect the conference had on the growth of the English Church. On the one side, the Roman party gained a victory over the national party; on the other side, the national power of the Christian Church in England was strengthened by the assembled deliberations and decisions of what was a national synod. English Christianity, like English society, needed consolidation, and the conference at Whitby was a great step towards this end. CHAPTER V. THEODORE AND WILFRID a.d. 668-827 King Oswy, under whose rule so much had been done for the growth of Christianity, died in 670, and with him the Archbishop ascendency of Northumbria came to an end. Theodore, Two years before his death a man became a.d. 668. Archbishop of Canterbury who was destined to exercise a powerful and guiding influence upon the Church of England. He wielded that kind of one-man power which is at times so helpful, and always so danger ous. He was a man of strong and perhaps imperious will : he had little or no regard for the rights of others. He saw what needed to be done, and he did it as one who knows neither fear nor misgiving. He held councils ; in creased the number, and rearranged the boundaries of the English sees ; he treated the British Christians and their bishops in high-handed fashion ; he worried Wilfrid, who, it must be admitted, was difficult to manage. His judgments on practical questions were probably right, but his methods were wrong. The name of this man was Theodore. He came to England in a curious way. He was a Greek monk — a man of Tarsus, like St. Paul. The archbishopric of Canterbury was vacant. An Englishman Theodore. named Wighard had been nominated by Kings Egbert and Oswy. Wighard went to Rome to be consecrated, but he was carried off by pestilence, where- 36 668-827] ARCHBISHOP THEODORE 37 upon the Pope Vitalian sought a fit person for the place. He selected an abbot named Adrian, but Adrian declined it, and recommended a monk named Andrew. Andrew declined it on the score of his health, and recommended Theodore, who was a layman and a monk, and also had a great reputation for learning. Thus Theodore at sixty-six years of age entered upon the primacy, and for more than twenty years ruled with iron firmness. He was some what distrusted by the Pope, who sent Adrian with him into England to see that he did not, "according to the custom of the Greeks," introduce anything contrary to the faith. He began his work with vigour. He visited all parts of England ; he diffused learning ; he encouraged sacred music; he consolidated the Church. Five years after his arrival he held a council at Hertford, and carried through a series of canons or rules for the government of the Church. These canons enacted that all should keep Easter on the same day ; that bishops should not intrude into each other's dioceses ; that they should respect monasteries; that monks and priests should not wander about ; that bishops should rank according to the time of their consecration ; that those men of the Church should not marry ; that divorce should be onl/^ilowea!'for adultery, and that the divorced person should not marry again. These canons were accepted, and so a system of general discipline commenced. But Theodore, like so many strong-willed men, had an exaggerated idea of organisation. He seemed to think that arbitrary and inconsiderate commands were necessary to good government. He In'tsoIerancei thrust upon the nation ideas and customs which were unknown to the apostles. He not only in sisted that the Roman use should everywhere prevail over the Celtic use, but he refused to recognise the bishops 38 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- who had been consecrated by Scots or Britons as bishops without a sort of reconsecration. He treated British Christians as though they were hardly Christians at all. He enforced as a condition of receiving Holy Communion auricular confession, i.e. private confession of sin to a priest — a custom which had no Catholic sanction, and was un known in the Church of England. It was natural that a man of strong will like Theodore should find difficulties when he encountered another of Two strong equally strong will. . Such a man was Wilfrid. Wilis Wilfrid, you remember, was the man who at the council of Whitby turned away the attention of King Oswy from the real subject by an in genious diversion. He was a clever and resolute man, of great energy and devotion, of wide experience and re stricted views. After the council of Whitby, Wilfrid had been appointed to the see of York. As he was strongly opposed to the Celtic use, he chose to consider that the Scottish or British bishops were not duly consecrated ; he therefore went into France to be consecrated. He re mained, however, so long away that the see of York was filled up by another appointment. Subsequently through the vigour of Theodore this was put right, and Wilfrid was reinstated, and entered upon his duties at York. He achieved much, and to him the increased beauty of the church at York, and two fine churches, one at Ripon Wilfrid's and the other at Hexham, were due; he also Work in the encouraged church music. He was vigorous in journeying through his diocese. But his bold and interfering spirit got him into trouble with Egfrid, the King of Northumbria, for he influenced the Queen Etheldreda to take the vows of a monastic life Error! m sP^te °^ ner husband's will. This was a very wrong act, for it was encouraging the Queen to break the vow she had solemnly made on her marriage. 827] WILFRID 39 There are some people who think that if they have a good and religious end in view it can make wrong right; but this is a mistake, and more than a mistake : it is doing a grievous wrong to religion. You remember how our Lord blamed the Pharisees because they allowed their "Corban" (a religious plea) to set aside a moral obligation. He said such people were making the commands of God of none effect through their traditions. We ought to note these things, for they are subtle dangers ; and this action of Wilfrid is the type of many other actions which show that those who are engaged in ecclesiastical affairs are very prone to be led by their own zeal into a forgetfulness of the very principles upon which religion is based. In this case, too, the mistaken zeal of Wilfrid made matters worse instead of better, for when Queen Etheldreda took the veil King Egfrid married again, and no one seems to have raised a protest against this state of things. The immorality was forgotten in the supposed " religious " call of the queen. Wilfrid suffered for his mistake. The new Queen disliked him, and he was banished; and it is to Archbisho'p Theodore's credit that he did not endorse Wilfrid's action. Theodore, who was a great organiser, was set upon a fresh division of dioceses. Among other things he took upon him to partition Wilfrid's diocese without Wilfrid's any reference to Wilfrid. This seems to have Troubles, occurred in 678, the year of Wilfrid's banish- ' ' ment ; whereupon Wilfrid, whose line of action always tended to compromise the independence of the Church of England, appealed to Rome. He gained little by this, for though it was decided that he had been unfairly treated, yet the wisdom of Theodore's division was approved. Wilfrid returned to England; his appeal to Rome had roused the resentment of the King and his chiefs, and Wilfrid was thrown into prison. After his liberation he 40 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- went and preached zealously among the South Saxons, and won their favour not only by his eloquence but by his practical help, for he taught them the art of sea-fishing. Wilfrid, however, still claimed the bishopric of York, from which he had been expelled, and made various struggles to recover it. A second time he journeyed to Rome to lay his appeal there; but Rome was timid, and in the end all that Wilfrid could obtain was the see of Hexham and the minster of Ripon. He contented himself after this with founding religious houses, and died, worn out with age and disappointment, in 709. He was an energetic, active, zealous Wilfrid0 man. He loved power and pomp. He could brook no rival, and it was impossible that men, strong willed as he and Archbishop Theodore were, could avoid coming into collision. Wilfrid has been called the Athanasius of his age, in allusion to the great Athanasius who carried on, almost single-handed, a struggle against Arianism and the Empire. In his frequent journeyings, and in the opposition he encountered, he may have resembled this great man, but he had none of the eleva tion of soul and simplicity of nature which belonged to Athanasius. He was not, moreover, a "lonely splendour" like Athanasius, for the truth is that this period of English Church history is marked by several vigorous, Churchmen. active, and determined men, under whose in fluence much external and organising work was done. Aldhelm, Abbot of Malmesbury and first Bishop of Sherborne, was one of them. He had a reputation as a teacher, and while administering his large diocese with vigour he developed and enriched abbeys, like those at Abingdon and Glastonbury. Benedict Biscop was another ; he visited Rome six times, and brought back valuable manuscripts, and so encouraged learning. After being THE SANCTUARY KNOCKER, DURHAM. A light used to shine through the eyes of the mask to guide the fugitive to the spot. On sounding the knocker he was admitted by the priest within, and was afforded sanctuary until the danger was past. To face p. 40. S27] BEDE 41 two years Abbot of Canterbury he went north, and built the monasteries of Wearmouth and Jarrow. But greater than these was Bede, " an Englishman, born in an obscure corner of the world, who by his know- ^e,6 ledge enlightened the whole universe," for he " searched the treasures of all divine and human learning." Such is the language of his epitaph in Durham. Bede wrote much history, many lives of saints, and, chief of all, translated the four Gospels into English. He was engaged on this last work when his end came. " Dear master," said the boy who was writing at Bede's dictation, "dear master, there is yet one sentence unwritten." He answered, " Write quickly." Soon after the boy said, " It is finished now." He replied, "Well, you have said the truth. It is finished. Receive my head into your hands, for it is a great satis faction to me to sit facing my holy place where I was wont to pray, that I may also sitting call upon my Father, and on the pavement of this noble place, singing glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost." When he had named the Holy Ghost he breathed his last. So died Bede, known as the Venerable Bede, the earliest ecclesiastical historian of England. His death took place in 735, twenty-six years after that of Wilfrid. The period of Theodore and Wilfrid was one in which much was done for the organisation of the Church. The relations between the Church and State became The Age o{ clearly defined. The country was mapped out Theodore more completely into dioceses, and divisions resembling parishes. The Church was freed from taxation; its right of sanctuary * was allowed ; the observance of Sundays and fast-days was recognised; so that,, on the * Fugitives were allowed to take refuge in churches. Once there they were held to be under the protection of the Church, and safe till their cause could be tried. The churches were, in fact, like the cities of refuge mentioned in the Old Testament (Joshua xx. 7) 42 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- whole, a more settled and acknowledged order of things was established. What happened then was what often happens. Men, whose characters are marked by strength and weakness, by goodness and badness, work with one another and war with one another. Slowly out of their efforts and conflicts order and organisation emerge, for there is in all movements a power mightier than that of individual men. Though in matters of organisation the Church of England had grown strong, the real religion of the country was at a very low ebb. The monasteries, which ofMoraisf ought to have been places of pure morals and quiet study, had become haunts of vice. In fanticide was a crime not unknown in the nunneries. English women won an evil reputation abroad. Luxury, violence, and drunkenness were common among laity and clergy. The evil had grown so much that Boniface, an English monk whose missionary labours in Hesse and Thuringia had rendered him famous, wrote letters of urgent expostulation. At length it was determined to hold a council. This took place at Clovesho, i.e. Cliff-at-Hoo in Kent, a spot Council of where many councils were held. Regulations Clovesho, were passed at this council with the view of improving Church life and morals. Greater care was to be taken in ordaining men ; clergymen were to be exhorted to weigh their solemn duties ; sacred study was to be encouraged; the people were to be taught the exact meaning in their native tongue of the Latin words of the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the service for Baptism and Holy Communion ; worldly employments were to cease on the Lord's Day; the services were to be performed in one uniform method ; monasteries were not to be the resorts of poets, musicians, and buffoons; nuns were not to spend their time in luxury or in doing 827] THE ROMAN PATRIARCHS 43 vain embroidery, but in reading and singing psalms; almsgiving was to be practised seriously, and not merely as a substitute for personal godliness or as a payment for the licence to live an evil life. These regulations show that the standard of moral life was not high. Indeed, the ideal of the Christian life had very nearly been lost sight of. When men are greatly interested in the advance ment of the Church as an institution they commonly forget the real purpose of the Church, which is to save and help the world. The true interests of the Church are the moral and spiritual progress of mankind. Had the Christian life of England been more vigorous, the Church would not have fallen so readily under foreign domination. We have seen that there was in England since the days of Augustine a party which was ready to accept everything which came from Rome, and to reject all else. There were men who, like Wilfrid, were willing iJ^ences.8 to invite the interference of the bishops of Rome on almost any cause. There were others who re sented this interference. In the history which follows we shall have to say much about the Bishops or Popes of Rome, and it is well that we should understand something about their history and position. Early in Christian times those who were bishops of important places, such as Antioch or Alexandria or Rome, naturally took a leading place among their brethren. Their precedence was recognised, and they were called Patriarchs. The Patriarchs were not supposed to interfere in one another's spheres ; all held equal rank, and all were inde pendent. In -the fifth century there were five recognised Patriarchs, viz. the Bishops of Jerusalem, the mother Church of the world, and of Constantinople, which had been made the seat of empire by Constantine, besides the bishops of the three places already named. Each of these Patriarchs was called a Great Father or Pope of all 44 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- Christendom. All were under the Emperor. The Bishop of Rome was looked upon as the Patriarch of the West. This, however, did not mean that all lands to the West were under his authority; for, to take an example, island Churches were independent. Those Bishops of Rome, however, who were filled with a missionary spirit felt themselves responsible for whatever Christian work was needed in the Western world, even in regions of the West which were not strictly under their jurisdiction. It will thus be seen that it was only by slow degrees that the authority of the Bishop of Rome spread. It was not at first pressed as a right. It was rather an influence which gained power over men's minds in an unconscious way through the prestige which the name of Rome, as a capital of the world and an Apostolic See, carried with it. But there is another and better influence. The prestige of a great name counts for something, but the force of a great character and example counts for even more ; and among the Bishops of Rome there were men who were shining examples of Christian doctrine and charity. We have met with one of these, Gregory, deservedly called Great, to whose earnestness we owe the mission of St. Augustine to England. As long as the Bishops of Rome sought to benefit men, and showed to the world examples of Christian simplicity and devotion, they gained power which was quite legitimate, being that of moral and spiritual influence. It is to these qualities and to the truths which were proclaimed by teachers in Western Christendom, that we must attribute, under God, the ready surrender of the wild northern tribes to the guidance of the Bishops of Rome. Men who possess and live by force do not yield homage as a rule to bad men. It is the spirit of devotion which knows best how to conquer. Rough violence often bows down before a simple and earnest life. So Spenser teaches us. " O ! how can goodness master the most strong ! " 827] GROWTH OF PAPAL POWER 45 But unfortunately history shows us how soon men forget their ideals, and how fatally worldly success and worldly power corrupt both men and institutions. The Bishops and the -Church of Rome were not exempt from this law. The Church of Rome grew in power, but she did not grow equally in purity. Roughly speaking, we may say that in the middle of the sixth century Rome was simply one of the Patriarchates, but later, when a schism occurred which split Eastern and Western Christendom asunder, the Bishop of Rome, standing alone in the West with no powerful rival bishop to counterbalance his claims, increased in power and authority, and slowly transformed the Patriarchate into what is known as the Papacy. In the eleventh century, about the time of our Norman Conquest, a new development began. This was the period in which the rights of national Churches were invaded and the authority of civil rulers threatened. Three Popes, men of great personal force of character and of strong and often un scrupulous will, contributed to the growing power of Rome at this time. These were Gregory VIL, Innocent III., and Boniface VIII. Under their influence the claims of Rome were advanced to the point of declaring practically that the Popes were overlords of all national sovereigns. This brings us to the period when the best and noblest spirits of Europe were perplexed. They saw how lofty was the theory that there should be one Empire and one overlord as Emperor of the West, and one Church guided by one Chief Shepherd, but they saw also how far the reality was from the theory. They lived in a period when God, who fulfils His purpose in many ways, called upon men to surrender their dreams and to wait upon Him, who can give them results better than their visions. Men could not develop according to their best under one monarchy, either civil or ecclesiastical. The world would be benefited by free national developments, and nations 46 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- and races had to fight their own battle and find their own way. This was one lesson which men had to learn. Later they were to learn another. Free national develop ment was to be followed by free individual development. Men were destined to cast off the hard external bonds by which some theorists sought to bind them together, in order to find their way to better bonds of union. They were to cast off bonds of outward uniformity, that they might find that inward bonds of moral harmony were more lasting and more pleasant. They were to throw aside the bondage of the letter that they might be united in the power of one spirit. In what has been said we have anticipated the later history ; but this will help us to understand the tendencies which were at work. We must now return to a period when circumstances were favourable to the Roman party. We have reached the time of that great ruler whose name marks an epoch in European history, Charles the Great, or Charlemagne. Charlemagne naturally wished Rome to be as important in Church influence as Constantinople. You will remember that the Roman emperors moved the capital of the Roman Empire to Constantinople. This move gave a great importance and prestige to Constantinople ; and the old capital, Rome, became jealous of the new rival. This jealousy entered into Church matters, and the Bishops of Rome were always anxious to maintain their superiority to the Bishops of Constantinople. When Charlemagne became Emperor of the West his sympathies were naturally with Rome, rather than with Constantinople. The Bishops of Rome and the Roman party were always ready to disparage Constantinople and Eastern Christianity. You remember how, when Theodore was sent into England, the Roman party sent with him a man to watch him, lest he should introduce some erroneous teaching or practice. 827] COUNCIL OF CHELSEA 47 This showed the jealousy with which the Roman party watched Eastern or Greek influence. Now it so happened that Offa, King of Mercia, who was at the time the leading king in England, was a friend of Charlemagne. The signs of Roman Councilof influence were seen in a council held at Chelsea, Chelsea (a.d. 787), for at this council certain A,D' 7B?' constitutions and canons which were drawn up at Rome were brought forward and passed. Some of them were harmless in themselves, being only a recognition of the well-accepted Nicene Creed, and the decisions of certain general councils; others were comparatively trifling; others showed symptoms of undue ecclesiastical pretensions. But the really important fact was the disposition which was shown in the introduction of them. It was the first deliberate interference of the Church of Rome. We shall see later how this spirit of interference grew. Already, indeed, it had made some way. England, you remember, was to have had two ecclesiastical provinces — one at Canterbury, the other at York. For a long time, however, York remained only a bishopric, and the Archbishop of Canterbury (Theodore) interfered in the northern diocese; but at length (734) Egbert, Bishop of York, claimed, and received recognition of his claim, to be considered metropolitan of the northern part of England and Archbishop of York. But now changes had taken place. The kingdom of Northumbria had done much for English life and Christianity. It had been the centre of political life. From Lindisfarne, within its borders, had gone forth the vigorous Christian life which had won England from paganism. In its bosom the flame of learning and of song had been kept alive. It had led, and had nobly led, the rest of the country ; but with the death of Oswy this leadership passed away. Mercia and Wessex became powerful, and practically England was divided into 48 THEODORE AND WILFRID [668- three kingdoms, and it became a question which of the three kingdoms would ultimately prevail and rule over the others. Mercia gained power when Wessex was rent by civil strife, and as Mercia became important it was natural that its king should wish that the leading bishop of his kingdom should not hold rank below the prelates at York and Canterbury. Offa, who was King of Mercia, effected this change by the help of Pope Hadrian, and Lichfield became, for a time, an archbishopric. There were, there fore, in England three metropolitans whose jurisdictions may be said to have corresponded to those of the three kingdoms. Thus the organisation of the Church reflected the changes in the people's political life. But the internal rights of the Church in England were so far recognised that at the council of Chelsea the Archbishop of Canter bury gave up a portion of his province, and bishoprics'^" Higbert, Bishop of Lichfield, became Arch bishop and Metropolitan, with six bishops under him. Thus England became possessed for the time of three metropolitans. This did not last long; but the incident serves to show us the different forces which were at work. It shows us, too, how Rome exercised influence in English affairs. There was no doubt great reverence for the Patriarchal see of the West, but no legally-defined authority was insisted on or formally acknowledged at this time. The canons I have spoken of, and the making of Lichfield into an archbishopric, were the acts of a synod or council of the English Church. In 803, at Clovesho, an English synod (the second held there), with the approbation of Pope Leo, decided to abolish the arch bishopric of Lichfield and to restore the ancient dignity of Canterbury. The Church of England might be open to influence, but her independence was unchallenged. But if Roman influence was felt in England, English influence was being felt in Europe; and at this time 827] ENGLAND AND THE CONTINENT 49 an Englishman wielded conspicuous moral power. * This was Alcuin, who was the teacher and constant adviser of Charlemagne. Charlemagne was a great and enlightened ruler; he strove to restore society; he sought to re-establish the great empire of the West ; he sought to revive letters. In the East, in 787, the second council of Nicaea was assembled. This, which is reckoned the seventh general council, decided that a sort of inferior worship might be paid to images. The plea for this was on the ground that this worship was not paid to the image, but to that which the image represented. This was considered by many a very dangerous decision. Charle magne was amongst these. He knew enough of idolatry to perceive the peril. He summoned Alcuin to his aid, and Alcuin wrote a letter, admirably confirmed by the authority of the Divine Scriptures, which opposed the decision of the council. This letter was adopted as the answer of the Emperor, and of the bishops and princes in the West. Seven years later a council was held at Frank fort (794), which condemned the decision of the eastern council on image worship. This council was memorable because it showed the West acting independently, and de ciding against the decision of the East. It was a large and important council, for three hundred bishops were present. English bishops took part in it, and it was to Alcuin that the success of this council was largely due. But though there was this friendly intercourse, English men were jealous of foreign interference. They saw clearly that Charlemagne, who aspired to restore the glories of the Roman empire, dreamed of AsDeL bringing England under his sceptre. Offa, King of Mercia, therefore felt that there were reasons to distrust the friendliness of so great a sovereign as Charle magne. But the kingdom of Mercia was destined to fall, not before Frankish, but before English power. Egbert, So THEODORE AND WILFRID [668-827 as King of Wessex, grew powerful. He pushed his power to the west and subdued the British. He pushed his power north, and finally drew Mercia and Northumbria under his rule. The Church in England had long reckoned itself one, and now there appeared signs that the people might be united under one king. But it was not to be yet. Other enemies, fierce and troublesome, began to appear. It was only after further pain that the union of England was to be finally established. CHAPTER VI. THE TIMES OF THE DANES A.D. 803-925 We have seen that by degrees the Church of England grew to be an organised body. At the first, you remem ber, there were Christians in this country who belonged to the British people, and who followed The Unifica- , . , f f > tion 0f the the customs which were known to the British Nation Church. Then came the mission of Augustine, he'ped .... . , , , , . forward by and with it were introduced customs belonging the church. to the Latin race and Church. Gradually the two streams of Christian influence met one another. Mean while organisation was going on; "dioceses were formed; councils or synods were held; customs were settled; and the Christian people of the country, though they still belonged to different kingdoms, began to feel that they were one, because they had one faith and were members of one Church. Thus the spirit of union came to the people through their belief in Christ. But politically they were still divided, for they were the subjects of different kings, though one was generally looked upon as chief. When Augustine landed the King of Kent was chief king, afterwards the King of Northumbria, then the King of Mercia took the leading place, and last of all the King of Wessex. It is important to remember this, for when once the kings of Wessex obtained the chief power they kept it. In establishing themselves as the 5! 52 THE TIMES OF THE DANES [803- recognised chief king or over-lord, they were really laying the foundation of the one kingdom of England, into which all the lesser kingdoms were to be merged. England became • one kingdom largely through her dangers, but we must not forget that the Church had made this union of the country all the easier, because it had made the people feel that they were one by virtue of a common faith and common brotherhood in Christ. But it took a long time to bring this about, and the people had to suffer much before they learned how important it was to be united. It is about these sufferings and troubles I now want to tell you. The period of history about which we are speaking has sometimes been called the period of the Danes. You will remember how the Britons were exposed to the A D Soo^oo danger of constant invasion ; the Angles and Saxons and Jutes came and fought and took their lands from the Britons. Now the invaders were in their turn invaded. The Northmen, that is, the people who had settled in the lands which we now call Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, came in strong bands and robbed and raided all along the English coast. At first they came only as raiders and plunderers, and went home with their plunder ; but in the middle of the ninth century the Danes came as invaders. They came to conquer, and to settle where they had conquered. Landing in East Anglia they marched north, and soon were masters of Northumbria. Mercia was in danger, but Ethelred, the King, saved it by a prudent treaty of peace, and the Danes turned their victorious forces to the eastward, spoiling and raiding as they went. On their march they passed famous monasteries ; these they plundered and burned. The flames of blazing abbeys marked their route. They loved plunder, but they were pagans, and they hated the Christian faith. Thus their invasion was too often like a persecution of the Christian people of England, 925] EDMUND AND ALFRED $3 In this way some who died at the hands of the Danes have been looked upon as martyrs. The tpwn of Bury St. Edmunds commemorates the name of an Edmund, English king who suffered for his faith at this ^ arnd time (870). Edmund was King of the East a.d. 870. Angles. The Danish forces had reached Thetford. King Edmund went out and fought against them, but he was defeated and taken prisoner. The Danes wanted him to deny his faith ; he was offered his life if he would renounce Christianity. On his refusal he was bound to a tree and shot to death with arrows. The death of Edmund put an end to the kingdom of East Anglia. The Danes being now masters of Northumbria and East Anglia, Mercia was contented to acknowledge their power and pay them tribute. It looked as though the Danes would carry all before them. Wessex was as yet unsubdued, but she was left weakened and alone to meet the triumphant invaders. Thus when the year 870 closed, the ^llSed' 1 ' ' A.D. 871-901. prospects of the English were gloomy indeed; but the following year the deliverer came. Ethelred died, and Alfred, one of the greatest, purest, and noblest names in English history, succeeded to the throne of Wessex. He did more for England than Egbert had done, for he not only saved Wessex, but he proved to Englishmen that the Danes were not invincible. He secured by his valour a time of peace. Under his rule a better life opened to the eyes of Englishmen; knowledge spread; religion was fostered ; and the Church was freed from the troubles which disturbed her under weaker kings. Under such kings and in such times the Church had little time for quiet development. Abuses grew up, and though some attempts were made to remedy them, the state of the Church was not satisfactory. Monasteries were not the homes of piety and study which they were 54 THE TIMES OF THE DANES [803- meant to be. Other troubles arose. The Archbishop of Canterbury quarrelled with the King of Kent; the Arch bishop of York quarrelled with his King. The Pope tried to mediate, but was in his turn compelled to ask the help of the Emperor of the West. A great deal of con fusion prevailed, and the people suffered while their leaders and shepherds were quarrelling. The whole Southern Province seems to have been placed under an interdict. You will understand how terrible a thing an interdict was when I tell you what it meant. -It meant that all the usual services of the Church were forbidden. Except in cases of extreme urgency, the people were practically deprived of public worship on Sunday, .of marriage, and burial. This was bad, but it was worse in days of little education, for ignorance is the victim of many superstitious dreads, and to such people it seemed that the very gate of heaven was closed. The interdict was thus a most cruel thing, and though, of course, no decree of any Church could ever really shut any man out of the love of God, yet it shows us how little of the love of God was left in the hearts of rulers who were willing to deprive people of prayers and services because of personal or political quarrels ; but obstinacy and pride are sometimes stronger than charity and mercy. The whole story is very sad, and we cannot help seeing that human selfishness often influences the settlement of questions on which the welfare of large bodies of men depends. There was, as we have seen, a tendency on the part of Rome to get more and more power in England. Sometimes the bishops and kings saw the danger of this of Rome"06 anc* resisted it, sometimes they did not. Thus it happened that partly because Rome was a great and learned city, partly because the bishops of Rome were highly esteemed, and partly also because some 925] THE QUESTION OF THE PALL 55 of them were over-fond of power, the Bishops of Rome did gain a great deal of power. Efforts were made from time to time to prevent any increase of this power. For instance, in 805, when yEthelheard, Archbishop of Can terbury, died, and Wulfred was appointed to succeed him, a remonstrance was then addressed to the Pope by the clergy against the custom which had grown up that the newly-elected archbishop should go to Rome to receive the pall or tippet, which was the symbol of his authority over other bishops. This custom, we say, had grown up, for you will remember that Augustine did not go to Rome to receive the pall ; Gregory sent it to him. The English clergy therefore resented the custom; the Pope gave way. Wulfred did not go to Rome, but the Pope sent Wulfred the pall. In 855, when there was a lull in the Danish troubles, owing to a victory which King ^Ethelwulf won over the Danes, the affairs of the Church received some ~. Tr . . r , Tithes. attention. I he King made a grant of the tenth of all his possessions to God and the Church for ever, free of all exactions or impost. The meaning of this seems to be that the King now formally confirmed the general custom of such contribution to the Church. Long before ^Ethelwulf's time the giving of tithes, or a tenth, had been a custom. This custom was now given the sanction of the King, who led the way by contributing his tenth. You will frequently hear a great deal about tithes and the tithe question, and then you will remember that as many as a thousand years ago an English king set a good example to his people by giving tithes. ^Ethelwulf took a great interest in Church matters, and some people say that he himself was an ordained priest, or presbyter of the Church. But neither ^Ethelwulf nor his immediate successor had the qualities of a really great king. Only when Alfred 56 THE TIMES OF THE DANES [803- ascended the throne did England possess a worthy and effective ruler. To Alfred it was given to know the true ideal of a king. To him the king was victories one wtl° care(i f°r> thought for, and provided for his people. He was not a man who was content to be served and who rejoiced in increasing his own pomp and splendour. He had a nobler ambition. As long as he lived he desired, as he himself said, " to live worthily." He was to his people what David was to Israel, for he "fed them with a faithful and true heart, and ruled them prudently with all his power." He fought the Danes in spite of disasters and distress, and never despaired of his country, but even when things were at their worst he kept his courage high and his trust unshaken. He drew strength from his faith in God. He gained confidence by his straightforwardness, and at last won the reward of his patient courage. After seven years of strange vicissi tudes and difficulties he defeated the Danes at the great battle of Ethandune (a.d. 878). The consequences of this battle were of the greatest moment to English life. The Danes were allowed to settle in a territory north and east of Watling Street; and although the Danish inroads did not cease, yet a period of quietness was secured. Many, too, of the leading Danes accepted Christianity. Guthrun, their leader, was baptised, Alfred himself standing as his godfather. This time of quiet allowed leisure for the consideration of the internal state of the country. Here Alfred showed Alfred's wise h's greatness. Brave and stubborn in war, he Care of the was quick and intelligent in peace. He saw People. t]lat kjs pe0pie needed good laws and well- diffused education ; he therefore issued a code of laws, and took steps to provide for the instruction of the people. The laws he prefaced with the Ten Command ments. People have wondered why he did this. Probably 925] KING ALFRED'S WORK 57 he thought that these moral laws should be known to his people. Perhaps he thought that they were the foundation of all laws. At any rate, these noble com mands, which are ordered by law to be inscribed in all our churches, stood as the preface of the Church laws issued by Alfred. The ecclesiastical laws showed a curious deficiency in the sense of moral proportion. The tone was in general most noble, but when we come to particulars we feel that the penalties enacted w do not always discriminate between the moral gravity of the different offences. For instance, comparatively trivial faults committed against ecclesiastical rules are treated worse than some grave moral offences. One or two examples will illustrate this. A veil was hung up during Lent, much to the discontent of the people, across the chancel, so that the holy table and the east end were con cealed. The fine for tearing down this veil was one hundred and twenty shillings : the fine for drawing a sword in the presence of a bishop was the same ; but the fine for the sin of adultery was no more, while if the sword was drawn in the presence of an archbishop, the fine was one hundred and thirty shillings, that is, ten shillings more than that for glaring immorality. These were blemishes in this code. The circumstances of the times may explain much, but even allowing for this the respect for persons was carried too far. But one sentence in the code has appealed to the hearts of Englishmen ever since. The first law of this code was that everyone be compelled to observe strictly his oath and covenant. In this we have the recognition of that truthfulness which was so characteristic of Alfred. Besides fighting the Danes and giving to his people a code of laws, Alfred sought to promote the education of the people. He wished them to "' ' have books. He gave active help by translating books himself into English. Among these he translated Bede's 58 THE TIMES OF THE DANES [803- History, the Soliloquies of St. Augustine, Boethius' De Consolatione Philosophies, some of the works of Gregory the Great, and some parts of the Bible. He did all this because he felt sorry that the English Church, which at one time had possessed great and scholarly men, was now fallen so low. The King lamented sorely that the English people were so unenlightened, and that there were so few on this side the Humber who could understand their service in English. " We have loved," he said, " only the name of being Christians, and very few our duties. When I thought of all this, then I thought also how I saw it before it was all spoiled and burnt, how the churches throughout all the English nation were filled with treasures and books, and also with a great multitude of God's ser vants, and yet they knew very little of the fruit of the books, because they could understand nothing of them, because they were not written in their own language." He then goes on to say that books should be translated, and that he will send one copy to each bishop's see in his kingdom. Besides translating books the King established schools in different places. Thus Alfred sought the good of his people. Now it sometimes happens that harm arises out of intended good. Alfred wished the leaders of the Church to be wise and learned ; but there were not always enough men of learning — as he understood learning — to fill the vacant places, and thus for a very long time some of the bishoprics remained unfilled. This was unfortunate, as the Pope made these vacancies a reason for interfering, and so strengthening the power of Rome. Edward, the son of Alfred, like his father, desired the ...,.,. welfare of the Church, but neither he nor his Athelstan,'a.d. 925-940. successor, Athelstan, was able to do much, as the troubles from the Danes still continued. But there is one order which was issued in Athelstan's 925] ATHELSTAN'S GREAT LAW 59 reign which I want you to remember, because it recognises a great principle which has been and, I am afraid, is often forgotten. " The slave and the freeman," it is declared, "are equally dear to the Lord God who bought them all with the same price." This is a great and true thought. I hope we shall always realise it. If we remember that all are equally dear to God, and all alike are God's servants, we shall always carry the generous heart of a gentleman towards all mankind. CHAPTER VII. THE DANES AND THE ANGLO-SAXONS A.D. 925-IO52 And now I come to a part of the story which I am afraid will be dull, because it tells of some of those struggles between clergymen, which are not so attractive or so heroic as the tales of war. But I want you to see how men lose their influence and chance of doing good in God's world by carelessness and self-indulgence. "We are all God's servants " were the words of the declaration in Athel- stan's reign, of which I told you in the last chapter ; and it was because the monks largely forgot that they were servants of God, and thought more of their own indul gence than of duty, that the troubles overtook them of which I must now tell you. The monasteries had grown corrupt. During the Danish troubles they attracted by their riches the attention of the invaders, so that partly because they were the Monasteries, tokens of Christian faith, and partly because they yielded a great deal of spoil, they were the chief objects of attack, and as they were no longer the homes of piety and study which they once had been, they did not command the sympathy of the English people. But at the time I speak of, the monasteries were not the only sources of religious influence. In very early times they were almost the only spots where teachers of the Christian faith were to be found. This was largely 60 GLASTONBURY ABBEY. To face p. 60. 925-1052] THE MONASTERIES 61 the case in the days of British Christianity. The monas teries of Glastonbury and lona and elsewhere were the lighthouses of the faith; but later something more like a parochial system, as we have seen (in Chap. V., p. 41), sprang up, and there were some clergymen who lived with their wives and ministered to the people in their own neighbourhood. Out of this there arose a jealousy between the clergymen who lived in parishes and those who lived in monasteries. The monks were called Regulars, because they lived in houses which were under rules or regulations ; the parish clergymen were called Seculars, because they lived and ministered more in the world. Now the bishops found that the abbots or rulers of the monasteries were too independent, and often refused to recognise their authority. The bishops, in fact, were the heads, and so the representatives, of the parish clergy or seculars. The destruction of so many monasteries by the Danes increased the importance of the secular clergy. But it must not be thought that the monastic clergy were all bad and the secular clergy all good. It is true that the monasteries had become demoralised, but I am afraid that the secular clergy were not all that could be desired. They were not above the love of money and the desire of pro viding for their children at the expense of the Church. This state of things gave to a strong man the opportunity of interfering. The strong man was Dunstan. Dunstan, who was born in 925, was a weakly child. Once in the delirium of fever he escaped from AUD.st9a25l988. his nurse and climbed to the roof of Glaston bury Abbey, and came down again without hurt or harm. This, after the fashion of the times, became magnified into a miracle. Dunstan grew up beautiful and clever. He was a good musician ; he could illuminate manuscripts and work skilfully in metals. He had an ardent and imaginative temperament. After a love affair he became 62 DANES AND ANGLO-SAXONS [925- a monk, and in his cell encountered many temptations. Like Luther after him, his temptations seemed to him to take almost material form. Demons haunted and Harassed him. The legend of his temptations is ex pressed in the familiar lines — " St. Dunstan, as the story goes, Caught the devil by the nose." It was said that he seized one of his tempters with a pair of red-hot pincers. You will see that Dunstan was a very earnest sort of person, and in his earnestness he tried to set things straight. He wished to bring the secular clergy into more religious and less worldly ways. Odo Arch- Another strong man at this time was Arch bishop, bishop Odo. He seems to have begun the ¦ 94"-959- vig0rous policy. Odo was a forceful man, not much troubled with scruples in the exercise of his power. Odo and Dunstan together were able to achieve much, but their severity was cruel, and therefore impolitic, for cruelty is almost always shortsighted. These men in their fiery zeal made war upon nature, and no man makes war upon nature without provoking retribution. They sought to make the secular clergy practically monks. They tried to enforce in England the rule that the clergy should not marry; thus they destroyed the homes of the clergy, and thought they were doing a good thing. They did not see that some of the worst evils of the monastic system sprang up because the monks were not allowed to marry. Blind to this, they tried to enforce the celibacy of the secular clergy also. Like most men of autocratic temperament, Odo and Dunstan could brook no oppo sition. Edwy, the King, did not quite favour their policy. There were thus two parties in the kingdom: those who favoured Dunstan and Odo, and those who supported the King. The conflict gave rise to a story of revenge. Edwy io52] EDGAR AND DUNSTAN 63 was sincerely attached to Elgiva, his wife, to whom he had been married about the time he ascended the throne; but because she was, according to the Church laws of the time, too near of kin for him to marry, Dunstan would not allow that she was his wife. Edwy seems to have been foolish and shortsighted ; he banished Dunstan, but he found the power of Dunstan's party too strong, and, perhaps as a concession, he agreed to quit his wife. There are stories which tell us that the beautiful Elgiva was cruelly treated by the bishops, but we are not certain what really happened. Shortly after he had put away his wife King Edwy died, a.d. 959, and was buried at Winchester. Edgar succeeded Edwy, and on the death of Odo Dunstan was made Archbishop of Canterbury. Edgar seems to have been completely under Dunstan's influence. Dunstan then proceeded to press a.d. 939-975.' his policy of reducing all the clergy into sub jection to rules. He endeavoured to introduce strict rules into the monasteries, and this was much needed; but not content with this he tried to enforce the same rules upon both kinds of clergy; this practically meant abolishing the seculars. Naturally the great conflict took place about the marriage of the clergy. Up to this time the marriage of the clergy had been recognised. Now Dunstan and the King used all their power against it. The secular clergy were deprived of their benefices where this could be done successfully. At length a conference was held at Calne (978). The parties were almost equally divided. Bishop Beornhelm pleaded the cause of the married clergy. Dunstan did not attempt to reply by argument. He fell back upon the plea so often urged by those who — and they are the majority — ¦ are governed by prejudice, the plea of some supposed divine authority. Perhaps he felt the weakness of this, for of 64 DANES AND ANGLO-SAXONS [925- course none such existed, so he added the somewhat ungenerous plea of his own age and his wish for peace. It was not the first time nor the last when the disturber of peace has pleaded peace as a reason for having every thing his own way. Finally, Dunstan " committed his cause to the Lord," and then a curious thing happened. The flooring gave way, and the opponents of Dunstan fell among the ruins, while Dunstan and his supporters were left standing unhurt. This calamity or conspiracy secured victory to Dunstan. God's voice or man's guile had given an indisputable verdict. The cause of reasonableness and truth was for the time defeated by the combined powers of craft, superstition, and arrogance. Thus many weaknesses and grave faults marked the lives even of good men. Their motives were good and their lives were devoted, but their characters were far from perfect. Their mistakes added to the difficulties through which the National Church had to steer her way. I have told you of the blemishes of great men, but I want you to realise their good points also. Dunstan was „ , „ zealous and earnest, even though he was high- Good Laws. ° ° handed and prejudiced. He used his power tyrannically, but he secured for his Church and nation some excellent laws. The clergy were to discourage sorcery and heathen worship of fountains, stones, and trees. They were, in fact, to oppose idolatry; they were to see that children learned the Lord's Prayer and the Creed; they were to preach to the people; they were to avoid playing with dice ; they were to divert themselves with their book. These were all sound, good rules, but mixed up with them we find others which show how very much even the en lightened people of those times were influenced Superstitions. , . . by superstition. We see also, from some of the regulations which were made, how greatly the simple Christianity of Christ and His apostles had deteriorated. io52] DANES AND ENGLISH 65 For instance, when men had done wrong they were required to make satisfaction; but when we look what sort of satisfaction was required, we feel how very heathen were men's ideas. Satisfaction meant the doing or giving of something, which was looked upon as an equivalent of the wrong which had been done. Too little attention was given to the truth that the follower of Christ must love good and hate evil just because he is Christ's. Too much was made of the outward tokens of repentance. The tendency was to treat everything as a sort of payment or fine, and it was no matter how the fine was paid. A rich man could make all right by paying others to help him ; for instance, he could escape the penance of seven years' fasting by getting eight hundred and forty men to fast for him for three days. Thus the man's conscience was put to sleep ; his will, his affections, and reason were not enlisted against the evil. You will see how easy it would be for a man to go on in wrong courses when he could always employ others, if he were only rich enough, to bear the inconvenient consequences. Such teaching does not and cannot make good men, for a good man is one who knows that he is God's child, and loves to follow good for his Father's sake. Such a man would scorn all tricky evasions. His moral nature would recoil from entering upon a bargain to avoid doing and being what God wished him to do and be. The story of England, as the close of the tenth cen tury draws near, was one of war, trouble, and treachery. The war between the English and the Danes straggle grew very fierce, and seemed like a struggle between of life and death. As many of the Danes e^*1"1 settled in England had become Christians, the monasteries which had been restored owing to the rough energy of Dunstan, were not attacked and pillaged as they once had been, but were in some cases rich enough to buy off their enemies, for those who are not strong enough to F 66 DANES AND ANGLO-SAXONS [925- win with steel can sometimes win by gold. After much fighting, and many acts of cruelty and treachery, a treaty between the Danes and English was arranged, and Cnut, the Danish King, became ruler of half the country, for Edmund Ironsides and Cnut, after much fighting, agreed to divide the land between them. You can understand that at a time when fierce wars were raging all over the country men's minds were distracted by terror and inflamed by passion. Reverence and humanity were forgotten ; hostages were mutilated ; massacres were plotted and carried out ruthlessly. Men lost all pitiful and brotherly feelings. What has rarely been known among the debased negro tribes — brother sold brother, the father the son, the son his mother. There are times when the best thing which can happen to a country is that power should fall into the hands of Cnutj one strong man. Torn, distracted, demoralised, a.d. England wanted a strong ruler. This she found when, on the death of Edmund Ironsides, Caniite, or Cnut, became sole king. Cnut had been a vigorous warrior. The English might well have dreaded his rule, and it is true that in the beginning of his reign murders and banishments were common, but as soon as he felt sure of his power he showed the gentler and better side of his character. He began to encourage the Christian religion ; he built churches; he showed his large and generous spirit in erecting Encourage- and endowing an abbey on the spot where the ment of English king, who had suffered martyrdom at the hands of the earlier Danes, had been buried. Moreover, he ruled so justly that the Anglo- Saxons appear to have made no complaints against his government. He assembled the Witenagemot, or Council of the Wise Men, and laws dealing with the welfare of the Church were passed. The distinction between 1052] KING CNUT 67 secular and ecclesiastical authorities was not insisted on, perhaps it was not even felt. The Church was represented, and the laws passed were gradually accepted. They were full of exhortations — to the clergy to act as shepherds and to give wise instructions to their flocks; to the people to live Christian lives, to receive " housel," that is, the Holy Communion, three times a year, and to learn the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. Penalties were enacted against work on Sunday. In some respects the laws agreed upon at this time were a repetition of , those passed in the previous century, when Edgar was king. Those which dealt with Church dues and fees, fasts and feasts, were practically the same. Cnut showed the sincerity of his character by the personal trouble he was ready to take. He journeyed to Denmark to conclude a treaty of peace ; he also went on a pilgrimage to Rome. Perhaps the greatness of his character, and the wisdom of his reign, were best shown by the disasters which followed his death (1035). For seven years TroabIes discord prevailed. His empire was divided, after The bishoprics fell into the hands of weak Cnut's Death- and unworthy men. In some instances they were bought and sold. Thus corruption spread once more in the highest places, and every patriotic person was glad when at last the old English line of kings was restored in the person of Edward. In bringing this about Lyfing, Bishop of Worcester, exercised much influence. He was a true patriot, and a friend of the great Earl Godwin. Lyfing had been a favourite of Cnut, and had been bishop over Devonshire and Cornwall, but in the con fused period which followed the death of Cnut Lyfing had been hardly used by the tyrannical Danish king Harthacnut. Harthacnut died suddenly " as he stood at his drink." He attended the wedding feast of his standard-bearer Tofig ; he drank to the health of the 68 DANES AND ANGLO-SAXONS [925- wedded pair and fell down dead. Then Lyfing successfully exerted his power on behalf of Edward, who belonged to the line of Cerdic and Ethelred. But the accession of Edward brought some dangers to the Church. Edward had spent much of his life in Edward the Normandy ; he had formed foreign friendships, Confessor, and he brought over foreigners to fill vacant io4j-io66. posts in the English Church. This action was not likely to be popular. But besides this, these foreigners had no sympathy with English independence or the free dom of the National Church. We have seen how prone the Pope of Rome was to interfere in English affairs ; but now that foreigners came, independence wn0 were accustomed to submit to the rule of of the Church the Bishops of Rome, the independence of the weakened. English church was sadly weakened. "We now first hear of bishops going to Rome for consecration or confirmation, and of the Roman court claiming at least a veto on the nomination of the English king," writes Professor Freeman. The Church under Edward had peace, but she paid too high a price for it. She became less national and less free. The foreign Norman bishops were full of petty scruples about small matters, and were ready at all times to refer to Rome. There were in this way two parties in the Church, the foreign and the national parties ; and the history of the generation which preceded the Norman conquest is full of the struggles between them. They seem to have been pretty evenly balanced. The influence of the King was on the side of the foreign party. The national party had the sup port of Earl Godwin, and afterwards of Harold. The churchman who was most prominent in this party was Stigand, who, in 1047, became Bishop of Winchester. He was not a favourite of King Edward. He was suspected of having aided Queen Emma in her plans SEALS OF EDWARD THE CONFESSOR. From an impression in the British Museum, To face j io52] FOREIGN BISHOPS 69 on behalf of a Danish prince ; but however this may be, the popular dislike of the foreign bishops increased, for like so many people who have influence and possess the ear of the King, they showed little justice or consideration in the use of their power. They further alienated national feeling by their servile devotion to Rome. Moreover, at Rome affairs were not conducted after a fashion to foster respect, for servility to the Roman court was open to bribery. Favour- Rome am°ne able decisions could be won by money. For English instance, Ulf, an incompetent man, of whom Bishops. the chronicler says "he did nothing bishoplike, so that it shames us now to tell more," obtained the Pope's confirma tion of his appointment to the see of Dorchester by giving what men called "the greater treasures." Thus national feelings were outraged, and the climax was reached when, on the death of Archbishop Eadsige, the King selected Robert, the Bishop of London, to fill the see of Canter bury. Robert, a Norman, was the most unpopular among the already unpopular foreign bishops. This unpopularity was increased by the fact that the monks of Canterbury elected to the vacant archbishopric j5Clfric, one of their number, a kinsman of Earl Godwin. Robert, the newly- appointed Archbishop, gave further offence to English feeling by refusing to consecrate Spearhafoc, Abbot of Abingdon, who had been appointed to the see of London. His refusal was a strong measure, but his reason made matters worse, for he declared that the Pope had forbidden him. Thus an Englishman, appointed to an English office by the king and his Witan, was to be kept out of its full possession by one foreigner acting at the alleged bidding of another. Unfortunately the foreign in- Revivalof fluence was, for the moment, too strong. The National English party were worsted. Earl Godwin was FeehnB' banished; but within a year he returned with Harold 70 DANES AND ANGLO-SAXONS [925-1052 his son, and the foreigners knew that the sympathy of the people was with the great English earl, and that they had provoked the resentment of the nation, and they were anxious to get out of the country. This is the way the chronicler tells the story: "Archbishop Robert, with Bishop Ulf and their companions, went out at East- gate (London) and slew and otherwise maltreated many young men, and straightway betook themselves to Eadulfsness (Walton-on-Naze) and there lighted on a crazy ship, and he betook himself at once over the sea, and left his pall and all Christianity here in the country, so as God willed it, as he had before obtained the dignity as God willed it not." The Witan declared the bishops to be outlaws, Stigand, and Stigand became Archbishop of Canterbury, Archbishop, although some people felt doubts about his ' IOSJ' right to the office. yElfric had been elected archbishop by the monks at Canterbury, so that Stigand lacked the customary election, and the foreigners, who believed that no appointment was valid without the con sent of the Pope, of course did not think him rightfully appointed. Stigand, moreover, was weak enough to think that his position would be more sure if he possessed the pall, so he seized the pall which Archbishop Robert had left behind. It is remarkable, too, that even Harold seemed to have misgivings about Stigand's appointment. But a great change had been made, the English party had triumphed. The Norman influence was weakened, and, though there were still many foreign bishops, William, Bishop of London, was now the only Norman bishop. But that meant that across the seas there were many discontented and disap pointed foreigners who were ready to use any excuse for supporting the enemies of the English. CHAPTER VIII. THE CHURCH UNDER NORMAN INFLUENCES A.D. IO66-I087 We now come to that great event which wrought such a change in the course of English history — the Norman Conquest. When Edward the Confessor died, the English people turned their thoughts towards Harold, a man of capacity and courage, and the son of the great Earl Godwin. Harold was crowned at Westminster in the early part of 1066. Before the year ended, the fatal fight had been fought and William of Normandy had been crowned in the same abbey. It is not necessary to tell the story of the conquest. It is enough to recall to you Harold's noble and patriotic struggle in the interests of the people of England ; how he defeated Harold Hardrada and Tostig with the Norse invaders at Stamford Bridge ; how two selfish earls, Eadwine and Morkere, whom he had rescued from destruction, gave him no help in the hour of his need ; how he fought and fell at the battle of Senlac (Hastings). The skill and inexorable firmness of William the Conqueror prevailed everywhere; within four years he was acknowledged master of the whole kingdom. The social and legislative changes naturally took much longer to accomplish. In administering the kingdom William I. showed great wisdom. He managed to make each of the three great sections of the kingdom — the English nation, the earls, and the Church — dependent on 71 72 NORMAN INFLUENCES [1066- himself : he was able to rule by separating the sections of society from one another and at the same time attaching them to himself. Moreover, he cleverly seized upon the English principle that the king was the head of the nation, and claimed from all a direct fealty which could not be set aside or intercepted by any fealty to a great lord. The man who owed fealty to a great lord owed in fact an earlier fealty to the king. William resolved to be real head of the nation: he meant to be king in fact as well as in name. He soon found out that he could not be loved by the people whom he had conquered, and he was determined therefore that all the places of influence should be filled by friends of his throne. He was cruel, but his cruelty was that of a com manding rather than of a vicious nature. He resorted to the severest measures against the conquered people, for he was determined to leave them as little influence and power as possible. The Norman Conquest brought with it foreign habits and customs which effected considerable changes. Life waiiam the m England was no longer the same, and the Conqueror's changes altered the complexion of the Church Policy. of England- We must try t0 understand the character of these influences. Now the bishops in England exercised considerable power ; they were leading men amongst the people ; their Norman position, their wealth, and their learning gave Bishops. them authority and influence. William resolved that the bishoprics should be filled as little as possible by Englishmen, and as much as possible by his friends the Normans. He accordingly began to depose some of the English bishops, and his task was made the easier because, as you will remember, King Edward had brought a great many foreigners into the English bishoprics, so that at the time of the Conquest perhaps half of the bishoprics were held by foreigners. But William, not satisfied with thisj io87] NORMAN BISHOPS 73 took strong measures, and in the end only one English man was left in an English bishopric. Naturally the first to suffer was Stigand, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had taken a leading part in supporting Harold, and was consequently distrusted by William the Norman. Unfortunately, too, Stigand was in a difficult position, for he had been appointed to the archbishopric of Canterbury while Archbishop Robert was yet alive. This and some other matters gave to William what he wanted, a pretext for deposing Stigand. William from the first had acted as though Stigand's primacy was doubtful, for he had been crowned not by the Archbishop of Canterbury, but by Ealdred, Archbishop of York. William's policy of excluding Englishmen from all Church preferment was a thorough-going policy. " For a long time," says Mr. Freeman, "the appointment of an Englishman to a bishopric is unknown, and even to a great abbey it is extremely rare." This fact makes the position of Wulfstan, the only English bishop left, all the more remarkable. He remained Bishop of Worcester, and his case is an illustration that a strong character and saintly life can command the respect even of hostile minds. Wulfstan had lived for his work, had sought only to do good, and so he was strong with a strength not of this world. He remained in his see ; he rebuilt his cathedral ; he ruled his diocese vigorously, and his name must be associated with his endeavour to abolish that crying evil — the slave trade between England and Ireland. He journeyed to Bristol, and by his earnestness and elo quence he influenced the merchants, and in a great degree diminished the traffic. We must not think, however, that the foreign bishops introduced by William were deficient in Christian zeal. In point of fact, much good in some directions church resulted from their appointment. They had Buildine- 74 NORMAN INFLUENCES [1066- great ideas of architecture, and noble minsters and cathedrals grew up in different parts of the country. Learning was developed. Bishop Osmund, of Salisbury, for instance, gathered together clerks from every quarter, who edited, copied, and bound books. To him the nation owed an amended breviary with a missal,* which was very generally used as an English service book, and is known by the name of the Sarum Use. The Church, too, was more distinctly organised. As almost all the bishops were foreign a greater unity of pur pose and feeling was possible, and the influence organisation of Lanfranc. whom William appointed to the see of Canterbury (1070), was exerted on the side of a vigorous and energetic Church life. The dispute for precedence between York and Canterbury was if not finally, yet practically settled, and Canterbury was given that primacy which it has continued to exercise ever since, while the Archbishop of York was recognised as metro politan of the north, though with probably a diminished province. But there were difficulties and troubles, for the people suffered severely from the Norman sway, and it is not to be supposed that they loved the Norman bishops. The struggle between the secular and the regular clergy still continued, and on this point Lanfranc, who generally supported William, was not at one with the King. The King and many of the nobles favoured the secular clergy, and were willing to see them members of the Cathedral Chapters. The secular clergy were many of them married; the regular clergy were unmarried. There had been grow ing up a feeling in ecclesiastical minds against the marriage of the clergy, and the contest of opinion pressed for * The Breviary was the Book of Daily Services. The Missal was that of the Mass, the name then in use for the mediaeval Communion Office. io87] POWER, CIVIL & ECCLESIASTICAL 75 settlement, but the settlement reached was not a very satisfactory one. A canon was passed which allowed only unmarried clergymen to be members of the Chapter, and which forbade the secular clergy from marrying in the future, but allowed those who were already married to keep their wives. Though the canon was passed, it was never strictly observed in England. The feeling in the country was too strong against it. Another conflict also grew up which had been com paratively unknown in earlier times. This was the conflict between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities. William attempted a separation between the be°t^een two. He disclaimed any intention of inter- Civil and fering with the bishops' authority. Cases which A^ri"!**1 concerned religious matters were to be judged by the bishop, and those who scorned or refused the bishop's jurisdiction were in the last resort to be excom municated. A distinction was thus set up between civil and ecclesiastical authority, and this meant an enormous change. Under former English rule ecclesiastical affairs were national,, and national affairs largely ecclesiastical; everything which belonged to the interest of the nation was religious, and everything touching the religion of the people was national ; but now the interests were supposed to be separate, and the possibility of a conflict between the two authorities became imminent. The clergy had a civic status which they did not possess before, and the Church courts had authority over many matters with which they previously had little to do. The clergy, more over, were able to claim exemption from the temporal tribunals, and by appeals to Rome to paralyse the regular jurisdiction of the diocese. In all this there were the seeds of disorder ; confusion of interests followed, and the struggle once begun continued till the Reformation. You will see that in this way powers were recognised 76 NORMAN INFLUENCES [1066- which might come into conflict with the King, and the idea of an appeal to a foreigner like the Pope made such a conflict more probable. Moreover, the thePpope ° foreign bishops were more ready to appeal to Rome than the English bishops had been, for they had less national feeling. In this way the power of ecclesiastical influences outside of English life were strengthened. William himself was not a man to be trifled with, and as long as he lived his own personal vigour and character acted as a preservative of peace. He had no notion of permitting the Pope to invade his rights, and when Gregory demanded that he should render homage for the realm of England, he refused it at once. All prece dent was against it. His predecessors had never done so. " There was no time," says Professor Freeman, " when the royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical was more fully carried out than it was in the days of the Conqueror." You will see, then, that the Norman Conquest introduced a great deal that was good— order, better organisation, Loss of greater vigour, more cohesion among the National authorities. But one great loss was the loss of national feeling; the country was divided between the conquerors and the conquered, and as the Church was almost wholly administered by foreigners, it lacked that national complexion which it had in the days of English rule. It was now a splendid organisation, administered by men who were not Englishmen ; by men, therefore, who had little or no national feeling, but more or less strong ecclesiastical tendencies, and who, in many cases, had very little regard for the tastes and habits of the English. Out of this arose conflicts. Noble abbeys and cathedrals grew up under the hands of a race who delighted in architecture ; but within the walls of these buildings painful strife often broke out. Old customs, endeared by many associations, were ordered to be io87] NORMAN INFLUENCE 77 abandoned. At Glastonbury, for instance, Thurstan ordered the monks to give up their Gregorian chants, and to use those of William of Fecamp. Ritualistic disputes arose; the conflict waxed furious; the monks resisted the change; the abbot called in the help of armed soldiery, and three of the monks were killed and eighteen wounded. So severe was the rule of Turold at Malmesbury that King William transferred the abbot to Peterborough, thinking that his military gifts might be valuable against Hereward. Still more unworthy was the attitude of the Norman ecclesiastics towards the names of those who were enshrined in the hearts of the English people. They disdained the saints whom Englishmen loved, and even Lanfranc, though afterwards regretful, set the example of slandering the memory and denying the Christian courage of St. yElphege. It is one of the sad illustrations of the narrowness of religious and race preju dice that a man of Lanfranc's ability could not realise the goodness and sanctity of other lands. Fortunately for us, the very admixture of race and influence which has worked together in the formation of the English State and Church has given us a wider and more truly Christian feeling. We can recognise and thank God for the good ness of all good men. What we owe to St. Aidan and St. Colman, St. ^Elphege and St. Dunstan, and St. Augus tine, can never be forgotten by those who believe that every good gift is from God. CHAPTER IX. CHURCH AND STATE CONFLICTS A.D. 1087-1100 Although the progress of Christianity is independent of the lives of kings, yet, nevertheless, the fortunes of William Christianity have frequently been hindered Rufus, or helped by them. We shall see this in 1087-noo. ^ rejgn 0f -William Rufus. He was a man who had all the vices and none of the virtues of his father ; where his father was strong, William Rufus was violent ; where his father was firm, the son was obstinate. The father had some reverence for the Church, the son had littje or none, but e«ly- looked upon the Church system .as a convenient means of enriching himself when alive, and perhaps of saving his wretched soul when he was dead. In past times one great evil of the Church was simony,* as the sale and purchase of bishoprics and abbacies was called. This had gone on to a large extent in England ; it was winked at and practised at the papal court, but it is to the credit of William the Conqueror that he had never openly sanctioned it. With William Rufus, however, simony was reduced to a system. A wretched person of the name of Ranulf Flambard, who was the King's justiciary, conducted the traffic in Church preferment. As long as Lanfranc lived the King was a * The word was derived from Simon Magus, who, as we read in Acts viii. , thought that the gift of God could be purchased by money. 78 1087-1100] ANSELM 79 little afraid of introducing this system, but when he was gone the men who paid the highest price had the best chance of preferment. Such a state of things meant degradation all round; sacred posts could hardly be reverenced when they were sold for money, and those who were ready to buy them for money were not the persons best fitted to fill them. But for all times good men are raised up, and the history of the Church in the reign of William Rufus is largely the history of one man — Anselm. Anselm was a native of Aosta ; he became an inmate of Bee when Lanfranc made the abbey famous by his teaching. From Bee, to the abbacy of which Anselm had succeeded, he found his way to Anselm' • j 1093-1114. England. One of his visits coincided with a time of great distress. Lanfranc, the Archbishop, had died, and William Rufus was keeping the primacy vacant in order that he might benefit by its revenues. Christian people were scandalised at this, and it was proposed that prayer should be offered in the churches that God would dispose the heart of the King to make an appoint ment. Anselm was asked to draw up the form of prayer ; the King, however, treated the affair scornfully. "The Church," he said, "may pray as it likes, but I shall do as I please." Rufus, who regarded money as one of the chief things in the world, thought that Anselm would do anything in order to become Archbishop of Canterbury ; he did, not believe in the integrity of men or holiness of spirit. But William, who in spite of his scornful way had a selfish dread of the hereafter, was taken ill at Gloucester, and thinking he was dying sent for Anselm. He was in that desperate mood which is ready to promise anything; he pledged himself to lead a good life, to govern justly, and he even promised to fill up the archbishopric ; and Anselm, 80 CHURCH AND STATE CONFLICTS [1087- to the joy of everybody, was appointed. But when the King recovered he forgot — as people are wont to do — his good intentions ; he even regarded his illness as a sort of injury inflicted on him by God. " God," he said, " shall have no goodness from me because of the evil He inflicted on me." Anselm would not accept the archbishopric without some promise of fair dealing on the part of the King, and Disputes ne made some proposals to William Rufus, but with the they could not reach an agreement. Unfortu- inff' nately the attitude of Anselm on some points was not a wise one. He believed greatly in the see of Rome; he did not sympathise, as an Englishman would have done, with English independence, and he sometimes asked things which the King could not agree to, and which no one would have dared to ask of William the Conqueror. And thus in the conflict between Anselm and William, William the bad man was not always wrong, and Anselm the good man was not always right ; for the best men have their weaknesses, and the worst men have their good side. It is, moreover, curious to notice that the things which people quarrel most about are the things not worth fighting for, and that the best things are those which are seldom fought over. In this way Anselm was an irritating antagonist. He could insist with provoking pertinacity upon trifles which it seemed churlish to refuse to so devoted a man, while in contending for greater questions his unblemished character added fictitious force to his arguments. The splendour of his saintli- ness gave him great advantage when he was right, and made him appear right when he was wrong. Had Anselm thought only of bringing the king to a love of righteousness and a truly Christian life — which we may be sure he did most earnestly desire — he might have avoided some of those conflicts by which he lost his influence. uoo] DEATH OF RUFUS 81 Quarrel after quarrel broke out ; Anselm was resolute ; the King loved his own way ; and unfortunately at this time there was trouble at Rome, for two popes claimed the right of ruling the Church. Anselm supported Pope Urban, and wanted the King to do the same. The King tried to turn the tables upon Anselm by bribing Urban ; he was ready to recognise Urban as Pope on condition that the Pope deposed Anselm. He partly succeeded, for he got from the Pope the pall, and then tried to make Anselm pay a sum of money to get it. Anselm refused, and the King gave way. At length Anselm, despairing of reforms, thought he might succeed by going to Rome and securing the Pope's influence. His absence was bad every way, for the King now did much as he pleased, and Deathof there was no bishop strong enough to resist Rufus, him. When things were in this state, however, IIC°' William Rufus fell by the arrow which was shot by one of his followers in the New Forest. Good causes are often damaged by the selfi hness of men. The cause of religion has suffered in this way. We read, for instance, of the struggle between the State Much and the Church, but it is not always a noble Worldliness conflict. When we reach the battle-ground we find not a battle of two rival principles, but a shameful struggle in which the greed, the ambition, and the selfish ness of men take their share. Kings and their officials oppress the Church because they want to have it in their power to squeeze money out of it. Great bishops and abbots fight for the independence of the Church, not because they wish it to be free, but because they wish to be free to make their fortunes out of it. The patriotic utterances of the kings who resisted the encroachments of the Church were not always spoken out of love of their country. The ecclesiastics who declared that they could not surrender the cause of God at the bidding of 82 CHURCH AND STATE CONFLICTS [roS7- man, even though that man was a king, were too often animated by personal ambition. Even good men like Anselm mistook the suggestion of very earthly impulses , for the voice of God. They readily believed that the cause in which their own wishes were bound up must be a good cause ; and in Church matters this is peculiarly the case, for it is very easy to mistake the aggrandize ment of the Church for the advance of religion. We must be careful to remember this, lest we should ever come to think that what makes for the interests of an organi sation is necessarily well pleasing to God. But we must remember it for another reason — we must remember it that we may not judge harshly of those who took part in the great struggles of other days ; for we ought to recall how easy it is to be deceived, that we may think as kindly as we can of the actors in days of conflict and confusion. Now the great conflict which troubled England, and, indeed, all Europe, was the conflict about Investiture. The The Battle bishops, when appointed, were invested with about the symbols of their office and rank. Some times we read in the newspapers that the Queen has held an investiture. On these occasions she decorates the various distinguished men with the insignia of their rank. Bishops, in the days we are speaking of, were "invested" with ring and crozier as symbols of their office and dignity. Out of this the conflict arose. Who had the right to invest the bishop with these symbols — was it the King or the Pope ? You will see that it was a deeper question than, Who was to perform the ceremony of investiture ? It was the question, Who gave him his rights ? Or, in the language of the time, Whose man was the new bishop? Was he the King's man or the Pope's man? The King said, "He holds office in my kingdom ; he serves in my country ; he must be my man, and I claim the right to make him so, I must perform the investiture." The noo] QUESTION OF INVESTITURE 83 Pope said, " He is an officer of the Church, he is my man, and I claim the right." Everybody would have allowed that the bishop had a spiritual character and a spiritual work to fulfil ; but this I am afraid was forgotten on both sides, and if the real end of religion, and the real purpose of a bishop's office, had been kept in mind, many of the reasons of the quarrel would have disappeared ; but there was much worldliness on both sides, and the matter was fought out with mixed motives. A council was held at the Vatican, in Rome, one year before the close of the eleventh century. Many ecclesi astics were present. The council became Counci] excited, and as is the way with ecclesiastical at Rome, assemblies, they used very strong language. I0"' The right of kings in this matter was denounced. It was declared to be an execrable thing that those employed in sacred things should become servants of men who were polluted with obscenity and stained with blood. This meant that emperors and kings were wicked, and bishops should not be the servants of wicked princes. It was forgotten that the ministers of Christ might be servants of men without being servants of their wickedness. The excitement was stimulated by the strong language used ; clamorous voices advocated no surrender. The shout went up, " Be it so ! " " Be it so ! " Among those who were present at this council was Anselm, who, during his visit to Rome, had been treated with great and flattering respect. Anselm caught something of the excitement and spirit of Rome ; he was infected by the uncompromising mood of the council. When he was in this mood he was recalled to England, for William the Red was no more and Henry I. reigned in his stead. CHAPTER X. ANSELM AND BECKET A.D. IIOO-H54 The death of Rufus, however, did not put an end to the troubles between Anselm and the crown. Henry did not Accession of ^ee^ 1u'te sure of his throne, for his elder Henry i. brother Robert was still alive, and partly be- ' ' IIO°' cause he was wise, and partly to secure his interests, he felt that he must do something to conciliate both the Church and nation. He issued a charter in which he pledged himself to give up the " evil customs '' of William Rufus ; he repudiated the money-getting policy of Flambard : he recalled Anselm ; he declared that the Church should be free, that he would neither tamper with its property nor extort money during the vacancy of benefices. These were important concessions, but he made no promise about investiture. He still claimed the right of appointing and investing bishops. He, moreover, called on Anselm to do homage. Anselm refused. He would be guided only by the Pope. The King and Anselm both sent messengers to the Pope, but they returned with different versions of the Pope's decision. The Pope, it seemed, had played a double part, speaking smooth things to the messengers on both sides. Thus the matter remained unsettled. Meanwhile, as might -be expected, men began to take sides in the quarrel, and Anselm reaped the reward which a strong man who knows his own mind seldom fails to reap — he became the champion of his cause ; he breathed his 84 noo-54] HENRY I. AND ANSELM 85 own courage into the hearts of timid partisans. The bishops who had shown a servile deference to King Rufus were emboldened to resist Henry. In vain the King tried persuasions and threats. Anselm would do nothing without the Pope. "What has the Pope to do with my concerns ? " demanded the King. " I would rather lose my head," said Anselm, " than yield in this ! " So the controversy raged. Fruitless journeys were taken to Rome. Anselm himself went there. On his way home he was warned that the King did not want him in England unless he was prepared to yield. People at home grew weary of the controversy, which seemed to be endless. It was nothing at all but a contrivance of the devil to vex the English Church. So men said when they saw the evils around. Disorder, neglect, and immorality prevailed in the country. Anselm was blamed for his absence. Letters were sent imploring him to come home. At length circumstances opened the way to a settlement. The Pope „ , . . * Compromise. saw that matters were going too far. He enjoined Anselm to release from excommunication those who had supported the King's policy. A friendly confer ence took place between the King and Anselm. This was followed by a great gathering of lay and ecclesiastical dignitaries, and a compromise was at length arranged. The ring and pastoral staff were no longer to be given by king or by layman, but the election of bishops was to take place in the King's presence, and every bishop was allowed to do homage to the King. "These things being so settled," writes Eadmer, " in almost all the churches of England, which had been long widowed of their pastors, by the counsel of Anselm and the nobles, without any investi ture of pastoral staff or ring fathers were instituted by the king." It was probably the best compromise. The Church men were right in not wishing to allow any ceremony which seemed to rob them of their moral independence; the 86 ANSELM AND BECKET [noo- King was right in his resolve that the throne should remain the fountain of honour and power in England. The arrangement which was made recognised the authority of the King, and yet did not compromise the spiritual independence of those who believed that they had a message from God to mankind. The freedom of the Church was needful, that it might fulfil its prophetic office ; the royal supremacy was needful for orderly government. The compromise expressed the desire to recognise both these needs. Anselm did not long survive this compromise. His closing days were troubled by the intrigues of those who York sought to break up the unity of the English attempts Church by making the see of York independent Independence. c /-. . , mi , , , , of Canterbury. Thomas, who had been nom inated to York, sought to avoid the necessity of professing obedience to Canterbury. He calculated that Anselm's life could not last long, and he delayed his own consecra tion in the hope that when the strong hand of Anselm was removed the promise of obedience would not be insisted on. But Anselm's influence, even after his death, was sufficient to prevent this lapse of the rights of Canterbury. The King sustained the authority of Canterbury, and Thomas was compelled to declare his obedience. The troubled and anxious life of Anselm closed upon April 2 ist, nog. It must be admitted that his troubles were largely of his own making. He has been DeathTiioa. caAed a man of one idea. This is, of course, not literally true. He was a man of true devoutness of spirit; he was a keen logician and meta physician; he was widely read; he was familiar with the learning of his day. But when he entered upon the official life of Archbishop of Canterbury he formed an exaggerated idea of Church rights. He saw in the royal supremacy a danger to the Church, and he could nof ii54] ANSELM'S POLICY 87 realise its value as a unifying power in the kingdom. In his anxiety to make the Church independent of the King he went far towards selling her freedom to the Pope, for he became the advocate of papal claims, little realising the inheritance of evil which he was bequeathing to his country. " Thus," says Dean Church, speaking of Anselm's visit to Rome in the reign of William Rufus, "thus began that system of appeals to Rome, and of inviting foreign interference in our home concerns, which grew to such a mischievous and scandalous height, and Anselm was the beginner of it." This is substantially true, though as a fact the man who began the system was William of St. Carileph. Anselm, therefore, must bear the blame of a policy which betrayed the true freedom of the National Church, and jeopardised that of the nation itself. But although Anselm is to be blamed for this, and for the somewhat petulant fashion in which he refused to do anything unless everything could be arranged as he wished it, yet in other respects he did well for English life. His own devoutness was of untold benefit. It added to his influence, it gave force to his words and deeds; but it did more. A higher ideal of office was set before men; bishops realised that they were not to be mere lacqueys of the Crown, but that it was their duty to bear witness to the moral and spiritual laws by which even kings were bound. With a diffusion of this ideal a marked improve ment took place, and in this we must recognise the personal influence of Anselm. But the Church policy of Anselm soon brought forth evil fruit. The Pope, having been allowed the chance of interfering in English affairs, was not slow m Effects to push his advantage further. The next of Anselm's quarrel which arose was concerning papal Pohcy' legates. From time to time legates had come from the 88 ANSELM AND BECKET [noo- Pope to England on some spiritual errand. The legate was a kind of plenipotentiary who came on a particular mission, but a permanent legate had never been allowed in England. It was felt, and rightly felt, that the presence of such a papal official might lead to the subjugation of the Church to the see of Rome. In 1 1 1 5 the Pope attempted to introduce such a perma nent official. Anselm, a nephew of the great Archbishop, a permanent was seni ^Y the Pope with a commission to Legate, act as legate. The Pope seems to have IIIS' been moved to this action partly by the influence of this Anselm, and partly by his anger at the independent attitude of the English Church. He felt that some step must be taken to assert his authority. The claim, however, which was thus made by the Pope roused the greatest excitement in England. All classes, except the Romanising clergy and those who saw in such disputes an opportunity of personal advantage, were indignant at this fresh invasion of English liberty. When the Pope heard of the indignation he temporised. It so happened, however, that circumstances worked in favour of the new papal aggression. One of these circumstances was the rivalry between the sees of York and Canterbury. The Archbishops of York were desirous of making their juris diction completely independent of Canterbury. The Archbishop of Canterbury soon found that the intrigues of the Archbishop of York at Rome had been successful. The Pope, in spite of the promise made to the King, consecrated Thurstan Archbishop of York, and declared the independence of York. This action of the Pope increased the bitterness of feeling marvellously. Quarrels for precedence ensued. Church work was paralysed. In the- acute discussions between York and Canterbury the Pope found his opportunity. The archbishopric of Canterbury had fallen into the hands of one William de YORK MINSTER FROM THE SOUTH-EAST. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. "54] PAPAL LEGATE 89 Corbeil, in whom the Pope found a willing tool, for this William was ready to sacrifice anything, even the liberties of the English Church, if he could only secure authority over York. He entered into a bargain with the Pope; he would favour the sending of a papal legate if the Pope would support his claims over York. And further, he agreed that the dispute between Canterbury and York should be settled by a legate acting on behalf of the Pope. John, Cardinal of Crema, was sent over as legate. The English people were angered, for the legate was received with what appeared to them to be servile . . , , , L L Arrival of homage; he took precedence of all the great the Papal prelates and nobles of the land. " You might Lesate- see," to quote the indignant words of the monk Gervase, " you might see, a thing before unheard of in the kingdom of England, a clerk, forsooth, who had only^reached^the grade of the priesthood, taking precedence of archbishops, bishops, abbots, and all the nobles of the land; sitting upon a lofty throne, while they, sitting beneath him, were waiting for his nod. . . . The minds of many were gravely scandalised, for they saw in this both an unusual novelty and the destruction of the ancient liberties of the kingdom of England." But what was the King doing that such an innovation was allowed ? Where was the old in dependent spirit which led the English kings to resent foreign domination ? Here, again, circumstances favoured the action of the Pope. The King was growing anxious about the succes sion ; he greatly desired that his daughter Questionof Matilda should sit upon the throne after him ; the Royal he foresaw difficulties, and was well aware that Succession- without the support of the influential prelates of the Church his daughter's prospects would be doubtful; he accordingly endeavoured to conciliate the Romanising go ANSELM AND BECKET [noo- party in the hope of securing their support for Matilda. This was one of those weak policies which provoke failure, for it is never wise to conciliate ecclesiastical arrogance. He surrendered the dignity of England for an empty hope. The bishops were ready to promise, but promises weighed lightly on ambitious ecclesiastical minds, and the twice-pledged word of the bishops was broken. They were ready to sell their honour for power. But the King, relying upon their honour, raised no protest against the pompous progress of the papal legate. He came ; he treated great Englishmen with arrogant con tempt ; he extended the papal power into Scotland ; and finally he left without settling the controversy between Canterbury and York, it being the policy of Rome to keep open a quarrel by which the papal power might profit. Thus through the intriguing spirit of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the political weakness of the King, the aggressive spirit of Rome had gained an thePope important step at the expense of English liberty; but the crowning shame of the in trigue was yet to come, and it came through the hands into which the independence of the National Church had been entrusted. The Pope saw a way of establishing his sway over the English Church. If the Archbishop of Canterbury would consent to be papal legate in England, then he would rule as the representative of the Pope. The Archbishop, eager to establish his authority over York, accepted the position. Thus a blow was struck at the independence of the Church, and, as has been said, "the Archbishops of Canterbury were by this means stripped -of their rights, and clothed with the shadow of them." Thus it happened that through the political necessities of the King and the "personal ambition of the Primate the papal domination gained force in this country. ii54] CANTERBURY WEAKENED 91 On looking back we see that the steady love of power, which prevailed at Rome, was seconded by an adroit ness of policy which took advantage of every opportunity which the weakness or wickedness of national rulers afforded her to push her claims further and further. Anselm gave one opening by accepting the principle of appeal to Rome. William de Corbeil made a fatal sur render by degrading the position of the Primate of All England, the patriarch whom the churches of these islands regarded with veneration, the quasi papa alterius orbis, as he had been called, into that of a mere vassal of the Pope of Rome. The King, who had shown in the early days of his reign the fitting spirit of independence in resisting papal claims, moved by political and paternal fears, wavered weakly in his later days, and ©sly- gained for his daughter the empty promises of men who were void of honour. A The reign of Stephen began with the manifest perjury of the bishops and barons. To these men ecclesiastical or personal interests were more than their plighted faith. No doubt the times were full Stephen "1136. of violence, and they felt that a man's hand was needed (a woman's hand not being strong enough) to wield the sceptre. They therefore ignored their oath, and unblushingly accepted Stephen, who was crowned on St. Stephen's Day, a.d. 1136. Stephen swore to protect the Church in her freedom and in her revenues. "He made loud promises, but he kept none of these things," says the chronicler; "he broke his vows to God and his paction to the people." He was a man of naturally amiable disposition, but he had at his side unscrupulous advisers. These men pointed to the wealth of the churches, and told him that he need never want for money while the treasuries of the monasteries were full. Feudal anarchy broke out ; spoliation was common ; the 92 ANSELM AND BECKET [noo- poor were forgotten. From the north came trouble. David, King of Scotland, invaded England under pretext of supporting the cause of the Empress Matilda. Near Northallerton a great battle was fought. The spirit of the times is shown in what was done. You remember how in degenerate days the Israelites carried the ark into the battle. Something like this was done by the English. The consecrated host was brought into the fray. It was placed high upon a cart. Round it floated the banners of St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfred of Ripon. The battle was for this reason called "the battle of the Standard." The English won, but the Scottish king gained terms of peace which gave him a strong position on English soil. Civil war, too, came to increase the trouble of the times. Robert, Earl of Gloucester, half-brother to Matilda, stirred up revolt in the west. Many took advantage of the confusion, public interests were forgotten, and every man seemed to be fighting for his own aggrandizement. In this struggle for wealth and power the bishops and great Churchmen were not behindhand. Some rode about Worldliness armed for battle and eager for plunder. They of church- lost in public esteem, and the wonder is that they retained any respect at all. Yet there was a remnant of public respect, for when King Stephen laid violent hands on some of the overgrown wealth and estates of the Bishops of Salisbury and Lincoln he encountered a storm of public indignation. The King, moreover, had made one powerful enemy. His brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester, had set his affections on the primacy, but when the vacancy occurred, the King, not wishing to make his brother too powerful, supported the election of one Theobald, Abbot of Bee. When the King put himself in the wrong, by seizing the castles of the two bishops, the Bishop of Winchester, who had n54] THE FORGED DECRETALS 93 been appointed papal legate, summoned the King, his brother, to answer for the outrage. The King appeared by a representative, but he defied the legate and the bishops, who, seeing him so confident, "implored him not to allow a breach between Church and State." You will see thus what troublous times there were in the reign of Stephen. The central authority was so weak that the stronger men — the great prelates and feudal lords — made themselves powerful in their castles, desolated the surrounding country, and oppressed the poor. Taking advantage of this state of things the Church gained power against the King ; so much so that, notwithstanding the king's prohibition, Archbishop Theobald attended a council called by Pope Eugenius at Rheims in 1148. The King was justified in his prohibition, for ancient traditions, ever jealous for the freedom of the National Church, forbade the bishops to attend such a council. Archbishop Theobald escaped the vigilance of the King's officers, and reached France in a leaky boat. The King, exasperated, banished the Archbishop, who retaliated by placing the kingdom under an interdict. Thus rulers, moved by personal pique and ambition, or by one-sided views of duty, brought misery upon multitudes of innocent men and women. The world was made all too wretched for the people. The great lords and prelates ill-treated and imprisoned them ; the ministrations of the Church were denied them ; ingenious methods of torment were in vented ; starvation was common ; the voices of mercy and right were silent in the land. Men said that Christ slept. One work, which was destined to exercise considerable and, at times, disastrous influence upon the Church, made its appearance about this time. This was a work called Decretum ; it was a compilation or code Dee„et°{see of Church law. It contained, or was supposed to contain, the decrees of the Church on various matters ; 94 ANSELM AND BECKET [noo-54 it was used as a text-book in English Church courts ; it was largely based, though in all sincerity, upon a great collection of false or forged decretals, which had been made in the ninth century in order to magnify the power of the Pope. These false decretals were for a long time accepted as genuine, and by them men were led to believe that early Church councils had recog nised in some way or another the supremacy of the Bishop of Rome. This mistaken belief produced a wide spread deference to the Pope. Later on it was discovered that a wholesale forgery had been committed, that the writ ings of the Fathers had been tampered with, and that the much-vaunted supremacy of the Pope of Rome had not one single shred of evidence. Indeed, had such evidence existed there would have been no need of these forgeries. One interesting person is associated with the introduction of the decretals into England ; for Archbishop Theobald sent one of his clergy to Bologna to study the Church law. His name was Thomas Becket. The struggles of Stephen's reign lasted till 1153. Then Eustace his son died. Stephen, deprived of his heir, no longer cared to prolong the contest. A compromise was made. Stephen was to retain the crown ; Henry, son of Matilda, was to be acknowledged as heir. Stephen and Henry could now work together against the lawless barons, and the way towards better order was opened. In n 54 Stephen died, and the task of government fell into Henry's hands. CHAPTER XI. HENRY II. AND BECKET A.D. II54-H70 During the chaos of Stephen's reign the Church had gained power. It must be remembered, however, that there are two different kinds of power. There Growth of the is a power which is represented by wealth, Church in social influence, and weapons of war. There is a power which rests only upon elevation of character, upon truthfulness, kindness, self-sacrifice, and this which had once been the best heritage of the Church was now lost. Its spiritual force was low indeed ; it showed little of the character and spirit of Christ ; it was only one among the many sections of society which were scrambling for earthly aggrandizement. The great nobles sought to make themselves great behind their castle walls ; some of the great prelates sought to make themselves great in their palaces, castles, and monasteries. In speaking then of the increased power of the Church we are Decline of not speaking of any increase in spiritual power. Spiritual Men were quite right when they said Christ ower' seemed to sleep, for little trace of Christ-likeness appears in the characters of some of the great prelates of those days. Neither love of God, nor truth of speech, nor pity for men, nor unselfishness of life had place in the lives of a large number of the bishops. St. William of York, one of the few exceptions, was kept out of his see by the 95 96 HENRY II. AND BECKET [1154- intrigues of his brethren, and when, after patient waiting, he was at last admitted to the archbishopric of York, his opportunities of doing good were but few, for he held it only a month. But the bulk of the bishops could hardly be called Christian men ; their idea of power was not force of character, but great possessions, great office, great dignity; and no nation could prosper when the central authority was set at defiance by powerful barons, or a strong and unscrupulous band of bishops. There was one man in the kingdom who clearly per ceived this, and who used his power most Becket authoritatively in early days to consolidate and establish the power of the Crown. That man was the clerk who had studied at Bologna — Thomas Becket. Henry, who ascended the throne as Henry II. , was Becket voung> Dut he had already shown manly and strengthens kingly qualities. He was warlike, active, and the Crown. shrewd. He had strengthened his position by his marriage with Eleanor of Aquitaine. He set himself to pacify the country, and when he entered upon this difficult task, Thomas Becket was, by the advice of Arch bishop Theobald, appointed Chancellor. He was, says Bishop Stubbs, " Chancellor, lawyer, judge, financier, captain, and Secretary of State." With the aid of so able an adviser the young King was able to effect many reforms. The marauding barons were kept in check — their strongholds were in some cases razed to the ground, evil-doers were punished, and the coinage, which had been debased, was improved. In a word, a state of law began to succeed a state of disorder. In all these improvements Becket showed himself in favour of strengthening, as was necessary if order was to prevail, the central or kingly power. He had not hesitated to apply this principle in matters touching the Church. He agreed that the clergy should be liable for scutage, or shield-money, i.e. money EFFIGY OF KING HENRY II. From his tomb at Fontevrault in Touraine. To face p. ii7o] BECKET PRIMATE 97 paid in lieu of military service ; he supported the King against at least one bishop. The clergy looked upon him as a King's man. The King believed him to be com pletely attached to his interests, and accordingly, when a vacancy occurred, Thomas Becket was made Archbishop of Canterbury. Then came the change. Becket was no longer the servant of the State ; he was Primate of the Church. He had all along, though the King did not realise His change it, wielded a power which made him inde- of Policy, pendent of the king. Change of office, more- "6l" over, often means change of view. It is to Becket's credit that he foresaw this, and honestly warned the King that it would be so. He realised that the world would not look the same from the throne of Canterbury as it did from the Chancellor's office. It is very true that to a man of large and comprehensive views this would not have been the case. Had Becket been possessed of the enlarged mind which could give to every object its proper proportion, and see that the good of the whole would be best served by a nice adjustment of claims ; had he even realised that all institutions, whether Church or State, onlytuTfil their encrin promoting the good of the people, he might have seen that any conflict of interest and authority must be disastrous to the nation; but he took a narrow and pedantic view of duty. He accepted the false idea that the strength of the State meant injury to the Church, and as he owed his first duty to the Church, of which he was Primate, he was bold to resist the power of the King. Men of this stamp make excellent officials under the guidance of others, but when in power they never fail to produce confusion in the State. They take a litigious view of all questions ; they see some infraction of rights or of dignity in every improvement; they have no genius for the reconciliation of agencies engaged in H 98 HENRY II. AND BECKET [ii54-_ the work of a common good. To them fidelity means insistence on the last ounce of right and the last scruple" of ceremonial respect. They consider the machinery wholly apart from its end. Thus it happened that Becket, on accepting the primacy, separated the interests of the Church from those of the nation and the King. He re garded himself as the champion of the Church's interests rather than as her guide in duty, and her example in all noble and national service. Becket was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury in June, 1 162; no fewer than thirteen bishops assisted at the consecration. The new Archbishop soon Becket . throws over showed his determination not to be considered the King, (-ne King's man. He returned to the King the seals of office which he had held as Chancellor, because he " could not serve two masters." This action much vexed the King; matters were not mended by Becket going to attend a council which the Pope had summoned at Tours, and at which the same unyielding temper prevailed which had characterised other ecclesiastical assemblies. The authority of the secular power was denounced. After this experience Becket did not return to England in a pliant mood. There was plenty of inflammable material to be found. There was a quarrel about taxation, but the chief occasion for dispute arose out of the especial grievances the Courts.OU °^ t'ie °lergy- The secular courts had no power over them, no matter how grievous had been their crimes. They claimed to be tried in their own courts. The result was that men guilty of hideous crimes often escaped. The guilty layman suffered; but guilty clergymen seemed to have impunity to do . as they pleased. Many sought to bring these offending clergy within the power of the law, and there was a possible and easy solution. Let the Church courts de- n7o] CONSTITUTIONS OF CLARENDON 99 grade the offending clergyman from his office. Being so degraded he could no longer claim exemption from the secular courts, for he would stand on the same level as a layman. So far both sides agreed, but the contention of the King's party was that a man so degraded should be punishable for his offence by the secular courts. On the ecclesiastical side it was argued by some that the man's degradation from office was his punishment, and that having been so punished he ought not to be punished a second time. To this it was replied that degradation from clerical office was no adequate punishment for crimes like murder, arson, etc. The matter might have been settled at this point, but another question arose. The King desired that some of his officers should be present at the degradation. The bishops were ready to agree to this, but Becket declared that such a thing would be an invasion of the liberties of the Church. His attitude influenced the bishops, and a bitter quarrel ensued. Nothing was settled ; but time seemed to improve matters, for Becket discovered that the Pope thought he had gone too far. The result was that a council met at Clarendon, near Salisbury, Where certain constitutions, known as the Constitutions of Clarendon, were drawn up. constitutions These Constitutions, reduced to sixteen in of Clarendon, number, were said by the king to represent " 4' the ancient and recognised customs of the kings of England, which might be taken to govern the matters in dispute. From one of them it was clear that an offending clergyman was amenable both to the secular and to the ecclesiastical court, and that the king's officers had right of access to the Church court " to see in what way the matter shall there be handled." The tenor of the Constitutions recognised the authority of the Church, but only as an authority to be exercised ioo HENRY II. AND BECKET [1,54- subject to that of the King. Becket refused to accept the Constitutions; on this occasion the bishops were on his side. The barons sided with the King. There Becket. 