Uk"-6
the. /dividing if a Calkgt bt.tAif.Co{t>H
. 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.
William, Bishop of London, 70.
William IV., his dislike of the
Whigs, 425.
William the Conqueror, 71 ; his
policy, 72, 73. •
William Rufus, 78 ; death of, 81.
William the Witherer, 124.
William of York, St., 95.
Winchelsey, Archbishopof Canter
bury, 133, 136, 138.
Windsor, Meeting of Divines at,
190.
Witenagemot, The, 66.
Wittenberg, 177.
Wilson, Rev. H. B., 454.
Williams, Rev. Dr. Rowland, 454.
Wolsey, Cardinal, his foreign
policy, 166 ; his fall, 167 ; his
acts as legate of the Pope de
clared illegal, 169.
Woolston, Fellow of Sidney
Sussex, 355.
Wordsworth, Bishop Charles, 408.
Wordsworth, Dr., 398.
Wulfred, remonstrance against his
appointment to the See of Can
terbury, 55.
Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester, 73.
Wycliffe, 143, 145 ; his views,
146, 147 ; accused of heresy,
148 ; attacks the doctrine of
Transubstantiation, 150; his
death, 150; his work, 151;
desecration of his grave, 151 ;
his translation of the Bible, 170,
172. Y
Ynis-vytrin. See Glastonbury.
York, Conference at, 24 ; Church
at, 38 ; Archbishop of, recog
nised as Metropolitan of the
North, 74 ; attempt to make
the See independent, 86, 88.
York, The Duke of, 311-313.
York, The Use of, 190.
Zinzendorf, Count, 368.
Zwingle, 462.
Popular Editions of
Mr. Murray's Standard Works
Large Crown 8vo. 2/0 net each Vol.
Mr. Murray's popular Editions of Standard works are some of the most
attractive works now offered at a cheap price, being excellent alike in print and
appearance."— The Athenaum.
" I was enthusing to you in one of my recent letters about the handsome
re-issues of famous books that Mr. John Murray was putting out at half-a-crown
a-piece, I have just got three more, that in size and appearance look worth at
least three times the money — books that every lover of good literature ought to
buy and read." — The Reader.
" Many as inexpensive series are nowadays we know few, if any, cheap books
which offer such good value for money as the half-crown reprints of Mr. John
Murray."— Birmingham Post.
" Amongst other publishers who have turned their attention to new editions
is the firm of John Murray, and several of the books re-issued by this well-known
house are now before us. The crown octavo volumes in which they appear are
attractive in appearance and pleasant to handle, and make an excellent and
substantial library edition." — Inverness Courier.
Works of George Borrow.
THE BIBLE IN SPAIN ; or, The Journeys, Adventures and
Imprisonments of an Englishman in an Attempt to Circulate the
Scriptures in the Peninsula, With the Notes and Glossary of Ulick
Burke. With Photogravure Frontispiece.
LAVENGRO : The Scholar, the Gypsy, the Priest. A New
Edition, containing the Unaltered Text of the original issue ; some
Suppressed Episodes now printed for the first time ; MS. Variorum,
Vocabulary, and Notes by Professor W. I. Knapp. With Photo
gravure Portrait, 2 Half-tone Illustrations, and 8 Pen and Ink Sketches
by Percy Wadham.
ROMANY RYE. A Sequel to Lavengro. A New Edition.
Collated and revised in the same mannef as ' ' Lavengro, ' ' by Professor
W. I. Knapp. With Photogravure and 7 Pen and Ink Sketches by
F. G. Kitton.
WILD WALES : Its People, Language and Scenery. New Edition.
With Photogravure and 12 Illustrations by A. S. Hartrick.
THE GYPSIES OF SPAIN. Their Manners, Customs,
Religion and Language. With Photogravure Frontispiece and
7 Illustrations by A. Wallis Mills.
ROMANO LAVO LIL : The Word Book of the Romany or
English Gypsy Language, with Specimens of Gypsy Poetry and an
account of certain Gypsyries, or places inhabited by them, and of
various things relating to Gypsy Life in England.
The Popular Editions of
Each 2/0 net.
THE STORY of the BATTLE of WATERLOO
By the Rev. G. R. Gleig. With Map and Illustrations.
LIFE OF LORD ROBERT CLIVE, By the Rev
G. R. Gleig. Illustrated.
THE WILD SPORTS and NATURAL HISTORY
OF THE HIGHLANDS. By Charles St. John. With
Illustrations.
ROUND THE HORN BEFORE THE MAST.
By A. Basil Lubbock. With Illustrations.
" Mr. Basil Lubbock has written a book that Clark Russell could hardly have given us
in his palmiest days. . . . Not the least remarkable feature of this fascinating ' yarn '
is its obvious truthfulness. Who takes up Mr. Lubbock's tale of the sea, and puts it down
before finishing it, must be a dull individual." — Sunday Special.
