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Title: The Eve of the Reformation - Studies in the Religious Life and Thought of the English - people in the Period Preceding the Rejection of the Roman - jurisdiction by Henry VIII
Author: Gasquet, Francis Aidan
Language: English
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THE EVE OF THE REFORMATION
FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET, D.D., O.S.B.
THE EVE OF THE
REFORMATION
STUDIES IN THE
RELIGIOUS LIFE AND THOUGHT OF THE ENGLISH
PEOPLE IN THE PERIOD PRECEDING THE
REJECTION OF THE ROMAN JURISDICTION
BY HENRY VIII
BY
FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET, D.D., O.S.B.
AUTHOR OF
“HENRY VIII. AND THE ENGLISH MONASTERIES,” ETC.
LONDON
JOHN C. NIMMO
14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND
MDCCCC
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
At the Ballantyne Press.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. INTRODUCTION 1
II. THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS IN ENGLAND 14
III. THE TWO JURISDICTIONS 51
IV. ENGLAND AND THE POPE 78
V. CLERGY AND LAITY 114
VI. ERASMUS 155
VII. THE LUTHERAN INVASION 208
VIII. THE PRINTED ENGLISH BIBLE 236
IX. TEACHING AND PREACHING 278
X. PARISH LIFE IN CATHOLIC ENGLAND 323
XI. PRE-REFORMATION GUILD LIFE 351
XII. MEDIÆVAL WILLS, CHANTRIES, AND OBITS 387
XIII. PILGRIMAGES AND RELICS 415
THE EVE OF THE REFORMATION
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
The English Reformation presents a variety of problems to the student
of history. Amongst them not the least difficult or important is the
general question, How are we to account for the sudden beginning and
the ultimate success of a movement which, apparently at least, was
opposed to the religious convictions and feelings of the nation at
large? To explain away the difficulty, we are asked by some writers to
believe that the religious revolution, although perhaps unrecognised
at the moment when the storm first burst, had long been inevitable,
and indeed that its issue had been foreseen by the most learned and
capable men in England. To some, it appears that the Church, on the
eve of the Reformation, had long lost its hold on the intelligence and
affection of the English people. Discontented with the powers claimed
by the ecclesiastical authority, and secretly disaffected to much of
the mediæval teaching of religious truth and to many of the traditional
religious ordinances, the laity were, it is suggested, only too eager
to seize upon the first opportunity of emancipating themselves from
a thraldom which in practice had become intolerable. An increase of
knowledge, too, it is supposed, had inevitably led men to view as false
and superstitious many of the practices of religion which had been
acquiesced in and followed without doubt or question in earlier and
more simple days. Men, with the increasing light, had come to see, in
the support given to these practices by the clergy, a determination to
keep people at large in ignorance, and to make capital out of many of
these objectionable features of mediæval worship.
Moreover, such writers assume that in reality there was little or no
practical religion among the mass of the people for some considerable
time before the outbreak of the religious difficulties in the sixteenth
century. According to their reading of the facts, the nation, as
such, had long lost its interest in the religion of its forefathers.
Receiving no instruction in faith and morals worthy of the name, they
had been allowed by the neglect of the clergy to grow up in ignorance
of the teachings, and in complete neglect of the duties, of their
religion. Ecclesiastics generally, secular as well as religious, had,
it is suggested, forfeited the respect and esteem of the laity by
their evil and mercenary lives; whilst, imagining that the surest way
to preserve the remnants of their former power was to keep the people
ignorant, they had opposed the literary revival of the fifteenth
century by every means at their command. In a word, the picture of
the pre-Reformation Church ordinarily drawn for us is that of a
system honeycombed with disaffection and unbelief, the natural and
necessary outcome of an attempt to maintain at all hazards an effete
ecclesiastical organisation, which clung with the tenacity of despair
to doctrines and observances which the world at large had ceased to
accept as true, or to observe as any part of its reasonable service.
In view of these and similar assertions, it is of interest and
importance to ascertain, if possible, what really was the position
of the Church in the eyes of the nation at large on the eve of the
Reformation, to understand the attitude of men’s minds to the system
as they knew it, and to discover, as far as may be, what in regard
to religion they were doing and saying and thinking about, when the
change came upon them. It is precisely this information which it has
hitherto been difficult to get, and the present work is designed to
supply some evidence on these matters. It does not pretend in any sense
to be a history of the English Reformation, to give any consecutive
narrative of the religious movements in this country during the
sixteenth century, or to furnish an adequate account of the causes
which led up to them. The volume in reality presents to the reader
merely a series of separate studies which, whilst joined together by a
certain connecting thread, must not be taken as claiming to present any
complete picture of the period immediately preceding the Reformation,
still less of that movement itself.
This is intentional. Those who know most about this portion of our
national history will best understand how impossible it is as yet for
any one, however well informed, to write the history of the Reformation
itself or to draw for us any detailed and accurate picture of the age
that went before that great event, and is supposed by some to have
led up to it. The student of this great social and religious movement
must at present be content to address himself to the necessary work of
sifting and examining the many new sources of information which the
researches of late years have opened out to the inquirer. For example,
what a vast field of work is not supplied by the _Calendar of Papers,
Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII._ alone! In many
ways this monumental work may well be considered one of the greatest
literary achievements of the age. It furnishes the student of this
portion of our national history with a vast catalogue of material,
all of which must be examined, weighed, and arranged, before it is
possible to pass a judgment upon the great religious revolution of
the sixteenth century. And, though obviously affording grounds for a
reconsideration of many of the conclusions previously formed in regard
to this perplexing period, it must in no sense be regarded as even an
exhaustive calendar of the available material. Rolls, records, and
documents of all kinds exist in public and private archives, which are
not included in these State Papers, but which are equally necessary
for the formation of a sound and reliable opinion on the whole story.
Besides this vast mass of material, the entire literature of the period
demands careful examination, as it must clearly throw great light on
the tone and temper of men’s minds, and reveal the origin and growth of
popular views and opinions.
Writers, such as Burnet, for example, and others, have indeed presented
their readers with the story of the Reformation as a whole, and have
not hesitated to set out at length, and with assurance, the causes
which led up to that event. Whether true or false, they have made their
synthesis, and taking a comprehensive view of the entire subject,
they have rendered their story more plausible by the unity of idea
it was designed to illustrate and confirm. The real value of such a
synthesis, however, must of course entirely depend on the data upon
which it rests. The opening up of new sources of information and the
examination of old sources in the critical spirit now demanded in all
historical investigations have fully proved, however, not merely this
or that fact to be wrong, but that whole lines of argument are without
justification, and general deductions without reasonable basis. In
other words, the old synthesis has been founded upon false facts and
false inferences.
Whilst, however, seeing that the old story of the Reformation in
England is wrong on some of the main lines upon which it depended,
it is for reasons just stated impossible at present to substitute a
new synthesis for the old. However unsatisfactory it may appear to be
reduced to the analysis of sources and the examination of details,
nothing more can safely be attempted at the present time. A general
view cannot be taken until the items that compose it have been proved
and tested and found correct. Till such time a provisional appreciation
at best of the general subject is alone possible. The present volume
then is occupied solely with some details, and I have endeavoured
mainly by an examination of the literature of the period in question
to gather some evidence of the mental attitude of the English people
towards the religious system which prevailed before the rejection of
the Roman jurisdiction by Henry VIII.
In regard to the general question, one or two observations may be
premised.
At the outset it may be allowed that in many things there was need
of reform in its truest sense. This was recognised by the best and
most staunch sons of Holy Church; and the Council of Trent itself,
when we read its decrees and measure its language, is sufficient
proof that by the highest authorities it was acknowledged that every
effort must be made to purify the Church from abuses, superstitions,
and scandals which, in the course of the long ages of its existence,
had sprung from its contact with the world and through the human
weaknesses of its rulers and ministers. In reality, however, the
movement for reform did not in any way begin with Trent, nor was it
the mere outcome of a terror inspired by the wholesale defection of
nations under the influence of the Lutheran Reformation. The need had
long been acknowledged by the best and most devoted sons of the Church.