7 was great excitement — armed men appeared ; swords were brandished wildly and threaten ingly. Entreaties were addressed to Becket. He vacil lated — perhaps we ought to say he prevaricated. He expressed his readiness to accept the Constitutions bond, fide, but when asked to sign them he refused. He would never seal or confirm those laws, but notwith standing his brave words he accepted a manuscript of the Constitutions. He was in a position of difficulty; probably he was genuinely perplexed. He felt that the hour when he must decide finally had come ; he would fain have postponed it ; he hesitated, wishing to pro- hesitates, crastinate. His hesitation was fatal; it gave him over to self-reprovals for having yielded, and to the accusation of having prevaricated. He put himself to penance for' his weakness. In his own judg ment he should have yielded nothing. The story which follows is a pitiful one. None of the characters who played a part in the tragedy which ensued came forth with credit. The King, notwithstanding his sagacity, appeared as a man of furious and uncontrolled temper, Becket as an arrogant and vindictive prelate, the Pope as a cautious and wily politician. Petty insults were heaped upon Becket. The bishops fluctuated between weakness and violence. Becket feared for his liberty, even for his life, and escaped to the Continent. Appeals were made on both sides to the Pope. The Pope, vacillates. Alexander III., vacillated, for his position was full of difficulty. The Emperor Frederick was supporting a rival Pope (Calixtus III.), and Alexander feared to do anything which might deprive him of King Henry's support; he had no doubt as to his sympathy. n7o] THE YOUNG KING lot The claims to complete ecclesiastical independence which Becket put forward suited well the ambitions of Rome, but whether the strong and open assertion of them was politic at a time when the support of the King of England was needful to Rome is doubtful. Hence the Pope's hesita tion. He cajoled and flattered both sides. He practically decided nothing. Meanwhile the King made an unfortunate mistake. He had long wished to make sure of his son's succession to the throne; and now in dread of excommuni- cation he caused the young prince Henry to Becket be crowned in Becket's absence, in Becket's apparently reconciled. province of Canterbury, by the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Durham. This was an invasion of the Primate's prerogatives and territory, but there was worse behind. At the coronation the oath to preserve the privileges of the Church was not exacted from the prince. The King felt that he had put himself in the wrong; he probably foresaw political difficulties which such a mistake might occasion. He wished to have Becket back. A meeting was arranged, and an air of cordiality seemed to surround the interview, which took place at Freteval in July, 1170. It was admitted that the coronation was ecclesiastically irregular, and that Becket had a right to punish the prelates who had set his position at defiance. On December ist of the same year Becket set foot in England after an absence of several years. During his exile he had pored over books of law, and had Becket again fretted his soul with bitterness and sharpened >n England, his wit like a litigious attorney. He steeped his mind in the specious refinements of canons and the misleading pages of the false decretals. He put away the counsel of John of Salisbury, who wisely warned him against such studies, and counselled him to make his 102 HENRY II. AND BECKET [1154- exile profitable by the devotional study of the Bible. The result might have been foreseen. He neglected the studies which might have armed him with the invincible spiritual weapons of gentleness, charity, and truth. He came back as one whose appetite for power had been whetted by absence, by long brooding over his wrongs, and by studies which served to exaggerate the idea of his authority and rights. His first blow on reaching England was aimed at the bishops. For this step he had armed himself tiven^ssdlC" witn the authority of the Pope. It was known that he would bring papal letters into England, and a plot was laid to seize, them ; but Becket took the precaution of smuggling these letters into the country before his own arrival. Thus when he reached home he was able to launch the Pope's excommunications against his foes. He was so enraged that, while preaching at Canterbury Cathedral on Christmas Day, he desecrated both the place and the season by furious curses against his enemies, unrestrained by the words of his text, which was, "Peace on earth, good will towards men." The King was at Bayeux. Reports of Becket's violent doings reached him. The excommunicated bishops ap- Murderof pealed to him. When he had agreed that the Becket, bishops who had taken part in the coronation should be punished he never dreamed of excommunication. Uneasy and angry, the King gave utterance to the famous wild wish, " Will no one rid me of this pestilent priest ? " Moved by the King's words, without any very clear intention in their minds, four knights set off for Canterbury. They reached it on December 28th. The next day they had a stormy inter view with Becket. They spoke threatening words. They demanded that he should absolve the bishops. He was ready to do this conditionally'; more he could not do. He would yield nothing to violence. Becket, whatever i i?o] MURDER OF BECKET 163 else he was, was no coward. They left him in anger. At their next interview they would be armed. Sounds ominous and threatening were heard at the barred gates. Becket remained in his house, but soon there was no safety in the palace. In the great house of God, close at hand, he would be secure. His servants urged him to take refuge there. No hand of violence would be raised against him within the sacred walls. As if to add emphasis to the servants' urgency the cathedral bell began to ring, summoning the people to evening prayer. Becket, who had hesitated about taking refuge in the church, now felt called to go there. Attended, perhaps assisted, by his servants he reached the cathedral. The monks were terrified, well knowing that armed foes were near. They wished to shut the cloister doors, but Becket nobly said that the doors of God's house must be open to all. The silence of fear was soon broken by shouts, " Where is the traitor?" "Where is the Archbishop?" "Behold me," said Becket, "no traitor, but a priest of God." A scene of confusion and violence ensued. The knights probably never anticipated killing the Archbishop, they rather wished to arrest him as a traitor. But Becket's haughty and courageous temper impelled him to resist violence with violence ; he struck down De Tracy, he used foul language to Fitz Urse. The blood of the opponents was up, and Fitz Urse now drew his sword. Grim, a faithful servant, eager to shelter Becket, received the blow, which almost severed his arm. When Becket saw that swords were drawn he gave up his resistance, and commending his soul to God he fell beneath the rain of blows dead upon the cathedral pavement. It was December 29th, 1170, according to our reckoning. It is one of the laws of history that deeds of violence hinder the cause which they are meant to help. They that take the sword perish by it. To men blinded by anger it 104 HENRY II. AND BECKET [1154-70 might seem well to remove an imperious man like Becket, but it was forgotten that the power of a man Crimes are ° r always dead is often greater than his power when blunders. a\[ye> and that a violent death may mean the canonisation of a man's memory. It has thus often happened in history that men who have wrought no good or great work in their lives have won, through the cruelty of their death, a place among the immortals. The violation of the law of right is always a crime, it is generally a mistake. The mistake was seldom more forcibly illustrated than in the death of Becket. His harshness and arrogance were forgotten ; he was regarded as the martyr of a great cause ; he was canonised in popular esteem. Questions which touched the relation of Church and State fell out of sight. Principles were overwhelmed under the great wave of sentiment which prevailed. The King probably regretted the result of his passionate words : he also realised his blunder. The crime alienated from him the sympathy of the Church, and he needed the support of the Church to curb the power of the barons. He consented to do pen ance ; he submitted to a formal flagellation, blaming himself readily for the passionate words which had been followed by such a tragedy. Moved by the popular feeling, he went sincerely as a penitent pilgrim to the tomb of Becket. The sentiment which was awakened worked in favour of the papal, and against the national interests. The Con stitutions of Clarendon, which embodied principles of social justice suited to national needs, were discredited for the time. The papal authority, which, according to Becket himself, had ceased for ever in England, revived. It was forgotten that the bishops of the National Church had unanimously accepted the Constitutions. The cause of the Church was confused in the people's thoughts with the cause of the Pope. The murder of Becket had obliterated dis tinctions of vital necessity to the nation's welfare. CHAPTER XII. STRUGGLES FOR CONSTITUTIONAL FREEDOM A.D. 1170-1216 You will not be surprised that papal power grew in England. The deed of violence just recorded opened a door for it, which the skill and policy of the court of increase of Rome took care to thrust open more widely, Papal and even to wedge open permanently. From Power- the death of Becket (1 170) till the submission of King John (12 13), a period of a little over forty years, the story is one of growing papal power. I cannot take you through all the details of this story, but it is well to keep in mind the principal causes out of which the papal power grew. It must never be forgotten that the English Church claimed to be national, and was jealous of foreign intervention. We have seen the evidence of this from time to time, and even during the fatal period of which I am now telling you there are tokens that the ancient principles were not wholly forgotten, and the old spirit of freedom was not wholly dead. But the foolish disputes between Church and State ; the selfish and unpatriotic readiness to invite the foreign intervention of men eager to win a victory over their rivals ; and finally, the weakness of an English king, gave Rome her opportunities. The disputes which gave to the papacy the chance of extending its power were dis putes mainly rising out of the jealousy between bishops and monastic institutions. To this was added in England 105 io6 STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM [n7o- the long-standing dispute between Canterbury and York, which was revived during this period. Roger of York claimed the right of having his cross carried before him in the Province of Canterbury. This right had been given him by Pope Alexander. York and * r , ,° -, -, ¦ c Canterbury Now further claims were made, claims of ex- Dispute tended jurisdiction, and even of precedence. When Cardinal Hugh was sent from Rome to settle the dispute an unseemly scene occurred. The Archbishop of Canterbury having taken his seat on the right hand of the papal legate, the Archbishop of York adopted an undignified way of claiming his precedence, and tried to squeeze himself in between the Archbishop of Canterbury and the legate. A scuffle took place. The Archbishop of York was dragged from the seat by the Canterbury bishops, and having been beaten and ill-used he betook himself with his torn clothes to the king and demanded justice. The legate, disgusted, gave up the task of settling the dispute, which was at length referred to the arbitration of the Archbishop of Rouen and the French bishops. Such quarrels meant weakness at home and the opportunity of the foreigner. But there was a more serious dispute, which, as it spread over a wider area, gave more frequent Monasteries, advantages to Rome. This was the question of episcopal control and monastic exemption from it. The policy of Rome was to weaken episcopal control, and so bring it more readily under papal sway. Bishops were not always wise rulers, and as the Church grew in wealth and dignity they lived too often like feudal lords, and treated their dependants and their clergy tyrannically. The monasteries, moreover, wished to be free from episcopal control. They resented the bishops' supervision of their affairs : they wanted no one to pry into their treasures or to check their mode of living, i2i6] BISHOPS AND MONASTERIES 107 which was often luxurious, and sometimes dissolute. Thus two great sections of the Church, the lower clergy and the monks, desired protection or immunity from episcopal control, and so it came to pass that the popes could reckon on allies in any attempt to weaken the bishops' power. It must not be thought that monasteries were by right free from the bishops' authority. On the contrary, the evil began by the adoption of special exemp tions from that control, such as that given by JfhR^eCy the Conqueror to Battle Abbey. When the Cistercian monasteries were founded in England the Pope granted these white monks freedom to manage their affairs, and at any rate a degree of exemption from the bishops' authority. This contributed no little to their popularity. As might be expected, other monasteries sought the same privilege, which was sometimes granted, with the right also of baronial dignity to the abbot. Thus the monasteries tended to become institutions independent of the diocese, owning the authority of the Bishop of Rome, and repudiating that of their own bishop. These institutions, therefore, favoured the development of papal power. It might have been argued that the Bishop of Rome had no right to this power, and this would certainly have been quite true, but an ingenious and un scrupulous monk had prepared weapons for the theVormries. Pope, which for a time at least proved formid able against all opponents. These weapons were the forged decretals* I have already mentioned them (p. 93), but I again call attention to them now, as I want you to under stands how the minds of men were perplexed about ques tions which are very simple in our eyes. The clergy, as I told you, often suffered from the tyranny of the bishops. As long as the bishops could exercise an uncontrolled 108 STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM [1170- authority their clergy were at their mercy. If, therefore, it could be shown that the oppressed and dissatisfied clergy had a right to appeal to the Pope, then the clergy would no longer be wholly at the mercy of the bishop. How could this be proved ? Church history, as shown in the decrees of councils, afforded no ground for any such claim on behalf of the Pope. The Bishop of Rome had indeed always enjoyed a dignified prestige, derived from the importance of the city which had once been the metropolis of the world ; but pre-eminence or supremacy had never been accorded to him. Bishops stood on an equality as regards office ; a certain controlling power was given to the archbishops or metropolitans, and of these there were many ; and intrusion into the affairs of any province by the metropolitan of another province was strenuously resisted. There was no precedent or decree which could justify the claims of the Bishop of Rome to interfere outside his own province or jurisdiction. But if evidence does not exist where it is thought it ought to exist, then it may be invented. The now celebrated Dreyfus case is an illustration in point. Evidence which was deemed necessary was deliberately forged. The writer of the Isidorian decretals did the same thing in his day. He desired to re-establish the claims of the Pope to exercise wide authority, and he proceeded to forge the evidence. If evidence to establish the supreme power of the Pope was not to be found in existing chronicles or letters, he forthwith inserted it. Such were the famous decretals which for centuries kept man in bondage. The study of these perverted the mind of Becket; the dread of them paralysed the growing spirit of liberty ; the belief in them so worked upon the minds of men that nations and churches surrendered their independence. For cen turies they were looked upon as genuine; for years, after they were doubted and discredited, they were hotly de- BATTLE ABBEY. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 108. 1216] CANTERBURY QUARREL 109 fended in Rome ; and though in the present day they are abandoned as spurious by all competent scholars, they are sometimes surreptitiously introduced in controversies by unscrupulous or ignorant men. It can hardly be wondered at that in an age when scholarship was confined to the very few, when intelligent criticism was almost unknown, when superstitious notions of ecclesiastical power widely prevailed, documents like the forged decretals should appeal powerfully to the imagination and the fears of men. The Church, it was believed, could send men hereafter to hell, for the Pope held the keys of the other world. It was natural, therefore, that a hideous dread of the Pope's power took possession of men's souls, for kings and princes were but men, and dreaded eternal damnation. With such a weapon, used as it was with far-seeing adroitness and unscrupulous audacity, we can hardly be surprised that the churches and kingdoms fell under the power of the Pope. Moreover, as we have seen, there were some whose temporal interests favoured papal claims. All who desired to escape from the righteous or unrighteous rule of the bishops played into the hands of the Pope. We must bear all this in mind as we listen to the curious story of the great quarrel of the Canterbury The canter- monks, which ended in an enormous access of bury Quarrel, power to Rome. The first scene in this curious "'*' drama dates from the election of a successor to Thomas Becket. The Archbishop was also Abbot of Christ Church, Canterbury. Odo, prior or second in command of that abbey, claimed that he and his monks had the right to elect the new Archbishop, under the plea that they had the right to elect their own abbot. This was a far-reaching claim. It set aside the rights of the King and of the bishops. The king showed a weak and yielding spirit. A compromise between the bishops and monks was proposed. no STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM [n7o- The monks should choose two men, of whom the bishops were to select one for the vacant primacy. This was done, the choice falling on one Richard. The young King, as Prince Henry had been called since his coronation, objected, and appealed to Rome. The old King, being at variance with his son, forgot his kingly rights and appealed to Rome to support the election of Richard. Richard, the Archbishop-elect, had to journey to Rome, and after various humiliations was confirmed by the Pope in his election. On the death of Richard the monks of Canter bury again claimed the right to elect the Archbishop. Baldwin The bishops disputed this right and elected Archbishop, Baldwin. The King declared the election void. " 4- -p^g jjjonjjg 0f Canterbury were satisfied, and proceeded to elect Baldwin for themselves. Baldwin died as a crusader in the Holy Land, and nothing very notable occurred under his successor, who died within a few weeks of his appointment. Hubert Walter followed as Archbishop, and found that between the monks of Canterbury and the interference of the Pope his plans were often thwarted. The ference "fa monks, jealous of a church and college which was being built by the Archbishop at Lambeth, succeeded in gaining the support of Innocent III., who was then Pope ; and the Archbishop, though aided by King Richard, had to give way and see his church at Lambeth pulled down. But it was when Hubert Walter died that the strife occurred which gave to the Pope the greatest opportunity of further interference. All through Archbishop Hubert's days he had made encroachments. Fearing that as long as the Archbishop held a state office he would be too much the King's man, he had declared that it was unfit that he should hold the office of Justiciary, and the Archbishop was obliged to give it up. On the death of Hubert the Canterbury monks determined to 1216] POPE INNOCENT III. in make sure of their claims. Accordingly, without any refer ence to the King or the bishops, they proceeded to elect an Archbishop, Reginald by name. To make sure of support they sent him at once to Rome to secure the Pope's approval. Like most over-eager people, they over-reached themselves. Reginald talked too much about his position, and he was not well received at Rome. The Canterbury monks, feeling that they had made a mistake, threw Reginald over, and, wishing I suppose to be strengthened by royal influence, they asked the King for permission to choose a Primate. King John was then King. He had a friend and trusty adviser, John de Gray by name. The monks, ready to win the King's support, chose the King's friend. Mean while the bishops, feeling that they had been ignored, had sent to Rome to appeal against the choice of P John de Gray. It thus came to pass that in innocent in., this complicated dispute the King, the monks, "9 ' and the bishops had all appealed to Rome. Innocent III. saw his opportunity. He could not allow the right of the bishops in the matter. He declared that both the elections — that of Reginald and that of John de Gray — were void. Having power in his hands, he determined not to let it go, and even tried Arrogance. to extend it. He took an unheard-of step. He ordered a new election, and he dictated to the monks of Canterbury whom they were to elect. This was an unprecedented interference with the rights of the National Church. The weak and foolish disputants who had appealed to him found that the power which they had invoked swallowed up the morsel for which they were contending. The umpire took the prize and gave blanks to the litigants. The dignity of the bishops, the freedom of the monks, and the rights of the Crown were all set aside. The monks were in a dilemma. They had ii2 STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM [1170- first elected Reginald ; they had, with the King's approval, elected John de Gray. They were now bidden by the Pope to elect Stephen Langton, and by this act to stultify themselves, and to insult the prerogatives of the Crown. They timidly remonstrated, but they were over borne and -browbeaten by the Pope, who threatened them with anathema. They gave way — all but one, whose name, Charles de Crantefeld, ought to be remembered. This incident led to the great struggle between King John and the Pope — a struggle in which King John showed the petulance and passion of a weak man, and Innocent III. the persistency and unyielding firmness of a strong one — a struggle of which the end might have been foreseen, where on the one side there was a King without principle, and on the other a Pope without scruple. The action of the Pope in compelling the monks to elect Stephen Langton was arbitrary, and did violence to the constitutional rights of the English King. ™g Interdict' The King could not ignore it. When he heard of it he was enraged, and threatened to stop the supplies of money at Rome. The Pope declared that the consent of the King was not absolutely necessary, and proceeded to consecrate Stephen Langton. This pro voked the King beyond all bounds. He turned his rage on the Canterbury monks, whom he considered responsible for the matter. Armed soldiers drove them out of the monastery — out of the country. As for Stephen Langton, the King swore that he should never set foot in England. Bishops were sent to the King to urge him to yield, and on his refusal the Pope tried to coerce him by laying the kingdom under an interdict. An interdict was, as we have seen, a fierce, unchristian proceeding. No person but one who had entirely lost sight of Christ's teaching and spirit would ever have resorted to such a step. Although the Pope's anathema could not do any- 1216] KING JOHN AND PANDULF 113 one any final harm, for he could neither let men into heaven nor keep them out, yet the people of those dark times believed that he could, and perhaps the Pope may have believed it too. If he did believe such a monstrous thing the interdict was outrageously cruel and outrageously unjust. Why should multitudes be deprived of the means of grace, and have heaven's door shut in their face, because monks and bishops and kings quarrelled with one another? It was all very sad, very savage, very unchristian. And so on Passion Sunday — on the day when Christian people ought to have been thinking of the great principles of love and self-sacrifice which Christ had shown to the world — the interdict was pro claimed. "All divine offices, except baptism and the ministry to the dying, ceased " ; the people for whom Christ died were to be deprived of ordinary spiritual help on their heavenward journey, because priests were self-seeking and ambitious. Naturally the King retaliated. He treated the clergy with contumely and cruelty. The goods of the clergy were seized and held to ransom, the King ° Acts of violence against the clergy were allowed to go unpunished. To John's action the Pope replied by excommunicating the King. Efforts at recon ciliation were attempted. Pandulf came over from the Pope, and had an interview with the King, but John claimed the rights of the sovereigns of England. Pandulf, in reply, said that Henry II. had surrendered those rights. John said, " He could not bind his successors." But, said Pandulf, "you swore to observe the customs of your ancestors." John offered to accept any archbishop ex cept Stephen Langton. Pandulf refused the offer, and threatened the King. " Can you do more harm Mission of than words?" asked the King. "You are ex- Pandulf, communicated," said Pandulf. "What then," "°9' 114 STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM [1170- said the King. " We shall excommunicate those who hold communication with you." "What then," said the King. "We shall absolve your subjects from their allegiance — none of your heirs shall be crowned." The King then reminded Pandulf of the risk he ran for his bold words. Pandulf said he was ready to suffer death for his cause. Pandulf's mission thus failed, and the Pope now proceeded to depose the King. John prepared to resist the Pope ; but he soon saw that he must play a politic game. He had none of the support His abject which respect brings. He had lost Normandy Weakness, partly through sloth; he had alienated the great I2'3' barons by heavy fines, and they were hardly likely to make sacrifices to keep him on the throne. Many of them would prefer to be ruled by Philip II. of France, to whom the Pope threatened to transfer the crown. John realised his difficulties. He must either submit to the barons, or else to the Pope. He made his choice, and surrendered to the foreigner. He gave way — he basely yielded to the threats of papal arrogance ; he handed his crown to the Pope, to receive it back again as the Pope's gift; he declared that he held the crown from the Pope and for the Pope ; he sank so low as to take an oath which declared the Pope to be his lord ; he consented to be led as a penitent into Winchester Cathedral reading the Fifty-first Psalm, and to receive papal absolution. Thus the humilia tion of the crown and realm of England reached its climax at the hand of a king, imperious in his unbridled passions, but mean in his royal instincts. The story is a sad one, but we must not suppose that the free spirit of England entirely disappeared at this time. Hugh of There were not wanting men who still held to Lincoln, the traditional and constitutional liberties of their country. To their credit some of the bishops were ready to stand for the nation's rights against i2i6] HUGH OF LINCOLN 115 the foreigner. It was a bad age. The name of religion was shamed by the mercenary character of the court of Rome, and by the servile character of some of the Christian leaders in England. But even in the darkest days God has His saints, and the name of St. Hugh of Lincoln shines brightly in the surrounding darkness. He was one of those characters in which a redeeming humour mingled with his piety; he was alive in all sides of his nature, devout and clear-headed, strong against evil and pitiful towards the unfortunate. He had a firm and discriminat ing courage. Evil-doing in princes was to him still evil- doing, and he had so acted towards King Richard that the lion-hearted King declared, " If the rest of the bishops were such as he no king or prince would dare to lift up his neck against them." He showed equal courage in proclaiming the rights of the English Church against the encroachments of the Pope. When the Pope ordered the suspension of Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, Hugh of Lincoln said, "I would rather be suspended myself than suspend the Archbishop." Thus in the gloomiest nights God made the stars to shine ; but more, the darkest seasons were followed by the light of day. The very humiliations which the Church and realm of England experienced in the days of John served to open men's eyes. They began to realise that the liberties of Englishmen and the free development of the country were endangered by the interference of the bishops of Rome. Men arose in England who refused to accept the servile actions of a weak king as precedents for English monarchs to follow. There were older and better pre cedents. England was no appanage of Rome ; she had a free, independent national Church, possessed of its own laws, customs, and rights. The men who were to make this clear to the world were shortly to come. CHAPTER XIII. THE NATIONAL REVIVAL A.D. 1216-1272 We have reached the thirteenth century. It is a century marked by the gr.owing spirit of liberty and intelligence. The movement towards a better state of things Century! — towards greater freedom and purer faith- began to show itself. In this century the good cause is attested by Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, as a hundred years later it is sustained by John Wycliffe. It is the century in which better conceptions of art and clearer notes of song began to prevail in Europe. It is the century of Cimabue, Giotto, and Dante. King John died in 1216, three years after he had flung the crown of England in the dust ; but before he died he was destined to make another and a better sur render. In submitting to the Pope he trifled with the liberties of England. In submitting to the barons at Runnymede he preserved them. Thus the King, who had done most to bring the nation into servitude, was compelled to be the instrument of its deliverance. But the King was false and treacherous, and the story of the crowning of English liberties by the Magna Charta is a story which illustrates the falseness of the King and the cruel base ness of the Pope. In truth, neither the King nor the Pope desired the liberty either of the people or of the Church of England ; and the cause of freedom would have been in M6 1216-72] THE CHURCH AND LIBERTY n; yet more grievous peril had not Stephen Langton showed himself a strong, capable, and liberty-loving man. We must remember that though the King had been absolved by the Pope, the kingdom was still under an interdict. John, feeling himself personally freed from the inconvenience of excommunication, T}"L cljurch 'of England cared little for his suffering people, and even protects the plotted vengeance against his subjects. Mean- England* °f while the great barons and leading men of the kingdom were resolved upon freedom, and in Langton they found a powerful ally. He published the charter of Henry I., which proclaimed good laws and just govern ment for all. The barons were delighted, "for those liberties they would contend even to the death." Thus the movement for freedom gained strength, and the great Church of England was leading the way. Archbishop Langton put their demands into writing. An army was raised to support the great cause of liberty — the army of God and of the Holy Church. The clergy were with the barons. They suffered grievously during the quarrel. They had been exposed to the King's resentment, and they had lost considerably ; their houses had been destroyed ; they had suffered from violence and pillage. It was acknowledged that they ought to have some reparation, if not restitution. But the interest of the Pope now lay in the friendship of the King, who had confirmed his resignation of his crown to the Pope, and renewed in solemn form the P and charter of subjection. King John was now a King unite, favourite of the Pope. He had pillaged the I214' clergy, he had seized their rents ; but what of that if he was now a dutiful son and servile instrument of the Pope? Some compensation was given to the bishops, but the rank and file of the clergy who had suffered the most were left without redress. The interdict, after lasting more than six 1 18 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [1216- years, was removed (12 14). It has been said that the "chief gainer by it was the King, whom it was intended to coerce. The chief sufferers were those clergy who were loyal to the Pope, whose interests were betrayed by the legate, desirous in all things to favour the King, who had so humiliated himself to the papal see." The Pope heedlessly forsook the clergy when it suited his policy to favour the King, and supported the King in his tyrannies and treacheries. But the Charta^ais nati°n was true to itself. You all know the story of Runnyrnede and the Great Charter. King John would fain have avoided signing anything which secured the liberties of Englishmen, but the great heart of the people beat true in this matter. Barons and Churchmen forgot all rivalries in the common cause, and Magna Charta was signed on June 15th, 1215. This Charter, declaring the great liberties of the people, affirmed the freedom of the Church of England, " Quod Anglicana ecclesia libera sit, et habeat jura sua integra, et libertates suas illaesas." The King, like the false-hearted creature he was, had no sooner signed the Charter than he sought ways of evading it. The readiest way at hand to suit his purpose was to seek the help of the Pope. He accordingly sought a dispensation from the Pope to break his solemn oath given to his people. Innocent III. The Pope absolved him from his promise. This will connives at give you an idea of the immoral nature of erjury. these dispensations. Dispensations from certain ecclesiastical rules may be harmless, but they are certainly vicious when they confuse the individual conscience. It is a safe principle that in matters of right and wrong no man, by whatever name he is called, can absolve another from the obligation of doing right. But here the highest moral law was set aside, and truthfulness was no longer viewed as a part of the divine law of right; 1272] ARCHBISHOP LANGTON 119 Another law— the law of the court of Rome— could dispense now from the necessity of keeping the Ten Commandments, so low had the ethics of the Christian Church sunk under an administration which had forgotten the duty of the Church in seeking to extend her power. It may be urged that John felt his oath to be an unlawful one, and that therefore the Pope was justified in releasing him, but this attitude of mind betrays a moral confusion equally strange, for it could not be other than right that a king should promise to act justly and maintain the ancient liberties of his people. The Pope did not stop here : he even went to the length of excommunicating the barons who still clung to the freedom which had been guaranteed in the Charter. The King went through the country, attended by ruffians ready to obey his bidding — cruelty and rapine followed his steps. And in the midst of all this the voice of the Pope was heard on the side of the King, proclaiming that those who opposed him were hostile to the cause of Christ. King John had hinted that he might be ready to join the Crusade. This gave the Pope the opportunity of saying that those who resisted the King were worse than the infidel. " Ye are worse than the Saracens, inasmuch as ye try to drive from his kingdom one of whom there was good hope that he would succour the Holy Land." In the midst of this misery and oppression the Arch bishop, Stephen Langton, stood firm, like a rock in time of flood. He refused to be the agent of stephen injustice. He refused to publish the sentence Langton, of excommunication against the barons of Eng- "°7"122 ¦ land. He was threatened. The Pope ordered his suspen sion, but he was unmoved ; a more sacred cause than that of King or Pope was entrusted to his care, and he abode by his trust. Some words of Matthew Paris the chronicler will give you an idea of the horror of this time : " Woe 120 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [I2i6- to thee, John ! last of kings, abomination of the nobles of England. . . . Thou wert free, but thou hast made thyself a vassal of slavery." Then, after speaking of the avarice of the Roman court, he says of the Pope, "Thy doings, and thine excuses for these, are thine accusation before God." These evil times were lightened by the death of the King in the month of October, 1216, which occurred at a Accession of moment when England was in a perilous state. Henry in., His tyrannies and the papal oppressions had caused poverty and confusion. Besides this, the French, who had been invited by the barons to help them against King John, seemed to have a firm grasp upon part of the English soil. The heir to the throne was young, and during his minority the government was in the hands of a council. One thing, however, shows the temper of the people and their rulers. The Great Charter was pro claimed anew in the name of Henry III. Whatever exactions or inconsistencies of action took place, the Charter was to be recognised at least in name. It is better to have ideals than to be without them, even though they are not always remembered. I need not tell you of the great rejoicings and sumptuous feastings which took place when the bones of Thomas Becket were removed to a more magnificent resting-place. These things belong to the trimmings and not to the fabric of history. But more important is it to remember that the French were defeated at Lincoln. This was a great victory, but the churches in that district suffered, for they were robbed without hesitation or pity. Still, on the whole, the advent of the new king opened the way for good. The Archbishop was left free to attempt council of t0 Dririg the distracted Church into order. A Oxford, council for this purpose was held at Oxford in 1222 ; then the duties of the clergy were more carefully defined, and provision made for more 1272] THE COMING OF THE FRIARS 121 reverent worship. Three years later some further regula tions of clerical life were made ; but meanwhile represen tatives of two very remarkable movements appeared in England. New forces had begun to show themselves in the Church. The first of these was the coming of the Friars- The second was the uprising of the new and free spirit of which Grosseteste was the leader. It has been noticed that when once an institution is completely organised it sometimes tends to hinder the very work for which it was called into being. The Corrup. " The idea creates the institution, and the tion of the institution crushes the idea." * Of course this Church' is another way of saying that men in considering the interest of an institution are liable to forget its original purpose. This certainly has often been the case with churches. The period of which we are speaking offers a sad illustration. The Church of Christ existed for the good of mankind, but in these sad days it was sometimes assumed that mankind existed for the Church. If. the Pope had a quarrel with the King, he made the people suffer. If the Pope wished to wage a war — and in those days he waged a bitter war against the Emperor — he threatened and terrified people into giving him money, not to preach the gospel, but to carry on the work of blood. Thus the cry from Rome to all countries was for money. The greed of the Roman court became a proverb in Europe. The spirit of avarice and self-interest pervaded all ranks — the highest ranks being, as a rule, the worst. The simple duty of preaching the gospel and of ministering in a Christ-like fashion to the souls of men was forgotten, and while Europe was nominally Christian, it was suffering from the neglect and selfishness of an unchristian spirit. This state of things was deplored by many, and there * CaiRD, Evolution of Religion, ii. p. 248. i-22 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [I2i6- were men who longed to see the spirit of genuine Christian activity abroad in the world. Two men were raised up The Friars to revlve the spirit of activity and devotion. in England, One, a Spaniard, saw that everywhere preach es an 1214. ers were nee(jed. Another, an Italian, saw that the world needed the spirit of service. These two men, very different in character and talent, went to work, each in his own way. The Spaniard, Dominic by name, founded an order of preachers, afterwards known as Dominicans, sometimes called from the dress, Black Friars. The Italian, Francis by name, founded an order devoted to works of mercy and kindness. These were called after their founder, Franciscans, and also from their dress, Grey Friars, but they called themselves Fratres Minores — the lesser brothers, for St. Francis wished them to think of themselves, like the apostle, as less than the least, and happy only in the service of their fellow- men. Representatives of these two orders came, as I have said, over to England — their names are still com memorated among the familiar places of London. We all know the Blackfriars Station and the Blackfriars Bridge, and some of us remember the quarter near the Strand which bears the name of Grey Friars. The history of these two orders is both brilliant and sad. At their outset they were the creation of men stirred Degeneracy witn the desire to do good, and they worked follows devotedly among the poor and ignorant. Later their quarrels disturbed Christendom. They became wealthy, ambitious, and intolerant, and too often they were instruments for the aggrandizement of Rome. The Pope supported these orders, and made them in dependent of any ecclesiastical control except his own. It was his policy to support any growing power which might seem to check or thwart the freedom of individual bishops or national churches. Thus, though beginning with good 1272] PAPAL EXACTIONS 123 intentions, these friars became powerful in supporting the tyranny of Rome, and hostile to the independence of the English Church. The rise of these orders came at a time when the Pope was eager for all support. He wanted money ; he was not slow in asking for it ; he wrote letters making demands upon the English ; he most unblushingly urged that the Roman court had gained an evil notoriety for its covetousness ; but for this he blamed not the rapacious officials, but the people who kept the Church so poor. When this was read in the English assembly there was a loud burst of laughter. The Pope's demand from the English was that a certain number of English benefices should be given him that he might enjoy their incomes. This was resisted. But now there occurred an event which helped forward the Pope's chances. The independent and intrepid Arch bishop, Stephen Langton, died : again there p , was a struggle about his successor, and in Exactions, this struggle the King and the bishops were lzz8, opposed to the monks of Canterbury. The King bribed the Pope to support his nominee. The bribe offered, was one-tenth of the whole revenue of England, that is, a tax of two shillings in the pound. The barons refused to pay ; they would give no tenths ; they were not vassals of the Church of Rome. The Pope had no claim. But the power against them was great. Henry III. with his foreign proclivities was against them, and the Pope could wield against them the dreaded weapons of anathema and ex communication. Thus the barons were driven to yield, and terrible exactions were made. The money was raised with difficulty, the help of money-lenders was required, and the process of borrowing brought, as it always does, the fatal effects of extravagant interest and deeper impoverish ment. The Pope, not content with this success, pressed his tyranny further, and sent his own nominees into England 124 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [1216- with the command that they were to be provided with bene fices, or with means of support. The people thus oppressed, and finding no help in the King, acted for themselves. Armed men with masked faces began to appear in the country. They opened the closed barns and sold the corn at cheap rates to the poor. They were called " Lewythiel," from the name by which their leader was known, William the Witherer or Scatterer. The real name of this re markable person was Sir Robert de Twenge. When these armed men were challenged they showed letters which purported to be the King's letters patent, so that they were able to carry on their work without much inter ruption. No doubt the sympathy of the people was with them. At length the tyrannies and exactions of the papal see roused up a man of real force and character. Grosseteste, called so from the largeness of his head, was a «3S-"S3S S' man we^ known in Europe for his learning and capacity. In 1235 he was Bishop of Lincoln. He was a favoured person at the Roman court, for he had supported the papal claims in England, and had even acted as Pope's tax-gatherer ; but now matters were too much even for his loyalty. Simony was perpetrated without a blush ; monks plied their money-getting trade everywhere ; charity was dead ; religion trodden under foot. Contemp tible and illiterate persons, armed with Roman bulls, exacted the revenues left by holy Fathers for religious uses. The Pope's demands increased. He now asked for one-fifth of the Church revenues of England to help him in his war with the Emperor. He commanded the English bishops to provide for no fewer than three hundred Romans out of the first benefices which became vacant. The Archbishop, Edmund Rich by name, was ready to resist, but he felt him self powerless, and he went into exile. At length the patience of Grosseteste gave way, and 1272] BISHOP GROSSETESTE 125 when in 1247 the Franciscan monks came over with a licence from the Pope to collect money, Grosseteste refused to aid them. "The exaction was His disgraceful," he said ; and now at length awak- Courage, ened to the evil, Grosseteste showed his ""¦ energy and courage. The Pope was at Lyons. Suddenly Grosseteste arrived there, and before the Pope and his officers he delivered his soul. He told them that the origin of the evils from which the Church was suffering was the court of Rome, that those who name the name of Christ should show the spirit of Christ — that to command anything contrary to the will of Christ is to put oneself against Christ. Grosseteste returned to England, and busied himself in trying to reform his people at home. His protests at Lyons did not produce much effect, for shortly afterwards the Pope sent over his nephew, a foreigner not in orders, a mere lad, with a command that he was to be made a prebend of Lincoln Cathedral. Grosseteste refused. To do such a thing would be sin, detestable and abominable. It was to rob the sheep of their shepherd ; it was to serve men's temporal interests at the expense of the flock of Christ. He denied the right of the Roman see to enforce things which like this belong to the worldly spirit, which are of flesh and blood, and not of the spirit of the kingdom of God. The Pope was furious. It is said, though this is not probable, that he excommunicated Grosseteste; but if this were so it does not seem to have had much effect, and Grosseteste continued his protests. He appealed to all who were in power to maintain the independence of the Church of England. The papal impositions had grown through the patience or the great folly of the English people, but they now united in defending the Church and her freedom. With his latest breath Grosseteste protested, declaring that the action of the Pope was the action of an Antichrist, 126 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [1216- for it imperilled men's souls. " Christ came into the world to win souls ; if then anyone fears not to destroy souls, is he not rightly called Antichrist ? " Thus there was heard in England a voice against papal corruption, which was destined in a few years to be heard yet more loudly and more successfully. Grosseteste died in 1253. Two generations later John Wycliffe was born. The death of Grosseteste was a great loss to England. The Primate — Boniface of Savoy — had no English sym- Boniface pathies, and scarcely any conscience. He was, Archbishop, moreover, a man of violent and overbearing 1243-1272- temper. He took little interest in religious matters, but he showed himself full of indiscreet energy when his own dignity or advantage was at stake. He began a visitation, the main object of which was to estab lish his power. He intruded into the diocese of London, and when the Prior of St. Paul's resisted his intrusion, declaring that he and his monks were quite content with their own bishop, Boniface took to violence. He struck the Prior in the face with his fist, tore the robe from him, and finally flung him to the ground. It was no mere impulse of anger, I fear, which led the Archbishop to act thus. He seems to have meditated violence, for he came to the encounter clad in armour, which he wore under his robes, and attended by armed men. Things fared badly with the Church and State when such a man was Primate — and, indeed, there were sad days in store for the people. I told you how the Pope wanted money to carry on a war against the Emperor ; it was the need of money to carry on another and a most unjust war which led to further trouble. Manfred, whose story touched Dante's heart, was King of Sicily. The Pope was waging war against him ; and as for this purpose he needed help he artfully sought 1272] CHURCH AND NATION ONE 127 to draw the weak King of England into the matter by offering— what he had no real right to offer— the crown of Sicily to Edmund, son of the King of England ; but the Pope did not offer it for nothing— he £„pe°f2the asked one hundred and forty thousand marks for the offer. The King was weak enough to assent, and thus England was drawn into a quarrel in which she had little interest, and was expected to find money to promote the war. Oppressive demands were made and treacherous expedients resorted to. Perhaps the basest of all was the crafty device of the Bishop of Hereford. He persuaded his brother bishops to put their names to some blank papers ; he then went off to Italy and used them as security to money-lenders for money raised on behalf of these papal wars. Thus the credit of the English bishops was without their knowledge pledged to Italian usurers. This was downright fraud. You can understand how transactions like that roused national indignation. The English people were taxed to pay the wars of Churcnand foreign potentates; the English bishops were Nation dishonoured by knavery ; the money alike of mte ' laymen and clergymen was taken without their consent ; the principles of the Great Charter were being violated, and the people were ready to resist taxation which had not received the consent of Parliament. In this struggle the clergy, smarting as they were from injustice, sided with the people. The alliance of the Pope and the King was met by the united opposition of clergy and laity. The struggle soon developed. The Parliament, strong in the presence of the great barons and leading Churchmen, refused to submit to unsanctioned exactions. Popular feeling was aroused. Foreigners were hated, for they were the symbol of the power which was draining England of money. A significant incident soon occurred. The 128 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [1216- Pope sent over a foreigner with letters, demanding that he should be appointed to a vacant prebend at St. Paul's. The English authorities had already appointed their own man, but in fear of the Pope they yielded and installed the Pope's man instead. The new prebendary was met at midday by three armed men and slain. His two companions fled, but they were pursued and killed. All this was done in open day, but no one interfered. The foreigner intruded into English posts by papal power was hateful in English eyes. An incident like this might have warned the King that mischief was afoot. In truth, the spirit of revolt was abroad, and discontent prevailed in all classes. The barons and the citizens had been alienated by perpetual exactions, and now MrTntfort the clergy were united with them. The right leader, too, was at hand, for Earl Simon de Montfort, a man of large and far-seeing mind, great by position and energetic in action, was well fitted to be a popular leader. Though a foreigner by birth, he was by inheritance an English baron; but he was more. He had the instinct to understand the national, feeling, he was the partisan of no class, and became the natural leader of the people. He was welcomed as the leader of the barons, the defender of the Church, and the champion of the people against oppression and wrong. His course was followed with eager eyes. Strange tales of his power and of the protection of heaven over him began to be circulated. He was a man raised up of God to do great things for the land. Then came his victory at Lewes. The people were full of joy. Heaven itself had interposed and given their champion the victory. One arch-enemy had fallen into Lewes,°iz64. Montfort's hands — the treacherous Bishop of Hereford was taken prisoner. This victory fell to one, who according to the view of the chronicler, MISERERES FROM THE STALLS IN RIPON CATHEDRAL, From photographs by Mr. Hammond, Ripon. To face p. 128. 1272] SIMON DE MONTFORT 129 had "justice and the fear of God before his eyes, choosing death rather than falsehood or dishonesty, being directed by the advice of bishops and religious men, a man to whom faith was as a shield, a soldier fighting the battles of the Lord." He assembled a parliament, and sought to establish a more constitutional government; but things were not ripe. The great barons first distrusted and Triumph of then forsook him. The victory of Lewes was Tyranny, followed by the fatal defeat of Evesham. The "6s' popular hero, the defender of English rights against tyranny and foreign exaction, fell on the battlefield, and the liberties of the English were once more at the mercy of the King and his foreign friends. The clergy, having supported Montfort, were exposed to special penalties. The papal legate was at the side of the king, and both King and Pope insisted on cruel and extortionate exactions. The King secured the grant of a tenth for twelve years. It was about this time, when the Church of England was impoverished and exhausted, that another advance in ecclesiastical tyranny was made. The legate, Cardinal Ottobone, held a council, and laid down new rules and Constitutions. Some of these were well meant, being intended to bring about some needed reforms ; but some of these Constitutions were inva sions of the Christian rights of laymen, which bore bitter fruit. To understand what hap- cound" .»iS. pened we must go back some fifty years. At that time the right of the laity to communion had been limited by a law which Innocent III. dictated to the council known as the fourth Lateran council. The law required every adult Christian to confess his sins to his parish priest once a year before Easter. This was a great change, and a violation of Catholic liberty. In former times the public acknowledgment of sins, which was called confession, 130 THE NATIONAL REVIVAL [,216-72 was only requireaof those who had been guilty of some notorious crime : public confession was necessary to regain the right to communion which had been lost. The new law made private confession necessary to retain the com munion which had not been lost. No doubt many sad and troubled souls had often voluntarily opened their grief to their spiritual advisers, but now compulsion was intro duced. This was an act of ecclesiastical tyranny, for by it innocent men were practically treated as though they had been excommunicated. The spirit of tyranny grows fast, and now a further invasion of the rights of the laity was sanctioned when the ancient form of absolution was altered. The ancient and genuine Catholic form had been precatory, that is, in the form of a prayer for the sinner. This, ac cording to Radulfus, was the only lawful form. But at the council held by the papal legate in 1268 this ancient form was changed in a way which favoured clerical pretensions, for the indicative form, " I absolve thee from all thy sins," was then sanctioned ; and further, this was declared, in opposition to true Catholic custom, to be the only form of valid absolution. Thus the clergy began to usurp over the laity powers which none of the Fathers of the early Church had claimed. In England it was a double usurpa tion, for it was introduced by a foreigner, the Italian Cardinal Ottobone. CHAPTER XIV. THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND a.d. 1272-1307 The epoch of Edward I. marks a great advance in English life. With him England, as we know it to-day, springs as it were into being. The earlier history is like the accumula tion of materials — now we begin to see the kind of building for which they have been gathered. Our judicial, legisla tive, and parliamentary systems were now clearly defined. Edward I. may in a sense be called the first constitutional sovereign. The Crown is held no longer by one whose sympathies are divided and whose chief interests are across the Channel. Edward bears an English name and wears an English heart. The sceptre in his hand is not his by right of conquest, or by strong and partisan support, or by mere hereditary claim. It is his both by succession and by the loyal allegiance of the nation's leaders, " by inheritance and the fealty of the magnates." Not till he ascended the throne had any monarch since the days of the Conquest been truly an English king. His foreign possessions were no longer sufficient to distract his main attention from the care and government of England. Normandy was gone, and his energy was set free to strengthen and consolidate affairs at home. What was lost in France was more than com pensated for by what was gained on this side of the water. Wales was conquered ; greater security for order prevailed ; responsibility for maintaining the peace and for providing 131 132 THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND [1272 for defence was distributed ; and, perhaps most important of all, greater numbers of people became interested in the general prosperity of the country as new laws increased the number of those holding land direct from the Crown. Men began to realise more clearly the duty of contributing service or substance for the sake of the commonweal. This development of national life was the result of many causes. The sense of national life was growing stronger all over Europe. Though some still cherished the vision of a great Empire of the West, the drift of events was slowly but surely dissipating their dream. Men's interests were concentrated more and more in their own country. Nations were beginning to realise their own life, and de- velope under the influence of the higher cultivation which knowledge and art brought in their train. All over Europe the influence of the universities was making itself felt. Students crowded to hear the lectures of famous men. It was said that some thousands of students were to be found at Oxford. In the great centres of learning colleges sprang up. Splendid cathedrals arose in which men took a natural and a national pride. Imagination, as it expressed itself in colour, was still childish, but in stone it revealed itself with dignity and beauty. Archi tecture, that mystic embodiment of national and religious feeling, assumed richer and statelier forms. At the same time a slow change of fashion was taking place. Hitherto there had been a strong foreign element in the English Court — now there grew up the patriotic feeling which claimed England for the English. The coherence of national life was complete when the people resisted and re sented the way in which Henry III. favoured the foreigner. "In 1 2 16," writes Professor Gardiner, "it was possible for Englishmen to prefer a French-born Louis as their king to an Angevin John. In 1272 England was indeed divided by class prejudices and conflicting interests, but it was i3o7] NEW CLASS OF PRIMATES 133 nationally one." In this age, therefore, national feeling shows itself strong and self-conscious. It finds its leader and embodiment in the King, who was, as the same writer says, every inch an Englishman. It is in this epoch that we are now to trace the history of the Church. It will be seen that though in an intermittent way Churchmen reflected the growing national and patriotic feeling, they were largely blind to the movements of their time, and their blindness was due to their devotion to what they believed were the interests and rights of .the Church. The papal influence was always exerted to divide and rule. Friction between Church and King was the Pope's oppor tunity. The leaders of the Church did not always see that the true independence of their Church might be jeopardised by the patronising aid of Rome. They failed to perceive the unwisdom of refusing to bear their share of national burdens in an age when all round them their countrymen were awakening to the duty of patriotic service. While, therefore, the nation was alive to its own responsi bility and destiny the Church was content to pursue methods which were unsuited to changed times, and to adhere to theories which hindered her from taking her true place in the moving thought of the world. She was not fortunate in her primates. Early in the reign of Edward I. a man succeeded to the primacy who was, according to Bishop Stubbs, " the first of a series of primates who attempted to impress a new mark on the relations of Church and State in England." This man was Kilwardby. He was followed by Archbishops Peckham and Winchelsey. None of these were able clearly to read the signs of the times. I have told you of the rise of the religious orders. These orders became popular, and they increased in number. Good movements are often followed by bad KiIwardbyi imitations. The religious orders were designed Archbishop, to be agencies for good, but they soon became "7"-"»- 134 THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND [1272 independent and ambitious societies, thwarting the more regular work of the Church, and claiming immunity from lawful control. The popes were disposed to foster the power of the religious orders, as a make-weight against the bishops, and accordingly, when opportunity occurred, they would sometimes appoint an eminent member of one or other of these orders to some vacant bishopric, as in the reign of King John. The constant quarrels about the archbishopric of Canterbury, of which we have heard so much, gave Gregory X. his chance in the reign of Edward I. The primacy was vacant. The monks of Canterbury claimed the right to elect. The bishops refused to consecrate. Once more a foolish appeal was made to the Pope, and he took advantage of the division of opinion and thrust his own nominee — a Dominican — into the vacant primacy. Thus Kilwardby became Arch bishop. He had no love for England, no knowledge of, or sym pathy with, national ideas, and sought to establish new relations between Church and State. His efforts were in the direction of denationalising the Church, and exalting the power of Rome. His influence was increased by the popularity of the religious orders. Thomas Aquinas, the mystic doctor, the greatest ornament of the Dominicans, had by his writings, and perhaps still more by his recent death, added fresh lustre to his order. The impassioned oratory of Bonaventura had increased the fame of the Franciscans. At no period were the religious orders more honoured or more powerful. The new Archbishop thus gained a borrowed glory. His policy was to make the Church quite independent of the State, in other words, to raise it to a position in which it would be only too likely to thwart national development and to endanger Right of national safety. The great difficulty arose on Taxation. tne question of taxation. Before, however, the 1307] STATUTE OF MORTMAIN 135 real conflict commenced, Peckham, an ardent upholder of Church rights, succeeded to the primacy. His aggressive attitude did much to provoke the restrictive legislation which followed. The new anti-English policy of the primates was to claim for the Church the right to repudiate national imposts. You will understand the selfishness of this position when you remember that the Church had accumulated a very vast property. Estates once held by feudal lords had passed into the hands of bishops and monasteries. The old lands when held by barons had been held on the condition of service to the over-lord ; but when the lands passed to the Church the ecclesiastical possessors claimed to hold them free of any such obligation. They were not personally bound to render military service, so their lands should render none. Thus property might be held which contributed nothing to the national expenses. You will not be surprised to hear that the King, Edward I., sought to prevent so much property passing into the hands of Churchmen, arid to make the statute of holders of it take their share in bearing the Mortmain, public burdens. With this view the Statute of "79" Mortmain was passed. This statute made it illegal to appropriate lands or tenements, so that they should fall into the "dead hand" of the Church. Substantially the principle here insisted on was right. Property could not be held without responsibility. But the un-English primates maintained another more dangerous principle, viz. when they declared that no tax could be legally demanded by the King which had not first been sanctioned by the Pope. Had the contention of the Archbishop been that no Englishman — Churchman or layman — ought to be taxed without his own consent, that is, without the vote of lawfully assembled representatives, he would have been affirming a great, just, and national principle; but 136 THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND [,272 his contention was one which made a foreigner the arbiter of the nation's destiny, since on the refusal or sanction of the Pope would depend the King's power to raise the revenue needful for the Government. In the struggle which ensued we can see traces of the undercurrent of good sense, which has fortunately so often helped the English Church and people through helps se difficult times. The Romanising prelates, who held that taxes must be sanctioned by the Pope, were wrong. The King's men who sought to impose taxes on the clergy without their consent were wrong. Midway between these extremes were men who saw the pathway of good sense. They anticipated the principle that taxation without representation was tyranny, and also realised that to make any foreigner the arbiter of national affairs was to court disaster. The influence of these men made itself felt. The clergy, assembled at Northampton in 1283, declared that they would not grant the subsidy demanded by the King as no representatives of the parochial clergy had been summoned to the council. Unfortunately, however, when another assembly was held the spirit of the Roman ising prelates was uppermost. The clergy then declared that they could not grant a subsidy without the consent of the Pope. This attitude provoked the King, and we winchelsey are not surP"sed to nnd that he proceeded to succeeds use force. The position was a dangerous one. Peckham, Archbishop Winchelsey, who had succeeded Peckham, was too subservient to Rome. The Pope, Boniface VIII., was one of the most arrogant and unscrupulous of men. He had succeeded to the papal chair by guile. "He came in like a fox, ruled like a lion, and died like a dog." The great poet Dante has held him up to eternal infamy as " the Prince of the new Pharisees," who made of St. Peter's burial-place " a sewer of blood." Gower called him the "Proude Clerke, 1307] DECLARATION OF LINCOLN 137 Misleader of the Papacie." He knew England, for he had visited it in the train of Cardinal Ottobone, but though he had travelled much, he had learned little. His ambition made him blind. He now dared to put forth claims which earlier popes had never dreamed of. He issued _. „ „ • ~"e Bull, a bull, which claimed the right to interfere "Cierids in the matter of national taxation. The bull, ^os" known as "Clericis Laicos," commanded the clergy not to pay, and princes not to demand, under penalty of excommunication, any contributions. This was a bold and impudent order. It was one thing to show some regard for the Pope's wishes and guidance ; it was another to con cede as a right a demand formulated in this unblushing way. The result was confusion and hesitation. The King, however, acted with harshness. The clergy were afraid alike of Pope and King. But now the good sense of Englishmen came to the rescue. The barons showed that they disapproved of the King's severity, and the King showed a conciliatory spirit at home while maintaining an unswerving courage against the Pope's interference. The Pope, perceiving that he had made a false move and had offended the Kings of France and England, wrote a letter of explanation — the clergy must not pay, but they might give. The King renounced his right of taxing the clergy without their own consent. The clergy felt them selves free, and expressed their readiness to help the King. But the troubles were not over. Edward I. claimed, as you know, the crown of Scotland, which country the Pope had adopted as a fief of the papal see. The Arch- Uacola bishop sided with the Pope. This meant that Declaration, the King must forego his claim at the bidding I301' of the Pope. This led to the famous declaration made in the Parliament of 1301, held at Lincoln : " Our Lord the King shall by no means answer before you (the Pope) as 138 THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND [,272- a judge concerning his temporal rights, nor in any way submit himself to your judgment, or admit question of his rights ; nor shall he send proctors to appear before you, seeing that the concession of the premisses would be the disherison of the Crown of England." Later Edward I. showed a more vacillating spirit. His reign was drawing to a close. He needed money, and wanted the Pope's help against a troublesome Carlisle °i3o7 Primate. He sought papal aid, and the Pope and the King became friends in spoiling the English clergy of their revenues. But the Parliament of England maintained its independent spirit. It passed a statute against papal abuses, the promotion of foreigners, the diversion of Church revenues, and the exactions of the Pope's agents. This statute was known as the Statute of Carlisle, and is reckoned as the first Anti-Roman Act passed by the English Parliament. This is only partially true, for several earlier Acts must be reckoned as anti- Roman, inasmuch as they were designed to protect the liberties of England against the tyrannical claims of Rome. The days of the great King, however, were numbered, and trouble gathered round his closing years. In Scotland Bruce rallied his nation to his side and attacked success fully ths English garrisons. Edward I. felt himself obliged to take the field; he set out for the north, but before he could reach the border death overtook him, and the sceptre of England fell into weaker hands. The reign of Edward II. is a sad page in Church history. The government was weak. The Archbishop, winchelsey, Winchelsey, who had been exiled in the Archbishop, latter years of Edward I.'s reign for conspiring to dethrone the King, returned and pursued a high-handed and unjust policy. With little consideration, and with some cruelty of method, he worked for the i3o7] THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS 139 suppression of the Templars.* There was little pretence of justice in the measures adopted. The King had written in their favour, but he was a feeble prince, and Knights when the papal bulls ordered the arrest of the Templars, Templars the King deserted their cause, and I3"' suffered them to be arrested wholesale. The evidence against them was little sifted ; many were imprisoned, and in 1311 the order was dissolved. With a King thus vacil lating and supine, and with an episcopate deficient in moral strength, the independent spirit of the National Church was impaired. The papal claims increased, and the power or the will to resist was wanting. The leading Churchmen, moreover, were neither strong nor high-minded. Unworthy The bishops were, as has been said, little else character of than "intriguers and schemers." We can the Bishops' hardly wonder at this. From the Pope downwards intrigue had become a recognised weapon. The popes of a pre vious age had been arrogant and ambitious, but they were men of strong character. Those who followed were weaker, and, as is the way of weak men, they resorted to craft. " Deceit," says Professor Goldwin Smith, " is the fist of the weak," and deceit marked papal actions. The popes, moreover, were now exiles from Rome. They were living at "windy, poisonous Avignon" in the south of France, and as exiles they were apter at intrigue. Thus a general demoralisation took place. Everybody had some thing to gain, everybody had something to sell. Unscrupu lous men were ready to accommodate their friends, or to exchange favours with men equally unscrupulous at the expense of religion. The highest places in the Church became matters of bargaining. Bishoprics and abbacies were merely pawns in the great game of intrigue. * Knights Templars, a religious and military order founded early in the twelfth century for the protection of the Holy Sepulchre at Jeru salem and of the pilgrims who visited it. 1 40 THE AWAKENING OF ENGLAND [1272- The archbishopric of Canterbury was given to an unfit man, Reynolds by name, who, being unscrupulous, would, it was thought, be complaisant to the King or subservient to the Pope. The Church sank low in influence and esteem. Some bishops won their sees by mere treachery ; even the Primate trafficked in sacred things. Orlton of Hereford was suspected of having instigated the murder of the King. As a body they were hated. Bishop Staple- ton of Exeter fell at the hands of the London crowd. They were useless and unworthy — the shame, not the glory, of the Church. This was the period when the papal influence was the strongest. The popes reserved to themselves Romanising certain appointments. In this way, besides of the the primacy, the bishoprics of Bath, Carlisle, Durham, Hereford, Lincoln, Norwich, and Winchester were reserved by the Pope, i.e. he treated them as wholly at his own disposal. With patronage largely under the control of the Pope, the clergy became more and more Romanised. The outcome of the miserable system of " provisions " and " reservations," which was introduced by papal influence, was that the sense of the rights, freedom, and duties of a National Church was less and less present to men's minds. Livings were held by men who did not reside in their parishes, and who would have been of little use if they had, for they were foreigners who knew no English. A mercenary spirit prevailed. Benefices were held for gain, and not to do good. A vicious system sometimes provokes its own remedy. It was so in this case. The bishops and abbots began to find that the papal yoke was heavy, and that their rights and freedom were continually interfered with. The steps of the reaction will be seen in the succeeding reign. Mean while Edward II. was losing power and influence. He had no love for public affairs, and he fell under the sway of favourites, and the great barons of England were 1307] MURDER OF EDWARD II. 141 angered. In Scotland Bruce did not pause in his career. Stirling Castle and its English garrison were in danger. Edward IL, in advancing to relieve it, encountered Bruce at Bannockburn, and on that fatal field England's hold on Scotland came to an end. Dissension at home followed. The Queen, Isabella, conspired against the King, who was deposed, and shortly afterwards murdered in Berkeley Castle, 1327. CHAPTER XV. THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE a.d. 1307-1399 The period on which we now enter is one which is alive with interest. Hitherto the forces have only been marshal ling on the battle-ground. Now we are to see the beginning of the fight. Before we go further, however, Aggressions ^et me remmd you of the position of affairs, that we may the more intelligently follow the manoeuvres of the field. You may remember that some of the English kings were really foreigners in their sympathies. They brought over their favourites and gave them high places; they allowed English bishoprics to be filled by strangers to English life and ways ; they tolerated the inter ference of the Pope in matters which were dangerous to civil and religious freedom. In Edward I., however, some thing approaching the true English spirit awoke. He did much to consolidate the national forces ; he extended the influence of England by bringing Wales under his hand ; he gave a parliament to Ireland as well as to England ; he showed a courageous front to the Pope. In England measures of national protection against papal aggression became necessary and popular. Men The began to understand that a foreign potentate National was usurping the powers which belonged to England alone. The great statutes which were passed mark the growing determination of English- 142 1307-99] STATUTE OF PROVISORS 143 men. These were the Statute of Mortmain, passed in the reign of Edward I., and the Statutes of Provisors and Praemunire, passed in the reign of Edward III. Thomas Fuller thus pithily describes the position of the papal power in England: "It went forward until the Statute of Mortmain. It went backward slowly when the Statute of Provisors was made under Edward III. ; swiftly when the Statute of Prsemunire was made; it fell down when the papacy was abolished in the reign of Henry VIII." Thus these great acts of the nation were like the movements of troops, taking up strong positions for the day of battle. And the day of battle had come. The sound of trumpets is heard — the trumpets are the voices of men who rally their brother men for the fray. The strongest of these voices in England are those an(f wyciiffe of Wycliffe and of Chaucer — Wycliffe is the preacher, Chaucer the poet of the forward movement. They call, and men awake and advance to the battle. The conflict which ensues is against papal claims and papal teaching, but we must note the causes which pro voked the battle at this particular time. The revenues of some benefices, as we have seen, went out of the country to foreigners who had been appointed by the Pope. The Pope practised a system of reservations by which he re served to himself the patronage of certain benefices. These were frequently given to foreigners, so that the revenues of such benefices went abroad. This was felt to be an evil, and at length, in 135 r, when Edward III. was on the throne, the first great Statute of Provisors was passed. statnteof This statute was built upon the Statute of Provisors, Carlisle, of which you have heard (see ch. xiv., I3SI- p. 138), and it prohibited reservations which deprived patrons of their rights. It declared that benefices in which the system was connived at should be forfeited to the Crown. 144 THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE [1307- It made the procuring of papal interference a penal offence. Thus one step was taken which vindicated the national character of the Church. This was followed by another Statute of rnore important step. The statute, called the Pramunire, Statute of Praemunire, was passed, which made I3S3' it criminal to appeal to any court outside the realm. Thus the independence of the English courts was protected. In these steps we see the reviving spirit of the nation : it is slowly awakening, and it repudiates foreign interference. As it awakens it will begin to see other evils ; it will recognise the distortion of truth as well as the per version of justice. It will strive to return to primitive purity of doctrine as well as the maintenance of national independence. The pressure of other troubles, besides Church diffi culties, weighed upon the country. The latter half of the fourteenth century was a time of great social and political misery. The Battle of Crecy, fought in 1346, and Poitiers in 1356, had shown, not only the valour of English arms, but the power of a united people, for yeo men archers of England had fought by the side of baron and knight. But splendid victories are sometimes shadowy glories. England reaped fame, but not solid gain from Miserable ^er triumphs in France. Luxury came home, Condition of and poverty at the gate was forgotten. There e oun rT- were Sp0iis in many houses, but the prolonged French war had drained the country of money. The Black Death, which had swept away one-third of the population in 1348, reappeared again in 1361. The country was left naked of men and destitute of wealth. At such a time demands for money are little likely to be listened to with patience, and yet this was the time when the Pope claimed arrears of tribute. He spoke, more over, from Avignon, not from Rome. At Rome he might have seemed independent, at Avignon he appeared to 1399] THE GOOD PARLIAMENT 145 Englishmen the tool of France. The policy of Avignon was certain to be anti-English. Papal demands so ad vanced only' rousecr resistance. He claimed under a concession from King John. Parliament promptly re jected the claim; Wycliffe began to speak. He was a Churchman, but when the Church was thus preying upon the nation which she was bound to serve, he stood against the Church, and on the side of the poverty- stricken people of England. The country was poor. The chief offices of state were filled by ecclesiastics, but under their administration no relief came to the people. The country was poor, but the Church was rich, and was disposed to claim immunity from taxation. Those who pretended to be the followers of Christ had power, and used it for themselves. They fared sumptuously while the poor needed bread. A disappointed people began to feel that great offices of state should not be held by Churchmen, and that "idle and unworthy clergymen" should not F .. receive tithes. The Church appeared to the against the fancy of the day as an owl, arrayed in feathers church- contributed by all other birds, who, robbed of their feathers, can no longer fly. A hawk appears, and the birds in terror demand their feathers again that they may escape. The owl refuses to restore them, whereupon the birds resort to force and take their own feathers back. The strong feeling in the country was effective. The King dismissed his ecclesiastical state officials, and a tax was imposed upon the clergy. But now Edward III. had suffered reverses, and his mis fortunes threw back the advance of the national party. He needed the help of the Pope, and endea- The Good voured to conciliate him by a policy of sub- Parliament, mission; but he forgot the stout temper of the English people, and in 1376 the Good Parliament 146 THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE re entered a protest against papal exactions. They com plained that the Pope received in taxes five times as much as the King, and that the wealth of the Pope was fourfold that of any prince in Christendom. They prayed that no collector of papal dues should be allowed in England. It must be remembered that not only did the country suffer from these tributes paid to the Pope, but that the land was overrun by mendicant friars, who systematically divided it into dis- Frlars"11 tricts in quest of alms. The friars being exempt from episcopal control, could defy the parish clergy. They came provided with relics and blessed medals, etc., possessed of magic virtue; they preyed upon popular superstition ; they begged malt or rye, a " Goddes halfpeny" or a "masse-peny." Chaucer gives us the picture of the begging friar. This is what he writes in the " Sompnour's Tale " : ' ' In every house he gan to pore and pine, And begged mele and chese or elles corne. His felaw had a staff tippid with home, A pair of tables aile of ivory, A pointell polished full fetously ; And wrote alwey the namis as he stode Of all the folk that yave him any gode, Askauncis, as if he wolde for them pray." He gives us a further picture of the Pardoner who brought in his wallet pardons "from Rome, all hot " : — " And in a glass he had a pigges bones. And with these reliques when that he fand A poor person dwelling upon land, He gat him more money in a day Than that the parson got in months twaie." Wycliffe saw that the whole spirit of the Church was wrong. The law of service, which Christ had declared to 1399] WYCLIFFE'S VIEWS 147 be the law of human life, was lost sight of; the interests of the Church, the rights of the Church, the authority of the Church were matters for which Church men were ready to contend; but the duties ™^fis of the Church were forgotten. The spirit of the world had entered into the Church. Ecclesiastics were "so choked with tallow of worldly goods, and occupa tion about them, that they may not preach the gospel and warn the people of the devil's deceits." In his zeal against the worldliness of the opulent clergy Wycliffe advocated principles which went near to communism. The well-to-do-people took alarm. Wat Tvler's ,, „ i , Suffers rebellion added to their fear. In the earlier from his stages of the controversy " Old John of Gaunt, followers- time-honoured Lancaster," supported Wycliffe, chiefly, however, from political motives. Wycliffe suffered, as most leaders have suffered, from the indiscretions and extravagances of his allies, and of those who followed, or pretended to follow, his teaching. Led away by his enthusiasm, he believed too implicitly in the sincerity of others, and found himself compromised by their conduct ; but of his own single-mindedness and courage there could never be any doubt. He was hated by the clergy, whose wealth and indolence he assailed ; he was hated by the Churchmen of authority because he affirmed so vehe mently the moral obligations which are inseparable from authority. He pitched his ideals too high, and he suffered the fate of idealists. Yet how clear is his moral insight ! " It is not possible for a man to be excommunicated by the Pope unless he were first and principally excommunicated by himself." " It is not possible, even for the absolute power of God to cause that if the Pope or any other pretends that he binds or looses at any rate, that he does therefore actually bind or loose. We ought tb believe that then only does the Pope bind and loose when he 148 THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE [1307- conforms himself to the law of Christ." How clear is his vision of principles ! " All mankind that have been since Christ, have not power to ordain that Peter and all his family should have political dominion over the world." In his view Christ, and not the Pope, is the head of the Church. The Pope might lay the kingdom under an interdict, but God takes no account of such censures. The endowments of our forefathers, he declared, were not for the Church in general, but for the Church of England. Wycliffe was accused of heresy, and was summoned to appear before the bishops. In the April of 1378 he Accused of appeared. The citizens of London gathered Heresy, round him ; they forced their way into 13?8' Lambeth Chapel, and the trial was abandoned. Then came the imposition of the poll tax, the rebellion of Wat Tyler, and the murder of Archbishop Sudbury, who had been, it is thought, a sympathiser with Wycliffe's teaching. Wycliffe in these troubles experienced one of the trials which flank the pathway of far-seeing men. He saw the evils of his day; he laid down noble but ideal principles ; he had no sympathy with a weak and tyrannical government ; he recoiled from the violence which marked the action of those who called themselves by his name ; he withdrew more and more from public participation in the questions of the day ; he devoted his time to theology. The doctrine of transubstantiation was the chief object of his attention. This doctrine was of comparatively recent origin : it had no place in early Christian ideas, stan'tiation. and was undreamed of by the great Catholic Fathers of the Church. It grew partly out of scholastic ideas, and partly out of the vulgar but mistaken notion that it is a sign of higher devoutness to believe in a material rather than in a spiritual truth. Thus it came about that the presence of Christ in the Holy 1399] TRANSUBSTANTIATION 149 Sacrament was thought to be in some sort a material presence ; buy as it was patent to everybody that at the words of consecration no visible, tangible, or provable change took place in the bread and wine, it was stoutly declared that though the accidents (i.e., the sensible qualities) remained, the substance, the invisible natural groundwork, of the bread and wine was changed (transubstantiated) into the substance of the flesh and blood of the Saviour of the world. It was a mere speculative hypothesis, incapable of proof or disproof, since no one really knew what was meant by substance ; but in an evil day it was Not held accepted by the Church of Rome as a truth, by church and a truth which must be believed on peril ° ngan • of salvation. This theory gave rise to a controversy which exists to-day, but it was an error from which the Church of England in her earlier days was free, and which in her later days she has repudiated. vElfric, a learned man in his day, whose writings received the approval of the Archbishop of Canterbury, says in his homily ' " ' for Easter, " Great is the difference between the body in which Christ suffered to that which is hallowed for housel " (in the Lord's Supper). ..." His ghostly body, which we call housel, is gathered of many corns without blood and bone, limbless and soulless, and there is therein nothing to be understood bodily, but all is to be under stood spiritually." Similarly in the exhortation which followed the body of so-called canons drawn up by ^Elfric it is stated that " Housel is Christ's body, not corporally, but spiritually." This, we might have thought, would have been enough for any Christian persons to believe. Religion deals with spiritual matters, and if we are nourished in our spirits by the spiritual Christ, we are made strong against spiritual foes. But the Church of Rome would have it otherwise, and belief ISO THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE [I3o7 in this metaphysical tenet was made a matter of indis pensable faith. This was the doctrine which Wycliffe assailed. It has been said by some that Wycliffe's own views were hardly more intelligible than the doctrine he assailed. Wycliffe * ^is is certainly true of the scholastic argu ments by which Wycliffe maintained his thesis. It is also true that Wycliffe's, like every other attempt to define a real presence other than a spiritual presence, is more or less confusing ; but his purpose is clear enough. His chief aim was to recall the Church from idolatry, inasmuch as the Church had for many years gone wrong on this question. The bread and wine remain in their own nature after consecration as before. They are changed (to use AVycliffe's own illustration) as wood may be con verted into an image and yet remain wood, as water into ice. He sustained his argument by appeal to Ignatius, Cyprian, Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome. Wycliffe was supported at Oxford by many men of learning ; he also had a large body of supporters, many of whom he organised into a band of "poor His Death, priests," who went through the country preach ing. Councils were held by his opponents. Their wrath fell upon Wycliffe's supporters ; for Wycliffe, beloved and popular as he was, was too strong to be attacked. He was now Rector of Lutterworth, and there he not only poured forth controversial tracts written in nervous and noble English, but continued his translation of the Bible. A stroke of paralysis fell upon him, but though partially disabled he persevered in his work, using the pen and hand of another, till another stroke of paralysis smote him down on Innocents' Day, December 28th, 1384. He died on the last day of the year, having in his short life of sixty years achieved a work which has left an undying influence on English thought. 