FIELD PATHS and GREEN LANES in SURREY
AND SUSSEX, By Louis J. Jennings. Illustrated.
" The volume is a most readable one and the illustrations are charming. It is a work
for the summer, the hammock, and the lazy hour," — Daily Telegraph.
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. Being some
Account of a Voyage in 1856, in the Schooner Yacht Foam, to
Iceland, Jan Meyen, and Spitzbergen. By the late Marquess of
Dufferin. With Portrait and Illustrations.
" It is spiced with the spirit of romance and adventure of the sea and of literature,
and is one of the most delightful works of travel ever written." — Scotsman.
THE LION HUNTER OF SOUTH AFRICA.
Five Years' Adventure in the Far Interior of South Africa. With Notices
of the Native Tribes and Savages. By R. Gordon Cumming.
With 16 Woodcuts.
"It is many years since I first read Gordon Cumming's 'Lion Hunter' — the Lion
Hunter of South Africa, as he was called. With much of the old delight I have been
reading Mr. Murray's new edition of this entertaining work. . . . Language fails to
communicate the thrill it excites."— Westminster Gazette.
THE ROB ROY ON THE JORDAN, a canoe
Cruise in Palestine, Egypt, and the Waters of Damascus. By John
Macgregor, M.A., Captain of the Royal Canoe Club. With
Maps and Illustrations.
" In a handsome form and at a very cheap price Mr. Murray has issued a new edition
of Macgregor's 'The Rob Roy on the Jordan' . . . Mr. Murray is doing good service
in issuing such editions." — Liverpool Courier.
Mr. Murray's Standard Works.
Each 2/6 net.
ENGLISH BATTLES AND SIEGES IN THE
PENINSULA. By Lieut.-Gen. Sir William Napier, K.C.B.
With Portrait.
A HISTORY OF THE SIEGE OF GIBRALTAR,
1779-1783. With a Description and Account of that Garrison from
the Earliest Times. By John Drinkwater, Captain in the Seventy-
second Regiment of Royal Manchester Volunteers. With Plans.
THE LIFE OF JOHN NICHOLSON, Soldier and
Administrator. By Captain Lionel J. Trotter. With Portrait
and 3 Maps.
THE PERSONAL LIFE OF DAVID LIVING-
STONE. Chiefly from his Unpublished Journals and Correspondence
in the possession of his Family. By William Garden Blaikie, D.D. ,
LL.D. With Portrait and Map.
SIR WM. SMITH'S SMALLER DICTIONARY
OF THE BIBLE. With Maps and Illustrations.
" Has long been recognized as a standard authority. Containing over 6oo pages and
many fine and most useful illustrations, this handsome new edition at half-a-crown is a
marvel of cheapness. . . . Sunday-school teachers and other young students of the
Bible will find the work full of serviceable knowledge." — Christian World.
Works of the late Dean Stanley.
CHRISTIAN INSTITUTIONS. Essays on Ecclesiastical
Subjects.
LECTURES on the HISTORY of the JEWISH
CHURCH from Abraham to the Christian Era. With Portraits,
Maps and Plans. 3 Vols.
HISTORICAL MEMORIALS of CANTERBURY.
With Plans and Illustrations.
The instructive. - - , „ . London Quarterly Review.
LIFE OF THOMAS ARNOLD, D.D., Head Master
of Rugby. With Preface by the late Sir Joshua Fitch. With
Portrait and Illustrations.
" What to say in praise of this book we scarcely know. Here we have a popular
edition extending to nearly eight hundred pages, of a book which has long been regarded
as a classic— which indeed takes rank among the best biographies in the English language
—containing numerous illustrations and a complete index, and all for two shillings and
sixpence. ' ' — Schoolmaster.
Mr. Murray's Standard Works.
Each 2/6 net.
Works of the late Mrs. Bishop
(Isabella L. Bird).
HAWAIIAN ARCHIPELAGO. Six Months among the
Palm Groves and Coral Reefs and Volcanoes of the Sandwich
Islands. With Illustrations.
UNBEATEN TRACKS IN JAPAN, including visits to
the Aborigines of Yezo, and the Shrines of Nikh6 and Is6. Map
and Illustrations.
" The ' popular ' editions of two of the most valuable works of the late Mrs. Bishop
will help to familiarize a wider public with the achievements and writings of that
distinguished and gifted traveller, one of the most remarkable women of her time. Both
volumes are well illustrated." — The World.
Darwin's Life and Works.
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. With Illustrations. Large Cr. 8vo.
2 Vols. 5s. net.
MOVEMENTS AND HABITS OF CLIMBING
PLANTS. With Woodcuts.