There were those, whom M. Eugène Müntz has designated the “morose
cardinals,” who saw whither things were tending, and strove to the
utmost of their power to avert the impending catastrophe. As Janssen
has pointed out, in the middle of the fifteenth century, for instance,
Nicholas of Cusa initiated reforms in Germany, with the approval--if
not by the positive injunctions--of the Pope. It was, however, a true
reform, a reform founded on the principle “not of destruction, but of
purification and renewal.” Holding that “it was not for men to change
what was holy; but for the holy to change man,” he began by reforming
himself and preaching by example. He restored discipline and eagerly
welcomed the revival of learning and the invention of printing as the
most powerful auxiliaries of true religion. His projects of general
ecclesiastical reforms presented to Pius II. are admirable. Without
wishing to touch the organisation of the Church, he desired full and
drastic measures of “reformation in head and members.” But all this was
entirely different from the spirit and aim of those who attacked the
Church under the leadership of Luther and his followers. Their object
was not the reform and purification of abuses, but the destruction and
overthrow of the existing religious system. Before, say, 1517 or even
1521, no one at this period ever dreamt of wishing to change the basis
of the Christian religion, as it was then understood. The most earnest
and zealous sons of the Church never hesitated to attack this or that
abuse, and to point out this or that spot, desiring to make the edifice
of God’s Church, as they understood it, more solid, more useful, and
more like Christ’s ideal. They never dreamt that their work could
undermine the edifice, much less were their aims directed to pulling
down the walls and digging up the foundations; such a possibility was
altogether foreign to their conception of the essential constitution of
Christ’s Church. To suggest that men like Colet, More, and Erasmus had
any leaning to, or sympathy with, “the Reformation” as we know it, is,
in view of what they have written, absolutely false and misleading.
The fact is, that round the true history of the Reformation movement in
England, there has grown up, as Janssen has shown had been the case in
Germany, a mass of legend from which it is often difficult enough to
disentangle the truth. It has been suggested, for instance, that the
period which preceded the advent of the new religious ideas was, to
say the least, a period of stagnation. That, together with the light
of what is called the Gospel, came the era of national prosperity,
and that the golden age of literature and art was the outcome of
that liberty and freedom of spirit which was the distinct product of
the Protestant Reformation. And yet what are the facts? Was the age
immediately before the religious upheaval of the sixteenth century
so very black, and was it the magic genius of Luther who divined how
to call forth the light out of the “void and empty darkness”? Luther,
himself, shall tell us his opinion of the century before the rise of
Protestantism. “Any one reading the chronicles,” he writes, “will find
that since the birth of Christ there is nothing that can compare with
what has happened in our world during the last hundred years. Never
in any country have people seen so much building, so much cultivation
of the soil. Never has such good drink, such abundant and delicate
food, been within the reach of so many. Dress has become so rich that
it cannot in this respect be improved. Who has ever heard of commerce
such as we see it to-day? It circles the globe; it embraces the whole
world! Painting, engraving--all the arts--have progressed and are still
improving. More than all, we have men so capable, and so learned, that
their wit penetrates everything in such a way, that nowadays a youth of
twenty knows more than twenty doctors did in days gone by.”[1]
In this passage we have the testimony of the German reformer
himself that the eve of the Reformation was in no sense a period of
stagnation. The world was fully awake, and the light of learning and
art had already dawned upon the earth. The progress of commerce and
the prosperity of peoples owed nothing to the religious revolt of
the sixteenth century. Nor is this true only for Germany. There is
evidence to prove that Luther’s picture is as correct in that period
for England. Learning, there can be no question, in the fifteenth
century, found a congenial soil in this country. In its origin, as
well as in its progress, the English revival of letters, which may be
accurately gauged by the renewal of Greek studies, found its chief
patrons in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries among the clergy
and the most loyal lay sons of the Church. The fears of Erasmus that
the rise of Lutheranism would prove the death-blow of solid scholarship
were literally fulfilled. In England, no less than in Germany, amid
the religious difficulties and the consequent social disturbances,
learning, except in so far as it served to aid the exigencies of
polemics or meet the controversial needs of the hour, declined for
well-nigh a century; and so far from the Reformation affording the
congenial soil upon which scholarship and letters flourished, it
was in reality--to use Erasmus’s own favourite expression about the
movement--a “catastrophe,” in which was overwhelmed the real progress
of the previous century. The state of the universities of Oxford and
Cambridge, before and after the period of religious change, is an
eloquent testimony as to its effect on learning in general; whilst the
differences of opinion in religious matters to which the Reformation
gave rise, at once put a stop to the international character of the
foreign universities. English names forthwith disappeared from the
students’ lists at the great centres of learning in France and Italy,
an obvious misfortune, which had a disastrous effect on English
scholarship; the opening up of the schools of the reformed churches of
Germany in no wise compensating for the international training hitherto
received by most English scholars of eminence.
In art and architecture, too, in the second half of the fifteenth
century and the beginning of the sixteenth, there was manifested an
activity in England which is without a parallel. There never was a
period in which such life and energy was displayed in the building
and adornment of churches of all kinds as on the very eve of the
Reformation. Not in one part of the country only, nor in regard only
to the greater churches, was this characteristic activity shown, but
throughout the length and breadth of England the walls of our great
cathedrals and minsters, and well-nigh those of every little parish
church in the land, still bear their testimony to what was done out
of love for God’s house during the period in question by the English
people. Moreover, by the aid of the existing accounts and inventories
it can be proved to demonstration that it was a work which then, more
than at any other period of our national existence, appealed to the
people at large and was carried out by them. No longer, as in earlier
times, was the building and beautifying of God’s house left in this
period to some great noble benefactor or rich landowner. During the
fifteenth century the people were themselves concerned with the work,
initiated it, found the means to carry it out, and superintended it in
all its details.
The same may be said of art. The work of adorning the walls of the
churches with paintings and frescoes, the work of filling in the
tracery of the windows with pictured glass, the work of setting up,
and carving, and painting, and decorating; the making of screens,
and stalls, and altars, all during this period, and right up to the
eve of the change, was in every sense popular. It was the people who
carried out these works, and evidently for the sole reason because they
loved to beautify their churches, which were, in a way now somewhat
difficult to realise, the centre no less of their lives than of
their religion. Popular art grows, and only grows luxuriantly, upon a
religious soil; and under the inspiration of a popular enthusiasm the
parish churches of England became, if we may judge from the evidence of
the wills, accounts, and inventories which still survive, not merely
sanctuaries, but veritable picture galleries, teaching the poor and
unlettered the history and doctrine of their religion. Nor were the
pictures themselves the miserable daubs which some have suggested.
The stained-glass windows were not only multiplied in the churches
of England during this period, but by those best able to judge, the
time between 1480 and 1520 has been regarded as the golden age of the
art; and as regards the frescoes and decorations themselves, there is
evidence of the existence in England of a high proficiency, both in
design and execution, before the Reformation. Two examples may be taken
to attest the truth of this: the series of paintings against which the
stalls in Eton College Chapel are now placed, and the pictures on the
walls of the Lady Chapel at Winchester, now unfortunately destroyed
by the whitewash with which they had been covered on the change of
religion. Those who had the opportunity of examining the former series,
when many years ago they were uncovered on the temporary removal of the
stalls, have testified to their intrinsic merit. Indeed, they appeared
to the best judges of the time as being so excellent in drawing and
colour that on their authority they were long supposed to have been
the work of some unknown Italian artist of the school of Giotto. By a
fortunate discovery of Mr. J. Willis Clarke, however, it is now known
that both these and the Winchester series were in reality executed by
an Englishman, named Baker.
The same is true with regard to decoration and carving work. In
screen-work, the Perpendicular period is allowed to have excelled all
others, both in the lavish amount of the ornament as well as in the
style of decoration. One who has paid much attention to this subject
says: “During this period, the screen-work was usually enriched by
gilding and painting, or was ‘depensiled,’ as the phrase runs, and many
curious works of the limner’s art may still be seen in the churches of
Norfolk and Suffolk. In Sussex, the screens of Brighton and Horsham
may be cited as painted screens of beauty and merit, both having
been thus ornamented in a profuse and costly manner, and each bore
figures of saints in their panels.”[2] The churchwardens’ accounts,
too, show that the work of thus decorating the English parish churches
was in full operation up to the very eve of the religious changes.