1399] WYCLIFFE'S INFLUENCE 151 It has been said that Wycliffe accomplished little. It is certainly true that one great part of his work was to awaken others, and to rouse them to think; but this in itself is a good and much-needed work. Customs and opinions are often accepted without thought. They are acquieseed in from pure indolence. They become stale and the virtue forsakes them, while the earthly forms remain. It is no small gain then when a prophet arises and compels men to think. Wycliffe made men think. Errors had grown up; usurpations had been permitted; the Bible — the source and fountain of Christian teaching — was little read and little known. Wycliffe gave it into the hands of his countrymen ; he enabled them to test the conventional teaching of the day by the original teaching of Christ and His apostles. He placed before the Church a nobler ideal of the life of ministry. He moved the heart of England, and England did not forget. When once the eyes of men are opened to see that they have been in the dark they begin to look about them. It was impossible for such to walk back into darkness. Wycliffe's foes hoped that with his death they had done with him. The Bishop of Lincoln carried out the decree of the Council of Constance, and exhumed DeSecration Wycliffe's body, burned his bones, and cast of his Grave, his ashes into a brook named Swift. But it is H* ' easier to destroy a man's body than to dissipate his influence. In the words of Fuller — "Thus this brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon, Avon into Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over." Wycliffe had called to the slumbering spirit of Englishmen; the spirit awoke at his call ; it was the spirit which loved freedom, and was resolute for truth : it was the spirit which set aside the accumulation of ignorant authorities, and asked guidance of the Scripture 152 THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE [.307- and of primitive antiquity ; it sought for the religion of Christ, and it did not seek in vain. Till the time of Wycliffe few persons had, so far as we can gather, suffered death for their religious opinions. The spread of Wycliffe's views and the rise Lollards °^ Lollardry roused the spirit of persecution. The Church had so long regarded its own worldly interests as of prime importance that when the tide of Lollardry began to flow the minds of rulers turned naturally to force. The weapons of Christ's ap pointment had so long been disused that nobody seems to have thought that "pureness, knowledge, and love unfeigned" were mightier weapons than men could forge. Archbishop Courtenay persuaded the Lords in the Parlia ment of 1382 to give coercive powers against heretics. The power thus gained lacked constitutional authority, for the House of Commons had not been consulted. Lollardry, moreover, found some sturdy defenders among influential men, and so the Lollard preachers were protected. They were a simple and devout- Their ¦ j j , • ¦ Teaching. minded people, serious in manner and conduct, who took the Bible as the guide of their life. Doubtless they made mistakes, and often misinterpreted the Bible, but they were striving to make religion real. They protested against image worship, as the primitive catholic Church had ever done ; they declared that private confession to a priest was non-essential, in which declara tion they were only reverting to primitive and catholic principles. They held extreme or ideal views respecting the clerical office; they taught that a man's bad conduct forfeited his claim to his official title. They were proceeded against, and in some cases compelled to undergo painful and humiliating penance. But circumstances created for them an unexpected protection. There were at this time two rival Popes, and 1399] THE LOLLARDS 153 Europe was divided respecting their claims. Parties were formed. Intrigues were rife, and at length discord de veloped into open war. A crusade was preached Reaction in in England by a hot-headed prelate, Spencer, their favour. Bishop of Norwich, whose object was to gather I383' an army which could support the pretensions of one Pope against the other. As one Pope had the support of France, the other Pope was eager for the support of England. He promised, therefore, absolution and eternal salvation to those people who would go and fight against his rival. Bishop Spencer worked hard in the cause, and having gathered a shabby and ill-equipped army of deluded de votees, he proceeded to Calais, captured Gravelines by treachery, and massacred the whole population; but at length met with a check, and was compelled to surrender. People saw the men who called themselves the followers of Christ taking up arms to maintain the worldly interests of two rival claimants for the papal throne ; they saw treachery and bloodshed following these ecclesiastical disputes. We can hardly wonder that they turned to the teaching of the simpler, pious men who sought, however ignorantly yet sincerely, to live a Christ-like and unselfish life. Men, too, found that the Pope was still eager to exercise over-much authority. The Statutes of Provisors (1390) and of Prae munire were re-enacted (1393)- This last Act of Prsemunire was one of the strongest measures passed church of against Rome, and it is said by Bishop Stubbs England to furnish the clue to the events which connect a 10na ' the Constitutions of Clarendon with the Reformation. It is well to remember statutes such as these, for they con stitute a clear and changeless witness to the claim that the Church of England, however much and often its rights have been infringed, has ever been regarded in the constitution of this country as a National Church. But evil times for the Lollards were at hand. Their 154 THE PERIOD OF STRUGGLE [1307-99 teaching became bolder, and in some directions more extravagant. Some of them disparaged the clerical office. Extravagant Some taught doctrines which touched the Lollard tenure of property. The vigorous opponents Teaching. of Lonar(jry found their opportunity in the political changes which marked this epoch. You have all read the story of Richard II. and of Henry IV. Richard II. possessed ability ; he had King moments of royal strength of will, but he Richard's lacked the stability of character which can Overthrow, discriminate between what is officially right and what is individually pleasant ; he was ruined by his own success ; he was tempted to go beyond his powers ; and he contrived to alienate and combine against himself all classes. He had made peace with France, and the great nobles resented it. The landlords were afraid of the peasants, and proposed measures against them which the King could not sanction. The merchants believed them selves unduly taxed. The Church party desired, statutes which would put down Lollardry. The King's enemies felt that their time had come. Archbishop Arundel, whom the King had banished, joined in the conspiracy of Henry of Bolingbroke. The King found himself deserted, and his dethronement followed. CHAPTER XVI. DARKNESS AND DAWN a.d. 1399-1509 The accession of Henry IV. brought about the persecu tion of the Lollards. The alliance of the Church had been purchased by a promise of severe measures, 1.11-1 a 111 1 -,r- 1 • The Statute and Archbishop Arundel kept the King to his De Heretico word. The statute for the burning of heretics Comburendo, was passed. Search was made for the Lollards. The test question was one concerning the Holy Com munion. Those accused were asked to declare their belief in the dogma of transubstantiation. It was useless for them to profess their belief in a real, spiritual presence of Christ. Nothing short of the acceptance of the idea that the sub stance of the bread and wine became the substance of the flesh and blood of Christ would satisfy the authorities. Men were to accept a crude and modern doctrine of the Eucharist, or else they must die. The proceedings were unwise, unchristian, and uncatholic; unwise, because per secution strengthens opinion ; unchristian, because the weapons of Christ are truth and love ; uncatholic, because the accepted creeds of the undivided Church had made no dogmatic statement on the subject of the Eucharist. But the persecuting spirit was abroad, and many suffered for their refusal to accept what was unscriptural, unreasonable, and unknown tb the early Church. It would take too long tb tell you the tale of those who suffered. The first was iSS 156 DARKNESS AND DAWN [1399- William Sawtrey, Rector of St. Bennet Shere, London. The most conspicuous was Sir John Oldcastle, a man of st. Osith great influence and high position, connected was drawn to the events in France. The unjust war which Henry IV., and after wards Henry V., waged against France was given a fictitious splendour by the dazzling victory at Agincourt (1415), by the capture of Rouen, and the conquest of France. But these glories were short-lived. Within two years of the death of Henry V. it became clear that the English cause Joan of Are, *n France- was l°st- Tne frail hand of a single- .430. hearted God-fearing girl turned back the tide 1509] END OF THE FRENCH WAR 157 of invasion. No nobler character and no sublimer person ality has appeared in European history than Joan of Arc. No soul had a simpler faith, or was more loyal to her convictions, more heroic in acting on them, more self-surrendering in devotion. She was a true daughter of God, as far above the politicians and ecclesiastics of the day as John the Baptist was above the Pharisees and Herodians. She lived near to God, and heard that Voice which always speaks to those who have ears to hear. She was bound to die a martyr, for she had too much of heaven in her for earthly men to understand. Her faith in the real presence of the living God_ brought her into conflict with ecclesiastics who only believeoMn a second hand God. She died by the fire of which she had always had an unspeakable horror ; she died refusing to repudiate the voice of Him who spoke to her. Her death was a crime and a blunder. The English soldier saw this clearly when he murmured, " We are lost ; we have burned a saint." The French war languished, and was continued in an intermittent fashion for twenty years ; but the English slowly yet surely lost ground, and in 1453 the war, which had lasted, off and on, for over a hundred years, ended. The conquests won by Edward III. and Henry V. were lost. The vast territories in France long owned by the English kings had shrunk to the single possession of Calais. War abroad is seldom good for affairs at home. The French wars had so occupied men's thoughts that the social welfare of the people had been over looked. The lords of the manor, instead of „^y at cultivating their own lands, let them out to others. Common lands were enclosed. Employment was lessened. Great nobles and their retainers were able to take their own way, and set at naught law and justice. The power of the Crown was crippled by its poverty, and those 158 DARKNESS AND DAWN [i399- who suffered injustice were unable to obtain redress. It was an ill thing for the country when thus the great lords were lawless and -dissolute. War was too often a mere pretence for plunder, and the desire for personal spoil lost many a in Example battle. The representatives of religion, the of the clergy and the monks, set an evil example to the people. The bishops and the great abbots, although often men of high character, were grievously neg lectful of their duties, and worse, hostile to anyone who endeavoured to improve matters. One bishop made himself Bishop conspicuous by such an effort. This was Bishop Pecock, Pecock of Chichester. He was first disposed to defend the bishops, but as he carried out his work he began to think differently. He saw that the multi tude of rules which the Church had imposed had become snares to the people ; that the Scriptures were a safer guide to truth than the opinions of later ages, and he declared that the Church had no power to make new doctrines. He spoke in vigorous language of the character of the clergy, but he was too bold and too truthful, and he was silenced. His lonely voice had been lifted up in vain. The clergy made religion a mockery in the land. They were hated by the laity ; they were too often men of impurity, and the violaters of home sanctities. Corruption. "The records of the spiritual courts of the Middle Ages," says Bishop Stubbs, " remain in such quantity and such concord of testimony as to leave no doubt of the facts ; among the laity, as well as among the clergy of the towns and clerical centres, there existed an amount of coarse vice which had no secrecy to screen it or prevent it from spreading." The University of Oxford made a formal representation to the King, com plaining of the insolence, worldliness, and dissipation of the clergy. Further, both Universities joined in a remon strance against the ignorance and evil character of those 1509] NEED OF REFORMATION 159 who were ordained. Monasteries were too often places in which vice disgraced the name of piety. The great religious orders, which had sprung into existence to set an example of higher devotion, had fallen in most places into evil ways. The body which owed its origin to St. Francis, and which could boast the names of Roger Bacon, Duns Scotus, and William of Occam, was now brought into contempt by men of idleness, falsehood, and greed. We are less surprised at this state of things when we learn what character the popes of the time bore. Boniface IX. carried on a nefarious traffic in benefices. The Council of Pisa deposed two popes, declaring them to be not only heretics but "perjurers" and "scandalous." John XXIII. was a "pirate, a tyrant, an adulterer." Alexander VI. has left a name which is proverbial of wickedness. Evil conduct is contagious, and examples such as these not only defiled Christendom, but also caused the rank and file of the clergy to sink in moral tone. The moralising power of religion was at the ebb point. The voice of Lollardry had been a witness for better things, but Lollardry had lost its leaders, and still worse had lost in public esteem by its extravagances. Reformation of manners and of doctrine was sorely needed, but the hour had not yet come, for the Wars of the Roses which now took place postponed its advent. The cause of freedom and faith was forgotten in the midst of the wars of York and Lancaster. English life was at its lowest. Its faith was slowly sinking into superstition, and we need hardly wonder that belief in magic and witchcraft was widespread, for the souls of men, deprived of wholesome food, were ready to devour any empty and vacant chaff which was offered to them. The age had lost its voice. Literature, freedom, faith, morals, all had fallen low in England. Wycliffe might seem to have worked in vain, but it was not so; the seed which appeared to die was yielding up its virtue for 160 DARKNESS AND DAWN [1399- after-growths. The blade of another harvest was soon to shoot up above the surface of the soil. While things were thus dark the streaks of dawn were beginning to appear. The new day was coming, the signs of it might be seen in all directions, changes The New imminent. Let us notice a few. We Culture. are standing in the middle of the fifteenth century. It is 1453. The most startling event is the fall of Constantinople ; the Turks have captured the great Fail of Con- metropolis of the Eastern Empire ; the last of stantinopie, the Caesars dies in it ; thousands are massacred I453' and outraged; and in the great Christian church the muezzin is heard — "Great is Allah, and Mahomet is His Prophet." The Turkish power threatens Europe ; but good comes out of evil ; the Greeks, driven out of Constantinople, bring learning and skill into Italy, and there in the free cities the middle classes have risen into power. There is a revival of thought and study. The cultivation of learning is no longer the monopoly of the Church. The Medici family will make themselves and the new learning illustrious. Art will advance Art. . . with rapid strides ; . that of painting in oil, discovered at Ghent by the brothers Van Eyck, will be used with splendid success and poetic power by Perugino and Raffaele. A youth was carving the head of a faun when Lorenzo di Medici passed by. " You must not," he said, "give an old faun such fair teeth." The young man heard, and with a few strokes gave the needed look of age without impairing the vigour of the work. Under his hand sculpture will soon rival that of classic times ; he will carve statues of Moses and David, of Night and Morning, for he is the greatest genius of his time, and a right noble man withal — his name is Michael Angelo. Thus the new culture is awakening. The spirit that will inquire and that can enjoy is going forth among men. 1509] THE NEW LEARNING 161 Meanwhile the ideas of men are enlarged. The narrow boundaries of the world of the Middle Ages give way before the intrepid courage of the navigator. TU A a- J ¦ r- Geography. I he Azores are discovered in 1432; Cape Verde in 1442 ; the coast of Guinea in 1460; the south of Africa in i486; in 1492 Columbus sights the New World of America; four or five years later Vasco da Gama doubles the Cape of Good Hope and reaches Calicut in India, and before the close of the century the Cabots fight their way through sea and ice to the shores of Newfound land. The heavens above men's heads, as well as the earth around them, are about to disclose their wonders, for Copernicus is studying. While thus knowledge on every side is opening its doors to the eager and anxious spirit of men, the means of spreading know ledge easily and rapidly are being prepared. Early in the fifteenth century block-printing was in use in Germany and Holland. In 1445 Coster, in all probability, invented printing with movable types. In 1454 Gutenberg and Schoeffer produced printed books at Mainz. The first printed Bible appeared in 1458. In 1477 Caxton was working a printing press in one of the chapels of Westminster Abbey, and before the century ended Aldus was giving his exquisitely printed editions of the classics to the world. Men began to be able to note time for themselves, for watches were made at Nuremberg; they were able to form some idea of the world in which they lived, for Nuremberg also supplied them with maps. As the fifteenth century draws to its close fuller light falls upon the world. But the purer light will be of little value unless men can be free to enjoy it. The way to freedom is to be made plain, but at first it must be through painful Freedom paths. We have seen how in consequence of as^enas the exciting wars abroad and at home the Learning. 1 62 DARKNESS AND DAWN [i399- power of the people declined. The truth -is that in an age of confusion and strife security was of more im portance than freedom. The labouring classes, who had little or no political power, had shown a disposition to revolt. The Peasants' War, the riots against enclosures, increased tne existence of a large floating population of Power of the labourers, who had lost their anchorage in con- Crown, sequence of the diminution of small holdings, created a sense of insecurity, and the great landlords were willing to let the Crown become strong if thus they could safeguard their interests. The Church did not object to a sovereignty strong enough to put down heresy. Thus everything tended to increase the power of the Crown. Edward IV. (1461-83) was mentally alert, and lost no opportunity of establishing his power. The great lords, who might have withstood him or balanced his power, were re duced in number and importance. After the civil war there were many reasons and pretexts for the confiscation of es tates; one-fifth of the land of the country, it is said, became royal property. The King was not only powerful but wealthy enough to act independently of Parliament. Richard III. (1483-85) sought popularity by some acts of liberality in regard to trade, but Henry VII. continued the plan of strengthening the royal house, and making the monarchy rich. Wealth in others was disallowed ; those who lived splendidly were compelled to give gifts to the exchequer because they could obviously afford them ; those who lived quietly were subjected to extortion on the ground that their evident economy must have made them rich. Thus the English monarchy was growing rich and powerful, and a way was made for the proud, autocratic rule of the Tudors. As far as the development of English life and liberty was concerned, the strength of the English monarchy was helpful i5o9] STRENGTH OF THE MONARCHY 163 in some of the earlier stages of the new movement of reformation. Had the monarch been weak in position he might have sought, as some of his predecessors Heipn]1 had done, the favour of the Pope to strengthen to New his influence against domestic enemies ; but ovemen • he was strong enough to hold his own, and his monarchical instincts, fostered by years of power, would brook no rival. Thus the strengthening of the monarchy prepared the way for the decisive blow which was to set England free, by settling the claims which Rome had persistently and astutely made to interfere in English affairs. The nationality of the English Church was to be made clear for ever by the re pudiation of the supremacy of the Pope. CHAPTER XVII. HENRY VIII. AND THE REFORMATION A.D. 1 509- 1 52 1 No sovereign ever mounted the throne with sunnier prospects than did Henry VIII. He was young, hand some, quick of wit, and possessed of a culti- 1509-1547- " vated mind. He inherited a strong position and vast wealth. The death of his elder brother, Arthur, had opened the way to sovereignty and splendid opportunity. Everywhere avenues of good and useful work opened before him. He might have con solidated English power by a policy of peace ; he might have stimulated English thought and literature by a steady encouragement of the new learning ; he might have ad vanced the cause of reformation by a wise toleration of opinions, and a vigorous insistence on good morals among the clergy. He had intellectual aptitudes which fitted him for this, but he allowed personal interests to narrow his range. He sacrificed peace to personal ambition ; moral Weaknesses r'Snt to personal pleasure; the advance of know ledge and culture to personal vanity ; and the policy from which the nation derived the greatest benefit was dictated rather by arrogance than by any sagacious and elevated principle. England hoped much from him, and suffered much from him. He used her ablest sons, and flung them aside from caprice or self-will. His sensuality 164 KING HENRY VIII. From the picture, probably by Luke Horneboltj in the National Portrait Gallery. To face p. 164. i5o9-2I] CHARACTER OF THE KING 165 se him ; he grew remorseless, and what gratitude he earl ^ P°Werless aSainst the impulse of his egotism. His r y sympathy with the new learning soon disappeared under the influence of less worthy pursuits and ambitions. But however imperfect his character, and however mixed his motives, Englishmen owed to his vigour the repudiation of foreign supremacy. It is sometimes said that what he the change was only from one bondage to achieves for another ; but the Royal Supremacy was at least Eneland- English, and so its assertion was only the affirmation of a principle which was inherent in the constitution of the nation, and consistent with the genius of the people. The declaration of the Royal Supremacy meant that no foreign prince or prelate had, or ought to supremacy. have, any jurisdiction in the realm of England. Doubtless the Tudors had exaggerated notions of the personal authority of the sovereign. To borrow the phrase of a later time, the legal maxim that " the King can do no wrong " was not as yet safeguarded by constitutional defini tion, but in King Henry's day to admit any other than his, the central authority in the country, was to open the door to confusion. The declaration of the Royal Supremacy put the power of the sovereign and of the constitution of the country between Englishmen and any pretended foreign authority. It was a protection against any outside tyranny ; it was an affirmation of the right of Englishmen to be masters in their own Church ; it reaffirmed the nationality of the Church of England. The causes which led to the clearing up of this principle were personal causes. This has been the case in most conflicts where great principles are promoted involved. Personal circumstances often bring Anti-Papal . . , ... , Movement. to light dangers which have hitherto been un observed. Henry VIII. inherited the crown in consequence of his 1 66 HENRY VIII. [1509- brother's death, and he had married his brother's wife, Katherine of Aragon. The alliance was against law, marriage with a deceased brother's wife being a marriage within prohibited degrees. But political considerations prevailed against morals. It was desirable, from a worldly point of view, that the King of England should cement an alliance with the powerful princes of Spain. The Pope was complaisant ; a dispensation was granted, and Henry was married to his brother's widow. If the marriage was wrong no dispensation ought to have been given, but once the marriage had taken place it was only" doing^ another wrong to set it aside. This, however, was what The Divorce was (jone — the story js creditable to no one Question. . who had any share in it. The King, who was of a dissolute nature, had fallen in love with Anne Boleyn. Under the influence of this new passion he began to have conscientious scruples concerning his marriage with his brother's wife. His wishes were the parents of his scruples, which were therefore hardly genuine. An appeal was made for a divorce. The Pope was in a difficulty. To grant a divorce would offend Katherine's nephew, the Emperor Charles V., who was master of Spain ; to refuse it would make an enemy of England. The Pope was influenced by political considerations. Cardinal Wolsey's foreign policy was in favour of friendship with France rather than with Spain ; he saw in the divorce the hope of substituting a French princess for the Queen. He, too, was governed by politics rather than by morals. Thus a question which ought to have been one of simple right or wrong was approached by these powerful person ages with worldly and interested minds. The Queen might well say that she had no "indifferent" counsellors. After some hesitation a commission was issued by the Pope, but it ended by an adjournment. Wolsey, who had entered into a conspiracy to keep the Queen isolated from i52i] WOLSEY'S FALL 167 the counsel of her friends, failed to satisfy the King. The Pope cited the case in Rome. Wolsey, as Cardinal, could not withstand the Pope, and the Pope was afraid of the Emperor. Wolsey was dis- J^*^8 graced ; his craft and his somewhat servile overtures to the King could not save him. His fall was a loss to England. He was a man whose sympathies were with the New Learning and in favour of the reform move ment : he would fain have taught England to stand alone, but his lack of moral steadiness overthrew him, and de prived him of consolation in his fall. The Pope had proved neither a courageous enemy nor an accommodating friend. The King was set upon the divorce, and when once he had made up his mind, was reckless in action. One old man dying at Leicester of a broken heart knew this right well. "He is a prince," said Wolsey, " of a most royal courage : sooner than miss any part of his will he will endanger one-half of his kingdom." The King had resolved, and he would not be thwarted. Wolsey was got rid of. Thomas Cromwell became the adviser of the Crown. Cromwell's early life had given him varied experiences. He had served as a common soldier in Italy, and in the unscrupulous school of Italian intrigue he had Thomas learned lessons which England could not give. Cromwell, He had been by turns commercial agent, 'sso-'s^. merchant, banker, attorney. He had gained wealth. He had on his return to England climbed into influence as the ready agent of Wolsey's will. He was faithful to his master, even in his fall ; and he was able to prove his fidelity by averting some of the penalties which threatened the fallen Cardinal. Cromwell's advice was in harmony with Henry's self-willed character. He counselled the King to rely upon himself and his own supremacy in the matter of the divorce. The King hesitated; perhaps some lingering 1 68 HENRY VIII. [1509- conscientiousness hindered his thus assuming the re sponsibility of overriding his own moral misgivings. King Henry was like Ahab : he wanted the prophets to prophesy according to his wish. His own moral sense, notwithstanding his affected scruples, was in favour of Queen Katherine. He, like all of us whose desire is at war with right, wanted someone to persuade him that right was on the side of desire. Unfortunately there was no very high-minded counsellor at his side. The Pope de layed, because he expected some tangible advantage from the Emperor. At this juncture a Cambridge scholar, Thomas Cranmer by name, came into notice by making a characteristic suggestion that the learning of Christendom should be consulted. An appeal to the Universities of Europe was made, but no disinterested opinion could be elicited where bribes and threats were used on both sides : probably the genuine opinion of the scholarship of Europe was against the King. Thus disappointed he was ready to listen to the counsel of Cromwell. Cromwell was the Bismarck of his time : his idea was to make England great. He counselled, therefore, a strong and inde pendent policy. Disavow the authority of the Pope, assert the kingly supremacy, and let the ecclesiastical courts of England settle the divorce. This appeal to English law would have been harmless if it had been honest. But the idea that the law was above the sovereign, and that the sovereign could only"speafel accord ing to law, was not one which the King or his counsellors entertained. Henry determined to act, and the struggle with the Pope commenced in good earnest. The Pope, beginning to Henry realise that his power was in danger, was eager throws off to claim jurisdiction in the divorce, and threatened the King with excommunication. But it was too late. The policy of royal independence i52.] ACT OF SUPREMACY 169 was now inaugurated. The claims of Rome were re pudiated ; the acts of Wolsey as legate of the Pope were declared to be illegal. The clergy, in fact the whole body who had obeyed the Cardinal's injunctions were declared to have brought themselves under the Statutes of Praemunire. They were pardoned, after having paid a fine, on condition of affirming the supremacy of the Crown. The Act of interference of the Pope in the choice of Supremacy, bishops was brought to an end; the Act of IS34" Supremacy was passed, which declared that the King and his successors "shall be taken, accepted, and reputed the only supreme head in earth of the Church of England." Convocation had declared the King to be, as far as is per mitted by the law of Christ, the supreme head of the Church of England, but the Act of Parliament declared the King's supremacy without the saving words, "as far as is per mitted by the law of Christ." The first-fruits and tithes formerly paid to the Pope were now to be paid to the King. Convocation voted that the King's marriage had been illegal. The King thus won his way, and Cranmer, who had recently been appointed Primate, pronounced the sentence of divorce on May 23, 1533. A week later the King publicly espoused Anne Boleyn. The year following it was declared that the Bishop of Rome had no greater juris diction given him by God in this kingdom than any other bishop : the Pope's name disappeared from all service books. Thus with the opening of the year 1535 the power of the Pope ceased to be recognised in England. The yoke which had burdened the Church and people of England was broken at last. The miserable mixture of weak human passions and interests with a great cause was visible throughout the affair; but an end was put to a tyranny and usurpation which had always been alien to the spirit of the English Church, and to the temper and will of the English people. 170 THE REFORMATION [1509- The supremacy question, to'uching as it did upon practical administration, was of prime importance; but there were other questions which pressed for Reformation. answer- The voice of the Church of Rome had been accepted too often as of final authority, but men now began to ask whether all that they had been taught by such authority was true. The New Learning had shown men where to look for knowledge. The day of authority without evidence was at an end. The translation of the Bible by Wycliffe, soon to be followed by others, was placing a test of Roman teaching in the hands of the people. Men were beginning to look with open eyes upon the teaching and discipline of the Church. The people became less and less a prey to superstition. Satires and lampoons were freely circulated. Popular ballads proclaimed the hollowness of usages and cere monies which once were held in reverence. The value of pilgrimages, the efficacy of relics, the virtue of bleed ing images began to be doubted. The great and simple teaching of Christianity had been overwhelmed and obscured by a mass of pagan and semi-pagan traditions. The removal of the superincumbent mass of scholastic theories and strange superstitions could ©niy- be a matter of time ; but the clear light of truer knowledge, and the yet clearer light of more ethical conceptions, showed men the abuses and impostures which disfigured the official Christianity of the day. The light came from many quarters. The New Learning, the translation of the Bible, the general diffusion of know- The Sources ledge> aH helped. But movements require men, of New as well as material : and men were not wanting. Of these there were two classes^ There were the men of calm judgment, keen intellectual insight, and practical sagacity, who looked beneath the controversies of the age, and who would fain have passed them by as iS2i] TWO SCHOOLS OF REFORMERS 171 of less importance than their contemporaries believed, either because they thought the questions were insignificant or because they believed them to be the creation of scholastic rather than of Christian f*™** thought, or because they feared the danger of Liberal disturbing old opinions. These men formed Sch°o1' the group which we may for distinction call the Liberal or intellectual group. To this group belonged Colet and Erasmus, and, in a less degree, Sir Thomas More. Had the movement of the times been allowed to develop without axe and faggot these men might have been united to the end ; but the fierceness of controversy was like a wedge driven into the group of liberal thinkers. The best men were reluctantly compelled to fall into one or other of the contending camps, and men who were near to one another in largeness of soul and intellectual sympathy were found ranged on hostile sides. But besides the Liberals there were men of versiai strong religious feeling — in whom conviction School of demanded expression and definition, who must find a voice for their soul's deepest belief, and who were ready to go to the stake rather than rend one bough from the tree of truth. Men of this stamp were found amongst the reformers. Martin Luther, Latimer, and Tyndale may be taken as representatives of this group. Besides these there were of course the fast and furious folk on either side, who took up party watchwords without intelligence or spiritual integrity, who from ignorance or interest helped to swell the number or the noisy shoutings on either side. There were the crafty men who crept stealthily under the hedge and joined adroitly in the tumult whenever it was safe or profitable to be seen. There were the timid and gentle natures, like Cranmer, possessed of more intellect than force of will, who were brought to the front by their abilities, but lacked either the roughness or the un- 172 THE REFORMATION [I5o9- scrupulous cunning to be successful politicians, and whose sweetness or weakness was their ruin. Lastly, there were the quiet and devout souls who had learned much from Wycliffe, and yet more from Wycliffe's Bible. These were most of them obscure in station. They did not break away from the Church, but they secretly dissented from much which was taught by Rome. They saw superstition lurking in pilgrimages, the invocation of saints, and the carnal theories of the mass. They believed that they had learned a purer faith, and they encouraged one another in those spiritual truths which had become dear to them. Some of these were accused of heresy and forced into the fame of martyrdom. ' ' They lived unknown Till persecution dragged them into fame And chased them up to heaven." The position of affairs in England was perplexing. The liberal and intellectual group of reformers, such as Erasmus Martin ar>d Colet, trusted to the slow influence of Luther, education ; they had large views, but they had ": vl not that strong missionary spirit which is generally individualistic, and therefore reluctant to adopt the policy of waiting for better days. On the other hand, the people in England who were alive to the more spiritual aspects of reformation were mostly obscure, possessing the influence neither of station nor intellect. In short, there was no one in England fitted to give voice at this time to the spiritual aspirations of the movement. The voice which was needed came from Germany. It is here that we must try to realise the work which Martin Luther accomplished. It has become the fashion in some quarters to decry him, to disparage his work, to doubt his sincerity, and to impugn his character. His real position has been obscured, and his work misunderstood. i52!] PRECURSORS OF REFORMATION 173 To understand him aright we must go back a little and take note of one of the most beautiful features of Church history. At all times people follow the multitude : few think for themselves, fewer still act upon their own con victions. This is true of most studies ; it is true of religion. It is only too true that religion is to many people little more than the decent continuance in certain customs, the attendance more or less regularly preCursors at Church services, and the acquiescence in certain doctrines. But at all times there have been a few who with more earnest and more honest natures have tried to go deeper than this, and to make religion a reality in their souls and lives. Such men have not been content with hearing about Christ or knowing e y° things about Christ; they have sought to know Christ Himself as a real and present life - power. St. Paul was such a one. He knew that Christ had lived and died, but he wanted people to realise that Christ was a living, inward spring of life. He wrote to the Colossians of "Christ who is our life." (Col. iii. 4.) Of his own life he said, " I live ; and yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me." (Gal. ii. 20.) What St. Paul felt so strongly others felt afterwards. They wanted a living Christ in the very heart of their being. These people were called Mystics. Sometimes they talked foolishly, as all people do who forget the proportion of things ; but the best, purest, and truest souls of their day, and of all days, have been found among the Mystics. If you read that wonderful book, De Imitatione Christi, or the works of Fenelon or Madame Guyon, or William Law's books, you will know something of what Mystics taught and thought in the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. There have always been Mystics in the Church of Christ, but in the thirteenth century, when religion had become worldly and mechanical, there began a strong Mystic move- 174 THE REFORMATION [1509- ment in Germany. The centre of the movement was the Oberland, and those who were united in it were called "The dear friends of God in the Oberland." They met, they conversed, they read, they prayed. One named Nicholas of Basle travelled much. Whenever he heard of a preacher who did not devote his sermons to silly fables and half-pagan superstitions he sought him out and made his acquaintance. In this way he met 1200-1361 witn Jonn Tauler, a Dominican of Strasburg. The friendship ripened; but it was not Nicholas who learned from Tauler, it was Tauler who learned from Nicholas. Tauler learned that religion was a matter of heart, and experience. His soul became possessed by the love of Christ ; he yearned to make men realise in ward personal religion. He laboured long and courageously in Strasburg, the most Christ-like man of the district. He loved his people, and would not forsake them. The plague came ; thousands fled ; he remained. When the city was put under an interdict he refused to deprive his flock of spiritual ministrations, and continued his work. Religion was to him no outside thing ; it was an inward reality. Such men have deep, strange, spiritual ex periences. They know much agony of soul, they realise how far they are from likeness to Christ, they long for spiritual life and freedom. Like St. Paul they say, "Who shall deliver us from this body of sin and death ? " Martin Luther was a man of this type. A religion of mere externals did not satisfy his soul. It would take too M .. long to tell you of all his wonderful conflicts. Luther's He believed that he was engaged in a great Spiritual struggle with a real enemy of his soul. He fought, but could find no inward peace. Sin was too much for him : its burden more than he could bear. At last light came. He perceived that if a man is not helped of God he can never be helped at all. He i52i] MARTIN LUTHER 175 perceived that God was the Father of his spirit, and that Christ was his strength, his stay, his Saviour. Despair vanished from his soul when he realised that a Father's love needed no bribe, and that God only askeorthe free surrender of a grateful heart. He began to see what the old creed meant when it taught him to believe in the forgiveness of sins. Like St. Paul he too was able to exclaim, " I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Men of this spiritual stamp do not love controversy or strife about religious matters. They know that the ways of quietness are the ways of spiritual growth. Luther longed for a quiet life. " I would fain ve'rssie°n r°~ have good peaceable days." But it was not to be. The corruptions of the times were great ; the authori ties were supine. The representatives of the Church were going about and teaching men that God could be bribed, that money payments could secure release from purgatorial pains. This was fraud, but it was not only the fraud practised upon ignorance which roused Luther's wrath, he was revolted because God the Father of men was misrepresented to His children. The love of God was a great free love. It had embraced the whole of mankind in Jesus Christ. This was the gospel to preach to men. The more clear this became to Luther the more he was pained to see this great truth which had set him free obscured by crude and childish superstitions. So this man, Martin Luther, " suddenly steps forward," writes Canon Perry, " and dares to tell the Pope in the midst of his power and greatness that he is the upholder of deadly and soul-destroying error — that he is the enslaver of the Church which he holds in "Babylonish captivity" — that the system, propped up by so many Bulls, Extravagants, Decretals, Councils, is false and rotten to the core — a complete obscuration of the Gospel — a mere parody on Christianity." 176 THE REFORMATION [1509-21 Martin Luther's voice gave expression to the religious feeling of thousands in Germany and in England. His influence in England was increased by the fact inEn^nd"" that Henry VIIL> before his StrUgSle with Rome, had thought fit to enter into the lists of controversy with him. Everyone who read the King's book wished to know what Martin Luther had said. This increased by b°°k, An Assertion of the Seven Sacraments the King's against Martin lulher, was published in 1521. At that time, though Lutheran books were pro hibited in England, yet many copies were smuggled into the country concealed in bales of merchandise. In recog nition of the King's services the Pope conferred on him the title of Defender of the Faith — a title which, with a deeper and wider significance, is retained by the sovereigns of England to the present day. CHRIST CHURCH AT THE TIME OF HENRY VIII. From the print by Loggan. To face p. 176. CHAPTER XVIII. THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 1521-1547 Notwithstanding precautions Lutheran views and re formed teachings made their way into England. It was known that AVolsey was favourable to them. His power was sufficient to check some of the measures which were proposed for their suppression. Like the wavelets caused by the falling pebble in a pool of water the circles of reforming influence widened. Thus Wittenberg became the sacred city of the new movement, and Tyndale, a young Oxford student, on making a pilgrim age thither, found that he was not alone, for the fame of Luther's teaching had drawn students from all quarters. Tyndale translated the Gospels and Epistles into English ; tracts written by Luther and those of Wycliffe also were reprinted. A missionary spirit filled the hearts of these men. Cambridge caught the infection of the new teaching. From Cambridge it spread to Oxford. The spirit of the age needed a popular voice, which ,^^^'. was heard when Latimer began to preach like a prophet of olden days. He was the Elias of the new movement; his moral force and courage never halted. He told the populace home truths. He told the bishops that the devil was the most industrious prelate in England. He told the King to be mindful of his soul and of the day when he would have to give an account for his office. N 177 178 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [1521- His ready humour and his mother wit, his obvious interest in current affairs, his quaint and courageous allusions to tricks of trade, and his undoubted earnestness, made him a power among the people. Wolsey himself took alarm. The Protestant teachers were persecuted. Tyndale's New Testament was pro scribed. The fire was kindled. Fryth, a P^s'artd Cambridge man, was thrown into the Tower, and there by treacherous means he was en trapped into putting his thoughts on the Eucharist into writing. He believed that the Fathers never taught any material presence — "they took not the text after the letter, but only spiritually." He had no wish to lay down any doctrine : he pleaded that the question should be treated as an open one, "for all men to judge thereon as God shall open their heart; and no side to condemn the other, but to nourish in all things brotherly love, and to bear others' infirmities." These views were too enlightened for the bishops. Fryth, young, Bry . scholarly, frank-hearted, was burned on July 4th, 1533. It is strange to find that Cranmer had a share in his condemnation, for twenty-three years later Cranmer himself was burned for similar heresy. Meanwhile controversy raged. The questions most dis puted were those of purgatory, transubstantiation, and the significance and authority of the Church. Sir Thomas More entered vigorously into the controversy, standing out as the champion of the prevalent against the reform ing views. In his earlier days he had seen the vision of a realm in which a large-hearted toleration might prevail. But men soon lose their ideals. They find facts too strong and people too obstinate. More was in theory averse from violence, but he had little sympathy with that passionate conviction which is constrained to pursue truth at any price, still less for the spirit which attacked received 1547] PERSECUTIONS 179 beliefs with unmeasured speech. With these his theoreti cal toleration broke down. He attacked with wit and logic, and he aided those who burnt with fire the men whom they could not convince by argument. The divorce question and the revolt against papal supremacy brought a lull in the storm. But as soon as the King had established his supremacy he appeared anxious to vindicate his orthodoxy by his violence against all anti-Roman teaching. Fourteen Anabaptists were condemned to the stake, and in order to impress the country they were burned in different parts of England. The King issued a proclamation affirming the doctrine of transubstantiation, and forbidding anyone to discuss the matter. The supremacy question put a strain upon the consciences of two of the best men of the time. Neither Sir Thomas More nor Bishop Fisher, favourable as they were to the New Learning, could bring them- victims"'8 selves to take the oath of supremacy, which implied a belief in the religious validity of the King's divorce. Thomas Cromwell felt no misgiving ; he indulged in no personal antipathies ; he was determined to carry out the policy of securing the greatness of his King and country, and he felt that the greatness of his policy justified any severity. Those who hesitated to take the oath must be removed. Neither age, nor learning, nor a blameless life could purchase pity. Bishop Fisher was nearly eighty years old, learned, devout, liberal ; but Bishop Fisher perished on the scaffold. He carried the New Testament to the block. He opened it at random, and his eyes rested on the words, "This is Life Eternal to know Thee the only true God." With this music in his soul he died. He was ^0™°™" soon followed by Sir Thomas More, a man of European reputation, and a patron of the New Learning; but he reverenced his conscience as his king. If he 180 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [IS2I- hesitated it was but for a moment. His resolution once taken, he felt at rest. " I thank the Lord that the field is won," he said as he went to face his foes. He would not yield. His doom was certain. The high handed measures of Cromwell achieved that sort of success which follows an unscrupulous policy. He crushed his opponents and he seemed to win, but he pro voked an opposition which made final victory impossible, for he made his enemies a present of the two most powerful allies — the love of freedom and the love of justice. He established the power of the King at the expense of liberty and fair-play. For a time the King was supreme in far more than the constitutional sense. Every where it was affirmed — though not in its legal meaning — that the King could do no wrong. Loyalty to a person is a powerful motive, but it needs to be tempered by a reverence for right if it is not to become a dangerous devotion. Love to reach its noblest height must spring from a righteous source. The old lines need constantly to be remembered — • " I could not love thee, dear, as much Loved I not honour more." They carry the same lesson and warning as Christ's own words, " He that loveth father and mother more than Me is not worthy of Me." You see the danger of forgetting so simple a truth in this part of Henry VIII.'s reign. Henry himself was once alive to it, for he counselled Wolsey to remember God first and the King afterwards. But worldly and personal desires lowered his ideals, and he lived to be served by Cromwell, who, it was said, "loved the King no less than he loved God." Suppression One Sreat change took place in England at of the this time. The monasteries were suppressed. This is a matter which provokes differences of 1547] MONASTERIES SUPPRESSED 181 opinion. Some lament that institutions which were the homes of picturesque piety and studious seclusion were swept away ; others rejoice that places which had become dwellings of luxury, if not haunts of vice, were abolished. The truth lies midway between these two views. Monas teries were not always given over to immorality, nor were they always the peaceful homes of study and piety. Once their doors had been open to the student and the poor alike, who had flocked thither confident of a welcome ; but they had fallen below their purpose. Indolence, pomp, and arrogance had characterised their inmates, who had im posed upon the superstitious fears of people by artifice and trickery, and had absorbed wealth out of all proportion to their use. Take one example. The income at St. Albans, where there were only thirty-seven monks, was ,£20,000 a year. The monasteries enjoyed a revenue four times as large as that of the Crown. The benefits bestowed upon the poor by their means were scanty and doubtful. " Their annals,'1 says a fair-minded writer, " show but little traces of any thoughtful charity." Sometimes the grossest vice pre vailed within their walls. Thus there were good and bad monasteries. On the whole they were costly institutions, and were becoming a burden to the nation. Few people will deny that great and grave reforms were needed. Stern dealing was probably inevitable, but few will approve of the ruthless and insincere policy pursued by Cromwell and the King. The exchequer was low; it must be replenished; the monasteries were rich; they must be spoiled, and so an Act for the suppression of them was passed in 1536. This Act only'llealr'with the smaller monasteries; but once the stream began to flow it gained in force. Alarm was felt. Revolt was organised. It was pointed out to the poor, who were then ripe for revolt, for they had their own grievances, that they would suffer from the suppression of the religious houses ; the populace 1 82 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [1521- was aroused. The Pilgrimage of Grace, as it was called, took place in 1536. The insurrection, for such it was, provoked the Government to severer measures, but also gave excuse for the confiscation of the larger monasteries. The abbots of some, like those of Fountains and Jervaulx, were hung. Some of the leading nobles suffered with them. In some respects the nation gained by the suppression of the monasteries. The Crown gained in revenue. A few new bishoprics were founded; some Gain°na grammar schools were built; some roads and Channel fortifications were made, but the greater part of the property passed into the hands of great lords and landowners, who were thus bribed into approval of, if not sympathy with, the policy of Cromwell. The people and parishes of England, however, lost un fairly. Parishes, which had been united with, were severed now from, their monasteries, and the parish work Nationa was cripp[e(j a clergyman used to officiate on behalf of the monastery and was called the vicar. He was paid a small amount for doing the parish work, which the monks were supposed to do. Sometimes he was a canon or monk, who had an income besides the vicarial tithes, so that he was well enough paid. But when the monasteries were suppressed the great tithes, as they were called, passed into other, often into lay, hands, and in these cases the parishes were left with the vicar's smaller tithes. These too were not always paid or paid regularly, so that the spiritual ministry was in many cases inadequately provided for. Hardship too waited on many of the monks and nuns who were ejected. They were pensioned, it is true, but they were flung into a world in which they were strangers, and with which they were hardly fitted to cope. FOUNTAINS ABBEY. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 182. I54?] CRANMER'S BIBLE 183 irie suppression of the monasteries diverted for a time the King's attention from theological questions, but the doctrinal reformation did not wait for the King. Instruction The people were ripe for instruction. The books for the printed abroad were eagerly bought and read. People' Labourers were willing to pay as much as two weeks' wages to purchase a copy of Tyndale's New Testament. Latimer, whose heart was with the people, pleaded that they should be no longer kept in ignorance. He boldly attacked existing errors ; he told the Convocation of Canterbury that image worship and purgatory were superstitions ; he said, "You teach your own traditions and seek your own glory and profit.'' The Ten Articles, published The Ten in 1536, were an attempt to teach the people. Articles, In these Articles reformed ideas found some I53 ' place. The Articles, however, were soon followed by a manual called The Institution of a Christian iim , ^ , , J . . "Thelnstitu- Man. It was prepared by a committee of tion of a divines ; it was signed by the King, and pub- Christian lished in May, 1537. In doctrine it sought to keep a middle course between reforming and anti-reforming views. In its statement of the case of the Church of England against that of Rome it affirmed very clearly the rights of national churches : they were portions of the Universal Church. None of these national churches could claim superiority or authority over any other ; they were all equal in power and dignity. The Church of Rome could not claim to be the Catholic Church, but only one of the different portions of it, all of which, though united in foundation, were free ; they might differ in rites, yet their unity was not hindered by this variety. Meanwhile the Great Bible, or Cranmer's Bible, was being prepared; and in 1538 a. royal injunc- A Bible for tion ordered that a Bible in English was to be every church, provided in every church, where it might be ,S38, 1 84 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [1521- freely read. The Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments were to be taught to the people in English. Thus the simplest elements of religion were to be brought to the people in their own tongue. The spirit of the age would no longer be satisfied with unintelligent worship or religion by deputy. It must never be forgotten that one chief feature of the Reformation was the recognition that religion must be personal. Men had been content to have the Office, or set service, said for them ; and often neither priest nor people understood its meaning. Now it was realised that all were to take part in worship. What was to be offered to God must be real — the homage of the heart and of the understanding ; it must be the worshipper's own offering, and not delegated to another. In the significant phrase of one writer, "the laity were called into the chancel." The minister was no longer to be the substitute for the people ; he was to be what he had always been in the best ages of the Church— their representative, their voice. This change onlyTook place gradually, but a great step towards it was taken when the clergy were enjoined to promote intelligence in worship by letting the people hear truth in their own tongue ; and a still greater step was made when all were invited to come and read the Bible for themselves. You may still find in some places in England the chained Bible, which might be freely read by all parishioners. When you see such a thing you see a monument of a great epoch. Then the right of free study was conceded; thence arose that personal love of the Bible which has done so much to foster inward reverence, moral stability, and heavenly faith among us. Bible thoughts passed into the minds of the people ; they fed upon the splendid imagery of the prophets and seers ; they drank in the clear spiritual teaching of our Lord and His apostles ; they learned to reverence order, to love freedom, iS47] THE SIX ARTICLES 185 and to understand that without inward truthfulness the most elaborate show of piety is vain. But meanwhile the theological controversies of the times occupied the minds of the learned and great. Some in England, like Cranmer and Thomas Cromwell, The six would fain have drawn England and her Church Articles, nearer to Luther and his teaching. They were I539' moved partly by political and partly by theological opinions. But the King never forgot his former controversy with Luther. While his personal interests were enlisted in the spoliation of the monasteries he forgot questions of theology, but when the spoils had been distributed his theological interests revived. His ancient ahimosity against the German reformer awoke, and he busied him self once more in theological, matters. The famous and infamous Six Articles were passed. It is not certain that the King entirely agreed with them, but nevertheless he took an active part in the matter. The Articles show the triumph of the anti-reforming party. The . spirit of compromise had disappeared. 1. Transubstantiation was affirmed. 2. Communion in both kinds (i.e. bread and wine) was declared to be not necessary. 3. The clergy were forbidden to marry. 4. Vows of chastity might not be dispensed with by the dissolution of the monasteries. 5. Private masses should be continued. 6. Auricular confession was expedient and necessary. Such were the Six Articles. They were re actionary in teaching; they were vindictive in character, for the teaching they contained was made a part of the statute law of the realm, and anyone opposing this teaching was liable to heavy penalties. The fiercest penalty of all protected the first Article. Anyone who spoke against transubstantiation was to be burned with out abjuration, for by no recantation could the penalty be avoided. Numbers suffered under this Act; it drove 186 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [iS„ into exile two bishops, Latimer and Shapton. Later, however, mainly through the influence of Cranmer, it was softened. The people of England were in thT People ° a sorry case- ^* Institution of a Christian Man was known as the Bishops' book ; it contained doctrine approved and authorised, but it did not teach transubstantiation : it taught that the natural body of Christ is contained and comprehended under the form of bread and wine. But the first of the Six Articles declared, on a penalty of death by fire, that more than this was necessary. Throughout these times we see the oscillation of the waves of thought and of influence. There is a double movement. Some men's thoughts on these matters wavered : they had not reached a satisfactory resting-place. Their influence was hesitating and even self-contradictory. On the other hand there was the in fluence of men whose opinions were fixed to one side or the other. These constantly struggled for the upper hand. Sometimes one party rose into power, sometimes the other. These movements, like contending winds and tides, provoked cross currents, while political consider ations too often introduced further conflict and perplexity. We must bear these facts in mind, or we shall wonder at the contradictions which we meet in the history of this time. Thus there were those who favoured and those who opposed the reading of the Bible ; those who favoured and those who opposed the doctrine of transubstantia tion; those who favoured and those who opposed the reformation of the service books of the Church. ranmer. Cranmer's influence was in favour of reform ; he kept in touch with the leaders of refor mation on the Continent. He was not, however, in sympathy with the more violent of them ; he was a large- hearted, sober -judging man, amiable to weakness, and lacking the prophetic courage of Nathan or John the 1547] PROGRESS IN THE REIGN 187 Baptist. His chief adversary was Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a man of hard attorney-like views, which were based on small ecclesiastical rules or canons. He was, moreover, a man of more ability than honesty of mind. The work of reforming the service books was taken in hand by the Con- Reform"'^. vocation of Canterbury in 1542. An English version of the Lord's Prayer and Ten Commandments and the English Litany were produced. One chapter from the Old Testament and one from the New were to be read every Sunday in church. These took the place of the old and profitless legends which were so frequently read. On the whole, in spite of much opposition and varying fortune, a quiet and steady movement towards reformation went forward during the reign. The tide set against superstitions and towards intelligence jj^* in religion. The Bible became the heritage of the people, and has never since been lost. Ceremonies and ornaments which were thought to foster superstition were ordered to be discontinued. In this way the service called "The Creeping to the Cross" was forbidden, and images which had been misused in churches were abol ished. To Cranmer, whose influence was strong with the King and with Convocation, much of the advance was due. "The Church of England," says Canon Perry, "owes much to the Archbishop's persevering devotion to reforming views when he stood absolutely alone." Mistakes were made, no doubt. The sudden change from papal to national rule in religious matters caused perplexity. Men could not at first distinguish the spheres of freedom and authority, of politics and religion. Thus in flinging off the yoke of the Pope, and affirming the national inde pendence, mistaken and confused ideas of the Royal Supremacy prevailed. The personal character of the King Steps taken reign. 1 88 STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY [1547 gave strength to these exaggerated views. But as things were, the very exaggeration had its good side. The main thing to be secured was national independence ; and the supremacy of the King was a bulwark against foreign influence. CHAPTER XIX. REFORM AND REACTION a.d. 1547-1558 Things were in this position when Henry VIII. died. He had been an able monarch, but a self-indulgent and arro gant man. His reign had left a mark upon Independence national life. Men had suffered from cruel of Rome and oppressive laws, and from the uncertainties secured- of a fluctuating policy. Nevertheless, definite advance had been made. The independence of the Church and nation had been clearly affirmed and permanently secured. The new monarch was a boy of nine. The government of the nation was in the hands of a council. The leading spirit in the council was Somerset, who was elected Lord Protector. Somerset, whether from policy or Edward Vi.'s conviction, was attached to the cause of the Accession, Reformation. The sympathies of the young lS17' King were in the same direction. Cranmer, the ablest and most learned of the moderate reforming party, was Archbishop of Canterbury. Some of the great nobles were ready to support change in the hope of aggrandizing themselves. Motives good and bad prompted them to action. Under these influences the work of reformation made rapid progress. In the few short years of Edward VI.'s reign two re formed Prayer Books were issued. These are known as 190 REFORM AND REACTION [1547- the First and Second Prayer Books of Edward VI. It is well that we should know something about these Prayer Books, both because they are much talked of, RetLTorf°0k and also because we shall be better able to understand our present Prayer Book if we know something about the earlier Prayer Books. There had been different forms of common prayer used in different parts of England. These were called ' uses.' There was the form or use of Sarum, the form Use^6" or use 0^ York, of Bangor, and of Lincoln. The new Prayer Book was designed to put an end to these varieties, and to establish one common use throughout the country. For this purpose a body of divines met together at Windsor. Their first work was the preparation of an office or service of Holy Com munion. This was put out by royal authority. The consent of Convocation was neither asked or given. The new office was, as has been said, simply a State document. This was followed by the new Prayer Book. This Prayer Book, it is said, received the assent of Con vocation, though there is some uncertainty on the point. It came into use at Whitsuntide, 1 kaq. In First Prayer . ' ¦"? Book of harmony with national feeling, it was eminently Edward VI., conservative in tone. Wherever it was possible the old prayers and forms were retained, purged from the corruptions of medisevalism. The book, moreover, owed much to a service book, known as the Consultation of Archbishop Hermann. This service book, which had been compiled abroad, had been the work of the two Reformers, Melancthon and Bucer. It incorporated part of Luther's Nuremberg services. Thus the new Prayer Book, like most things English, contained much that was old and much that was new. Good might be found in both. The book was not liked by the Romanising party. They were reluctant to use it. They endeavoured to r558] FIRST PRAYER BOOK 191 use portions of the old service books in addition to the new, and they retained some of the mediseval and superstitious ceremonies which the new book did not sanction. They endeavoured, as it has been said, to give it a " complexion different from that which it was intended that it should have by the way in which they used it." They kept the same tone and manner of chanting which they had used in papal times. This state of things led to the issue of certain injunctions, which were intended to enforce the proper use of the Prayer Book. These injunctions forbade any to coun- Explanatory terfeit the mass, to kiss the Lord's table, to directions shift the book from one place to another, to ring lssued' »s«- sacring bells, or to set a light upon the Lord's table. The following were also forbidden : the maintaining of purgatory, invocation of saints, images, relics, lights, holy beads, holy water, creeping to the cross, oil, chrism, altars. These injunctions are valuable as a' commentary upon the First Prayer Book of Edward VI. They show us what was intended to be forbidden, and what were the ceremonials and ornaments which were deliberately laid aside. To the new Prayer Book a Form of Ordination was added. This was compiled by a committee of twelve, six of whom were bishops. It was laid before the Council, but not before Convocation, the committee having been given plenary powers. There had been some haste in the preparation of this First Prayer Book, for it was felt that something should be done and done promptly. The issue of the First Second Prayer Book was tentative and in a sense pro- Prayer Book, visional. It expressed, however, the reforming I5S*' spirit. Many superstitious usages were abolished. The Second Prayer Book, which appeared after a lapse of three years, showed a determination to carry reforming ideas 192 REFORM AND REACTION [1547- farther. It is sometimes said that the influence of foreigners was unduly seen in this book. It is true that the divines in England corresponded freely with divines abroad. A strong and brotherly feeling existed between the men who realised that Rome was their common foe. The necessity of co-operation was the more strongly felt because a great council of the Roman Catholic Church was then sitting at Trent. Cranmer realised the importance of collective action. He desired that the most learned and excellent persons "from all quarters should be convoked, and so provision made for the purity of ecclesiastical doctrine, and especially for an agreement upon the Sacramentarian controversy." For this purpose foreigners were freely invited to England. It is no discredit to English life and independence that this was the case. The counsel of thoughtful and learned men is never to be despised, and it is a mark of Cranmer's wisdom that he welcomed such men to English soil. But in the compilation of the Prayer Book the predominant influences were English. This is true both of the First and Second Prayer Book of Edward VI. ; but if one of these Prayer Books is more Due t0 truly due to English Church initiative than the action of other it is the Second Prayer Book. The First urc . prayer Book owed its birth to a body of divines, acting under royal authority, its Communion Office never received the sanction of Convocation : but the Second Prayer Book derived its origin from Convocation. The Upper House drew attention to defects in the First Prayer Book. After a time Convocation authorised a revision of the Book, and entrusted the work to the divines who had prepared the First Book. Thus it is " certain that the alterations made in the First Book of Edward VI. were the work of English divines acting on synodical authority." This revised PrayeriBook marks a further advance in reformed sentiment. The surplice .auly, was to be used i558] SECOND PRAYER BOOK 193 by the clergy. The words in the administration of the Holy Communion were altered to these, " Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee," etc. The new Prayer Book was soon followed by a declaration of doctrines embodied in forty-two Articles. These Articles of faith were submitted to the Council and, as seems likely, laid before Convocation, and were accepted by the clergy without any great difficulty. They formed the basis of our present thirty-nine Articles ; these con tained, however, Articles on subjects which are not mentioned in our present Articles, such as, "The souls of the departed do not perish nor sleep idly"; "All men not to be saved at the last," etc. Cranmer, who had taken a leading part in all these matters, was desirous that a book of reformed canon law should be issued. The work seems to have been finished, but it never received the sanction of the authorities. In the middle of these plans the young King died. Good and bad influences had been at work. The earnestness of men was seen working, according to their lights, for the religious good of the people. The avarice of men was seen working for their own profit. Great nobles had supported the Reformation movement, not because they loved pure teaching, but because they be lieved that the movement might be manipulated to their own advantage. To them Reformation meant dividing the spoil. Under their influence church property was alienated and church lands taken away. The houses of wealthy nobles were enriched with ornaments robbed from the churches. These were the men who roused the nation's disgust, and prepared for the reaction in the following reign. These were the men who for gain had been con tent to call themselves Protestant, and who in a few years were ready to call themselves Roman in order to keep their gain. These were the men who having sold them- o 194 REFORM AND REACTION [1547- selves were ready to sell their country. They cast a shadow upon the reign of a blameless and inexperienced sovereign. It is easy to speak slightingly of a boy who wore the crown for a few short years in difficult days, but Edward VI., whatever his limitations may Delt" 1553. S have been, was possessed of genuine piety, and a sincere desire to secure the best welfare of his people. He had no vulgar vices and no arrogant personal ambitions to distract his thoughts or degrade his character. Three great institutions, which have exer cised a lasting influence upon England, owe either their existence or their enrichment to his zeal — Christ's Hospital, St. Thomas's Hospital," and Bridewell. He promoted education. Grammar schools were multiplied in different parts of the country. We are not surprised that men, when they looked back from the darkness which followed, were tempted to glorify his character, and regret his early death. The accession of Mary changed the whole aspect of affairs. You all know the pathetic story of Lady Jane Accession of Grey. Her cause, slenderly and hesitatingly Queen Mary, supported, soon collapsed, and she herself fell ISS3' a victim to the weakness or rashness of those who had put her forward. There is a stubborn respect for law in the minds of Englishmen, and they can respect it even when it runs counter to their own interests. Mary was by law the heir to the throne; and Englishmen who had no love for the Princess, and who dreaded her acces sion to power, yet accepted her as their sovereign. They probably believed that the sovereign, on her side, would accept and respect the law. But in this they were mistaken. She had no sympathy with England or English sentiments or aspirations. She was her mother's rather than her father's child. Her KING EDWARD VI. From a painting in the National Portrait Gallery. To face p. 194. X5S8] COERCIVE POLICY 195 eart was in Spain, and she looked at all questions from a Spanish standpoint. One of the first acts of the Queen was to invite her subjects to break the laws of the land. She issued a proclamation in which she de- Her clared her own adhesion to the Roman faith Declaration, and her desire that the same should be enter- IS54' tained by all her subjects. She described herself as supreme head of the Church of England. She soon showed that she meant the title to be no ornamental one. She prohibited the preaching and exposition of the Bible without her royal licence. Bonner, a man of some astuteness and whose actions at least were cruel, who had accepted the royal supremacy under Henry VIII., and had been deprived of his bishopric as a Romaniser under Edward VI., was restored to the see of London, and was credited with rejoicing over the prospects he saw opening before him. He had " sour sauce " ready for his oppo nents. It was soon evident what the sour sauce meant. When Convocation met the attendance was so manipu lated that few of the reforming clergy were present. The slightest show of opposition to the new measures was severely repressed ; and the Pro- ^""r^4""1 locutor ended discussion with these ominous words : " It is not the Queen's pleasure that ye should spend any more time in these disputes ; and ye are well enough already, for ye have the word and we have the sword." The Houses of Parliament were not Pariiament so easily silenced, however; but even here coerced, the coercive policy ultimately succeeded. With *S53' considerable difficulty there was forced through the House of Commons a bill which annulled every Act touching religion passed in the previous reign. The Queen, however, was not satisfied. Her super stitious spirit could not rest till she had undone not only her brother's but her father's work, and brought England 1 96 REFORM AND REACTION [,547- again beneath the yoke of Rome. To accomplish this she had recourse to a mingled policy of bribery and Submission coercion. You remember that when the to Rome monasteries and chantries were suppressed resolved on. mucn 0f tne Sp0il went into the possession of the great barons and landlords. It was by these unworthy gifts that King Henry's minister, Cromwell, had sought to attach this body of men to his policy, but he did not foresee that his method gave the opportunity to a retrograde monarch for the undoing of his work. This was the weapon now used by Mary. Her heart was set upon the restoration of Romanised Christianity and Roman supremacy, and she gave those who had become enriched by the monastery spoils clearly to understand that only on condition of voting for reconciliation with Rome would they be left in undisturbed possession. It is an ill thing when important measures in the State are carried by appeals to the greed of men. This policy has a way of repeating and avenging itself. The very means which were used to promote a large-minded and progressive policy were employed to bring England back into spiritual and political servitude. It should never be forgotten that right things may be done in wrong ways. When we do evil that good may come we give a pledge to the devil which he is sure to demand from us before long. The Pope, willing to do much to regain power in England, authorised Cardinal Pole to permit the present holders of the despoiled Church property to continue to hold it. The sacrifice of the independence of England and her Church was the price which the men, who should have been foremost in chivalry and courage, were willing to pay for the sake of retaining this property. Meanwhile the Queen had been married to Philip of Spain, and all things were ready for the great humiliation of England. To their everlasting shame the members 1558 PERSECUTION BEGINS 197 of the two Houses of Parliament, coerced, cajoled, bribed out of their instincts of freedom, appeared on bended knee before the Cardinal, representing the Humiliation Pope, and received his absolution. Thus in of England, sixteen months from the death of Edward VI. ISS4' the great work of a generation was undone, and the birth right of Englishmen betrayed for a morsel of meat. But the Queen was not a person to be satisfied even by these splendid semblances of triumph. She was deter mined to give practical proof of her power and vivid evidence of the devotion of her faith. One cruel result of the new policy was that a large number of the clergy were deprived of their livings. The Reformation movement had restored the right of the clergy to marry. Many of the clergy, beegfnescuti°" acting within the rights secured to them by law, were now married ; but the repeal of ecclesiastical statutes deprived them of their legal protection, and as many as from one thousand five hundred to two thousand of them were now deprived of their benefices. Some, in order to qualify themselves to hold benefices, obtained divorces from their wives, but this was found in many cases to be a wasted sacrifice, for but few of them were reinstated or employed. The bishops, who were best known for their sympathy with the Reformation, were deprived of their sees. But soon was to follow that exhibition of gratuitous and irrational bigotry which has given such a BUfnings lurid notoriety to the reign of Queen Mary. Historians have been at a loss to account for the perse cution which now took place. The changes on which the Queen had set her heart had been carried out with discreditable alacrity ; no tumult had taken place ; no conspiracy against the sovereign had been hatched. There was no reason for severity in any symptoms of 198 REFORM AND REACTION [1547. disloyalty or rebellion. The only explanation which can be given is in the ferocity which is born of fanaticism and nurtured by superstition. The first to suffer was Rogers, Prebendary of St. Paul's ; he had taken a large share in the publication of the English Bible. He was a married man and °g6rs' the father of ten children. He was thrown into Newgate, and after a year's imprisonment was brought out for trial. He was accused of no treason ; he was suspected of no plot. His trial, and, indeed, the trial of all these men, turned on the question of transub stantiation. The corporeal presence and the doctrine of transubstantiation "were the burning questions throughout the whole reign." Rogers was condemned ; he was refused a last interview with his wife, and was burned at Smithfield. The populace sympathised with the martyr. The French Ambassador, Noailles, wrote that his "con stancy so delighted the people that they did not fear to strengthen his courage by their acclamations, even his own children joining, and consoling him after such a fashion, that it seemed as though they were conducting him to his nuptials." It was February 4th, 1555, when Rogers — who has been called (though not with strict accuracy) the protomartyr of the Church of England — died thus nobly. Four days later Sanders, Hooper,' Rector of All Hallows, Bread Street, was Rowland burned at Coventry. The next day Bishop Hooper was burned at Gloucester, and Dr. Rowland Taylor in the parish of Hadley, in Suffolk. In March and April there was a lull, and no victims seem to have suffered. The marriage of the Queen had put power into the hands of Philip and the Spanish Romanists. Nothing but vigorous and inquisitorial measures would satisfy these. There must be no inactivity in persecution, and in May Bonner and his brother bishops were reproved i558] THE FIRES OF SMITHFIELD 199 in an official circular from the Queen for not ensuring more vigorous measures against the so-called heretics, or dealing with them as " Christian charity re- Tne Queen quireth." The meaning of Christian charity urges Per- soon became clear. It meant burning the heretic whether he recanted or not. There is extant a letter to the Sheriff of Hampshire, in which he is told that the Queen thinks it strange that he should have delayed the execution of a man named Bembridge because he had recanted; he is enjoined to execute the sentence, and when he has burned him, he is bidden to appear before the Council to answer for his presumption in having delayed it so long. The Spanish party were no doubt largely responsible for this, but there was no hesitation or scruple in the mind of the Queen. Bonner was probably driven to cruelties beyond his inclinations. Though, therefore, March and April saw no victims, still the urgent letter issued in May produced some result. The hand of hard and unscrupulous power fell heavy upon those suspected of heresy. The weak and ignorant were not spared. In June six persons were burned at Smithfield, five of whom were un- Smithfield, lettered men, who were sincerely attached to their simple and scriptural faith. The storm of persecu tion had now burst upon the country. Hundreds fled for safety to the continent. There were, however, some who were too conspicuous to be able, or too courageous to be willing, to seek safety in flight. Among those thus left behind, three men — Cranmer, Ridley, Bishop of London, and Latimer, Bishop of Wor cester — were conspicuous for their position, reputation, and attachment to the cause of the Leaders?e Reformation. It was resolved that these three men should exemplify to England the inexorable sternness of the new regime. Latimer was now an old man. He 200 REFORM AND REACTION [1547- had been one of the bravest and most outspoken of preachers. His plain and vigorous speech, his pithy say- , . ings and pointed illustrations, had gone home to the hearts of the people ; his conspicuous sincerity and unflinching truthfulness had won their respect. But now that age was upon him the quick wit and ready tongue were not so nimble, the chill of lengthened years was upon his brain and speech. Heedless of his appear ance, half dazed and half indifferent to what was going on, he appeared before his judges, but when he spoke it was with directness and clearness. By his side was Ridle Ridley. Ridley was younger, and one of the most learned men of his day — a scholarly, gentlemanly, refined man. When pressed by his persecutors, he said, " I prefer the antiquity of the primitive to the novelty of the Church of Rome.'' The trial, which took place at Oxford, was soon over. The two bishops were condemned as heretics because they denied the doctrine of transubstantiation, and the theory that the mass was a lively sacrifice for the quick and dead. So their fate was settled ; the long and weary imprisonment was over, they were going to quit the cold walls upon which they had gazed so long ; their spirits rose, and on that last evening of their life they were cheerful and jocund. The stakes were erected opposite Balliol College, and the next morn ing they were led out to die. The mists of age seemed to clear away from old Latimer ; his quick wit returned ; he grew young again, and stood up at the stake, " a goodly man in his shroud." "Be of good cheer, Master Ridley," he cried to his comrade, as they walked to death, " Be of good cheer, and play the man, for we shall light this day,,, such a candle in England as by the grace of God shall never be put out." Latimer died quickly. Ridley was slower in burning and lived long in the flames, till a kindly QUEEN MARY. From a picture by J. Corvus in the National Portrait Gallery. To face p. 200. '558] THE OXFORD MARTYRS 201 hand helped on the welcome death by forcing the burning faggots towards the bag of gunpowder. And now the eyes of friend and foe were turned on one man, who still remained a prisoner at the Queen's will. The fate of Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canter- i . . ^s Cranmer. bury, was not yet made known. Cranmer had shielded the Queen's life by intercession with Henry VIII. On the other hand he was compromised in the movement to keep Mary from the throne; but his most heinous offence in the Queen's eyes — greater even than his share in the matter of her mother's divorce — was the part he had taken in the Reformation. He had shared in the great enterprise which shook England free from Rome, which gave to English people the Bible and the Prayer Book in their own tongue. His pen had written some of the most striking and beautiful parts of the book, which was destined to become a precious inheritance of after ages. His portrait appeared on the frontispiece of the Bible. He had corresponded with the leading foreign reformers. He had been chief adviser and Primate of the reformed Church of England ; this was his unpardonable sin. His treason was overlooked that he might be burned for heresy. To strike him down, degrading him, and putting him to death as a heretic would be the most vivid evidence of the restoration of Roman ascendency, and of the resolution of the Queen to leave no reforming spirit alive. Cranmer was brought to trial, but he was doomed beforehand. Recantation of his so-called errors would not save him. A more courageous mind might have foreseen this. But Cranmer possessed a temperament which was singularly timid, and an understanding which, trained in troublous times, had grown accustomed to "gaknesSi seeking peaceful solutions of vexed questions. He had had to steer the way between opposing currents of thought. His amiable disposition and the force of 202 REFORM AND REACTION [iS47- experience disposed him to meet opponents half-way ; so, partly through "the soft and tremulous coward in the flesh," and partly through the desire to concede as much as he could, he was induced to sign one form of recan tation after another. He was beset by arguments ; he was betrayed by hopes held out to him ; recantations of opinion were procured from him, while the fact that he was doomed was concealed from him. Thus it happened that as he passed through the streets of Oxford on the stormy and rainy 21st of March, five months after Latimer and Ridley had *™"e suffered, he believed that he had only ta adhere to his recantation and his life would be safe. But as he walked towards St. Mary's Church a conflict was taking place in his mind. He had been weak ; he knew it, and he was sitting in judgment upon his own vacillation. There are things worse than death, and it would be worse than death were he to be the cause of perplexity and dismay, to the hearts of thousands whom he had led to purer principles of faith. Moreover, what he had taught was what he, in his best moods and moments, believed to be true — ) "It is but a communion, not a mass; \a , No sacrifice, but a life-giving feast. " They could but burn him. If he abjured his recantation they would, of course, condemn him ; he could expect in that case no mercy at their hands. Let them condemn him ; they could not condemn him more bitterly than he condemned himself for his weakness. But condemnation meant death, and death meant burning. Well, let them burn him ; an uneasy conscience is worse than fire. So, as the wind flouted his robes and the rain beat upon his face, his mind was made up. He would make the one atonement in his power for the cowardly vacillation 1558] CRANMER BURNED 203 he had shown. He would avow his own belief; he would repudiate his weakly-given recantations. The church was crowded. The vast audience expected him to make his retrocession to Rome and recant his opinions. He spoke, but not as they expected. His Death] He spoke like a true and honest man, humbled March «, by the remembrance of his own blameworthy iss6- hesitation. He repented — yes, but not of the errors — of his weakness. He had done wrong — his hand had un worthily signed recantations which he ought to have refused. He knew that fire awaited him : he was but a poor weak man, who, like other men, shrank from death, but he would keep his honesty now, and his unworthy right hand should first taste the fire. His enemies were disappointed ; they had hoped first to shame him by his recantation, and then to take him to the stake. Now, however, he would go to the stake as one who, whatever weakness he may have shown, is playing the man at the last. Indeed, the pathos of the spectacle appealed to the human heart of thousands. They could understand the fear which shrank from that fierce death ; they could despise the man who out of fear denied his faith ; but when they saw a man who, while confessedly one with them in the dread of death, yet rose to the dignity of self-condemnation and the heroism of a courage born of remorse, a responsive sympathy swept through their souls, and their sympathy became one of respectful admiration as they saw the quiet patience with which Cranmer died, holding his right hand in the flame till it was consumed. It is easy to find fault with Cranmer. It is only brutal natures, however, who will exult over his weakness. Men are differently constituted, and there may be , ¦ ¦ . , , r . , His character more heroism in the weakness of one man than and worki in the courage of another. Latimer, for ex ample, hardly knew fear : his was a bright, vigorous, brave 204 REFORM AND REACTION [,547- soul ; while Cranmer was constitutionally timid, and we can measure his heroism by the effort which it must have cost him to fling away the hope of life at the eleventh hour Individual historians have made merry over Cranmer, but the hearts of men have judged him differently : they have understood ; they have forgiven ; they have learned to admire ; they have realised that the death of Cranmer, in its pathos, exercised a powerful influence over the minds of Englishmen, and that his supreme sacrifice, though tardily made, helped forward the cause which, in spite of weakness, was dear to Cranmer's heart. The wanton cruelty of Mary's reign provoked reaction. Englishmen, true to their sense of justice, had accepted her sway, but the Queen had shown herself unworthy of their trust. She had set herself to root out opinions, and only fixed their hold upon English thought and life. Of two matters there is no question. There is no question of the deliberate sacrifice of human life in Mary's reign. There is no question of the Queen's own personal responsibility for the barbarities committed. Mary succeeded to the throne in July, 1553. She com menced the burnings in February, 1555; she died in the November of ^58. She thus reigned five years. The active persecution lasted three years and a half, and within that period no fewer than two hundred and eighty-six persons were burned for their religious opinions ; forty of these were women. Mary chided the halting hands of the authorities ; she urged forward horrors. " To detail them," such is the verdict of a Romanist historian, "to detail them would be a revolting task ; the mind would shudder, the heart sicken at the recital." Englishmen looked on at these horrors, and they did not forget. They saw how men could suffer, and with what high courage they met their fate. They saw prelates, venerable for their learning, eloquence, and piety, burned 1558] DEATH OF MARY 205 in the public streets. They saw ignorant artisans, raw lads, and tender women dragged to the same hideous death. Meanwhile they saw their Queen, moody, harsh, superstitious, miserable because she knew that Mae e*'8 ° she was disliked by her husband and hated by her people, powerless to prevent the misfortunes which her policy had brought upon England. " She lived almost alone, employing all her time in tears, lamentations, and regrets, in writing to try and charm back her husband to her, and in fury against her own subjects." The simple truth was that Mary lacked the English heart. She did not consider her people's welfare; her soul was bound up in two things, her husband and her superstitious dread of Rome. In both she was disappointed. She could not attach her husband, though she was ready to sacrifice the future of England to the policy of Philip. To please her husband she embarked upon a war with France, which ended in the loss of Calais. But the sacrifices she made of English interests were wasted. She tried in vain to win Philip's affection. She failed with her husband ; she failed with Rome. She found herself involved in a quarrel with the Pope, though she had humiliated England to win his favour. She had a frenzied sort of affection. She had a fanatical religiousness, but she was deficient in that moral elevation which alone can give dignity to character and sanity to faith. So in her closing hours she had none of that courage which springs from confidence in the righteous ordering of God's world ; but gloomy and despondent she passed away from a people who could not pretend to regret her, and who ever after associated her public policy with the loss of Calais, and her name with the barbarities which disfigured her reign. CHAPTER XX. ELIZABETH A.D. 1558-1570 When it was known that Queen Mary was dead, English men breathed a sigh of relief as they turned the eyes of their hope towards the Princess Elizabeth. Oueen61" ^he ^ve years 0I" Mary's reign had been perilous years for that Princess. She had lived in the presence of vigilant and merciless enemies. The slightest imprudence, a careless expression or a thoughtless act, might have brought her into peril by giving a chance to those who sought occasion against her. Her personal gifts contributed to her safety. She had beauty and wit; her astute reticence and her no less astute utterance turned the edge of suspicion. She was, moreover, safeguarded by the unsleeping loyalty of those English hearts who saw in her life a defence against foreign aggression and the assurance of religious freedom. Her beauty commended her to Philip, who perhaps cherished the hope of marrying her after Queen Mary's death. Her natural capacity and painfully -educated powers of observation had taught her the value of speech and the value of silence. More than once her life was in imminent peril. The eye of religious intolerance, scarcely less hard than the eye of political necessity, sought to find a weak spot in her armour. She had acquiesced, though without pretending enthusiasm, in 206 1558-70] ELIZABETH IN LONDON 207 the religious order forced upon the people by Queen Mary. It was, however, believed that her sympathies were with the principles of the Reformation. She was at Hatfield when the news of Queen Mary's death reached her, and soon a hopeful and expectant people welcomed her to London. Nobles, land owners, bishops, merchants, and apprentices ^0 London went out to meet her on the crest of Highgate Hill. There on the height which commanded a wide and noble prospect of London there was a pause while peer and prelate bowed to kiss her hand. The young Queen — she was only twenty-five — greeted all graciously — all save one. From the pressure of one hand she seemed instinctively to shrink. With all her practised self-control she could not affect to welcome the touch of Bishop Bonner, who, rightly or .wrongly, was regarded as the " Butcher of the Tower," and who was certainly the chief agent in the days of cruelty and blood. Her recoil from Bonner's homage was probably a womanly instinct, which of itself could not be regarded as a sign of her religious sympathies ; but another incident which occurred in the course of her royal progress left little room for doubt. The inhabitants of London had prepared a number of triumphal arches to welcome the new Queen. These arches bore witness to the hopes of the people, for they were rich in elaborate symbolism. Some of them were historical and allegorical tableaux. Virtue was represented treading vice underfoot. Sovereignty was shown adorned with emblems of the Beatitudes. Among these tableaux one exhibited Time leading forth from the curse of ignor ance his daughter Truth. Truth bore in her hand an English Bible, which she presented to the Queen. The Queen took it with reverence in both hands, pressed it to her heart, and raised it to her lips. The action was to thousands the symbol of a new era. It expressed a 208 ELIZABETH [1558- resolution that there should no longer be submission to the tyrant-yoke of Rome. One of the first Acts passed in the reign was the Supremacy Act. This Act restored " to the Crown the ancient jurisdiction over the State Ecclesiastical." It thus put an end to the papal supremacy which Queen Mary had forced upon the country. The Act declared the Queen to be Supreme Governor — thus abandoning the word Head (which had formerly been used) — of the realm, "as well in all spiritual or ecclesiastical things as temporal." The Act also repealed the Acts touching religion or the Roman ising Acts of the previous reign. This Supremacy Act gave the Queen power to visit and reform errors, heresies, schisms, and abuses. Out of this power arose the Ecclesiastical Commission, which became active at a later time. Its duties were wide, and touched matters of immorality as well as nonconformity, though it is mainly with the latter that its name has been popularly associated. To understand the reign of Elizabeth and the fortunes of the Church under her rule we must remember the state of the kingdom, and the different forces theWmvtry. wr)icn were contending for political and re ligious ascendency. The state of the kingdom was about as bad as it could be. England had sunk low in the eyes of Europe. Mary had been willing to treat her realm as a pawn in the game which foreign princes were playing. ' ' Naught shall make her rue, If England to herself do but prove true," wrote Shakespeare. But just the thing Mary would not do was to let England be true to herself. She wanted England to be faithful to the Spanish interests and to the court of Rome. The result was that defeat and dis- 1 1 Ipm »§£& \j^,. If j£a QUEEN ELIZABETH. REVERSE OF M R.DAL, From the medal struck in celebration of the defeat of the Spanish Armada. To face p. 208. ,570] POLITICAL DIFFICULTIES 209 grace had fallen to the lot of England, who had lost her last foothold on the Continent when Calais surrendered to the Duke of Guise. Except Spain, England had no allies ; on the north Scotland was a constant source of danger. At this time the peril was all the greater because Mary Queen of Scots, having married the French Dauphin, had rendered Scotland strong through her alliance with France. A further subtle force added to the danger : doubts were thrown on Elizabeth's right to the throne. Mary Stuart assumed the royal arms of England, and was disposed to dispute Queen Elizabeth's claim. There were some who, from conviction or interest, were ready to declare that the claim of Mary to England was better than that of Elizabeth. Elizabeth, it is true, was the daughter of Henry VIII., but was not Mary of Scotland grand-daughter /of Henry VIL, and of a descent which could be challenged by none ? In the story of her pedigree there were no tales of complicated divorces, as there were in Elizabeth's, to vitiate her claim. You will see, therefore, that England was beset by dangers and difficulties. There were other perils besides these political ones. Religious feeling had been deeply stirred, and the policy of Mary had widened the gulf which separated men from one another. Persecution is always P0sitioen,'e'ous bad, bad in itself and utterly alien to the spirit of Christ; but persecution is also bad in its effects. It hardens men in their opinions, and makes calm discussion almost impossible. Thus the burnings in Mary's reign had intensified differences. This was one source of danger to Elizabeth. Between Roman and Protestant there could be little truce. Again, another element of difficulty lay in the different types of thought represented in the forward movement of the times. There were, for example, those whose interest in the Reformation was doctrinal, and who rejoiced at the overthrow of a superstitious creed. Most p 210 ELIZABETH [1558- of these were in sympathy with that large body of men who regarded the movement as a happy revolt against a tyrannical order. There were others who viewed the movement mainly from an intellectual standpoint, and who welcomed in it the spread of learning, the diffusion of culture, and the recognition of intellectual freedom. These last were the men who thought less of dogmatic differences than of the opportunity of giving an opening to the spread of the new learning. Some of teiiectuaiists tnese men had Roman, others had Protestant sympathies, but all of them were agreed in their love of light and freedom, and probably also in attaching comparatively little importance to some of the doctrines which led to such violent disputes. But this body of men was small, and they exercised comparatively little immediate influence. If parties are to be measured by intellectual stature and not by numbers this party should be counted as great. But intellectualists have a poor time of it in this world, and men, whose larger minds find that the world often grows hot about trifles, are soon elbowed out of the crowd in the days of controversy. This was the fortune of the small body of enlightened men who saw the horizon, because they looked beyond the hedges and ditches among which they were walking. Further, the controversial spirit was abroad, and there were also many currents of thought, all exercising more or less influence, beneath the surface-waters which were agitated by the winds of high politics. There were men eager to intrigue for the restoration of Roman supremacy ; there were men who disliked Roman tyranny but who favoured Roman teaching; there were men who would have nothing to do with aught that had ever' been used or sanctioned by Rome, to whom novelty was the touch stone of truth; there were men who cared little about religious truth, and who regarded political necessities only ; i57o] RELIGIOUS PARTIES 211 there were men who were intensely English and wished England to be left to her own free choice; and there were those who wished that the Church of England should settle all questions by scriptural authority, and as far as possible by primitive precedent. Such were some of the currents of thought. They were the more strongly defined, because the pitiless persecutions in Mary's reign had em bittered men's minds. There were many who felt that the faith which had shown itself in such cruel guise could have nothing good in it. Every doctrine, Tn0ugat° every ceremony, every rite, every order associ ated with the Roman supremacy was viewed with suspicion by some. There were others who had suffered from persecution, and who were strongly opposed to the Roman domination, but who felt, nevertheless, that a wholesale repudiation of every prayer and every rite, simply because it had been used in the days of the Roman rule, was foolish and needless. After all a prayer, which had been composed by some ancient father of the Church, and which had been used for twelve centuries, was not neces sarily a bad prayer because it had been used in conjunction with semi-pagan superstitions. Good prayers don't become bad because they have been used by bad or misguided men. It was enough to clear away from the services of the Church whatever savoured of superstition or was certainly unwarranted by the Bible. These men were disposed to ask, not "Was it ever used under Roman authority ? " but " Is it good, scriptural, primitive ? " Per haps the best way of understanding what took place is to recall Dean Swift's story, called the Tale of a Tub. In it he describes three brothers, who had each inherited from his father a stout leathern suit of clothes. Their father had left instructions in his will T™,fofa that they were to go about simply and plainly clad, and not to add tawdry and conspicuous ornaments 212 ELIZABETH [1558 to their apparel. This instruction soon became burden some, and Peter, the eldest brother, who had an ingenious turn of mind, began to argue that such and such orna ments were not forbidden, and he persuaded his brothers to begin a more fashionable splendour of apparel. So the leathern suits were tricked out with gaiety and gold. Of course this habit of decorating their clothes increased and changed with fashion, and with each advance there was a discussion whether the change was sanctioned by the father's will. Peter was always equal to the occasion, and proposed some subtle quibble to evade the clear provisions of the father's will. At length he persuaded his brothers that the will need not be referred to as he was the guardian and interpreter of the will, and that therefore whatever he sanctioned must be right. For a time the younger brothers, Martin and John by name, were content ; but at last they began to think seriously of their father's wishes ; they looked at the will for themselves ; they saw how wrong they had been ; they contemplated with shame their now vulgarly over-ornamented clothes, and they determined to strip away all the gilded points and tags by which their simple suits were overlaid. They set to work with vigour ; but now came a difficulty. In removing the ornamentation they might damage the suit of clothes which after all was their father's legacy. This led to a difference between Martin and John. John said, " Let every trace and shred of these vile ornaments dis appear ; let us do this whatever be the consequences." "Nay," cried Martin, "let us first remember to keep the leathern suit intact and strip off all the ornaments we can, so long as we do not injure the suit of clothes." But John would not be persuaded; he tore away with such vigour that he left great holes in his suit. Martin went more patiently to work, and he so wrought that he 1570] THE REFORMATION IDEAS 2ij removed all the tawdry ornamentation which was possible, but he preserved intact the suit of clothes. This story is a parable of the Reformation. Great abuses had grown up, and for these the Church of Rome was mainly responsible. These abuses — strange A picture ceremonies, some even redolent of a pagan of the spirit, and strange doctrines which had no Reformation- ground in the teaching of Christ and His apostles — had been imposed upon men. These were so many that the simple truths of the New Testament were obscured. They were like the ornamentations which completely hid the useful simplicity of the leathern suit of which I have been telling you. The Reformation was the time when people began to ask what the Bible said, and to look to the Bible as the guide of their religious and Church life. But as Peter made himself the interpreter of his father's will and kept his brothers from looking at it, so the bishops of Rome had taken upon themselves the supreme right of telling all churches and Christian people what they might or might not do, think or believe. The Re formation shows us people asking for the Bible as Martin and John asked for their father's will. But the reformers divided into two sections — those who, like John, were ready to spoil their inheritance rather than leave a rag of Rome among their customs ; and others who, like Martin, felt that they must above all things preserve the inheritance which had come to them from Christ and His apostles, and who were ready to, keep all that was good whoever had used it, and even to leave some things which could not be removed without running the risk of damaging something more precious. The great difficulty in Elizabeth's day was the Prayer Book. Everybody, or almost everybody, agreed The question that the nation should have a Prayer Book of the sanctioned and approved by the- law and rayer 214 ELIZABETH [1558- constitution. But what was the Prayer Book to be? In Edward VI. 