In these truthful pictures of parochial life, we may see the people
and their representatives busily engaged in collecting the necessary
money, and in superintending the work of setting up altars and statues
and paintings, and in hiring carvers and decorators to enrich what
their ancestors had provided for God’s house. It was the age, too,
of organ-making and bell-founding, and there is hardly a record of
any parish church at this time which does not show considerable sums
of money spent upon these. From the middle of the fifteenth century
to the period described as “the great pillage,” music, too, had made
great progress in England, and the renown of the English school had
spread over Europe. Musical compositions had multiplied in a wonderful
way, and before the close of the fifteenth century “prick song,”
or part music, is very frequently found in the inventories of our
English parish churches. In fact, it has been recently shown that
much of the music of the boasted school of ecclesiastical music to
which the English Reformation had been thought to have given birth,
is, in reality, music adapted to the new English services, from Latin
originals, which had been inspired by the ancient offices of the
Church. Most of the “prick song” masses and other musical compositions
were destroyed in the wholesale destruction which accompanied the
religious changes, but sufficient remains to show that the English
pre-Reformation school of music was second to none in Europe. The
reputation of some of its chief masters, like Dunstable, Tallis, and
Bird, had spread to other countries, and their works had been used and
studied, even in that land of song, Italy.
A dispassionate consideration of the period preceding the great
religious upheaval of the sixteenth century will, it can hardly
be doubted, lead the inquirer to conclude that it was not in any
sense an age of stagnation, discontent, and darkness. Letters, art,
architecture, painting, and music, under the distinct patronage of the
Church, had made great and steady progress before the advent of the
new ideas. Moreover, those who will examine the old parish records
cannot fail to see that up to the very eve of the changes, the old
religion had not lost its hold upon the minds and affections of the
people at large. And one thing is absolutely clear, that it was not
the Reformation movement which brought to the world in its train the
blessings of education, and the arts of civilisation. What it did for
all these is written plainly enough in the history of that period of
change and destruction.
CHAPTER II
THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS IN ENGLAND
The story of the English literary revival in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries is of no little interest and importance. The full
history of the movement would form the fitting theme of an entire
volume; but the real facts are so contrary to much that is commonly
believed about our English renaissance of letters, that some brief
account is necessary, if we would rightly understand the attitude of
men’s minds on the eve of the Reformation. At the outset, it is useful
to recall the limits of this English renaissance. Judged by what is
known of the movement in Italy, the land of its origin, the word
“renaissance” is usually understood to denote not only the adoption of
the learning and intellectual culture of ancient Greece and Rome by the
leaders of thought in the Western World during the period in question,
but an almost servile following of classical models, the absorption
of the pagan spirit and the adoption of pagan modes of expression so
fully, as certainly to obscure, if it did not frequently positively
obliterate, Christian sentiment and Christian ideals. In this sense, it
is pleasing to think, the renaissance was unknown in England. So far,
however, as the revival of learning is concerned, England bore its part
in, if indeed it may not be said to have been in the forefront of, the
movement.
This has, perhaps, hardly been realised as it should be. That the
sixteenth century witnessed a remarkable awakening of minds, a
broadening of intellectual interests, and a considerable advance in
general culture, has long been known and acknowledged. There is little
doubt, however, that the date usually assigned both for the dawning
of the light and for the time of its full development is altogether
too late; whilst the circumstances which fostered the growth of
the movement have apparently been commonly misunderstood, and the
chief agents in initiating it altogether ignored. The great period
of the reawakening would ordinarily be placed without hesitation in
post-Reformation times, and writers of all shades of opinion have
joined in attributing the revival of English letters to the freedom of
minds and hearts purchased by the overthrow of the old ecclesiastical
system, and their emancipation from the narrowing and withering effects
of mediævalism.
On the assumption that the only possible attitude of English
churchmen on the eve of the great religious changes would be one of
uncompromising hostility to learning and letters, many have come to
regard the one, not as inseparably connected with the other, but the
secular as the outcome of the religious movement. The undisguised
opposition of the clergy to the “New Learning” is spoken of as
sufficient proof of the Church’s dislike of learning in general, and
its determination to check the nation’s aspirations to profit by the
general classical revival. This assumption is based upon a complete
misapprehension as to what was then the meaning of the term “New
Learning.” It was in no sense connected with the revival of letters, or
with what is now understood by learning and culture; but it was in the
Reformation days a well-recognised expression used to denote the novel
religious teachings of Luther and his followers.[3] Uncompromising
hostility to such novelties, no doubt, marked the religious attitude
of many, who were at the same time the most strenuous advocates of the
renaissance of letters. This is so obvious in the works of the period,
that were it not for the common misuse of the expression at the present
day, and for the fact that opposition to the “New Learning” is assumed
on all hands to represent hostility to letters, rather than to novel
teachings in religious matters, there would be no need to furnish
examples of its real use in the period in question. As it is, some
instances taken from the works of that time become almost a necessity,
if we would understand the true position of many of the chief actors at
this period of our history.
Roger Edgworth, a preacher, for instance, after speaking of those who
“so arrogantly glory in their learning, had by study in the English
Bible, and in these seditious English books that have been sent over
from our English runagates now abiding with Luther in Saxony,” praises
the simple-hearted faith that was accepted unquestioned by all “before
this wicked ‘New Learning’ arose in Saxony and came over into England
amongst us.”[4]
From the preface of _The Praier and Complaynte of the Ploweman_, dated
February 1531, it is equally clear that the expression “New Learning”
was then understood only of religious teaching. Like the Scribes and
Pharisees in the time of Our Lord, the author says, the bishops and
priests are calling out: “What ‘New Learning’ is it? These fellows
teach new learning: these are they that trouble all the world with
their new learning?… Even now after the same manner, our holy bishops
with all their ragman’s roll are of the same sort.… They defame,
slander, and persecute the word and the preachers and followers of
it, with the selfsame names, calling it ‘New Learning’ and them ‘new
masters.’”[5]
The same meaning was popularly attached to the words even after the
close of the reign of Henry VIII. A book published in King Edward’s
reign, to instruct the people “concerning the king’s majesty’s
proceedings in the communion,” bears the title, _The olde Faith of
Great Brittayne and the new learning of England_. It is, of course,
true, that the author sets himself to show that the reformed doctrines
were the old teachings of the Christian Church, and that, when St.
Gregory sent St. Augustine over into England, “the new learning was
brought into this realm, of which we see much yet remaining in the
Church at the present day.”[6] But this fact rather emphasises than
in any way obscures the common understanding of the expression “New
Learning,” since the whole intent of the author is to show that the
upholders of the old ecclesiastical system were the real maintainers
of a “New Learning” brought from Rome by St. Augustine, and not the
Lutherans. The same appears equally clearly in a work by Urbanus
Regius, which was translated and published by William Turner in 1537,
and called _A comparison betwene the old learnynge and the newe_. As
the translator says at the beginning--
“Some ther be that do defye
All that is newe and ever do crye
The olde is better, away with the new
Because it is false, and the olde is true.
Let them this booke reade and beholde,
For it preferreth the learning most olde.”
As the author of the previous volume quoted, so Urbanus Regius compares
the exclamation of the Jews against our Lord: “What new learning is
this?” with the objection, “What is this new doctrine?” made by the
Catholics against the novel religious teaching of Luther and his
followers. “This,” they say, “is the new doctrine lately devised and
furnished in the shops and workhouses of heretics. Let us abide still
in our old faith.… Wherefore,” continues the author, “I, doing the
office of Christian brother, have made a comparison between the ‘New
Learning’ and the olden, whereby, dear brother, you may easily know
whether we are called worthily or unworthily the preachers of the
‘New Learning.’ For so did they call us of late.” He then proceeds
to compare under various headings what he again and again calls “the
New Learning” and “the Old Learning.” For example, according to the
former, people are taught that the Sacraments bring grace to the soul;
according to the latter, faith alone is needful. According to the
former, Christ is present wholly under each kind of bread and wine,
the mass is a sacrifice for the living and the dead, and “oblation is
made in the person of the whole church”; according to the latter, the
Supper is a memorial only of Christ’s death, “and not a sacrifice, but
a remembrance of the sacrifice that was once offered up on the cross,”
and that “all oblations except that of our Lord are vain and void.”[7]
In view of passages such as the above, and in the absence of any
contemporary evidence of the use of the expression to denote the
revival of letters, it is obvious that any judgment as to a general
hostility of the clergy to learning based upon their admitted
opposition to what was then called the “New Learning” cannot seriously
be maintained. It would seem, moreover, that the religious position of
many ecclesiastics and laymen has been completely misunderstood by the
meaning now so commonly assigned to the expression. Men like Erasmus,
Colet, and to a great extent, More himself, have been regarded, to
say the least, as at heart very lukewarm adherents of the Church,
precisely because of their strong advocacy of the movement known as the
literary revival, which, identified by modern writers with the “New
Learning,” was, it is wrongly assumed, condemned by orthodox churchmen.