's reign there had been two Prayer Books — one issued in 1549, the other in 1552. Some people liked the First Prayer Book best, others preferred the Second. Both of them were Prayer Books of the Re formation ; that is to say, both set aside many of those superstitious ceremonies and false teachings which had prevailed in the days of the Roman usurpation. The hand of the Reformation was clearly seen in the First Book ; the Second Book went further in the way of change, but there were some who even then were not satisfied. The alterations did not go far enough for them. You will see, therefore, what difficulties surrounded those who in Elizabeth's reign were entrusted with the duty of preparing a Book of Common Prayer^ook Prayer f°r tne nation. Among their diffi culties we must reckon the Queen herself. The Queen was really a great politician, she was also a Tudor, and was not averse from enforcing her own fancies in a high-handed fashion. Those who were entrusted with the work met, and produced issg6 a Prayer Book, the basis of which was the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI. We know something of the principles which guided the commissioners from a letter addressed by Dr. Guest to Sir William Cecil. He says that ceremonies which had been ill-used were taken away ; images were, in their judgment, condemned in Scripture — and this, in their view, included the crucifix ; processions were super fluous; the surplice was sufficient in all services; according to ancient custom non-communicants should leave the church before the Holy Communion proper began. Prayers for the dead were not authorised in the primitive Church, and were dangerous in tendency. The 1570] THE NEW PRAYER BOOK 215 Prayer Book which these commissioners produced was issued in 1559. According to the description of it in the Act of Uniformity, it was the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI. with some alteration or addition in the Sunday lessons, some alteration in the Litany, and two sentences in the delivery of the elements to the com municants. In point of fact, the only important alteration thus formally acknowledged, was the combining of the sentences of the First and Second Prayer Books of King Edward's reign in the words of administration of the Holy Communion. The Act of Uniformity, i.e. an Act which required that the same service book was to be used in every place, specified the above mentioned as the only changes, but as a fact one or two others were made, and it is believed that these illegal changes were due InfleUenuceeen S to the arbitrary action of the Queen. It was due to her that the ornaments rubric* was illegally inserted, and the rubric about kneeling at the Holy Communion was omitted. It is thought that the Queen, who loved pomp and ceremony, hoped that the old vest ments would be revived. But this is only conjecture, and is not borne out by what took place afterwards. It may be, however, that the Queen, who was before all things a politician, was wishful to do all in her power to conciliate those who liked the more pompous form of service. But not only the liturgy but the doctrines of the Church were considered at this time. In 1563 Convocation met to * This so-called rubric was not properly a rubric : it was an injunction added to the general instructions prefixed to the Prayer Book. As issued by Queen Elizabeth it provided that the officiating clergyman " shall use such ornaments in the Church as were in use by authority of Parliament in the second year of the reign of King Edward the Sixth, according to the Act of Parliament set in the beginning of this book." This .injunction was somewhat amended in 1662, and as so amended it remains in our present Prayer Book, 216 ELIZABETH [I5S8- consider the Articles of religion. The forty-two Articles issued in Edward VI. 's reign were taken as the basis. These were altered, amended, and reduced in number, and, after being generally accepted by Convocation, were submitted to the Queen. Some delay occurred. The Queen, as we have said, took little interest in theology. She may, too, have felt that delay was wise; for in the early part of the reign she hoped that she might win to her side those whose sympathies were with Roman thought and feeling. The Pope had not taken the strong step of excommunicating her, and the Queen's instinct was to leave as many questions as possible unsettled, for as long as they were unsettled she had a way of retreat from any position which might prove dangerous. This led her often to give evasive and prevaricating replies to foreign emissaries. She dared not alienate the Roman Catholic party, who might conspire to set Mary Queen of Scots on the throne of England. She was feeling her way, and therefore adopted a policy of astute vacillation ; but her vacillation was not the result of weakness but of strength, so far, that is, as policy is ever strength. Her strength came from this, that she had in all her hesitations one clear aim : unlike her sister Mary she loved England, and she meant to sit upon the throne of England. All her changefulness was the changefulness of one who kicks cushions and hassocks about in order to sit more firmly and comfortably in his seat. But the day was quickly coming which would put an end to doubt and hesitation when a common danger was to unite the people of England round the throne The Foreign 0f Elizabeth. Beneath the varying currents Foes and the , , . T , pope. there were at work elements which could never be reconciled. The freedom and inde pendence of England were wholly incompatible with papal claims. For long the main issue was studiously kept in 1570] FOREIGN FOES 217 the background by the chief actors on the stage. It did not suit Elizabeth's policy to enter upon a struggle till she had felt the pulse of her people and established the security of her throne. Philip of Spain was too wary to provoke hostilities with England as long as there was a hope that -he might steal back to England and promote the cause of Rome there as the husband of the Queen ; and even when his chance of marrying Elizabeth was gone, he still hoped, by bringing about her marriage with some Roman Catholic prince, again to restore papal influence. But soon these hopes were shown to be vain ; and those who had hitherto worn masks in their dealings were com pelled to unmask and to look into one another's faces. Two things, then, were clear : England was resolved never again to allow the rule of Rome ; Rome was resolved to drive Elizabeth from the throne, and to establish a Roman Catholic sovereign in her place. CHAPTER XXI. THROUGH CONFLICT TO VICTORY A.D. 1570-1603 The hostile elements soon showed themselves. The Pope had not acknowledged Queen Elizabeth's title to The Conflict tne throne. Those bishops who had accepted begins, the Roman yoke in Queen Mary's day hesitated IS59' to acknowledge Queen Elizabeth, and yet dared not deny her title. Elizabeth had treated them with kindly toleration ; she was willing to leave them a large liberty, but loyalty to her as sovereign was indispensable. They were asked to take the supremacy oath — they refused. It was known, moreover, that some of them were already engaged in treasonable correspondence with Mary Queen of Scots. Their refusal to take the oath made their retirement from their sees necessary. They were deprived, but they were treated with marked consideration. Some of them found a hospitable home under Archbishop Parker's roof at Lambeth. The cause of Elizabeth and of English freedom became increasingly bound up with the cause of the Protestant movement everywhere. Mary Queen of Scots was opposed by the Protestants of Scotland ; she sought to rouse the Romanists of England against Elizabeth. Philip of Spain saw in Queen Mary the only door by which Romanism could re-enter England; were Elizabeth dethroned and Mary Stuart in her place the cause of Rome would triumph. 218 MEDAL STRUCK TO COMMEMORATE THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. To face p. 218. 1570-1603] ROME AND THE ARMADA 219 It thus became the interest of Philip to support Mary of Scotland. Rome exulted on seeing the great powers of Europe resolving against the cause of the Re formation. It was not always that motives of ^r™03' policy allowed of an open determination to extirpate the powers of Protestantism, but now the moment seemed auspicious, and it was not difficult to enlist Philip of Spain in the cause. France, through the unscrupulous Queen-mother, Catherine de Medici, could be cajoled or betrayed into vigorous measures. The Massacre Massacre 0f of St. Bartholomew, contrived by her, and hailed St. Barthoio- with furious delight at Rome, showed the kind mew' lS72' of game which some did not scruple to play. The Pope viewed the slaughter as a holy sacrifice to the faith, and the deed of treachery and blood was approved by a medal which he caused to be struck in commemoration of the event. The Protestant powers were alive to their danger, and all eyes turned to the Queen of England as the representative of the spirit of the Reformation. Elizabeth had long been able to keep danger away by playing off Spain against France, threatening in turn an alliance with one against the other. But Rome on the one hand, and the sturdy independence of England on the other, were forcing events forward. The mask had now fallen. The Pope thundered his excommunication against Excommuni- Elizabeth. Her subjects were released from cation of the her rule; they were free to plot against her Quee°'IS7°' sceptre and against her life. The Roman Catholic powers were urged to execute the papal decree, to invade England, and to overthrow the throne of Elizabeth. The The great fleet— called the Armada— was fitted out. Armada, All the west of England throbbed with terror ,s88' and relief; the hour of suspense was over, the time of action had come. And Englishmen showed that they could act. They recognised with a quick instinct that 220 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [,S70- Spain was the centre of the danger which threatened them. The English seamen embarked in their little ships ; they swept across the seas ; they lighted now on a colony, now on a seaport of Spain. Many hung on the rear of the huge Armada when it appeared ; they harassed, they worried, they out-manceuvred, they out-sailed the Spanish galleons. The winds of heaven favoured them. The storm and the courage of the English sea-dogs completed the discomfiture of the huge fleet which Spain had equipped, and which the Pope had blessed. Englishmen, when they saw the flying sails of their foes driven into the German Ocean, or gathered the fragments of the shipwrecked fleet on the shores of Scotland, breathed freely, and a great song of gratitude went up to heaven. God, they felt, had fought for them ; as He had interposed to save Israel from Egypt or Hezekiah from Sennacherib, so He had wrought gloriously for England. "Flavit et dissipati sunt" was engraved on the medal struck to commemorate the great deliverance. We cannot wonder that exasperation should prevail in England. On confessedly religious grounds the safety and liberty of England had been assailed with Measures deadly weapons. The open foe was on the against the seaj [,ut he was less dangerous or fatal than the secret foes who in England, armed by religious fanaticism and encouraged by papal benediction, had been waiting their opportunity to assassinate the Queen, and to raise revolt among her subjects. For years conspiracies had been on foot, but the policy of Elizabeth had been one of patience; even after the open hostility of the Pope the same policy continued. Parlia ment, indeed, had declared that those who brought the Papal Bull of excommunication into England, or who were reconciled to Rome, were to be regarded as traitors; but no practical use was made of this declaration. But when i6o3] PLOTS AGAINST THE QUEEN 221 agents of Rome landed, and when at length the Jesuits arrived (1580), there seemed reason to fear the results. Queen Mary of Scotland had allowed herself to be mixed up in these plots. She had fled to England from the Scotch people, whom she had alienated by her Roman Catholic views and had driven into revolt by lightness of conduct and domestic treachery. All Scotland believed her to be guilty of the murder of her husband Darnley. Her friends had deserted her, and she had sought shelter in the realm of Elizabeth, the claim to whose crown she had refused to abandon. She was allowed to remain, how ever, for years unmolested ; but when, on the arrival of the Jesuits, conspiracies were set on foot in which Queen Mary was believed to be implicated, she could no longer be regarded as a guest under surveillance. Many of the plots found their centre in her. Her residence in England, which was practically an imprisonment, was felt by some of the great officers of state to be a standing menace to the stability of Elizabeth's throne. Queen Mary was executed in 1587. The fear of treason — not unreasonable in itself — had broken into panic, and panic is always cruel. The name of Papist became synonymous with traitor. Roman priests who came over to England were viewed with suspicion, not on account of their religion, but because they were believed to be political emissaries, or at least bound to obey the mandates of the Pope, who had ex communicated the Queen and had given his blessing to treason. A young priest who landed in the west of England was found to have the Papal Bull of deposition with him. The agents of the Jesuits, coming over in disguise, moved about the country, worked in secret, and strove to persuade people to forsake the services of the Church, and to be reconciled to Rome. They fostered a spirit at least passively disloyal, they encouraged conspiracy, they did not hesitate to suggest the assassination of the Queen. 222 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [,570 These things became known. Exaggerated rumours spread, the danger to the throne and the liberties of England was magnified into gigantic proportions. The secret disguises of the agents of Rome added to the general alarm. Men did not know whether the manservant behind their chair or the soldier of fortune whom they met upon the road, or the courteous-mannered English clergyman whom they encountered at an inn, was not a tool of the power which had devoted Elizabeth to destruction, and had sanctioned falsehood as a legitimate weapon if used on behalf of the Holy Church. Under the influence of the fears thus awakened, strin gent laws were passed against priests and popish recusants. The laws were enforced with severity, and sometimes without discrimination. The Government were p^ta.samst in a difficulty; there was no wish to persecute men because of their religion, but accused Romanists found it difficult to repudiate the Papal Bull which had excommunicated and deposed the Queen. Loyalty to the Pope unfortunately was treason to the Queen. This was the difficulty alike of the Government and of the accused. This is the sad and dark page of Elizabeth's reign. It is to the credit of some of the great Roman Catholic families that they preserved their patriotism and loyalty unshaken in these troubles. We must deplore the savage severities which marked this period, but we must remember that plots and intrigues were everywhere. Secret agents were inciting the Roman Catholic population to revolt ; the Queen was openly in Europe declared by the Roman Catholic authorities to be no lawful sovereign; the shores of England were threatened by the hosts of Spain and France, who were eager to force upon England another sovereign, to sweep away freedom, and to establish the Inquisition. Men saw the Armada, they remembered Smithfield, they had heard of 1603] CONTRASTED SEVERITIES 223 St. Bartholomew. No wonder they were alarmed. Danger looked at them open-eyed and armed. You will see that there was a great and marked difference between the severities of Mary's and those of Elizabeth's reign. In the former men were put to death for severities of their religious views, and for those alone. No two reigns hint of treason was ever breathed against Rogers con ras e ' or Taylor, against Hooper or Latimer. And even men like Cranmer and Ridley, who were implicated in the Lady Jane Grey conspiracy, were not burned for their treason, but because they could not believe in transubstan tiation. In the latter reign men were not imprisoned or executed because they were Roman Catholics, but because they were believed to be engaged in treasonable conspiracy against the throne and liberties of England. It is true that public panic sometimes failed to discriminate between the guilty and the innocent. The mere fact that a man was a Roman priest was too often regarded as evidence of treason, but none were condemned because they held particular religious opinions. No man was put to death because he believed in transubstantiation, though some who believed in transubstantiation were put to death. They were suspected because they were Papists, i.e., supporters of the Pope, who had excommunicated the Queen, sanctioned disloyalty, and had actively supported treason. Thus all who were suspected of treasonable attachment to a foreign power were exposed. to peril, but no man was put to death for his faith. This is the reason that the severities of Elizabeth's reign were soon forgotten, while those of Mary's reign became a proverb and a horror. The same explanation cannot be urged for the severe measures against the Separatists, such as the Brownists and the Independents. They were separatists. not suspected of any alliance with a foreign foe. The explanation in this case lies in the strong idea of 224 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [1570- discipline and authority held by Elizabeth. She was a great Queen, and she had strong ideas of a sovereign's power. When Cecil once told her in her illness that she must go to bed she flashed out upon him with the reply, " Must ! Is Must a word to be addressed to princes ? " She had the old Tudor notion of a prince's rights and powers; she could not endure lack of discipline, and she expected that laws should be obeyed. When, therefore, an Act of Uniformity in , religion was passed she was irritated to hear that there was any irregularity or reluctance to conform to the law. She did not wish to interfere with opinions, but in her view conformity was a matter of order. Now there were many in England who could not accept the religious settlement made under Elizabeth. The Romanists had been, in some measure, willing to conform at first, but the Pope ordered them to become noncon formists. The extreme section of the Reforming party had been largely influenced by the foreign divines — like Calvin. Some of these wished to get rid of all ceremonies. They objected to the use of a ring in marriage or the sign of the cross in baptism, or the use of the surplice in the services. They were disappointed because their views were not allowed to prevail. Many of them refused to conform to the Prayer Book. Thus on two sides— on the Roman side and on the extreme Reforming side — there were people who would not accept the Prayer Book. These latter became known as Puritans, and you will hear more about them in the reign of Charles I. The great difficulty was concerning the surplice. In 1563 the Thirty-nine Articles had been drawn up. In 157 1 some varieties in the copies of the Articles were Surplice settled. The Articles themselves formed no stumbling-block, and were not challenged by the Puritan party. In them Reformers of all shades seem to have agreed, and only to those which dealt with doctrine 1603] THE SURPLICE QUESTION 225 was subscription required. The struggle touched matters of order and discipline, and mainly raged round a vest ment, and this vestment a white linen garment. It was a grievous pity that so small a matter should have been allowed to cause so great a trouble, and, it is well to remember that Reformers took this view. No one could doubt the Protestantism of Knox, Beza, and Bullinger. John Knox was the sturdy Scotch Reformer who never feared the face of man. Beza was then the acknowledged leader of the Calvinist party. Bullinger was the advocate of Zwinglian views. Yet these three men expressed their disapproval of those who made the surplice a reason for secession. Unfortunately there was stiffness on both sides ; the Queen had tampered with the Prayer Book, but she was a disciplinarian, and disliked the idea of Nonconformity. The Puritan party showed little of the spirit of conciliation. The result was that severe measures were taken against Nonconformists and Separatists, Puritan as well as Roman. The seeds were sown of a religious discord, which wrought much mischief later on ; but, at the time of which we write, tenderness and patience were not in fashion. Fine and imprisonment were the weapons usually employed against the Separatists — deprivation was the penalty for Nonconformity. The position in which the bishops found themselves was a hard one. They had a difficult task before them, and it was rendered more difficult by the unyielding TheQueen temper which existed on all sides. They were, and the moreover, all new men. Two things had ls ops' happened which had practically emptied every bishopric in England. There were, in the first place, fifteen bishops who would not acknowledge the Queen's supremacy. These were deprived of their sees. The plague also had appeared, and between the years 1557-1559 as many as ten bishops died, most of them from plague. It has Q 226 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [1570- sometimes been said that shortly after Elizabeth's acces sion to the throne episcopacy had thus absolutely died out. This is not the case. There were still six or seven bishops, though only one of these was in possession of his see. These were ready to consecrate men to the vacant sees. The archbishopric of Canterbury was vacant, Reginald Pole having died about the same time as Queen Mary. A wise and capable man, Matthew Parker, was nominated, and on December 17th, 1559, he was conse crated, in Lambeth Chapel, by four bishops, viz. Bishop Barlow, of Bath and Wells ; Bishop Coverdale, of Exeter ; Bishop Scory, of Chichester; and Hodgkins, Bishop Suffragan of Bedford. It is well to note this, as a silly story was started forty years later that Parker's consecra tion had taken place at a tavern in Cheapside. This story, called the "Nag's Head Fable," gained currency among ignorant people, and was repeated by some Roman con troversialists, but is now admitted to be a fiction. Owing to the number of vacancies the Queen was able to appoint as bishops men in whom she had confidence, but she found that they were not disposed simply to be echoes of her wishes. They desired to pursue a policy more conciliatory in matters of order than the Queen approved. The difference between them and the Queen was this. In matters of doctrine the Queen disliked definition ; in matters of order she insisted on uniformity. She did not care what a man's opinions were, but she would have him obey the law. The bishops, on the other hand, felt that matters of doctrine were more important than matters of ritual or order. The consequence was that the Queen opposed the bishops when they wished to enforce sub scription to the Articles of Religion, but she chided the bishops as slack of hand because they did not enforce conformity, while with curious or prudent inconsistency she declined to support the authority of the bishops by i6o3] THE QUEEN AND BISHOPS 227 the needful legal powers. Thus the bishops were placed in an ambiguous position. " I utterly despair," said Arch bishop Parker, "as of myself. Can it be thought that I alone, having sun and moon against me, can compass this difficulty?" But the Queen was resolved to put down Nonconformity. She blamed the bishops. "The fault is in you," she said. In 1573 she took strong measures; she threw upon the bishops the invidious task of aiding in searching for Nonconformists. Intrigue, moreover, was busy, and Archbishop Parker lost favour at court. He had long suffered from disease, and as he felt his strength failing he wrote a plain Death of and courageous letter to the Queen, and having Archbishop delivered his soul he died on May 17th, 1575. ar er' IS7S' His name is to be remembered as the archbishop whose cautious and candid judgment, allied with an earnest disposition, was of great value in a time when difficulties beset both the government and the Church of this land. He had a wide mind ; he realised that little things were but little things, but he realised also that order was in dispensable in every society. He cared little for cap, tippet, or surplice in themselves, but he cared much for the laws established. He was succeeded by Grindal, who fell under the Queen's displeasure because he encouraged what were called prophesyings. These were simply re- Archbishop ligious conferences of the clergy, from which Grindal, the laity were not excluded. Though liable to IS7 ~'5 3" abuse they were of great value when properly ordered, for they encouraged the study of the Bible and the practice of expounding it. In this way the clergy gained skill in preaching, and a more exact knowledge of their Bibles. But the Queen thought these meetings irregular, and ordered Grindal to suppress them. Grindal replied, "I choose rather to offend your earthly majesty than the 228 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [1570- heavenly majesty of God." The Archbishop was suspended from his office, and his suspension lasted nearly five years. At length the censure was removed, but blindness and age had fallen upon him. He was preparing to resign when he died, and was succeeded by Archbishop Whitgift. Meanwhile the power of Puritanism had increased; the strenuous measures taken by Elizabeth had not- attained Persecution their object. Bishops in Mary's reign had of the been associated in the minds of the people with the burnings of Smithfield and elsewhere, under Elizabeth's they were made instruments in the searching for and ill-treatment of Nonconformists, and this had not increased their popularity. Distrust of episcopacy had expressed itself vigorously as far back as the reign of Henry VIII. Henry Stalybridge, a quaint and vigorous writer, had then complained that the " bishoppes of Englande" (a very few excepted) "had tyrannously handled the Kynge's true subjects." The remembrance of this tyrannous handling was kept alive by the fires of Mary's reign and the enforced inquisitions of Elizabeth's reign. In this way a certain dislike or distrust of episcopacy allied itself with the spirit of Nonconformity, and the Puritan party became largely Presbyterian in, sentiment, i.e. they inclined to a form of Church government in which there were no bishops. Unfortunately the Queen, notwith standing the solemn entreaties of John Foxe, allowed the flame to be lighted again. Seventeen years had passed since the burnings which revolted the consciences and hearts of Englishmen. Now the same cruelty began again. There was a body of men, few in number, who went by the name of Anabaptists. In some cases they held doubtful views on the doctrine of the Trinity, but their teaching was mainly anti-social. They held that oaths were unlawful, that magistrates had no right to punish people, since laws, in their view, were not binding, and they i6o3] THE ANABAPTISTS 229 denied the rights of property. They were persecuted in all European countries. Many had suffered in Henry's reign. In England their views were perhaps more theo retical than practical. Two of these Anabaptists were burnt at Smithfield, to the shame of the sovereign, who could not plead the vehement bigotry of superstition which instigated her sister's cruelty, and who refused to modify the sentence. To Elizabeth, however, discipline and order counted for much. She would have none disregard her authority. In Whitgift the Queen found a Primate who was ready to proceed with vigour against Nonconformists. An Ecclesiastical Commission, or court of inquiry, Archbishop had been established in 1559. It was now whitgift, strengthened and became more active. Its IS 3_l6°4- chief duty was to deal with Nonconformity. Articles of accusation, twenty-four in number, were drawn up. Those who were brought before the Commission were expected to prove their innocence on these twenty-four points. Thus the process of law was inverted ; the accusers were not called upon to prove their charges, but the accused Was compelled to free himself from suspicion. Burleigh, " the Queen's chief minister and adviser, regarded, and rightly regarded, such methods as " scarcely charitable " ; but the Archbishop, knowing that he had the support of the Queen, paid little heed to criticism. The judges, in conducting cases, acted sometimes more as prosecutors than judges. Conspicuous among them was a judge named Anderson. " I would to God," said a historian of the time, " that they who judge the religious cause would get some more know ledge in religion and God's word than my Lord Anderson hath." The rigorous and inexorable policy pursued by the Queen at this period provoked indignation. It is true that the libels which issued from the press were many and offen sive in the extreme, but violent methods provoked reaction, 230 Conflict and Victory r_i#d- and leading statesmen showed sympatjjry_with,the Puritans; moreover, exasperated men only^enounceof1 more fiercely a system which appeared in partnership with oppression. The bishops came in for abuse ; but the very violence of these attacks alienated after a time public sympathy. Englishmen did not believe that the clergy in Convoca tion were "a crew of monstrous and ungodly wretches," "horned monsters," "an anti-Christian, swinish rabble," '' enemies of the gospel." They knew that the bishops were not justly to be called "incarnate devils," "bishops of the devil," "cogging, cozening knaves." They saw no advantage in abusing the Archbishop of Canterbury as "Beelzebub," "Caiaphas," and "Esau," or describing the clergy as "wolves," "foxes," "simoniacs," and "proctors of Antichrist." Another difficulty arose from the action of one section of the clergy which disliked the religious settle- SocietiesT ment. They formed what was practically a fresh organisation within the Church. This organisation judged of the fitness of candidates for ordina tion, and even admitted them to the ministry. In fact, these " societies " usurped functions of government, and made laws independent of and at variance with the laws of the realm. Thus there were clergy who acknowledged an authority which was neither that of the bishops nor of the Crown. Such societies are at all times mischievous, for no Church or nation can tolerate the existence of inde pendent bodies whose object appears to be to neutralise or override existing and recognised laws. There were thus many difficulties in the pathway of those who were responsible for the peace of the Church. The autocratic temper of the sovereign, the Church • Difficulties, violent character of some of the Separatists and Nonconformists, the confusion of thought which prevailed at a time of transition, the intrigues which r6o3] RICHARD HOOKER 231 were carried on by worldly people who hoped to win something from the difficulties of the Church, were as so "many pitfalls in the road." Controversy also raged. Theorists of all sorts arose. There were Predestinarians, whose views sometimes resembled fatalism, for they taught that only a select few could be saved. They turned Christianity into a system of favouritism, as though an apostle had never said, " In every nation he that feareth God and worketh righteousness is accepted' with Him" (Acts x. 35). There were Separatists, like the Brownists, who denounced the Church root and branch. There were Nonconformists like Thomas Cartwright who attacked the existing form of Church government. In his view every form of Church government was unlawful which could not show verbal Bible sanction. There must be chapter and verse as authority for every detail of Church order. On this principle he assailed episcopacy. "There never was a time," says Camden, "when the discipline of the Church was run down with such a saucy pertness." In the midst of these fierce attacks and strange con fusions a voice was heard which spoke with such a calm and judicial impartiality, and with such majestic Richar(i and commanding eloquence, that all the world Hooker, realised that a master had spoken. This was ISS4_I °° the voice of one known as Master Richard Hooker, com monly called, because of his candour and temperate- ness, the " judicious " Hooker. He never overstated his case ; he based his arguments not upon precarious or arbitrary theories, but upon reason and order ; he appealed to principles which even his opponents would allow ; he showed the unworkable character of the theories of Church government advanced by men like Cartwright. His was a large and noble range of thought. Besides the witness of history and of Scripture he claimed the witness of Natural Law. Not only what could show precedent in 232 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [1570- Scripture or history was permissible, whatever harmoni ously expressed man's deepest religious feelings was also His allowable. His book, entitled Of the Laws of " Ecclesiastical Ecclesiastical Polity, is perhaps the greatest Polity, 1594. book which any English divine has produced. It may safely be said that he who wishes to understand the position of the Church of England must read that book, and that whenever a man finds himself differing from Hooker he will in all human probability be differing from the Church of England. He is the typical English divine, who comprehended, as few in our days can com prehend, that the Church of England is Protestant because it is Catholic, and Catholic because it is Protestant. There were many blemishes in Elizabeth's reign. The Nonconformists, Roman and Reformed, were treated with harshness, and at times with inexcusable Summary cruelty. Unjust suspicions frequently haunted the footsteps and embittered the lives of many loyal-hearted Englishmen. But it was an age in which men thought much of discipline and order. The principles of national liberty were but dimly understood. The idea of individual liberty was to be realised by a later generation. In Elizabeth's day it was felt that if national freedom was to be preserved the authority of the throne must be main tained. Unity at home was the safeguard of this freedom. This was the truth which the nation firmly grasped, but they had not yet reached the further truth that religious toleration is needful for national concord, and that the possession of individual liberty promotes loyalty. The balance between order and freedom, so hard at all times to adjust, was especially difficult to maintain in a time of intrigue and danger. But notwithstanding drawbacks, and even severities, the people were warmly attached to their Queen. Her personality and her courage attracted them, her passionate love of England ensured their confidence. i6o3] THE WORTHIES OF THE AGE 233 They realised that their national independence was bound up with her life. Beneath her sway England rose to high rank among the nations of Europe. English seamen swept the seas, explored far-off continents, and became famous all the world over. Tales of countries beyond the sea excited their imagination, and England found that she had hands which could reach far and grasp firm hold of distant lands. The horizon of Englishmen's thoughts was enlarged. The spirit of adventure awoke in many hearts. With her widening vision England found her voice, and made it heard in various tones. Edmund ijsz-i^. Spenser, the stately troubadour of the reign, roused the ambition of a noble chivalry in life : every Englishman saw that the knighthood of high purpose, blame less character, and worthy deeds was within his reach. Shakespeare followed, and gave fresh f^^g'"8' enchantment to existence. Nature's child, with consummate art and unrivalled sweetness he interpreted men to themselves : a true son of England, he expressed in unforgettable language the pride of patriotism which marked his age. Marlowe presented to applauding audiences pictures of the spirit of bandit courage in which adventurous England then delighted. Ben Jonson, while describing the humours and fashions of the time, taught Englishmen some noble lessons. Thus the spirit of enter prise, an innocent delight in pageant and pomp, a high and chivalrous patriotism, a faith in England and a resolution to preserve her freedom filled the minds of men. „, „ The Queen. Noble deeds and noble words followed the en nobled thoughts of men, and after-generations look back upon the forty years of Elizabeth as the great reign of a great Queen. Her vanity and her folly were forgotten, and even her meanness was forgiven ; for, with all her faults, she had loved her people well, and she had helped to make them great. She had greatly desired her people's love, and 234 CONFLICT AND VICTORY [iS7o-i6o3 bravely she had won it. Their cause and her cause were never sundered. The Queen and nation had gone through perilous times together. Danger had tried her, and shown her to be unconquerably courageous and unchangeably English. So her reign was spoken of as a glorious reign, and long afterwards people loved to talk of the days of good Queen Bess. With the death of Elizabeth the last of the Tudor sovereigns passed away, and the sceptre went into the hand of monarchs who had all the self-will, but none of the robust vigour, good sense, and stalwart self-reliance of their predecessors. With one exception, that of Queen Mary, whose nature was Spanish, the Tudors were English-hearted sovereigns, gifted with practical sagacity and high courage. If they were arbitrary, as at times they were, they had a royal impressiveness of character, which seemed to confer upon them the right to insist upon their own will. Men acquiesced, not always out of servility, but out of self-distrust, and out of a confidence that these strong rulers knew what they were about. The Stuarts were ready to claim as much royal authority, but they lacked the strong ruling qualities which seemed to justify the Tudors. Where the Tudors were English the Stuarts were foreign. The Tudors sought practical ends ; the Stuarts were enamoured of exaggerated theories. The Tudors found safety in their undaunted courage ; the Stuarts found theirs in policy and craft. CHAPTER XXII. JAMES I. a.d. i6o3-i6o5 The reign of Elizabeth had been long enough to make a great change in the thoughts and feelings of Englishmen. For forty years the Prayer Book had been in change of use, and a new generation had sprung up who Religious had been accustomed to it from childhood. P'mon' Further, the power of Rome in the country had been con spicuously lessened. National feeling was against Roman ism. The very name of the Pope was associated with the attempt to violate the shores of England and to bring the people under a foreign yoke. The result was that the centre of gravity of English national life had shifted. Whereas at the beginning of the reign the Queen had to be cautious because of the strength of the Roman party, at the close of the reign the centre of gravity was much farther from Rome. The Church of England was decidedly anti-Roman, and the Puritan party were opposed to everything which in their judgment carried even the taint or resemblance of Roman approval. Thus, while at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign the two strong rival parties were the Roman and -the anti-Roman parties, in the beginning of James I.'s reign the rivalry was between the Church and the Puritan party. It is amusing to read how these rival parties were both anxious to secure the ear of the new monarch. There was 235 236 JAMES I. [1603- almost a race between their representatives to get the first interview with the King. He came from Presbyterian Church and Scotland, and the Puritans hoped for his favour. Puritan James I. must have enjoyed himself much, for he prided himself on being a theologian, and it was a real pleasure to him to preside over a religious con ference. He could then, from the safe height of his position, display what seemed like wit when it fell from royal lips. When the deputations reached him he would not commit himself to any statement of policy, but it soon became clear that he was no friend to violent change. To him, as to Elizabeth, conformity savoured of loyalty, non-conformity of disloyalty. He would uphold the laws, but he would have no bloodshed. He was willing, more over, to give the question a hearing. King James was not a dignified person : his appearance did not inspire respect ; his head was disproportionately large, and his legs disproportionately thin ; he liked to talk, but he slobbered as he did so. He had some learning and little judgment ; an in ordinate love of theories and some shrewdness, but little practical wisdom ; he had exaggerated notions of kingly authority, and little reserve of speech. A few months after the King's accession he resolved to hold a conference. This, from the place where it was held, was known as Hampton the Hampton Court Conference. The Church Court Con- divines were fully represented, but the Puritans e' * °4' were represented by only four divines, and those nominated by the King. The King presided, and the Church divines, feeling sure of his support, were obsequious and servile, even showing at times by their flatteries how soon servility may degenerate into profane- ness. The voice of the King championing the cause of the Church was to them the voice of a god. " Doubtless," said Archbishop Whitgift, " your Majesty speaks by the 1605] HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE 237 special assistance of God's Spirit." The King allowed his pedantry and jocularity to lead him to forget the courtesy which is the shield of monarchs. He expressed himself contemptuously towards the Puritan divines, who were ridiculed and " laughed to scorn, without either wit or good manners." The behaviour of the King at this conference is a matter of regret. But, on the other hand, the Puritan divines made too much of trifles. Most of the subjects on which opinions were divided were matters of such little moment that one wonders that earnest men should have thought them worth debating. On matters of importance there was little real difference of opinion. It was agreed that attention should be paid to the observance of Sunday, and that it was desirable that the translation of the Bible should be revised. The Puritans wished that some strongly-worded declarations on the doctrine of Predestination, known as the Lambeth Articles,* Articles which had in 1596 received the sanction of proposed several bishops, should be inserted among the Articles of Religion. These were the Calvinistic Articles which Queen Elizabeth had so much disliked. They were objectionable ; for they went far beyond Bible teaching, and undermined the very conception of divine righteous ness. They taught that there was a fixed number of human beings predestinated to salvation and a fixed number to reprobation, and that salvation, therefore, is not for all. The words of the apostle that " God is the Saviour of all men," and, again, that " God will have all men to be saved" were entirely ignored. For the rest the subjects under discussion were trifling, being small matters of words, forms, and ceremonies. For instance, the Church of England article declared "The Bishop of Rome hath no authority." The Puritans wished that it should be further declared that he * Drawn up to settle a Calvinistic dispute at Cambridge. 238 JAMES I. [1603- ought to have none. The reply was that the declaration that he had no authority implied that he ought to have none. Confirmation was objected to : it was replied that confirmation was primitive. The Puritans wished to diminish lay influence ; they objected to ecclesiastical censures being pronounced by lay chancellors. The King perceived the drift of these objections. He knew to what arbitrary lengths unguarded ecclesiastical power had gone in Scotland, and he was not going to give undue power to ecclesiastical assemblies pure and simple. The Puritans were wishful to remain within the National Church, but objected to the sign of the cross in baptism, the ring in marriage, the churching service, and to the wearing of the surplice, which was described as "a garment worn by the priests of Isis." The King and the Church were drawn more closely together by this conference. It suited James I. to patronise the Church. The bishops, on the other side, were exultant that the King sided with them ; they extolled his virtues and his powers above measure. They were ready to teach the doctrine of passive obedience, and to preach in an exaggerated and untrue sense the divine origin and authority of government. To criticise or to impugn the action of the King was a sort of desecration. To deny the divine right of kings was treason to the State : to deny the divine authority of episcopacy was treason to the Church. Without monarch there was no State: with out bishops no Church. The King, however, made one fatal mistake in perception ; he persisted in the belief that the whole Puritan party in England were Presbyterian in their views of Church government, his experience led him to regard Presbyterianism as a power hostile to monarchy ; episcopacy, on the other hand, he regarded as a friendly force. "No bishop, no king!" was his thought. Thus, confounding the teaching of English Puritanism with Pres byterianism, he viewed it with dislike and fear. 1605] CHURCH GOVERNMENT 239 Extravagant claims on behalf of particular forms of government, either in Church or State, onljr'lerve^ to provoke hostile criticism. Systems and forms must be tested by experience. Their best about Forms vindication is their fitness to fulfil their end. of Govern- The Church is a divine institution in the sense that it was founded by Christ, and that it exists for a divine purpose, viz., to bring men into conformity with the divine will; but in another sense it is a human society, and it is left to human wisdom to adapt its forms from time to time so as to render the institution fitter for its work. The form is always less than the purpose. The wayward spirit, however, which changes every existing form for the sake of change, is as reprehensible as the inflexible spirit which rigidly adheres to existing forms because they are old. The great divines of Elizabeth's day escaped, as a rule, these two extremes. They were content to defend their policy on the ground that what had been tried should be continued, unless it should be proved contrary to some Scripture principle. Episcopacy, they said, is primitive and lawful. The divines of a later pl y- period, goaded by the foolish and extravagant denunciations of Puritans, began to affirm that Episcopacy was essential to the existence of a Church, and that those Christian bodies which lacked an episcopal form of government were not and could not be Churches of Christ. The older and wiser divines pleaded with more charity and prudence that Episcopacy was needful for the well-being of the Church ; the later and rasher teachers affirmed that it was necessary to the very being of a Church. You will see that antagonism about small matters drove the contending parties into extreme and extravagant views. The one side looked upon Episcopacy as an anti-Christian institution ; the other declared that it was divine and indispensable to the vitality of the Church. But it is 240 JAMES I. [1603- well for us to look into these matters for ourselves, and you will find that though among the teachers of the English Church there were some divines who made extravagant claims for an episcopal form of govern ment, the bulk of her more sober and cautious-minded theologians, in spite of much provocation and misrepre sentation, adhered to the more moderate and reasonable view. I do not wish to trouble you with names which may convey but little meaning to you, but the more moderate view was approved by Jewel and Hooker, by Cosin and Leighton, as well as by Archbishops Parker, Grindal, and Whitgift. The influence of these and other like-minded men preserved the Church of England from committing herself to harsh and exclusive statements. Events, moreover, hastened the development of ex aggerated theories of kingly power. You will see illus trations of this as you follow some of the questions debated during the early years of James I. After the Conference at Hampton Court it was thought well that the Church of England should possess certain rules. In order to gain true and complete authority for such rules, certain conditions were necessary. The Church would not accept rules which were not approved by Convocation ; but, on the other hand, Convocation could not make rules without the permission of the Crown. There has often been, as you have seen in the past history, a sort of jealousy between the authority of the State and of the Church; and as we are drawing near to the story of a time when this jealousy showed itself again with strength, it is well that we should give a little thought to what is called the relations of Church and State. In the early days of Christianity there was no jealousy, because the infant churches in different places stat"han were t0° weak and too insignificant for states men to consider ; but when Christianity spread i6o5] CHURCH AND STATE 241 and became powerful the Church became a force, and emperors began to conciliate her, as they wished to be supported by the Christian people. Sometimes the Church was oppressed and persecuted by the State; some times she tyrannised -over the State. At length the Bishops of Rome gained so much power that they be came little short of the tyrants of Europe. Kings, who liked to be masters in their own realms, found it needful to restrain the power of the Church, because the power of the Church meant the power of the Pope, that is, of a foreigner. In England, however, the interests of the Church, though they were sometimes allied with the in terests of the Pope, were also intensely national. The Church had grown as Christianity spread in the country ; it was closely entwined with the national life — indeed, it was in one sense the nurse of national life. Every English man felt that the Church was his : he belonged to it, and it belonged to him. He was not going to allow any foreigner, whether Bishop or King, to dictate to him or to rob him of the Church which was his heritage. He would have his Church free to fulfil its mission, but he would not allow it to become an engine of tyranny. These ideas took long to ripen, and in the struggle, through which men's ideas grew clear, sometimes the Church was the creature of the King, some- Two times of the Pope; but at last two great prin- Principles ciples began to govern men's minds. The accep people wished to maintain their religion, and they would not jeopardise their freedom. The Church, therefore, should express for the people of the country the national faith. To do this it must be free, and not used as an engine of oppression, whether ecclesiastical or civil. Therefore, though it must always guide people in their Christian duties, it must not make laws except under the vigilant safeguard of the nation itself. Hence Convocation, that is, 242 JAMES I. 1603- the assemblies of the clergy, could not make laws or canons except under the permission of the Crown. Thus when it was proposed to issue new laws or canons of the Church in King James's day, a royal licence was given to Convocation to do so. But England was divided into two provinces, Canterbury and York, and each province had its Convocation. Therefore, before the canons were lawful, all these authorities — the Crown, the Canterbury Convocation, and the York Convocation — must agree. Of course the Canterbury Convocation, representing the larger number of the clergy and having the Primate of all England as its President, was a much more important body than that of York, but York claimed and possessed equal rights and independent action. The Convocation of Canterbury met in 1603. The Thirty-nine Articles were again acknowledged ; and after some weeks of work and debate a body of Convocationand the canons, or rules for the Church, was agreed Canons of upon. These canons, which are printed at the end of some Prayer Books, express what was at the time the authoritative judgment of the Church of England. They were passed by the Convocation of Canterbury, and agreed to by the Convocation of York ; and they were published for the "due observation of them" by the King's authority under the great seal of England. They are binding on the clergy ; some of them, indeed, are now obsolete, or have been modified by subsequent legislation, but generally speaking they form the guiding rules for the conduct of divine service. They have many features of interest. They censure those who im pugn the Church of England, in her worship, articles, or ceremonies. They prescribe the vestments to be worn by the clergy in their ministrations ; they give the form of prayer to be used before sermons. This form is called the Bidding Prayer, and it is still used— though sometimes in a 1605] THE CANONS OF 1603 243 modified form — in our Universities and other places. It is interesting to find that in this prayer the Scottish Church, which, as you know, did not accept an episcopal form of government, is recognised as a sister Church, and the people are exhorted, in their prayers especially, to remember the Churches of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Further, Christ's Holy Catholic Church is defined as the whole congregation of Christian people dispersed throughout the world. Thus, though these canons expressed a rigorous disapproval of Nonconformity, they yet recognised the right of other Christian countries to express their Christian faiths in different forms. Unfortunately, a determination was made which put the consciences of men to a further strain. Many men were quite content to accept the Prayer Book, al- ,. ^ r J More ngor- though it was not altogether what they had ous subscrip- hoped or wished. They believed the doctrines ; tI0n 'nslsted they accepted the form of Church government ; they were willing to acquiesce in the rites and ceremonies it enjoined, but they were averse from expressing a decided approval of them. But now they were called upon not meekly to assent, but to declare that they subscribed willingly and ex animo. There appeared, in this require ment, to be a determination to insist upon an approval wider than that which had previously been insisted upon. One Puritan complained that he had signed already four times, but that the new requirement demanded more, and demanded it with a fresh purpose. Subscription was, however, strictly enforced. Archbishop Bancroft pressed the matter forward. Some hundreds of clergymen were deprived or resigned. The strict policy won a surface success. "Nonconformity grew out of fashion in a less time than could easily be imagined. Thereupon followed a great alteration in the face of religion." Churches were beautified and repaired, the liturgy more solemnly rendered, 244 JAMES I. [1603- fasts and festivals observed, copes brought into use, and the surplice generally worn. But, notwithstanding this apparent peace, trouble was near. The Church authorities soon came into collision with the law officers. The judges of the land have always been jealous of the authority of the law ; and they Bishops3" would never suffer ecclesiastical courts or eccle siastical personages to settle matters which belonged to the jurisdiction of the ordinary courts of the realm. This was natural enough. The judges represent the law of the land, and no country can allow any body of men or any society, however venerable or excellent, to set up a jurisdiction in rivalry to, or outside of the ordinary law. Thus there has been a certain jealous vigilance lest some ecclesiastical courts should judge matters which strictly belong to the civil judges. The Court of High Commission, which had dealt with ecclesiastical matters, had often acted in a high-handed way, and had adopted a method of procedure which about the tended to frustrate justice. The ecclesiastical Source of courts did not win a reputation for judicial im partiality, and the judges regarded their actions and their claims with suspicion. A nice constitutional point was raised. It was contended that the King was the source of civil power and justice, and that therefore the King could determine how every case was to be tried. The judges were only his delegates, and could onlytf^'the causes which he permitted. This question was one of importance, and as civil freedom depended on the answer, the danger of a mistaken answer was no unreal one. The King's views were made known. " As it is atheism and blasphemy to dispute what God can do, so it is presumption and a high contempt in a subject to dispute what a king can do, or to say that a king cannot do this or that." There were not wanting flattering men to advocate principles i6oS] THE CROWN AND THE LAW 245 which pleased the King. Dr. Cowell, a lecturer at Cam bridge, published a book in which he maintained that the King was bound by no law, and could quash any law made by Parliament. Men felt that their liberty was in peril. This argument pleased the King, and it suited the Archbishops to approve of it, as it limited the judges' power to interfere with the ecclesiastical courts. Mistake But apparent advantages often conceal real of the dangers ; and this argument, had it been urc ' allowed, would have imperilled the liberties of England. The Church authorities were too ready to swallow the bait ; in doing so they put themselves on the side of arbitrary power. The judges had clearer insight, and they had also the courage to deny a doctrine which meant servitude. The law of the land rightly understood is the safeguard of liberty. The independence of judges is the safeguard of the law. The theory in England has been that the Crown itself is subject to the law, and that if the Crown has a difference with one of its own subjects, it must appear before the judges and plead its own cause; and the judge, free to do right without respect of persons, has authority to interpret the law even against the Crown. In fact, the Crown exists to protect the law, and therefore should be foremost in showing respect for law. This truth is expressed in our National Anthem, when we pray — ' ' May she defend our laws, And ever give us cause To sing with heart and voice, God save the Queen." The judges, and conspicuously Sir Edward Coke, refused to accept the evil doctrine that the judges were but delegates of the King.. They claimed to be guardians of the law, and as long as they were such they could not suffer Church officers to interpret the law. These latter must accept the interpretation of the 246 JAMES I. [1603-1605 law from the authorised guardians of the law, i.e. from the judges. The ecclesiastical courts were bound by the law as laid down by the judges. The power of the ecclesiasti cal courts was limited to matters of heresy. You see that a great constitutional question was raised. Was the King an absolute monarch, or was he to govern according to law? If the judges were his delegates and he could determine the limits of their prerogatives, then the King was practically above the law. When Parliament met, it soon showed that it was not likely to abdicate its powers. Many members shared Action of witn tne judges a suspicion of the ecclesiasti- Pariiament, cal courts, and showed some sympathy with the deprived clergy. They were resolved to declare their own rights. Unhappily the Church passed some canons which, though intended to support the King's authority against papal usurpation and papal intrigues, were in principle declarations in favour of the arbitrary power of princes. Churchmen saw in the King the safeguard of ecclesiastical and national order; they had not grasped the meaning of civil and religious liberty. Things were changing : other questions were coming to the front. The struggle between absolute monarchy and constitutional monarchy was about to begin. Voices began to speak of these. Parliament was aroused. Both Houses took action ; and Dr. Cowell was imprisoned and his work suppressed. Thus Parliament expressed its view on the question. The King, finding that the temper of Parliament was not what he had hoped, dissolved it, and in this way spread dissatisfaction and suspicion throughout the coun try. The Church suffered in public esteem from being associated in the public mind with measures which in vaded the rights of Parliament. CHAPTER XXIII. PLOTS AND STRUGGLES A.D. 1605-1625 The King had in his proclamation declared that he was averse from the shedding of blood, but his reign was not free from cruelty, which showed itself, as it did in Elizabeth's reign, both against the Romanist and the Puritan. With regard to the Romanists it must be said that the discovery of plots and intrigues against the King and nation laid them open to suspicion, but the King's promises respecting toleration had not been kept. The Romanist was exposed to fine and peril if he worshipped according to his conscience, and conspiracy is too often the answer which disappointment gives to faithless princes. Accordingly, we read much of Romanist plots, and in reading of these we must try to measure out our censure impartially. It is true the Romanists began to plot before the King could fairly be accused of having broken his promise, for conspiracy was on foot ^'"^ j*™' in the very earliest days of his reign. These plots, however, were the work of irresponsible individuals, and were not favoured by the Jesuit officials. Whether they were encouraged in Rome is not certain ; probably the Papal Court would have been glad to reap a harvest, though it was content that others should sow the seed. In later conspiracies the Jesuits seem to have been more or 247 248 PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [.605- less involved. On finding that the royal promises had not been fulfilled, men grew desperate and exasperated, and at last the spirit of vindictive despair found expression in the famous Gunpowder Plot. The authors of this plot had no personal motives of ambition to serve. They had one aim in view : they The Gun- hoped by one blow to overthrow the power powder Plot, which they regarded as the foe and oppressor 1 °5' of their creed. Doubtless they believed that the cause of what they deemed to be the true religion could be well served by cruel and immoral means. If they did believe this the Society of the Jesuits must bear the blame ; for they had given their sanction to the casuis try which argued that sometimes evil might be done with a good conscience, and taught practically, though perhaps not explicitly, that the end justifies the means. This, it must be admitted, is the tendency of certain ecclesiastical minds in all ages. Some, however, of the conspirators were rudely awakened to the realisation of their fall from moral principles. The plot was discovered. The flatter ing disposition of the age declared the discovery to be a miraculous one, due to God's special inspiration, which enabled "the King's most excellent Majesty to interpret some dark phrases of a letter." Hearing that the plot was known, the conspirators fled, some taking refuge at Holbeche, in Staffordshire. Here an accident occurred. Some gunpowder, which they were drying, exploded owing to the fall of a hot coal. Three or four were badly burnt. The mishap and the pain made them understand the hideousness of the cruelty which they had planned : they saw in the accident a just retribution. The scales fell from their eyes. Their moral sense, laid to sleep by the deadly fascination of fanatical prejudice, awoke. This, however, was not the case with all the conspirators. Some of them went ta death fondly believing themselves to be i6a5] THE JESUITS 249 martyrs in a glorious cause. But the bulk of English men execrated the memory of men who, whatever their grievances, had plotted a wholesale and wanton sacrifice of life, and had planned to overthrow the best safeguards of English liberty. The people were excited, but the House of Commons set a fine example of calmness and dignity. In the midst of panic it quietly discharged its ordinary business, and refusing to be hurried into rash and terror-stricken cruelty, rejected a proposal that some special suffering and punishment should be meted out to the conspirators. Parliament was content that the law should take its course. A special service of thanksgiving for the escape of the King and Parliament was prepared. The official procla mation enjoining the use of this service attributed the plot to the "malignant Papists, principles. Jesuits and Seminary priests." Thus the dis covery of this conspiracy drew public attention to the principles inculcated by the Jesuits. A treatise on "equivocation" was found which authoritatively sanctioned falsehood. A deep moral resentment was felt against a society which, under the guise of religion, was under mining the morals of men. The suspicions with which papists were regarded in Elizabeth's days were now followed by a deep and well-grounded distrust of Jesuitism. People felt justified in refusing credit to the statements of men who advocated lying as a weapon of social warfare. Garnet, the Provincial of the Jesuits in England, was arrested and accused of being privy to the plot. His chances of acquittal were diminished, because it was taken for granted that he used equivocation in his defence, and he was executed. Though the House of Commons maintained a calm demeanour, it was hardly to be expected that no legislation 2SO PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [1605- should take place. The laws against Recusants,* as they were called, were made more severe. Everyone must con form, and give evidence of his conformity by fniorced*7 receiving the Holy Communion in the parish church. We cannot sufficiently condemn such a law. The sacred symbol of redeeming love was thus made the veil of insincerity. The sign of brotherhood was to be taken, not of free-will, but under compulsion. Nothing was more calculated to make the sacrament ab horred; and the passing of such Test Acts is probably responsible for much of the hesitation about taking the Holy Communion which is now so common. When false and insincere men were seen to be ready to approach, it is not wonderful that a habit of distrust was engendered, and that honest men should hang back. The great storm of public indignation fell upon the Romish Recusants, but the other Nonconformists suffered Bartholomew a'so- Conformity was rigidly insisted on, and Legate, even the death penalty was enforced. A man named Bartholomew Legate having pre sumed to read and expound the Bible, was tried in the Ecclesiastical Court, 'condemned as a heretic, and burned at Smithfield. Three weeks later Edward Wightman was burned at Lichfield. Once more men saw the fires kindled which sixty years before had horrified England, and which after forty years of suspension they did not think to see again. These cruelties, though carried out by the civil power, were the result of sentences -pronounced in the spiritual courts. The Church was regarded as largely responsible, and the Primate seemed willing to accept the responsibility. He was eager to secure the condemnation * This term was applied to those who refused to acknowledge the supremacy of the Sovereign, or to conform to the established rites of the Church. The Popish recusant was one who acknowledged the supremacy of the Pope. 1625] CHARACTER OF THE CLERGY 251 of Legate ; and in his criminal zeal he tampered with the selection of the judges. Thus Archbishop Abbot, the chief representative of the Church of England, cannot be acquitted of complicity in these cruel proceedings. We must deplore this, but we must at the same time remember that the principles of toleration were still but imperfectly understood, and that the King was not in advance of his times. The sad truth must be confessed that the Church of Christ had not yet mastered the teaching of Christ. The leaders of the Church of England in James's day were not men of the highest order. Many of them were so eager for preferment that they stooped to The Bisho flattery and even bribery. One bishop wrote in James i.'s that if only he could be given a richer re'Bn- bishopric — Ely, or Bath and Wells — he would spend the rest of his days in writing the history of his patron's good "deeds. Other clergy were ready to pay well for a deanery or a bishopric. The evil spirit of ambition and sycophancy tainted some of the best men. Dr. Donne's name is honoured for a piety of thought which expressed itself with perfect naturalness in literary beauty of form, but even Dr. Donne prostituted his eloquence in servile sup- pliancy, and described himself as " a clod of clay attending what kind of vessel it shall please you (his patron or influential friend) to make of your lordship's humblest, thankfullest, and devotedest servant." There were, how ever, brilliant exceptions. No shadow of covetous ambition dimmed the clear piety of men like Bishop Andrewes, or tarnished the learned reputation of men like Field, or obscured the sturdy integrity of men like Archbishop Abbot, though the court was crowded with ecclesiastics eager for preferment, who flattered the King and fawned upon favourites. They were not content with one living ; preferment was added to preferment; pluralism was not deemed a disgrace. A- rich deanery would be held in 252 PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [1605- addition to a bishopric, and so unabashed was the greed of some that they grumbled if they were not allowed to be thus doubly endowed. The story of the Church in King James's day is not pleasant to read. It was an age in which gross flattery was fashionable. William Drummond eulogised the King in this fashion : — " Oh, virtue's pattern, glory of our times, Sent of past days to expiate the crimes, Great King, but better far than thou art great, Whom state not honours but who honours state ! " Churchmen caught the prevailing tone, and we notice in them the growth of an ecclesiastical temper at once hard and sycophantic. The Bishops felt themselves safe in the protection of the King. The King was the rising sun, and the sun had smiled upon them. Secure in royal patronage they showed an unworthy harshness towards the Nonconformists ; and they exulted in, when they should have deprecated, the unyielding attitude of the King. The hardness thus shown created hardness in their opponents. The members of the House of Commons had strong religious convictions and a keen Wind^4116 sense °f political freedom; but when they gave expression to their views they were flouted and browbeaten. Pedantry is generally dull, and the King was a pedant; arrogance is always short-sighted, and the King was arrogant. He did not read the signs of the times, or realise the needs and temper of his people. The position which he created was certain to end in evil, which indeed came, not in his day, but in that of his son. The House of Commons, in King James's reign, would have been content with small concessions in Church matters. It asked that deprived ministers should be allowed to preach, that the abuse of pluralities and non-residence i6aS] INTOLERANCE OF THE AGE 253 should be restrained, and that the power of excommunica tion should be limited. In King Charles's reign there came a House of Commons which swept away Episcopacy, for bade the observance of Church order, and made penal the use of the Prayer Book. The sad and inexorable fact meets us here, as elsewhere in history, that the victory of extreme men is the ruin of institutions. The refusal of King James to listen to the views of his faithful laymen in the House of Commons, and his resolve to insist on and maintain the hated Ecclesiastical Courts, were the beginning of a conflict which raged with varying fortune for almost eighty years, which saw the execution of one King and the flight of another. Civil war and revolution intervened before the final settlement ushered in the period of national peace. But it was not an age in which toleration was understood. The religious party out of power was urgent about small matters ; the religious party in power was hard Toleration and unyielding. The Government found that notunder- the personal wishes of the King stood in the way of compromise or comprehension. Uniformity, and nothing short of uniformity, would satisfy one who believed that uniformity was the measure of loyalty. Had the Government been wise enough to hold the balance between the religious parties, and endeavour to secure liberty and toleration, while steadily refusing to commit itself to every policy of exclusion, time might have softened asperities. Opponents might have learned to respect one another even though they differed ; a great body of men of undoubted piety, who held principles indispensable to the free develop ment of national life, would have been kept in sympathy with the Church, but the unfortunate policy of harshness taught them to regard her as synonymous with tyranny, and therefore they combined to overthrow her. The King was in frequent conflict not only with the 254 PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [,605- House of Commons, but also with the judges, and the contest became one of constitutional principles : the King represented in the eyes of the people un identified restrained power : the judges and the House w'th of Commons represented popular rights and Absolutism. .. ,,., T constitutional liberty. It was partly the mis fortune and partly the fault of its rulers that the Church was in this struggle identified with the cause of absolutism. Bitter days were before the Church, which, although in earlier days it had shown itself strong to resist the tyran nous aggressions of King and Pope, now misread the times, missed its opportunity, and suffered for its alliance with arbitrary power. But we must remember that few men are wise before the event, and anyone may be wise afterwards. Though Difficulties we wno 1°°^ Dack can understand the change of the which was then coming over English thought, the men who lived at the time hardly realised it. James I. had views of the divine right of kings which would be laughed at now ; but far from seeming ridiculous then, they were generally accepted. Even so wise and sagacious a man as Bacon, though not always liking the King's actions, supported the theories upon which those actions were based. In those days the House of Commons was regarded rather as a help to the adminis trative power of the monarch than as a necessary part of the constitution. To many the House of Commons appeared, at the time, to be a body lacking experience, judgment, and order ; they had a clear sense of its useful ness when it helped the executive, and a deep dread of its becoming the master. The truth is that Englishmen were feeling their way towards free institutions. It is not wonderful that many mistakes were made ; perhaps it was hardly to be expected that the Church leaders, who were strongly impressed with 1625] EXPERIENCE TEACHES 255 the need of order, should be clear-sighted enough to welcome the movements of popular freedom. It is worth noticing that these early stages of the consti- Men tutional struggles were associated with the groping determination of the judges to claim, as far as thelr way' they could, the supremacy of the law. Often and often in the struggle the question in debate was this : " Is the King above the law, or must he act according to law ? " It was only slowly realised that the majesty of law is the true majesty of kings ; the King is most kinglike when his voice is not that of self-will, of arbitrary power, or of isolated wisdom, but of a nation speaking after due deliber ation. This truth touches many questions. It was not then understood that true government is true self-expression. The early Church knew something of this ; the later Church lost sight of it. The lesson is not yet fully learned, either by nations or by churches. Can we wonder that the bishops of James's day blundered ? I have dwelt upon this aspect of affairs because we are approaching a great constitutional struggle, and it is need ful for you to remember that the great religious forces and the great political forces at work in currents^ the history of our country sometimes mingle and sometimes divide. The final result was the outcome of the ebb and flow of the great tide of public feeling ; but this tide carried in its bosom many conflicting currents- which sometimes opposed, sometimes supported one another, and which sometimes worked with and sometimes against the great moving tide. We must not imagine that the Church was always on one side ; though sometimes drawn by the instinct of self-preservation to the side of power, as a rule she reflected in herself the conflicts of the nation. Though she lost by blunders the support of a strong and vigorous section of society, she drew to herself men of divergent schools of thought. There arose within 256 PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [1605- her bosom religious leaders who were destined to present to the people a sober ideal which was as far removed from the anarchy of individualism as it was from the tyranny of Roman Catholicism. They were Catholic Protestants and Protestant Catholics, who sought to ground men's faith on primitive truth and natural order. These men were not conspicuous in James's day, but their fore runner was seen in Lancelot Andrewes (1555-1625), who in difficult times was a worthy representative of that type of bishop which Englishmen have always honoured — a man in whom deep learning was conjoined with conspicuous piety, and whose zeal against foreign usurpation was tempered by respect for antiquity and a love of order. He was by far the best specimen of the bench in King James's day. His name survives ; the fragrance of his piety has kept it alive. His Devotions, which are still printed, have been a strength and comfort to thousands. A copy, marked and annotated as a much-used companion, was found after his death among the private books of Archbishop Tait. The thoughts of the divine of the seventeenth century were strength to the Primate of the nineteenth. Men's concep tions may change, but piety is never out of date, and when linked with learning it never grows stale. You must not, however, think too badly of the Church in King James's day, or imagine that little good was done. One work was achieved then which was enough workoTthe t0 make any reiSn famous. This was the trans- reign: the lation of the Bible, which gave to us what is T/t°sltt.l°,ns known as the Authorised Version. Towards the of the Bible. end of the fourteenth century, Wycliffe s trans lation of the Bible was making its way ; but for more than a century progress was checked by persecution. In the sixteeenth century, however, men became deeply interested in the Bible, and within the space of fifteen or sixteen years as many as five English versions appeared. In 1526 i62S] TRANSLATIONS OF THE BIBLE 257 came Tyndale's New Testament; in 1535 Coverdale's Bible ; in 1537 Matthew's Bible, which was compiled from Tyndale's and Coverdale's, by John Rogers, who assumed the name of Matthew. Tavemer's Bible, which did not differ greatly from Matthew's Bible, appeared in 1539, and in the following year ^540) there was issued the Bible known as Cranmer's, or the Great Bible. Thus by degrees the Bible became circulated among the English people ; but as many people were not able to read, the mere circulation of printed Bibles was not _. „.,., . r The Bible enough. This difficulty was met by placing a becomes the Bible in the churches, and allowing those who pf°Ple's could to read it aloud to the people. Crowds used to gather to listen to its wonderful words. We, who know the stories of Joseph and Joshua, of Samson and David, who have learned by heart the great prophecies of Isaiah and Malachi, who have heard the parables of Christ from our childhood, can hardly understand the joy with which the multitudes gathered to hear these touching tales and stirring appeals for the first time. It was like the opening of a new world to them. They had not, as we have, newspapers and periodicals, magazines and reviews, and books so cheap and so plentiful that we are tempted to neglect or misuse them. Thefe was then little or no literature for the people. The Bible became the people's literature ; its stories were their stories ; they heard in their own tongue the wonderful works of God. The language and the spirit of the Bible passed into the hearts and broke forth from the lips of the people. In 1560 a new impetus was given to the study of the Scriptures : the Geneva Bible came out smaller in size and more fitted for personal use, and it became the home Bible of the people. Hence forward, not in churches only, but in private dwellings people could hear the Bible read. In 1568 the Bishops' Bible, prepared under the superintendence of Archbishop 258 PLOTS AND STRUGGLES [ifoj- Parker, by scholars the majority of whom were bishops, was issued. For nearly forty years there were no other versions. Then, after some four or five years' labour, there appeared Authorised the great work of King James's reign, the Version, Authorised Version, which since that date (1611) has been practically the Bible of the English people. The version known as the Revised Version you will hear about later, but for well-nigh 300 years the Bible of 16 n has held its own. Its language helped to form English speech. Its teaching was spread far and wide wherever the English race went or Its Influence , ,. , , the English tongue was spoken. Its noble eloquence, its vivid pictures, and its touching and beauti ful stories, have sunk deep into English memories, and have gone far to fashion English character. We can never be too grateful to those men who spent their time in giving us this great national inheritance. Its words have become mottoes for our great cities and their institu tions. They are Bible words which meet the eye of the visitor to the city of London when he sees the Royal Exchange from the end of Cheapside. Bible phrases are embedded in our literature, and Bible allusions are sprinkled throughout our current speech. But more than this, the great ideas of the Bible, — the kingly and righteous rule of God, His- fatherly care, His expectation of moral responsiveness in His Charl?ternal children. the seriousness of life, the weak ness of man, the strong and patient love of God, His forgiving mercy in Christ, the readiness with which He helps by His spirit the struggling souls of men, the certain victory of truth and right, — these have all become a great moral inheritance of the English people, enforced by the tender words, the moving history, and the entrancing narratives of the Bible. No nation was ever more deeply i625] AUTHORISED VERSION 259 influenced in tongue and thought by a single book than the English have been by the Bible. No nobler, fitter, or more popular guide of life has ever been given to any people. You may meet with a few wayward, self-willed teachers who will repudiate or depreciate the value of this inheritance, but I am sure that this never will be the case with you, if you will give yourself honestly and trustingly to its study. Its beauty and its power will grow upon you from day to day. You will discover its inspiration by finding out how it inspires you, and looking back upon the reign of King James I., you will feel that whatever weak and foolish things were done then, you can forgive much to a period which gave to England the great literary heritage and invigorating moral influence of the Authorised Version of the Bible. CHAPTER XXIV. CHARLES I. A.D. I625-1649 King Charles I. ascended the throne surrounded by a people who welcomed him with heart and hope. The Accession of sorrow, such as it was, felt at the death of King Charles, King James was forgotten in the expectant l6zs' gladness which welcomed Charles. "The joy of the people devoured their mourning." It is noteworthy that both the young King and his father suffered by their proximity to one another. Both characters possessed at once too much and too little resemblance to heighten the reputation of either. Both were self-willed ; both had exaggerated ideas of kingly rights ; both disliked contra diction. But the incoherent volubility of James appeared vulgarity by comparison with the reserved manners of Charles, and the inability to understand any view but his own, which marked Charles, appeared folly compared with the shrewd, though crude, ideas of King James. Thus, though in one sense these kings were foils to one another, they served to heighten each other's defects, and the headstrong career of Charles was certainly not calculated to win for him the reputation which James enjoyed in his day of being a wise man. King Charles paved his own path to failure very early in his reign. Nothing so rouses suspicion as the discovery of a policy of prevarication. Englishmen have 260 1625] EARLY MISTAKES OF -THE KING 261 many faults, but the one fault from/ which they have a merciless aversion is lack of truthfulness ; and more even than a lie do they hate the evasiveness which is the cowardice of falsehood. Unhappily before j^f^1* he became king, Charles had involved himself in obligations which were certain to entangle him in diffi culties. He had promised the King of France, when he espoused his sister Henrietta, that the severe laws against the Romanists should be relaxed ; and he appeared equally ready to conciliate the feeling of Parliament by promising that the same laws should be enforced. When he found himself in a difficulty with the King of France, he pleaded that his promise onlyTneanrthat he would do this if it were possible ; and while sanctioning the strong laws which Parliament passed, he at the same time sought to neutralise them by granting dispensations and pardons. Charles was right, no doubt, in desiring to mitigate these harsh laws, but his conduct was not due, we fear, to any tenderness of feeling or sagacious sympathy with toleration. His actions were those of a man who made promises lightly, and endeavoured to extricate himself from the diffi culties of his own creation by paring down the promises or evading their obligation, and this was his almost invariable policy. No doubt Charles I. was called upon to bear responsi bility in difficult times. The world of ideas was rapidly changing, and the changes were not intelligible to the actors themselves. The spirit of freedom ™£^* of was abroad, but the nation was young in liberty. It had more ideas than judgment; it saw the dangers arising from kingly power; it saw in the House of Com mons the great and, perhaps, only force which could counteract that power. To assert the power of the Commons against the power of the King seemed to them to be fit and natural. They did not see that to arm any 262 CHARLES I. [1625- one class or body with uncontrolled power was to sub stitute one tyranny for another. These elementary truths were not clearly understood at the time, and curiously enough the very principle which would have done most to secure the safety of the sovereign and the continuance of his monarchy was the one which was most stoutly resisted by Charles in the beginning of his reign. This principle was the very simple one, that not the King, but the ministers of the King, are responsible to Parliament. That the King can do no wrong has become a maxim of the Constitution. His ministers may err, and his ministers may be dis missed, but the sovereign is the blameless head of the nation, the changeless expression of its life. The King never dies, and can do no wrong ; but this conveys no idea of infallibility any more than of immortality. Mis takes will be made by every government, but in a consti tutional monarchy the blame of these mistakes does not fall on the Crown, but on its responsible advisers. The ministers, not the sovereign, must answer for their policy to the Council of the Nation assembled in Parliament. King Charles did not perceive this, and he suffered in consequence. With a sort of perverse chivalry he sought to protect his counsellors ; he resented the iBnUnukenfeham'S complaints of Parliament as though they were infringements of his prerogative. " I will not allow any of my servants to be questioned among you" were his words to the House of Commons. But while he refused the right of the House of Commons to complain, he expected them to grant him supplies of money. The answer of the House was that grievances must first be redressed ; their complaints must be listened to, or no money would be granted. The Duke of Buckingham, his favourite, who had spent large sums of public money in a fruitless expedition to Cadiz, led the King into arbitrary 1649] MISTAKES OF CHURCH LEADERS 263 measures, by which it was hoped to silence leading oppo nents. Sir John Eliot, who came from the West, lifted up his voice in Parliament, and affirmed the principle that ministers were responsible for their actions, and could not shelter themselves from responsibility behind royal protec tion. Buckingham was impeached, but Charles boldly identified himself with the Duke. When subsidies were refused by Parliament the King asked the people for a "free gift," that is, to give supplies without the sanction of Parliament. Thousands refused the " free gift " ; for to give what Parliament had not sanctioned would be to under mine the authority of Parliament. It was a question of constitutional principle, and everywhere resistance was shown. The King changed his tactics. If he could not get his people to give, he might get them to lend money. He accordingly proceeded to collect what was known as a Forced Loan (1626). Parliament, in 1628, continued to show its determination by passing the famous "Petition of Right," which demanded, among other things, that none should be imprisoned without cause being shown. The King reluctantly yielded ; but in the following year, angered by its firm attitude, he dissolved Parliament, and for eleven years no Parliament met. In this great struggle — which was, as you know, renewed from time to time— what was the action of the Church of England? We saw that in the last reign the Mistakes of Church had identified herself too much with the the Church extravagant political theories which were dear to the heart of James. But now more than theories were in dispute, and unfortunately the leaders of the Church not only personally but officially, not only passively but actively, sided with the King. They tried to turn the churches into collecting boxes. Laud, Bishop of Bath and Wells, drew up the paper of instructions issued in the King's name, and called on the people to give liberally in support of 264 CHARLES I. [1625- the King. Thus the pulpits " were tuned," as it was called. Many of the clergy obeyed his instructions. Strange and extreme views were preached. One clergyman argued that the King, jure divino, might make laws and impose them. Another said it was like rebellion to refuse the loan asked for by the King. The Master of Peterhouse, Cambridge, argued that the fitting way to fear God was to fear the King. Dr. Mainwaring roused the wrath of the House of Commons by declaring, in a sermon preached before the King, that kings were above angels, their power being not human but superhuman, a participation of God's omnipo- tency. Such was the profane trash which was heard in the Church of England pulpits, at a time when the best of the gentry were ready to suffer imprisonment, rather than sacri fice the liberties of England by obeying the unconstitutional mandate of the King. Thus in this critical time the Church was committed to one blunder by being identified with absolutism ; but this was not the only false step. The nation had, as Rome ° we have seenJ a deep and ineradicable dread of Roman influence, Roman teaching, Roman methods. This dread, not unreasonable in itself, seeing how much the nation had suffered from Roman ascendency and intrigue, often showed itself in unreasonable and hysterical panic. But wise and prudent men ought to have known, that in whatever extravagant forms this dread might show itself, there was a sober fear of Roman practices, which was shared by the large majority of Englishmen. This dread was not lessened by the discovery that, while the King was issuing proclamations against the Romanists, he was secretly giving them dispensations. A number of priests too had come over from France with the Queen, and their presence at court caused a great deal of uneasiness. It was not, therefore, a fitting time to commence changes in the Church which 1649] DREAD OF ROME 265 were certain to be interpreted as Romeward movements. It was unwise ostentatiously to patronise men who were suspected of Roman leanings. But this is precisely what was done. A clergyman named Montague published a book which was thought to contain Romanist error. It was censured so severely in Parliament that none of his friends there said a word in its defence. The Crown replied by making Montague Bishop of Chichester. Bishop Goodman increased the popular belief that Romanising views were favoured at court, by preaching a sermon before the King, in Which a doctrine closely resembling that of transubstantiation was advocated. The House of Com mons complained that promotion fell to the lot of those who held unsound views, and that in consequence scholars bent their studies to maintain errors which were the pass port to preferment. In their remonstrance the House of Commons did not scruple to mention by name the bishops whom they distrusted ; one of these was Laud, Bishop of Bath and Wells. As if in disdain of Parliamentary opinion, Laud was made Bishop of London. It was planned that only one school of thought should be encouraged. Laud had drawn up a list in which the leading divines were tabulated and labelled. He marked the names with an "O" or a "P." "P" meant Puritan, "O" meant Orthodox. The weight of royal and official influence was to be used against all who were deemed to be Puritan in their ten dencies. Laud, who became Primate in 1633, was, both before and afterwards, the chief counsellor of the King in Church matters. It was his restless, eager, and narrow mind which originated the Church policy of the time ; his unflinching will which endeavoured to carry it through. His name is written large over the history of the Church of England from 1625 to 1645. He was responsible for much that happened, and it is needful that you should know something about him. 266 CHARLES I. [1625- William Laud was neither a great saint nor a very bad man. It is well to remember this, as he has been decried Laud's and eulogised without stint. He was a man Character, who, if he had had less responsibility, would 1573-1645- ^ave provecj a zealous, painstaking, conscien tious, and useful official ; but he was unfortunately unfit for a high position where the judicial capacity which can rise above personal prejudices is needed, and the gifts of fore sight and insight are of more importance than fussy devotion to trifles. He had great industry, and his business knowledge astonished the merchants of the city ; but he lacked largeness of- view. The mastery of details is an element of greatness, but, if it is not allied with the intellectual width which imagination supplies, it is apt to become interfering and irritating. This was the case with Laud. One gift more and he might have been a great man. Carefulness, industry, attention to details, courage of con victions, and patience were his ; but he had little intellectual sympathy, little power of putting himself in another's place, and perhaps, worst of all, little or no sense of humour. Instead, therefore, of being a statesman he was an indus trious peddler in state affairs ; instead of being a great prelate he was an episcopal martinet ; instead of being a great leader he was, as has been said, "a lawyer in a rochet." He was conscientious, but his conscience took exaggerated notice of trifles, and was often irresponsive in weightier matters ; he had clear convictions, but his mind was incapable of exploring the depths and heights where the noblest spirits have found the tragedy and exaltation of the soul. He was sincere, but his piety, though genuine, lacked the sympathy which belongs to deeper natures. Had Bishop Andrewes lived, perhaps Laud might have gained from his friendship a larger prudence and a greater appreciation of experimental piety. But Bishop Andrewes was dead, and Laud's lot was cast among r649] ARCHBISHOP LAUD 267 Puritans for whose religious attitude he had no sympathy, and among statesmen who believed that religious con formity was a safeguard of the Crown. We need not wonder that Laud, with his practical mind and clear convictions, sought to prevent religious discussion on questions like predestination, and insisted on ecclesiastical conformity. To Laud, as to most useful and second-rate intellects, the outside of things was of more moment than the inside. Why should men trouble their minds about deep and inscrutable questions concerning the love and the purpose of God ? Was it not better to go to church, to obey the King, to use the service, and accept the ruling of the Archbishop? But the people being English were so dogged that they would not see this. Laud, however, believed that it only needed a little pressure and a little patience to bring everybody round. Accord ingly he set to work to build his house, like a child upon the shore, who thinks, that because he has filled up a pool here and there, he can safely erect his sand castle regardless of the tide. But the tide was rising behind Laud, although he was too earnest in his policy to heed the tide. One quality he possessed which, if it had been allied with a larger sympathy, might have made him a great leader of men. Though rough and unsympathetic in manner he had a stern sense of impartiality in secular things, and would not favour a rich or powerful man in his wrong doing. To him rich and poor were equal, and the laws were for both alike, for his impartiality made him regard less of the opinion of others. This might have been tolerated, but the powers of the law were used on trifling occasions, and its penalties were enforced where no great principle of right and wrong was at H^ghnesgi stake. The poor mad woman, who believed herself inspired to interpret the prophecies of Daniel, was condemned to pay a fine of ,£3,000 and to be imprisoned. 268 CHARLES I. [1625- A young man who slandered Laud was sentenced to im prisonment for life, to lose his ears, to be pilloried twice, and to be branded on the forehead with the letters "L" and " R," that is, Liar and Rogue. Laud is not always to be held personally or directly responsible for severe sentences like these. But the greatness of his influence was known, and men naturally threw the blame upon him. Like Sir E. Coke, whom we have seen defending the sanctity of the law against royal interference, Laud had a high regard for the law, but there the resemblance ended. Coke had an instinctive confidence in the principle of law, but Laud had an attorney-like delight in legal proceedings. Coke upheld the majesty of law, and in doing so advanced the cause of freedom. Laud was eager to enforce laws, even obsolete laws, and in doing so he undermined the throne. Coke delighted in law; Laud delighted in laws. The law in Coke's hands became the palladium of liberty ; in Laud's it was an engine of oppression. Laud never meant to tyrannise. He desired order and decorum, a reverent manner of worship, a loyal obedience to the King, uniformity in churches, harmony of teaching in the pulpits, but his want of imagination and his belief in severe discipline committed him to courses which differed little from those of tyranny. This spirit brought him into collision with current feel ings and views. Thus, for example, he wished to promote order and reverence in the churches. Things poHcyf h^ grown slovenly in some places. The re action from superstition had taken the form of irreverence. Men put their hats upon the Communion table and used it for writing. The Communion table stood, not as we see it now at the east end of the church, but sometimes in the middle of the chancel or below the pulpit. Laud ordered that in all cases the holy table was to be placed at the east end, and be protected by a rail. 1649] LAUD'S POLICY 269 Nobody objects to this now, but in Laud's day there were many who saw in this act an attempt to revive old super stitions, and there were more who felt that the order was doubtful in law. It was quite in harmony with the law that the holy table should stand at the east end, but it was clearly intended that it should be movable, and that it might be brought into some convenient place at the time of the service. Again, there were strong opinions held on the subject of predestination. The world of thought was divided in those days between Calvinists and Arminians.* The House of Commons was very largely Calvinistic. Prynne, a leading Puritan, wished to silence those who were not Calvinists. Laud would fain have silenced the Calvinists. This, however, did not exasperate men so much as his action on the question of Sunday sports. Q„gSygn Christians from the earliest times had met for worship on the first day of the week. The Emperor Con stantine had issued an edict in favour of a rest from work on that day. Gradually the Sunday was identified with the Jewish Sabbath, and its observance considered as obligatory. The clergy, before the Reformation, had en couraged this view, following the later schoolmen, who loved to direct human life by rules. Many of the Reformers, Luther among them, had opposed the theory that such observance was binding on Christians. They welcomed the opportunity; they denied the obligation of the day. The Puritan, however, was a literalist in inter- * The Calvinist, beginning with a strong belief in God's grace, ended by attributing salvation to God's arbitrary choice bestowed on a few favoured individuals. The Arminian, beginning by a strong emphasis on man's free will and responsibility, ended in attributing salvation to human merit rather than to God's favour. Both meant well, but failed to understand God's love. The Calvinist was named after John Calvin, who held high views on predestination. The Arminian was named after Jacob Harmensen (Arminius), a Dutch divine, who died in 1609. 270 CHARLES I. [1625- pretation ; but, more to his credit, he resented the frivolity of the times, and sought to promote a stricter life. He desired to see reverence for Sunday. It was the day of rest and worship, the Sabbath on which no work should be done and no sports engaged in. The King issued, or rather republished, the " Declaration of Sports," which proclaimed that dancing, archery, leaping, May games, and morris dancing were lawful Sunday recreations when divine worship was not interfered with. Laud ordered the declaration to be read in the churches, but there were many of the clergy who shared the Puritan view of the Sunday, and some refused to read it. One clergyman showed a ready wit. He read the declaration first and then read the Ten Commandments, and added, " Dearly beloved, ye have heard the commandments of God and man ; obey which you please." The extreme wing of the Puritans disapproved of the theatre. Their spokesman, Prynne, a clever lawyer, wrote a book called Histriomastix, in which he assailed in a wholesale fashion the mbrals of the stage. His language conveyed an affront to the court, and was studiously offensive to the Queen, who took part in theatrical representations. Prynne was sentenced to fine and imprisonment. Laud's forcible and self-willed policy was apparently successful. Men were silenced ; clergymen were coerced Alienation *nt0 surface conformity ; few scandals were re- ofthe ported; Convocation flattered itself that peace Moderates. an(j contentment prevailed. But the success was too dearly purchased. Beneath the surface a deep distrust and far-reaching discontent reigned. Men saw changes introduced which looked like the revival of those superstitions which their forefathers had put "away. They heard rumours that Laud was in favour at Rome, and had been offered a cardinal's hat. They found themselves compelled to countenance what were to them violations 1649] EXODUS TO AMERICA 271 of what they called the Sabbath. " When it was seen," as it has been said, " that there was no safety for those who differed from the views of Laud, who had the King com pletely at his disposal," hundreds of the sternest and most pious of her sons quitted the shores of England to find religious freedom beyond the Atlantic. ' ' Men they were who could not bend ; Blest pilgrims, surely, as they took for guide A will by sovereign conscience sanctified." The pressing danger came when Laud alienated the sym pathies of moderate men. Then the ballast shifted, and the ship became unmanageable. Some saw the signs of peril. In 1639, Edward Hyde tried to open the Arch bishop's eyes. " Everyone," he said, " spake ill of his Grace as the cause of all that went amiss." But Laud could not look beyond the moment or realise that victory may be too dearly bought. Meanwhile it must be remembered that matters were not working well between the King and the Parliament. Englishmen feel keenly whatever touches their purse or their faith ; they have a quaint mixture parUament of practical and imaginative qualities. Parlia ment occupied itself with the questions of national religion and national taxation. The King wanted money. The Petition of Right had declared that the consent of Parliament was requisite to make a tax lawful. The King claimed the right to levy ship-money on the plea that this being money raised for national defence was not a tax. But the general sense of the people, in spite of some of the judges, declared that it was a tax. Then a simple squire of Buckinghamshire made himself famous. He would not, he said, draw on himself the curse of Magna Charta. So spake John Hampden. The King had bad advisers, and he was himself curiously self-willed and 272 CHARLES I. [1625- narrow-minded ; he had a strangely unbalanced con science. The very man who would die rather than betray his trust had but small regard for truth. He would not sell the Church into the hands of her foes, but he could break his word without remorse. Such was the King. On one side of him stood Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, ready to employ an Irish army in the King's defence, or as some persisted in believing against England, who taught that the King's prerogative was above the law, and whose name was, in the eyes of Englishmen, synonymous with tyranny; on the other side of the King stood Laud, who seemed to threaten the religious principles for which England had suffered so much. Against them was a House of Commons, of a vehement and intolerant religious spirit, saturated with narrow, pedantic conserva tism, but which nevertheless contained men of larger view and more enlightened spirit. These last had no wish to identify themselves with Puritanic extremes, they had no love for the Calvinism of Prynne, but they had profound dread of the policy and purposes of Laud. A conciliatory spirit, an open mind on matters concerning Church and State, would have saved the King and disarmed revolt; but the party of wise and moderate men were between the upper and lower millstones of intolerance. The time came when the pressure of official interference was too great. The King's advisers were harsh and un yielding. The King himself' was self-willed and arrogant when he was strong; he was treacherously disloyal to his word when he appeared to yield ; he was capriciously conscientious, variable in mood, and persistently insincere. The men who had some dawning notions of civil liberty were driven from his side by his pretensions and his arbitrary exercise of power. The men who were attached to the Church of England as settled in James's reign, were alienated by the action of Laud. They had no love of 1649] PUBLIC FEELING 273 Puritanism, but they were not going to surrender the Protestant position which had been so hardly won. But there was no wish to conciliate moderate men. The policy of " Thorough " was in favour. "Can this be piety? No — some fierce maniac hath usurped her name, And scourges England struggling to be free. " Meanwhile troubles pressed. Financial questions were hotly debated ; the treasury was in want of money ; the King demanded ship-money. The demand was resisted. The King feared to face Parliament, because he knew that Parliament would ask questions about Laud's policy. Laud went on in his headlong career. During a visitation between 1634-1637, he tried to enforce his own views; the Communion tables were to be fixed where he wished ; conformity was insisted on ; men were punished who refused to bow at the name of our Lord whenever it was pronounced. Public feeling and apprehension were aroused. Those who resisted or assailed public authority were now heroes with the crowd. Three years had made a change. In 1634 Prynne had been disregarded as a commonplace criminal. In 1637, when he went with Bastwick and Burton to the pillory to suffer punishment for having libelled the bishops, the crowd strewed flowers on the way. The tide was setting in one direction, and that not favourable to the King and his counsellors. Affairs in Scotland served to increase the troubles. In 1637 an attempt was made to introduce the Prayer Book into Scotland. A memorable scene occurred in St. Giles', Edinburgh, when the service Scotland. was read there for the first time. A woman, known as Jeannie: Geddes, flung a stool at the clergyman's head. A riot took place. The people sided with the rioters. The Prayer Book was doubly unpopular; it was T 274 CHARLES I. [1625- thought to be Popish, and it came from England. Numbers of Scotchmen signed a covenant which bound them to strive for the restoration of what they considered the pure and free gospel. No way of compromise was found, and the difficulties led to war. The King found himself confronted by a powerful Scotch army. Money was needed. It had been raised by fine and arbitrary exaction ; but methods which sufficed in times of peace were inadequate in times of war. The army must be paid. The King in these straits was obliged to replenish the exchequer. The Parliament, known as "The Long Par- TheLong liament," met in 1640. Fear had seized the Parliament, hearts of men. The King too was reluctant * 4°' to disband the army. There was reason to believe that a plot was on foot to overawe Parliament by military force. The year 1641 was the year of great crises. It was the year in which the House of Commons showed that it would not be trifled with. It was the last year in which the influence of the moderate party might have been en listed and civil war averted. It was the year in which it was not yet too late. There is evidence to show that as yet the "Root-and- Branch " policy, that is, the policy which sought to abolish Episcopacy and all cathedral offices, though Feeling talked about, was not the wish of the people. Indeed, the English people seldom favour ex tremes. The country wished for reforms ; but although Laud was distrusted, and Rome and Romanising tendencies were feared, the Book of Common Prayer and the Church of England herself were dear to the bulk of the people. Parliament was besieged with petitions. A petition for the abolition of Episcopacy had been signed by 1500 people, and this had been supported by another signed by 700 ministers; but on the other side petitions signed 1649] AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND 275 by 100,000 persons, including the signatures of 6000 noblemen, gentlemen, and clergymen, were received. The temporal power of the bishops had been in many cases misused, and the people were probably willing enough to see their coercive jurisdiction removed, but they had no wish to destroy episcopal government, or to sacrifice the Church of England. "For the miscarriage of governors to destroy the government we trust," so ran one of the petitions, " it shall never enter into the hearts of this wise and honourable assembly." But events were rapidly giving the place of power to the extremists, and for this swift march of events the King and his counsellors were chiefly responsible. „ „ _, . , , , ... Influence of Charles could not understand compromise ; he affairs in never sincerely trusted his people, his faithful Scotland and Lords and Commons, or even his most devoted counsellors. He had none of that generous simplicity of nature which wins confidence by bestowing it. He could not understand that it is sometimes the highest wisdom to rely on the better instincts of men. Had he been able, even at the eleventh hour, to trust, as Elizabeth did, to the heart of his people, he might have vanquished them by yielding. But while the year moved swiftly, and the King and the Commons regarded one another with distrust, the events in the North added to the vigour of the extremists in Parliament. The attempt to force the liturgy upon Scotland had been, as we have seen, followed by serious consequences. Laud, blinded by his theoretical mind to the possibility of mistake on his own part, attributed the failure to the way in which the policy was carried out. " The errors," he said, " were about N the execution, not the direction. I am confident all had gone well if Traquair had done his duty." But all did not go well. The answer given to the policy of Laud was a further development of the spirit which dictated the Covenant. 276 CHARLES I. [1625- A Solemn League and Covenant was agreed upon by men both in England and Scotland. The aim of this league was the extirpation of Episcopacy. There was a party in the House of Commons favourable to Presbyter- ianism, and thus strong sympathy existed between people north and south of the Tweed. The Scotch would not forego their Presbyterianism, and the desire to work in harmony with them increased the anti-episcopal feeling in England. Slowly the line of cleavage was drawn. The Episcopalians were thrown more and more into the hands of the Royalists ; the Parliament more and more into the hands of the Presbyterians. And now a fresh and common danger drove these last more closely together. This danger was a rebellion in Ireland, which intensified religious animosities. The rebellion has been traced to different causes. Some said that it was due to fear. The Irish Roman Catholics distrusted the English House of Commons because of its intolerant Puritanism, and con sequently it has been said that the outbreak was due to fear. Others attributed the revolt to the example of resistance to the King's authority, which had been set by the English House of Commons. Dean Swift went so far as to say : " The English Parliament held the King's hands while the Irish Papists were cutting our grandfathers' throats." There can be little doubt, however, that animosity of race and religion were at work in the rebellion, for it was accompanied by all the tokens of religious fanaticism. The Protestant churches were sacked, the Bibles were torn in pieces and trampled under foot. The bishops were driven into exile. Two of them were captured by the rebels — one being the saintly Bishop Bedell, whose con spicuous piety and exalted character extorted from the Roman Catholic priest the exclamation, "Sit anima mea cum Bedello," and over whose grave the rebel soldiery fired a salute, and expressed at once their admiration of the 1649] INTRIGUE IN IRELAND 277 dead man and their purpose in revolt by crying, "Requiescat in pace ultimus Anglorum." At this terrible time some thousands of English Pro testants were killed in cold blood. Many more were turned out of their homes to perish of hunger. The religious and political aims became apparent as the rebellion went on. The intriguing hand of Rome was soon at work. In 1645 a papal nuncio, Rinuccini by name, arrived with a frigate of 26 guns, a retinue of foreigners, and a large quantity of military stores. The nuncio gained considerable influence in Ireland. A scheme was on foot for separating Ireland from England, and for annexing it to some Roman Catholic power (probably Spain) under the suzerainty of the Pope. In this crisis the fatal insincerity of the King again betrayed him. In Ireland there was a moderate as well as an extreme Irish and Roman party. King Charles carried on negotiations with both parties. His negotia tions were discovered, and in consequence distrust of him increased. The English House of Commons meanwhile saw in the Irish rebellion a fresh peril. Many of its members realised that both religious and political questions were at stake. In the activity of Rome, in the policy of Laud, and in the invincible duplicity of the King, they read signs of a conspiracy against their faith and freedom. They became convinced that England and Scotland must stand together against dangers which threatened the lives and liberties of Protestants. CHAPTER XXV. THE RISE OF THE COMMONWEALTH A.D. I64O-1660 Men of moderate views were not silent at this time. Con troversy raged round the question of Episcopacy. Moderates*6 It was assailed and defended. Bishop Hall and Archbishop Ussher defended it with studied moderation ; and in the House of Commons, men who were known to be ardent for Church reform, expressed their belief in the antiquity and efficiency of Episcopal government. Moreover, there was in many quarters a distrust of Presbyterianism. The Presbyterian ministers in Scotland had proved themselves as stiff in upholding ecclesiastical authority and discipline as .any English bishops. Episcopacy, armed with coercive powers, had alienated at length half England from the Church. It was a poor choice to freedom-loving Englishmen to be obliged to choose between one form of ecclesiastical tyranny and another, but in times of popular excitement the vehe mence of extremes gains more than its share of power. Fear and prejudice, bigotry and self-interest, took advantage of circumstances. The wise and temperate voices were soon silenced. In vain did Digby warn the House of Commons that it might part with its freedom in its fear of losing it. He described a huge petition which had been pre sented against Episcopacy as a comet with a terrible tail pointing to the north. In vain did Falkland, fearing lest 278 1640-60] CIVIL WAR 279 intellectual freedom should be endangered, plead for a wise vigilance instead of a ruthless destruction of existing forms of Church government. The tide was too strong. The follies and tyrannies of Laud were too patent. No evils seem so great as those we suffer from at the moment. Presbyter might be " priest writ large," but the Presbyterian assemblies were far away. Laud and his brother bishops were near. The bishops were nominees of the King. The weight of Laud's influence had been with the King. The oppressions from which men suffered were associated with Laud and the King. The Star Chamber— a court possessing powers long viewed with suspicion by English men — and the Court of High Commission were realities, and Parliament distrusted the bishops as those who wished to bring in "an English though not a Roman Popery." Events moved fast. The Long Parliament met. Before the year had closed not only had Strafford perished, but Laud had been committed as a prisoner to the The civil Tower on a charge of high treason. Strafford War, fell, not because of men's indignation against * 4*' him ; he was the victim of " the pitilessness of terror." Ill-government provokes its own punishment, but insin cerity in government prepares the weapon against itself in the distrust and panic which it creates. In May, T641, Strafford was executed; and before the House adjourned in October the Courts of High Commission and the Star Chamber had been abolished, the jurisdiction of the King's Council had been limited, and the right of the House to a voice in its own dissolution or adjournment had been affirmed. Hardly had Parliament adjourned than the Irish revolt of which I have spoken broke out. The King needed the help of Parliament, for Scotland was in arms and, Ireland in rebellion ; but the House of Commons feared to entrust the King with an- army 280 THE COMMONWEALTH [,64o- which might be used against itself. The House therefore voted not supplies, but the Bill of Remonstrance. The year closed in storm. The bishops, who had protested against the validity of laws passed during their enforced absence, were impeached. In the early days of January, 1642, the King attempted to arrest five members of Parliament. The House of Commons resisted, and pleaded privilege. When the King demanded to know where the five members were, Speaker Lenthall replied in memorable words, and declared that he had neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak but as the House bade him. The House of Commons fearing violence took refuge in the City. The City sheltered them and then escorted them back to Westminster. It soon became clear that reconciliation had ceased to be possible. Rumours true and false were circulated; terror and distrust were on every side. Violent and little-minded people, elated by the fall of Laud, began to show their ignorance and spite in petty acts of retaliation. Uncultivated fanaticism was let loose. In many places churches were invaded ; stained glass windows were ruthlessly smashed to pieces ; the oak work was destroyed. "They broke down the carved work with axes and hammers." Class hatred added to the animosity of the times, and the young fashionables of the court called the short-haired men of the crowd Roundheads. Nicknames became signs of division. The days of Cavalier and Roundhead had begun. Each side began to look for the protection of armed men. The King collected his army, and in August he set up his standard at Nottingham. Civil war had begun, and the last chance of a pacific settlement passed away. The House of Commons, emancipated from fear of control, had matters their own way. It was all-important, Fresby- however, to secure the co-operation of the teriamsm. Scottish covenanters. Moved partly by political 1660] WESTMINSTER CONFESSION 281 necessity and partly by hatred of Episcopal tyranny, they accepted in 1643 the Solemn League and Covenant. Presbyterianism was in the ascendant. A committee of divines met at Westminster to draw up proposals for a fresh religious settlement. This was called the Westminster Assembly, and the doctrinal Westminster articles agreed upon there are known as the Confession, Westminster Confession. The divines there l643' assembled produced a Book of Worship, a plan for Church government, and a Catechism, as well as the Confession of Faith. Early in 1645 Parliament abolished the use of the Prayer Book, and authorised as the legal service book the new book of worship, called the Directory. The following year this new service-book was accepted, and the catechisms, strongly Calvinistic in tone, were sanctioned; but the House of Commons fell into the same mistake as the King and Laud had done. Both sides were alike in this; they wished uniformity, and they believed that uni formity could be brought about by force, that is, by legal enactment under legal penalties. Both, moreover, fondly believed in what was called discipline. But the days for discipline by coercive authority were passing away. The Directory was used in some, not by any means in all, the churches, for the Presbyterian discipline never made way, and within two or three years another party rose into power who swept it entirely away. Meanwhile the clergy of the Church of England were in sorry case. Some were re moved from their benefices because they were politically obnoxious, others because they would not accept the Covenant, others again were dispossessed when the use of the Prayer Book was forbidden. But still in many places the familiar words of the Prayer Book were heard, for some clergymen, though they did not read from the Book of Common Prayer, recited the prayers from memory. Others fell back upon a sort of paraphrase of 282 THE COMMONWEALTH clo the old forms. Into certain parts of the country, more over, the Puritan reaction never penetrated. Thus in many places little real change was made; but from 1646 till 1654 much confusion prevailed, and men found that the Parliamentary discipline was as harsh in its way as that of Laud. The year which saw the abolition of the Prayer Book Execution saw tnfi execution of Laud. The abolition of Laud, of the Prayer Book was ordered on January 4th, 1645; on January 10th, six days after, Laud was led out to die. He had feared a violent death, but as the hour approached his fears vanished. "No one," he said, "can be more willing to send me out of life than I am desirous to go." When he came to Tower Hill he read a speech. He said that he had come to the brink of the sea, which must be crossed. "I am not in love with this passage through the Red Sea, for I have the weakness and infirmities of flesh and blood plentifully in me ; and I have prayed with my Saviour — Ut transiret calix iste — that this" cup of red wine might pass from me ; but if not, God's will, not mine, be done. ... I was born and baptised in the bosom of the Church of England established by law ; in that profession I have ever since lived, and in that I come now to die. This is no time to dissemble with God ; least of all in matters of religion : and therefore I desire it may be re membered, I have always lived in the Protestant religion established in England, and in that I come now to die." He begged forgiveness of all whom he might have offended. He asked the crowd to join with him in prayer. When he had finished Sir John Clotworthy somewhat needlessly worried him with cant questions. He asked, "What was the most comfortable word a dying man might have in his mouth." Laud replied, " I desire to depart and to be with Christ." He was then asked on what word the THE OXFORD CROWN (CHARLES I.), 1644. To face p. 282. i66o] EXECUTION OF LAUD 283 assurance of faith might most securely rest. He replied that it was on the Word of God concerning Christ and His dying for us. He then knelt at the block and prayed, " Lord, I am coming as fast as I can ; I know I must pass through the shadow of death, before I can come to see Thee; but it is but umbra mortis, a mere shadow of death, a little darkness upon nature; but Thou by Thy merits and passion hast broke through the jaws of death." A little more he prayed, and then said loudly, "Lord, receive my soul." This was the signal. The blow fell, and that life of good intentions, many mistakes, and much misunderstanding was ended. Though the use of the Prayer Book was prohibited, yet Laud was buried with the service of the Church of England. He was interred in All Hallows Barking, but after the Restoration his remains were removed to the chapel of St. John's College, Oxford, where he wished to be buried. He lies there in the midst of the college which he loved so well, and for which he did so much. The cause of the King was now practically lost. Marston Moor, fought six months earlier, had destroyed the Royalist hopes in the north ; Naseby, fought five months Cromwell and later, ended the war. The papers seized there the Army revealed the intrigues of the King. He was ^pen en s' found to be ready to concede everything which the Roman Catholic party demanded. He was a weak man at his wits' end, and we must not judge him too harshly. The struggle, moreover, was ceasing to be a constitutional one. The Parliament had won, but the army was to reap the spoils. While the House of Commons was dreaming about Presbyterian uniformity other forces were coming into play. A party was arising which was to advocate, not uniformity, but the toleration of variety. The Presbyterian House of Commons, and, the Presbyterian clergy, were scandalised to find that their edicts were not accepted. 284 THE COMMONWEALTH [1640- Nonconformity sprang up under their very eyes, and by the time the Westminster divines had drawn up their Confes sion of Faith, there had arisen a score or so of sects which claimed their right to dissent from established forms. The Presbyterians were alarmed ; the London ministers de clared that they hated and abhorred toleration. But in the meantime, a man who had more force of character and greater sagacity than scores of theorists, was proving to England that religious toleration was both possible and wise. Cromwell had raised and drilled his troops. None could dispute their military qualities ; few that heard their voices raised in psalm or hymn upon the battlefield could doubt their sturdy faith. No swearing, drinking, or dis- orderliness were allowed in the ranks, but no test of con formity was asked. Cromwell did not care whether men called themselves Baptists, or Independents, or Presbyter ians. So long as they were good men and good soldiers they were welcome. Thus the spirit of toleration found its place in Cromwell's troops. The day of Presbyterian ascendency was drawing to a close. The House of Com mons was Presbyterian, but the heart of the army was with Cromwell, and Cromwell wished for liberty of con science. "Presbyterians, Independents, all here have the same spirit of faith and prayer, the same presence and answer. They agree here, have no names of difference; pity it is it should be otherwise anywhere." The last weapon against Parliament was forged when what was called the Self-denying Ordinance was passed The Self- ^y k°tn houses. This excluded the members denying of both houses, with but few exceptions, from Ordinance, an mjijtary and civil office. The command of the army thus passed out of the hands of men who were attached to Parliament and were imbued with constitutional ideas. Fairfax and Cromwell Were left to command the army, and they reformed it on the lines of 1660] SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE 285 Cromwell's method. Rank was no longer an exclusive title to command. Piety and capacity were the qualities most valued. Birth and blood were allowed no privilege. The army became a new and independent power in the nation. Its connexion with Parliament was weakened by the Self- denying Ordinance. In its reconstructed form it had few ties with the great families, and few representatives of the ripe wisdom of the nation. Youth and vigour, rather than age and experience, marked the army of the new model. While, therefore, Parliament was pressing forward measures to secure Presbyterianism, the power was slowly growing which was to destroy both Parliament and Presby terianism, and to seal the fate of the King. The Parliament still held to the hope of some agreement with the King. The leading members looked with dis trust upon the army. In the triumph of the army they saw a double danger ; it was the advocate of democratic institutions in the State and toleration in religion. But the Presbyterian party adhered to privileges and abominated toleration. Dread of the army led them to open negotia tions with the King. The country was tired of war, and men longed for peace. The King was ready to come to terms, but he refused to take the parliament.0 Covenant or compel others to take it, to abolish Episcopacy, or to disendow the Church of England. Thus the negotiations failed. The King now tried to gain support from Scotland. There were some grounds of hope that the Scotch Presbyterians and the English Royalists might unite on behalf of the King. The Covenant was the stumbling-block. Hesitation ensued. Time was lost. But while others were talking Cromwell was acting, there must be no more parleying or bargaining. He marched north, inflicted a crushing defeat upon the Duke of Hamil ton at Preston, advanced into Scotland, and there overthrew the power of the moderate Presbyterians. In England 286 THE COMMONWEALTH [^40- Parliament had just agreed to treat with the King when Colonel Pride, supported by soldiery, expelled the majority from the House. The party of toleration and free insti tutions had triumphed, but with the weapons of force. The remnant of the House of Commons voted Presby terians to prison. Constitutional government was over thrown. The sovereignty of force began, but it paid insincere homage to order by endeavouring to array itself in legal forms. The shred of the House, which violence had left, set up a High Court to try the King. Not half of those named appeared at the trial. The King, who had set aside law, now stood upon law against his opponents, who were in their turn setting it aside. Only those deter mined to condemn him countenanced these proceedings. The sentence was a foregone conclusion. The King was condemned to die. On January 30th, 1649, he stepped out of the window of the Palace of Whitehall and stood upon the scaffold. Execution of R was evident that popular sympathy was with the King, him. He had made many mistakes, but they 1 49' were pathetic mistakes, the mistakes of a weak but obstinate man who distrusts his own judg ment overmuch at one moment, and obstinately clings to it at another. He had bad counsellors, but the worst counsellor of all was his own weakness, which betrayed him into impossible promises, and left him exposed to the imputation of insincerity and falsehood. But men forgot his foolishness when they saw his dignified conduct and calm bearing on that winter afternoon, and a groan broke from the crowd when his head fell. After- generations have forgiven his faults and tried to recollect his comeliness, his misfortunes; and his high courage at the close of life ; and English Churchmen came to regard him as a martyr for the Church when they realised that he had, when beset by personal dangers, refused to consent to the CROMWELL AT THE AGE OF 58. From the picture in the National Portrait Gallery. An enlargement in oil from the head in water-colours by Samuel Cooper, belonging to the Duke of Buccleuch. To face p. 286. 1660] EXECUTION OF THE KING 287 mutilation or spoliation of the Church of England. All men whose hearts beat in sympathy with what is true and manly must recognise the genuine loyalty of the words in which he replied to the proposals of Parliament : " I have done what I could to bring my conscience to a compliance with their proposals, and cannot, and I will not lose my conscience to save my life." These are noble words. To live in the true spirit of them is to live worthily. It is never worth while to lose one's conscience ; its integrity is more precious than life. The four or five years which followed the death of King Charles were years of confusion. Cromwell was occupied in subduing Ireland and Scotland. The Pres byterian party had been alienated, and many victories S of them preferred to work with the Royalists rather than with the Independents. The hopes of the royal party revived. The late King's son, Charles, came to Scotland ; but the battle of Dunbar revealed that Cromwell's arm was still strong. Leslie, who commanded the Scotch troops, had the better position and the larger force, while Cromwell's men were sick and hungry. In the early dawn of September 3rd, 1650, the fight commenced. The Scotch could not with- Dunbar°i6so. stand the vigour of Cromwell's attack : the morning light showed the Scotch broken and flying, and the words of the Psalmist burst from Cromwell's lips, " Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered ! Like as the mist vanisheth, so shalt Thou drive them away." A year later, on the same day, the battle of Worcester BatUe of was fought, and young Charles had to fly the Worcester, country. The confusion of those times was in l6si' a sense favourable to the Church. The Solemn League and Covenant was no longer enforced, and in its place a declaration called the Engagement was insisted on. Under this a certain measure of freedom of worship was allowed 288 THE COMMONWEALTH [1640- to all ministers of religion who engaged to be faithful to the de facto Government. Thus Episcopalians who saw their way to subscribe the Engagement were able to serve the churches. But even under this appearance of toleration an intolerant spirit prevailed, for the prohibi tion against the use of the Prayer Book remained in force. To meet this emergency Dr. Sanderson provided a form of service, closely resembling that of the Prayer Book, which the clergy, when unable to use the Book itself, might employ. Some clergy disapproved of the use of any service but that of the Prayer Book, and con tinued to use it in secret, while others recited it from memory. There was a division of opinion among Church men on the subject. The use of the Prayer Book in church, however, had not wholly disappeared, for writing on March 5th* 1649, Evelyn says, "I heard the Common Prayer (a rare thing in those days) in St. Peter's, at St. Paul's Wharf, London," and in 1652 he heard a Church of England clergyman preach in church at Lewisham. He speaks, too, approvingly of an incumbent, who was an Independent, as a preacher of sound doctrine and a peaceable man, " which was an extraordinary felicity in this age." But the year 1654 brought in severer measures. Certain commissioners called Triers were appointed, whose business it was to test or try the ministers of religion in e ners, or(jer {0 ascertain their fitness for their work. 1654. There was something praiseworthy in the wish to secure fitting men, but the fashion of the day was to pry deeply into men's personal and spiritual experiences. No doubt these experiences are in all earnest natures very real, but they are sacred, and it is doubtful whether they are deepened by being talked about — certainly they are hardly fit subjects to be submitted to public examination. It is not those who feel the most deeply who can speak 1660] THE PRAYER BOOK PENALTIES 289 the most glibly. The sincere man in those cases may appear at a disadvantage by the side of the shallow man or the hypocrite, and the system of the Triers was not one likely to promote religious sincerity ; they were soon pronounced incompetent, and a hope sprang up that a larger toleration might be inaugurated. Cromwell, who had a better understanding and a greater soul than many men of his day, took counsel with Archbishop Ussher and other Episcopalians. The hopes of toleration, however, were destined to be frustrated. In the year 1655 was issued the edict which prohibited the ejected clergy from acting as Penalties chaplains, schoolmasters, or lecturers, and from against use of preaching or ministering in public or private. rayer The penalties for the use of the Prayer Book were now revived in severer form. Thus it became a crime punish able by law to read words which were dear as their mother speech to the bulk of the English people. The victory was for the moment in the hands of the extremists. The cruelty of this edict was set forth in courageous fashion by a clergyman, Dr. Gauden, who had accepted the Covenant. He showed how the decree robbed them of their last chance of livelihood. "After these poor ministers had gained some little plank or rafter - . . by which to save themselves from utter shipwreck and sinking ; they are now alarmed afresh . . . condemned to be idle, the vulture of famine and all worldly calamities must be for ever preying upon the bowels of themselves, their wives and their children ! " The edict was to take effect at the close of the year. On the last Sunday of religious freedom the supporters of* the Church of England joined sadly in what seemed to them a funeral service of .their Church. "The mournfullest day," says Evelyn, "that in my life I had seen, or the Church of England herself since the Reformation, to the great rejoic ing of both Papist and Presbyter." u 290 THE COMMONWEALTH [1640 Although under such a severe edict it seemed to some that the Church of England would be entirely destroyed, Efforts to yet a ^ew l°yal spirits held together. In quiet Preserve the ways and in distant places services were kept ' "" ""' up. Ordinations even took place. Men of large means like Dr. Hammond contributed to the support of needy clergy in exile, and funds were raised to support young students who should afterwards be ordained. All show of Parliamentary government soon came to an end. The Protectorate developed into a rule as absolute Era of an(^ as indifferent to legal sanction as Tudor Military Rule, or Stuart might have wished. Military govern- 1 ss' ment was everywhere. The country was divided into ten portions, each portion under the authority of a Major-General. The safety and religious liberty of each place depended largely upon the spirit of the command ing officer. These were the eight years of usurpation, as Bishop Burnet called them. Though all semblance of constitutional freedom had disappeared, the epoch was not without its happiness and glory. Cromwell's disposition was towards religious toleration, and when he was freed from the interference of the narrower sort of man he was able to show more consideration for the oppressed. When he could do so safely, some relaxation took place. The attention of Englishmen, moreover, was drawn away from home affairs by the vigour of Cromwell's foreign policy. The Dutch, whose fleet had menaced England, were de feated, and peace was made with them. England gained supremacy over the seas, and a league of Protestant Northern Europe was contemplated. Blake sailed for the Mediterranean, bombarded Algiers and annihilated its pirate fleet, forced Tuscany to make reparation for harm done to English commerce, and by the order of Cromwell compelled the Duke of Savoy and the Pope of Rome to desist from their cruel persecution of the Vaudois. 1660] MILITARY RULE 291 The supremacy of Spain in the West Indies was broken by the capture of Jamaica and by the last brilliant action of Blake, who swept into the Bay of Santa Cruz and destroyed the Spanish fleet. Blake sailed homewards, but died, worn out with dropsy and scurvy, in sight of England. England rose high in the esteem of foreign powers. Her voice was no uncertain one in the counsels of Europe, and Cromwell, in winning so high a place for England, had established his own reputation as a ruler, and home tyrannies were in part forgotten in the general prosperity which prevailed. Nevertheless, the nation was not satisfied. Cromwell found that it was easier to overthrow a Constitution than to create one. There are certain forces and influences which do not show themselves much «'"f^^f,"tion at Home in everyday life, but which, nevertheless, are indispensable to society, and which cannot be commanded at pleasure. Every military government has experienced this. It does not take long to organise an army, but it takes centuries to develop a nation. Naked power becomes conscious of its own unseemliness, and longs to clothe itself in the decent forms of society, but clothes only fit those for whom they are made. Like Napoleon after him, Cromwell found that he might rule, but he could not establish a government without the good-will of the better part of the people. In 1657 a Constitution more resembling the ancient one was established. Parliament, in two houses, was assembled. The attempt was thus made to clothe with legal sanction the authority of Crom well, who with due formality was again declared Lord Protector. But Cromwell's position was far from happy or secure. National expenditure had been large. Rumours of royalist insurrection were heard and discontent was Cromwell's spreading through the army. Cromwell died at Death> l6s»- 292 THE COMMONWEALTH [1640-60 the fitting moment. The unrest at home was still below the surface : abroad his fame stood high. England could speak with her enemies in the gate. Cromwell was not yet sixty, but his life had been a hard one, and his later years were harassed by many cares. He had secret enemies, and he went about in fear of assassination. He was ill too, and restless. At first his brave spirit refused to believe in his own sickness. He had surmounted diffi culties, and he could surmount this present danger; but the hand that takes no denial was upon him, and at length he realised that the end had come, though, as he said, he would willingly live if he could serve God and his people. A terrible tempest swept over the country ; the clamour of the elements was interpreted by some as the token of heaven's wrath, while others heard in it the echo of victory, and on the 3rd of September, the anniversary of the battles of Dunbar and Worcester, Cromwell's stout spirit passed away. CHAPTER XXVI. THE RESTORATION 1660-1685 The moment the strong hand of the Protector was re moved the symptoms of disorder appeared. The House of Commons met. The breath was hardly out The of the great ruler's body when men were ready Restoration, to let loose their tongues. The House of lMo" Commons — a remnant of the old House — still continued its policy of exclusion. It had no wish for free repre sentation. It feared the people, and it no less feared the army. The army in England was divided against itself, looking doubtfully towards the north, and wondering what the army under General Monk would do. But they were not long left in doubt : while others hesitated Monk made up his mind. He did 'more : he read his countrymen aright ; he spoke the magic word of freedom ; he declared for a free Parliament. His march south was a triumphal progress. Parliament met. They were willing to arrange terms with the King, but Monk was beforehand with them, and while they were talking Charles Stuart was at the door. The nation was surprised to find its wishes anticipated. Richard Cromwell had vanished, and almost before men realised the significance of what was taking place the monarchy had been restored. The Convention Parliament (as it was called) declared that, according to ancient and fundamental laws, the govern- 293 294 THE RESTORATION [1660 ment is, and. ought to be, by King, Lords, and Commons. ! On the 2 5th/of May, 1660, Charles returned to the country amid the rejoicings of thousands. He was crowned by the aged prelate Juxon, now Archbishop of Canterbury, who had attended Charles I. on the scaffold. The King was restored, but what about the Church? There was a temporary hesitation on both sides. It was difficult to gauge the temper of the nation. of Religion011 ^or a dozen years or more England had been under Puritan rule; the parishes had been filled with non-episcopalian incumbents ; none could measure the strength of their influence. The issue was doubtful. To temporise was the policy advised by Hyde, now Lord Chancellor, and accepted by Charles. In his Declaration, issued at Breda on April 4th, the King promised liberty to tender consciences. In October another Declaration was drawn up by the Chancellor, who understood the import ance of feeling his way. It was he who had, in days gone by, warned Laud of his growing unpopularity. The Declaration now issued appeared to sanction compromises to meet the views of the Presbyterians. The King owed his throne, not only to the Episcopalians, but to the Presbyterians : both parties had united in bringing him back again. The non-episcopal party felt themselves the stronger, and at a distance the differences between them did not seem so insuperable. To the doctrinal part of the Prayer Book little or no objection was felt, butit was wished that in the use of ceremonies liberty should be permitted, and that extempore prayer should be allowed. The King's autumn proclamation raised the hopes of those who wished concessions to be made. A revision of the liturgy was promised. Some additional forms of service in Scripture language were to be provided. In certain matters presby ters were to be associated with the bishops. Meanwhile the ceremonies were to be left optional. i68S] REACTION FROM PURITANISM 295 But the hopes of compromise were not to be realised. The Declaration, we must acknowledge, was not quite sincere. It was issued to gain time and to disarm opposi tion. Time alone could reveal the strength of the parties, and it soon became clear that the Sectarians had over estimated their power, and the Episcopalians had not realised their strength. Moreover, the hour Reaction was not favourable for compromise. The from spirit of reaction was abroad, and the spirit url amsm' of reaction is neither reflective nor magnanimous. The Convention House of Commons was followed by another elected in the midst of the wild and heedless joy which the King's return had awakened. In it were found men who had suffered and were longing to retaliate. The reaction was not political only ; the severe discipline of Puritan rule had alienated multitudes. The religious or irreligious disposition to invent sins had disgusted reason able men. It was not enough that things forbidden in the Bible were to be avoided, men were expected to show Bible ground for their most innocent actions. The Bible was to the Puritan not so much a book of great principles which Christian men must apply according to their judg ment and their consciences, but it was looked upon as a sort of directory of conduct. Whatever could not be supported by chapter and verse was to be condemned. There is a certain temper of mind which reduces religion to a code and leaves no scope for personal temperament. When people under the influence of this temper read the Bible, they ignore the deep poetry with which the sacred writers clothe their thoughts. This is the temper of the literalist who, more from dulness than from malice, has been in every age an enemy of spiritual truths ; and doubly so, for his prosaic interpretations have misled men's minds, and have also provoked prosaic doctrinaires on the other side to imitate his example and 296 THE RESTORATION [1660 increase the burdens of belief to men. It was want of wholesome imaginativeness which led the Puritan to con demn innocent amusements as sinful. The joy which decorates the home and the church at Christmas appeared to him to be superstitious. The maypole and the dance on the village green were sinful. Art was allowed no right of expression. Pictures and statuary were frowned upon. The theatres were closed. With the advent of Charles the reaction came. Charles was a good-natured, self-indulgent, and careless man, but with a carelessness tempered by a selfish prudence, with good abilities, some wit, and no morals. The long-repressed spirits and passions of men broke out into exuberant revolt. Profanity became fashion able; obscenity provoked laughter. Life was no longer serious. It was fine fun to have power, and to be relieved from responsibility. The younger generation, who had no wrongs to avenge, were willing enough to banish all that reminded them of the sour regime from which they had escaped. A gay, good-natured, and unrestrained reckless ness of spirit was abroad. England had had enough of sombre living — might not a man laugh? Let Puritanism go. It had lost its hold. It had become an exaggerated pietism rather than a religion ; and exaggerated pietism soon becomes hypocrisy, because it is an affectation, and not a reality. Did God make men capable of laughter and yet call laughter a sin ? Is gaiety an offence against the divine order? men might have asked. It was not merely political change which produced these results : it was human nature which revolted against Puritanism, not merely the weakness or folly of human nature, but the simple human nature which claims the right to be joyous, which, seeing that God has made all things beautiful in their time, delights in beauty and in its religious emotions, and finds it fitting to make its worship beautiful also. The pendulum which had swung too far in one direction now 1685] THE REAL ENGLAND 297 swung too far in the other. The love of joy and beauty was abused and perverted even more than the practice of spiritual seriousness had been. The England of Charles II. appears a fickle England, for in a moment all was changed. One day she was speaking the sancti monious language of the Puritan, Bible phrases came quickly to the lip, the next day England was using the light language of the cavalier, and fashionable tongues vied with one another in profane jests and novel oaths. Nobles and prelates were turning Puritan speech into ridicule. England laughed at her former self, and was so ready to laugh that insolent buffoonery was accounted wit. All this looks capricious, but the explanation lies in the simple fact that the heart of England was no more with the Puritan than it was with Laud. There is a great deal of solid sense about Englishmen, 0f England they have a saving grace of humour, and ex- not with 1 & ° , ' . Extremes. tremes do not appeal to them ; but because they had laughed at the Puritan and enjoyed Butler's Hudibras, they did not therefore love the profanity and licentiousness of the gay sparks who gathered round the Merry Monarch. They accepted as caricature Butler's picture of the men who " prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks : Call fire, and sword, and desolation, A godly thorough reformation. Compound for sins they are inclined to, By damning those they have no mind to. Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage Their best and dearest friend, plum porridge." But they did not approve of Wycherley and Congreve. Puritanism with all its faults had bequeathed a legacy of 298 THE RESTORATION tu moral seriousness to England, which has never been wholly dissipated. What is true and morally precious does not pass away; but the rein had been held too tight. The suddenness of the change from the twang of the Puritan to the oath of the roysterer means that the pendulum of fashion had swung to the opposite extreme. It does not mean that the bulk of Englishmen loved either Puritan or roysterer. But sudden changes are not wholesome. The sober- thinking Englishman who hates extremes is slow in making up his mind, and his influence on public affairs Crueity.nary does not make itself felt at once. He speaks the last word, but till he speaks the reactionaries have their way, and their way is not usually wise. Of this the Restoration gives us examples. The flowing tide was with the King. He could afford to break faith. Solemn promises were set aside in deference to popular demands for vengeance. Men whose lives had been assured to them were dragged to the scaffold, and the scenes there were brutal in the extreme. The hanging and quartering were carried out with a vindictive delight, with a refinement of cruelty. Hugh Peters, one who had played an active part amongst the Triers, while waiting his turn to suffer, was compelled to look on while John Coke, another victim, was being quartered. To attend these hideous scenes was fashionable. Ladies gazed at them unabashed. Cruelty and self-indulgence are closely allied. Some there were in England who noticed what was taking place. Now fallen on evil times and exposed to rough jest and savage threat, Milton, from his house in Bunhill Fields, saw that violence and hate dwelt near to one another, and sang how " Chemosh, the obscene dread of Moab's sons," set up his lustful orgies " by the grove of Moloch — homicide, lust hard by hate." The wild riotousness of the times was hateful to the stern old poet. He heard and he feared the 1685] IRREVERENCE FASHIONABLE 299 wild sounds of the self-indulgent life which had now be come fashionable. Reverence for the laws of God was forgotten. It was Belial who was honoured in high places. ' ' In courts and palaces he also reigns And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury and outrage : and when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine." The temper of the time was not favourable to dis passionate treatment of difficulties, to concessions, or to compromise. Everybody wished a speedy settlement. It soon became evident that the Church of England had not lost her hold upon the affections of the people. The Prayer Book, which was the symbol alike of their ancient Christian heritage and of their repudiation of foreign tyranny, was still dear to the nation. On this point the House of Commons, which met in May, 1661, had no hesitation. Before July was half over they had declared for the restoration of the Prayer Book. The House represented the reaction. The Solemn League and Covenant, which, by the way, the King himself had once subscribed, was publicly burned. The Bishops were restored to the House of Lords. The receiving of the Holy Communion was again made obligatory on every member of the House of Commons. In order to weaken the Presbyterians, who were strong in the boroughs, this obligation was extended to the corporations. Only those who renounced the League, who declared that it was un lawful to take up arms against the King, and who received the Holy Communion, could hold any municipal office. The House was clearly in no mood for compromise, and this attitude doubtless influenced the Conference of Divines which assembled by the King's com- The Savoy mand for the purpose of considering the Conference. 300 THE RESTORATION [1660- possibility of compromise. It consisted of twelve bishops and twelve Puritan divines, with some assistants or deputies. It met in April, 1661, at the Savoy Palace, in the Strand, but it did not accomplish much. It must be admitted that neither side was in a very yielding mood, but it is not quite fair to represent the Conference as a farce, or to say that the alterations were made with a view to disgust rather than to conciliate the Puritan party. It is quite true that the Presbyterian divines were anxious to effect changes in the Prayer Book which would " win upon " the Presbyterians. It is also true that many of the changes suggested by them for the purpose did not appear to the Bishops likely to effect such an object. But changes were ultimately made, and made with the hope and purpose of peace. Four months were allowed for the Conference, but this limit was all too short, and when it had been reached, the only report which was made to the King was "That the Church's welfare, that unity and peace, and his Majesty's satisfaction, were ends on which they were all agreed, but as to the means they could not come to an harmony." Thus the question of the Liturgy had been considered by the Savoy Conference and by the House of Commons. The Prayer The House of Commons had settled matters Book Re- quickly ; the Savoy Conference had failed to 1 ' " z" settle anything. There were three other bodies also expected to give their opinions. These were the House of Lords, the Canterbury Convocation, and the York Convocation. The Canterbury and York Convoca tions united to consider the matter. The House of Lords, less impulsive than the House of Commons, determined to wait before taking action. The Convocations, on the 10th of October, received the King's letters ordering a revision of the Prayer Book, and before the end of December their work was finished. The House of Lords, 1685] PRAYER BOOK REVISION 301 though pressed by the House of Commons, did not act till the new year (1662) had come in. The next few months they were busy with Church matters. The Prayer Book as revised by the Convocations was put before both Houses of Parliament in the spring of the year. Certain alterations were made and approved, and at length in May it was accepted. The nature of the revised Prayer Book was a matter of national interest. Fears and suspicions were abroad. The dread of Roman and Puritan extremes was strong. For the moment the dislike of Puritanism was foremost, but men had not wholly forgotten the days of Laud, and the House of Commons watched the revision with a jealous eye. Their fears were not without justification. There were some who saw in the revision the chances of giving a stronger party complexion, to the Prayer Book. A de liberate effort was made to secure this, but partly through the good sense of Convocation, and partly through the vigilance of Parliament, the efforts of extremists were defeated. The revised Prayer Book reflected the dislike of erratic and irregular worship. It expressed a stronger sense of the importance of Church order. It preferred the word "church" to "congregation." It declared, without expressing any condemnation of others, in favour of episcopal ordination, but it refused to appear to sanction prayers for the dead, or to rest upon the intercession of saints ; and it re-inserted, though in more careful form, the rubric against any superstitious views of the Holy Communion. New collects were added, and minor changes were made. In one ex pression of a charitable judgment it grievously offended the Dissenters, for it affirmed that baptised infants who died before committing actual sin were certainly saved. Against this there were loud complaints, Richard Baxter, saint as he was, declaring that this one rubric was 302 THE RESTORATION [,66o- of itself enough to make conformity impossible. The revised Prayer Book thus finished was substantially the old Prayer Book which Englishmen had known and loved, and it is the Prayer Book which we now use. It carries on it the marks of the national and religious controversies of many generations, and, refusing the falsehood of ex tremes, has proved itself a helpful book of devotion to men of various minds, as the Prayer Book of Cosin and Reynolds, of Burnet and Ken, of Butler and Paley, of Charles Simeon and John Keble, of Dean Stanley and Canon Liddon. An Act of Uniformity was passed, with the new Prayer Book attached to it. That there might be no mistake as to subsequent versions of the Prayer Book, a few copies were carefully compared with the one attached to the Act of Uniformity. These copies were sealed as a sign of their correctness and sent to the cathedrals, law courts, and the Tower. These are known as the sealed books ; they are the authentic copies of the Prayer Book, to which all printed copies ought to conform. It is worth remem bering this, and also that some of the Prayer Books in circulation to-day are not accurate copies of the sealed books. Thus the work of Convocation and Parliament in this matter was finished. The Act of Uniformity required every clergyman to use the new book on and after St. Bartholomew's Day, August 24th, 1662. More than this, it also required that every clergyman should declare his unfeigned assent, and consent to everything in the new book. Probably all that was intended was to secure the use of the Prayer Book, but the phrasing of the declaration appeared to involve approval of all that it contained ; and in this respect the requirement was both harsh and unwise. Many of the clergy who had accepted benefices under the Commonwealth were more or less Puritan in their sympathies. Some were quite ready to accept and to use i685] ACT OF UNIFORMITY 303 the liturgy, but they could hardly be expected to approve personally of everything that was in it. It was a foolish policy to increase the difficulty of these men. Many of them were men of piety and loyalty, holding important benefices in London and the country ; they were renowned in the universities for their learning, and in their parishes for their activity. The Church was weakened by the loss of men like Howe and Owen, Baxter and Philip Henry. One incident of this time ought to be told. The greatest Hebrew scholar of the day was John Lightfoot, the Master of Catharine Hall, Cambridge. Lightfoot, who had been given the mastership of the college in Puritan times, freely resigned the post to Dr. Spurstow, the former Master, when the restoration took place; and only when Dr. Spurstow refused to accept it did Lightfoot apply to the King to confirm him in his mastership. It is pleasant to read of such chivalrous conduct in days more cavalier than chivalrous. I have said that the loss of a large number of good and pious men was to be regretted ; but to understand and judge fairly we must remember that toleration Toleration was not yet understood. We must not read not yet the story as though the Church party repre- understood- sented religious intolerance and the Puritan party re ligious freedom. The strongest opponent of the Bishops at the Savoy Conference was Richard Baxter ; but at that time even Baxter was not in favour of a general compre hension of all the sects. The whole drift of public opinion was on the side of conformity to an authoritative order. More than this ; it favoured a liturgy. The abolition of liturgical services was never thought of, and even the Presbyterians when in power put forward a liturgy of their own. The question broadly speaking was concerning the Book of Common Prayer. The Bishops took the defensive line; they were, generally speaking, contented with the 304 THE RESTORATION [1660- Book as it stood. They believed that the nation was satisfied with it ; they threw the burden of proof upon the objectors. If these were dissatisfied, it was for them to establish their objections. Whether this was the most sagacious or most magnanimous attitude to adopt is hardly the question. We can all be wise after the event. The point to be remembered is that at the time it was hardly possible to have expected anything else. The actors of that age were taking part in what was a restoration. The pendulum had swung back towards the state of things before the civil war. If the nation wished a restoration, and had emphatically declared for such a restoration in Church and State, it was for those who wished for any modification of the former state of things to give good and valid reasons. The Independents might reasonably have pleaded for toleration, as they had been its champions, but the Independents were now everywhere discredited. The Presbyterians had shown no disposition for toleration when power was in their hands. As a principle they had denounced it as sinful. " I did so little like a universal toleration that I have oft said . . . that if the King offered me any liberty, upon condition that I would consent that Papists, Quakers, and all other wicked sects should name theirs also, I think I should never have agreed to it." These words of Adam Martindale represent the tone and temper of the times. It would have been better had larger views prevailed. The presence of a more Christian temper would prob ably have averted evils and conducted to a nobler future, but we are still confronted by the plain and incontestable fact that the minds of men on both sides were not ripe for larger views. Had the victory been in Puritan hands, no more comprehensive scheme would have been forth coming. It was to be reserved for another generation to understand toleration; and we, who see how little the 1685] CHURCH TEACHERS 305 spirit and teaching of Christ are understood among ourselves, may learn lessons from the past, but should be slow to criticise too harshly the men who lived two hundred years ago. The years which followed the passing of the Act of Uniformity and the issue of the finally revised Prayer Book were like a day in which brightness and cloud contend with one another. The harshness with church"116 which uniformity was insisted upon ; the rough and hard measures which disgraced the Statute Book and the Church ; the unfortunate support which the Church gave at the close of the reign to doctrines of royal abso lutism, are dark clouds of those times. On the other hand, the Church showed to the generation which lived in the last forty years of the seventeenth century, an array of devoted and learned men whose names are still fragrant in history. Jeremy Taylor, Isaac Barrow, and South were her preachers, Pearson and Bull expounded her creeds and defended her bulwarks. Stilhngfleet maintained her reputation for learning, and Whichcote and Henry More exemplified the power of reflective piety. Ken gave voice to her devotion, but he did more ; he was able to impress the libertinism of the King. With a courage rare in days of adulation, he refused to countenance the immorality of Charles by letting Nell Gwynn pass a night under his roof. It was an age of great divines, but it was not an age of wholly satisfactory parish work. Men were tempted to speak with self-complacent satisfaction of the state of the Church ; but there was one man, a single-minded, learned, and devout son of the Church, who heard such words with misgiving. He thought that with regard to doctrine, con science, and government the Church of England was, as people said, "the best constituted Church in the world," but he could not say the same when he looked at the state of the parishes and the ecclesiastical courts. This 306 THE RESTORATION [1660- was Robert Leighton, at one time Archbishop of Glasgow, who spent the last two years of his life doing good in Sussex. To him this well -constituted Church needed among its clergy more strictness of morals, more spiritual depth, and greater laboriousness of life. The cause of this defective state of things was twofold. First there was the difficulty of supplying fit and worthy men for the hundreds of benefices from which the Nonconformists had been ejected. Then again the spirit of reaction against Puritan strictness showed itself in the. Church. Spiritual experiences which had been vulgarised by the Puritans were now scoffed at and ignored. The religious life be came in many cases shallow and official. The age of the essay succeeded that of the prolonged experimental sermon. The Church had gained in order, but it had thrust out men who, with all their faults and unreasonableness, had been powerful influences for good. The Act of Uniformity expressed the triumph of the Church, and the fall of Puritanism. Puritanism fell be cause it did not correspond with the national Mistakes of Gnaracter_ That character loves order as well as the Church. freedom, but Puritanism broke continuity with the past without securing religious freedom. The Church of England did not, any more than Puritanism, promote toleration, but she did maintain continuity with the past. To her divines, at the moment, this seemed of great im portance. No doubt it was so, but in her loyalty to the past she was blind to the future. She was no longer, as in earlier times, fighting for existence, for her position was now secure ; it would have been politic to have been more tolerant, but she failed to realise the significance of the forces at work in English life. She could not read the signs of the times. Having won a victory, she did not scruple to take with eager hand the spoils of war. She believed that by vigorous intolerance Nonconformity could 1685] PERSECUTING ACTS 307 be stamped out. No doubt it may be argued that what the church did, Puritans would have done had the victory been in their hands, but the policy was none the less short sighted. It sacrificed the future to the cheap success of the hour. The Nonconformists fell on evil days. In the early part of the reign the House of Commons and the Church were united in enforcing uniformity. The House of Perse *. Commons was eager to act vigorously, and the of Noncon- clergy showed themselves ready to stir up Parlia- formists- ment to action. Oppressive Acts were passed, which em bittered and embarrassed the Dissenters, as they were now called. There were three such Acts. The first Conventicle Act, the Five Mile Act, and the Second Conventicle Act. The First Conventicle Act interfered with re- First ligious meetings in a man's house. If five Conventicle people in addition to the family assembled for ct' l664' religious service, it was an illegal meeting. All persons over sixteen years of age attempting it were liable to fine and imprisonment, and on a third conviction to banish ment. The Five Mile Act made it penal for any Nonconformist minister to come within j££ ^f five miles of any city, or of any place where he had formerly ministered, unless he had first taken an oath declaring it to be unlawful to take up arms against the sovereign, and swearing not to take any steps to change the government of Church and State. The second Second Conventicle Act (1670) lessened the Conventicle penalties, but it introduced a bribe to traitors, c ' " 7"' for informers were, by its provision, to receive a share of the fines. This culminating shame was approved by the Primate, Gilbert Sheldon, who called on the clergy to enforce the Act which was in his eyes likely to promote "the glory of God, the welfare of the Church, and the praise of his Majesty and Government." 308 THE RESTORATION [1660- Acts like these were not likely to produce any good, even had strong measures been more necessary than they were. They wrought harm when they were put Baxter*1 m force) w'tn little regard for humanity, against a man as distinguished and devout as Richard Baxter. There was no touch of regret and no tint of shame on the part of his persecutors. The magistrate rated the aged divine as though he had been a common thief. The old man bore himself meekly and bravely. The wisdom of threescore years and ten was in his bosom. He had knowledge of a Divine Presence which made him patient. He had learned in a life full of change to be largely tolerant. Things for which he had been ready to fight in his younger and rasher days appeared to him insignificant now. He realised that men may enjoy the support of mother earth without quarrelling about the plants which they are severally cultivating. He was happy in living to a good old age and seeing the dawn of better and more tolerant times. Some sense of shame touched the public conscience in the sad years of the Plague. This terrible foe swept down upon London in 1665. The fashionable world 1665 aEfUe' ^ed- Parliament elected to secure its safety by meeting at Oxford. Conspicuous among those who courageously ministered to the sick were the perse cuted Nonconformist ministers. Christian piety triumphed over the sense of personal injury, and these devoted men worked alongside the parish clergy in that time of dark ness. Startled by the spectacle of such magnanimous patriotism and Christ-like devotion, the authorities relaxed the application of existing penalties; but Parliament safe sixty miles away had less compunction, and it was while the companions of Baxter were carrying comfort to the plague-stricken people of London that the Five Mile Act was passed at Oxford. i685] THE CAMBRIDGE SCHOOL 309 We must not, however, suppose that all English Church men were committed to a policy of intolerance. A school of men had arisen in the Church of England The Cam. who were too thoughtful to be immediately bridge influential. They belonged to that class of Schco1' men who cannot join in party cries, and who see what an exaggerated importance is often attached to trifles. Some people will tell you that they did not realise the importance of things really important, and that they were ready to sacrifice some great religious principles. This certainly was not the case with the best men of the group in question. They were men who, generally speaking, looked deeper than their fellows. They saw that the Calvinist viewed his pet theories as indispensable parts of the Gospel. They saw that the Romanist had first added much to Christianity, and had then called his additions essential to faith. They saw, on both sides of the con troversies between Episcopalians and Presbyterians, a hard, unyielding disposition. They hoped for a better state of things. They were neither stiff Churchmen nor stiff Puritans; they were men who studied, and who brought a calm and philosophic spirit into their studies. They had faith in truth, but not in tests ; they realised the value of mental freedom, and they distrusted a policy of rigid conformity. All parties were at one in divorcing philosophy from religion ; the Puritan no less than the Episcopalian, the religious no less than the philosophical thinker. The new thinkers saw the danger of this divorce. In their view truth was one, and could not contradict itself. The dogma tism of the Puritan arose out of his neglect of the philo sophical side of truth. "The idolatry of the world hath been about the medium of worship, not about the object of worship." Their opponents found a nickname for them. They called them Latitudinarians. This term was applied at different times in different ways. The man who was 310 THE RESTORATION [1660- before his time in desiring toleration was a Latitudinarian in the view of those who loved intolerance. In this way Jeremy Taylor was regarded as a Latitudinarian. At a later time the term was applied to those who desired to increase the comprehensiveness of the Church by abolishing subscription. At the time, however, of which we are speaking, it was applied to the thoughtful men whom I have described. They numbered among them men like Henry More, whose works were so popular that for twenty years after the Restoration they are said to have ruled the booksellers of London ; like Whichcote, who, with sagacious spiritual foresight, maintained principles which Bishop Westcott declares "do not require to be modified at the present day, but to be applied more widely " ; like Stilhngfleet, Tillotson, and Patrick, names venerable for their learning, liberality, and large-heartedness. Under the auspices of this new school some efforts at what would to-day be called reunion were made. Conferences were held with the Dissenters with the view of arranging a plan of comprehension, but all hopes of this were checked by the action of the House of Commons, which declined to consider any scheme (1668). The later years of the reign brought changed views. The House of Commons began to see the unwisdom of Changed passing harsh measures against the Dissenters. Policy in the In the earlier days of the reign the King, be cause of his Roman Catholic leanings, posed as desirous of toleration. He was willing to tolerate the Protestant Nonconformists in order that he might tolerate the Roman Nonconformists. Parliament took the opposite line ; it would not tolerate any Nonconformists because it dreaded the toleration of anything Roman. The King, who had resolved, as he said, " not to go again travelling," was therefore compelled to sanction laws, which pressed hardly on both classes of Nonconformist. .Later on the less] THE KING DISTRUSTED 311 situation was changed. Parliament became aware of the constant Roman intrigues which the King favoured. It realised that the grievances of Protestant Nonconformists served to strengthen the Romanist party. Hence Parlia ment changed its policy. A Bill was passed giving wide toleration (1673). In the Lords, however, the superb impolicy of the Church leaders showed itself. The Bishops opposed the Bill; the Lords threw it out; and a blunder was committed the ill effects of which remain to this hour. The signs of coming tempest might perhaps have been read by the enlightened men of the age, but the govern ment of affairs was in the hands of men who were blinded by bigotry and passion and self- theK"n' ° indulgence. The conduct of the King was cowardly and unpatriotic. He wished to keep his throne, but, short of risking this, he was willing to do anything, though it might jeopardise the liberties or lower the prestige of England. His greedy hand caught at foreign bribes, and his sensual nature made him oblivious of the duty and dignity of King. The right to do what he pleased was very dear to him, and like most self-indulgent men, when thwarted, he could be cruel. The theory of hereditary right was still largely held by the clergy of the Church of England, many of whom preached the doctrine of passive obedience. But a very different view, familiar to many in England, was soon to become popular. The rumours of Romish intrigue grew, and were strengthened by the fact that the heir to the throne, the Duke of York, himself a Romanist, had married a Roman Catholic princess. It was notorious that he himself was a bigoted Romanist. The people dreaded alike the tyranny of Rome and that which might result from the abuse of the King's prerogative, and thus the theory of passive obedience was Dread of being slowly undermined.- The King issued a Rome- ; - 312 THE RESTORATION [1660- Declaration of Indulgence (1672). This was a declara tion of toleration to all religious bodies, and was a bribe to the Dissenters. Parliament replied to the King by affirming that no such indulgence could be granted save by consent of Parliament. The King knew when to give way, and he did so now ; but Parliament was in earnest, and its fears were expressed in the Test Act. This Act passed in T673, required every one who held any public office to swear allegiance, to accept the supremacy, to disavow the doctrine of transubstantiation, and to receive the Holy Communion. The Dissenters, believing that the principles of freedom were being threatened by the King, acquiesced in the bill. This was a severe measure, for it excluded Roman Catholics from office, and the Duke of York was obliged to resign his post as admiral of the fleet. But it cannot be pretended that the danger was unreal when we know that Charles had, by treaty, agreed to support Louis XIV. in his Roman Catholic policy, and to avow himself a Roman Catholic when he could con veniently do so. It is said that Charles never intended to act upon this promise. This may be the case; it is quite possible that the King was insincere. He was morally base enough for that, but, whether sincere or insincere, he could not blame English statesmen if they believed that he was capable of keeping his promise when it was his interest to do so. The intrigues of the King exposed him to trouble. The bolder disregard of public opinion shown by his brother added to the popular dis trust. The popularity of Monmouth, the demagogue arts of Shaftesbury, and the discovery of the so-called Popish plot, threw the country into feverish excitement. An unscrupulous man named Titus Oates declared that a plot was on foot to murder King Charles and secure Popish supremacy by placing the Duke Of York upon the throne. The murder of the magistrate who heard Oates' 1685] WHIG AND TORY 313 depositions was accepted popularly as evidence of the existence of the plot. Oates' story was a fabrication, but it increased the prevalent alarm. The House of Commons passed the Exclusion Bill, which excluded the Duke of York from the succession. The King, dreading the voice of the House, issued a proclamation which disarmed the rising fears of some, who thought that the King meant well, and that the House of Commons had gone too far. The Tory and Whig parties now came into existence — the party of the King and the party of the Parliament ; the party of prerogative and divine right, and the party of Parliamentary control. There was a T,Q^y3'and reaction in the King's favour, and the Church threw its weight upon his side. This reaction preserved the succession to the Duke of York, for before it had time^ to ebb away King Charles II. died, leaving behind him the reputation of gaiety and tngaKi° ability, for no man ever so artfully managed to combine the maximum of popularity with the minimum of principle. CHAPTER XXVII. JAMES II. i 685- I 689 There were many in the Church of England who believed in the divine, or at least, in the hereditary right of kings. The prevalence of this belief secured for King for the^Lg James the support of many who distrusted his character and his intentions. Such people had been brought up in a deep reverence for the office of King, who was regarded as the responsible and splendid embodiment of authority. Constitutional government, as we now know it, was as yet undeveloped. The problem of government was still working itself out, and it is not surprising to find that many misunderstandings should prevail. It is not wonderful to find that those, who had seen how power had lapsed through popular discord into military rule, should view the throne as the guarantee of order. To live in a realm of order was, to many, more desirable than to live in a freedom which was liable to degenerate into disorder. These men, like Ken, saw in the populace the fickle crowd " Precipitous, usurping force to crown, Precipitous next day to pull it down." Civil war, moreover, seemed imminent, and to avoid the horror of this they thought it wise to support authority. Their religious feelings found warrant for this in those passages of the Bible which bid men "honour the king." 3'4 1685-89] THE KING'S IMPOLICY 315 Viewing the monarch through the mists of a beautiful ideal, they invested the sovereign with a splendour half religious and half poetical. There was a divinity which hedged the King, gave him virtue, and shielded him from the weaknesses to which unaided human nature was liable. Charles II. did more, perhaps, than anyone to shake this confidence. It was difficult even for the most obsequious believer in divine right not to notice how truly of clay were the feet of their idol. But still, for the nation's sake, men were willing to believe in an official sanctity of the kingly office, even when personal grossness made them aware how earthly the sovereign was. If King Charles II. shattered one half of the dream, James II. shattered the other. Men might reverence kingly office even after they had ceased to respect the sovereign personally, but when a sovereign appeared who seemed bent upon using his office for the sake of violating all that the sovereign was bound by oath and honour to protect, the most obstinate Royalist was sorely tried. It was the misfortune of King James that he seemed determined to alienate the very men to whom he owed most. The strong Royalist proclivities of the Church of England had secured to him the 7mpoUcyBS throne, but against the Church of England he directed his attacks. In doing so, he did more for the popularity of the Church and the undoing of himself than the worst enemy of Church and King could have done. The story of his short reign is the story of the intrepidity of English bishops and the resolution of the nation against Romanism. The King was a Romanist, and he determined to Romanise all that he could. The instrument which he selected was one which a more prudent sovereign would have hesitated to use. There were warnings from the past that Englishmen resented the exercise of arbitrary power, 316 JAMES II. [1685- but James determined to promote Romanism by the use of the royal prerogative. He succeeded to the throne in 1685. When Parliament met in November the King informed the Houses that he had set aside the Test Act. He had appointed mistake* certain officers to the army who by the Test Act were not qualified for such offices ; in other words, he had used his dispensing power to negative an Act of Parliament. Both Houses remonstrated. In the House of Lords Compton, the Bishop of London, led the remonstrance. He spoke, he said, for his brethren. The King's action endangered the constitution in Church and State. The King fell back upon the old Stuart plan. Parliament had become disagreeable. Parliament was prorogued ; but the opposition was very strong. It was needful that the King should find supporters, and accord ingly blandishments and personal persuasions were resorted to. Closetings, as they were called, began. Men open to influence were introduced to the King in private, but the. King, wishing to have some show of legal right, desired to have a judicial pronouncement in his favour. He made no pretence of wishing to ascertain the law. He ¦e«ly' wanted Amen who could echo his wishes. "I am deter mined," he said, "to have twelve judges who will be all of my mind in this matter." "Your Majesty may find twelve judges of your mind," answered Chief Justice Jones, " but hardly twelve lawyers." The judges deferential enough were found. A case was got up, and the complacent judges decided for the King. He could, they said, by virtue of his prerogative set aside the law. The King was delighted and he began to act. He set aside the law with a generous hand. All conditions which Hfs the law had made with regard to the holding attempt to of office were ignored* and the nation noticed with alarm that the royal prerogative was used 1689] THE KING FAVOURS ROMANISM 317 mainly for the benefit of Romanists. The Chapel Royal at St. James became a Roman Catholic place of worship. Benedictine monks swarmed in the palace. The oaths and declarations by which the Church had fenced itself against Roman error were swept aside by the fiat of the King, and men who openly avowed themselves Romanists were allowed by dispensation to hold posts which they had accepted as conforming clergy of the Church of England. Thus a clergyman named Sclater celebrated the Holy Communion in the usual way on one Sunday, and within a week he blossomed into a Roman Catholic ; and the amazed parishioners discovered that the King's prerogative meant that the whole Church could be revo lutionised, and wake up to find itself Roman. The King went further. He not only confirmed in their benefices men who had trampled upon their most sacred promises ; but also deliberately selected avowed Romanists for ecclesiastical preferment. He conferred the deanery of Christ Church, Oxford, on one named John Massey, and thus, without the sanction of Church or State, Romanism was established in the cathedral of Oxford. The King contemplated acting in the same way with regard to the bishoprics. " I wished," he said in reference to the bishopric of Oxford, " to appoint a Catholic, but the time is not come." The time had not come. The time never did come, for the King had made a fatal misreckoning. He had calculated that the Church, which had sacri- The ficed so much in her loyalty to the throne, Resistance of was lacking in moral force, and might be te urc ' treated as the creature of his will. He did not realise that in the bosom of her sons there was, notwithstanding the dislike of Puritan extremes, a stout heart still against the errors of Rome. Men might accuse a bishop like Ken of a hankering after Rome because he ordered his 318 JAMES II. [1685- life after a somewhat ascetic rule or used phrases redolent of Catholic devotion, but when the time of testing came the essential Protestantism of the Church of England awoke, not the noisy Protestantism of the ignorant which delights in bigotry and battle cries, but the Protestantism which was all the stronger against Rome because it knew and understood true catholicity, and could give a reason for the hope that was in it. This spirit, which saw in the Reformation a wholesome re version to scriptural and primitive faith, now sprang into zealous and patriotic activity. The King was dismayed and surprised to find that the clergy of England had convictions, could speak, and speak with the voice which was that alike of the Church and of the nation. The pulpits resounded with expositions of the Reformed faith. The errors of Rome were publicly refuted. It was no mere " No Popery " howl. It was the conscientious effort of men who desired to warn their flocks against dangers which came armed with royal support and Jesuit intrigue. Ken, the devout, peace-loving, cultured Ken, was fore most in this effort. His preaching drew thousands as he led men's minds to dwell on what they owed to the Reformation, and to realise how needful it was to cleave to that faith which their forefathers had won back for them. The King sought to silence the clergy. He wished the Archbishop to restrain them from preaching about Roman- Attempt to lsm> while his own Roman Catholic allies were silence the everywhere teaching Romish doctrine. Arch bishop Sancroft, a man of timid disposition, endeavoured to meet the King's wishes, but the Church was alive to its duty, and bishops and clergy alike refused to be muzzled by royal order. The King, however, was determined. He wished to silence the Church. He ordered Compton, Bishop of 1689] GROWING DISCONTENT 319 London, to suspend Sharp, the Dean of Norwich, who had preached against Roman errors. Compton refused, where upon the King revived the Court of High Commission, packed it with creatures of his own, and the court took upon itself to suspend Compton. When these things were done, and people saw that the King was set upon silencing all but those of his own religion, they realised what dangers threatened their freedom and their faith. We may perhaps wonder at the patience of the people, but early in the King's reign, within a few months of James's accession, two things had happened which Events which strengthened the position of the King. These strengthened were two invasions, one in Scotland under ' e mg' Argyle, the other in the west of England under Monmouth. Both Argyle and Monmouth appeared as champions of the Nonconformists. Both attempts failed. Argyle and Monmouth both perished on the scaffold, the one with the calm fortitude of a religious enthusiast, the other with the baseness of a cowardly nature. These attempts to upset the existing government created a certain sentiment in favour of the King. But on the other hand the cruelties which followed, and which have made the name of Jeffreys a proverb for all time, served to deepen the distrust and disgust which were growing in the country. Therefore when in 1686 the King, for whom Englishmen had fought against Monmouth, showed that he was reckless of their wishes, and was set upon robbing them of liberty, deep discontent spread. The King's -Discontent. policy in Scotland and Ireland added to the general distrust. In Scotland he used his power to set aside the laws as he had done in England, and alienated the Episcopalians as well as the Covenanters. In Ireland he chose to be represented by "Lying Dick Talbot," the Earl of Tyrconnel, who, going there to redress the grievances of the Irish Roman Catholic population, acted 320 JAMES II. [1685- as a partisan, and showed that Englishmen and Protestants could expect neither justice nor favour at his hands. The King grew bolder in his bigoted policy. He no longer claimed merely the right to dispense with laws and Declaration to employ Roman Catholics; but he even of indulgence, intimated that his ministers must conform to his religion. Thus he bluntly told Rochester that he must change his faith or he could no longer hold office. Rochester refused, and was dismissed. These things became known, and the King was profoundly distrusted. Everything which he did created suspicion. This was the case with his famous Declaration of Indulgence. This Declaration was a specious and plausible one. It pro claimed liberty of conscience; it surrendered the attempt to secure uniformity; it declared that no man should be persecuted for conscience sake, for conscience was free and could not be forced. By this Declaration the penal laws were, on the King's sole authority, repealed. The tests settled by Parliament were to be no longer necessary. The Nonconformists, who had suffered privation and im prisonment, were now to be free to worship God as they wished. In itself it was a fitting and right decree, but it was soon perceived to be a bribe to win the alliance of the Dissenters. The nation was not deceived. It was a rank exercise of arbitrary power, and the power so used to bring gifts to-day might bring servitude to-morrow. Some few Nonconformists presented addresses of thanks to the King for the Declaration ; but the bulk of them declined this illegal gift. Strenuous efforts were made to get the clergy of the Church to present such addresses, but the most skilful and unscrupulous manipulation could only^roduce^so few that the silence of the vast majority' of the clergy became the more significant. The sense of common danger drew Churchmen and Non conformists together. The Churchman realised that the royal 1689] KING'S ARBITRARY CONDUCT 321 prerogative was a dangerous weapon; the Nonconformist perceived that freedom won by such weapons was but a perilous freedom at the best. Both alike believed that the King was bent upon forcing his own religion upon the country. The summer of 1687 brought strange and startling evidence of this. At Bath and at Oxford James showed his resolution. There was a popular super- Th stition that the touch of the King's hand could Outrages banish scrofula, known as the King's Evil. Publ|c Charles II. touched, it is said, some 100,000 persons. Medals of gold were struck to commemorate the cures, and as much as £1 0,000 was spent in some years on these medals. The Church of England, in common with other bodies, believed in this nonsense, and provided a special service for the touching. James II. held a service of touching at Bath Abbey, but the service of the Established Church was laid aside, and a Popish one substituted. Jesuit priests officiated, and the intercession of the Virgin was besought. The people of the west were aghast. Bishop Ken, whose position as Bishop, of Bath and Wells was ignored, seems to have been stupefied with surprise. James was fast digging the pit for himself. He thrust his spade in at . „ , tl , _ ,. , , , , , , , At Oxford. Bath. At Oxford he made the hole deeper. One of the first objects which meet our view as we enter Oxford from the east is the beautiful tower of Magdalen College. This college was the point of King James's next attack upon liberty. The mastership was vacant, and he ordered the Fellows to elect Anthony Farmer, a Roman Catholic. The Fellows refused, and elected a Dr. Hough. The King, through the Court of High Commission, sus pended Dr. Hough and two of the Fellows, but by his visit to Oxford he hoped to settle the matter, and now ordered the Fellows to elect Parker, Bishop of Oxford, who was 322 JAMES II. [1685- believed to be secretly a Romanist. The Fellows refused. Again the Court of High Commission was set in motion. Force was used. Parker was installed by proxy. The Fellows maintained their freedom and refused to recognise Parker, whereupon the Court deprived all the Fellows except two. It was now the late autumn of 1687. The winter wore through amidst suspicion and increasing dis content. The spring of 1688 brought the Bishops"io88 CT1S^S- The King issued again the Declaration of Indulgence, and this time he ordered the Declaration to be read on two successive Sundays in church. In the view of many the Declaration was illegal. To read it was to accept the principle that the King could set aside the laws made by Parliament. The Bishops met to consider the matter. Seven who were within reach assembled at Lambeth, and there resolved to face the responsibilities of the position themselves, and so protect as far as possible the parochial clergy. They drew up a petition to the King, begging him not to insist on the reading of the Declaration. They pointed out that the Church of England had ever been loyal, that their aversion to publishing the Declaration arose neither out of lack of loyalty to the King, nor out of lack of tender ness towards the Nonconformists, but from the fact that the dispensing power claimed by the Declaration had been declared illegal, and that therefore they could not "in prudence, honour, or conscience, make themselves parties to it." Having drawn up the petition, they showed no want of courage, but went straight — it was ten o'clock at night — and requested an audience with the King. The Petition. Rmg> who expected some complacent and grateful address, admitted them. He opened the petition : he recognised the Primate's handwriting. He proceeded to read, but as he read the cloud darkened on THE SEVEN BISHOPS. From an original contemporary engraving by R. White. To /ace p. 322. i689] THE SEVEN BISHOPS 323 his countenance. "This is a standard of rebellion," he said ; " it is a sounding of Sheba's trumpet." The Bishops declared that they had no intention of disloyalty. Ken said courageously that he hoped the King would give them the liberty he allowed to all others. The King said that he would have the Declaration published. " We will honour you, but we must fear God," said Ken and Tre- lawney. " I will be obeyed," said the King. " God's will be done," was the reply. It was now a matter beyond compromise. The Bishops had taken their stand, and the people soon knew it. The petition which the Bishops had presented was printed and circulated. The country learned stI^1K.„ie that the Bishops, men known for their retiring and meek character, had stood for conscience sake against the King's decree. The country was with the Bishops. Out of the thousands of the clergy only two hundred read the Declaration. The King, blind to the signs of growing storm, resorted to coercion, and summoned the Bishops before the Council. They were supported by the best advice, and they stood upon their legal rights. They refused to commit them selves by answering incriminating questions, and were ordered to enter into recognizances to appear for trial at Westminster Hall. It was the very thing needed to excite popular sympathy; they now appeared as sufferers in the popular cause. The river banks were crowded with spec tators as the barge conveyed them down the Thames. The river swarmed with boats crowded with sympathisers, greetings and encouragements were heard on all sides. They landed at the Traitors' Gate, and so they passed ' ' On through that gate misnamed, through which before Went Sidney, Russell, Raleigh, Cranmer, More." As they entered the very guards asked their blessing. 324 JAMES II. [1685- Crowds gathered on Tower Hill and gazed upon the gloomy walls which enclosed the seven English Church men, who now represented a nation's cause. The trial took place the next week. The eyes of the whole country were turned towards Westminster Hall. The King showed no signs of relenting. The the^ishops ^aw which he had invoked must take its course. With mad blindness he mistook obstinacy for strength. " I will go on," he said. " I have been only too indulgent : indulgence ruined my father." He did not, however, rely on firmness only, but he resorted to craft, and gave orders to the Clerk of the Crown to summon for the jury, as far as possible, men favourable to the King. Everything was done that could be done to ensure a verdict against the Bishops. The issue before the jury was, after some legal fencing, the simple one, "Was the petition presented by the Bishops a false, malicious, and seditious libel?" If so, the right of honest approach to the sovereign was reduced to a sham. This was the issue left, as Powell said in addressing the jury, "to God and their consciences." The jury spent the whole night in considering their verdict. At ten o'clock in the June morning the sunlight flooded the old Hall, and lighted up the faces of the anxious crowd who watched the jurymen as they filed back into their places. The question was asked in breathless silence. The answer came " Not guilty." One man, who had worked hard for the good cause of freedom, leapt up and gave the first signal of a people's joy. In an instant the roar of free voices rolled against the rafters, and was heard outside. Swift messen gers carried the news into the country. The bells were set ringing. The people thronged round the Bishops and overwhelmed them, grasping their hands and pouring forth grateful words : " God bless you." " You have done like honest gentlemen." " You have saved us all to-day." So 1689] THE VICTORY OF THE BISHOPS 325 the whole city was filled with the sound of joyful voices. Never was such joy heard before. But that day, hardly noticed by the shouting and re joicing multitudes, there passed through the streets and out of the town a messenger, who bore the fate of the King in his bosom. The very hour SukLmI when the people shouted with joy over the ver dict which set the Bishops free the knell of King James's reign sounded. The messenger went out with the invitation from seven leading members of both Whig and Tory parties, which was to bring William of Orange to the shores of England. The King had assailed the faith and freedom of England. These she would never surrender. The King might go, but these should never go. The shouts in the streets that day were not over the Bishops' release; they were over the fall of the King. The King, who was at the camp at Hounslow Heath, heard the cheers and asked what they meant. He was told that it was nothing — only the joy of the people that the Bishops were acquitted. "Do you call that nothing?" he asked. And then he added, "So much the worse for them." But the country knew that it was so much the worse for the King, for that day had uncrowned him in the nation's heart. CHAPTER XXVIII. WILLIAM AND MARY 1689-1702 The verdict which acquitted the seven Bishops was given in the end, of June. Before the year closed James was a fugitive. The history of the intervening six ^'despair65 months is the history of vacillation ending in despair. The enthusiasm of the people was followed by disquieting rumours. William of Orange had been invited to come over. He was cqming. He had gathered a fleet, and was about to sail. So the reports ran. At last Louis XIV. warned his friend and ally James II. that the invasion was imminent. When the enemy was knocking at the gate King James began to seek for wisdom. He made desperate concessions. The Bishops when summoned for consultation gave him good counsel, but they would not commit themselves to a blind surrender of their judgment, and advised him to summon Parliament. In his trepidation he now tried to undo some of his mistakes by dissolving the Ecclesiastical Commission, and giving orders for the reinstating of the Magdalen Fellows. It was too late. He might take counsel with whom he would, but he was only jeopardising the popu larity of those whom he called to his side. The hour of action had come. The winds which for a while delayed the Dutch fleet were now favourable. Conferences must end. The squires and yeomen of Devon and Somerset 326 i689-i702] WILLIAM ARRIVES 327 were looking for the ships which were to bring assured freedom to England. At length in November, on the anniversary of the Gun powder Plot, the Prince of Orange dropped Arrival of anchor in Torbay ; and Englishmen read on the Prince of the flag which floated from the masthead the °j;anf^Nov' 5tll, 1600, welcome pledge embroidered in letters that all could see, "The liberties of England and the Protestant religion I will maintain." " The hero comes to liberate, not defy ; And, while he marches on with stedfast hope, Conqueror beloved ! expected anxiously ! The vacillating Bondman of the Pope Shrinks from the verdict of his stedfast eye." The arrival of William tested the feeling of the country, and proved" to King James how slender was the hold he now had upon the alienated hearts of Englishmen. One after another deserted him. The Princess Anne retired with Lady Churchill and the Bishop of London to Nottingham. "God help me," said the King; "my own children have forsaken me." Perhaps he remembered then that his father had solemnly charged him, on his blessing, not to forsake the faith of the national Church. He had alienated the hearts of the most loyal men who had cherished an almost exaggerated reverence for his throne. They would not have forsaken him if he had not first forsaken the faith, the Church, and the freedom which he was in all honour bound to maintain. The Bishops whom King James had summoned to his council were placed in a difficult position. One at least of them had signed the invitation of welcome to the Prince of Orange. In the painful weeks Ki'rfgjames. of the early winter, while James, with all the contradictory vacillations of a weak and desperate man, was trying to assure himself that his cause was not yet 328 WILLIAM AND MARY [1689- lost, they were exposed to the cross-questionings of the King and the suspicions of the people. The weeks wore through. James hesitated, fled, returned, and finally, urged by messages which echoed his own fears, left the country. A week before Christmas William entered London, and the Revolution was an accomplished fact. In January, 1689, King James was declared to have vacated the throne. William and Mary were proclaimed joint sovereigns. King' James and his party, however, had not given up hope, even though the Parliament had accepted William of Orange; for there still remained in England Jacobite sympathisers, and Tory malcontents who might become Jacobites. In the highlands of Scotland were still those whose attachment to the Stuarts survived the experience of faithlessness and neglect. Moreover, the violence of the Scotch people against the Episcopalian clergy, who were hated as the tools of Stuart tyranny, had turned a great deal of popular sympathy away from the revolution. The clergy were "rabbled," as it was called, and driven from their houses. Thus King James could reckon on a certain friendly feeling in the north, but it was in Ireland that his real hopes lay. Here he not only strove to utilise race and religious feeling on his own behalf, but he could reckon, moreover, on French help. Supported there by race animosity, religious hatred, and foreign aid, he hoped to strike a blow against England and against its faith. He had already prepared the way. Englishmen had been dismissed from positions of trust, and all offices of influence had been filled with Romanists. After the revolution, in 1688, a pretence of loyalty to King William was kept up for a time ; but when Tyrconnel, whom James had appointed Lord Deputy in r687, felt himself strong enough, he threw off all disguise. The signal arranged beforehand was given. The Romanists sprang to arms. The Pro testant population had to defend themselves as best they i702] SIEGE OF LONDONDERRY 329 could, for King William could spare them no immediate help. It was at this crisis that Londonderry made its noble defence. The city was but poorly equipped for defence, for the walls were weak, and there was no protect ing trench. Twenty-five thousand men attacked the city, thinking to take it by storm; but the seven thousand defenders had hearts of lions. They repulsed their foes ; they endured hunger and fever and war for more than a hundred days, but from their parched lips came still the indomitable cry of " No surrender ! " Long they looked from the walls for the relief they sorely needed. At length, towards the end of July, a ship laden with provision forced its way through the boom which the besiegers had placed across the river, and the heroic garrison knew that they had saved Ireland and their faith, for they had gained that most precious ally in warfare — time. The north of Ireland was now awake. The army of Tyrconnel was driven southward in confusion, and the English and Protestants held their own till the following year, when William himself came to Ireland and fought the battle of the Boyne, which made him master of Dublin (1690). A year later the French and Irish forces were finally defeated, and the cause of James was lost in Ireland. But intrigues con tinued, and preparations for the invasion of England were made in France. The battle of La Hogue (1692), how ever, put an end to the naval power of France, and won security for the shores of England. We must now turn to some difficulties encountered by the Church. The political settlement was felt by some Churchmen to put a strain upon their loyalty. Difficulties of The Bishops and clergy had sworn allegiance Churchmen. to James ; they were now called upon to swear onJurors' allegiance to William and Mary. It would no doubt have been a wise and magnanimous policy not to have insisted on their taking the fresh oath of allegiance; but the 330 WILLIAM AND MARY [1689- Houses of Parliament thought that public security required the oath and it was enjoined. It now became a matter of personal conscience. Men who had held the theory A Deo rex, a rege lex felt scruples about now transferring their allegiance. Eight Bishops, among them both the Primate, Sancroft, and Ken, refused to take the fresh oath. Four hundred of the clergy followed their example. Those who thus refused the oath became known as Nonjurors. They were men who suffered for conscience sake, and if they had been content meekly and patiently to bear the cross which they had chosen they would have been entitled to nothing but our admiration and respect. But some of them adopted a mistaken attitude. They condemned their brethren who, in good faith, had taken the oath. They declared that the Church of England, which had accepted the Revolution, was no longer the old Church: They sought to set up a rival Church, which they pretended to believe was the only lawful Church of the land. Sancroft, for example, was wont to speak of the Nonjurors as the true Church of England, and of the national establishment as an apostate and rebellious Church. Acting on this theory, and in belief that James was their lawful sovereign, they commenced a schism. They corresponded with King James, and he appointed two Nonjuring clergymen, who were consecrated bishops by the Nonjuring prelates. They caused discord in another way. King William had appointed bishops to the sees vacated by the Nonjurors. The deprived bishops persisted that these men were in truders ; and when Bishop Kidder, who had succeeded Bishop Ken as Bishop of Bath and Wells, was killed in bed by the falling of a chimney, there were not wanting those who saw in the accident a judgment on the intruding Bishop. 