The Reformers are thus made the champions of learning; Catholics, the
upholders of ignorance, and the hereditary and bitter foes of all
intellectual improvement. No one, however, saw more clearly than did
Erasmus that the rise of Lutheran opinions was destined to be the
destruction of true learning, and that the atmosphere of controversy
was not the most fitting to assure its growth. To Richard Pace he
expressed his ardent wish that some kindly _Deus ex machinâ_ would
put an end to the whole Lutheran agitation, for it had most certainly
brought upon the humanist movement unmerited hatred.[8] In subsequent
letters he rejects the idea that the two, the Lutheran and the humanist
movements, had anything whatever in common; asserting that even Luther
himself had never claimed to found his revolt against the Church on
the principles of scholarship and learning. To him, the storm of the
Reformation appeared--so far as concerned the revival of learning--as a
catastrophe. Had the tempest not risen, he had the best expectations of
a general literary renaissance and of witnessing a revival of interest
in Biblical and patristic studies among churchmen. It was the breath of
bitter and endless controversy initiated in the Lutheran revolt and the
consequent misunderstandings and enmities which withered his hopes.[9]
There remains, however, the broader question as to the real position
of the ecclesiastical authorities generally, in regard to the revival
of learning. So far as England is concerned, their attitude is hardly
open to doubt in view of the positive testimony of Erasmus, which is
further borne out by an examination of the material available for
forming a judgment. This proves beyond all question, not only that the
Church in England on the eve of the change did not refuse the light,
but that, both in its origin and later development, the movement owed
much to the initiative and encouragement of English churchmen.
It is not necessary here to enter very fully into the subject of
the general revival of learning in Europe during the course of the
fifteenth century. At the very beginning of that period what Gibbon
calls “a new and perpetual flame” was enkindled in Italy. As in the
thirteenth century, so then it was the study of the literature and
culture of ancient Greece that re-enkindled the lamp of learning in
the Western World. Few things, indeed, are more remarkable than the
influence of Greek forms and models on the Western World. The very
language seems as if destined by Providence to do for the Christian
nations of Europe what in earlier ages it had done for pagan Rome. As
Dr. Döllinger has pointed out, this is “a fact of immense importance,
which even in these days it is worth while to weigh and place in its
proper light,” since “the whole of modern civilisation and culture is
derived from Greek sources. Intellectually we are the offspring of the
union of the ancient Greek classics with Hellenised Judaism.” One thing
is clear on the page of history: that the era of great intellectual
activity synchronised with re-awakened interests in the Greek
classics and Greek language in such a way that the study of Greek may
conveniently be taken as representing a general revival of letters.
By the close of the fourteenth century, the ever-increasing impotence
of the Imperial sway on the Bosphorus, and the ever-growing influence
of the Turk, compelled the Greek emperors to look to Western
Christians for help to arrest the power of the infidels, which, like
a flood, threatened to overwhelm the Eastern empire. Three emperors
in succession journeyed into the Western world to implore assistance
in their dire necessity, and though their efforts failed to save
Constantinople, the historian detects in these pilgrimages of Greeks
to the Courts of Europe the providential influence which brought about
the renaissance of letters. “The travels of the three emperors,” writes
Gibbon, “were unavailing for their temporal, or perhaps their spiritual
salvation, but they were productive of a beneficial consequence, the
revival of the Greek learning in Italy, from whence it was propagated
to the last nations of the West and North.”
What is true of Italy may well be true of other countries and places.
The second of these pilgrim emperors, Manuel, the son and successor of
Palæologus, crossed the Alps, and after a stay in Paris, came over the
sea into England. In December 1400 he landed at Dover, and was, with a
large retinue of Greeks, entertained at the monastery of Christchurch,
Canterbury. It requires little stretch of imagination to suppose that
the memory of such a visit would have lingered long in the cloister of
Canterbury, and it is hardly perhaps by chance that it is here that
half a century later are to be found the first serious indications
of a revival of Greek studies. Moreover, it is evident that other
Greek envoys followed in subsequent times, and even the great master
and prodigy of learning, Manuel Chrysoloras himself, found his way to
our shores, and it is hardly an assumption, in view of the position
of Canterbury--on the high-road from Dover to London--to suppose to
Christchurch also.[10] It was from his arrival in Italy, in 1396,
that may be dated the first commencement of systematic study of the
Greek classics in the West. The year 1408 is given for his visit to
England.[11]
There are indications early in the fifteenth century of a stirring of
the waters in this country. Guarini, a pupil of Chrysoloras, became
a teacher of fame at Ferrara, where he gathered round him a school
of disciples which included several Englishmen. Such were Tiptoft,
Earl of Worcester;[12] Robert Fleming, a learned ecclesiastic; John
Free, John Gundthorpe, and William Gray, Bishop of Ely; whilst another
Italian, Aretino, attracted by his fame another celebrated Englishman,
Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, to his classes. These, however, were
individual cases, and their studies, and even the books they brought
back, led to little in the way of systematic work in England at the old
classical models. The fall of Constantinople in 1453 gave the required
stimulus here, as in Italy. Among the fugitives were many Greek
scholars of eminence, such as Chalcocondylas, Andronicus, Constantine
and John Lascaris, who quickly made the schools of Italy famous by
their teaching. Very soon the fame of the new masters spread to other
countries, and students from all parts of the Western World found their
way to their lecture-halls in Rome and the other teaching centres
established in the chief cities of Northern Italy.
First among the scholars who repaired thither from England to drink
in the learning of ancient Greece and bring back to their country
the new spirit, we must place two Canterbury monks named Selling and
Hadley. Born somewhere about 1430, William Selling became a monk at
Christchurch, Canterbury, somewhere about 1448. There seems some
evidence to show that his family name was Tyll, and that, as was
frequently, if not generally, the case, on his entering into religion,
he adopted the name of Selling from his birthplace, some five miles
from Faversham in Kent.[13] It is probable that Selling, after having
passed through the claustral school at Canterbury, on entering the
Benedictine Order was sent to finish his studies at Canterbury College,
Oxford. Here he certainly was in 1450, for in that year he writes
a long and what is described as an elegant letter as a student at
Canterbury College to his Prior, Thomas Goldstone, at Christchurch
Canterbury.[14] He was ordained priest, and celebrated his first mass
at Canterbury in September 1456.[15]
In 1464 William Selling obtained leave of his Prior and convent to go
with a companion, William Hadley, to study in the foreign universities
for three years,[16] during which time they visited and sat under
the most celebrated teachers at Padua, Bologna, and Rome.[17] At
Bologna, according to Leland, Selling was the pupil of the celebrated
Politian, “with whom, on account of his aptitude in acquiring the
classical elegance of ancient tongues, he formed a familiar and lasting
friendship.”[18] In 1466 and 1467 we find the monks, Selling and his
companion Hadley, at Bologna, where apparently the readers in Greek
then were Lionorus and Andronicus,[19] and where, on the 22nd March
1466, Selling took his degree in theology, his companion taking his in
the March of the following year.[20]
Of this period of work, Leland says:--“His studies progressed. He
indeed imbued himself with Greek; everywhere he industriously and at
great expense collected many Greek books. Nor was his care less in
procuring old Latin MSS., which shortly after he took with him, as the
most estimable treasures, on his return to Canterbury.”[21]
His obituary notice in the Christchurch Necrology recites not only his
excellence in learning, classical and theological, but what he had
done to make his monastery at Canterbury a real house of studies. He
decorated the library over the Priests’ Chapel, adding to the books,
and assigned it “for the use of those specially given to study, which
he encouraged and cherished with wonderful watchfulness and affection.”