1702] THE NONJURORS 331 The Nonjuring schism lasted for some hundred years, butl before it disappeared it became the parent of further division. In the bosom of the seceding Church fresh or doctrinal schism awoke. A movement schism! was set on foot to alter the Prayer Book, intro ducing changes which would sanction prayers for the dead, a belief in purgatory, and certain alterations in the Holy Communion service These proposals brought about a division. The Nonjuring Church split asunder. The wedge was driven in by men who had at one time shown themselves hostile to any change in the Prayer Book. Thus the first difficulty of the Church, that about the new oath of allegiance, ended in schism amongst the Non jurors. The second difficulty arose out of the question of com prehension. The Church and the Nonconformists had been drawn together by the Romanising policy of James. Hopes had been entertained— f;°™prehen" indeed, something like promises had been made — that under the new regime changes would be made which would conciliate the Nonconformists. The Prince of Orange had declared his desire to bring about "a good agreement between the Church of England and all Protestant Dissenters." His good intentions, however, were frustrated by want of wise management. The House of Lords showed a wish — some of the bishops support- sec°feSjt° ing it — to carry a scheme for comprehension, but public opinion had not been considered. The House of Commons was averse from changes concerning _ ., . . Failure. which the clergy in Convocation had not been consulted. Many fears were aroused. It was believed that an attempt was about to be made to " Presbyterianise " the Church. Probably also the ill-treatment of the Episcopal clergy in Scotland stiffened the English clergy in their 332 WILLIAM AND MARY [1689- opposition. Pamphlets were poured forth on all sides. A commission, consisting of twenty persons of learning and ability, was appointed to report and advise on certain changes. Some of the proposals made were fair and wise, some were weak and doubtful, and there is no doubt that they would have evoked prolonged and angry controversy. Meanwhile Convocation had been summoned, and it soon became evident that the clergy in Convocation wished no changes in the Prayer Book. There were those too who began to see a fresh and formidable danger should changes be insisted on. The time allowed for taking the oath of allegiance had not yet expired, and it was known that many of the clergy were hesitating. To make changes in the Prayer Book would give a fresh ground of complaint and a powerful reason for secession. The sense of this impend ing danger operated as a strong reason against changes that might conciliate some Nonconformists, but would certainly alienate some Churchmen, and would strengthen the force and number of those whose sympathies were with the exiled King. The scheme of comprehension was abandoned, and with its abandonment disappeared the last opportunity of uniting in one society the religious forces of English life. But though comprehension was found to be impossible, the promise of William regarding religious liberty was fulfilled. Comprehension might or might not A°ter1j8l°n be desirable, but toleration was indispensable for the free expansion of national character. By the Act which sanctioned toleration, and which was passed readily and quickly in 1689, one great step towards religious liberty was taken. It was not the declaration of complete freedom, but it was valuable as the concession of the principle, for it gave the right of free worship to all Christians who took the oath of allegiance, and made the declaration against transubstantiation. It was a 1702] TOLERATION ACT 333 measure of relief which benefited all religious bodies except Roman Catholics and Unitarians. The settlement of 1689 made peace for a time, for it secured to the Church of England her position, and to Nonconformists a degree of toleration which, though inadequate according to our modern J"^*4^" view, was an unspeakable boon when compared ~""~" with the condition of things in an age of petty and party persecution. An enormous stride in the right direction had been taken. Freedom was for the first time understood. Toleration had taken the place of intolerance in religious matters. Constitutional liberty had taken the place of arbitrary power in political matters. This was in great measure due to the large views, the inflexible uprightness, the imperturbable energy of the man whom Large England had summoned to her aid, William III. views of Schooled in adversity, he had learnt the wis- wmiamm- dom of silence, the power of action, and the necessity for a large-minded religious policy. His coming secured the Church from the dangers to which the policy of arbitrary power exposed it. Never more would Romanism be forced upon it from the throne ; never more would it suffer from the reactionary spirit of sectaries exasperated by tyranny. But though the Church was freed from these greater conflicts, she was exposed to some lesser controversies which for a time hindered her usefulness. The convocation controversy about Convocation was one of Controversy, these. It was a strange commentary on the l69°"1701' theories of religious freedom which the Revolution had established, that the voice of the national Church should be silenced in its Convocation. Yet it was so. The House of Commons had refused, to sanction any scheme of comprehension till Convocation had been consulted ; but the use which Convocation had made of their freedom so disappointed Archbishop Tillotson that he was resolved 334 WILLIAM AND MARY [1689- to give it no further opportunity of being heard. Convo cation was summoned by writ, and so its legal position was recognised ; but it was not allowed to meet and debate. The result of this policy was a controversy in which the party hostile to the Government had the strongest position. The true gainers were the Tory, and even the Jacobite party; for they seemed to be contending for the right of freedom of speech. The controversy was waged bitterly, and at length, after ten years of silence, Convocation in 1 70 1 was allowed to meet, when the experiment oaly-served to bring to light the division of opinion between the clergy xand their bishops. The Lower House of Convocation, largely influenced by the arguments of Atterbury, a clever and not very scrupulous clergyman, who was destined later to win a brilliant but doubtful fame, put forward a novel claim of independence. The Primate had, they said, no right to prorogue the Lower House without its own consent. Thus a conflict between the Upper and Lower Houses took place, with the result that after many bickerings and much violence of language no conclusion was arrived at. In spite, however, of the differences — half political and half ecclesiastical — which paralysed united action, the Church, relieved from the apprehensions of danger which had threatened it under King James II. , was able in quiet ness and peace to lay strong and wide foundations for later work. Men found that they could unite for common purposes of good. Not only was the public conscience awake to the evils which the licentious fashions of the later Stuarts had bequeathed to the nation, but the King was alive to them, and threw his influence upon the side of right. He issued a proclamation against immorality, and associations were formed to promote the reforma tion of manners ; societies for devotional exercises and for schemes of practical good followed. A deep, quiet, and practical spirit of earnestness showed itself. Charity 1702] RELIGIOUS PROGRESS 335 schools sprang up ; it is said that within eight years more than five hundred were established. The age of societies had begun. They were formed to provide libraries for the clergy; to promote lectures in preparation for the Holy Communion ; to distribute Bibles and religious books. The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge began its work in 1698. A missionary spirit had shown itself as early as the times of the Commonwealth, when a collection was made throughout England on behalf of the Indians. At the Restoration Richard Baxter, stirred by the noble example of John Eliot, who had laboured long, and was recognised as an apostle among the North West American Indians, forgot his own sufferings, and strove to revive amongst his countrymen a sense of their duty towards America. The result of his magnanimous efforts was the restitution of the missionary funds which had been seized, and the granting of a new charter of incorporation for the society, which was destined to become the nurse, if not the mother, of a greater, for out of it grew that body which in 1701 received a charter under the name of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, the oldest existing missionary society in the kingdom. Whenever the Church is missionary in its spirit it is alive. When, therefore, we read how in the reign of William III. so many societies and institutions for good came into existence, we need not be surprised to learn that spiritual earnestness was seen in the Church worship, and that the Church now reached a condition of greater life and vigour than it had shown since the Restoration. CHAPTER XXIX. QUEEN ANNE 1702-1714 When Queen Anne ascended the throne she had the support of Whig and Tory alike, and though differences still remained, there was no dispute concerning Queen Anne. . . Queen Annes succession. Her sympathies were with the Tories. She was a strong Churchwoman and she showed a generous and true interest in Church affairs. Unfortunately a perverse and quarrelsome spirit displayed itself in Convocation. Many matters combined to nourish this spirit. There were ecclesiastical questions on which the Lower House held strong views which were not shared by the Upper House. There were theological disputes, elaborate, not very profitable, and somewhat dan gerous on the nature of the Divine Trinity. Some members of the Lower House suspected certain bishops of heretical opinions, and besides ecclesiastical and theological ques tions a certain political animus gave zest to these disputes of Convocation. The Upper House was, broadly speaking, Whig ; the Lower House was generally Tory. The Upper House was more disposed to promote liberal measures Conformity. towa-rds the Nonconformists ; the Lower House was hostile to any further indulgence. To understand this difference of opinion we must remember that though a Toleration Act had been passed, yet by law 336 THE NORMAN PERIOD. THE WEST FRONT OF ELY CATHEDRAL. From a photograph by S. B. Bolas and Co. To face p. 336. 1702-14] OCCASIONAL CONFORMITY 337 only those who received the Holy Communion in the Established Church could hold any State employment. This law led to the practice of what was called Occasional Conformity, that is, persons attended the Holy Communion occasionally, perhaps only once a year, in order to be eligible for office. The true and obvious remedy for this objectionable state of affairs was to abolish the condition and open office to all. But this step was not in har mony with the temper of the times, and accordingly the debate raged round the question whether this occasional conformity was to be allowed or not. In this dispute both sides were right. The Tory, or High Churchman, was right in wishing to prevent a sacred service being used merely for political ends ; the Whig, or Low Churchman, was right in wishing to give the opportunity of political equality to non-conforming Englishmen. The dispute ought to have demonstrated the absurdity and the irrev erence of the test. But it was not altogether the irreverence of the test which influenced Tory action. Many really wished to exclude Dissenters from office. The House of Commons elected in the beginning of Queen Anne's reign was strongly Tory, and sharing the views of the Lower House of Convocation passed a Bill, which made occa sional conformity illegal, and thus placed Dissenters unde. grave disadvantages. The House of Lords took a wider view of this matter, and threw out the Bill ; but the Commons, nothing daunted, again passed it. Again it came before the Lords. Bishop Burnet argued with great force against the revival of the persecuting legislation, which had been fraught with so much mischief. Toleration meant strength to the Church ; intolerance meant strength to dissent. The House of Lords again rejected the measure. Once more, in 1704, the attempt was made to pass the Bill by means of a stratagem. It was generally accepted that the House of Lords should not make alterar 7, 338 QUEEN ANNE [1702- tions in a finance measure, so the occasional conformity provisions were added to a money bill. In this way it was hoped to deprive the Lords of their right of rejection. The Commons, however, refused to sanction the stratagem. The question, therefore, unfettered by finance matters, came before the House of Lords for the third time, and though Queen Anne came down to the House and showed her strong desire that the Bill should pass, for the third time the Lords rejected the measure. Meanwhile heated discussions were going on in the country. The Tory clergy were keen for the measure. The House of Lords and the majority of the Bishops were against it. Violent attacks were made upon the Bishops, whilst political events tended to increase the vigour of party feeling. It had been the policy of the Whigs to support the war on the Continent, which was waged to check the power of France. Louis XIV. had been the friend and the War. °^ t^le Stuarts, and still more the foe of political and religious freedom. The policy of William III. had been to fight against such European combinations as meant the domination of those intolerant principles which Rome had favoured, and of which France and Spain had been champions. When William III. died the strain of diplomacy and war fell upon Marlborough, and upon him devolved the responsibility of carrying on this policy. His brilliant successes filled England with delight, as with con summate skill he handled the somewhat incoherent forces at his disposal, and inflicted upon the French general, Tallard, a crushing defeat at Blenheim. The spell of French arms, which for sixty years had been victorious in Europe, was broken, and more than broken, for not only had Marlborough proved that France was not invincible on the field, but he delivered Germany from her yoke. The same year brought the news that Sir George Rooke i7i4] UNION WITH SCOTLAND 339 had captured Gibraltar, and in 1705 came the tale of the successful defence of that fortress against the combined efforts of France and Spain. All these brilliant actions strengthened the power of the Whigs, and weakened the Tories, who had been more or less averse from the war. Under the influence of the war excitement a Whig House of Commons was elected. The Tories saw power slipping from their hands. The clergy began to distrust the Queen, who had been their hope and their benefactress. Pamph lets were circulated. The authorities in Church and State were declared to be ready to betray the interests of the Church, and the cry was raised that the Church was in danger. So loud and vigorous was the cry that the matter was debated in both Houses of Parliament. Both Houses declared that the Church was not in danger, and adopted an address to the Queen congratulating her on its happy and flourishing condition. But the pamphlets and tracts did not cease, and one great political question at home added fuel to the fire. The most important Act of Queen Anne's reign Union with was that which established the union between Scotland, England and Scotland. The carrying through l?°7' of the negotiations necessary before the passing of the Act was a difficult and delicate task. Queen Anne was Queen of England, and also Queen of Scotland. In England the succession after the Queen's death had been fixed, the crown was to pass to the Electress Sophia and her heirs, being Protestants. In Scotland the succession had not been fixed. It was clearly a matter of supreme importance that there should be agreement between England and Scotland on this matter. At first England was inclined to refuse to Scotland the commercial advantages which were right and wise. Scotland accordingly passed an Act declaring that the Scottish crown should not, on the death of the Queen, devolve upon anyone who inherited the 340 QUEEN ANNE [1702- English crown, unless, before that event, satisfactory arrangements were made as to trade. This was a declaration of disunion, and so a menace to English security. England gave way on the question of free trade, and thus the path of negotiation was cleared. Scotland accepted the same succession as England, and agreed to Parliamentary union. But here arose the question which fired the zeal of the extreme High Churchmen. The Scotch were to send to the House of Commons forty-seven representatives, but as the Scotch were mostly Presbyterians it was obvious that, in spite of tests, Presbyterian members were to invade the House of Commons. Meanwhile, the Lower House of Convocation had been kept prorogued from time to time, and had been given no opportunity of expressing its views upon the union with Scotland. These matters gave occasion to much excitement. The cry again rose that the Church was in danger. Tracts, lampoons, satires, and sermons were published. The Whigs were declared to be authors of every evil from which the kingdom suffered ; they had plunged the country into debt by a costly war ; they had destroyed trade; they were now imperilling the Church. The number of pamphlets and libels upon the Govern ment at last goaded the Whig party into an unwise act of retaliation. Among the clergv of London there Sacheverell. was a certain Dr. Henry Sacheverell, a man of good presence and impressive elocution, much vehemence and little thought. On November 5th, 1709, he preached an inflammatory sermon at St. Paul's. It was a sermon on the old Tory lines, declaring for the divine right of kings, denouncing toleration, abusing Dissenters, and accus ing the Whigs of betraying the Church. The text selected was, " In perils among false brethren." The Whigs were the false brethren who were ruining the Church. "What i7i4] TRIAL OF SACHEVERELL 341 they could not do by open violence, they will not fail by secret treachery to accomplish." Certain Whig leaders were alluded to as "volpones," the reference being a double one, to the words of the psalmist and to a character in one of Ben Jonson's plays. The world took it that Lord Godolphin (the statesman of whom Charles II. said " Little Godolphin is never in the way and never out of the way ") was specially aimed at. This hot-headed sermon was re ceived by thoughtless Tories with boundless applause. It sold rapidly, and within a short time 40,000 copies were disposed of. The Government became uneasy. Some counselled silence and patience. Others thought that an example should be made. These latter carried their way, and it was resolved to impeach Sacheverell. The preacher of an injudicious sermon, thus dignified by the honour of an impeachment, became the hero of the mob. The impeachment was carried in both Houses, but Parliament could only" sEow displeasure^ by burning the culprit's sermon, and prohibiting him from preaching for three years. Thus Sacheverell became a double hero, for he had all the honour of posing as a persecuted man, with the laurels of a popular victory besides. A little later he had the more substantial reward of a rich living on the borders of Wales, whither he was conducted in triumph by his admiring followers. It was clear to the Government that popular feeling was running in favour of the Tories. The lustre of Marl borough's victories no longer dazzled public imagination. Changes on the Continent made all parties wish for peace. The election of 17 10 resulted in a Tory Parliament. Harley, Earl of Oxford and St. John, Lord Bolingbroke, formed a Tory Ministry, supported by gentry and clergy who were desirous of diminishing the power of the Whig peers and -their allies, the trading classes and the Dissenters. 342 QUEEN ANNE [1702- The opportunity for this was made by reviving the Occasional Conformity Bill. At this time there came o casionai t0 tne a'^ °^ ^e Tories a most useful ally. Conformity The Whigs had hitherto had the support of again, 1711. able writers like Addison. The Tories felt their need of equally able pens, and found what they wanted in Jonathan Swift, the cleverest, coarsest, strangest, and saddest man of his day. He was a politician more from interest than conviction, and a Churchman more from conviction than attachment. He felt himself neglected by the Whigs; he hated and dreaded the ascendency of the fanatics. He became the ally of the Tories. The House of Lords had thrice rejected the measure, but now political pressure led the Whigs to give way. They wanted power to censure the foreign policy of the Tories, who were now concluding peace, and to do this they needed the help of the malcontents among that party. They therefore agreed with Nottingham, who was sulking because the Tories had not given him office, to support the Occasional Conformity Bill if he would support them on the question of foreign policy. Thus, by an unprincipled arrangement, the Bill became law. The foreign policy was censured, but the conspirators were ultimately outwitted, for Harley per suaded the Queen to create a dozen Tory peers, and so extinguish the Whig majority in the Upper House (171 1). In acting thus, however, a great constitutional question was moved on one stage further, for the power of the House of Commons was strengthened. Thus there occurred one of those inconsistencies of party action which have not been uncommon in English political life, and which show that constitutional instinct is often strongest when party principles are weak. The Whig party betrayed their principles in the hope of power, and the Tory party, the advocates of divine right, became the champions of the House of Commons. i7i4] HARSH LEGISLATION 343 The strength of the High Church party was shown once more in 17 13, when it was able, in a House of Commons less distinctly Tory than its predecessor, to revive a measure which prohibited any person Le'S-Sut!on from keeping a school or acting as tutor with out a bishop's licence. It further provided that the licence should not be given without proof that the person seeking it had received the Holy Communion according to the rites of the Church of England. This harsh measure, aimed against the Nonconformists, was enacted, but fortu nately its provisions remained more or less a dead letter. One other measure needs to be mentioned. An Act was passed (1711) which required that every member of Parliament should possess ^"200 a year in land. By this the Tory Government sought to exclude the trading classes from office. These measures were mistakes. The naval battle of La Hogue, fought in 1692, had made England mistress of the seas. With her superiority at sea her commerce had grown, and her merchants and traders had become powerful in the State. The Tory Government, by their action, now threw traders and Dissenters into the ranks of the Whigs, and thereby increased the power of their opponents at home, and this at a time when the Queen's reign was drawing to a close, and it was known that the sympathies of the heir- at-law were with the Whigs. Under those circumstances some of the violent Tories desired to support the Pre tender. The religious question determined the matter. The Pretender was a Roman Catholic, and the clergy of the Church of England, though strongly Tory in politics, were strong also against a Roman Catholic sovereign; and the Pretender would not change his faith to win a crown. Nevertheless, conspiracies were on foot to bring the Pretender to the throne. The Tory party was divided 344 QUEEN ANNE [^02- between those who would welcome the Pretender at all costs and those who desired to accept George of Hanover under certain conditions. The Whig party was united in favour of the House of Hanover and of the settlement made by the nation. With these divisions of opinion much uneasiness prevailed. Some saw in them the shadow Death of °f c'v^ war> an<^ both Parr-ies prepared for the Queen, emergencies. It was a Jacobite opportunity, I7'4" but the death of Queen Anne came more suddenly than had been expected. The extreme Tories and Jacobites were not ready to encounter the Whig and Protestant combination against them, and so when Queen Anne passed away George I. became King, and was accepted by the nation with contentment if not with enthusiasm. We have seen in Queen Anne's reign scenes of strife, and examples of an overbearing and intolerant spirit on the part of Churchmen; but we must not theVhurch. judge the rank and file of the clergy by the harsh and heady partisans. In villages and in town parishes there were men who were quietly and earnestly doing their work. Services were frequent and devoutly rendered, and books were issued which showed that there were still studious and learned clergy in the Church of England. From the deanery of Norwich came Prideaux's book on The Connection of Sacred and Profane history. Stillingfleet and Bingham, Bull and Beveridge fully sustained the reputation of the Church for learning. Sermons had improved, thanks to the care of Archbishop Tillotson, and to the literary influence of Addison and Swift. In architecture Wren had added a cluster of dignified churches and picturesque spires to London. But in spite of much that added lustre to the Church, there were evils which cried for remedy. Many of the clergy were miserably poor. The Queen had acted i7i4] QUEEN ANNE'S BOUNTY 345 generously on her birthday in 1704 by conveying to the Church the first-fruits and tenths, that is, payments made by those taking possession of or holding a benefice. This, besides being an act of generosity, was an act of restitution also; for though these for many years had been paid to the Crown, yet they had in earlier times belonged to the Church. The Queen having thus made them over to the Church they became the nucleus of the fund now known as Queen Anne's Bounty. But notwithstanding this royal gift the payment of the clergy was sadly in adequate. Goldsmith's picture of the country parson, who was "passing rich on forty pounds a year," is not very far from the mark. The social status of the clergy also was unsatisfactory. They were too often treated with a sort of kindly contempt. Nevertheless, on the whole the Church held a high and influential position in the land. If some of her clergy were humble and even ignorant, she could number among her sons men who by their learning, literary powers, eloquence, and social influence could hold their place among the strong men of the country. CHAPTER XXX. GEORGE I. AND GEORGE II. A.D. I7I4-I760 The man who stands on the seashore can hardly fail to notice the inrush of the waves, but he cannot so readily measure the advance of the tide. It is the T,h~,Curr,ents same with history. While the surface events of Thought. J are most clearly seen and most readily re membered, the great currents of thought, which are like the incoming tide, are often overlooked. It is well, therefore, at certain points to try and gauge the advance of human thought. The age of the Reformation Rationalism. was an aSe of inquiry- Authority as an argu ment was valueless. Men asked for truth and not for authority. Authority, royal, political, and ecclesi astical, was tested. It was then no longer allowed to bandage men's eyes under the plea that it had a divine right to do so. Authority based upon such claims passed away. Authority based on truth and fitness took its place, and won a loyalty which was denied to it when claimed on theoretical or arbitrary grounds. The spirit which was among men tested every dogma and every authority. Not only did men ask that reason should be freely exercised, that nothing should be sacred from its touch, but further, they were enamoured of nature, and began to speak much of natural law, natural society, natural religion. Christianity must justify herself to reason, and show herself in harmony 346 1714-60] RATIONALISM 347 with nature. This sounded plausible enough, and it would have been reasonable enough had men given a full mean ing to reason and a worthy significance to nature. But Rationalism, as it was called, was really not reasonable; it attacked the religious problem by ignoring one great witness in the case — religion as expressed in the religious consciousness of men ; it dealt with nature by ignoring the most important element of nature — human nature. It further failed to realise that religion, which treats of the relationship between God and man, must pass into regions which transcend man's thought. God's life and thought embrace man on every side. The circle of man's life and thought must ever and wholly be within this divine and measureless circle. It was therefore unreasonable to try and put the greater circle inside the less. It was, however, equally unreasonable not to allow that, as the little circle lay wholly within the greater, all that the little circle en closed was ground common to the greater and the less, to the divine and the human. It took a hundred years and more to learn this truth. There was, then, a wave of Rationalist thought which went all over Europe. In England it had some strong and representative writers, but it was not in England alone that the influence of the move ment was felt. The paralysing doubts which this hard Rationalism produced laid their hand upon the Churches abroad as well as upon the Church at home; and the condition of religion elsewhere must be remembered when we are inclined to speak severely of the deadness at home. There were worldly and self-interested ecclesiastics in Eng land who neglected their duty, but no man as vicious as the Frenchman Dubois, was in England raised to the Epis copate. There were men in England who were latitudinarian in views, and who wished that the terms of subscription should be. relaxed, but no 4prime minister in the reign of 348 GEORGE I. AND GEORGE II. [,7M any of the Georges would have nominated a sceptic to an archbishopric. No English king found it necessary to ask, as Louis XVI. did as late as 1774, whether it was desirable that an archbishop should believe in a God ? And whatever may have been the level of morals in England, the Church never suffered the degradation under gone by the Gallican Church, when her most responsible and sacred offices were sold to the highest bidder by the mistress of the King. The recognition -of the widespread character of this moral and religious slackness is necessary lest we should trace it to inadequate causes. The inertness of the Church in the days of the Georges was not caused by the Latitudinarian. The Latitudinarian was a symptom rather than a cause ; he was a symptom of a current of thought which spread everywhere, the difference between France and England being that for the Latitudinarian Churchman in England there was an avowed infidel in France. The cause of this state of things was twofold. Religion had, through the contests of the sixteenth century, become largely political. National interests and theo- Poiiticai logical sympathies had become intermingled, fnd„ , and men recognised so clearly the political Intellectual. ° . ' r advantages of ecclesiastical and theological support that they overlooked the original function of the Church. They viewed Churches as convenient allies; they forgot that their duty was to preach the Gospel to the poor. Again, the spirit of investigation had arisen, and this spirit was destined to pursue its way and bring every theory to the test of truth. All things were to be shaken, in order that the unshakeable and eternal truths might be known." The century divides itself into two portions. The first of Two these practically reaches to the latter years of mgSa George II.'s reign ; the second carries us to Century. the period of the great struggle with France. 1760] THE JACOBITE PERIOD 349 In the first of these periods the nation recognises the need of peace at home; in the second it realises the need of expansion abroad. In the earlier period the shadow of invasion and rebel lion hung over the country. The Jacobites had still hopes of overthrowing the existing dynasty and The period .bringing back the Stuarts. Every mistake of of Political the Government and every reason for dis- ear' content increased the number of the Tories ready to welcome such a restoration. Bolingbroke, perhaps in some respects the ablest man of his day, when obliged to fly the country through the rash vigour of the Whigs, took office abroad under the Pretender. Bishop Atterbury, whose influence with the clergy was great, acknowledged the Pretender as his sovereign. As long as a powerful party abroad, supported by influential people at home, were intriguing on behalf of "the King over the water," there was a feeling of insecurity throughout the country. Twice in the first fifty years this feeling of insecurity became one of positive alarm. In 1715, and again thirty years later, the Jacobite armies were on the march. The former rising soon ended in failure, owing to the rashness and incom petence of its leaders. The latter (1745) was marked by the victory of the Pretender at Preston Pans ; the bold advance of his army into England ; the surprising panic and Black Friday in London, when King George II. made ready for flight, and the people rushed to get their money out of the Bank of England ; and the reassurance of the public mind when the battle of Culloden broke the spirit of re volt. Thus it was not till the century was half over that the fear of Jacobite intrigues and revolt passed away. It is needful to keep this in mind, as we must remember that the leading statesmen were obliged to carry Difficulties on the government under very difficult circum- of states- stances. Jacobitism was long a real danger; men- 350 GEORGE I. AND GEORGE II. [1714- added to this, over-energetic and unscrupulous traders, by carrying on smuggling in Spanish America, caused difficulties with Spain. No wonder therefore that states men looked with disfavour upon everything likely to cause excitement or to provoke war. Their policy was to keep things quiet; they believed that the country needed repose to develop her own institutions and to consolidate her home interests. Under such circumstances practical considerations outweigh theories. Men seek no longer the ideal, but the possible. " Let us have common sense " becomes the motto for the moment. It is not the time for enthusiasm ; the restless activities of religious or political enthusiasts are not welcomed — they are feared. " Use and value what you have won, and don't imperil it by fresh enterprises," would be the counsel common at such a time. The fear of a Jacobite rising had resulted, on the acces sion of King George I., in a Whig Parliament; but there was still much uneasiness. Accordingly under the fear that the country might elect a Tory House of Act 1716* Commons a Septennial Act was passed, which lengthened the duration of Parliament to seven instead of three years (1716). With the view of con- Repeal of ciliating the Nonconformists the Schism Act Schism Acts, and the Occasional Conformity Act were re- 17'9' pealed three years later. About the same time the nation suffered from what might have proved a ruinous crisis. The spirit of wild speculation seized upon all classes. What Crisis. was called the South Sea Company was the great attraction. It promised large returns. Other mad schemes were invented to meet the public passion. The great South Sea scheme proved to be a bubble. When the bubble burst there was great danger. Sir Robert Walpole now began his great ministry. By i76o] INACTIVE AND ACTIVE PERIODS 351 his financial skill he restored something like order, and averted the worst of the danger. His reign of power followed, and he proceeded to develop the constitutional principles which had been accepted at the Revolution. To do this he desired peace. Thorny questions were best avoided. Sleeping dogs were best left to slumber. Enthusiasm led to excitement. Let there be no enthusiasm. The conditions which I have described were not favour able to vigorous organic action on the part of the Church, which, indeed, was too much divided to attempt it. The Lower House of Convocation was strongly Tory ; it was not free from Jacobite sympathies. The Upper House was mainly Whig. Among the contentious questions raised by the Lower House was a claim to the right of inde pendent action, which the Upper House deemed uncon stitutional ; statesmen might have considered it dangerous. The result was that Convocation was silenced in 1717. Thus in the first half of the century there is little ecclesi astical work which can be chronicled. The second half of the century is full of movement abroad. Life at home is no longer threatened by the spirit of revolt. The Jacobite has ceased to be a cause of serious alarm. The eyes of p^^it°_ England are drawn to the far East and to the far West. The foundation of the Indian Empire is laid, and the strength and independent spirit of the American colonies is to be proved. The latter years of the century will see the war of American independence and the long drama of Warren Hastings' trial, and its closing years are to witness that great convulsion which overset the throne of France and opened the flood-gates of European war. In that time England was tested as other nations were, but, though shaken in that period of earthquake, she still stood upright when other peoples fell. 352 GEORGE I. AND GEORGE II. [I7i4- After thus anticipating the great testing events which the close of the century were to bring, we must estimate the forces which were working for the strengthen- invigorating jn0- 0f had also written with unsparing severity against *7 the stage. He was now acting as tutor to a young man named Edward Gibbon, whose son was to achieve fame as the historian of the Roman Empire. While at Putney William Law turned his attention to the mystics ; he studied the writings of Behmen, Tauler, and Ruysbroek. The fruit of these studies was the appearance of a book which influenced for good the lives of thousands. This book, The Serious Call, appeared in 1728. Earnest men came to consult the author. Among these were John Wesley and his brother Charles, and for a time he was as an oracle to John Wesley, whose religious earnestness, now stimulated and guided by William Law, longed for action. America needed men. George Berkeley, of whom I have told you, had set a noble example of missionary devotion by resigning the deanery of Derry and sailing for Rhode Island; and now in 1735 Wesley sailed for Georgia. Here he attempted to enforce, in a new and half-formed colony, the most rigid ecclesias tical discipline. His work was conscientious and high- minded, but it could hardly be called successful. In his raw zeal, like many young enthusiasts, he insisted over much on external details. He was what some would call a stiff Churchman, and his after -judgment upon him self was that at this time he had faith, but it was the faith of a servant, not that of a son. The son-like faith, however, was destined to dawn. His life was to be open to other influences. These came from the Moravians ; and it is well that we should understand something about this body of Christians, who have, perhaps, more nearly than any other body, realised in practice the spirit of Christ. 368 THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL [1703- In the ninth century of our era the people of Moravia received Christianity through the teaching of Greek missionaries. From Moravia the faith spread into Bohemia, where, in spite of persecution, it maintained its hold, and in spite of the growing influence of Rome it kept to its old Greek or Slavonian forms and the use of the Slavonian tongue in worship. This attachment to the native language was disliked at Rome, and much con troversy ensued. Methodius, the Archbishop of Moravia, visited Rome, where he was well received, and the Pope (John VIII.) acknowledged that God had made other languages besides Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Thus the use of the native tongue was sanctioned; but from time to time the Popes endeavoured to insist upon the introduc tion of Roman teaching and forms of worship. Moravians ^he Bohemians were in the twelfth century encouraged in their resistance to all encroach ments by the emigration of the Waldenses, who had been driven out of their own land by Latin persecution, and they refused to adopt the Roman innovations which the Popes from time to time sought to force upon them. The teach ing of John Huss, who endeavoured to restore primitive views, awoke new courage, but Huss perished in 141 5, and the persecutions to which Bohemia was exposed led to the dispersion of the Moravians or United Brethren as they were called. Scattered, they retained their faith and their worship. Though they had bravely withstood Roman errors the Reformed Churches did not always welcome the United Brethren, and they remained, therefore, to a large extent, a distinct, though scattered, body. But so slender were their numbers that they seemed to have perished. In the beginning of the eighteenth century, however, new life entered into them, and in Moravia and Bohemia they awoke into activity. The man whose name must be for ever associated with this revival was Count Zinzendorf. i*fjSjl''|*j THE DECORATED TERIOD. WEST FRONT OF LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL. From a photograph by G. W. Wilson and Co., Aberdeen. To face p. 368. 1754] MORAVIAN INFLUENCES 369 He gave to some of the brethren a dwelling-place. Here the town Herrnhut arose. Its name, "the defence of God," recalls an incident in the revived existence of the Moravians. When the spirit of renewed piety awoke they found fresh courage in singing Luther's hymn. "A safe stronghold our God is still." At Herrnhut, which was associated with the revival of their faith, and became the Jerusalem of the United Brethren, there gfew up in simple and unworldly piety a Christianity which burned with apos tolic zeal. Thence went forth to all parts of the world missionaries, the modesty and complete self-sacrifice of whose devotion shielded them from the degradation of fame. Their representatives might be met anywhere, for there was no spot to which they were not ready to go. Their missions were established amid the snows of Green land and upon the southern shores of Africa. It was under the influence of one of these United Brethren that John Wesley took a step forward in his wonderful career. One evening in 1738 Wesley went very reluctantly to a Moravian gathering in Aldersgate Street. There someone read Luther's introduction to the Epistle to the Romans. As Wesley listened there was given to him power to grasp the meaning of faith in Christ. He understood as he had never done before the fulness of the love of God. Like Luther he realised the forgiveness of sins. William Law had helped him one step on the road. Peter Bohler, a simple Moravian, helped forward another step, and from that time forward the evangelistic work of Wesley began, and continued till his death in 1791. In this period of more than fifty years he travelled and preached incessantly. " Leisure and I," he said, " have taken leave of one another. I propose to be Actfvhf S ^usy as *onS as * uve-" He travelled four or five thousand miles a year. He would preach twice or three times in a day, beginning as early as five 2 B 370 THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL [1703- in the morning. A letter of his, which I have in my possession, gives an idea of his energy. It is written from Manchester on April 2nd, 1785, when he was eighty-two years old. In it he says : " After a swift journey through Bolton, Wigan, and Liverpool, I must hasten by Chester to Holyhead in order to take the first Pacquet for Dublin. The spring is already so far spent that I shall have much ado to go through all the provinces of Ireland before the end of June." His tireless energy enabled him to achieve much, to read, to write, and to organise. " I am often in haste," he said, " but never in a hurry, for I never undertake more than I can do with a quiet mind." His work of preaching was often interrupted by noisy and heedless people. In the eyes of some he was an innovator; in the eyes of others he was a disturber of the peace. Dislike of new methods and dislike of religion armed hostility against him. Sometimes the interference was rough and violent. Once in the Midlands he described the clamour against him as an ocean storm — " They roared against me as the roaring of the sea." Bishop Butler gravely doubted the value of the religious excitement shown in the early days of the movement. "May not a whole people go mad?" he suddenly asked when walking in his garden at Bristol. We need not be surprised. The preaching of Wesley was sometimes followed by strange physical effects. People fell down in fits or broke into incoherent ecstasy. But with time a calmer spirit prevailed, and more solid work was done. Many of the grave and thoughtful clergy of the Church were moved by the same evangelistic spirit. Henry Venn made Huddersfield a centre of grave and solid Sympathisers. PietY- Grimshaw, the vicar of Haworth, the moorside Yorkshire parish, which the Brontes afterwards made famous, sallied forth, whip in hand, to drive 1754] GEORGE WHITEFIELD 371 his parishioners into church. Fletcher, the man whom Wesley wished to succeed him as head of the Methodist Society, went forth at Madeley, bell in hand, in the early dawn to wake his people for worship. But Fletcher loved his appointed plot of work. -" I will not quit my sentry-box." His faith and piety were just as genuine, though he could not say, like Wesley, "All the world is my parish." A strong and ardent spirit, more gifted in some respects than John Wesley, had earlier begun open air or field preaching as it was then called. This was George Whitefield. His early life was spent in Whitefield, a Gloucester inn kept by his mother, where he acted as tapster and hostler. He picked up a desultory education at the grammar school and at the theatre. He came under religious impressions. He went to Oxford; he became one of "the Pious Club," "the Methodists," there, and fell under the influence of John Wesley, then a Fellow of Lincoln. The remarkable character of his abilities led to his being ordained when only twenty-one by the Bishop of Gloucester. He showed extraordinary preaching power ; he was the orator par excellence of the movement. His far-reaching voice, his dramatic gifts, his passion to do good drew crowds to hear him. The churches were too small. The audiences were numbered by tens of thousands. As many as eighty thousand, it is said, gathered to hear him at Mayfair. He was a man with one message, and he gave it, and he was never tired of giving it. He arrested the attention of the most cultured ; he provoked the curiosity and admiration of statesmen ; he melted the hearts of the ignorant. Lady Huntingdon took Lord Chesterfield, the most fastidious critic and the most fashionable cynic of his day, to hear him. With him went the inimitable Bolingbroke. The rough miners of Gloucestershire, who gathered in the fields to hear him, 372 THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL [1703- wept like children. Wesley and Whitefield worked for a time in harmony, but theological differences at length divided them. The great controversy about election, as it was called, was not dead. Some taught that only certain people destined by God to salvation could be saved ; others taught that salvation was within the power of every man The former were called Calvinists because, though debasing and narrowing his teaching, they accepted the principles of Calvin. The latter were called Arminians, because their teaching was believed to spring from that of Arminius. Whitefield was a Calvinist, Wesley an Arminian. We may regret that differences of view should divide good men. We may wonder at Wesley and Whitefield, but that is because we do not feel the keenness of the controversy. We know that without God no man can be saved, but we know also that God's love is poured out freely upon every man. We do not feel the contradiction between these principles which led to the divisions of one or two hundred years ago, but perhaps the controversies which we carry on so keenly to-day will seem foolish and need less to those who come after us. Whitefield was supported by Lady Huntingdon, a good, generous, if somewhat narrow-minded woman. She had no wish to separate from the Church of England, Huntingdon. but s^e desired to see churches and institutions in which the message preached, as Whitefield preached it, should be still given to men. In this way colleges, like Cheshunt College, sprang up, and in various parts of the country places of worship, which became known as Countess of Huntingdon's Chapels, were built Partly through their own separatist tendencies, and partly through the dislike or neglect of the Church, the people who followed this Huntingdon movement grew into a distinct organisation. The later phases of Wesley's movement showed the same 1754] SEPARATION FROM THE CHURCH 373 drift. The desire to keep his converts together and to provide leaders for them in every locality led to a system of organisation which Wesley desired should be supple mentary to the work of the Church of England, separation But here again there were faults and mis- from the understandings on both sides. Too many Church- of the clergy regarded Wesley's work as that of a fanatic. The churches were in many parts closed to him. Mean while his organisation went on. Classes of those awakened by religious feeling were formed. These were put under the care of some more experienced convert, who was called a class leader. In process of time these class leaders multiplied. True to his method and anxious to promote practical religion, Wesley wished that the lives of the converts should be regulated by certain rules. Among these self-denial was one, every true Christian should contribute by his substance to promote the work of God. Thus funds were raised, and by degrees a very complete system grew up. The members of the Society increased ; and as the organisation developed it felt its own power and its need of expression. Thus gradually and without deliberate intention of secession the new Society, after wards known as the Wesleyan body, separated from the Church. This had never been John Wesley's intention. Though he had laid aside many of his pedantic notions of churchmanship, he still retained a real love of the Church of England, and a sincere attachment to her system. One feature of this religious revival must not be over looked. We are trying to estimate the forces which were at work in the heart of English life last century. The singers Thought was advancing under the protection of the of free and settled institutions. Religion no longer stood under the shelter of power and authority. Men were free to believe as their reason and conscience 374 THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL [1703- guided them : they could worship according to the form which helped them most. But as reason was free to work many treatises appeared, opposing and defending faith. Societies arose to guide and protect the public conscience, to restrain vice, and to encourage virtue. Religious zeal awoke, and preachers like Whitefield and Wesley went throughout the length and breadth of the land with per sistent and persuasive devotion. But till people can find a voice for their own emotion little progress is made. Argument is a powerful agency ; organisation supplies constant opportunity for the use of influence ; the living voice of the preacher can appeal to mind and conscience and heart ; but another power, as great almost as the voice of the evangelist, is the voice of song. When a movement has found its music the people will march and follow. A religious revival needs singers as well as preachers. The revival of which we are speaking had not, like the German Reformation, one great hymn which, because it met so aptly the needs of the times, became the recognised and sovereign song of the movement. It had no hymn which held eminent sway like Luther's — "A safe stronghold our God is still " ; but it inspired many singers, who supplied beautiful and fitting hymns to express the religious yearn ings of the people and the times. With some of these writers we ought to be acquainted, for the age was rich in hymns. Early one morning, in 171 1, a little company who were gathered round an open grave looked up, and as they saw the sun begin to mount the sky they broke out singing, "Awake, my soul, and with the sun." They had just buried Bishop Ken at Frome, as he had wished, "under the east window, just at sun-rising," and before they left the grave they sang Bishop Ken's own morning hymn. His morning and his evening hymn, "All praise to Thee, my God, this night," are now in every hymn-book, but they did not appear in print till the seventeenth-century was closing. Ken was 1754] THE HYMN WRITERS 375 a kind of pioneer of sacred song. Within a hundred years the voices of one hundred and fifty other singers had been heard. Isaac Watts, Charles AVesley, Bishop Patrick, John Byrom, Robert Seagrave, Bishop Lowth, Philip Doddridge, Joseph Hart, Edward Perronet, William Cowper, Augustus Toplady, Thomas Kelly, John Mason Good and others had enriched the treasury of sacred song with hymns that have stirred and soothed, strengthened and consoled thou sands of souls. Among these names the first place must be given to Charles Wesley. He was a leading figure in the revival movement. John Wesley treated him as one with himself. " My brother and I," he was wont to say, and rightly, for Charles was brother, counsellor, friend, and above all the singer of the movement. It found its voice in him. He poured out the hymns which expressed the yearning, the faith, the devotion of the soul. The multi tudes caught them up and felt them living words. After people had sung hymns like " Soldiers of Christ, arise," and "Jesu, lover of my soul," there was no likelihood of their returning to Sternhold and Hopkins. He is credited with having given to the world more than four thousand hymns. Other less prolific writers added to the storehouse of song. Thus Perronet gave that hymn which has been a favourite for a hundred and fifty years, " All hail the power of Jesu's Name." Doddridge contributed a vigorous and wholesome hymn, "Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve." Out of the sadness and gentleness of his soul Cowper brought the hymn, " God moves in a mysterious way," and singing himself into trust in the frowning provi dence, which he knew must conceal the smiling face of God's love, was able to awaken the faith of others. Augustus Toplady, who died at the age of thirty-eight, yet left behind as a legacy a hymn which Mr. Gladstone delighted to translate, " Rock of ages, cleft for me." But the man who made the most enduring contribution to the 376 THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL [,703-54 hymns of the century was the frail little Nonconformist philosopher, Isaac Watts, an able writer, whose treatise on logic became a text-book at Oxford. He exposed himself to an unjust disparagement of reputation by doing what few others attempted to do ; for he is perhaps most widely known by his Divine and Moral Songs written for children. It is unjust, however, to think of him merely as the author of " How doth the little busy bee." He is rather to be remembered as one who, besides corresponding on philo sophical questions with leading men in Europe, contributed some of the best and most enduring hymns to our hymn- books, and who must ever hold a foremost place among all hymn-writers as the author of perhaps the noblest hymn in the English language, " O God, our help in ages past." Thus the religious revival was accompanied by song. The hymns, produced in such numbers about this time, became the inheritance of the people, and long after the leaders of the revival had passed away, pious hearts were nourished in saintliness and patience by the hymns which the movement bequeathed to the world. These hymns were to many associated with supreme moments of their lives, when, stirred by religious emotion and the voices of multitudes lifted up in song, they had been carried up to the very gates of heaven. And whenever afterwards they read the words which were linked with such ecstatic memories, they would feel that heaven was still open, and that they could hear the voices of multitudes singing the song of the redeemed. CHAPTER XXXII. PHILANTHROPY FOLLOWS RELIGION A.D. 1754-1800 The second half of the century is, in some respects, a happier and more interesting time. The period of repose necessary for national consolidation is coming to an end. The working of the union with The End of _, , , , , , , . the Period of Scotland has passed beyond the stage of Rest, 1754. experiment. The principles of constitutional government are better understood. The ministry, no longer a council consisting of members with independent responsibility, is, at least after 1782, regarded as responsible to the nation ; it is a council in which one member is re cognised as Prime Minister, and on him falls the responsi bility of directing the policy of the Government. The ship, in fact, has a pilot, who can be changed, as well as a captain, the King who never dies. In 1754 Henry Pelham, who had been Prime Minister, died. George II. recognised that his death meant that a more active and energetic minister must follow. "Now," he said, "I shall have no peace." The King, however, onl^'reigneo^'six years after this; and before the full development of the more vigorous policy George III. was on the throne. England was beginning to realise the meaning of Colonial Empire. She was not content to leave her sons to struggle unaided in distant continents out of a wish to preserve to King George his Hanoverian possessions. A 377 378 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [1754 vigorous colonial policy began about this time. William Pitt, the Great Commoner, had won by his invincible probity the confidence of the trading classes. in'America^16 He SaW that the battle mUSt be fought on the seas and beyond them. Then began the great struggle between France and England for supremacy on the American continent. The English fleet crippled the French fleet at Quiberon Bay and elsewhere, while the colonists, aided by troops from England, were able to hold their own against the French in America. At length there came the supreme moment of struggle. One dark night a young English general, Wolfe, led his troops up the narrow zigzag path which led from the St. Lawrence up the cliffs to the plain of Abraham behind Quebec. As they dropped down the river to commence the ascent no voice was heard save now and again lines from Gray's Elegy, softly murmured to himself by Wolfe. With the dawn the English were drawn up for battle on the level ground, and before the sundown Quebec was won (1759), and Canada secured to England. Events like these drew men's thoughts to America. A few years later the attention of England became riveted there, for in 1773 the cargoes of tea were flung into Boston harbour by the colonists, who resisted the claims of England to impose taxes upon them. Three years later American Indepen dence was declared. Thus America filled an increasingly large place in men's minds in the third quarter of the century, for within that time America was won and lost to England. Canada alone was left to her. The Christian people of England had not done their duty by America and the colonies there. A few devoted Christian merl na<^ shown the way, but they had been left Work in to labour alone, and sometimes even hindrances were thrown in their way. In the seventeenth century John Eliot had devoted himself to missionary work i8oo] WORK IN THE COLONIES 379 among the North- West Indian tribes. He had translated the Bible and the metrical Psalms. Early in the eighteenth century George Berkeley had sailed for Rhode Island, rely ing on promise of help from home, but he waited in vain ; and when Bishop Gibson had asked Sir Robert Walpole when the promised money would be sent to Berkeley, Walpole had replied that he thought " Never." The money had gone elsewhere. Berkeley, starved out, was obliged to return home. Wesley and Whitefield had visited Georgia. The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel had main tained clergymen in different places, but on the whole, English people had hardly realised all that might or ought to have been done for America. There was, moreover, some political hesitation. The Church authorities doubted their rights and powers, and in 1784, when a request for a bishop was made from America, Dr. Samuel Seabury, who came over to England, was consecrated Bishop of Connecticut, not by the English Bishops but by the Bishops of the Episcopal Church of Scotland. Three years later, however, the English Bishops showed more courage, and the Bishops of Pennsylvania and New York were consecrated in Lambeth Chapel. Later in the same year Dr. Inglis was consecrated Bishop of Nova Scotia, and before the end of the century Dr. Mountain became the first Bishop of Quebec. Thus you will see that as the century drew to its close a more missionary spirit began to show itself. The truth is that the time of active service was come. The day of discussion had passed away. The quiet study and the devotional meetings of the early part of the century had drawn men's minds towards personal religion, and as the years went on the fruits began to show themselves. The latter half of the century sent the thoughts of Englishmen to the far East as well as to the West. India as well as America became a place of interest. In- 1600 380 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [I7S4- the East India Company obtained a Charter from Queen Elizabeth. For more than 250 years English influence in India was exercised through this trading inhindUUgg'e comPany- Tne storv is most extraordinary, and though its history is marked by many blemishes, by much greed and oppression, yet it is a record of English energy and self-reliance. For about a hundred years the Company traded, protecting its head quarters by fortresses and troops. In this way Bombay and Calcutta became their possessions. In 1707 Alamgir, often called by his family name Aurungzebe, the great Emperor of the Moguls, died. With his death came anarchy. The Mahrattas gradually became the chief power among the native states, but as some of their enemies were willing to be enrolled among the European troops, European settlers gained by Indian disputes. The French as well as the English had Indian settlements. The French had troops, and had drilled natives as soldiers. The English were chiefly traders with a sort of police force, supplemented by native troops, Sepoys as they were called. And now in India as in America began the struggle for supremacy between French and English. The English won mainly through the vigour and courage of a young English clerk in Madras, Robert Clive by name, who earned the title among the natives of Sabat Jung, the "daring in war." His courageous conduct and fighting powers so impressed the Mahratta chief, Morari Rao, that he helped him. Clive established English supremacy in South-Eastern India. The battle of Plassey (1757) secured Bengal, and the battle of Wandewash (1760), followed by the capture of Pondicherry (1761), won Madras and settled the question of English supremacy in India. Thus by 1 76 1 India and America were won to England. But the Christian people of England did not immediately realise their duty to India. The management ot affairs i8oo] DUTY TOWARDS INDIA 381 there was in the hands of the Company, and the directors were apprehensive of any movement which might disturb the natives or hinder trade. One missionary, Dr. Schwartz, an agent of the Christian Knowledge Society, commenced work in South India ; but in another way the sense of moral responsibility towards India was stimulated. Confusion followed the departure of Clive in 1767, and Warren Hastings, who five years later became Governor of Bengal, while he did much for English rule by his energetic policy, shocked the moral sense of many. The French were prepared to make alliance with the Mahrattas, who were now against the English. It was a critical moment. The energy of Hastings triumphed, and by 1782 India was saved to England. There was no question of the services which Hastings had rendered, but the misery which the wars had occasioned stirred the sympathy of people at home, while the stories of bribery and op pression which reached them aroused indignation. Hastings was impeached. Fox and Sheridan took part in the accusation, but the leading spirit was Edmund Burke, the greatest and most sagacious political thinker of his time, a man possessing a sovereign sense of justice, and a temperament chivalrous and humane. Burke's narra tive in the trial of Warren Hastings made a deep impression. Hastings began almost to believe in his own guilt. After a trial which lasted several years (1795) the House of Lords acquitted Hastings, but a victory for humanity and morality had been gained. It became impossible for rulers abroad to ignore public opinion at home, and public opinion at home was reminded that there were Christian principles of justice and charity which should have a place in the government of subject races. It was time that a Christian spirit should show itself in social and public matters. The spirit of timid prudence had prevailed too long. The dread of disturbance had 382 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [,7S4_ led to the dread of doing anything, and so the unknown consequences of activity had become a sort of bogey to statesmen of the type of Sir Robert Walpole. The dis abilities of the Dissenters were not to be dis- The Evangelical cussed in Parliament for fear of the passions Movement which might be aroused. The Houses of Philanthropy. Convocation were to be silent for fear of the excitement of their debates. It is true that there are times when silence is the best policy; and in all probability the instinct of Sir Robert Walpole was, considering the inflammable materials with which he had to deal, largely right. But movement is indispens able to life and health, and the policy of silence, like a stagnant pool, breeds evils. Thus evils grew up out of the golden policy. Timidity ceasing to be reverent timidity became a selfish fear, and indifference to duty and to humanity is the comrade of such fear. Men looked on callously at the ignorance and degradation around them, because their deeper sympathies, not being called into play, had grown irresponsive. Severe laws ruled, and the rigorous execution of them hardened the hearts of men. The criminal classes grew reckless and defiant. The fashionable classes became indifferent to the sufferings and miseries of those who were the victims first of neglect and then of savage laws. Vice in the higher as well as the lower circles was common and shameless, while among the middle classes, which have always been the salt of English social life, almost alone was virtue to be found, for in the middle classes religion still made its home. From the middle classes came the great healing stream which saved society. They supplied the religious leaders who were to begin the work of social salvation. The Wesleys belonged to this class, and White- field, though springing from what must be called its lowest stratum, claimed a place in it. The same was the case i8oo] THE EVANGELICAL CLERGY 383 with those who carried on and extended the movement for good in a religious or social direction. Thomas Scott, the Venns, Philip Doddridge, Harvey, Fletcher, John Howard, Clarkson, and Wilberforce all belonged to that class to which has been given neither poverty nor riches, and which is equally removed from the degradation of ignor ance and that of fashion. The religious movement, commenced by the Wesleys, extended itself to a certain section of the clergy of the Church of England, who were stirred by the wave of en thusiasm which gathered round that work. These were termed the Evangelical or New Light clergy, and they are looked upon as the fathers of what was called the Evangelical movement in the Church of England. Their number increased, and, as might be expected, some of the more ardent spirits were tempted into erratic experiments, and in their fervour were inclined to disregard the quiet order of the Church. But the greater number, loyal to the Prayer Book and its rubrics, were distinguished by the zealousness with which they discharged their duty, by the blamelessness of their lives, by their inflexible standard of right and wrong, by their love of the name of Christ, and by a deep and rich inward experience of religion. The drama of the individual soul was to them full of absorbing interest. They knew that God ruled the world by His providence, but they knew also that by His Spirit He wrought in the spirits of men. Like the Psalmist, they rejoiced in what the Lord had done for their souls, and they were never tired of telling that He had dealt lovingly with them. In the early days of the religious movement there were those who inclined to Calvinistic and those who inclined to what was called Arminian teaching (see p. 269). But as the movement went on and practical needs were pressed upon men's minds, this line of division, except where it had stiffened into separate organisations, became 384 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [,754- less apparent. The controversial age, in fact, was dying away. The age of practical Christianity was at hand. As men's spirits were awakened to the deeper aspects of life, and they realised God, and eternity, man's immortality, sin and righteousness, they began to care for the poor, the sick, the enslaved, the ill-treated. Philanthropy dawned, but it came in the wake of a religious revival. This philanthropy found its expression in many directions. It went forth in the spirit of Christ, and wherever it met with human need it was ready to help. The pioneer in one direction was John Howard, a quiet and retiring man, who by nature would have avoided pub licity. He was happy to spend his days in the theWGaoisnd stucty 0I" ms Bible ; but there is a courage-giving power in the divine impulses, which are God's call to elect souls. In 1756 the news of the great earth quake at Lisbon stirred the benevolent heart of Howard, then thirty years of age. He started for Lisbon. His voyage brought a never-to-be-forgotten experience. He was captured and imprisoned by the French, and he learned something of the miseries of prison life. Seventeen years later (1773) he was appointed High Sheriff of Bedford shire, an office which made him acquainted with the prison system. He then saw what he had little dreamed of, a condition of things which was creditable neither to the humanity nor to the Christianity of England. He com menced his pilgrimage of beneficence. He visited the gaols, not only of England, but of foreign countries, and thus made himself acquainted, by observation and by personal experience, with the horrors to which prisoners were exposed. The gaol was the nursery of vice and the den of disease. By his writings the eyes of the public were opened, and he led the way to a better state of things ; but he became a martyr in the cause of humanity, for he died of fever contracted in the course of his re- THE TERPENDICULAR PERIOD. THE WEST FRONT OF WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. From a photograph by S. B. Bolas and Co. To face p. 384. iSoo] SUNDAY SCHOOLS 385 searches. He was buried where he died, far away from home in the south of Russia. The condition of the poor in the country districts appealed to another choice spirit of those times. Hannah More, who did much with her pen to commend Hannah More religious thought to cultivated people, threw and the herself with sympathy into the cause of the abourers- poor in the country districts. She saw how ignorance and crime went hand in hand, and by her personal exertions, as well as by her writings, she worked on behalf of the rural labouring classes. The children were not forgotten. Mr. Raikes at Gloucester, and a shoemaker named Pounds at Portsmouth, saw that one effectual method of public reform lay in the old proverb that "prevention was |uhldaiy better than cure." The best way to diminish the number of the criminal classes was to remove the causes which led to the increase of crime. They believed that children had a claim to know something of the God who made them, and of the life of righteousness and service to which Christ had redeemed them. These men com menced their work by teaching such children as they could gather on Sundays, and out of these small beginnings arose the Sunday School system. A little more than a hundred years have passed since these noble-hearted men made their venture of faith; and now the number of Sunday School teachers in England and Wales is reckoned as more than six hundred thousand, and the number of children taught in Sunday Schools is little short of six millions. These are forms of philanthropy which we can under stand. It is more difficult for us, who live in days of well-recognised freedom, to realise what was T. _. perhaps the blackest blot upon the civilisation Trade, of those d-ws— the slave trade. The traffic in ,'83-»833- 2 c 386 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION ^754- human beings was common in the early middle ages. The Moor would make the Christians slaves, and Christians in their turn practised slavery. There was a feeling against those who made slaves of fellow-Christians ; but it was long before even the religious world caught the spirit of Christ's redemption, and recognised the brotherhood of the whole human race. The deep sense of the meaning of the work of Christ for the world had laid hold of the hearts of men in England so strongly, that they felt that all men were precious, seeing that Christ had died for all. England, through her victories over Spain, had become the chief slave trading country, and the horrors of this traffic were jnade known to the English public. They then learned how slaves were shipped from Africa to work in America or the West Indian colonies, how the shipment of these unfortunate creatures was carried on without regard to humanity, how the slaves were packed by hundreds into narrow spaces, and how they perished on the voyage through sickness, suffocation, or ill-treatment. When once the facts became known there were not wanting Christian men to take up the cause of the slave. The task was a gigantic one, for against the philanthropist there was set the strong combination of shippers, sugar planters, and slave-holders. It was the old conflict of humanity against prejudice, supported by mammon. Gain blinded the eyes of some ; bigotry and custom the eyes of others. Against these difficulties Clarkson and William Wilber force, whose names will for ever be associated with the wilberforce cause of freedom, set themselves with chivalrous and courage, enlightened enthusiasm, and dogged patience. The story of the dawn of this great crusade is worth reading. It is ever memorable as showing that if a man will but listen to the quiet voice of God within him, he will be shown the way to achieve great things for the world. It is 1783, and Clarkson, then a young Cambridge i8oo] THE SLAVERY QUESTION 387 man, has gained a great university distinction ; he has won an essay prize. The subject of the essay had been the question whether men had the right to enslave one another. Clarkson is on the road between Cambridge and London. His mind has been at work, and he sits down on the roadside to think. He has won a prize; but is he to be the utterer of mere theories ? Do not moral judgments on great questions bring duties? Can he condemn the slave trade as a theory and not oppose it as a practice? His resolution is taken ; he will act as well as write. He dedicates himself to this great task; he spends years among the traders and sailors, gathering materials for his campaign; he publishes a report of the evidence he has collected. He has spent five years over his task, but he has laid the foundation of the work. The attention of William Wilberforce is attracted. The next scene gives us the picture of two young statesmen conversing under the shadow of an old tree. At their feet lies a pleasant English valley. The two thus conversing are friends ; they are barely thirty years of age. One is the youngest of Prime Ministers, William Pitt ; the other is his friend, William Wilberforce. The conversation is historic, for its result is that Wilberforce resolves to move in Parliament for the abolition of the slave trade, and is able to do so with the assured sympathy of William Pitt. But, even under such favourable circumstances, the campaign is destined to be a long one ; it will be eighteen years before the decisive battle is fought and won ; it will be more than forty years before the campaign is brought to a victorious close. But the men who have begun are not men to turn back. William Wilberforce knows well in whose footsteps he has to follow. "You want to be a reformer," said a sagacious worldling to the young philanthropist. " You know how reformers are treated," and he pointed to the picture of the crucified Christ. There could have been 388 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [i7S4- no stronger incentive to zeal given to Wilberforce. It was because he knew something of the love of Christ that he was ready to fight the battle of the slave. In this spirit he fought, and he lived to reach the goal of his noble ambition. The later years of the century closed with an outburst of missionary zeal. Whatever can be said by way of The reproach concerning the deadness of the Church Evangelical in the middle of the century, no person can doubt that she was alive at the close. She was alive in the deep piety of multitudes of her clergy and people. The power of her life was seen in the number of men who were conspicuous as leaders of religious thought and activity. Thus at the time when the public mind was entranced, thrilled, or startled by the French Revolution, there were working in different places men who were giving evidence of the vitality of the Church. Fletcher, the apostle of Madeley, had just died ; John Berridge, cultivated and witty, possessed of a fund of irrepressible humour — born, as he said of himself, with a fool's cap on his head — was, with his ever hungry zeal for doing good, extending his labours far beyond the range of his own parish at Everton. Romaine, who "lived more with God than with men," was preaching in London, and by his striking book, The Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith, had placed before men's minds the truths by which he himself was living. Henry Venn, who had reached a region of Christian life higher than many of his con temporaries, was working in the small country village of Yelling. When asked by an officious theological zealot whether a certain clergyman was a Calvinist or Arminian, he replied, in words which should be long remembered, '.' I really do not know ; he is a sincere disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, and that is of infinitely more importance than his being a disciple of Calvin or Arminius." John Newton, 1800] THE CLAPHAM SECT 389 at St. Mary Woolnoth, who had passed through the ex perience first of a wild and abandoned life, and then of a divine rescuing love, was the chosen friend and director of many who were prominent in the religious world. He was a helper and counsellor of William Cowper, Thomas Scott, Hannah More, and William Wilberforce. He was an Ahithophel among the leaders of the religious move ments of the times. Richard Cecil, a man with a culti vated dislike of extremes, either Roman or Puritan, was drawing thoughtful people to his church at Bedford Row. At Hull, Joseph Milner was making one of the finest parish churches of the East Riding a centre of religious life. At Cambridge, Isaac Milner, who, as Senior Wrangler, had been declared incomparabilis, was leavening the University with more serious views of life, duty, and faith. Just about the same time (1797) William Wilber force had issued his book called The Practical View of Christianity, in which he pressed upon men the importance of translating their creed into a living and practical reality. In all directions influences for good were at work in the personal example of many clergymen and laymen, who were conspicuous for the devotion of their lives. Eminent among such laymen were those leaders of piety and philan thropy, the Thorntons of Clapham, whose munificent and single-minded liberality was the result of simple Christian principle. The Thorntons gathered round them a circle of persons of strict and even narrow views, but of deep and sterling piety, who became known as the Clapham Sect. Lastly, there was one who, while teaching the world to love God and all the sweet, dear things which God had made, had done much to rescue poetry from artificial and pedantic bondage, and who had provided the Church with some hymns of true and pathetic earnestness. This was William Cowper, whose songs sprang out of his sorrows, and his devotion out of his despair. Deep dejection 390 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION re marked the last years of his life, which closed with the century. These men exercised a strong and persistent public in fluence. . That influence was mainly practical and popular. It appealed, indeed, in some degree to the intellect of the cultivated classes ; still more to that of the middle class and to the more intelligent section of the lower class, but in its practical aspects it appealed to all, for it sought to make religion a thing of daily life and personal obedience. In doing this, the way was prepared by which the reviving energy of the Church might flow into more useful channels. Questions affecting Christian faith were still discussed. The voices of dispute Were not silent. While Wilberforce was an undergraduate at Cambridge, there appeared a book which provoked much controversy, and has be come an English classic. This was Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Like Hume's Essays, it caused disturbance and apprehension in religious circles ; for one chapter was devoted to a consideration of the causes which led to the spread of Christianity. Among these causes no Gibbon, 1776. . . .,_,... divine power was mentioned. Christianity was represented as the outcome of natural conditions, the product of human thought, and its success was largely attributed to favourable circumstances. Occupying a lower place altogether was a book which reached a Reason " 1794. large class of readers. This was The Age of Reason, by Thomas Paine. It was violent, and it adopted the tone of ridicule and misrepresentation. It was openly irreligious. It was answered by Bishop Watson in his Apology for Christianity. The close of the century was marked by the writings of William Paley, a man who possessed in a remarkable Paley, degree the power of lucid exposition. He had '743-i8°5. no subtlety to hinder his thoughts or his 1800] MISSIONARY REVIVAL 391 expression of them. He had, his father said, " the clear est head he had ever met with." It was this clearness and directness of mind which enabled him to do such service in his time. His work, on the Evidences of Christianity, which appeared in 1794, is still a text-book at Cambridge. His greater work, Horce Paulina, set out the undesigned coincidences between the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles of St. Paul, which established with unconscious force the credibility of the story of St. Paul. In the last year of the century (1800) Paley published his book on Natural Theology, where the evidence of design, as it is called, in nature is appealed to as proof of the existence of a God. Thus the century, which began with apologies for the divine right of kings and bishops, ends with an apology for the exist ence of a God. So far did the spirit of inquiry carry the thoughts of men. But though controversial questions sometimes fretted the surface of the stream, the dominant current of the in fluence then at work set in the direction of practical, benevolent, and missionary activity. Jf^J^J"7 The energy of these men collected and guided the national forces which worked against the slave trade, turned public attention to the importance of education, and powerfully assisted in the establishment of Sunday Schools. From their midst also sprang societies of more distinctly missionary character, the Religious Tract Society (1799); the Bible Society — begun in a tentative way in 1787, though not founded till 1804 — and the Church Missionary Society in 1799. New ways of service were created for Christian people,, and there was pointed out once more the noble path of world-wide usefulness in the revival of an Apostolic and Missionary spirit. While these religious influences were leavening the nation, the people of England were gaining political power. 392 PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [1754- Perhaps it would not be unfair to say that the beginning of the eighteenth century saw England possessed! of a The Cause ""ee constitution ; the end of the century saw of the England beginning to realise that she was a eopie. j-ree natjon -phg intervening years brought the extension and practical application of the principles which the Revolution of 1688 had established. For some years the country felt its way slowly. As the century advanced, the cause of freedom made rapid strides. In 1763 disturbances began over a man named John Wilkes. Wilkes was a worthless character; but a ragged flag may be the ensign of a great cause, and Wilkes stood for liberty. Middlesex elected Wilkes. The House of Commons expelled him. Wilkes was re-elected. Again the House expelled him. A third time Wilkes was elected. The House of Commons in acting as it did appeared to claim a veto over every election. They said, in effect, to the electors : ' You can choose whom you like, but we shall set aside your choice if we do not like the man you have chosen.' Thus the conflict involved the principle whether the House of Commons can override the free choice of the electors. Eventually the people won. The ragged flag was nothing in itself, but with it freedom won a victory. The cause of the people triumphed. It triumphed again when in 1771 the freedom of the Press to report and to comment on Parliamentary proceedings was established ; and once again when in the following year Lord Mansfield laid down the law that the moment the slave touches English soil he becomes free. The cause of the people was aided by the brain of practical thinkers. Arkwright, Crompton, and Watt added a glory to their age and country by their in- Economics11 venti°ns- Machinery brought comforts within reach of the poor. Canals were made, and industry grew with easier means of transport. Great 1800] THE RISE OF ROMANTICISM 393 manufacturing centres sprang up in the northern counties where coal and iron were found. The newly-found re sources of the country added to its wealth, and its prosperity was further increased by the sound economic teaching of Adam Smith, and its courageous application by William Pitt. Labour and the free interchange of commodities between land and land were believed to be better roads to commercial prosperity than tariffs which destroyed trade, or artificial laws which disorganised it. Thus, as the century drew to its close, political and industrial changes worked for the people's freedom and the people's good. A great wave, moreover, French of popular enthusiasm broke out. The French Revolution, Revolution made the cry of Liberty, Equality, I? 9' and Fraternity heard throughout Europe. It failed to realise the high hopes which it raised, because it lacked some of the elements which are indispensable to successful reform. Its aim was too visionary, for it arose from a belief in the possibility of turning theories into practice, while ignoring some fundamental facts of the problem. It attempted to construct society de novo, forgetful that societies grow, and are not made, and that the constitution of a nation is the product of centuries. It began with the enthusiasm of Liberty, it ended in a military despotism which sacrificed the blood of millions in the attempt to enslave other peoples. The hands with which it wrought contradicted the voice with which it spoke. Nevertheless, the voice which was raised on behalf of the people spoke great and true things. The quick imagination and ready sympathy of poets took fire. Everywhere new songs were heard, and a PolttyW new age of poetry began. The timid fastidious ness of a previous period was left behind. Men were turning to nature, and the new poets sang of the joy of life, of the right of the people to a share in its joy, of the 39+ PHILANTHROPY AND RELIGION [i754- dignity of simple things, of the beauty which lay at every door. They denounced the conventional worldliness of soul which was blind to these beauties. " Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given away our hearts, a sordid boon." Poetry moved by this spirit disdained artificial restraints and the cultivated correctness which secured refinement by the sacrifice of strength. It claimed the right to be natural. It preferred the flowers of the field to the more wonderful products of the hothouse. It sought to awaken sympathy by keeping close to nature, and to show the beauty of simple things by the light of imagination. In moving towards nature it became the voice of the many. Not only the products of the earth, but the products of human genius and imagination were put at the service of the people. The poet no longer sang to please some titled patron, or prostituted his verse by compulsory panegyric. He began to see that what was common to all was of more account than the inherited privileges of the few. Man and manhood, not rank or accidental advantages, are to be admired. And these became the poet's theme. " The rank is but the guinea stamp, The man 's the gowd for a' that." It was well that wholesome and manly influences were at work, for England needed all her manhood as the dark evening of the century drew near. John Bull loves liberty, but liberty to him does not mean the right to of Agony' make a noise, to tear down valuable institutions, and cut off countless heads. Liberty to him means the right to sit unmolested at his own fireside, choose his own work, and grumble as much as he pleases at the Constitution he loves, and the Government which he does not mean to upset. The very name of liberty began to be hateful in the ears of Englishmen when 1800] THE CLOSE OF THE CENTURY 395 it was shrieked aloud by the unsexed women of the Revolution in France. Fraternity seemed a meaningless song when its music was the click of the guillotine. The wild scenes in France provoked a reaction in England, for Englishmen agreed with Burke that when liberty is sundered from justice, neither liberty nor justice is safe. The reaction became one of panic, the cause of sober freedom was thrown back for years, beneficial reforms were postponed for a generation. Meanwhile England was plunged into war with France. The great struggle which lasted with but short intermission for twenty years began in 1793, and soon England was menaced by dangers on all sides. Ireland, maddened by unjust laws and stirred up by French Revolutionists, rose in revolt, while political and military movements abroad left England with out an ally. The fleets at Spithead and the Nore mutinied (1797). The Bank of England stopped payment. The funds fell to half their nominal value. The splendid victory of the Nile sent a gleam of light across the dark, but the outlook was gloomy indeed, and near and far off was the sound of threatening voices. Thus round the dying bed of the century many and various voices are heard. The voices of menace and storm are perhaps the loudest ; but soft and clear enough to secure attention are other and more reassuring voices, the voice of new-found energy, the voices of those who are rejoicing in widening opportunities and more consciously realised freedom, the voices of poets who are lifting up freer and fresher songs, the voices of those who can hail in philanthropic and missionary work a new advent of the kingdom of God. Amid the sad voices which are chanting the requiem of the past there may be heard voices full of hope, singing their welcome of the new century over the death-bed of the old. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE BEGINNINGS OF THE CENTURY A.D. 1801-1833 In the early years of the nineteenth century the thoughts of Englishmen were mainly occupied with the great war and its varying fortunes. The name of Napoleon Buona parte was on everyone's lips. He was the bogey with which foolish nursemaids frightened children into obedi ence. Politics abroad were more thought of than politics at home. Social questions had to stand aside in days when national safety was felt to be endangered. The empire must draw closer together in the day of peril, for every symptom of division might mean weakness. Ireland had at the close of the century a separate Parliament, but now it was felt that the kingdom would ireiandWi8oi De stronger if a Parliamentary union with Ireland could be effected. An Act of Union was passed, and after January ist, 1801, Ireland, like Scot land, became a part of the United Kingdom, and the brief and brilliant life of the Irish Parliament came to an end. The union with Ireland carried with it one ecclesiastical consequence. The Church in Ireland became one with the Church in England. The conditions of the union were one Crown, one Parliament, one Church. The Irish branch of the Church ought by consequence to have had its Houses of Convocation. This was promised, but it was first post poned and finally ignored, and, as the English Houses of 396 1801-33] EDUCATION 397 Convocation were not meeting for business, the defect was not keenly felt at the time. The Irish Church, like so many other things Irish, had been badly treated by the English Government. There had been little care to send to Ireland men of strong character, or of pious and missionary spirit. Ireland was far enough away to be a convenient place to send importunate suitors, and the patronage of the Crown often filled Irish bishoprics and deaneries with men whom it was necessary to satisfy and convenient to get rid of. In spite of these disadvantages, however, there were men in Ireland who shed a lustre on their Church. In the seventeenth century Ussher and Bedell and Jeremy Taylor were among its bishops ; in the eighteenth century it could boast that Bishop Berkeley's intellectual eminence and splendid disinterestedness atoned for a host of inferior men. From 1801 till 1869, when it was disestablished and disendowed, its history is incorporated in the history of the Church, which during that period was known as the United Church of England and Ireland. Notwithstanding the distractions of the great war, and the consequent heavy taxation of the nation, good and generous work was done in England. Public attention had been called to the ignorance of ncatlon. the people, and early in the century good and earnest people set about more carefully-considered schemes of instruction. In 1803 a Quaker schoolmaster named Lan caster came forward as the advocate of a national system of education. The result of his efforts was the foundation in 1807 of the British and Foreign School Society. The Church was not long in following a similar path, and in 181 1 the National Society was established. There arose, too, about this time, a little band of simple and devoted Churchmen, who, because some lived in the neighbourhood of Clapton, were called the The Clapton Clapton Sect. Among the worthies of the Sect- 398 BEGINNINGS OF THE CENTURY [tSoi- so-called Clapton Sect were Mr. Sikes and Mr. Norris, Dr. Wordsworth and others, but perhaps the one whose name should be most fitly remembered was Mr. Joshua Watson, a layman, who played at Clapton a similar part to that taken by Mr. Henry Thornton at Clapham. The " Clapham Sect " was thus followed by the Clapton Sect in happy rivalry in good works. These men threw themselves with quiet and self-sacrificing fervour into every effort for practical good. They desired not only that the Church should take her part in missionary and educational progress, but that the system of the Church should be ex tended in such work. They therefore supported the National Society, whose schools were to be Church of England schools. They turned their eyes abroad and they realised the need of missionary work, but they wished that wherever the gospel went the system of the Church should go with it. They naturally thought much of India, for in the early years of the century the victories of Sir Arthur Wellesley (afterwards Duke of Wellington) at Assaye and Argaum had overthrown the Mahratta power, and had strengthened English hold on India. A scheme was set on foot to found a bishopric at Calcutta. To us the idea is simple enough, but ninety years ago men were more timid, and even good Churchmen hesitated. In this good work the Clapham and the Clapton Sects happily co-operated, and all hesi tation was finally overcome. Earnestness and devotion succeeded, and in 1814 Bishop Middleton was able to go out as the first Bishop of Calcutta, the first of a long line of distinguished and devoted men, which includes the names of Heber and Cotton. The example set in the East was followed in the West Indies, and ten years later the bishoprics of Jamaica and Barbadoes were established. The population of the United Kingdom was growing rapidly. It has been estimated that in the first fifteen years of the century its population increased by 3,000,000. 1833] CHURCH REFORM 399 To meet these growing needs church building, long neg lected, was now promoted with vigour. The more Christian zeal and energy grew the more clearly did men see what ought to be done. It is one of the results of religious revival that growing light enables foes as well as friends to see defects. The need of new Reform churches called attention to the state of the Church's funds, and men began to awaken to the anomalies that existed. Bishoprics were very unequal in value. Some yielded an income of more than ^20,000 a year, others provided hardly enough to meet expenses. There were more than 4000 livings in England and Wales which were under ^150 a year; there were almost 5000 in which there was no vicarage or only an unfit one. This state of things had led to much evil. When benefices were poor men could not afford to hold them alone, and so the custom of holding more than one benefice at the same time, or a system of " pluralities," as it was called, prevailed. The result was that some parishes were neglected. This state of things caused scandal. The eyes of friend and foe were opened, and in 1831 a Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into the revenues of the Church. This Royal Commission marks a time which ushered in a very re markable movement in the Church, known as the Oxford Movement, which will be more fitly considered later on. We must now watch the various currents of thought which singly or else in combination prepared the way for more conspicuous movements. The great senti- DiSCOntent ment of freedom which had lost popularity and through the violence of the French Revolu- Reaction- tionists was only held in abeyance. It was alive, and it showed itself in vigour when the pressure of the great war and the fear of violence were removed. When peace came it brought with it new forces to the support of the liberal sentiment. Real distress and a vague discontent with 400 BEGINNINGS OF THE CENTURY [1801- existing institutions became its allies. In 1815 the power of Napoleon was finally broken at Waterloo. The peace which ensued dislocated trade, and caused agricultural dis tress. Corn, which had been dear during the war, now fell in price. The manufacturing districts suffered, for during the war period continental manufacturers had produced little, and England had enjoyed a large market for its goods ; but trade shrank with the coming of peace. Thus while taxation was still high the country lost a measure of its prosperity. A bad harvest further added to the distress. Straitness and discontent produced impatience. When riots took place, and even conspiracies were set on foot, public feeling took alarm, and Acts of Parliament were passed with the view of diminishing the opportunities of popular violence. Public meetings were particularly dreaded, and these, except under stringent George°m. conditions, were now forbidden. Thus when George III. died, in 1820, the sentiment of the governing classes was largely one of dislike of mob orators, and dread of mass meetings. But underneath the surface the love of freedom was still strong, and the conviction that government existed for the good and happiness of the people was growing. This conviction was destined to be strengthened by philosophers and poets at home, and by practical lessons on the Conti nent. Jeremy Bentham, a writer of clear but limited range of vision, of vigorous and practical mind, laid down the doctrine that government and institutions existed for the greatest good of the greatest number — a proposition of unquestionable truth, if the greatest good is allowed to include the highest good. Poets like Byron and Shelley sounded notes of freedom, in which the cry of revolt against existing institutions was heard. The Congress, which had settled the map of Europe after the fall of Napoleon, had restored to different countries their former i833] THE LIBERTY MOVEMENT 401 governments and dynasties. These in some cases meant bad rulers and oppressive governments. Then it was seen that the sentiment of freedom once awakened was not to be crushed by laws, or strangled by reactionary diplomacy. In Spain, in Portugal, in Italy revolution broke out. Greece made a noble and successful effort to win its in dependence. Enthusiastic young Englishmen Enthusiasm hastened to put their lives and fortunes at for National the disposal of those whom they believed to Freedom' be fighting for liberty. Lord Byron identified himself with Greece, and fell on her behalf, dying of fever at Missolonghi in 1824. It was the happiness of the Church of England that, in all the changes which befell her, she had both a love of truth and an instinct that the past must count for something in her life. She accepted the comprehen- free energies of the Reformation period ; she siveness of repudiated the tyrannies of medisevalism, but England"' she did not do so merely because they were old, she did so rather because they were not old enough. She saw that they were tyrannies of ignorance rather than of knowledge, and she brought to bear upon the problem the spirit of liberty, which claims the right to ask what is true, and which refuses to accept things merely because they have been. She gave the chief place to truth, but she certainly gave the second place to what was venerable — to all that was consecrated by ancient usage and sacred association. She received nothing, and she rejected nothing, simply because it was old. She had a passion for what was true ; she had an instinctive veneration for what was old ; she would pay any price for truth ; she would pay any reasonable price for continuity. When we speak thus of the Church of England we are summarising the tendencies which she exhibited in the history of two or three hundred perilous years. Among her sons, indeed, there were 2 D 402 BEGINNINGS OF THE CENTURY [,8oi- those who favoured extremes in one direction or another. Hooper would have refused what was old without much reverence ; Bishop Montague was ready to adopt almost anything which could show even a mediaeval sanction. But these men, though of the Church of England, by no means represented her spirit ; these were the eddying wavelets on the sides of the stream, they did not indicate the direction of the current. That current set towards an end which, if it was never clearly seen by any one man, was nevertheless the ideal dimly recognised by many who never wavered as to the principles which should guide them. Perhaps those principles might be expressed by three words in the following order : first, truth ; next, freedom ; lastly, ancient order. In discovering the first she gave the supreme deter mining authority to Scripture ; in securing the first she knew that she must secure the second ; in seeking the third she opened her eyes to all that was truly attested by the ancient Fathers. Thus she became a Church Scriptural, Catholic, Reformed, and Protestant. Scriptural, because the Bible was her rule of faith ; Catholic, because she made not the medifeval Catholic but the primitive and apostolic Catholic Church her model; Reformed, because, recognising the simple fact that evil customs and false teachings had arisen, she resolutely set them aside ; Protestant, because she fully and frankly identified herself with the great movement towards light and freedom, which protested then, as it protests now, against ecclesiastical claims and erroneous teachings which are neither scriptural nor catholic. Thus the Church of England finally refused to identify herself with Rome, protesting against her uncatholic claims, and distinguished herself from other protesting Churches by the reverent care with which she sought to preserve continuity with the past. You will see how the position reached by the Church of England gives rise to the possibilities of further movements i833] LATENT CHURCH TENDENCIES 403 within her bosom. The Evangelical movement was not a Church movement at all, that is, it did not deal with the organisation of the Church, it dealt rather with the duties of the Church. It was a call to the "panston. Church to fulfil the work which God had given her to do — to heal the sick, relieve the oppressed, teach the ignorant, deliver those who were in bondage, and preach the Gospel. It did not ask whence the Church had arisen, it did not raise questions about her relation to the State : it simply urged the Church to do as Christ had done. But the age of historic investigation was coming, and dis coveries in the wide fields of nature were about to be made which would recall men's minds to the meaning and value of continuity. The Church of England had not severed the link with the past ; and she could not therefore expect, even if she had wished, that the past would exert no in fluence over her. Again, she had thrown in her lot with freedom : she had accepted the Reformation principle of proving all things. It was not to be expected that this principle would remain barren in her bosom. She had brought three principles into union under her roof — the scriptural, the historic, the free. She believed that there need be no discord between them. This was her faith, and in the long run her faith will be justified ; but time will be needed for the harmonious co-operation of these principles. In trying to work out their several functions they often appear to interfere with one another. The eye will some times anticipate the ear, and the hand at times Functions will anticipate both ; but where eye and ear and of the hand have learned not only their individual ar les' functions but the value of co-operative action, a harmony of power will be established more valuable than could be reached by separate activity. The man of thought is the eye of the Church ; the man of historic precedent is her ear; the man of spiritual activity is the hand. In the 404 BEGINNINGS OF THE CENTURY [1801- Evangelical movement the Church put forth her hand and laid it once more upon the plough. In the High Church movement she will learn how to drive her furrows ; in the Broad Church movement she will learn how to occupy new fields of labour. The nineteenth century begins with the Evangelical movement ; it sees the rise of the High Church movement ; it closes with the influence of the Broad. It also sees how all three are beginning to blend into harmony of action ; for while it hears loud voices, more positive and more ignorant than in any past age of the Church, asking the world to accept as complete pictures, miserable travesties of Catholicism and Protestantism from which the true flavour of Catholicism and Protestantism has evaporated, it sees in the bulk of Churchmen, men who have been able to sift chaff from the wheat, an increasing body of men who are broad in view because not afraid of asking what is true, high in view because realising that the past must share in the present, Evangelical because per suaded that wherever else the kingdom of God is it is necessarily, chiefly and indispensably, a kingdom within, and personally recognisable by, the spirit of man. But we must not anticipate. To understand the drift of the events which marked our Church history between 1820 and 1870 we must try and estimate the pre- noT-prartfs°adny vailmg tone of thought and feeling. Organised Church parties did not exist. We talk now of High, Broad, and Low Church parties, as if the Church of England was composed of these divisions, just as an army is composed of cavalry, artillery, and infantry. But this is a mere delusion. In Church politics, as in other politics, there is a mass of thought and opinion which distrusts partisanship. On particular occasions this mass may move to one side or the other, but it never wholly identifies itself with any one side. Though we must speak of movements which are for the sake of convenience called 1833] THE CENTRAL CHURCHMEN 4O5 by party names, yet we must not overlook the great central force which may remain for a long time passive, but in emergencies will exert itself for the protection of what is best and for the discountenance of what is extravagant. This force is seldom marked by enthusiasm, but it is usually characterised by good sense. It has much strength among the laity, who create a dispassionate public opinion by looking at affairs in a practical and business-like way. It has strength among the clergy, the bulk of whom have sometimes tolerated, perhaps defended, but more generally have deplored, party organisations and party agitation They have been quietly conservative of past conditions and methods. Believing in the parochial system and in the good which can be done by steady and unsensational work, they have not welcomed violent methods or startling changes. In quietness and confidence has been their strength. These are the men who through the long line of the Church's history have believed in calm piety, systematic devotion, and practical religion. If we had known them in England some seventy years ago, we should have found them to be men who looked upon the Ten Commandments and the Church Catechism as a soldier looks upon his drill book. On their shelves would be found the works of Hooker, Bingham, Jeremy Taylor, and Waterland. Their Bible, side by side with their Prayer Book, was always on their study table. They recommended, but with a caution, the works of William Law. They liked, as poets, Pope and Gray. They had a friendly word for Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical Sonnets. • They enjoyed Scott's novels. They thought it a natural and harmless recreation to take a hand at whist, and they showed their classical tastes by many an apt quotation. They were sometimes seen in the hunting field, but they never forgot their calling, and they could rebuke an oath from the saddle. They hated Radicals and revolution. Byron and Shelley were their abomination. They believed 406 BEGINNINGS OP THE CENTURY [,833 in keeping the poor in their proper place, but they always had in their cellars a bottle of good port to send to the sick cottager to pick up his strength. They took in the Quarterly, they read the Guardian, and they studied the Morning Herald. They disliked Dissent and Dis senters ; and perhaps they disliked the Evangelicals more. If they had sons they went to Oxford, for they did not wish to expose them to the influence of Charles Simeon. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE OXFORD MOVEMENT a.d. 1833-1845 The religious influence which prevailed during the first generation of the nineteenth century was the Evangelical influence. The first fathers of that movement had passed away. Henry Yenn, Joseph Milner, Romaine, Berridge, and the elder Thornton were dead ; influences* but there were men of strength and devotion to fill their places. Cecil and John Newton were still alive. William Wilberforce, young and vigorous, was prose cuting his noble enterprise. But to find the metropolis of religious influence we must go to / Cambridge, where Isaac Milner was President of Queen's/ College, and where a Fellow of King's College, Charles S/imeon by name, was winning a wide and unique influence. When the century opened Milner was fifty years of age, and Simeon was just over forty. The former was a man who had a nervous dread of controversy and petty janglings. He wrote little, though his learning was unquestioned. He has been described as a sort of Evangelical Dr. Johnson, possessed of a robust understanding, ready wit, and of fluent powers of conversation. He was the connecting link between the earlier and later Evangelicals. But the chief influence at Cambridge was that of Charles Simeon, a man Charles of sterling piety, allied. with some surface faults Simeon. 407 408 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- which were disproportionally conspicuous. He was almost morbidly particular on some matters, and on these he showed surprising irritability ; yet he was courteous to the point of affectation, and possessed, along with a zeal which was for ever chiding itself for not being more zealous, a strong vein of good sense. He won by his courage, devotion, and splendid self-sacrifice a position of boundless influence at Cambridge. From Cambridge he influenced all England. In spite of the jeers of worldly men he drew around him a crowd of undergraduates, whom he inspired, trained, and sent forth to be centres of influence elsewhere. For fifty-four years he laboured at Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge. He refused an estate and a fortune rather than forsake the work to which he felt called, but he became at Cambridge what no other man at either Uni versity ever became before or since. Except the influence which Newman exerted at Oxford, no other can compare with Simeon's at Cambridge. In the view of Bishop Charles Wordsworth, his following of young men was greater than that of Newman at Oxford; but whether this be true or not, Newman's influence extended only over a few short and brilliant years, which ended with the eclipse of his secession, whereas Simeon continued and sustained his influence, living and dying at Cambridge ; and when he died every shop was closed, every lecture suspended, and the funeral became irresistibly public, because the whole University and town crowded to do him honour. The death of Charles Simeon marks the point at which the sceptre of popular influence begins to pass from the hands of the Evangelical body. It marks the period of reaction. Many influences of thought, sentiment, and politics contributed to this reaction. It is no disparagement of the Evangelical movement to say that it was weak in intellectual and political range. It gave to England a phalanx of noble-hearted men,. MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 408. 1845] NEW PROBLEMS 409 who, by the intensity of their devotion, the indisputable piety and self-denial of their lives, their religious experience, and their practical philanthropy, redeemed the Church of England from the charge of worldli- weakness"of ness and laxity. It showed that by simple and Evangelical apostolical lives the clergy could regain for the Church the respect of the nation. It is in the light of these services that they have been called the second founders of the Church of England. But, conspicuous as these men were for zeal and spirituality, they were not as a rule marked by eminent intellectual force. The bulk of them were men of moderate abilities, more sedulous than brilliant, and even those who, like the Milners and Romaine, might have taken rank among men of illumination, were prone to disparage mental gifts with the sincere but mistaken view of exalting the grace of God. As long as the move ment was in the hands of those who, though thus repudiating human genius, yet retained mental vigour, it commended itself to thoughtful people. But when the freshness of the first teaching wore off, and it passed into the hands of imitators who were more apt at repeating phrases than at originating ideas, when, in fact, the period of formalism began, men of earnest spirit and fastidious taste were repelled; for nothing is so distasteful to reflecting men as the grotesque endeavour of enervated disciples to conjure with the wand of their masters. Again, the Evangelical body paid but little heed to ecclesiastical politics. The establishment was to them a home in which they could carry on spiritual work ; they had little thought of it as having organic life ; they thought of saving souls, not of regenerating institutions. The generation of men who began to look out upon life in the fourth decade of the century was confronted by problems which arose out of political conditions. The Liberal New movement had culminated in the reform of Pr°b;ems- 410 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [un certain ecclesiastical anomalies by the State. Men began to ask, Had the Church herself no voice in her own affairs ? The Liberal politician had no answer except that of the national utilitarian. The Evangelical churchman had no answer at all, for he had given little thought to such problems. There were many in England who felt perplexed and who looked for guidance, and in Oxford the question excited special interest. Gathered at the University were men who, trained in different homes, were brought under the influence of the traditional atmo sphere of the place. Some of the young minds assembled there came from Evangelical, some from old-fashioned High Church homes ; some were full of the enthusiasm for liberty, others regarded liberty as a phrase which only- meanr^revolution. There were Liberals who were ardent for the reform bill, but hated the irreligious temper of the Government. There were Tories who resented the dis appearance of the privileges of the past, and whose zeal for church rights grew out of their disappointed Toryism. There were also devout souls who had inherited the Non juror spirit, who were hostile to all things modern, and who would fain see the Church organising her work regard less of the State, and in harmony with ancient traditions. Finally, there were those who had been brought up in the strict methods of the Evangelical school, who felt the need of piety, and who in their dread of worldliness shrank even from innocent recreations. Such were some of the classes of mind and temperament who from different parts of England collected at Oxford. The atmosphere which pervaded Oxford was strongly Tory. The traditions of the place were those of Church „ , . and Crown. The Reformer of the day was a Oxford. J name of evil. The Evangelical was a troubler of Israel, equally obnoxious to the Conservativerinterests and the inherited cultivation of the place. The strength of this tats] INFLUENCES AT OXFORD 411 university influence was such that (to give one significant example) it swept away the incipient Jacobinism of Thomas Arnold. The poetry of Wordsworth and the novels of Walter Scott were accepted and approved by the taste of the place. The young undergraduate who had come from a religious home where novels were proscribed, and whose only literature, besides the Bible and Bradley's Sermons, was the verse of Cowper and perhaps of Milton, drank in with uneasy delight the love of romance and antiquity from the pages of Ivdnhoe and Waverley. His college tutor perhaps introduced him to Wordsworth, and he found his surprise at the architecture of Oxford growing into a passionate joy in stately abodes of prayer and study, raised by devotion and consecrated by time. The Church became in his eyes the beautiful ideal of a living mother and mistress, symbolised by these creations in stone, which though venerable with age were yet quick with new and ever-moving life. The hand that would touch things venerable and living was only the rude hand of ignorance and violence. Reform was but a specious name for sacrilege. Things beautiful and old had rights. The Church ought not to be roughly handled in the interests of crude modernism. The ancient mother of so much that was good and fair and saintly in English life ought to be allowed a voice in the disposition of what was inalienably her own. Had any State power or right to suppress bishoprics which were older than the State? Parliament was no longer an assembly of grave and reverent sons of the Church, all sorts and conditions of men were gathered there in obedience to the noisy shouts of the brainless rabble. Feelings such as these were widely diffused in Oxford, and in many country vicarages and manor houses through out the country. Men- waited for a voice to give them utterance.. That voice came from an unexpected quarter, 412 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- and from a man whose nature recoiled from publicity and political strife. John Keble came from a home where quiet piety of an austere and nonjuring type prevailed. His father was a country clergyman, who trained his son after an old-fashioned and godly sort. Character, education, opinions, were all derived from home. The growing lad was sheltered from the rough winds of too much liberty, and taught from childhood a pious reverence towards authority. He does not even seem to have passed through the stage, so common with young men, of strong reaction against the tone of thought in which he had been reared. He had one brief spell of leaning towards ecclecticism, or at least he thought so afterwards; but his mind and character ripened under influences which he accepted, absorbed, and developed, and probably never dreamed of disputing. His heroes in politics were the Stuarts, in religion the Nonjurors. There was no strain of Whiggism or Liberalism in his blood. His mental attitude towards those who would upset anything was one of gentle surprise or melancholy disdain, which might on occasions rise into indignation. He came from a scholarly home, and when he went to Oxford he was the wonder of the place ; this home-bred lad, who won a Corpus scholar ship when he was barely fifteen, took a double first when he was eighteen, and became a Fellow of Oriel at nineteen. These early honours did not upset his balance. The spell of the pious home-training never forsook him. As lad at home, undergraduate, college don, curate, vicar, his days were " bound each to each by natural piety." He attracted to him, both by his attainments and his quiet, unassuming character, the love and admiration of many. He was " the first man in Oxford," a happy "blending of Hooker and George Herbert." He had won the regard and affection of Pusey and of Newman, who were his juniors by eight 1845] JOHN KEBLE 413 or nine years. Keble left Oxford in 1823, drawn to his father's side by filial piety, and by the love of the country quiet and beauty to which he naturally inclined. He had no ambitions : he wished to consecrate all his gifts to the service of God and of His Church. He believed that the Church's Seasons and Collects might be made more helpful to devotional life, and he employed himself in embodying their lessons in verse. He achieved his task with singular felicity and grace of expression. The accuracy of his phrases delighted the most fastidious of critics. He raised religious poetry to a higher level. He showed that it was possible to express the highest devotion in a form which could rejoice the heart of the simple without offending the- most cultivated taste. The Christian Year was published anonymously, but the secret was not long kept. A new charm was added to the fame of his name, and though ten years had passed since he left the University, his influence was still strong, and drew young Oxford men within its range ; and he was recognised as a leader who might be summoned from his retirement should occasion arise. In 1833 Keble felt that the summons and the oppor tunity had come. He was appointed to preach the Assize Sermon at Oxford. This was the opportunity. He had long been uneasy at the action of churohBiii. the Government in Church matters. That reforms of the offices of the Church should be carried out without the consent of the Church seemed to him a violation of ancient rights, and his objection was all the stronger because this had been done by a Govern ment which possessed little religious sympathy. A Bill then before Parliament, appropriating the revenues of ten Irish bishoprics to the purpose of putting an end to the tithes which the Irish were refusing to pay, seemed to Keble an act of national apostasy. Upon National Apostasy, therefore, Keble preached. The day of this 414 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- declaration of opinion was regarded by Newman as "the start of the movement." The sermon was published. Meanwhile the Bill was passed. It was too late to prevent the measure, but it was not too late to remon strate. Accordingly addresses were signed, but the wish of those who were united in sympathy at Oxford was to go further. Some desired to form an association ; others urged the publication of tracts to instruct and arouse public opinion. From the outset there were two wings in the party which was thus drawing together. Some were ardent and daring; some were prudent and more con servative, and before long the ardent section divided again into a more or a less advanced group. Essays were now published, bearing the general title, Tracts for the Times. They were written anonymously; they differed in tone ability, and measure of theTimes°" doctrinal statement, but they were united by the common purpose of emphasising the sanctity of the Church's organisation. They reflected the alarm of those who disliked what was called the in dividualism of Evangelical teaching, the high-handed action of the State, and the general liberalism which was showing itself not only in ecclesiastical politics, but in matters of thought and opinion. To understand the alarm felt in this last direction we must take up the thread of narrative from an earlier point. The spirit of inquiry did not die out, though it in Thought. was °ften forgotten and overlooked in times of great political excitement. Students, how ever, continued to study and to think, and the result was the discovery that many current theories were based on ignorance and mistake. The spirit of research asked for the facts. What was venerable might not be true, but truth herself was always venerable. Germany in this matter was in advance of other European nations, for the indefatigable 1845] LIBERAL THOUGHT 415 perseverance and unwearied patience of her sons had been working quietly, and by degrees the result of their re searches began to penetrate other countries. As at the time of the Reformation investigation had shown that forgery and romance had played their part in the making of books long believed to be genuine and authoritative, so did research, now conducted under freer and more favourable conditions, reveal how much of floating legend had been incorporated into the beginnings of national histories. History must be written, it was felt, on a sounder basis. Criticism must exercise her undoubted right and duty of cross-questioning authors and manuscripts. Re presentative of this fresh and vigorous spirit was Niebuhr's History of Rome, the publication of which aroused the atten tion of certain inquiring and thoughtful spirits in England. In 1825 Julius Hare, then at Trinity College, Cambridge, spoke of it to Arnold, who declared that it opened wide before his eyes the extent of his own ignorance. Those who shared this spirit became in their turn a centre of influence. They never became a party. They may be looked upon as the pioneers of what has been called the Broad Church movement, but which ought never to be called the Broad Church party, for such a party never had and from the nature of the case never can have any existence. It is to this simple but overlooked fact and principle that we may trace both the weakness and strength of this movement. Strong as High and Low Church are strong, the Broad movement could never be, for it was against its nature to crystallise itself, as these did, into a party. Its strength was of another order altogether. They were strong as are streams whose course may be traced now by the green banks which they make greener, now by the wreckage they bear down upon their tempestuous bosoms. It was strong as is the impalpable air, which yields to every stroke, but nevertheless carries 416 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- with it unseen the oxygen which is life, or the poison which is death. The men who introduced Englishmen to the results and to the spirit of German research were a strong and illus trious group. There was Julius Hare, the pas- Group.' 6ra sionately earnest and chivalrous soul, who, with a mass of oppressive learning, illustrated even to the point of obscuration whatever matter he handled. He had a wide knowledge of German literature, and in conjunction with Thirlwall he translated Niebuhr's History of Rome. There was his brother Augustus, who possessed a power of simple and lucid expression, and who in his country parish showed the world that sermons might be clear as well as thoughtful. There was Thomas Arnold, who combined in an unusual degree the spirit of inquiry and the spirit of devoutness — a Liberal who abhorred Liberalism without religiousness, a religious man who could not close his eyes to what seemed to him to be true. It might be said of him — it could be said of very few — that he was a Liberal because he was religious. Associated with these, but possessed of a calmer and perhaps colder nature, was Thirlwall, afterwards Bishop of St. David's. Probably there was no one Churchman of any school of thought gifted with stronger and more acute intellectual power than Thirlwall. He was one of those men who never are associated by public verdict with any one party. His views on certain points were known to be wide, but he was felt to be a man whose views were the simple outcome of his own clear and impartial judgment. He saw straight and he saw clearly, and he followed what he saw. He introduced the results of German biblical scholarship to England by translating Schleiermacher's work on St. Luke. The book interested the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, and when the bishopric of St. David's fell vacant he nominated Thirlwall for the post. 1845] TRACTS FOR THE TIMES 417 The signs of a more active criticism, which were endorsed by Liberals with joy, were looked upon by Conservatives with distrust. This was only natural. Criticism has a double function; it is both constructive and crkidsni0* destructive : it must demolish the false if it would exalt the true. But just as collectors of china feel aggrieved when an expert pronounces some of their favourite antique specimens to be modern imitations, so did strong Conservative natures resent a criticism which undermined their favourite legends. The timid feared that if they surrendered the legend of Romulus and Remus they would be asked to give up more and yet more. They resembled the sagacious child who was being taught his letters, and refused to say A because he foresaw that he would be expected to say B and the rest of the alphabet. Where the Conservative was pious he hot only dreaded the critic's unsparing hand, but he resented the flippant and irreverent spirit which was not unfrequently displayed. Thus while Thirlwall and those like him were welcom ing criticism, Pusey, a shy, nervous, introspective Oxford student, who was studying in Germany in 1825-6, was repelled by the lack of religious tone and feeling which he found at Berlin and Heidelberg. Pusey brought back from abroad much knowledge, and more fear of German criticism and German methods. Largely through his in fluence the dislike and dread of liberalism in criticism and in opinion were strengthened among the men of the Oxford movement. The crusade initiated by the Tracts for the Times was against liberalism in thought and in politics. In their view liberalism in ecclesiastical politics meant Erastianism, liberalism in thought meant rationalism. The only safe guard against these, or against that right of individual judgment which was in favour among the Evangelical thinkers, was to be found in authority, in the authority 2 E 418 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- of the Church, which might be an antidote to the theories of irreligious statesmen and rationalising thinkers. The conception of the Church as "a substantive body or corporation" was new to some young Oxford men, and one who later was among the vehement opponents of the Tractarian school, was the man who made this con ception of the Church clear to Newman, and taught him to dislike Erastian views of Church polity. Whately, then thirty-five years of age, took Newman by the hand, taught him to think, and to think for himself, and opened his eyes to new conceptions of the Church and the State. Ten years later, when public affairs had provoked controversial activity, Pusey, still filled with dread of German rationalism, and Newman, now filled with ideals of the Church and her authority, were ready to take a prominent part in the movement, and pressed for an active policy. Pusey had been brought up in a strict Church household, where everything went by rule. His mother read her Bible with her watch beside her. All emotion was repressed. Action was preferred to feeling. Charity was methodical. The home was inflexibly Tory and High Church. The discipline there and at school was strict, and the lad brought up in these surroundings had no healthy love of athletics, but was shy and morbid in his feelings. He loved his grief more than any hollow joy. He had a touch of Byronic fever for a time, but from all doubt and unbelief he shrank. His time at Oxford, and afterwards in Germany, served to deepen his dread of studies which might lead to unbelief. For a time he was drawn to the Whigs, but this attraction soon vanished. He had no sympathy with the modern spirit, and he devoted himself to study, poring over the learning of the past. His extensive learning, his rigorous devotion, and his praiseworthy dislike of luxuriousness of living, increased his influence. When the Tracts for the Times began r845] NEWMAN 419 Pusey became, as we have seen, a contributor, and he alone added his initials to his contributions. In this way the authorship of some of the Tracts became known, and perhaps this circumstance led people to speak of the movement as Puseyite. But it may have been due to that quick insight which the multitude seems to possess which led them to see in Pusey, rather than in Newman, the leading character of the movement. Newman has been called its moving power, as certainly he was the most attractive and perplexing among the characters then brought on the stage. Born and brought up in an Evangelical home, dis trusted at first by the High Churchmen who disliked everything Evangelical, led by Whately to use his strangely subtle and inquisitive intellect for himself, he became after a time the most fascinating,, figure in Oxford. When he preached at St. Mary's he laid a spell upon his hearers. No one wielded a greater power in the University. Men differed from him or agreed with him, but they were one in their acknowledgment of the power with which he swayed them. His intellect, nimble and subtle, was quick to seize striking and suggestive aspects of Bible texts, scenes, and characters. It was his fortune to win from countless undergraduates a kind of generous youthful worship. It was his misfortune to expose himself by the course which he pursued to constant suspicion. This was partly due to his brilliancy, for English men have an ineradicable distrust of brilliant men, few of whom have ever succeeded in public life, but partly also to an intellectual subtlety and partly again to a coerced sincerity, which led him to be loyal to the language of professional duty in spite of growing convictions. Other men of more cautious spirit were associated with the movement, but Keble, Newman, and Pusey were its triumvirate; each contributed something which the others could not have given. Keble commanded it by his coura- 420 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [1833- geous lead, and still more by his character, and by the devotional spirit of the Christian Year. Pusey contributed the weight of his learning, enforced by the strictness of his life. Newman contributed his fascinating sermons, adding to them the force of a piquant personality, and of a genius at once alluring and illusive. Keble was its singer, Pusey its theologian, Newman its preacher. The movement was commenced in all seriousness, but there was a reckless element in it which seemed to court opposition. The tracts changed their tone. Romanising * . ,,.... Tendencies. The writers were personally free in their utter ances ; no wise censorship or supervision was exercised ; and yet from a sort of chivalry of feeling each man was ready to defend a comrade who had written heed lessly. There was a straining of personal conviction for the sake of esprit de corps. The tracts continued till Tract No. XC. was reached. Then there came a time of public consternation and excitement. Tract XC. endeavoured to show that the decrees of the Council of Trent did not so entirely contradict the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England as to be untenable by a loyal member of the Church of England. In other words, it was argued that a sense might be given to the Thirty-nine Articles, which would so far soften the apparent antagonism that the Churches of England and of Rome might be brought more closely together. English people had not lost their dread of Rome or their dislike of Roman teaching, and soon the storm of public feeling was heard. Curiously enough Newman, who delighted in the tempest of popular opposi tion, was strangely disconcerted when the bishops almost unanimously condemned the position taken up in Tract XC. The tract revealed the divisions of those who had hitherto acted in concert. The more reckless, whose faces were already set Romewards, grew more defiant in tone. They interpreted Tract XC. in the same way as its most violent 1845] ROMEWARD PARTY 421 opponents interpreted it. It was to be read, so said its extreme friends and its most bitter enemies, as an accept ance of Roman doctrine. It was, of course, they said, only possible to make the Thirty-nine Articles consistent with this theory by giving them a non-natural interpretation. The phrase caught hold of public imagination : it seemed exactly to describe the principle which had been advocated. The Oxford school, it was said, could only be members of the Church of England by giving to the Articles which they had signed a non-natural interpretation. It was further argued that non -natural interpretations were dishonest interpretations. The more moderate and cautious friends of the movement were alarmed. They had begun in all sincerity, and they were animated all through by loyalty to the Church they loved ; but they now found them selves in partnership with men who meant something quite different, men who evidently admired the Church of Rome and only tolerated the Church of England. This was an attitude entirely opposed to that of the Caroline fathers of the Anglo -Catholic school. These grave and learned men, who had held firmly to historical Catholicity, had known and declared that Roman teaching was both unscriptural and uncatholic. They held by the faith of Bishop Ken, who believed in the pure Christian faith as it was before all Roman and Puritan innovations. These men began to disavow the tendencies which they saw among a section of their friends. They were not prepared to give approval to all that had been written. It became necessary to distinguish between the two parties in the camp. A new school had arisen, which was dissatisfied with the principles of the Church, reckless of her interests, hostile to the reformers, and possessed of a spirit of needless servility to and adulation of Rome. Men of moderate spirit found themselves outpaced by the advanced and advancing members of the party, who soon discovered in everything 422 THE OXFORD MOVEMENT [,833- that happened a reason for deserting the Church that they had been criticising for so long. Secessions to the Church of Rome began and increased in number; but the secession of Newman after three or four years of painful and perplexed hesitation Secessions. , , ~, . , , _, , , moved the Church most deeply. The subtlety of his mind showed him everywhere reasons for doubt. There seemed to be no way of escaping the ineradicable scepticism of his nature save in a surrender to authority. He thought that he was taking refuge from a Church, where his position was doubtful, in a Church where he would feel safe, but he was only taking refuge from him self in the bosom of a Church which received him but never trusted him, and which twenty-five years later put an almost intolerable strain upon his allegiance. The secessions, both because of their number and of the distinction of those who went over, caused general alarm. But the testing time had come. All who had joined in the movement were of necessity put to great searchings of heart. The shock cooled much unhealthy ardour. Men reviewed their position. Many recoiled from the abyss which seemed to open before them. On the whole, after the first sense of fear had passed, the secessions had a steadying influence on men's minds. In the movement had been good and evil tendencies. It was well to fall back on historical foundations, and to realise the organic life and function of the Church; but it was only by ignoring history that men could see in Rome a catholicity purer than that of the Church of England — it was only by forsaking the guidance of those who had been the great lights of the Church in her most brilliant period, that men could see in Rome a model and standard for their churches to follow. Those who were dissatisfied with the Church of England as she had come forth after the trial of centuries, scriptural, historic, reformed, and catholic, left her shelter. 1845] THE SECESSIONS 423 Others who had gone near to the edge of the chasm looked back and began to understand her better. A few no doubt looked wistfully after their brethren on the other side, wondering how they fared ; but many, like good Joshua Watson, watched the movement, and waited on with hope and confidence through these days of alarm and pain, believing "that whatever was monstrous and ex travagant would for that very reason die a natural death ; and the good which the most reasonable even of its opponents did not deny would be permanent." CHAPTER XXXV. THE SOCIAL PHILANTHROPY 1829-1850 When the century was about a generation old, and the excitement of the great war was fast becoming a memory, men had leisure for other matters, Reformers ar>d the state of things at home claimed their and their interest. Moreover, two great spirits had entered into the national life — the spirit of freedom and the spirit of humanity. The two great party names Whig and Tory still remained, but they had some what changed their original meaning. The Tory was no longer a Jacobite or Stuart sympathiser, at the most he cherished a picturesque sentiment for that fallen cause ; he was now the man who stood for Church and Crown, who hated innovation and republicanism, and who re garded Liberal ideas as only a specious pretext for revolu tion and anarchy. Small prejudices allied themselves with the Toryism of the day. It was an unseemly modernism to forego the use of a sedan chair in attending Court. The proposal to light a public square with gas was suspected as a Jacobin suggestion. The Whig, on the contrary, sympathised with Liberal movements and Liberal opinions. Tracing his pedigree from the Revolution, he could not declare that all political changes were bad. He gloried in William of Orange and in civil and religious liberty. He spoke cautiously about the French Revolu tion. It had disappointed him, but the watchwords of 424 1829-50] REFORM BILL 425 Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity still stirred his heart. Public opinion, which had recoiled from the extravagances of France, was now beginning to recover from the reaction. Liberty was not in itself bad, even though men had committed crimes in its name. Equality was not in itself bad, if only it respected the Ten Commandments. It did not mean that all men should possess equal things, but that all unfair privileges should cease. The reforming statesmen of the day were called to a difficult task. Against them there was a great and solid mass of society, consisting of those who were The great leaders of fashion and naturally conservative of Relief and privilege, who regarded every prospect of reform e orm ' s' as a dangerous concession to revolutionary principles. The difficulties of reforming statesmen were, a little later, further increased by the dislike which the King, William IV., en tertained towards the Whigs. The vigour of this dislike was continued long : it was shown in an amazing way when in 1836 Bishop Longley did homage on his appointment to the newly-formed see of Ripon. The Bishop had hardly risen from his knees at the close of the ceremony when the King broke out : " Bishop of Ripon, I charge you as you shall answer before Almighty God that you never by word or deed give encouragement to those d d Whigs who would upset the Church of England." Against prejudice and against fears more fierce than prejudice the Reformers had to struggle. That they continued the struggle with unfaltering devotion entitles them to the gratitude of Englishmen to-day. Happily they had allies. The philan thropic spirit, which sprang into fresh power through the efforts of the Evangelical leaders, was slowly spreading through the country. The heroic friends of the slave were continuing their efforts. An election in County Clare (1828) startled those who had supinely resisted the Roman Catholic claims. An Irishman of commanding influence, 426 THE SOCIAL PHILANTHROPY [l8a9_ of unrivalled oratorical power, vigorous, humorous, un scrupulous, but in deadly earnest, headed the poll, while the candidate supported by the strongest Tory and social influence was rejected. Men began to awake to the fact that those who would avoid revolution should welcome reform. The story of the disastrous fall of ministers at this time must be read elsewhere. It is enough for us to note the forward steps of the reforms in the direction of political equality. Old tests and restrictions began to aPPear unfair and objectionable in the judgment Corpora- of men who had grown accustomed to talk of hon and liberty, and to believe in the rights of man. They realised that every man who is ready to share in the life of the State was entitled, whatever his religious belief might be, to some share in making those laws which affect that life. Accordingly, all kinds of disabilities became unpopular, and were attacked one by one. The Tests and Corporation Acts were repealed in 1828, and office and Government were opened to Noncon formists. But the Roman Catholics still suffered under disabilities. The time had come when even this relic of a past policy was to vanish. The dread of Rome, however, Catholic had not left Englishmen, and a long and bitter Emancipation, conflict took place before the Bill for Roman Catholic Emancipation "became law. We may be disposed to censure the narrowness of those who opposed this great act of emancipation ; but it is only fair to remember that Romanists differed from other Non conformists in one important particular. Other religious denominations were wholly English — they drew their re sources, their convictions, and their teaching authority from people who lived in England — but the Roman Catholics belonged to a Church which yielded a very special position of authority to a foreigner who was not ROMAN CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION 427 only an ecclesiastical ruler, but who claimed a place among European sovereigns. The Pope demanded from his followers an allegiance which at times made patriot ism difficult, and which might expose the Romanist to the hard choice between civil and ecclesiastical loyalty. Only as recently as 1824, Pope Leo XII. had intrigued against constitutional freedom in France. Moreover, papal power was supported now by the strenuous and not over-scrupulous propagandism of the Jesuit order, which, abolished "for ever" by Clement XIV. in 1773, had been re-established by Pius VII. in 1814. The past history of England had not made Englishmen tolerant of Jesuit principles or very charitable in their judgment of the way in which the Pope might use his power. He had released the Romanists of Elizabeth's day from their allegiance. He might do so again. These arguments were met by saying that the days of Elizabeth were not likely to come again, which was true, and that the Pope claimed no such power, which was false. But Englishmen were not much moved by the arguments on either side. They weighed the question on its own merits, apart from theological animus. They knew very well that the Pope did claim to dispense men from the bonds of loyalty; they knew also that the probability that he would ever do so was more remote than Protestant zeal imagined; but they did not heed these things ; they resolved to trust their Roman Catholic fellow-subjects, and to do this thing because it was right. It appeared to them a matter of political justice, and political justice was of more moment than controversial opinions and fears. One man in England — Thomas Arnold — declared that political justice was a religious duty, and that on religious grounds emancipation ought to be granted. His views were heard but hardly understood. To most Churchmen and Nonconformists religious opinions 428 THE SOCIAL PHILANTHROPY re constituted the chief part of religion. Religious principles and their application to great questions were even at that time little understood. It seemed to the bulk of so-called religious people a betrayal of faith to declare that it might be the most religious act in the world to do justice to those whose religious opinions differed from their own. The mere statement of this principle, which is the principle of Christ in opposition to the principle of Jesuitism, was enough to make the religious public look coldly on Dr. Arnold ; but they lived to know him better, though he did not live long enough to enjoy the reversal of popular judgment. Parliament, in spite of strong opposition, gave expression to Liberal views, and in 1829 the Roman Catholic Relief Bill was passed. The cause of the people, who now more than any other class were contributing to the growing wealth and pros perity of the country, was recognised when the Reform Bill of 1832 became law, and the representation of sterile and decaying towns was transferred to the great cities which were growing in power and population. The Slave Trade was abolished in 1833. The value of these great movements is to be found in their underlying principles. There are some who sneer at the Whigs of those days, and proclaim them to be men destitute alike of religious feeling and of poetry of life. It is true that they were practical men ; it is true that some of them were worshippers of a chilling utilitarian philosophy ; but as long as noble ideals bring poetry into life, and Christ's golden rule remains an inspiration to men, we must recognise in them men who appreciated the poetry of great ideas and the religion of noble duties. They were also political benefactors to England. Their recognition of the cause of the people saved the country from revolution. Political excitement on the Continent is usually accompanied by some popular 1850] CONDITION OF THE POOR 429 feeling here ; but the danger of tumult has generally been anticipated by wise reforms and still more by the presence of the spirit which is ready to understand and redress grievances. The rapid dealing with such between 1829 and 1833 probably ensured social safety in England while France was shaken by another revolution. These dates mark the beginning of the period when statesmen learned the wisdom of trusting the people. Popular principles were then accepted which have multiplied the interests and strengthened the patriotism of the citizen. The cause of the people once acknowledged, the care of the people could not long remain forgotten. We can hardly realise the misery and destitution of the poor of our country some sixty or seventy years ago. Labour was badly paid, and food was dear. The conditions of the working people were pitiable. Long hours of toil were their portion, and early in life the monotony of toil began. Before they could taste the joy ^the'poor of living, which should be a natural heritage of all, children were forced to the loom and the workshop. No sunlight visited their childhood to give them something good to look back upon from the grey-toned life of servi tude. Mill-owners were eager to employ the waifs from workhouses whom Poor Law Guardians were glad to get rid of, and whose rights there was no one to defend. The system on which the Poor Law was administered was, moreover, faulty and demoralising. Relief was given with out much discrimination and often to those who were able to earn their own living and who were working for it at inadequate wages. Employers preferred to engage those who were in receipt of parish relief, because they were able to work for lower pay. Thus in many cases the public were paying that employers might get cheap labour. It was not surprising that poor rates were high ; they had, in fact, nearly doubled between 1801 and 1820. But, though 430 THE SOCIAL PHILANTHROPY [,829- rates were high, the poor were in sorry state. What was called the Truck system added to the hardships of the poor. This was a system by which the employer of labour compelled his workpeople to take out part of their wages by purchasing goods at shops which he opened. He thus made a profit not only out of the working power, but out of the spending power of his workpeople. The poor in large towns, and in the country also, were miserably housed. Many lived in underground cellars, which were dark and unhealthy. In the state of the poor there was abundant scope for the energy of kind and humane hearts. The dawn of a new reign ushered in a period of kindlier public sentiment. All eyes turned with a tender, sympa- Accessionof thetic> and hopeful look to the young girl, Queen only eighteen years old, who now sat upon the Victoria, throne. The times were full of trouble. There 1837. was news of revolt in Canada, difficulties in China and Central Asia, and flying rumours of grave complications elsewhere. At home the condition of the poor caused murmurs of discontent. But the youth and personal popularity of the Queen gave strength to the Government, and all things are possible to men who can hope and feel ; and hopeful and feeling hearts were to be found. A spirit ready to help and eager to redress wrong began to spread throughout the nation. This was stimulated by enthusiasts in the people's cause who carne from among those who had learned something of the love of God. Chief, in one sense, among these was Lord Ashley, afterwards Lord Shaftesbury. He Shaftesbury belonged to the Evangelical school of thought, and he was a prominent figure in the great religious meetings for which Exeter Hall became famous. Into the cause of the poor he flung himself with noble and self-forgetting enthusiasm. He set his heart upon reducing the long hours of labour, and it was mainly i8so] LORD SHAFTESBURY 431 through his exertions that the Ten Hours Bill became law. Not content with one form of philanthropy, Lord Shaftes bury made every class his care. He was the friend of the artisan and the costermonger, of the chimney-sweep and the street Arab. The great avenue which now connects St. Giles with those palaces of wealth and rank, the clubs of the West End, bears his name, and along its course may be seen tokens and monuments of the great earl's tireless and varied philanthropy. There were many of the Evangelical clergy who were ready to follow Lord Shaftesbury's lead, and all over the country there sprang up refuges and schools, which were open to the friendless and the poor. But the strongest interest in the well-being of the work- clergy ing classes came from the Liberal clergy. It was the work and devotion of men like Thomas Arnold, Frederick Denison Maurice, and Charles Kingsley which called public attention to the unfair operation of trade laws and conditions. There are two methods in which a philan thropic spirit may act. It may endeavour to relieve, or it may endeavour to prevent distress. Impulsive charity is often content with the former ; reflective charity seeks to accomplish the latter. This is perhaps the distinguishing feature of the social movement, a movement which we must keep separate in our minds from the socialistic movement. The social movement, understood in its best sense, is love trying to remove the causes of sin and suffering. Some are so enamoured of it that they would forbid the Christian activity which would relieve distress, saying that to do so is beginning at the wrong end. But in this world we must — till we learn more and understand better the laws of social life — do both. Prevent where we can, help where we cannot prevent, seems to be the best maxim for charity when working in the twilight. Naturally those who were intent upon improving social 432 THE SOCIAL PHILANTHROPY [1829-50 conditions were suspected by old-fashioned and unre flecting people. We must remember that Liberalism was feared, and that the effects of revolutionary Kingsley movements still kept hold of people's imagina tions. When, therefore, a man like Charles Kingsley wrote with vigorous and scathing force of the hard lot of the poor, he was denounced as a socialist, an anarchist, or Chartist. But the band of Liberal clergy saw Christ before them, and remembering how He had gone about doing good, caring for the poor and lightening their burdens, they felt that there was, perhaps, more true Christi anity in endeavouring to ameliorate the lot of those whose privations drove them into misery, and whose conditions fostered vice, than in arguing about predestination or dis puting theories of Church government. So, convinced that they saw a real light of heaven leading them forward, they continued their labours through good report and evil, and some of them lived to see the day of obloquy pass away, and to witness the party from which the bitterest opposition came beginning to adopt their principles and to extend their method. The University settlements of which we hear so much, Toynbee Hall, the Oxford House, the Cambridge Mission, the Eton Mission, are all products of the same spirit which made Maurice and Kingsley, Tom Hughes and Mr. Ludlow heroes half a century ago. The whole social feeling has been revolutionised since their day, and that is now a fashion which then was a martyrdom. TOMB OF EDWARD THE CONFESSOR, WESTMINSTER ABBEY. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 432. CHAPTER XXXVI. FROM THE GORHAM CASE TO THE VATICAN COUNCIL A.D. 1847-I87O The Oxford movement was making itself felt when in 1837 the Queen came to the throne. The earlier years of the reign were marked by great activity in Church work and considerable controversial disturbance. The Tracts for the Times were calculated to agitate many minds, and the tone of some of the writers roused the alarm of the people, for it was believed that not only a strong Rome- ward movement had begun, but that there was a sort of conspiracy on foot to bring it about. Unfortunately certain periodicals and newspapers aggravated the diffi culties by their exasperating treatment of controversial questions. Two matters added to the general excitement. In the year 1847 Dr. Hampden was Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford. His appointment to this post had Hampden been vehemently opposed, as he was suspected excitement, of Liberal and even more than Liberal sym- l847" pathies. When, therefore, it was announced that he had been nominated to the bishopric of Hereford there was great excitement in ecclesiastical circles, and vigorous protests were made from many quarters. This, however, was not the only cause of excitement. The West of England was the scene of a strange conflict. 2 F 433 434 THE GORHAM CASE [,847- The see of Exeter was then presided over by Dr. Phill- potts, a man of brilliant ability, vigorous alike in mind and tongue, a strong High Churchman, and an CasInL? ardent Tory. In the spring Mr. Gorham, a supporter of Evangelical views, and at that time vicar of St. Just, a parish then in the diocese of Exeter, was nominated by the Lord Chancellor to the benefice of Brampford Speke in the same diocese. The Bishop suspected Mr. Gorham's orthodoxy, especially on the subject of Baptism, and he claimed, according to his right, to take the unusual course of examining Mr. Gorham before admitting him to the benefice. Mr. Gorham had no option but to submit, though he was then a man sixty years old. He was a distinguished scholar: he had been third wrangler and second Smith's prizeman, a Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and so eminent in natural science that he received considerable support when he contested the Woodwardian Professorship with Adam Sedgwick. The examination, however, which he now had to undergo was not respecting his attainments, but respecting his orthodoxy. Mr. Gorham carefully prepared himself for the ordeal, but the Bishop was not satisfied, and refused to institute him to the benefice. The point at issue concerned the significance of the word " Re generate " in the baptismal service. Mr. Gorham held the view that only when a man was converted, that is, had become personally and spiritually conscious of his relation to God, and desirous in all loyalty to live according to that relationship, could he be said to be "born again" or be truly regenerate. The position of the Bishop was that the Prayer Book in the service declared that the child was regenerate in Baptism, and that, therefore, Mr. Gorham did not believe in the Prayer Book teaching on Baptismal Regeneration. The religious world was flooded with tracts, The Evangelical party, who were 1870] GORHAM DECISION 435 believed to hold the same opinions as Mr. Gorham, were challenged to make clear their position and justify their loyalty to the Prayer Book. On both sides the war of words went on and wrangled round the word "regenerate," which the Evangelical clergy were now accused, and in some cases justly, of taking in a non-natural sense. The case was taken to the Privy Council. The Privy Council held that Mr. Gorham's words did not necessarily contradict the teaching of the Prayer Book. Pri councU It was no part, we must remember, of the Decision, duty of the Privy Council Judges to say either l8s°' what the doctrine of the Prayer Book was or what it ought to be. All that it had to decide was whether certain statements of Mr. Gorham were inconsistent with certain statements in the Prayer Book. Mr. Gorham, as a man on trial, was to be allowed the benefit of any doubt. The Judges were satisfied that Mr. Gorham had used language which might be interpreted in a sense not contradictory to the Prayer Book. But if the Judges were satisfied, neither the Bishop nor the bulk of the High Church clergy were satisfied. Mr. Gorham took pos session of his parish, but the tumult only very gradually calmed down. The decision of the Judges was, apart from the par ticular doctrine involved, one of the utmost importance. It showed a strong reluctance on the part of _ . . . f the highest court to pronounce a judgment Toleration which might narrow the Church of England. involved- No doubt the principle of giving to the accused the benefit of the doubt operated, as it very fitly ought to have done, on the minds of the Judges; but the application of this principle in the case of Mr. Gorham was to be followed by its application in the case of Broad and High Church clergy men later. Thus it happened that many who did not agree with Mr. Gorham's views rejoiced in the result of the trial. 436 THE GORHAM CASE [,847- They saw that if the Church of England was to reflect fairly and freely the fullest truth it must be the home of more than one school of thought. The decision was fortunate in another way. The dust of controversy blinded men's eyes at the time. The bulk of Time the tne Evangelical clergy were accused of teaching Friend of what Mr. Gorham taught. As a fact, there were but few of them who sympathised entirely with his views. The Evangelical clergy were as earnest as Mr. Gorham on the necessity or importance of conversion, but they did not accept him as an exponent of their views on Baptism. On the other hand, it was probably the case that the High Church clergy of that time disliked the Low Church teaching on conversion as earnestly as they clung to their own views on Baptism. The un fortunate fact in the whole discussion was that no one attempted to define the word in dispute. Each side affixed its own sense on Regeneration, and consequently the bulk of the tracts were a series of hopeless misunder standings. Years have brought about a better understand ing. The question to-day hardly divides any schools in the Church. It is realised that the occurrence of a fact and our consciousness of it are not necessarily contemporaneous. The Highest Churchmen understand what conversion means, and preach its importance with mission-like zeal. The Lowest Churchmen now recognise the beauty of the word, which claims every child as in deed and in truth the redeemed child of the Eternal Father of all. It was well, therefore, that a judgment was given which left to time and good sense, and the growth of clearer, because calmer, thoughts, the recognition of the simple principle that two doors on opposite sides of a building may give admission to the same house. If the Gorham case is to be regarded as an attempt to turn Low Church men out of the Church of England it failed, and the 1870] CONVOCATION REVIVED 437 bulk of reasonable and Christian men are glad that it failed. The Convocation of the Church of England had been silent more than a hundred years. Its meetings had been mere formalities. Addresses to the Crown were moved, and then an adjournment took place, convocation Church affairs were not discussed, and no busi ness was transacted. "A few clergymen, chosen they knew not how, met two or three bishops, they knew not where, and presented an address to the Crown, for what purpose they could not tell." In 1826 an attempt to proceed further and ask permission to transact business was made, but in an ineffective fashion. In 1847 there were signs of a stronger feeling, which three years later developed into the formation of a Society for the Revival of Convocation. In 1851 the subject was debated in the House of Lords, when Bishop Wilberforce, then Bishop of Oxford, the eloquent son of the eloquent friend of the slave, made a brilliant defence of the rights of the Church to meet and > discuss her affairs. After much hesitation and . . , _ , _. . Opposition. some opposition the Canterbury Convocation met, making a magnificent display of scarlet and lawn in the aisles of St. Paul's Cathedral. It became clear that there was no legal difficulty in the way of the Houses meeting for discussion, though they could not make or promulgate canons or laws without the consent of the Crown. The opponents of the revival of Convocation feared that its powers would be guided mainly by men who sym pathised with the extreme wing of the Tractarian, or Puseyite party. They feared a Romanising Pa . tendency. Circumstances had made the dread Aggression, of Rome very keen at this time. The extreme l8s°' tone of the later Tracts- for the Times had created much suspicion, and a strangely bold action of the Pope had 438 PROTEST OF CONVOCATION [1847- roused a strong feeling of indignation throughout the country. The people of England, moved by a sense of justice, had in 1829 relieved Roman Catholics from the political disabilities under which they suffered. It seemed to many to be an unworthy return for this generosity when, little more than twenty years later, the Pope, by a Bull issued in 1856, proceeded to map out England into dioceses, and to appoint Bishops all over the country, pretending to give them territorial jurisdiction and author ity. This action seemed to many an invasion of the rights of the Crown : it bore the impress of the ancient arrogance of the Papal See. The excitement was immense. The Prime Minister, Lord John Russell, declared the Pope's action to be " insolent and insidious." Mr. Gladstone, then one of the most prominent among the younger statesmen, would not say that there had been a deliberate intention to insult, yet thought it could be shown that expressions had been " used with a view to sting." An Act of Parlia ment was passed which declared the titles bestowed on the new Roman Catholic Prelates to be void. It thus happened that anti-Roman fears and suspicions were widespread when the proposal for the Revival of Convocation began to take serious shape. It Convocation musi have been disconcerting to some of the alarmists, therefore, to find that one of the earliest declarations made by the revived Convocation was strongly Protestant. The address passed by Convocation contained clauses "solemnly protesting in the face of Christendom " against an act of aggression which " denied the existence of that Branch of the Catholic Church" "long established in this land," and expressed the value of the supremacy of the Crown "as it was maintained in ancient times against the usurpation of the See of Rome, and recovered and reasserted at the time of the Reformation." r87o] THE REVISED VERSION 4& The restoration of the Convocation of Canterbury was followed by that of York, and since that time the Houses of Convocation have met and freely discussed Revised Church affairs, and though nothing very start- Version of ling in the way of changes has been accom- Blble' l87°' plished a good deal of quiet and useful work has been done. The Table of Lessons Has been revised; services for special occasions have been drawn up by committees; Bills touching national and ecclesiastical matters have been discussed, and through discussion clearer views have been promoted. More and more it has been felt that the laity should have some place and voice in the deliberations of the Church. Experiments in this direction have been made, and Houses of Laymen, unrecognised by law, now meet at York and London. The greatest work, however, which we owe to the revived Convocation, has been the Revised Version of the Bible. Convocation did not itself undertake the work, but appointed for the purpose a committee, which was free to invite the co-operation of scholars and experts belonging to other lands and churches. This work was commenced in 1870, and the Revised Version of the New Testament was issued in 1881 and the Revised Version of the Old Testament in 1884. Of the general value of the Revision it is, in one point of view, hard to speak too highly. It is the result of a more minute examination of ancient versions, and of more exact scholarship than could be obtained in the beginning of the seventeenth century. If it be said that the Revised Version lacks the rhythm and swing of the Authorised Version one can only plead that scholarly exactness must be prepared to lose melody in order to secure accuracy. If it be thought that the people will not willingly surrender the musical eloquence and the familiar phrasing of the Old Version, one can only say that the Revised Version can form, as it does, one of the best and most easily available 440 CRIMEAN WAR [1847- commentaries for those who wish to understand what they read. National attention was diverted from Church matters, almost immediately after the revival of Convocation, by the outbreak of the Crimean War. In 1851 all nations had been invited to the Great Industrial Exhibition in London. The Prince Consort, whose sagacity and " sublime repres sion of himself " were not fully appreciated, had taken the warmest interest in the exhibition. He had noble dreams of a brotherly rivalry of productive industry among nations which might supersede the rivalry of war. The Great Exhibition seemed to many the visible embodiment, or at least a glad omen, of better things. But three years later the long peace, which had lasted since Waterloo (1815), was broken. England and France now fought side by side against Russia. The war brought glory to the soldier, little credit to his commanders, and disgrace to the War Office, whose officials seemed to have forgotten everything they ought to have remembered. But when officialism failed, individual energy and enthusiasm .supplied its lack of forethought. A conspicuous splendour gathered round the heroic devotion of one woman, Florence Nightingale, who by personal service and inspiring example brought nursing skill and tender sympathy to the sick and wounded. Scarcely had the Crimean War ended when the empire was confronted by an almost measureless danger. The Indian Mutiny and the hideous massacres which accompanied it sent a thrill of horror and indignation through the nation. Never was danger so bravely and nobly met. Then Englishmen, happily severed from the surveillance of blun dering officialism, acted on their own responsibility, and showed the qualities of a governing race. The crisis brought heroes and leaders to the front. Havelock, Outram, Lawrence, Nicholson are names of pride to Englishman still. These brave men made the task of 1870] INDIAN MUTINY 441 subjugation, entrusted to the most gallant and most ill- treated of Crimean generals, Sir Colin Campbell, much easier than it might have been. Slowly but surely the tide of revolt was rolled back, and England re-established more firmly than before her hold upon her Indian empire. Thus in national effort and danger the century advanced towards the close of its sixth decade. It will be well at this point to take notice of the develop ments of dogma which took place in Rome during the period we are considering. We must, however, go back a little in point of time, and commence with the year 1848, which was a year of revolutions. The democratic and national tendencies, which had been growing for fifty years in Europe, found expression in revolu tion and heroic efforts for freedom. France, Revoluti°ns 'of 1848. as usual, led the way, and accomplished its third revolution by getting rid of Louis Philippe and establishing a Republic under the presidency of Louis Napoleon, who united to the prestige of his name an unex pected capacity for success. Every European country felt the fear, if not the blows, of revolution. In England the Chartist leaders dreamed of playing in London the same game which Paris had witnessed; but the sagacity of the Duke of Wellington, and the patriotism of order-loving citizens, were ready to avert the disaster which seemed imminent, while the threats of violence alienated the best and strongest representatives of the Chartist cause. While other countries were the scenes of bloody revolutions England experienced only ineffec- immunity tive conspiracies and exaggerated panic. The reason of England's immunity from scenes of violence was simple. Some of the causes of popular discontent had been removed by Free Trade and the repeal of the Corn LaWs. In England, moreover, opinion was free, and it was recognised by the bulk of thinking people that in a free 442 CURRENTS OF OPINION [1847- country public opinion is the final court of appeal; and, therefore, not to arms, but to the enlightened opinion of their fellow-countrymen the advocate of every good cause felt safe in appealing. In other lands, where freedom had no such scope, the sword took the place of the public meeting and the Press. Italy was perhaps the worst governed of European countries. It was split up into petty sovereignties and dukedoms, where the rule was tyrannous and bigoted, and force was the only weapon employed. Hence the government of force was Papal states confr°nted by force. The Pope ruled in his Italian realm, not as a Christian Bishop only, but as a temporal sovereign ; and as a temporal sovereign he was exposed to the danger of revolutionary movements. The position of affairs on the Continent was, however, one which gave the Pope fresh opportunities of extended influence. Two currents of political opinion were flowing : the current of Liberalism, which sought political and religious emancipation, and the current of Conservatism, Opinion S ° which was ready to check revolution. In most continental countries the dread of revolution not only provoked reaction and gave strength to Conserva tive tendencies, but also drew together by the sympathy of a common fear the governments of Europe. All were anxious to maintain their authority, and successful revolu tion anywhere was a danger to all. The Pope of Rome, therefore, as a temporal sovereign, found himself supported by the sympathy of other governments when the patriotic Italian party rose to emancipate Rome. But there was one peculiarity about the position of the Vatican among the governments of the time — the Vatican ruled politically at home : it ruled ecclesiastically everywhere else. The papal advisers were not slow to see the advantage which this double position afforded. It enabled them t87o] LIBERAL CATHOLICISM 443 to utilise both currents in the interests of the Roman Church. The Conservative power was used to secure the temporal dominion against the Liberal move ment, and the Liberal movement was used to H°wus?dby the Vatican. secure advantages elsewhere. Accordingly we find that in 1848, and the few years which followed, the Roman Pontiff was not only protected in the Papal States, but gained independent power and an influence freed from State supervision in Prussia and Austria. Acting on the same policy, what was called the Papal Aggression (which we have already noticed, p. 437) was commenced in England. But while using the Liberal movement to increase its own power the spirit of the Liberal movement was hated at Rome, and there, perhaps more than else where, the reaction was most strongly shown, Catholicism and the Ultramontane party were able to secure a series of theological triumphs. The Romantic and Liberal movements of the beginning of the century were welcomed by certain ardent and magnanimous spirits in the Roman Communion. To these it seemed that the Romantic spirit, by allying itself with the spirit of intelli gent Liberalism, would be strong enough to banish the spirits of infidelity and revolution. To the eye of many a devout soul Liberal ideas were good, but they could not be accepted if offered by the hands of atheism. Romanti cism went back to nature and to the ages of chivalry, and showed that there was something more worthy of worship for men than the goddess of reason. Men might be free and yet religious. A new spirit awoke both in Protestant and Roman Catholic countries. In the latter, men hoped much from a movement which seemed capable of. preserving all that was most venerable in Catholicism while seizing all that was best in Liberalism. The Liberal Catholicism, as it was called, awakened golden 444 ULTRAMONTANE INFLUENCES [1847- dreams in many a noble breast. Even Protestants caught the infection of enthusiasm for the vision of a great Church, Catholic and Liberal, which had dazzled so many. Some leading minds in Germany joined the Roman Church with the hope of promoting the realisation of this stupendous dream. Frederick von Schlegel and Werner may stand as, representatives of those who did so. But this Liberal movement was distrusted by the staunchest spirits at Rome. They felt suspicious of a Disliked by movement which had no sincere love for pro- uitra- cessions and pilgrimages, and for the worship mon anes. Q|- rej jcs . vy]-,;^ looked with favour on the con trolling power in the Church of great councils, and which recognised the Christian value of devout Protestantism ; above all, perhaps it could hold little truce with men who were known to distrust Jesuit influences ; for to encourage those who were suspicious of the Jesuit was a suicidal policy, seeing that the Jesuit influence was the strength of the Ultramontane party.* For a time the struggle between the Liberal and the Ultramontane influences was no unequal one. The Liberal movement could count in its train between* some of the best, most intellectual, and most Liberal and ardent minds. It was, moreover, seen by many montane ^at tnere was some wisdom in adopting a Liberal programme at a time when Liberalism was strong, and when the Liberal policy of foreign govern ments was giving scope to the free action of the Church ; but the reactionary party slowly but surely won its way, largely aided by the character of the Pope (Pius IX.), * The term Ultramontane was primarily applied to those members of the Roman Church who lived on the Italian side of the Alps. It afterwards was used more in a theological than in a geographical sense, and denoted those whose policy was to strengthen Roman influences, and mainly the authority of the Pope. 1870] NEW PAPAL DOGMA 445 who sat in the papal throne during the eventful years from 1846 till 1878. From one point of view the Ultramontane party were actuated by an unerring sagacity. The leaders of this party instinctively and consistently abhorred Liberal ism ; they saw that Liberalism must undermine authority, and they judged that the alliance between Liberalism and Romanticism was not likely to endure. There was an element in Liberalism which must in the long run destroy Romanticism. Moved by the instinct of these principles they adhered to the strongest assertion of authority, and they set to work to give it further prominence. They pro ceeded to intrigue for a declaration of authority which would withdraw many subjects from discussion by affirming the existence of a sole central authority in matters of faith and morals. The Catholicity of the Middle Ages was destined to find its expression in the most formidable assertion of official individualism. The predominating influence of the Jesuits, though studiously kept in the background, showed itself in the decree on Immaculate Conception, which de- Do„ma of clared concerning the sinlessness of the Virgin immaculate Mary. This had hitherto been regarded as an Conception, open question, but now (1854) liberty of opinion on the subject was put an end to, by the new dogma which affirmed, not only that the Virgin Mary was without sin, but that she was sinless in nature. But the Ultramontanes were not satisfied with the pro mulgation of dogmas of this kind ; their aim was to obtain the declaration of a principle which would estab- Papal lish and limit the seat of authority in matters infallibility, of faith and morals. They commenced a cam paign on behalf of an authoritative declaration of the infallibility of the Pope. Pius IX. was just the character of man to favour such a movement. He was not a pro found scholar, and being dazzled by the prospect held out 446 VATICAN COUNCIL [1847- to him, he began, even before the decree was made, to declare that he felt himself to be infallible. For the purpose of considering the question a great council was summoned to Rome. More than 750 bishops v . met in January, 1870. It was believed by the Council, Jesuits that the council would be promptly l87°- unanimous in declaring for infallibility. The council would last, it was thought, for three weeks. But the opposition was strong, and, what was more important, it included all the most learned and thoughtful of the bishops. After six months of intriguing and threatening the dogma of Papal Infallibility was declared to be an article of Christian faith by the vote of less than half the bishops who had originally assembled for the council. Thus by a minority of the Roman Catholic Episcopate there was added to the Christian faith a dogma which, if true, needed no council to declare it. It was noticed by many as curiously appropriate that the new dogma was promulgated in the midst of a thunderstorm, and before Europe had fully realised the significance of the new decree, another and more fatal storm had altered the political condition of Europe, for France, the protector of the Roman Pontiff, the eldest son of the Church, had fallen before the victorious arms of United Germany ; and within a year the empire of Germany had been revived, and the temporal power of the Pope had vanished away. It is necessary for us to remember these advances in dogmatic utterances made by Rome. It is one of the unfortunate results of the ascendency of the Decree" * JesUlt influence that their policy, persistently and unscrupulously pursued, has put fresh barriers in the way of the reunion of Christendom. " No one who is moderately acquainted with the history of the Eastern Church and of the Protestant bodies will seriously i87o] THE OLD CATHOLICS 447 hold it to be conceivable that a time can ever come in which even any considerable portion of these churches will subject itself, of its own free will, to the arbitrary power of a single man. . . . Only when a universal con flagration of libraries had destroyed all historical documents, when Easterns and Westerns knew no more of their own early history than the Maories in New Zealand know of theirs now, and when, by a miracle, great nations had abjured their whole intellectual character and habits of thought — then, and not till then, would such a submission be possible." Such is the language of Dr. Dollinger, the most learned continental theologian of his day — himself a Roman Catholic till the infallibility decree drove him from the papal fold. He was perhaps the most eminent among those independent spirits who promoted the Old Catholic movement as it was called. In this movement were united all those who refused to accept the new and uncatholic dogma. A further effect of this decree was to stifle the Liberal hopes of all but the most sanguine in the Roman Communion. It did not, however, annihilate the hopes of inter-communion and ecclesiastical recognition enter tained by some English Churchmen. In spite of all which has happened chimerical visions have haunted the minds of some good and earnest men, who in recent years have tried to revive the Liberal influences which once counted for something in the councils of the Vatican, but the Ultramontane influence is likely to hold its own for many years to come. It is well, however, for members of the Church of England to know that the addition of new Anglican dogmas by the Church of Rome was not un- °e^aer^°ns noticed by the bishops of the Anglican Com- Roman munion. The dogma of the Immaculate D°e^as- Conception was mentioned in the Encyclical issued by the first Lambeth Conference as one of the additions 448 ANGLICAN DECLARATIONS [1847-70 with which the truth of God was overlaid, and the faithful were cautioned against the practical exaltation of the Blessed Virgin Mary as mediator in the place of her Divine Son. The second Lambeth Conference, held in 1878, after expressing sympathy with those who, calling themselves Old Catholics, had protested against the action of Rome, went on to say : " It is our duty to warn the faithful that the act done by the Bishop of Rome in the Vatican Council of 1870 — whereby he asserted a primacy over all men in faith and morals, on the ground of an assumed infallibility — was an invasion of the attributes of our Lord Jesus Christ." ST. ALBAN S CATHEDRAL. From a photograph by S. B. Bolas and Co. To face p. 448. CHAPTER XXXVII. LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL A.D. 1828-1870 When the nineteenth century had run somewhat more than half its course the Liberal movement in thought began to awaken general public attention. At that ... . time its onward current came into collision School of with popular thought. To understand the Thoueht-. meaning of the controversies which then agitated the minds of English Christians we must go back a little, and trace the story of the two great forces which entered into a kind of natural alliance. The Liberal movement of thought was both literary and scientific. We shall first trace the story of the literary aspect of the movement. About two hundred years ago there arose a controversy respecting the letters of Phalaris. Sir William Temple, supported by the Hon. Charles Boyle and a number of young Oxford men, declared that they were genuine : in Cambridge Dr. Bentley, the most Cr;yc"mt famous classical sdiolar of his day, declared that they were spurious. The language, the expression, the allusions were all cited as so much internal evidence to prove that they could not have been written in the days of Phalaris. Bentley won the battle, but ^^ he won far more than a victory over the de fenders of the letters of Phalaris. He won a victory for the cause of truth and honest criticism. The methods of investigation which he used were applied to 2 G 449 4SO LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL [1828- other writings. It soon became clear that ancient writings had been dealt with very freely by commentators and copyists; and existing ancient books were seen to be not always the complete original works of one writer, but works which had grown under the hands of many writers ; the copyist, the annotator, and even the forger had also played their part. In this way legend had been wedged into the middle of history — childish and uncritical minds had accepted tales which were interesting, and had in corporated them into narratives where they were often picturesque but irrelevant. A better, because a more in telligent, method of criticism arose. History was now disentangled more or less from the accretions of fable or myth. The simple facts, freed from these encumbrances, became possessed of a vivid and human significance, which made history more intelligible and more instructive. We have already noticed that in the beginning of the nine teenth century Niebuhr applied this wider and Niebuhr. , , -r. i • , , truer method to Roman history, and produced a book which gave a new impetus to the study of history and the pursuit of truth. Dr. Arnold, as we have seen, declared that it opened his eyes to the extent of his own ignorance. The new method could not be confined to classical literature only. If it was a trustworthy and honest way of dealing with ancient books, its application must be extended to sacred books also. The Germans led the way, and in the early part of the century scholars like Pusey and Hare went to Gottingen or Berlin to attend the lectures of Eichhorn, Schleiermacher, and Neander. But the bulk of English theologians lagged behind. They disliked the new methods, and they distrusted all who had sat at the feet of German teachers. In this way Pusey, when he returned, was for a time an object of suspicion. Some of the English scholars who had learned much in Germany sought to familiarise their countrymen with the results of 1870] HISTORICAL CRITICISM 451 German scholarship; others, like Pusey, having seen a little, fell back upon authority, and deepened the distrust of the spirit of inquiry. The advocates of the new methods had to fight their way to public recognition. Milman, whose brilliant works raised the whole level of English historical writing, was exposed to cruel misrepre sentation on account of his History of the Jews, published in 1829; Thomas Arnold, by his History of Rome; Thirlwall, and after him Grote, by their Histories of Greece, carried on the work of enlightenment in England, and all these historians, except Grote, were clergymen of the Church of England. Translations of German commentaries on the books of the Bible began to appear in England, but these were at first confined to the more conservative writers, and for long the advance made in Biblical criticism was only' Knowrrno a select circle of Englishmen. At this point we must turn to the story of the scientific side of the movement. We have seen what advances in knowledge of natural and practical science were made at the close of the eighteenth century and Thou'ht the beginning of the nineteenth century. We must now go forward as far as 1830 to notice an important step, which led to the opening of an almost unknown region of knowledge, and which brought about a revolu tion in men's thoughts about the earth. The year 1830 was marked by the second French Revo lution — Charles X. was compelled to leave his game of whist unfinished and fly the country, while his more astute cousin reaped out of the confusion the long-coveted honour of the crown. With his success, however, an old concep tion of monarchy passed away; there were no longer to be any monarchs of France, the victory of democratic principles was written on the new title of the sovereign who was accepted not as King of France, but as King of the French. 452 LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL [1828- In the same year which witnessed this revolution in politics a book was published in England, which was the precursor of a revolution in thought. People " had long noticed the existence of fossils, and had been struck by the broken and twisted character of the earth's crust. Before the true methods of interpreting either Nature or the Bible were understood, it had been common to seek in the Bible, or in some theological formula, for the explanation of such phenomena. The twisted earth, according to Jerome, was a sign of God's wrath against sin ; the fossils, according to Tertullian, were clearly due to the Flood; the remains of extinct animals were pointed to as specimens of the giants mentioned in the Bible. Investigation, pursued through many years, slowly convinced thinking men that these explanations were not only groundless but impossible theories. Fossils were found everywhere, and the deluge could not have been universal. Further study of the earth showed that long ages had been spent in its formation. In bringing out these conclusions scientific men had to encounter the strongest and stormiest theological prejudices. They were warned to bring their theories into harmony with the two events, the creation of the world in six days and the world wide deluge. In 1830 Sir Charles Lyell, an eminent and thoughtful man of science, published the book I have mentioned. It was simply entitled Principles of Geology. It provoked a perfect hurricane of abuse. So vehement was the condemnation that timid men were afraid to avow their convictions, and Lyell was not only ex- Panic.08^"1* posed to newspaper attacks, but was in danger of social excommunication. The dread of science blinded the eyes of good men, and men of science became martyrs for truth. The scientific world contained, besides Lyell, men eminent as Brewster and Michael Faraday; but when the British Association visited Oxford in 1832, 1870] FEARS OF THE CLERGY 453 and honorary degrees were given to men like Faraday and Brewster, good and ' amiable Keble lamented that Oxford authorities had " truckled sadly to the spirit of the times in receiving the hotch-potch of philosophers as they did." As we look back we are astonished at the vehemence of the attacks, and all the more so as the true principles of interpretation had been contended for in Misapprehen- England two centuries earlier by no less an sions of authority than Bacon. He had cautioned men eo °s'ans- against endeavouring to found a natural philosophy on the Bible, and so seeking the dead among the living. The result, he foretold, would be fatal alike to science and faith, as it would breed a fantastic philosophy and a heretical religion. But few people at the time understood the elements of the problem. The theologians who led religious opinion probably knew little more of Bacon's works than his Essays; they had neither mastered his methods nor imbibed his spirit. They were behind their age as much as he was in advance of his own. In their eyes the geologist with his pick and hammer was destroy ing the sacred edifice of divine truth. But happily the Church had within her bosom men who knew something of science, and, more, who were not afraid of truth. Dean Buckland, who had made a Attitude of special study of geology, acted as a sort of the better intellectual mediator for a time; but more valuable than mere expert knowledge was the spirit and temper which some of the clergy brought to the con sideration of these matters. The men whose eyes had been opened to the meaning of historical criticism per ceived the real principles which must govern these discussions. No amount of traditional belief, still less of theological denunciation, could keep back the advance of truth. They were ready, therefore, to meet such 454 LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL [^28- questions with candour. Nearly a generation elapsed before the results of scientific thought had penetrated far enough to cause a struggle within the Church itself. We must move forward to i860 to see the beginning of this struggle. In that year appeared a book bearing "Essays and tne modest title Essays and Reviews. It was Reviews," a volume consisting of seven essays on various subjects, but all united by the common prin ciple that within its domain the voice of science must be supreme. There was very little said in the book which would excite much opposition to-day ; but the essays were conceived in a somewhat too destructive spirit ; they lacked that constructive suggestiveness which is of such import ance when people are being asked to surrender some cherished beliefs. The seven writers of these essays were attacked with almost unexampled violence. They were called the "Septem contra Christum." The strong High Churchman and the strong Low Churchman found them selves side by side. A prosecution was set on foot. As in the case of Mr. Gorham the Evangelical clergy felt, though they did not wholly agree with Mr. Gorham, that an attempt was being made to expel them from the Church, so now Prosecution. ., . the more liberal-minded clergy, though not pre pared to endorse all that had been written in Essays and Reviews, felt that the prosecution now initiated meant a blow to Liberal opinion in the Church. Two of the seven writers were selected for prosecution, as it was believed that against them the clearest cases could be made out. The two selected were the Rev. H. B. Wilson and Rev. Dr. Rowland Williams. The former had treated of the question of subscription to the Articles and Formularies of the National Church ; the latter of the Old Testament in its relation to recent critical investigation. The Dean of Arches, before whom the cases were first heard, condemned 1870] ESSAYS AND REVIEWS 455 the writers ; the Privy Council, to whom appeal was made, reversed this decision. The opposition was not confined to legal proceedings. Convocation pronounced against the essayists. A gigantic petition, thoughtlessly worded, was signed by no fewer than 11,000 clergymen, who sought to commit the Church of England to a belief in the scientific authority of the Bible, using language which went far beyond the declaration in the Sixth Article. Bishop Thirlwall described the signatories as a series of figures following a decimal point, the whole of which could never reach the value of a single unit. The comparison gave offence, but it was so far pertinent that the petitioners signed in panic, and hardly realised that they were in effect demanding the addition of two new Articles to the creed of their Church — one on the nature of inspiration, and another on future punishment. Thus the movement on behalf of more Liberal thought in the Church had to contend, as other movements had done, against misconception and misrepresentation. Un worthy methods were adopted by their oppo nents. Mr. Jowett, one of the essayists, was j^™"' appointed Professor of Greek at Oxford, and for years his rightfully-earned stipend was withheld from him by the illogical meanness of his antagonists. Mean while it was well that men of fearless intellects and open minds had sought to prepare the religious world to accept new ideas. Science did not stand still though the religious newspapers were shouting " heretic," and though agitation and panic led well-meaning and unreflecting people to advocate the narrowing of the borders of the Church of England. The excitement caused by Essays and Revieivs was still at fever heat when further warmth was generated by the appearance of a book, in which Dr. Colenso, Bishop 456 LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL [,&*- of Natal, declared his belief that certain portions of the Pentateuch belonged to much later dates than were „. , commonly supposed, and that a number of Coienso, ancient legends had been incorporated with l86*- the history. Bishop Coienso was denounced. The Bishop of Capetown, claiming to exercise metropolitan jurisdiction, excommunicated him ; his Vicar-General, at the door of the cathedral of Natal, bade the Bishop depart from the house of God as one who has been handed over to the Evil One. In England an effort was made to deprive the Bishop of his salary. By far the greater part of the clergy were against Bishop Coienso. The utmost violence of feeling was shown. Among the few who showed sympathy with Bishop Coienso was Arthur Stanley, Dean of Westminster. Dean Stanley did not relish Colenso's style or spirit of treating Stanley tne C°- Testament, but he believed him to be unfairly treated, and with a chivalrous self- forgetfulness he stood by his side. At one of the stormy meetings held at the rooms of the Society for the Propaga tion of the Gospel Dean Stanley had to face alone a crowd of angry opponents. But so quiet and courteous was his demeanour throughout the trying ordeal that one of those who had opposed him went to him at the close of the meeting and asked to shake hands with him, saying, "I am against you, Mr. Dean, but I must allow that if the orthodoxy is on one side the Christianity is on the other." The researches of geologists were followed by those of Mr. Darwin and Mr. Wallace in anthropology. The . , , origin of man, like that of the earth, was now Anthropology. . . investigated. The theories that the making of man had resembled the action of a child when it makes a mud house gave way before nobler and more magnificent conceptions of God's manner of working. The events which we have touched upon are but episodes in the !87o] SCIENTIFIC THOUGHT 457 great war which has been waged for upwards of three hundred years. The spirit which was born into Europe with the Reformation movement was one which was destined to assail all merely traditional beliefs. It assailed the traditions upon which the Roman Church founded her claims and proved their insecurity. The ancient documents, when brought to light and examined, showed the vast differ ence between primitive and mediaeval Christianity. The spirit which inquired was reinforced as science began her work. New weapons came into her hands, the strongest of which was the scientific method. This, put in another form, only meanPthe strict adherence to those principles of inquiry which are necessary to arrive at truth. In the course of the struggle which ensued there were prejudiced men who fought under the flag of science and who were more anxious to demolish religion than to discover truth ; but the advance of knowledge happily does not depend upon these. The progress of a war is seldom settled by the men who fire upon an ambulance tent. The entrench ments of traditional theories were hotly defended, but before the weight of facts which science brought to bear upon them they began to crumble away. The world did move, though tradition would fain have kept it fixed. The universe was not a hasty product, as tradition declared, but assumed present form through the changing processes of countless years. Men's thoughts were widened. Creation was vaster in range and more majestic in method than they had dreamed of. Man was not tied upon a narrow stretch of earth and bidden to look at a monotonously revolving sky. He was the life-tenant of a habitation which was one of a myriad whirling worlds, and round about him was a boundless and unexplored space into which the earth was flying forward at a breathless pace. Marvellous and in scrutable forces, like angels of God, were at work helping onward the development of life and order. Man was not 458 LIBERAL THOUGHT ON TRIAL [1828- the spectator of what was finished and laid aside : he was looking upon a scene of entrancing beauty and ever-new delight, upon things which were growing from day to day and from cycle to cycle. He could not, indeed, forecast the consummation of all things, but he could appreciate the successive stages of the great drama and perceive some thing of its tendency and direction. The vaster range of creation enlarged his thoughts, of God and deepened his reverence for Him who makes everything beautiful in its time, and yet keeps the full knowledge of times and seasons in His own power. But the same knowledge, by showing men the greater sweep of the growing universe, brought to them a confidence which they never knew before. Formerly, plague and tempest and falling star filled them with dismay, but the realisation of the laws of the universe established their trust in Him whose provi dence never fails, seeing He rules in faithfulness the realms to which He has given laws which shall not be broken. Hope, as well as faith, was strengthened as they realised that the rhythm of Nature's laws told the story of develop ment and advance. Much nearer to them, also, God Him self was brought. Knowledge did not banish mystery : it revealed it as existing everywhere. It was no longer here and there that the traces of God's hand and presence were to be found. In the smallest flower in the crannied wall, in the thoughts that rise unbidden to the heart, in the deep and unsatisfied hunger of every human soul were mysteries which, if they did not reveal God, were yet insoluble without the thought of Him. He became the necessary postulate of every law, of every memory, and of every aspiration. Thus great and continuous scientific dis coveries raised men's imaginations to loftier, larger, and tenderer views of God. He was no longer the simple artificer whom Paley had imagined ; He was no longer the distant and indolent monarch, which was the highest i87o] ELEVATION OF IDEAS 459 conception of last century; He was the eternal worker, the ever-present and ever-near source of life, light, and movement to His universe. In the light of these grander conceptions the simple dignity and appropriateness of the Christian creed became more vivid and better understood. The old suspicions which separated religion and science Jf^f tions began to pass away as men realised that fresh knowledge must in every department of life occasion modifications of our previous conceptions, and that an intellectual conception, whether in science or theology, must be limited and imperfect, and ought to be capable of growing more fit and more full as life and nature and man are better understood. It was realised, too, that within the sphere of man's religious consciousness there were facts and experiences as genuine and as real as any mere external facts. More and more, too, it was felt that one life and one alone could give adequate expression or in terpretation to those facts, and that was the Life of Christ. And further, that life was seen in the constant revivifi cation of Churches and individuals to be a life of perennial power. Men realised that religious life, like all other life, is its own witness. As long as men "are alive they do not need to prove that they are alive, it is only in the moment that death is near or feared that we ask for tests and proofs of life. And as long as the Spirit of Christ is alive among men, and is seen and attested in heroism, self-denial, truthfulness, missionary enthusiasm, or fidelity to duty, we have a witness of the vitality of the faith which is more convincing and enduring than human decrees, arguments, or anathemas can ever supply. CHAPTER XXXVIIl. EUCHARISTIC AND RITUAL CONTROVERSIES A.D. 1870-1899 The decision in the case of Essays and Reviews had given great umbrage to many in the Church of England. It was regarded as securing the legal position to those Prevalent whose views were regarded by many with Desire for natural apprehension. The truth, however, was that the general feeling of thoughtful men in favour of a very wide toleration in matters of religious opinion was increasing, and consequently there was great reluctance to pronounce against men who were accused of theological errors. Those who belonged to the Low Church school had reaped the advantage of this tolerant spirit in the Gorham judgment ; the Broad Church thinkers had benefited by it in the Essays and Reviews case. It now became the turn of the High Church party to gain by the Liberal spirit of the times. In many quarters the teaching of some extreme men on the subject of the Holy Communion was thought to be perilously near the teaching of Rome. Teaching.'0 Language was used which seemed to express a belief in something very like a material presence in the elements. The Church of England, with her usual moderation and Church of good sense, has avoided extremes in this England's matter. On the one side she has clearly Position. affirmed her belief in the reality of the presence 460 1870-99] SACRAMENTAL TEACHING 461 of Christ. She could not believe that He who said, " Lo ! I am with you always, even unto the end of the ages," was not present where two or three were gathered together in obedience to His com- „eal , _ presence. mand. On the other hand, she explicitly declared against any material or Corporal Presence, and consequently affirmed that no adoration ought to be done, either unto the Sacramental Bread and Wine or unto any Corporal Presence of Christ's natural Flesh and Blood. Further, she exhibited a careful resolution to maintain that very simple spiritual law that l^j^ns. the benefit of things spiritual must, from the nature of the case among responsible beings, depend upon moral conditions. This law is quite obvious, and readily recognised outside the region of theological controversy. Things are to us as we are to them. " The pure in heart shall see God " : the impure cannot see Him. The world- spirit, as our Lord taught us, is blind to spiritual things. Though the Divine Spirit came upon all flesh, yet wherever the world-spirit dwelt the Divine Spirit was not received, because He was not recognised. The world could not receive Him because "it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him." Spiritual things are spiritually discerned. The Church of England sought anxiously to preserve the recognition of this constantly reiterated principle of the spiritual kingdom; and therefore she affirmed in her 29th Article that those in whom the evil and faithless spirit prevailed missed the spiritual benefit of the Holy Communion. "The wicked, and such as be void of a lively faith, although they do carnally and visibly press with their teeth (as Saint Augustine saith) the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, yet in no wise are they partakers of Christ : but rather, to their condemna tion, do eat and drink the sign or Sacrament of so great a thing." 462 CONTROVERSIES [1870- Thus the Church of England seemed to put forward three lines of thought, each of which was designed to ward off an error. She was emphatic against any Bulwark materialistic notions; she was equally em- Principies phatic on the reality of the spiritual presence ; and, finally, she was emphatic in affirming the need of proper spiritual dispositions on the part of the worshipper. In taking up this position she set herself on the side of those who regard things spiritual and not things material as the true realities, and on the side of those who maintained that spiritual dispositions were needful for spiritual perceptions. Now, in the struggle of human thought concerning spiritual truth it happens that opponents, jealous to pro- Extremes tect one aspect of truth, forget another. The overlook opposition, therefore, often means that there are two sides of truth, both of which are needed to get the whole truth. The profile is as true a manifestation of a man's countenance as the full face. From both combined we get the best conception of the real man. It is the same with truth. We need both sides. Some of the Reforming divines, such as Zwingle and his followers, in their reaction against the materialism expressed in the Roman doctrine of Transubstantiation, went to an opposite extreme. The Holy Communion was a mere remembrance of the Saviour who died in the Holy Land. It was only on an effort of human recol lection that the whole service depended. But this could hardly satisfy those who asked not for a Christ who could be recalled by memory, but for a Christ who could be with them, a Christ not of yesterday but of to-day, not of to-day only but of yesterday, to-day, and for ever. It was the eternal, not only the historic Christ, which the soul of man asked for. The Church of England met this need by affirming the real presence of the eternal 1899] ERRORS AVOIDED 463 Christ, whose Body and Blood were "verily and indeed taken and received by the faithful in the Lord's Supper." The presence is real ; it is a presence independent of man's intervention. Man does not make Christ present. The act of the priest, on which the Romanist lays stress, does not make it ; the act of memory, on which the Zwinglian lays stress, does not make it. It is a real, eternal presence, independent of mere human agency. The realisation of it belongs to the spiritual region ; the eternal things are the things unseen, and ' these are spiritually discerned. In laying down her position the Church of England avoided the error which was common to the opposing ex tremes, viz. the error of believing that man could create his own Christ or make Him present, paradox It was the Spirit alone that could make " Jesus present still." It will be seen that there is a sort of paradox about the Church of England teaching. On the one side she affirms the presence of Christ to be inde pendent of man ; on the other it is dependent on him. It is real, she sa; and man cannot create it or banish it ; and yet it depends upon the worshipper. It is not dependent on man's power; it is dependent on man's condition. It is like the sunlight, all-diffusive, all- pervasive, and yet it is veiled by the earth-born cloud. None can command it; none resist it; and yet from a worldly heart it shrinks away. God is everywhere, and yet it is only in the upright and contrite spirit that He can dwell. We see therefore that the paradox is not a contradiction : it embodies the two sides of truth; one side being that a divine presence is, and must ever be, inde- Parodox pendent of any man's will, and the other being, not Contra- that the divine presence to any man is de pendent, because it is spiritual, on spiritual conditions. 