The eastern cloister also he fitted with glass and new desks, “called
carrels,” for the use of the studious brethren.[22]
After the sojourn of the two Canterbury monks in Italy, they returned
to their home at Christchurch. Selling, however, did not remain
there long, for on October 3, 1469, we find him setting out again
for Rome[23] in company with another monk, Reginald Goldstone, also
an Oxford student. This visit was on business connected with his
monastery, and did not apparently keep him long away from England,
for there is evidence that sometime before the election of Selling
to the Priorship at Canterbury, which was in 1472, he was again at
his monastery. Characteristically, his letter introducing William
Worcester, the antiquary, to a merchant of Lucca who had a copy of
Livy’s _Decades_ for sale, manifests his great and continued interest
in classical literature.[24]
At Canterbury, Selling must have established the teaching of Greek on
systematic lines, and it is certainly from this monastic school as
a centre, that the study spread to other parts of England. William
Worcester, keenly alive to the classical revival, as his note-books
show, tells us of “certain Greek terminations as taught by Doctor
Selling of Christchurch, Canterbury,” and likewise sets down the
pronunciation of the Greek vowels with examples evidently on the same
authority.[25]
Selling’s long priorship, extending from 1472 to 1495, would have
enabled him to consolidate the work of this literary renaissance which
he had so much at heart.[26] The most celebrated of all his pupils
was, of course, Linacre. Born, according to Caius, at Canterbury, he
received his first instruction in the monastic school there, and his
first lessons in the classics and Greek from Selling himself. Probably
through the personal interest taken in this youth of great promise
by Prior Selling, he was sent to Oxford about 1480. Those who have
seriously examined the matter believe that the first years of his
Oxford life were spent by Linacre at the Canterbury College, which was
connected with Christchurch monastery, and which, though primarily
intended for monks, also afforded a place of quiet study to others who
were able to obtain admission.[27] Thus, in later years, Sir Thomas
More, no doubt through his father’s connection with the monastery of
Christchurch, Canterbury, of which house he was a “confrater,” became
a student at the monks’ college at Oxford. In later years Sir Thomas
himself, when Chancellor of England, perpetuated the memory of his
life-long connection with the monks of Canterbury by enrolling his name
also on the fraternity lists of that house.
Linacre, in 1484, became a Fellow of All Souls’ College, but evidently
he did not lose touch with his old friends at Canterbury, for, in 1486,
Prior Selling being appointed one of the ambassadors of Henry VII. to
the Pope, he invited his former pupil to accompany him to Italy, in
order to profit by the teaching of the great humanist masters at the
universities there. Prior Selling took him probably as far as Florence,
and introduced him to his own old master and friend, Angelo Politian,
who was then engaged in instructing the children of Lorenzo de Medici.
Through Selling’s interest, Linacre was permitted to share in their
lessons, and there are letters showing that the younger son, when in
after years he became Pope, as Leo X., was not unmindful of his early
companionship with the English scholar.[28] From Politian, Linacre
acquired a purity of style in Latin which makes him celebrated even
among the celebrated men of his time. Greek he learnt from Demetrius
Chalcocondylas, who was then, like Politian, engaged in teaching the
children of Lorenzo de Medici.[29]
From Florence, Linacre passed on to Rome, where he gained many friends
among the great humanists of the day. One day, when examining the
manuscripts of the Vatican Library for classics, and engaged in reading
the _Phædo_ of Plato, Hermolaus Barbarus came up and politely expressed
his belief that the youth had no claim, as he had himself, to the title
Barbarus, if it were lawful to judge from his choice of a book. Linacre
at once, from the happy compliment, recognised the speaker, and this
chance interview led to a life-long friendship between the Englishman
and one of the great masters of classical literature.[30]
After Linacre had been in Italy for a year or more, a youth whom he had
known at Oxford, William Grocyn, was induced to come and share with him
the benefit of the training in literature then to be obtained only in
Italy. On his return in 1492, Grocyn became lecturer at Exeter College,
Oxford, and among his pupils in Greek were Sir Thomas More[31] and
Erasmus. He was a graduate in theology, and was chosen by Dean Colet to
give lectures at St. Paul’s and subsequently appointed by Archbishop
Warham, Master or Guardian of the collegiate church of Maidstone.[32]
Erasmus describes him as “a man of most rigidly upright life, almost
superstitiously observant of ecclesiastical custom, versed in every
nicety of scholastic theology, by nature of the most acute judgment,
and, in a word, fully instructed in every kind of learning.”[33]
Linacre, after a distinguished course in the medical schools of Padua,
returned to Oxford, and in 1501 became tutor to Prince Arthur. On the
accession of Henry VIII. he was appointed physician to the court, and
could count all the distinguished men of the day, Wolsey, Warham, Fox,
and the rest, among his patients; and Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, and
Queen Mary among his pupils in letters. In his early life, entering
the clerical state, he had held ecclesiastical preferment; in advanced
years he received priest’s orders, and devoted the evening of his life
to a pious preparation for his end.[34]
Grocyn and Linacre are usually regarded as the pioneers of the revival
of letters. But, as already pointed out, the first to cross the Alps
from England in search for the new light, to convey it back to England,
and to hand it on to Grocyn and Linacre, were William Selling, and
his companion, William Hadley. Thus, the real pioneers in the English
renaissance were the two monks of Christchurch, and, some years after,
the two ecclesiastics, Grocyn and Linacre.
Selling, even after his election to the priorship of Canterbury,
continued to occupy a distinguished place both in the political world
and in the world of letters. He was chosen, though only the fifth
member of the embassy sent by Henry VII. on his accession to the Pope,
to act as orator, and in that capacity delivered a Latin oration before
the Pope and Cardinals.[35]
He was also and subsequently sent with others by Henry on an embassy to
the French king, in which he also fulfilled the function of spokesman,
making what is described as “a most elegant oration.”
That as Prior, Selling kept up his interest in the literary revival is
clear from the terms of his obituary notice. There exists, moreover,
a translation made by him after his return from his embassy to Rome,
when he took his youthful protégé, Linacre, and placed him under
Chalcocondylas and Politian in Florence, which seems to prove that
the renewal of his intimacy with the great humanist masters of Italy
had inspired him with a desire to continue his literary work. Even in
the midst of constant calls upon him, which the high office of Prior
of Canterbury necessitated, he found time to translate a sermon of
St. John Chrysostom from the Greek, two copies of which still remain
in the British Museum.[36] This is dated 1488; and it is probably the
first example of any Greek work put into Latin in England in the early
days of the English renaissance of letters. The very volume (Add. MS.
15,673) in which one copy of this translation is found shows by the
style of the writing, and other indications, the Italian influences at
work in Canterbury in the time of Selling’s succession at the close
of the fifteenth century; and also the intercourse which the monastery
there kept up with the foreign humanists.[37]
It is hardly necessary to say more about the precious volumes of the
classics and the other manuscripts which Selling collected on his
travels. Many of them perished, with that most rare work, Cicero’s
_De Republica_, in the fire caused by the carelessness of some of
Henry VIII.’s visitors on the eve of the dissolution of Selling’s old
monastery at Canterbury. Some, like the great Greek commentaries of
St. Cyril on the Prophets, were rescued half burnt from the flames;
“others, by some good chance,” says Leland, “had been removed; amongst
these were the commentaries of St. Basil the Great on Isaias, the
works of Synesius and other Greek codices.”[38] Quite recently it has
been recognised that the complete Homer and the plays of Euripides
in Corpus Christi College library at Cambridge, which tradition had
associated with the name of Archbishop Theodore in the seventh century,
are in reality both fifteenth-century manuscripts; and as they formed,
undoubtedly, part of the library at Christchurch, Canterbury, it is
hardly too much to suppose that they were some of the treasures brought
back by Prior Selling from Italy. The same may probably be said of a
Livy, a fifteenth-century Greek Psalter, and a copy of the Psalms in
Hebrew and Latin, in Trinity College Library.[39]
Prior Selling’s influence, moreover, extended beyond the walls of his
own house, and can be traced to others besides his old pupil, and, as
some think, relative, Linacre. Among the friendships he had formed
whilst at Padua was that of a young ecclesiastical student, Thomas
Langton, with whom he was subsequently at Rome. Langton was employed
in diplomatic business by King Edward IV., and whilst in France,
through his friendship for Prior Selling, obtained some favour from
the French king for the monastery of Canterbury. In return for this
the monks offered him a living in London.[40] Prior Selling, on one
occasion at least, drafted the sermon which Dr. Langton was to deliver
as prolocutor in the Convocation of the Canterbury Province.[41] In
1483 Langton became Bishop of Winchester, and “such was his love of
letters” that he established in his own house a _schola domestica_ for
boys, and himself used to preside in the evening at the lessons. One
youth especially attracted his attention by his music. This was Richard
Pace, afterwards renowned as a classical scholar and diplomatist.
Bishop Langton recognised his abilities, and forthwith despatched him
to Italy, paying all his expenses at the universities of Padua and
Rome.[42] At the former place, he says: “When as a youth I began
to work at my humanities, I was assisted by Cuthbert Tunstall and
William Latimer, men most illustrious and excelling in every branch of
learning, whose prudence, probity, and integrity were such that it were
hard to say whether their learning excelled their high moral character,
or their uprightness their learning.”[43]
At this university he was taught by Leonicus and by Leonicenus, the
friend and correspondent of Politian: “Men,” he says, as being unable
to give higher praise, “like Tunstall and Latimer.”[44] Passing on to
Bologna he sat at the feet of Paul Bombasius, “who was then explaining
every best author to large audiences.” Subsequently, at Rome, he formed
a lasting friendship with William Stokesley, whom he describes as “his
best friend on earth; a man of the keenest judgment, excellent, and
indeed marvellous, in theology and philosophy, and not only skilled
in Greek and Latin, but possessed of some knowledge of Hebrew,” whose
great regret was that he had not earlier in life realised the power of
the Greek language.[45] At Ferrara, too, Pace first met Erasmus, and
he warmly acknowledges his indebtedness to the influence of this great
humanist.
In 1509, Richard Pace accompanied Cardinal Bainbridge to Rome, and
was with him when the cardinal died, or was murdered, there in 1514.
Whilst in the Eternal City, “urged to the study by that most upright
and learned man, William Latimer,” he searched the Pope’s library for
books of music, and found a great number of works on the subject.
The cardinal’s death put a stop to his investigations; but he had
seen sufficient to be able to say that to study the matter properly a
man must know Greek and get to the library of the Pope, where there
were many and the best books on music. “But,” he adds, “I venture to
say this, our English music, if any one will critically examine into
the matter, will be found to display the greatest subtlety of mind,
especially in what is called the introduction of harmonies, and in this
matter to excel ancient music.”[46]
It is unnecessary to follow in any detail the story of the general
literary revival in England. Beginning with Selling, the movement
continued to progress down to the very eve of the religious disputes.
That there was opposition on the part of some who regarded the
stirring of the waters with suspicion was inevitable. More especially
was this the case because during the course of the literary revival
there rose the storm of the great religious revolt of the sixteenth
century, and because the practical paganism which had resulted from
the movement in Italy was perhaps not unnaturally supposed by the
timorous to be a necessary consequence of a return to the study of
the classics of Greece and Rome. The opposition sprung generally from
a misunderstanding, and “not so much from any hostility to Greek
itself as from an indifference to any learning.” This Sir Thomas More
expressly declares when writing to urge the Oxford authorities to
repress a band of giddy people who, calling themselves Trojans, made
it their duty to fight against the _Grecians_. It is true also that
the pulpit was at times brought into requisition to decry “not only
Greek and Latin studies,” but liberal education of any kind.[47] But,
so far as England is concerned, this opposition to the revival of
letters, even on the score of the danger likely to come either to faith
or morals, was, when all is said, slight, and through the influence of
More, Fisher, and the king himself, easily subdued.[48] The main fact,
moreover, cannot be gainsaid, namely, that the chief ecclesiastics of
the day, Wolsey, Warham, Fisher, Tunstall, Langton, Stokesley, Fox,
Selling, Grocyn, Whitford, Linacre, Colet, Pace, William Latimer, and
Thomas Lupset,[49] to name only the most distinguished, were not
only ardent humanists, but thorough and practical churchmen. Of the
laymen, whether foreigners or Englishmen, whose names are associated
with the renaissance of letters in this country, such as, for example,
the distinguished scholar Ludovico Vives, the two Lillys, Sir Thomas
More, John Clement,[50] and other members of More’s family, there can
be no shadow of doubt about their dispositions towards the ancient
ecclesiastical régime. A Venetian traveller, in 1500, thus records what
he had noticed as to the attitude of ecclesiastics generally towards
learning:--“Few, excepting the clergy, are addicted to the study of
letters, and this is the reason why any one who has any learning,
though he may be a layman, is called a _clerk_. And yet they have great
advantages for study, there being two general universities in the
kingdom, Oxford and Cambridge, in which there are many colleges founded
for the maintenance of poor scholars. And your magnificence (the Doge
of Venice) lodged at one named Magdalen, in the University of Oxford,
of which, as the founders having been prelates, so the scholars also
are ecclesiastics.”
It was in England, and almost entirely among the ecclesiastics of
England, that Erasmus found his chief support. “This England of yours,”
he writes to Colet in 1498, “this England, dear to me on many accounts,
is above all most beloved because it abounds in what to me is the best
of all, men deeply learned in letters.”[51] Nor did he change his
opinion on a closer acquaintance. In 1517, to Richard Pace he wrote
from Louvain in regret at leaving a country which he had come to regard
as the best hope of the literary revival:--“Oh, how truly happy is your
land of England, the seat and stronghold of the best studies and the
highest virtue! I congratulate you, my friend Pace, on having such a
king, and I congratulate the king whose country is rendered illustrious
by so many brilliant men of ability. On both scores I congratulate this
England of yours, for though fortunate for many other reasons, on this
score no other land can compete with it.”[52]
When William Latimer said in 1518 that Bishop Fisher wished to study
Greek for Biblical purposes, and that he thought of trying to get a
master from Italy, Erasmus, whilst applauding the bishop’s intention
as likely to encourage younger men to take up the study, told Latimer
that such men were not easy to find in Italy. “If I may openly say my
mind,” he adds, “if I had Linacre, or Tunstall, for a master (for of
yourself I say nothing), I would not wish for any Italian.”[53]
Not to go into more lengthy details, there is, it must be admitted,
abundant evidence to show that there was in the religious houses of
England, no less than in the universities, a stirring of the waters,
and a readiness to profit by the real advance made in education and
scholarship. The name of Prior Charnock, the friend of Colet and
Erasmus at Oxford, is known to all. But there are others with even
greater claim than he to be considered leaders in the movement.