464 CONTROVERSIES [1870- Opposing teachers ran into extremes by forgetting or minimising one or other of these sides of truth. The Nineteenth- Eucharistic controversies of the nineteenth Century century exemplify this. The reception of the Holy Communion was too often regarded as a sort of duty ; men attended it either in a perfunctory way or with a vague and unintelligent sense of obligation. When religious life awoke, a better spirit began to prevail. The love of the redeeming Christ led many to obey His command; but the prevailing thought was of the Christ who died eighteen hundred years before : there was as yet little recognition of the eternal and ever-present Christ. This, however, soon followed. It would take too long to show how the teaching of Coleridge, and Coleridge^ Thomas Erskine of Linlathen, and Frederick Denison Maurice drew men's minds to the realisation of an eternal Christ; but the stream of their teaching as it moved met the stream of sacramental teaching which had its origin in Oxford, and the two streams ran parallel, at first not mingling their waters, but afterwards doing so to the great gain of solid truth. But this was later ; for the time the school which sought to emphasise the independent presence of Christ was tempted to use language so strong and ex- Cases Tried. v 6 ° ° . aggerated that it seemed to run, and in some cases it did run, perilously near to teaching disowned by the Archdeacon Church of England. Thus Archdeacon Denison Denison, in 1855, almost explicitly contradicted the 29th i8ss- Article, and later Mr. Bennett, vicar of Frome (1867), used words which appeared to many to teach a Bennett presence of Christ in the Eucharist which it Case, was difficult to discriminate from a material or '"'"'"' ''" materialised presence. By the advice of Dr. Pusey Mr. Bennett amended his phraseology. In the i899] RITUAL AGITATION 465 cases of both these clergymen prosecutions took place. In that of Archdeacon Denison the sentence against him pronounced by Dr. Lushington was set aside on technical grounds. In that of Mr. Bennett his teaching on the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist was held to be not inconsistent with the teaching of the Church, though on the matter of the adoration of the Sacrament his language was declared to be rash and doubtful. Thus the result of three great trials, in which doctrine was involved, resulted in giving a standing place to each of the three schools of thought in the Church. Doubtless these judgments in their turn offended many, but on the whole they satisfied those who desired to maintain the wide and generous comprehensiveness of the National Church. About this time the country became increasingly agitated concerning a development of Church ceremonial, which became known as Ritualism. As a rule, when we form a word of this kind with an ism as its R'itUaiism. termination, we intend to express a movement or development of an exaggerated kind. Anything may be unduly emphasised, that is, it may be dwelt upon in a disproportionate way. Thus, for example, every Church must have some teaching, doctrine, or dogma. If it has nothing to teach, it is a Church without a message, an ambassador without tidings; but it may, in its eagerness to insist on right teaching, forget that religion is right living as well as right thinking. Then we are right in accusing it of dogmatism, because it is losing the true sense of proportion in the matter. In the same way every Church has a ritual, that is, some method or fashion in which it conducts its worship. It may be a very simple ritual, or a very elaborate one, but ritual of some kind it must have, even if it be only the custom of standing or kneeling in prayer. It is easy to see that undue importance 2 H 466 CONTROVERSIES [1870- may be attached to ritual. Men become enamoured of one way of doing a thing because they find it helpful to themselves ; they then think their way must necessarily be helpful to others ; the next step they take is to declare their way of doing it to be the only lawful way. When this happens the true proportion of things is lost sight of, and the movement which supports such an exaggeration would be called Ritualism. Thus the name Ritualism was applied to a certain development of ceremonial in worship as a term to express the public feeling that there was a danger of a disproportionate attention being paid to fashions and methods of worship. But as there must be ritual, the question of how much Legitimate or ^ow ''t^e *s desirable or legitimate, is not Ritual so easy to settle as the more general and '""' '"" obvious one, that it is possible to attach too much importance to it. The Church of England has taken up, as we should have expected, a very safe and sober position on matters of ritual. In her view each Church in Principles Christendom has the right inherent in itself of Church t0 establish what form of worship, what rites and ceremonies she sees fit to adopt. This is her judgment (Article XXXIV.) : " It is not necessary that Traditions and Ceremonies be in all places one, or utterly alike ; for at all times they have been divers, and may be changed according to the diversities of countries, times, and men's manners, so that nothing be ordained against God's Word." But while the Church of England thus proclaims liberty of action for particular or national Churches, she expects a loyal obedience from the members of the Church to whatever has been ordained. She con demns those who of their "private judgment, willingly and and purposely " break the " traditions and ceremonies of the Church." The same principle is laid down in the 1899] THE CHURCH'S PRINCIPLE 467 Preface to the Prayer Book. Rites and ceremonies are "things in their own nature indifferent," but the wilful breaking of "a common order is no small offence." Acting on these principles the Church of England retained some rites and ceremonies, and put away others ; she put away those which had become burdensome, or had been put to superstitious use, or had been made the excuse for covetousness. The agitation respecting Ritualism arose because some clergymen sought to revive some disused rites or cere monies which, on one side, were declared to be not only obsolete but unlawful. On the ^Station other side it was argued that some of these practices were only revivals of lawful practices which had fallen into neglect. It was soon found that the claim of lawfulness was true as regards some practices, but that there were others which could not be covered by this plea. New Concerning these it was not contended that Principle there was any positive warrant for them in a vance ' the Prayer Book, but it was claimed that any ancient rite or custom which was not specifically forbidden in the Prayer Book must be considered as lawful. This argument was advanced long before the Ritualistic con troversy became acute. It was advanced as early as 183 1 by Mr. Bennett of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge. The claim was described by the Guardian newspaper as , , Declaration " altogether unprecedented. It was repudiated 0fthe by the Bishops in a joint pastoral as a distinct Bishops, and serious evil, and as a principle which, if admitted, would justify far greater and more serious evil. It was clearly, too, a principle which would put an end to that uniformity which had been the principle fought for and demanded with so much earnestness by the great Churchmen of former days. 468 CONTROVERSIES [1870- The Ritual movement thus dates from the sixth decade of the century or even earlier. It was a sort of side development of the Oxford movement. In Aspect of process of time the public learned to dis- Rituai criminate, with a charitable toleration, between Movement. matters which added a harmless and reverent dignity to the services of the Church, and those matters „ , „. , which looked like attempts to introduce cere- Good Side. . , . monies clearly out of harmony with the spirit of the Church of England. The good side of the move ment was aided by the general improvement in taste and in artistic and musical appreciation, which has marked the last half-century. The doubtful side of the movement provoked a hostility which was perfectly natural, though sometimes violent and exaggerated. On the one side it was contended Side " ^at the ceremonies and practices were viola tions of the law; on the other side it was claimed that they were covered by the rubrics. The plea that they were justified by usage antecedent to existing rubrics was not much spoken of in public. The conflict at this time was mainly as to the meaning of the rubrics. On certain points it was felt by some that the law was doubtful. In these circumstances many felt that it was import ant to ascertain the law. This could only be done by Prosecutions bringing a case to trial. Prosecutions were to ascertain undertaken from time to time, and the judg ment of the Privy Council elicited. It is no part of our purpose to enter into a detailed account of these cases, but it will be well to notice the general principle which frequently governed the decisions which were given. This principle was that no rite or ceremony was to be deemed lawful unless it was either enjoined by rubric or i899] PUBLIC WORSHIP ACT 469 was clearly necessary in order to fulfil some rubric. One example may make this clear. A dispute arose concern ing the lawfulness of a credence table, that is, GeneraI a small side table on which the bread and wine Principle laid might be placed till required. The use of such own' a credence table was unknown in the majority of churches at the time. It was introduced by some clergymen and was opposed as illegal. Now there is no specific mention of a credence table in the Prayer Book, but it was nevertheless deemed to be a lawful piece of church furniture on the reasonable ground that as the rubric ordered that just before the Prayer for the Church Militant the requisite bread and wine were to be placed upon the holy table, it was obvious that it was quite lawful to provide a table from which they might be brought at the fitting time. Thus the principle on which the judgments, generally speaking, proceeded was that only those things were lawful which were expressly enjoined or were necessary Endorsed the for carrying out the clear injunctions of the Bishops' rubric. The judgments therefore endorsed the DecIaration- view expressed by the Bishops, that primA facie whatever was not either explicitly or implicitly enjoined was unlawful. The public apprehension caused by ritual extravagances at last showed itself in Parliamentary action. In 1874 a measure known as the Public Worship Regula- Public tion Bill was passed by both Houses, the Prime Worship Act, Minister, Mr. Disraeli, declaring that the object ,8?4' of the Bill was to put down Ritualism. The passing of this measure had some unfortunate results. The Bill pro vided a new judge for the trial of ecclesiastical cases. The appointment of this new judge gave offence to some clergy who had no special sympathy with Ritualistic extravagances. There were some technical omissions in the manner of the new judge's appointment, and it appeared to some that the rights of the Church had been set aside. The judge- 470 CONTROVERSIES [1870- was declared on these grounds to be a State-made, and not a Church - approved, judge. Some Churchmen therefore refused to recognise his court. All this produced a dis agreeable and unfortunate state of things, which was aggravated by the results of some of the prosecutions. In two or three cases clergymen who refused to obey the decisions against them were committed to prison. Of course their imprisonment was, technically, not for their practices but for contempt of court in disobeying its monitions ; but none the less it seemed to many to be an incongruous and disproportionate penalty to fall upon men who were good and devoted, even if unwisely obstinate on small matters. Public sympathy, though not with Ritual ism, was certainly against imprisonment for ecclesiastical offences. The question of the reform of the ecclesiastical courts was in this way brought into notice, and the question still excites considerable interest among Churchmen. Ecciesiastica yarjous proposals have been made from time to time, but no proposal has as yet finally approved itself to the judgment of the most moderate and thoughtful minds. The real difficulty lies in the inability of extremists, Erastian and ecclesiastical, to understand the really national position of the Church of England. But this is a matter the discussion of which is not within our scope. The history of these legal difficulties culminated in the offer of the Archbishops to act as the Prayer Book entitled them to act in cases of rubrical or ritual difficulty. The Prayer Book enjoined that where any doubt as to rubrical interpretation occurred reference was to be made to the Bishop, and if the Bishop was in doubt, he might refer to the Archbishop. Taking their stand upon this rubric, the Archbishops expressed their readiness to consider any cases properly brought before them. Two cases have up to the t899] THE ARCHBISHOPS' HEARING 471 present time been brought (1899) before the Primates, both of them being cases in the Province of Canterbury. As the result of these hearings, at which both Archbishops were present and acted together, the ceremonial use of incense and of lights has been pronounced unlawful. The decisions are only opinions, that is, they have not the force of legal decisions, but the moral weight of them has been great, and those who have felt a difficulty about pleading before what they regarded as State-made courts have been con strained to admit the purely ecclesiastical character of the decisions thus given. CHAPTER XXXIX. PUBLIC PROGRESS A.D. 1867-1897 The period which witnessed the exciting controversies of which we have heard was marked by one or two public acts of great moment. The first of these involved a political struggle, in which Church questions Church were the subject of the conflict. By the Act Conflict, 0f Union in 1801 the Church of Ireland be came one with the Church of England and the United Kingdom recognised a united Church. But in the years 1865 and 1866 public attention was turned to the position of the Irish branch of the Church. The existence of an Established Church in Ireland was declared to be a grievance. It was pointed out by those who attacked it that the Established Church could claim only a minority in Ireland, and it was argued that it was unjust to maintain a well -endowed establishment for the benefit of three-quarters of a million of people in a land where there were three million of Roman Catholics, and perhaps a million belonging to other denominations. In answer to this, it was urged that as there was now a united Church of the United Kingdom, the relation of the whole Church to the kingdom as a whole ought to be considered; that it was not fair to measure the religious proportion of people in one part of the kingdom only ; that if measured in the only fair way, in relation to the total population of England 472 1867-97] IRISH CHURCH 473 and Ireland, the united Church could claim a majority of adherents. It was further pointed out that if the principle of separate estimates for different localities were to be adopted the position of the Church in Wales or in Cornwall was, as far as principle was con cerned, quite as indefensible as that in Ireland; it was therefore argued that the attack on the Irish branch of the Church was based on a vicious and dangerous principle of separation between different parts of the king dom ; the defence of the Church was based upon the principle of union. At this juncture a movement took place which ac centuated public feeling on Irish affairs. A Secret Society had been formed, and was largely re cruited among American Irish, many of whom societyn'i8o7 had served in the great war between the Northern and Southern States. Irish discontent was fostered by these men, and the great Fenian Organisa tion, as the secret society was called, commenced what was described as its campaign. In 1867 an attempted rising in Ireland was easily suppressed. The Fenians now commenced a series of outrages, and in December of the same year an attempt was made to blow up Clerkenwell Prison, where two Fenians were imprisoned. An explosion in the Metropolis stirred the most apathetic to take some interest in Irish matters. The question of Irish grievances thus came to the front. Mr. Gladstone took up the question of the Irish Church, and threw in his lot with those who desired to disestablish and disendow it. In leading this attack Mr. Gladstone laid down a principle which was the parent of inextricable political confusion. He declared that Ireland ought to be governed by Irish ideas. The country went with Mr. Gladstone, not because it accepted the far-reaching and doubtful doctrine thus laid 474 PUBLIC PROGRESS [1867- down, but because it took a practical view of the question, and regarded the expense of the Irish Establishment as disproportionate to the small number of ad- estabifshment nerents- People were anxious also to remove and Dis- every just cause of offence from their fellow- i86o°Wment' subjects in Ireland. The proposal for the disestablishment and disendowment of the Irish Church was hotly debated in both Houses of Parliament; the debate in the Lords called forth from Dr. Magee, recently appointed Bishop of Peterborough, in defence of the Irish Church the most brilliant oratorical effort which had been heard for a generation within the walls of the House. The Bill was ultimately carried, and the political bond between the Churches of England and Ireland was severed. To the disestablished Church, however, there was secured some measure of endowment, and, what it valued more, because belonging to it of ancient and immemorial right, the recognition of its title as the Church of Ireland. The year 1870 witnessed a great change in the educa tional system of England. Hitherto the education of the The masses of the people had been practically left Education in the hands of those religious bodies or philan- Biii, 1870. thropic societies which built and conducted schools. The share of the Government was confined to paying certain grants of money in aid of the schools when the Government inspectors reported that the education was of a satisfactory character. For some years a growing feeling had sprung up that a great deal more ought to be done. Experts and those who had examined the condition of schools abroad, particularly in Germany, declared that England was behindhand in the matter. In 1870 the question of national education was taken in hand by Mr. Gladstone's Government. To Mr. W. E. Forster is due the honour of having introduced 1897] EDUCATION QUESTION 475 the new system. According to this, wherever school accommodation was required, ratepayers in any district might elect a School Board, which could build and maintain by rates raised in the district, whatever schools were needed, subject to the approval of the Education Department. The Boards were further given powers to compel parents to send their children to school. The new system caused considerable controversy. Broadly speaking, it was welcomed by the Nonconformists and opposed by a certain proportion of the The clergy of the Church of England. Unfortunately Religious the irreconcilable extremes, as usual, did great Q^^1011' harm to the cause of both national education and national religion. The extremes agreed in one point. They pre ferred to sacrifice the religious interests of the whole rising generation rather than sanction a system of religious teaching that did not harmonise with their own views. The extreme sections of the clergy of the Church of England did their best to cripple and render unpopular the new system ; they were never tired of denouncing it as irreligious, and they were persistently hostile to any effort which by a compromise among the various denom inations might have provided the basis of a nationally recognised system of religious education. The extreme on the other side, known as the Birmingham party, con sisted largely of Nonconformists, who declared for bare secularism in education as preferable to any religious system which left a loophole for Church teaching. The defects in the religious teaching under the School Boards have been greatly exaggerated. The religious teaching under some Boards has been excellent ; but for the defects of the system, such as they are,- the extreme wing of the Church and the extreme wing of Nonconformity are mainly responsible. The moderate and temperate-minded people, who were ready to sacrifice something of their own views 476 PUBLIC PROGRESS [1867- in order to secure the teaching of common Christianity to the rising generation, were outclamoured by the noisy talkers of the extremes. It is to the credit of one eminent Nonconformist, the Rev. Charles Spurgeon, who will pro bably be remembered as the most remarkable preacher to the masses in Queen Victoria's reign, that he led a protest of rebuke against his brother Nonconformists who had forsaken, as he believed, the high religious traditions of their forefathers by supporting secularism in education. There can be no doubt, however, in spite of the faults which may be found with the system on religious or other grounds, that the cause of national education Education. nas Deen greatly advanced in the kingdom since 1870. In 1870 there was, in Great Britain, an average attendance in school of 1,454,000. This had risen in 1894 to 5,318,000. The national energy in the matter may be judged by the expenditure on education. In 1830 the grant from Government amounted to ,£30,000 ; in 1894 the sum voted was .£7,655,000, and even this is far below the real amount spent on education in the course of the year. It is curious to notice that in the year when the Education Act was passed there occurred a great conti nental struggle, which forced upon the attention German War °^ thoughtful men the practical importance of a thorough national education. A war broke out between France and Germany. To the amazement of most people, the power of France collapsed like a pricked bubble. The first shot was fired early in August ; in less than five weeks the victory of Germany was practi cally assured. Louis Napoleon surrendered on September 2nd at Sedan with 90,000 men. On October 27th Metz, with 180,000 men, capitulated. Before September was over Paris was besieged. It held out heroically for over five months; but on March ist, 187 1, the German troops rode as conquerors beneath the Arc de Triomphe. 1897] RELIGIOUS ACTIVITY 477 A French writer expressed the views of many, that the victory of Germany had been won in the realm of thought as well as on the field of war. " Not only have we seen German generals triumph over French armies, but we have seen also the triumph of the speculative geniuses of Germany, of those who during the last century have given an impetus to German literature, philosophy, and science, and, ipso facto, to " public spirit " ; we have been defeated by Kant and Fichte, by Goethe and Schiller, by Alexander and William von Humboldt, by Gauss and Helmholtz, as well as by Bismarck and Moltke." The nation of trained intellect had shown its superiority in the field. What was brought home to France by the bitter experience of war has been pressed upon English minds by other causes. It has been realised that education can help forward commerce by developing intelligence and by quickening the capacity for assimilating new ideas. Thus among ourselves the cause of education has been much more generally popular during the last generation ; and as recently as 1891 another step forward was taken, when an Act was passed which practically put free education within the reach of every child in the kingdom. But education, even well-sustained religious education, is not sufficient for national well-being unless the great spiritual agencies of the country are inspired with devotion and activity. Signs of this activity are written widely over the reign of Queen Victoria. Everywhere a deeper realisa tion of the claims of the poor and the needs of the masses have been shown. It has been the age which has seen the formation and development in the Church of England of societies whose object has been to increase parochial efficiency. Populations had grown, and clergymen were sometimes ministering single-handed in parishes of 10,000 or 15,000 people. To supply additional clergymen was the work undertaken by the Church Pastoral Aid Society, 478 PUBLIC PROGRESS [1867- founded in 1836, and the Additional Curates Society, 1837. Other kindred societies, diocesan and parochial, have come into existence. The same energy was seen in supplying help in over-burdened dioceses. This was done by forming new sees and by reviving the agency of suffragan bishops. During the reign of Victoria seven new bishoprics have been founded or revived, and suffragan bishops are contributing invaluable service to the Church. The religious zeal which in the beginning of the century was deemed fanaticism has spread into all schools of thought and all classes of society. Men have taken theatres for evangelistic services on Sunday evenings, and bishops have preached in cab-yards and rail way sheds and mills. The Ten Days' Mission, as it is called, has been an accepted method of awakening the slumber ing spiritual consciousness of the multitudes. Against hymns our forefathers had a rooted prejudice. Dr. Johnson, for instance, recorded his own triumph over this prejudice when he wrote of a poor girl whom he saw at Holy Com munion : "I gave her, privately, half-a-crown, though I saw Hart's hymns in her hand." This prejudice, though it lingered as long as 1854, perhaps longer, has wholly vanished, and hymns are heard in every church. The treasury of sacred song has been enriched, and it is probable that the nineteenth century has added to this store more than even the eighteenth century contributed. A changed tone in the character of sermons has appeared. The political sermon and the bitter controversial sermon, once so common, are seldom heard. " The preaching of Christ our Lord as the woof and warp of preaching has now penetrated and possessed it (the Church) on a scale so general that it may be considered as pervading the whole mass." Such was the judgment of Mr. Gladstone on the improved tone of preaching. With the more spiritual tone of preaching there has come a diminution of the antagonism, so much spoken of at one time, between " i897] LITERARY INFLUENCES 479 science and religion. The Church has learned, perhaps, not more science, but more appreciation of the function of science. The number of Churchmen ready to welcome the conclusions of science and to recognise the sacredness of her mission has enormously increased. The publication in 1889 of a book entitled Lux Mundi was a sort of amende honorable paid by its distinguished writers to the fearless lovers of truth whom their fathers had execrated. It was the symptom not only of changed thoughts, but of a better attitude towards advancing knowledge. Not only towards science, but towards arts and letters a humaner tone has of late years prevailed. These avenues of approach to the human soul and mind have been recognised as capable of being channels of wholesome influence, and though at one time in the region of fiction a fashion in favour of degrad ing realism prevailed, yet this bad taste is slowly passing away to the advantage both of morals and of literature. On the whole, the literature of the age has reached a high level in ethics and cultivation. The rough obscenities of other ages have vanished. The best writers of fiction have been filled with a noble reverence for their calling. The poets, with but few exceptions, have taught the people well and nobly. Tennyson, in matchless beauty of form, set before Englishmen ideals of life which spread far and wide among the men of the generation to which he sang, chivalrous conceptions of duty towards home and self, country and the world. Browning taught, besides many other deep lessons, the duty of making the best of life, of doing what can be done, instead of dream ing what might be done were the world a different world. Carlyle, like the Charon of his age, drove men with a savage earnestness to their tasks. Matthew Arnold sang of sweet ness and light. Charles Dickens diffused a kindly spirit of peace and goodwill. Women's voices were lifted up with a force and thoughtfulness unknown before. Mrs. Barrett 480 PUBLIC PROGRESS [1867- Browning, George Eliot, Jean Ingelow, Christina Rossetti, and Mrs. Meynell drew round them listeners of differing tastes and judgments ; and one, Mrs. Somerville, claimed a place among those who take a delight in the laws of nature, and was a valued friend of men eminent in science. The masters of science widened men's thoughts. The doctrine of the conservation of energy and that of evolution covered areas as wide as that claimed by gravitation. New concep tions of the constitution of matter showed how the great and the little alike belonged to one order. The forces which work so mysteriously around us have been found to be possessed of subtle and penetrating power undreamed of. Science has revealed much, and perhaps chiefly the deep significance of commonplace things and the nearness to the heart of all of the great power which breathes in all. The thinkers and the men of science become poets to their age, and Darwin and Lyell, Faraday and Joule, Huxley and Spencer, Wallace and Edison, Roentgen and Marconi open wide the doors of that great temple in which know ledge leads to an ever- deepening reverence. While knowledge was growing, art was working. The love of beautiful things spread far and wide. Growing commerce made men acquainted with the thoughts as well as the products of other lands. A larger spirit breathed through national and Church life, and those who reflected saw in many quarters reasons for a thankfulness which expressed itself with an affection as deep as it was far-reaching when, in 1887, Queen Victoria celebrated the jubilee of her reign. Men then looked back and realised how greatly the empire had grown : 7,000,000 of square miles had been added to its territory, 170,000,000 had been added to its population. The House of Commons expressed its gratitude at a public service at St. Margaret's, Westminster; and on the anniversary of her accession the Queen attended a THE NORMAN CHAPEL IN THE TOWER OF LONDON. From a photograph by J. Valentine and Co., Dundee. To face p. 480. 1897] THE TWO JUBILEES 481 thanksgiving servce in Westminister Abbey. Deeper still, being touched with a profounder pathos, was the thankfulness evoked when, ten years later, the Queen concluded the sixtieth year of her reign. The Diamond Jubilee, as it was called, enabled Englishmen to realise as they never realised before the extent and variety of the empire of which they were members. From all quarters of the world came loyal subjects of the Queen to do her honour. The vast procession which accompanied the sovereign to St. Paul's Cathedral included men of all complexions and almost every race. The country saw before its eyes the evidence of its high calling in the world. If a momentary pride rose in men's hearts it was quickly repressed by the vast responsibilities which this assemblage represented. Affection for the Queen and a grateful realisa tion of the noble patience with which she had borne the weight of empire filled every heart, and the cheers which broke out at the bidding of the Archbishop as the Queen left the steps of St. Paul's grew tremulous with an emotion which almost pleaded for tears in the midst of its joy. 2 1 CHAPTER XL. SOME LAST WORDS : PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE We have now almost completed our task. We have seen how the thin streamlet of Christian faith which owed its outlet to the labours of those unknown teachers General w^0 grs(. tjr0Ugnt Christianity to our shores grew in volume, and spread in all directions till the whole land was refreshed by its waters. We have seen how this spreading Christian faith was checked by opposition and exposed to vicissitudes. We have seen how it was driven with the defeat of the British into narrower limits; we have seen also that the faith which once began to flow was never wholly stayed, but even in the times Faith"06 of greatest weakness opened new channels into neighbouring lands. We have seen how from the west, north, and south fresh energy came, till at length Christianity once more overspread the land, and the con version of England was as complete as the conversion of Britain. We have seen how the administrative genius of Rome stimulated the organisation of the Church, and how early it became a National Church. We have seen how simple and natural the position of the Church was in a time when men hardly thought of distinguishing between Church and State, when the Earl and the Bishop sat side by side, when the interests of social and moral and religious order were equally the care of the great lord and the great prelate. 482 THE PAST INFLUENCES 483 We have seen how, mainly owing to foreign and papal influences, a separation of ecclesiastical and national feeling was fostered at the time of the Conquest, and how troublous times began when the nation's f°reisn „, ... Influence. interests, the Church's interests, and the Pope's interests kept falling into conflict with one another, when sometimes the interests of the Church and nation coincided but conflicted with those of the Pope, how sometimes the Pope and the Sovereign united their interests to the injury of the Church, how seldom a true equipoise was reached when three kinds of interest were being put into rivalry. We have seen how the friendly missionary care of Rome towards England slowly changed into a claim not of mere patriarchal jurisdiction, but of irresponsible authority, and from irresponsible authority into a tyrannous usurpation. We have seen how, when the Reformation came, the inter vention of disturbing foreign interests was, together with this foreign usurped authority, put an end to in these realms. We have seen the struggles in which political and religious freedom were won, and in which the Church of England through many difficulties, and through influences which tended to throw her under the E|^emeSi ascendency of extremes, fought her way to a position in which veneration for the past was not forgotten in the desire for liberty, nor freedom sacrificed at the bidding of what was old but not venerable. We have seen that this happy position was reached not without many dangers and vicissitudes, many conflicts and victories more dangerous than defeats. It is out of these struggles which reflect varieties of political and theological opinion that there has been formed the Church of England as we know her to-day, a Church, not indeed perfect, for nothing which is human or which possesses the power of progress can be perfect, but a Church which has escaped many of the blemishes and defects into which 484 SOME LAST WORDS theorists and extremists might have led her. She has had in her bosom men who have put forward strong and opposing claims and mistaken views, but she has her self turned aside from extravagant clericalism on the one hand and from the cheapening of ministerial order on the other. National character has doubtless exercised an influence in this rhatter, for her clergy have been seldom alienated from the general influences of public life; but her own studied moderation also, arising out of a careful regard for truth and an abiding instinct of the solidarity of human history, has protected her alike from exaggerated pretensions and disorderly methods. She never fell into the error of making her clergy into a caste, eager to deepen and widen the chasm between Church and State. Her ministers were seldom fairly open to the reproach to which Italian priests are so often liable, that good churchmanship is in their view incompatible with good citizenship, for she did not fail to remind her clergy that they were citizens as well as clergymen; and she set aside those superstitions -which furnished pretexts for sacerdotal arrogance. But while the Church of England took up thus a strong position against clericalism she never parted with her Dangers of conception of a well-ordered Church, true to Chaotic apostolic and primitive models, with a duly e lgiomsm. app0inte(] ministry. She recognised, moreover, that the conception of a Church must be wider than that of the single congregation; it must at least be national; in fuller conception it must be much more. Nevertheless, she stood upon the reasonable rights of national Churches to determine their own rites and ceremonies, thus recog nising that though within her own jurisdiction she sought uniformity, yet beyond that jurisdiction in other lands and among differing peoples, wide variety must and ought probably to prevail. She settled, as it were, her own EXTREMES AVOIDED 485 household, its hours, its meals, its observances; from her children she expected a loyal acceptance of and a dutiful obedience to her order; but she left to other Churches the freedom she claimed for herself. She avoided alike the tyranny of clericalism and the Philistinism of sectarianism. Further, she avoided snares into which other Churches have fallen ; she avoided the lust of dogmatism, which has so often proved fatal. She had the wisdom, while clinging closely to those things which Do"meatsis°m had been viewed as indispensable in the purest days of Christianity, to leave many questions undefined. Thus in some controverted matters she eschewed that desire of severe outline which has created difficulties in other communions. On the questions of Predestination and of the Real Presence, of Inspiration and Future Destiny, she was not betrayed into dangerous and fatal dogmatism. She reflected the genius of the race from which she sprang in a distrust of attorney- drawn constitutions. True, she had creeds and articles, and it may be thought that, moved by the dogmatic spirit of the times, she drew her lines too firmly; but compared with other communions she pre served a reverent caution of definition, and Consequent , Comprehen- she reaped the inheritance of being able to siveness. provide a home for good and devout men of divergent schools of thought. She reaped more : she reaped a capacity and an opportunity which is possessed by few other Churches, and which has been recognised by thoughtful men on all sides. " She is most precious," wrote De Maistre, "for, like a capacity. chemical medium, she possesses the power of harmonising natures otherwise incapable of union. On the one hand, she reaches to the Protestant; on the other, to the Roman Catholic." She has gained this 486 SOME LAST WORDS power, for she never lost sight of two great principles sanctioned by Scripture, endorsed by experience, and dear to the English-speaking race. She loved freedom and she reverenced order, and in doing so she set her seal first to the principle that liberty is indispensable for spiritual development, and next to the principle that order is heaven's first law. In the happy combination of these she appropriated two apostolical precepts : " Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free" (Gal. v. i); and again, "All things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient : all things are lawful for me, hut all things edify not" (i Cor. x. 23). In this spirit she has lived and grown, expanding with the ex pansion of the British Empire, and diffusing her spirit with the wide diffusion of the English speech. *lej?ppor" Before her lie opportunities which belong to no other Church in Christendom ; before her open doors which the providence of God seems to have set wide. While, therefore, we feel grateful for the splendid heritage which has been bequeathed to us in the National Church, holding her dear for what she has done and for what she is, let our thoughts turn outwards to the world and forward to the future ; let us look to what duties God is calling us. Before, therefore, we close our survey of English Church history, let us look at the great field of opportunity which is opening before the Christian people of Enterprise7 England. There are Tew Englishmen who have given much attention to the romantic story of English colonial expansion, there are fewer still who know much of the growth of the kingdom of Christ in the world ; and few therefore realise the noble responsibilities which lie upon the English-speaking race. I told you at the beginning of this history something of the greatness of this race; I want you before I close THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING RACE 487 to look with me upon the high duties which belong to this race. One of the most powerful influences on human life is language; the supremacy of language indicates the supremacy of race — it is the tongue of the race gifted with ruling genius which ultimately pre- speech^1'"11 vails. Now what has been the history of the diffusion of the English language? Just a hundred years ago, of the five chief European languages French led the way and English was last. French was spoken by 31,000,000, Russian and German by 30,000,000 each, Spanish by 26,000,000, and English by only 20,000,000. Now English leads the way with it 1,000,000, Russian and German claim 75,000,000, French 51,000,000, and Spanish 42,000,000. In other words, Spanish has in creased by 62 per cent, French by 65 per cent, German and Russian by 150 per cent, and English by 455 per cent. But even more remarkable is what we may call the ruling power of the English-speaking race. The population of the world is, to take a rough estimate, about Thg Rule of 1,450,000,000 — of these 500,000,000 are under the Engiish- the rule or influence of the English-speaking ^^ms race. In the beginning of the seventeenth century the ruling power extended -eeiy over perhaps ? 10,000,000. Thus there has been an increase of 490,000,000, or 5,000 per cent., in the last two hundred years — or going back one hundred years and taking Great Britain alone, the rule which in 1800 reached 150,000,000 now protects 400,000,000 of people. These figures force upon us the greatness of the influence which English-speaking people can exercise over the welfare and destiny of the world. This means duty. How has the duty been fulfilled? Great Britain is responsible for the welfare of more than 400,000,000 of human beings. 488 SOME LAST WORDS Let us look at the story of missionary work. God sent His messengers to our shores many hundred years ago, and the Christian faith spread among our fore- Work.11"7 fathers. Our ancestors passed through many troublous times. Centuries were spent in getting rid of superstitions, in agreeing to tolerate differ ences of Christian thought, in fashioning the form of our national Christianity. During the years in which we were putting our own house in order we had little leisure to think of other countries ; but something was done. There were good men who looked wistfully across the ocean, and wished to send over to other lands the message of God's love which they had learned. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, who sailed the seas in 1578, was filled with "compassion for the poor infidels led captive by the devil." In 1648 the Commons of England assembled in Parliament, having heard that the heathen of New England were beginning to call upon the name of the Lord, felt " bound to assist in the work," and accordingly the charter of the New England Company provided, among other things, that care was to be taken to propagate the gospel. Home persecution sent Christian influences over the Atlantic. The Pilgrim Fathers took their sturdy faith with them to Plymouth, America, in 1620. In 1682 William Penn provided, in the great district which bears his name, a refuge for the persecuted Quakers. In 1694 Dean Prideaux suggested a scheme for the conversion of India. But the incorporation of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (1701) expressed the first distinct and general recognition of missionary duty. The eighteenth century was one of deep and widespread religious revival. Out of this newly-found Missionary v • it Revival. religious life rose a more earnest missionary spirit. Conspicuous among those who were stirred by this spirit was the pure and hero -hearted THE MISSIONARY REVIVAL 489 Henry Martyn, a brilliant scholar, who, having won the blue ribbon of Cambridge University honours, left all his home prospects and set out for India. There he showed the true missionary spirit. He journeyed, he studied, he translated the Scriptures, and at length, in 1812, young in years and worn out with labours, he died among strangers in Persia. His name, perhaps, more than that of any other man of his day, has become strong as an appealing example to others. Charles Simeon, looking at his portrait, would often exclaim, "There he is, and he seems to say, 'Be earnest. Don't trifle.' " But, notwithstanding brilliant examples, missionary enterprise was at first timidly at tempted. As late as 1818 we find Charles Simeon expressing a sort of misgiving about the experiment of holding a missionary meeting in Cambridge; but with the growth of the century and the enormous development of the empire a deep and widespread change of feeling has occurred. This may be measured in many ways. In 1790 there was but one missionary society, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, or, if we reckon the missionary work done by the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, two missionary societies. Before the century closed three or four more had sprung up, and now there are as many as 280 missionary societies maintained by the English-speaking race. The existence of these societies is a token of the living vigour of the missionary spirit. There are some people who will tell you that missionary enterprise is useless and missionary work a failure. This view is generally held by those who have not studied the subject ; and as this is a Mbstora. °f question which touches the deepest interests of the world and the highest duty of our race and Church, we ought to know something about it. It is a duty specially put into the hands of our race, as our race can 490 SOME LAST WORDS most widely influence mankind ; the interests of mankind are promoted by the diffusion of the Christian faith; for "all that we call modern civilisation, in a sense which deserves the name, is the visible expression of the trans forming power of the gospel." Thus missionary work is a duty. Is it a failure? We have seen that whereas in 1790 there were only two christianit societies which could be called missionary and there are now 380. Men do not multiply Population, societies where these have been failures ; the increase of societies might be taken as proof of success. Missionary effort is not a work which accompanies a moribund faith : it is a sign of the exuberant energy of a faith which has greatly increased its force relatively to the growth of the human race during the last hundred years. In 1800 the estimated population of the world was about 1,000,000,000; of these 200,000,000 were Christians. To-day the world-population is 1,450,000,000, of which nearly 500,000,000 are Christians. In other words, the proportion of Christians in the world a hundred years ago was one in five ; now it is one in three. But this relative increase, it will be said, is largely due to the growth of nations already Christian. This is true, but even so it bears witness to the advance of Christian influence in the world. Further, the mission-field affords independent signs of progress. For example, one society alone, the Church Missionary, baptizes daily twenty taught and tested converts. This means the annual increase of more than 7,000, and when the children of native Christians are added, an increase of between 14,000 and 15,000, Or, if we take India alone we have the measure of increase from decade to decade as follows : the number of Christians in 1851 was 91,000; in 1861, 138,000; in 1871, 224,000; in 1881, 417,000. But numbers alone do not measure the force of Christian influence. Perhaps LAMBETH CONFERENCES 491 even more important is the Christian atmosphere which, created in almost every part of the world, has insensibly diffused higher and nobler principles of thought and action among men. In this great work the Church of England has taken her place. During the last fifty years nearly 1,000 natives have been ordained to her ministry, and during the last century the support she has given to missionary work has vastly increased. Whereas in 1800 her voluntary contributions to mission ary work were hardly .£1,000, in 1898 they amounted to ,£750,000. She has spread her organisation far over the growing empire. In the beginning of the century she had only two colonial bishops, Nova Scotia and Quebec ; Growth of now she has ninety-four. We may measure Church this growth of organisation by the numbers 0r^anisation- of bishops who attended the Lambeth Conferences. At the first Conference, held in 1867, there were 76 bishops present; in 1897 there were 194. The significance of this Conference is not to be measured by num- ^al"beth J Conferences. bers, however, but by the fact that it shows the strong and growing bond of brotherly sympathy with churches which are either the direct offspring of, or of near kin to, our own Church. The assembly represented every quarter of the globe, England, Scotland, Ireland, Canada, America (North and South), the West Indies, Australia, New Zealand, Tasmania, India, Africa. From every quarter there came bishops to England as to the ancient home of their Church life, the cradle of the liturgy which they all used and loved ; the ancient keep where the faith of Christ had been preserved free alike from mediaeval superstitions and from modern innovations. They joined together in those services which admirably suit the temper of a race in which rare independence and strong veneration are combined. They conferred 492 SOME LAST WORDS and went back to their work amid all those varying races which own the English-speaking rule, and, through them, the links of blood, of faith, of tongue, and of common worship will grow stronger all the world over. But the advance of the Christian faith is not to be measured by conferences and meetings, by numbers and Diffusion of figures. Its real progress in the world is seen the christian in the change which has passed over the plri ' general temper and spirit of peoples and governments. Matters are not discussed now without some reference to principles. The principles of right and wrong count for something now even in diplomacy. Public opinion can be enlisted in questions which involve moral interests only. In England and America an appeal on the high ground of duty will be listened to in a way which would have been impossible a century ago. Cynics still continue to say that people are governed by their interests alone, but had this been the case the great war in America had never broken out, and England would never have paid the price she did for the emancipation of the slave. The problems of to-day are faced in a higher spirit. The desire to protect the weak against the strong ; and to make the lives of the poor more tolerable and more happy ; to improve their homes ; to mitigate the conditions of labour ; to carry some culture and gladness to their door ; to study industrial questions, not in the light of financial interests, but in the light of general well-being; are all indications that the golden rule of Christ has taken hold of the hearts of Christian peoples. But more, there are thousands on thousands who are living not merely by the law of doing to others as they Multiplied would be done by, but who are living their Agencies. lives in that spirit of self-sacrificing love, which PERSONAL HEROISM 493 is the very life of Christ. Agencies for good are multi plied by the zeal of such devoted men and women. University settlements, Christian associations, Church and Salvation armies, devoting themselves to the social as well as spiritual elevation of the lost and fallen, are some among many such. Individuals living lives of isolation and exile, exposing themselves to hardship, privation, and peril, and often closing their labours with a martyr's death — now Livingstone or Moffat in the heart of Africa ; now Mackay in Uganda; Duff or Leupolt in India; Bishop Smythies at Zanzibar; or Bishop Valpy French at Lahore; Bishop Ridley at Metlakatla; Bishop Bompas at Athabasca; or Bishop Selwyn in New Zealand ; or his son in Melanesia ; or Bishop Patteson in the Pacific ; or Bishop Hannington in East Africa ; these and hundreds more show us that the spirit of Christianity still burns like fire. Another aspect needs to be touched upon. Through long ages of much needful, and much more needless controversy the chaff is being slowly sifted from the wheat, The Age of and men are beginning to trouble themselves Actlon- less about questions which their forefathers hotly disputed. We are able to understand the world better: we see its needs more clearly: we can realise the relative necessity and unimportance of differences which are those of race, climate, and social conditions : we can discriminate between what is transitory and what is abiding, and we are more alive to practical good than to interesting theories. Past ages debated about Christianity : we have to apply it. The work which they did served to clear away from genuine Christianity many of the human theories which had been associated with it. In the period when Greek thought was dominant in Christendom, philosophical theory was studied till truth was almost lost in theory. In the period of Latin ascendency organisation was developed till the purpose of Christianity was almost 494 SOME LAST WORDS lost in the tyranny of organisation. In the period of Teutonic ascendency the individual and his spiritual experiences were discussed till individualism ran the risk 'of destroying the sense of brotherhood. Now Opportunity in the day of Anglo-Saxon ascendency practical and Great problems press upon us : it is left to our race, with its mingled enthusiasm and sobriety of judgment, to deal with these practical problems, and to show how Christianity may be applied to life. We have all the experience of the past to draw upon : we have an unequalled vantage ground of influence : to us is given an opportunity bestowed upon no other race, of showing how the noblest moral and spiritual principles which the world has seen may be made operative for the highest good of human kind. If this is true for the religious bodies of the English-speaking race, it is doubly true for the Church of England, seeing the greatness of her inheritance from the past and in the present. The pressure of great opportunities and great duties should mean clearer vision, and a truer sense of proportion. The history of a Church is written to little purpose unless it shows us that the Church does not exist for herself but for her Master, and her Master's work in the world. She is only greaTas she forgets her greatness : she is onlytruly usefuras she forgets herself in her work. Those honour her most who speak little of her dignity, and much of her duties and her oppor tunities. For churches as well as for individuals it is true that those who lose their lives save them. The Church of England has had a long, varied, and glorious history. She has made mistakes, and in making them she has shown, as all churches have, that, in a sense, she is human ; but in the midst of misfortunes and mistakes she has held up, sometimes with firm and sometimes with faltering hand, a lamp from which has shone a heavenly light. She has often been threatened by the ascendency of one party or THE PRESENT DUTY 49S another, but where she has been freest to speak she has rebuked with eloquent lips "the falsehood of extremes." But glorious as her past has been, she will be truest to her divine mission not by relying on her splendid traditions, but by moving forward in self-forgetting faith to the en larging work of the unexplored future. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE DATE PAGE 314 Council of Aries . . 7 383-410 Roman rule ceases in Britain . .10 450-600 Saxon invasions . 1 1 563 Columba in lona . . 27 597 Coming of Augustine . 15 604 Death of Augustine . 22 616 Mellitusand Justus driven out . . . 23 625 Mission of Paulinus to the North . . 24 633 Battle of Hatfield ; over throw of Paulinus's mission . 25 635 Aidan . . . 29 642 King Oswald's death . 30 664 Conference at Whitby . 35 670?C«dmon . • • 33 668 Archbishop Theodore . 36 669 Wilfrid, Bishop of York 39 673-735 Bede . . . 41 747 Council of Clovesho . 42 787 ,, Chelsea (Three Metropolitans) 47 794 Council of Frankfort ; Alcuin . . . 49 803 Council of Clovesho (Two Metropolitans) 48 827 Egbert . . . 49 870 Martyrdom of King Ed mund . • ¦ S3 871 Alfred, King of Wessex 53 879 Laws of Alfred . .57 925 , Athelstan . 59 942 Archbishop Odo . . 62 DATE 959 Archbishop Dunstan (Seculars and Regulars) IO16 Cnut, King of All Eng land . 1042 Edward the Confessor 1052 Stigand, Archbishop 1066 William and the Con quest . 1070 Lanfranc, Archbishop 1087 William Rufus, King 1093 Anselm, Archbishop 1099 Investiture dispute Council at Rome 1 100 Accession of Henry I, 1 107 Settlement of investi ture dispute . 1 109 Death of Anselm 1 1 15 Papal Legate question 1 126 Archbishop of Canter bury becomes Legati 1 136 Accession of Stephen 1 143 Archbishop Theobald and the forged de cretals 1154 Accession of Henry II, 1 1 6 1 Thomas Becket, Arch bishop 1 164 Constitutions of Clar endon 1 1 70 Murder of Becket 1 199 Accession of Kingjohn 1207 Stephen Langton, Arch bishop 1 208 England under inter dict . , 63 66 68 7072 74 7879 83 8485 86 9091 93 95 9799 103 in112 2 K 497 498 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE DATE PAGE 1213 John cedes his crown to the Pope . .114 1 215 Great Charter signed . 118 1216 Accessionof Henry III. 120 1 2 19 Dominicans reach Eng land . . . 122 1224 Franciscans reach Eng land . . . 122 123 1 The Lewy thiel riots . 124 1235 Robert Grosseteste . 124 1243 Boniface, Archbishop. 126 1259 Murder of Roman Pre bendary of St. Paul's 128 1264 Battle of Lewes . 128 1265 Battle of Evesham . 129 1266 Arrival of Cardinal* Ottobone as Legate 130 1272 Accession of Edward I. 131 1279 Statute of Mortmain . 135 1296 Bull ofBoniface VIII., " Clericis Laicos" . 137 1301 Parliament of Lincoln 137 1307 Statute of Carlisle . 138 1324 John Wycliffe . . 143 1327 Murder of Edward II. 141 1351 First Statute of Pro visors . . . 143 1353 First Statute of Prae munire . . 144 1376 Meeting of the Good Parliament . . 145 1378 Wycliffe in London . 148 1382 The Lollards . .152 1384 Death of Wycliffe . 150 1399 AccessionofHenrylV. 155 1401 Statute de Haeretico Comburendo . -155 1417 SirJohnOldcastleburnt 156 1420 Joan of Arc burnt . 157 1445 Invention of Printing 161 1453 Fall of Constantinople 160 1477 Caxton at Westminster 161 1509 Accessionof Hen. VIII. 164 1527 Divorce proceedings . 166 1529 Fall of Wolsey . . 167 1530 Thomas Cromwell . 167 1 53 1 The Royal Supremacy declared . .169 '533 Cranmer, Archbishop 169 1534 Acts of Supremacy . 169 1546 Martin Luther died . 172 1535 BishopFisherexecuted 179 ,, Sir Thomas More exe cuted . . -179 1536 Suppression of the smaller monasteries 181 ,, The Ten Articles . 183 1537 The Institution of a Christian man . 183 1538 The Bible in the Church 183 1539 The Six Articles . 185 1542 Liturgical Reform . 187 1547 Accession of Edward VI. 189 1549 First Prayer Book . 190 1552 Second Prayer Book . 191 1553 Accession of Queen Mary. . . 194 1554 Humiliation of England 197 1555 The Martyrs: — Rogers burned . 198 Sanders ,, .198 Bp. Hooper burned 198 Rowland Taylor ,, 198 Smithfield . .199 Ridley and Latimer 199 1556 Cranmer . . 201 1558 Accession of Elizabeth 206 1559 The New Prayer Book 214 1559 Acts of Uniformity and supremacy . 215 1559 Parker, Archbishop . 226 1563 The Thirty-nine Articles 224 1572 The Massacre of St. Bartholomew. . 219 1583 Whitgift, Archbishop 229 1587 Mary, Queen of Scots, executed . .221 1588 The Spanish Armada 219 1593 Severe laws against Puritans . . 223 1596 LambethArticlesdrawn up . . . 237 1600 Richard Hooker, Spen ser, Shakespeare 231-233 1603 Accession of King James I. . . 235 1604 Hampton Court Con ference . , 236 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 499 DATE 1604 Lambeth Articles pro posed 1604 New Canons issued . 1605 Gunpowder Plot 1 6 1 1 The Translation of the Bible . 1612 Burning of Legate 1618 Book of Sports for Sunday 1625 Charles I. 1628 Petition of Right 1637 Riots in Scotland 1637 John Hampden . 1640 The Long Parliament 1 64 1 'Execution of Strafford 1643 Solemn League and Covenant Westminster Confession 281 1645 Execution of Arch bishop Laud — Prayer Book prohibited 1645 Self-denying Ordinance 1 649 Execution of Charles I. 1650 Battle of Dunbar 165 1 Battle of Worcester . 1654 The Triers 1655 Prayer Book penalised 1658 Death of Cromwell . 1660 Restoration 1 66 1 The Savoy Conference 1662 Act of Uniformity 1664 First Conventicle Act 1665 Five Mile Act . 1665 The Plague 1670 Second Conventicle Act . . . 1673 The Test Act . 1685 Accession of James II. 1687 Declaration of Indul gence 1687 Ejection of Fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford 1688 Trial of the Seven Bishops 1688 Flight of King James 1689 William and Mary pro claimed 1689 Siege of Londonderry 1689 Toleration Act passed 333 237 1689 The Nonjurors . 329 243 1690 Battle of the Boyne . 329 248 1698 Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge 335 258 1701 Society for the Propa 250 gation of the Gospel 1702 Accession of Queen 335 270 Anne 336 260 1704 Queen Anne's Bounty 345 271 1707 Union with Scotland . 339 273 1709 Sacheverell trial 340 271 1 7 1 1 Occasional Conformity 274 Bill passed 342 t 279 1 7 14 Accession of George I. 346 / 17 15 Jacobite movements . 349 281 17 16 Septennial Act . 35° 281 1 717 Convocation silenced . 1717 Bishop Hoadley (Ban- 351 gorian controversy) 354 282 1719 Repeal of the Schism 284 Acts 35° 286 1720 The South Sea Bubble 35° 287 1 72 1 Sir Robert Walpole's 287 Ministry 350 288 1724 The Deists (Collins, 289 Tindale, etc.) 35° 291 1727 George II. 377 293 1728 William Law . 367 299 1736 Butler's Analogy 356 300 1738 John Wesley, Preacher 369 307 1738 Geo. Whitefield ,, 37i 307 1745 Jacobite Invasion 349 308 1754 Death of Henry Pelhan 1 377 1757 Battle of Plassey 380 307 1759 Capture of Quebec . 378 312 1760 AccessionofGeorgelU • 377 314 1763 Wilkes and Liberty . 1773 Jesuit order abolished 392 320 " for ever " . 427 1773 John Howard . 384 1776 Declaration of Ameri 321 can Independence . 1784 Bishop Seabury con 378 322 secrated 379 327 1788 Slave Trade— Wilber force and Clarkson 386 328 1789 French Revolution . 393 329 1 794 Paley's Evidences . 39i 500 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE PATE 1797 Mutiny of the Fleets PAGE 395 DATE 1848 Chartist Agitation PAGE 441 1799 Church Missionary 1850 Roman Catholic aggre. Society founded 391 sion . 437 1 799 Religious Tract Society 185 1 The Great Exhibition 440 founded 391 1854 Convocation revived . 437 1 801 Union with Ireland , 396 1854 Crimean War . 440 1803 Battle of Assaye 398 1855 The Denison case 464 National Education 1857 The Indian Mutiny . 440 advocated by Lan i860 Essays and Reviews . 454 caster 397 1862 Bishop Colenso's 1804 Bible Society founded 39i book 455 1807 British and Foreign 1867 First Lambeth Confer School Society 397 ence . 447 1812 Henry Martyn died . 489 1867 Fenian movement 473 1814 Order of the Jesuits 1869 Irish Church Dis revived 427 established 474 181 5 Battle of Waterloo . 400 1870 Revised Version com 1820 George IV. 400 menced 439 1824 Lord Byron and Greek 1870 Education Act . 474 Independence 401 1870 Papal Infallibility de 1825 Niebuhr's History clared 445 translated 415 1870 Franco-German War . 476 1829 Roman Catholic 1874 Public Worship Regu Emancipation 426 lation Act 469 1830 William IV. . 425 1878 Second Lambeth Con 1S32 Reform Bill 428 ference 448 1833 Irish Church Reform. 413 1881 Revised Version (New 1833 Slave Trade finally Testament) . 439 abolished 428 1884 Revised Version (Old 1833 Keble and The Tracts Testament) . 439 for the Times 412 -414 1887 Queen's Jubilee 4S0 1836 Charles Simeon 407 1888 Third Lambeth Con 1837 Queen Victoria . 43° ference 491 1 84 1 Secessions to Rome . 422 1897 Fourth Lambeth Con 1846 Repeal of the Corn ference 491 Laws . 441 1897 Queen's Diamond 1847 The Ten Hours Bill . 430 Jubilee 481 1847 The Gorham case 434 INDEX Abbot, Archbishop, 251. Abingdon Abbey, 40. Absolution, 130. Absolutism, 254, 264. Abuses, Growth of, 213. Addison, 342. Additional Curates Society, The, 478. Adelfius, Bishop of Caerleon, 7. Adrian, declines the See of Can terbury, 37. JEUric, on the Communion, 149 ; elected by the monks to the See of Canterbury, 69. /Elphege, St., 77. j-Ethelbert, King, 15 ; visits the Roman missionaries, 17 ; accepts Christianity, 18, 29 ; death of, 23- ^Ethelburga, Queen, 24. ^Ethelfrith, or iEdelfrid, King, 22. /Ethelheard, Archbishop of Can terbury, 55. iEthelwulf, King, gains a victory over the Danes, 55. Age of Reason, The, 390. Agilbert, Bishop of the West Saxons, 34. Agincourt, 156. Aidan, 29. Alban, The story of, 8. Alchfrid, Prince, 34. Alcuin, 49. Aldhelm, Abbot of Malmesbury, 40. Alexander III., Pope, 100, 106. Alexander VI., Pope, 159. Alfred, King, 53 ; his victories and laws, 56; educational work, 57, 58. America, Christian work in, 378 et seq. Anabaptists, The, 179, 228. Analogy of Religion, The, 353, 356. Anderson, Judge, 229. Andrew the Monk, declines the See of Canterbury, 37. Andrewes, Bishop, 251, 256. Anglo-Catholic School, The, 421. Anglo - Saxon ascendency, The day of, 494; Anglo-Saxon race, The character of the, 2. Anglo-Saxons, The, 11. Anne Boleyn, 166, 169. Anne, Princess, afterwards Queen, 327, 336; death of, 344; her "Bounty," 345. Anselm, 79, 83 ; his disputes with the King, 80, 84 ; supports Pope Urban, 8i ; refuses homage to the King, 84 ; his conference with the King, 85 ; influence and death, 86 ; policy of, 87. Anselm, the papal legate, 88. Anthropology, The study of, 456 Anti-papal Movement, The, 165. Apology for Christianity, The, 39°- Aquinas, Thomas, 134. Archbishoprics, Three, 48. Arches, The Dean of, 454. Arc, Joan of, 157. 501 502 INDEX Argyle, Invasion of, 319. Arian Controversy, The, 353. Aries, Council at, 7. Armada, The, .219. Armenians, The, 269, 372. Arnold, Thomas, 411, 415, 416, 427, 431, 45o, 45 1- Articles of Religion, The, 216, Art, The advance of, 160. Arundel, Archbishop, 154, 155. Astronomy, Progress of, 161. Athelstan, King, 58. Atterbury, Bishop, 334, 349. Augustine, 15 ; lands at Ebbs- fleet, 17 ; goes to Canterbury, 1 7 ; consecrated Bishop at Aries, 18 ; connection with the British Church, 20; receives thepallium, 20 ; death of, 22 ; success of his missionaries, 22. Auricular Confession, 38, 185. Avignon, The Pope at, 144, 145. Aviragus, King, 8. B "Balder the Bright," The story of, 15. Baldwin, nominated Archbishop of Canterbury by the Bishops, no. Bancroft, Archbishop, 243. Bangor, The use of, 190. Bangor Monks, The, 21, 22. Bangorian Controversy, The, 354. Banks, Sir Joseph, 360. Bannockburn, 141. Baptismal regeneration, 434, 436. Barbados, The bishopric of, 398. Barlow, Bishop of Bath and Wells, 226. Barons, The, excommunicated by Innocent III., 118; papal ex actions from, 123; and the Clergy, 117, 118. Barrow, Isaac, 305. Bastwick, John, 273. Battle Abbey, 107. Baxter, Richard, 301, 303, 308, 335, 362. Becket, Thomas, 94 ; strengthens the Crown, 96 ; made Arch bishop of Canterbury, 97 ; his change of policy, 97 ; his con secration, 98 ; throws over the King, 98 ; refuses to accept the Constitutions of Clarendon, 100 ; escapes to the Continent, 100 ; reconciled with the King and returns to England, 101 ; ex communicates his foes, 102 ; his murder, 102, 103. _Bede, The Venerable, 41. Bedell, Bishop, 277, 397. Benedict Biscop, 40. Benedictine Monks, The, 317. Bennett Case, The, 464 et seq. Bentham, Jeremy, 400. Bentley, Dr., 449. Beornhelm, Bishop, 63. Berkeley, George, 353, 367, 379, 397-. Bernicia, The kingdom of, 14. Berridge, John, 388, 407. Bertha, Queen, 15. Beveridge, William, 344. Beza, The leader of the Calvinists, 225. Bible, The first printed, 161 ; Wycliffe's translation of, 170, 256 ; Cranmer's, 183, 257 ; The Authorised Version of, 256, 258 ; Coverdale's, 257 ; becomes the people's literature, 257 ; Revised Version of, 439. Bible Society, The, 391. Bill of Remonstrance, The, 280. Bingham, 344. Birinus, The missionary, 32. Birmingham Party, The, 475. Bishoprics, Arrangement of first, 20 ; vacancies amongst, 58 ; re served by the Pope, 140; found ing of new, 182, 478. Bishops, The, asked to take the oath of Supremacy, 218; deprivation of, 225 ; in James's reign, 251 ; impeachment of, 280 ; restored to the House of Lords, 299 ; their declaration on ritualism, 467. INDEX 503 Black Death, The, 144. "Black Friday," 349. Bohemians, The, 368. Bbhler, Peter, 369. Bolingbroke, St. John, Lord, 341, 349, 37T- Bcmpas, Bishop, 493. Bonaventura, 134. Boniface of Savoy, Archbishop of Canterbury, 126. Boniface, the monk, 42. Boniface VIII., 45, 136. Boniface IX., 159. Bonner, Bishop, restored to the See of London, 195 ; reproved by the Queen, 198. Boyle, Hon. Charles, 449. Boyne, Battle of the, 329. Bradley's Sermons, 411. Breda, The Declaration of, 294. Brewster, 452, 453. Bridewell, 194. Britain, Invasions of, n. British Association, 452. British and Foreign School Society, The, 397. British Church, Troubles of the, 10; energy of, 12. British missionaries, 14. British races, Struggle of the, 9, 11. Brixworth, Remains of British Church at, 8. Broad Church Party, The, 404, 4i5, 435, 460. Brownists, The, 223, 231. Bruce, 141. Bucer, The reformer, 190. Buckingham, The Duke of, his influence with Charles I., 262. Buckland, Dean, 453. Bull, George, 305, 344. Bull of Deposition, The, 221. Bull of 1850, The, 438. Bullinger, Heinrich, 225. Burne, Thomas, 359. Burnet, Bishop, 337. Burnings, The, 178, 209; under Queen Mary, 197 et seq. ; the number of, 204 ; under Eliza beth, 228. Burton, R., 273. Bury St. Edmunds, 53. Butler, Joseph, 352, 356, 357. Byrom, John, 375. Byron, Lord, 400, 401. Cadwallon, King, 25 ; fights Oswald at Hexham, 29. Csedmon, 33. Caerleon, British Church at, 8. Calcutta, The Bishopric of, 398. Calne, Conference at, 63. Calvinists, The, 269, 372. Cambridge Mission, The, 432. Cambridge School, The, 309. Campbell, Sir Colin, 441. Canons of the Church, The, 242, 246. Canterbury, British Church at, 8 ; Roman missions at, 17 ; St. Martin's Church at, 17; pro vince of, placed under interdict, 54 ; Archbishop of, given the primacy, 74; rivalry with York, 86, 88, 106. Canterbury Monks, The, 109, 134; their claim to the right of nomi nating the archbishop, 110,111; expelled by John, 112. Cape Town, The Bishop of, 456. Carlisle, The Statute of, 138. Caroline Fathers, The, 421. Cartwright, Thomas, 231. Catholicism, Liberal, 443. Caxton, 161. Cecil, Sir William, 214. Cedd, Bishop of the East Saxons, 34- Cedda, The missionary, 32. Celibacy of the clergy, 62. Celtic and British influences, 33. Charles I. , King, 260 ; the difficul ties of his time, 261 ; his struggle with the Parliament, 263, 271, 274; his execution, 286. Charles II. , King, 294; distrust of, 311; his intrigues, 312; death, 313. 504 INDEX Chastity, Vows of, 185. Charles X., 451. Charlemagne, 46, 49. Chaucer, 143, 146. Chelsea, Council of, 47. Cheshunt College, 372. Chester, British church at, 8. Chesterfield, Lord, 371. Christian influences, Decline of, 23 ; two streams of, 51. Christianity, legends as to how it came to Britain, 7 ; restoration of, to Northumbria, 27 ; growth of, under King Oswy, 36. "Christianity as old as the Creation," 355. Christian Year, The, 413, 420. Christians, Persecutions of the, 8. Christ's Hospital, 194. Church, The, in the age of Theodore and Wilfrid, 41 ; Romanising of, 40, 140; weak ening of its independence, 68 ; foreign and national parties in, 68 ; under Norman influences, 71 ; improved organisation of, 74, 76 ; its conflicts with the State, 78 et seq. ; the worldli ness of, 92 ; gains power against the Crown, 93, 95 ; decline of spiritual powerin, 95 ; corruption of, 121 ; united with the nation, 127 ; impoverishment of, 129 ; popular feeling against, 145 ; nationality of, 163 ; asserts its independence, 189; growth of abuses in, 213 ; difficulties of, 230 ; in James I.'s day, 252 ; state of, during the latter end of the seventeenth century, 305; Protestantism of, 318 ; historic comprehensiveness of, 401 ; growth of, 482, 486, 491 ; its conception of its duties, 484 ; comprehensiveness of, 485 ; missionary enterprise of, 486. Church and State, 240. Church building, 73, 399. Church politics, 404. Crmrch reform, 399. Church societies, 230. Church Pastoral Aid Society, The, 477- Church Missionary Society, The, .391, 490. Cistercian monasteries, 107. Civil and Ecclesiastical authority, Conflict between, 75. Civil War, The, 280. Clapham Sect, The, 389, 398. Clapton Sect, The, 397, 398. Clarendon, Constitutions of, 99, 104. Clarke, Dr. Samuel, 355. Clarkson, 383, 386, 387. Clement XVI., 427. Clergy, Immunity of, from secular power, 98, 99 ; penalties im posed on, 129; neglect of duties by, 158; corruption of, 158; forbidden to marry, 185 ; de prived of their benefices, 197, 243 ; social status of, 345. "Clericis Laicos," The Bull, 137. Clive, Robert, 380. Clotworthy, Sir John, 282. Clovesho, The first Council of, 42 ; the second, 48. Cnut, King, encourages religion, 66 ; troubles after his death, 67. Coke, John, 298. Coke, Sir Edward, 245, 268. Coienso, Bishop of Natal, 455, 456. Coleridge, The influence of, 464. Colet, Dean, 171. Collins, Anthony, 355, 356. Colman, Bishop of Lindisfarne, 34. Colonial empire, 377. Columba, The mission of, 23, 27 ; death of, 28. Common Prayer, Different forms of, 190. Commons, Policy of the, 310. Communion, Right of the laity to, 129 ; in both kinds, 185. Comprehension, The question of, 331- Compton, Bishop of London, 316 3i8, 319- INDEX 505 Confession, 129, 130. Conformity, insisted on, 250. Conservatism, The current of, 442, 443- Consort, H.R.H. Prince, 440. Constance, The Council of, 151. Constantine, 7. Constantinople, The fall of, 160. Constantius, supports Christianity, 7- Controversy, The fierceness of, 171, 178, 185, 231. Conventicle Acts, The, 307. Convention Parliament, The, 293. Convocation, 332 ; and the head of the Church, 169 ; votes the King's marriage illegal, 169 ; takes in hand the reform of the service books, 187 ; does not sanction the Communion office in the First Prayer Book, 192 ; silenced by Queen Mary, 195 ; meets in order to consider the Articles of Religion, 215, 216; its power of making canons, 242 ; revises the Prayer Book, 300 ; controversies in, 333, 336 ; politics of, 351 ; revival of, 437 ; protests against papal oppres sion , 438 ; pronounces against Essays and Reviews, 455. Corporation Act, The, repeal of, 426. Corruption, Spread of, 67. Cosin, John, 240. Coster, 161. Cowell, Dr., 245, 246. Cowper, William, 375, 389. Covenant, The, 274-76, 280, 281, 287 ; burned, 299. Courtenay, Archbishop, 152. Coverdale, Bishop of Exeter, 226. Cranmer, Thomas, 178, 185, 199; advises Henry VIII. to appeal to the Universities, 168 ; pro- noun ces sen tence of divorce, 169; his Bible, 183 ; his influence, 1 86, 187; hisrecantation,20i ; abjures his recantation and is burnt, 203; his character and work, 203, 204. Crecy, 144. Credence Table, The, 469. "Creeping to the Cross," The, 187. Cricklade, Conference at, 21. Crimean War, The, 440. Criticism, Distrust of, 417. Cromwell, Oliver, 284, 285 ; his victories, 287 ; death of, 291. Cromwell, Thomas, 185; becomes adviser of the Crown, 167 ; advises Henry to disavow the Pope's authority, 168 ; insists on the Act of Supremacy, 179. Crown, Power of the, 162, 245. D Danes, Invasions of the, 52, 65. Darwin, Charles, 456. David or Dewi, Bishop of St. David's, 12. David, King of Scotland, 92. "Declaration of Sports," The, 270. Decretum or Decretals, The, 93, 94, 107, 108. De Heretico Comburendo, The Statute of, 155. De Imitatione Christi, The, 173, Deira, The kingdom of, 14. Deists, The, 355, 356. Democracy, The age of, 366. Denison, Archdeacon, 464, 465. De Tracy, 103. Devotional meetings, 363. Devotions, The, of Bishop An drewes, 256. Diarmid, King, 28. Digby, 278. Diocletian, Persecutions of, 8. Directory, The, 281. Disraeli, Benjamin, 469. Dissenters, 312, 320; disadvan tages of, 337, 382 ; thrown into the ranks of the Whigs, 343. Divine and Moral Songs, Watts', 376- Divine right, The doctrine of, 313, 314, 342, 354- 5o6 INDEX Doddridge, Philip, 375, 383. Dbllinger, Dr., 447. Dominican Friars, The, 122, 134. Donne, Dr., 251. Dover, Remains of British church at, 8. Dubricius, Bishop of Llandaff, 12. Duff, Alexander, 493. Dunstan, 6 1 ; his views concern ing the clergy, 62, 63 ; banish ment of, 63; made Archbishop of Canterbury, 63 ; secures good laws for the Church, 64. Eadbald, King, 23. Eadsidge, Archbishop, 69. Eanfleda, Queen, 33. East Anglia, The kingdom of, 14, 15; end of, 53. Easter, British and Roman observ ance of, 32-35, 37. Ebbsfleet. See Richborough. Eborius, Bishop of York, 7. Ecclesiastical cases, The trial of, 469-. Ecclesiastical Commission, An, 229. Ecclesiastical Courts, The, 244, 253,^ 470; state of, 305. Ecclesiastical Tyranny, 129. Edgar, King, 63 ; his opposition to the marriage of the clergy, 63- Edmund Ironsides, 66. Edmund, King and Martyr, 53. Education, 397, 474, 475. Education Bill, The, 474. Edward I., The epoch of, 131. Edward II. , The reign of, 138; increase of papal claims during, 139; he loses -power, 140; murder of, 141. Edward, King, 58. Edward the Confessor, 67, 68. Edward III., 145. Edward IV., 162. Edwin, King of Northumbria, 24 ; baptised at York, 25. Edwy, King, 62, 63. Edward VI., Death of, 194. Egbert, Bishop of York, 47. Egbert, King of Wessex, 49, 50. Egfrid, King of Northumbria, 38, 39- Eichhorn, 450. Eleanor of Aquitaine, 96. Election Controversy, The, 372. Elgiva, Queen, 63. Eliot, John, 335, 378. Eliot, Sir John, 263. Elizabeth, Accession of, 206 ; entry into London, 207 ; her influence, 215 ; excommuni cated, 219 ; her views on dis cipline, 224, 226 ; her reign, 232-34- Emma, Queen, 68. " Engagement," The, 287. England, The divisions of, 14 ; state of, at the accession of Queen Elizabeth, 208. English bishops and the Norman Conquest, 72, 73. Erasmus, 171. Erastianism, 417. Erskine, Thomas, 464. Episcopacy, Distrust of, 228 ; disputes about, 239 ; petition for the abolition of, 274 ; con troversy upon the, 278. Episcopalians, The, 287 ; thrown into the hands of the Royalists, 276 ; violence of the Scots against, 328. Essays and Reviews, 454, 455, 460. Essex, The kingdom of, 1 5. Ethandune, Battle of, 56. Etheldreda, Queen, induced to take the veil, 38. Eton Mission, The, 432. Eucharistic teaching, 460 et seq. Eugenius, Pope, 93. Europe, English influence in, 48. Eusebius, 7. Evangelical School, The, 382, 3'88, 403, 407-10, 4T7, 425, 43', 434, 436. INDEX 507 Evesham, British Church at, 8; battle at, 129. Evidences of Christianity, The, 391- Exclusion Bill, The, 313. Falkland, 278. Faraday, Michael, 452, 453. Farmer, Anthony, 321. Fast days, The observance of, 41- Felix of Burgundy, 32. Fenian Society, The, 473. Feudal anarchy, 91. Finnian, His dispute with Co lumba, 28. First fruits, 169, 345. Fisher, Bishop, 179. Fitz Urse, 103. Five members, The arrest of, 280. Five Mile Act, The, 307, 308. Fletcher, 371, 383, 388. Foreign bishops, 68 ; popular dis like of, 69; their servility to Rome, 69. Foreign influence, Jealousy of, 49, 105; strength of, 69; repudia tion of, by Henry VIII., 165. Forster, W. E., 474. Forty -two Articles, The, 193; reduced in number, 216. Fountains Abbey, The Abbots of, 182. Foxe, John, 228. Franciscan Friars, The, 122, 125, 134, 159. Franco-German War, The effect of, 476, 477- Frankfort, Council at, 49. Franklin, Benjamin, 353, 360. French Revolution, The, 393 ; the second, 451. French Wars, The, 156, 395. French, Bishop Valpy, 493. Friars, The, 121, 122. Fryth, burned, 178. Fursey, The missionary, 32. Galloway, The Picts of, 23. Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, 187. Garnet, The Jesuit, 249. Gartan, 28. Gauden, Dr., 289. Geddes, Jeannie, 273. Geneva Bible, The, 257. Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, 115. Geography, Progress of, 161. Geology, Progress of, 452. German Scholarship, 450, 451. Gibbon, Edward, 390. Gibson, Bishop, 379. Gildas, the Welsh Monk, 12. Gladstone, W. E., 438, 473. Glastonbury, 40, 77; church and holy thorn of, 8; monastery of, 61. Godwin, Earl, supports the national party in the Church, 68; ban ished, 69 ; returns with Harold, 69. Good, John Mason, 375. Good Parliament, The, 145. Goodman, Bishop, 265. Gorham Case, The, 434, 435. Grammar schools, 194. Gravelines, Massacre at, 153. Gregorian Chants, 77. Gregory the Great, 16, 44; wise counsels of, 18; sends mission aries to Britain, 20. Gregory VII., 45. Gregory X., 134. Gregory XVI., 427. Grey Friars, The, 122. Grey, Lady Jane, 194. Grimshaw, Vicar of Haworth, 370. Grindale, Archbishop of Canter bury, 227, 228, 240. Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln. 116, 121, 124, 125; death of, 126. Grote, George, 45 1. Guest, Dr., 214. 508 INDEX Gunpowder Plot, The, 248. Gutenberg, 161. Guthrun baptised, 56. H Hadrian, Pope, 48. Hall, Bishop, 278. Hammond, Dr., 290. Hampden, John, 271. Hampden Controversy, The, 433. Hampton Court Conference, The, 236. Hare, Augustus, 416. Hare, Julius, 415, 416, 450. Hannington, Bishop, 493. Harold, King, 69, 71 ; supports the national party in the Church, 68. Hart, Joseph, 375. Harthacnut, Death of, 67. Harvey, 383. Hastings, Warren, 381. Hatfield Chase, Defeat of Edwin at, 25. Havelock, 440. Henry of Bolingbroke, 154. Henry I , Accession of, 84 ; re calls Anselm, 84 ; claims the right of appointing and invest ing bishops, 84. Henry, Bishop of Winchester, 92. Henry II., 96; does penance, 104. Henry, Prince, afterwards Henry III., appeals to Rome against the choice of Richard as Arch bishop of Canterbury, 1 10 ; his accession to the throne, 120 ; foreign proclivities of, 123. Henry IV., Accession of, 155. Henry VII., 162. Henry VIII., Weaknesses of, 164 ; his assertion of the Royal Supremacy, 165, 168 ; falls in love with Anne Boleyn, 166 ; throws off the yoke of Rome, 168, 169; marries Anne Boleyn, 169; his book, 176; the title ' ' Defender of the Faith " con ferred on him, 1 76. Heptarchy, The, id, 15. Hereford, The Bishop of, 127, 128. Hermann, The Consultation of Archbishop, 190. Herrnhut, 369. Hertford, The canons of, 37. Hexham, Battle at, 29 ; church at, 38. Higbert, Bishop of Lichfield, 48. High Church Party, The, 337, 343, 363, 404, 435, 436, 454. 460. High Commission Court, The 244, 319, 321, 322. Hilda, grand-niece of King Edwin, Abbey founded by, 33. Histories of Greece, Thirlwall's and Grote's, 451. History of the Decline and Fall Gibbon's, 390. , History of Rome, Arnold's, 451. History of the Jews, Milman's, 45'- Histriomastix, Prynne's, 270. Hoadley, Benjamin, 354. Hodgkins, Bishop Suffragan of Bedford, 226. Holy Communion, Administration of, 193; 460 etseq.; receipt of, 337, 343- Holy Living and Dying, Jeremy Taylor's, 363, 364. Homage, 84, 85. Hooker, Richard, 231, 240; his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, 232. Hooper, Bishop, 198, 402. Hora Paulina, Paley's, 391. Home, Bishop, 360. Hough, Dr., 321. Howard, John, 383 ; visits the gaols of England, 384. Hubert, Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury, no. Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, 114, 115. Hugh, Cardinal, 106. Hughes, Tom, 432. Hume, David," 358. INDEX 509 Huntingdon, Lady, 371, 372. Huss, John, 368. Hutchinson, Professor, 360. Hyde, Edward, 271. Hyde, Lord Chancellor, 294, Hymn Writers, 375, 376. Hymns, The prejudice against, Images, The worship of, 49; abolition of, 187. Immaculate Conception, The dogma of, 445, 447. Incense, The ceremonial use of, 471. Independents, The, 223, 283, 284. India, The struggle in, 380 ; first missionary work in, 381 ; the mutiny in, 440. Indulgence, The Declaration of, 312, 320, 322. Industry and Economics, 392. Infallibility of the Pope, The, 445, 446. Inglis, Dr., Bishop of Nova Scotia, 379- Injunctions as to the use of the Prayer Book, The, 191. Innocent III., Pope, 45, no, in, 118, 119, 129. Institution of a Christian Man, The, 183, 186. Intellectualists, The, 210. Interdict, An, 54 ; against John, 112 ; removed, 117. Intrigue, 139. Investiture, 82, 84. lona, The monastery of, 61. Ireland, Missionary work in, 12 ; missionaries from, 27 ; a re bellion in, 276; the union with, 396 ; the Church in, 396. Irish Church, The disestablish ment of, 474 ; conflict about, 472 et seq. Irish Church Bill, The, 413. Isabella, Queen, 141. Italy, 442. J Jacobites, The, 328, 344, 349, 35°, 35 '¦ Jamaica, The Bishopric of, 398. James I., 235, 236 ; plots against, 247 ; the Church in his day, 252 et seq. James II., The party for, 314; impolicy of, 315 ; sets aside the Test Act, 316 ; his attempt to Romanise, 316 ; resistance of the Church to, 317; efforts of to silence the clergy, 318 ; his policy in Scotland and Ireland, 319 ; at Bath and Oxford, 321 ; loss of his cause, 325 ; flight of, 327- Jarro w monastery, 41. Jerome, 452. Jervaulx abbey, The abbots of, 182. Jesuits, The, 221, 247, 249, 427, 444, 445, 446. Jewel, John, 240. John, King, in; his struggle with the Pope, 112 et seq. ; excom municated, 113; surrenders to the Pope, 114, 117 ; submits to the barons, 116. John de Gray, III. John of Gaunt, 147. John, Cardinal of Crema, 89. John of Salisbury, 101. John XXIII., Pope, 159. Johnson, Dr., and hymns, 478. Jones, Chief Justice, 316. Jones, of Nayland, Dr., 360. Joseph of Arimatha;a, 7. Jowett, Professor, 455, Judges and the bishops, The, 244. Justus, The missionary, 20, 23 ; appointed Bishop of Hrof or Rochester, 22. Jutes, The, 14, 15. Juxon, Archbishop, 294. K Katherine of Aragon, Henry's desire to divorce, 166. Keble, John, 412, 419, 453. 5io INDEX Kelly, Thomas, 375. Ken, Bishop, 305, 321, 330; his hymn, 374. Kent, The kingdom of, 15 ; con version of, 17 ; influence of, 51. Kentigern, the apostle of Strath clyde, 22. Kidder, Bishop, 330. Kilwardby, Archbishop of Canter bury, '33, '34- Kingly power, Exaggerated theo ries of, 240. King's Evil, The, 321, 360. Kingsley, Charles, 431, 432, Knox, John, 225. La Hogue, Battle of, 329. Lambeth, Church at, pulled down, no. Lambeth Articles, The, 237. Lambeth Conferences, The, 447, 448, 49 1 • Lancaster, the Quaker school master, 397. Lanfranc, 77 ; appointed Arch bishop of Canterbury, 74. Langton, Stephen, Archbishop of Canterbury, 112, 117; refuses to publish the excommunication v. the English Barpns, 118. Lateran Council, The Fourth, 129. Latimer, Bishop of Worcester, 171, 177, 199 ; his plea for the instruction of the people, 183 ; in exile, 186; burnt, 200. Latin ascendency, The period of, 493- Latitudinarians, The, 309, 348. Laurentius, 23 ; consecrated to the See of Canterbury, 22. Laud, Bishop of Bath and Wells, 263 ; made Bishop of London, 265 ; primate, 265 ; his charac ter, 266 ; his harshness, 267 ; his policy, 268, 272, 273, 275 ; sent to the Tower, 279 ; his execution, 282. Law, William, 354, 367, 369. Lawrence, 440. Laymen, The House of, 439. Legate, Bartholomew, 250. Leighton, Robert, 240, 306. Leland, 358. Lenthall, Speaker, 280. Leo, Pope, 48. Lessons, The Table of, 439. Leupolt, 493. Lewes, Battle of, 128. " Lewythiel," The, 124. Liberal Clergy, The, 431, 432. Liberalism, The current of, 442, 443, 444, 445, 447, 449, 455- Lichfield, an Archbishopric, 48. Life, Walk, andTritwiph of Faith, Romaine's, 388. Lights, The ceremonial use of, 471. Lightfoot, John, 303. Lincoln, The use of, 190. Lincoln Declaration, The, 137. Lincoln, Battle at, 120. Lindisfarne, 29, 47. Literature, 479. Liturgical reform, 187. Liturgical services, 303. Livingstone, 493. Lollards, The, 152-154; perse cution of, 155 ; revolt of, 156. Londonderry, Siege of, 329. Longley, Bishop, 425. Louis XIV., 326, 338. Louis XVI., 348. Lowth, Bishop, 360, 375. Low Church Party, The, 363, 436, 454, 460. Ludlow, J. M., 432. Lushington, Dr., 465. Luther, Martin, 171 ; his work, 172; his precursors, 173; his spiritual conflict, 174; his con troversies, 175 ; his influence in England, 176. Lux Mundi, 479. Lyell, Sir Charles, 452. Lyfing, Bishop of Worcester, 67. Lyminge, Remains of British Church at, 8, INDEX 5" M Mackay, Alexander, 493. Magdalen College, Oxford, 321, 322. Magee, Bishop of Peterborough, 474- Magna Charta, 118, 120. Mainwaring, Dr. , 264. Malmesbury, Turold,Abbotof,77. Malmesbury, William of, 8. Manfred, King of Sicily, 126. Martyn, Henry, 489. Mary, Queen, Accession of, 194 ; her declaration, 195 ; her policy, 196 ; submits to Rome, 196 ; marriage, 196 ; urges persecu tion, 199; her cruelty provokes reaction, 204 ; her death, 205 ; her severities, 223. Mary, Queen of Scots, 209, 218, 221. Massey, John, 317. .Matilda, 89, 90, 92. Matthew's Bible, 257. Matthew Paris, the Chronicler, 118. Maurice, Frederick Denison, 431, 432, 464. Medici, Catherine de, 219. Melancthon, the Reformer, 190. Mellitus, the Missionary, 20; appointed Bishop of London, 22; driven from London, 23. Mendicant Friars, The, 146. Mercia, The kingdom of, 14, 15, 48, 49, 50; influence of, 51; pays tribute to the Danes, 53, Methodists, 353. Methodius,Archbishop of Moravia, 368. Middleton, Bishop of Calcutta, 398, Military rule, Era of, 290. Milman, Dean, 451. Milners, The, 389, 407. Missionary work in Britain, 12, 32 ; outburst of, 388 ; revival of, 39'- Moffat, Robert, 493. Monk, General, 293. Monmouth's Rebellion, 319. Monasteries, The : - the state of, 42, 60, 61, 159; destruction of, 61 ; their exemption from Episcopal control, 106, 107 ; they favour development of the papal power, 107; suppression of, 180 et seq. Montague, Bishop of Chichester, 265, 402. Morals, The state of, 42. Moravians, The, 367, 368. More, Hannah, 385, 389. More, Henry, 305, 310. More, Sir Thomas, 171, 178, 179. Mountain, Dr., first Bishop of Quebec, 379. Mortmain, Statute of, 135, 143. Mystics, The, 173. N " Nag's Head Fable," The, 226. National feeling, Revival of, 69, 132, 400, 401, 480; loss of, 76. National Society, The, 397. Natural Theology, Paley 's, 391. Neander, 450. Nelson, Robert, 363. Newman, John Henry, 412, 414, 418, 419; his influence at Ox ford, 408 ; his secession to Rome, 422. New Learning, The, 170, 171. Newton, John, 388, 407. New York, Consecration of the Bishop of, 379. Nicjea, Second Council of, 49. Nicene Creed, The, 47. Nicholas of Basle, 174. Nicholson, 440. Niebuhr's History of Rome, 415, 416, 450. Nightingale, Florence, 440. Ninian, 14, 27. Nonconformists, The, 320, 475, 476; measures against, 225, 227, 307. S»2 INDEX Nonjurors, The, 329, 330. Norman Bishops, 68, 70, 72. Norman influences, The Church under, 71 et seq. Norris, Mr., 398. Northallerton, Battle at, 92. Northampton, Conference at, 136, Northumbria, The kingdom of, 14, 15, 27, 47, 50; influence of, 51 ; subject to the Danes, 53. Nova Scotia, The first Bishop of, 379- Nunneries, The state of, 42. Nuremberg, 161. O Oates, Titus, 312. " Occasional Conformity," The practice of, 337, 342. "Occasional Conformity" Act, The, repeal of, 350. Odo, Archbishop of Canterbury, 62. Odo, Prior of Christ Church, Canterbury, 109. Offa, King of Mercia, 47-49. Old Catholics, The, 448. Oldcastle, Sir John, 156. Orange, William of, invited to England, 326 ; arrival of, 327 ; proclaimed King, 328 ; large views of, 333 ; policy of, 338. Ordination, A form of, 191. Origen, 7. Orlton, Bishop of Hereford, 140. Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury, 74- Oswald, King, 29. Oswy, King, 33, 34 ; growth of Christianity under, 36. Ottobone, Cardinal, 129, 130. Outram, 440. Oxford Movement, The, 399, 407 et seq., 433. _ Oxford, Council of, 120. Oxford, Harley, Earl of, 341, 342. Oxford House, The, 432. Paine, Thomas, 390. Paley, William, 390, 391. Pallium, The, 20 ; sent by the Pope to Wulfred, 55 ; seized by Stigand, 70. Pandulf, The mission of, 113. Papal aggression, 90, no, 139, 437,443; national resistance to, 142 et seq. Papal authority, 143 ; revival of, in England, 104, 105. Papal exactions, 123, 124, 129. Papal infallibility, 445, 446. Papal influence, 133, 143. Papal legates, 87 et seq., 129. Papal letters, 102. Papal States, The, 442. Papists, Measures against the, 220, 222. Parishes and the suppression of the monasteries, 182 ; state of, 3°5> 344- Parker, Archbishop, 218, 240; consecration of, 226 ; death of, 227. Parker, Bishop of Oxford, 321. Parliament, coerced by Queen Mary, 195 ; under James I., 246 ; overthrow of, 285. Passive obedience, The theory of, 3"- Patriarchs, The, 43. Patrick, Bishop, 310, 375. Patteson, Bishop, 493. Paulinus, The missionary, 20, 23, 24 ; overthrow of his work, 25. Payments or fines, The system of, 65- Pearson, J., 305. Peckham, Archbishop of Canter bury, 133, 135. Pecock, Bishop of Chichester, 158. Pennsylvania, Consecration of the Bishop of, 379. People, The Cause of the, 392. Penda, King of Mercia, 25. Penn, William, 488. Perronet, Edward, 375. INDEX 513 Persecutions under Mary, 197 et seq. , 2 1 1 ; under the Restora tion, 298. Peters, Hugh, 298. Philanthropy, The dawn of, 384. Philip of Spain, 217, 218. Philosophic Essays, 358. Phillpotts, Dr. , Bishop of Exeter, 434- Pilgrimage of Grace, The, 182. Phalaris, The letters of, 449. Picts and Scots, The, 11, 14. "Pious Club, "The, 371. Pisa, The Council of, 159. Pitt, William, 387. Pius VIL, Pope, 427. Pius IX., Pope, 444, 445. Plague, The, 225, 308. Pluralities, 252. Poetry, The new, 393. Poitiers, The Battle of, 144. Pole, Cardinal, 196. Poll Tax, The, 148. Poor law administration, 429. Pope, Appeals to the, 76, 84, 87, ioo, no, III, 134, 166; his name disappears from all service books, 169 ; end of his tem poral power, 446. "Popish Plot," The, 312. Popular thought, 449. Pounds, Mr., 385. Practical View of Christianity, The, 389. Praemunire, The Statute of, 143, 144, 153- Prayer Book, The first, 190, 192 ; the second, 190, 191 ; the new, 213, 214; unpopularity of, 273; use of, abolished, 281, 282 ; penalties against use of, 289 ; use of, restored, 299 ; revised by Convocation, 300, 305. Predestinarians, The, 231, 269. Presbyterians, The, 276, 281, 284, 285, 294 ; distrust of, 278. • Preston, Defeat of the Duke of Hamilton at, 285. Pretender, The, 343, 349. Pride, Colonel, 286. 2 L Prideaux, Dean, 344, 488. Priestley, Dr., 360. Primacy, The, 74. Primates, The, Anti - English policy of, 135. Principles of Geology, Lyell's, 452. Printing, Introduction of, 161. Private Masses, 185. Privy Council, The, appeals to, 435, 455- Provisors, The Statute of, 143, ¦53- Prynne, 269, 270, 273. Public Worship Regulation Act, The, 469. Purgatory, 178. Puritans, The, 224 ; persecution of, 228, 247 ; rivalry with the Church, 235 ; views of, 238. Puritanism, 309; reaction from, 295, 306; dislike of, 301; fall of, 306. Pusey, Dr., 412, 417-420, 450, 451, 464. Q Quebec, The first Bishop of, 379. Queen Victoria, H.M., Accession of, 430; jubilees of, 480, 481. R Radulfus, 130. Raikes, Robert, 385. Ranulf, Flambard, 78. Rationalism, 346, 417. Real Presence, The doctrine of, 461. Recusants, Laws against, 250. Reculver, Remains of British church at, 8. Reformers, The, 171, 213, 224; persecution of, 1 78. Reginald, elected Archbishop of Canterbury, in. Regular clergy, The, 61, 74. Reformation, A picture of the, 213. Religion, Influence of, 5 ; political aspect of, 348. Religious controversies, 353. 5H INDEX Religious orders, Rise of the, 121 ; popularity of, 133; fostered by the Popes, 134; corruption amongst, 159. Religious opinion, Change of, 235. Religious revival, The, 362 et seq. ; the singers of, 373. Religious Tract Society, The, 391. Religious zeal, 478. Reservations, System of, 140, 143. Restitutus, Bishop of London, 7. Restoration, The, 293. Revolutions of 1848, The, 441. Reynolds, Archbishop of Canter bury, 140. Rheims, Council at, 93. Rich, Edmund, Archbishop of Canterbury, 124. Richard, nominated Archbishop of Canterbury, 1 10. Richard II. , King, Overthrow of, 154. Richard III., King, 162. Richborough, Remains of British church at, 8 ; Roman mission aries land at, 17. Ridley, William, Bishop, 493. Ridley, Bishop of London, 199 ; burnt, 200. Rinuccini, The papal nuncio, 277. Ripon, Church at, 38. Ritualistic disputes, 77, 465 et seq. Robert de Twenge, Sir, 124. Robert, Bishop of London, se lected for the See of Canterbury, 69 ; outlawed by the Witan, 70. Robert, Earl of Gloucester, 92. Roger, Archbishop of York, 106. Rogers, Prebendary of St. Paul's, 198. Rogers, John, 257. Romaine, William, 388, 407. Roman missionaries, Arrival of, 15 ; influence of, 33. Romanists, Persecution of, by James, 247. Romanising influences, 43, 140, 420, 421, 437. Roman Catholics, Emancipation of the, 426, 428. Romantic Movement, The, 443, 445- Rome, Result of the sack of, 10 ; the bishops or popes of, 43 ; spread of their authority, 44, 45, 104, 105 ; interference of, 54, 58, 68, 69, no, in, 115; council at, 83 ; attitude of, to wards the monasteries in Eng land, 106, 107 ; greed of, 121 ; policy of, 219 ; the nation's - dread of, 264, 311 ; secessions to, 422. Romish intrigue, 311. " Root and Branch Policy," The, 274. Roses, The Wars of the, 159. Royal succession, The, 89. Royal supremacy, 76. Rubrics, The, 215. Ruffinianus, The missionary, 20. Russell, Lord John, 438. Sacheverell, Dr. Henry, 340. St. Albans, 9 ; income of the monastery of, 181. St. Bartholomew, The Massacre of, 219. St. James's Chapel Royal, 317. St. Paul in Britain, Legend of, 7. St. Thomas's Hospital, 194. Sancroft, Archbishop, 318, 330. Sanctuary, The right of, 41. Sanders, Rector of All Hallows, Bread Street, 198. Sanderson, Dr., 288. Sarum Use, The, 74, 190. Savoy Conference, The, 299. Sawtrey, William, 156. Saxons, The, 14. Schism Act, The, repeal of, 350. Schisms, 330, 331. Schism between Eastern and Western Christendom, The, 45. - Schlegel, Frederick von, 444. Schliermacher, 450 ; his work on St. Luke, 416. Schoeffer, 161. INDEX 5i5 Schwartz, Dr., 381. Scientific Thought, 451, 479, 480. Sclater, 317. Scory, Bishop of Chichester, 226. Scotland, a fief of the Papal See, 137 ; riots in, 273. Scott, Thomas, 383, 389. Scott's novels, 411. Seabury, Samuel, consecrated Bishop of Connecticut, 379. Seagrave, Robert, 375. Sebert, King of the East Saxons, 22 ; death of, 23. Secular clergy, The, 61, 74; deprived of their benefices, 63. Secular power, 98. Self-denying Ordinance, The, 284. Selwyn, Bishop, 493. Senlac (Hastings), 71. Septennial Act, The, 350, Separatists, The, 223; measures against, 225. Serious Call, The, 367. Seven Bishops, The, 322 et seq. Shakespeare, 233. Shaftesbury, Lord, 430. Shapton, Bishop, in exile, 186. Sharp, Dean, 319. Sheldon, Gilbert, Primate, 307. Shelley, 400. Sherlock, Bishop of London, 356. Sikes, Mr., 398. Simeon, Charles, 406, 407, 408, 489. Simon de Montford, 128. Simony, 78, 124. Six Articles, The, 185. Slave Trade, The, 385; abolition of, 428. Smith, Adam, 393. Smithfield, 199. Smythies, Bishop, 493. Society for Propagation of Gospel .in Foreign Parts, The, 335, 379- Social Movement, The, 431. Social state of the country, 157. S.P.C.K., The, 335. Somerset, Lord Protector, 189. South, Dr., 305, 359. South Sea Company, The, 350. Spencer, Bishop of Norwich, 153. Spenser, Edmund, 233. Spiritual truth, The search for, 462. Spurgeon, Rev. Charles, 476. Spurstow, Dr., 303. Stalybridge, Henry, 228. Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn, Dean of Westminster, 456. Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, 140. Star Chamber, The, 279. Stephen, Reign of, 91; seizes the estates of the Bishops of Salisbury and Lincoln, 92; supports the election of Theobald to the Primacy, 92; defies the papal legate, 93 ; death of, 94. Stillingfleet, E., 305, 310, 344. Strafford, Wentworth, Earl of, 272, 279. Sozomen, 7. Spearhafoc, Abbot of Abingdon, 69. Stamford Bridge, Battle of, 71. Stigand, Bishop of Winchester, 68; appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, 70; deposition of, 73- Strathclyde, 14. Sudbury, Archbishop, Murder of, 148. Suffragan Bishops, Revival of, 478. Sunday Schools, 385. Sundays, The observance of, 41, 269. Superstitions, 64 ; decay of, 359. Supremacy, The Act of, 169, 179; passed in Elizabeth's reign, 208; the oath of, Bishops asked to take, 218. Surplice, The use of the, 192, 224. Sussex, The kingdom of, 15. Swift, Jonathan, 342. T Taine, Mons. , on character build ing, 4- Tait, Archbishop, 256. Tale of a Tub, The, 211. Tauler, John, 174. 5i6 INDEX Taverner's Bible, 257. Taxation, The Church freed from, 41; the right of, 134; imposed on the clergy, 145. Taylor, Dr. Rowland, 198. Taylor, Jeremy, 305, 310, 363, 364, 397- Telluris Theoria Sacra, Burne's, 359- Temple, Sir William, 449. Templars, The Knights, 139. Tenison, Archbishop, 363. Ten Articles, The, 183. Ten Days' Mission, The, 478. Tenths, 345. Ten Hours Bill, The, 431. Tertullian, 7, 452. Test Act, The, 312; set aside by James II., 316; repeal of, 426. Teutonic ascendency, The period of, 494. Thanet, The Isle of, 17. Theobald, Abbot of Bee, 92 ; banished, 93 ; places the king dom under an interdict, 93. Theodore, Archbishop of Canter bury, 36 ; vigour and intolerance of, 37; organises a division of dioceses, 39 ; organisation of the Church in his time, 41. Theological controversies, 185. Theology and science, 452, 453. Thirlwall, Bishop, 416, 417, 451, 455- Thirty-nine Articles, The, 224, 420, 421. Thornton, Henry, 398. Thorntons of Clapham, The, 389. Thought, General progress of, 358. Thurstan, 77- Tillotson, Archbishop, 310, 333, 344, 363. Tindal, Matthew, 355. Tithes, 55, 169. Toleration, 253, 303, 304, 306, 310, 311, 333, 435, 460. Toleration Act, The, 332. Toplady, Augustus, 375. Tory clergy, The, 313, 337-344, 354- Toynbee Hall, 432. Tours, Council at, 98. Tractarian School, The, 418. Tract No. XC, 420. Tracts for the Times, 414, 417, 4'8, 433, 437- Transubstantiation, The Doctrine of, 148, 155, 178, 179, 185. Triers, The, 288. Truck System, The, 430. Turold, Abbot, 77. Tyler's Rebellion, 147, 148. Tyndale, 171; translates the gos pels and epistles into English, 177; his New Testament pro scribed, 1 78 ; prices paid for it, 183. Tyrconnel, The Earl of, 319, 328, 329- U Ulf, confirmed by the Pope in the See of Dorchester, 69 ; out lawed, 7°. Ultramontanes, The, 443, 444, 445, 447- Uniformity, The Act of, 215 ; of Charles II., 302, 305, 306. Union with Scotland, The, 339. Unitarians, The, 333. United Brethren, The, 368, 369. Unity of the nation, forwarded by the Church, 51. Universities, The influence of the, 132; remonstrance of, v. the corruption in the Church, 158. University settlements, The, 432. Ussher, Archbishop, 278, 397. V Vatican, The, 442, 443. Vatican Council, The, 446. Venn, Henry, 370, 388, 407. Venns, The, 383. Verulam (St. Albans), British Church at, 8. View of Deistical Writers, Le- land's, 358. Vitalian, Pope, 37. Vortigern, The British King, 11. INDEX 517 w Wallace, 456. Walpole, Sir Robert, 350, 379, 382. Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester, 356. Waterland, Dr., 355. Watson, Bishop, 390. Watson, Joshua, 398, 423. Watts, Isaac, 375, 376. Wearmouth monastery, 41. Werner, 444. Wesley, Charles, 367, 375. Wesley, John, 359, 360, 364-7, 369-73, 379- Wesley, Samuel, 364. Wesleys, The, 353, 382. Wessex, The kingdom of, 15; civil strife in, 48; influence of, 5 1 ; Alfred succeeds to the throne of, 53. Westminster Confession, The, 281. Whately, Archbishop, 418, 419. Whichcote, Benjamin, 305, 310. Whig and Tory, 313, 337-44, 354, 424, 428. Whitby, Conference at, 33-35. Whitgift, Archbishop, 228, 229, 240. Whitfield, George, 353, 371, 372, 379, 382. Whitthorne, British Church at, 8. Wighard, nominated to the See of Canterbury, 36. Wightman, Edward, 250. Wilberforce, William, 383, 386, 387, 389, 4°7- Wilberforce, Samuel, Bishop of Oxford, 437. Wilfrid and the Easter Use, 34 ; appointed to the See of York, 38 ; his work in the north, 38 ; his imprisonment, 39 ; appeals to Rome, 39, 40 ; given the See of Hexham and minster of Ripon, 40 ; death of, 40. Wilkes, John, 392. William de Corbeil, Archbishop of Canterbury, 88, 89; consents to be papal legate, 90, 91. 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CHARLES DARWIN. His Life told in an Autobiographical Chapter. Edited by his Son, Francis Darwin. With a Photo gravure Portrait. THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES. By means of Natural Selection. The Only authorized and complete Edition (The Sixth) of which the copyright does not expire for several years to come. THE DESCENT OF MAN. And Selection in Relation to Sex. With Illustrations. A NATURALIST'S VOYAGE. Journal of Researches into the Natural History and Geology of the Countries Visited during the Voyage of H.M.S. "Beagle" Round the World, under the Command of Capt. Fitzroy, R.N. With many Illustrations. THE FORMATION OF VEGETABLE MOULD THROUGH THE ACTION OF WORMS: With observations on their Habits. With Illustrations. THE VARIOUS CONTRIVANCES BY WHICH ORCHIDS ARE FERTILIZED BY INSECTS. With Illustra tions. THE EXPRESSION OF THE EMOTIONS IN MAN AND ANIMALS. Edited by Francis Darwin. With Photographic and other Illustrations. THE VARIATION of ANIMALS and PLANTS UNDER DOMESTICATION. 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