There is distinct evidence of scholarship at Reading, at Ramsey, at
Glastonbury, and elsewhere.[54] The last-named house, Glastonbury,
was ruled by Abbot Bere, to whose criticism Erasmus desired to submit
his translation of the New Testament from the Greek. Bere himself had
passed some time, with distinction, in Italy, had been sent on more
than one embassy by the king, and had been chosen by Henry VII. to
invest the Duke of Urbino with the Order of the Garter, and to make
the required oration on that occasion.[55] He had given other evidence
also of the way the new spirit that had been enkindled in Italy had
entered into his soul. It was through Abbot Bere’s generosity that
Richard Pace, whom Erasmus calls “the half of his soul,” was enabled
to pursue his studies in Italy.[56] Glastonbury was apparently a soil
well prepared for the seed-time, for even in the days of Abbot Bere’s
predecessor, Abbot John Selwood, there is evidence to show that the
religious were not altogether out of touch with the movement. The
abbot himself presented one of the monks with a copy of John Free’s
translation from the Greek of _Synesius de laude Calvitii_. The volume
is written by an Italian scribe, and contains in the introductory
matter a letter to the translator from Omnibonus Leonicensis, dated
at Vicenza in 1461, as well as a preface or letter by Free to John
Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester.[57]
At St. Augustine’s, Canterbury, also, we find, even amid the ruins
of its desolation, traces of the same spirit which pervaded the
neighbouring cloister of Christchurch. The antiquary Twyne declares
that he had been intimately acquainted with the last abbot, whom he
knew to have been deeply interested in the literary movement. He
describes his friend as often manifesting in conversation his interest
in and knowledge of the ancient classical authors. He says that this
monk was the personal friend of Ludovico Vives, and that he sent over
the sea one of his subjects at St. Augustine’s, John Digon, whom he
subsequently made prior of his monastery, to the schools of Louvain, in
order that he might profit by the teaching of that celebrated Spanish
humanist.[58]
Beyond the foregoing particular instances of the real mind of English
ecclesiastics towards the revival of studies, the official registers
of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge furnish us with evidence
of the general attitude of approval adopted by the Church authorities
in England. Unfortunately, gaps in the Register of Graduates at Oxford
for the second half of the fifteenth century do not enable us to gauge
the full extent of the revival, but there is sufficient evidence that
the renaissance had taken place. In the eleven years, from A.D. 1449
to A.D. 1459, for which the entries exist, the average number of
degrees taken by all students was 91.5. From 1506, when the registers
begin again, to 1535, when the commencement of operations against the
monastic houses seemed to indicate the advent of grave religious
changes, the average number of yearly degrees granted was 127. In 1506
the number had risen to 216, and only in very few of the subsequent
years had the average fallen below 100. From 108 in 1535, the number of
graduates fell in 1536 to only 44; and the average for the subsequent
years of the reign of Henry VIII. was less than 57. From 1548 to 1553,
that is, during the reign of Edward VI., the average of graduates was
barely 33, but it rose again, whilst Mary was on the throne, to 70.
If the same test be applied to the religious Orders, it will be found
that they likewise equally profited by the new spirit. During the
period from 1449 to 1459 the Benedictine Order had a yearly average
of 4 graduates at Oxford, the other religious bodies taken together
having 5. In the second period of 1506-1539 the Benedictine graduates
number 200, and (allowing for gaps in the register) the Order had thus
a yearly average of 6.75, the average of the other Orders during the
same period being 5.2. If, moreover, the number of the religious who
took degrees be compared with that of the secular students, it will be
found that the former seem to have more than held their own. During
the time from 1449 to 1459 the members of the regular Orders were to
the rest in the proportion of 1 to 9.5. In the period of the thirty
years immediately preceding the general dissolution it was as 1 to 9.
Interest in learning, too, was apparently kept up among the religious
Orders to the last. Even with their cloisters falling on all sides
round about them, in the last hour of their corporate existence, that
is in the year 1538-39, some 14 Benedictines took their degrees at
Oxford.
In regard to Cambridge, a few notes taken from the interesting preface
to a recent “History of Gonville and Caius College” will suffice to
show that the monks did not neglect the advantages offered to them
in the sister university.[59] Gonville Hall, as the college was then
called, was by the statutes of Bishop Bateman closely connected with
the Benedictine Cathedral Priory of Norwich. Between 1500 and 1523 the
early bursars’ accounts give a list of “pensioners,” and these “largely
consisted of monks sent hither from their respective monasteries for
the purpose of study.” These “pensioners paid for their rooms and their
commons, and shared their meals with the fellows. All the greater
monasteries in East Anglia, such as the Benedictine Priory at Norwich,
the magnificent foundation of Bury, and (as a large landowner in
Norfolk) the Cluniac House at Lewes, seem generally to have had several
of their younger members in training at our college. To these must be
added the Augustinian Priory of Westacre, which was mainly frequented
(as Dr. Jessopp tells us) by the sons of the Norfolk gentry.”[60]
The Visitations of the Norwich Diocese (1492-1532), edited by Dr.
Jessopp for the Camden Society, contain many references to the monastic
students at the university. In one house, for example, in 1520, the
numbers are short, because “there were three in the university.” In
another case, when a religious house was too poor to provide the
necessary money to support a student during his college career, it
was found by friends of the monastery, until a few years later, when,
on the funds improving, the house was able to meet the expenses. This
same house, the Priory of Butley, “had a special arrangement with the
authorities of Gonville Hall for the reservation of a suitable room
for their young monks.” One object of sending members of a monastery
to undergo the training of a university course “was to qualify
for teaching the novices at their own house”; for after they have
graduated and returned to their monastery, we not infrequently find
them described as “_idoneus preceptor pro confratribus_”; “_idoneus
pro noviciis et junioribus_,” &c. Moreover, the possession of a degree
on the part of a religious, as an examination of the lists will show,
often in after life meant some position of trust or high office in the
monastery of the graduate.
Nor was the training then received any light matter of form; it meant
long years of study, and the possession of a degree was, too, a public
testimony to a certain proficiency in the science of teaching. Thus,
for example, George Mace, a canon of Westacre, who became a pensioner
at Gonville Hall in 1508, studied arts for five years and canon law for
four years at the university, and continued the latter study for eight
years in his monastery.[61] William Hadley, a religious of the same
house, had spent eleven years in the study of arts and theology;[62]
and Richard Brygott, who took his B.D. in 1520, and who subsequently
became Prior of Westacre, had studied two years and a half in his
monastery, two years in Paris, and seven in Cambridge.[63]
“With the Reformation, of course, all this came to an end,” writes
Mr. Venn, and we can well understand that this sudden stoppage of
what, in the aggregate, was a considerable source of supply to the
university, was seriously felt. On the old system, as we have seen, the
promising students were selected by their monasteries, and supported in
college at the expense of the house. As the author of the interesting
account of Durham Priory says: “If the master did see that any of
them (the novices) were apt to learning, and did apply his book and
had a pregnant wit withal, then the master did let the prior have
intelligence. Then, straightway after he was sent to Oxford to school,
and there did learn to study divinity.”[64]
Moreover, it should be remembered that it was by means of the
assistance received from the monastic and conventual houses that a very
large number of students were enabled to receive their education at the
universities at all. The episcopal registers testify to this useful
function of the old religious corporations. The serious diminution in
the number of candidates for ordination, and the no less lamentable
depletion of the national universities, consequent upon the dissolution
of these bodies, attest what had previously been done by them for the
education of the pastoral clergy. This may be admitted without any
implied approval of the monastic system as it existed. The fact will
be patent to all who will examine into the available evidence; and the
serious diminution in the number of clergy must be taken as part of the
price paid by the nation for securing the triumph of the Reformation
principles. The state of Oxford during, say, the reign of Edward VI.,
is attested by the degree lists. In the year 1547 and in the year 1550
no student at all graduated, and the historian of the university has
described the lamentable state to which the schools were reduced. If
additional testimony be needed, it may be found in a sermon of Roger
Edgworth, preached in Queen Mary’s reign. Speaking of works of piety
and pity, much needed in those days, the speaker advocates charity to
the poor students at the two national universities. “Very pity,” he
says, “moves me to exhort you to mercy and pity on the poor students
in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. They were never so few in
number, and yet those that are left are ready to run abroad into the
world and give up their study for very need. Iniquity is so abundant
that charity is all cold. A man would have pity did he but hear the
lamentable complaints that I heard lately when amongst them. Would to
God I were able to relieve them. This much I am sure of: in my opinion
you cannot bestow your charity better.” He then goes on to instance
his own case as an example of what used to be done in Catholic times
to help the student in his education. “My parents sent me to school in
my youth, and my good lord William Smith, sometime Bishop of Lincoln,
(was) my bringer up and ‘exhibitour,’ first at Banbury in the Grammar
School with Master John Stanbridge, and then at Oxford till I was a
Master of Arts and able to help myself.”
He pleads earnestly that some of his hearers may be inspired to help
the students in the distress to which they are now reduced, and so help
to restore learning to the position from which it had fallen in late
years.[65]
Of the lamentable decay of scholarship as such, the inevitable, and
perhaps necessary, consequence of the religious controversies which
occupied men’s minds and thoughts to the exclusion of all else, it is,
of course, not the place here to dwell upon. All that it is necessary
to do is to point out that the admitted decay and decline argues a
previous period of greater life and vigour. Even as early as 1545 the
Cambridge scholars petitioned the king for an extension of privileges,
as they feared the total destruction of learning. To endeavour to save
Oxford, it was ordered that every clergyman, having a benefice to the
amount of £100, should out of his living find at least one scholar at
the university. Bishop Latimer, in Edward VI.’s reign, looked back
with regret to past times “when they helped the scholars,” for since
then “almost no man helpeth to maintain them.” “Truly,” he said, “it
is a pitiful thing to see the schools so neglected. Schools are not
maintained, scholars have not exhibitions.… Very few there be that help
poor scholars.… It would pity a man’s heart to hear what I hear of the
state of Cambridge; what it is in Oxford I cannot tell.… I think there
be at this day (A.D. 1550) ten thousand students less than there were
within these twenty years.” In the year 1550, it will be remembered,
there was apparently no degree of any kind taken at the university of
Oxford.
This fact appears patent on this page of history; that from the time
when minds began to exercise themselves on the thorny subjects which
grew up round about the “great divorce” question, the bright promises
of the revival of learning, which Erasmus had seen in England, faded
away. Greek, it has been said, may conveniently stand for learning
generally; and Greek studies apparently disappeared in the religious
turmoils which distracted England. With Mary’s accession, some attempt
was made to recover lost ground, or at least re-enkindle the lamp of
learning. When Sir Thomas Pope refounded Durham College at Oxford
under the name of Trinity, he was urged by Cardinal Pole, to whom he
submitted the draft of his statutes, “to order Greek to be more taught
there than I have provided. This purpose,” he says, “I like well, but
I fear the times will not bear it now. I remember when I was a young
scholar at Eton, the Greek tongue was growing apace, the study of which
is now of late much decayed.”[66]
The wholesale destruction of the great libraries in England is an
indirect indication of the new spirit which rose at this time, and
which helped for a time to put an end to the renaissance of letters.
When Mary came to the throne, and quieter times made the scheme
possible, it was seriously proposed to do something to preserve the
remnant of ancient and learned works that might be left in England
after the wholesale destruction of the preceding years. The celebrated
Dr. Dee drew up a supplication to the queen, stating that “among the
many most lamentable displeasures that have of late happened in this
realm, through the subverting of religious houses and the dissolution
of other assemblies of godly and learned men, it has been, and among
all learned students shall for ever be, judged not the least calamity,
the spoil and destruction of so many and so notable libraries wherein
lay the treasure of all antiquity, and the everlasting seeds of
continual excellency in learning within this realm. But although in
those days many a precious jewel and ancient monument did utterly
perish (as at Canterbury that wonderful work of the sage and eloquent
Cicero, _De Republica_, and in many other places the like), yet if
in time great and speedy diligence be showed, the remnants of such
incredible a store, as well of writers theological as in all the other
liberal sciences, might yet be saved and recovered, which now in your
Grace’s realm being dispersed and scattered, yea, and many of them in
unlearned men’s hands, still even yet (in this time of reconciliation)
daily perish; and perchance are purposely by some envious person
enclosed in walls or buried in the ground.”
The scheme which accompanied this letter in 1556 was for the formation
of a national library, into which were to be gathered the original
manuscripts still left in England, which could be purchased or
otherwise obtained, or at least a copy of such as were in private
hands, and which the owners would not part with. Beyond this, John
Dee proposes that copies of the best manuscripts in Europe should be
secured. He mentions specially the libraries of the Vatican, and of St.
Mark’s, Venice, those at Florence, Bologna, and Vienna, and offers to
go himself, if his expenses are paid, to secure the transcripts.[67]
The plan, however, came to nothing, and with Mary’s death, the nation
was once more occupied in the religious controversies, which again
interfered with any real advance in scholarship.
One other point must not be overlooked. Before the rise of the
religious dissensions caused England to isolate herself from the rest
of the Catholic world, English students were to be found studying in
considerable numbers at the great centres of learning in Europe. An
immediate result of the change was to put a stop to this, which had
served to keep the country in touch with the best work being done
on the Continent, and the result of which had been seen in the able
English scholars produced by that means on the eve of the Reformation.
Taking a broad survey of the whole movement for the revival of letters
in England, it would appear then certain that whether we regard its
origin, or the forces which contributed to support it, or the men
chiefly concerned in it, it must be confessed that to the Church and
churchmen the country was indebted for the successes achieved. What put
a stop to the humanist movement here, as it certainly did in Germany,
was the rise of the religious difficulties, which, under the name of
the “New Learning,” was opposed by those most conspicuous for their
championship of true learning, scholarship, and education.
CHAPTER III
THE TWO JURISDICTIONS
The Reformation found men still occupied with questions as to the
limits of ecclesiastical and lay jurisdiction, which had troubled
their minds at various periods during the previous centuries. It is
impossible to read very deeply into the literature of the period
without seeing that, while on the one hand, all the fundamental
principles of the spiritual jurisdiction of the Church were fully
and freely recognised by all; on the other, a number of questions,
mainly in the broad borderland of debatable ground between the two,
were constantly being discussed, and not infrequently gave cause for
disagreements and misunderstandings. As in the history of earlier
times, so in the sixteenth century ecclesiastics clung, perhaps
not unnaturally, to what they regarded as their strict rights, and
looked on resistance to encroachment as a sacred duty. Laymen on
the other part, even when their absolute loyalty to the Church was
undoubted, were found in the ranks of those who claimed for the State
power to decide in matters not strictly pertaining to the spiritual
prerogatives, but which chiefly by custom had come to be regarded as
belonging to ecclesiastical domain. It is the more important that
attention should be directed in a special manner to these questions,
inasmuch as it will be found, speaking broadly, that the ultimate
success or ill-success of the strictly doctrinal changes raised in
the sixteenth century was determined by the issue of the discussions
raised on the question of mixed jurisdiction. This may not seem very
philosophical, but in the event it is proved to be roughly correct. The
reason is not very far to seek. In great measure at least, questions
of money and property, even of national interest and prosperity,
were intimately concerned in the matter in dispute. They touched the
people’s pocket; and whether rightly or wrongly, those who found the
money wished to have a say in its disposal. One thing cannot fail to
strike an inquirer into the literature of this period: the very small
number of people who were enthusiasts in the doctrinal matters with
which the more ardent reformers occupied themselves.
We are not here concerned with another and more delicate question as
to the papal prerogatives exercised in England. For clearness’ sake
in estimating the forces which made for change on the eve of the
Reformation, this subject must be examined in connection with the whole
attitude of England to Rome and the Pope in the sixteenth century. It
must, consequently, be understood that in trying here to illustrate the
attitude of men’s minds at this period to these important and practical
questions, a further point as to the claims of the Roman Pontiffs
in regard to some or all of them has yet to be considered. Even in
examining the questions at issue between the authorities--lay and
ecclesiastical--in the country, the present purpose is to record rather
than to criticise, to set forth the attitude of mind as it appears in
the literature of the period, rather than to weigh the reasons and
judge between the contending parties.
The lawyer, Christopher Saint-German, is a contemporary writer to
whom we naturally turn for information upon the points at issue. He,
of course, takes the layman’s side as to the right of the State to
interfere in all, or in most, questions which arise as to the dues
of clerics, and other temporalities, such as tithes, &c., which are
attached to the spiritual functions of the clergy. Moreover, beyond
claiming the right for the State so to interfere in the regulation of
all temporalities and kindred matters, Saint-German also held that in
some things in which custom had given sanction to the then practice,
it would be for the good of the State that it should do so. In his
_Dyalogue between a Student of Law and a Doctor of Divinity_,[68] his
views are put clearly; whilst the Doctor states, though somewhat lamely
perhaps, the position of the clergy.
To take the example of “mortuaries,” upon which the Parliament had
already legislated to the dismay of some of the ecclesiastical party,
who, as it appears, on the plea that the law was unjust and beyond
the competence of the State authority, tried in various ways to evade
the provisions of the Act, which was intended to relieve the laity of
exactions that, as they very generally believed, had grown into an
abuse. Christopher Saint-German holds that Parliament was quite within
its rights. The State could, and on occasion should, legislate as to
dues payable to the clergy, and settle whether ecclesiastics, who claim
articles in kind, or sums of money by prescriptive right, ought in
fact to be allowed them. There is, he admits, a difficulty; he does not
think that it would be competent for the State to prohibit specific
gifts to God’s service, or to say that only “so many tapers shall be
used at a funeral,” or that only so many priests may be bidden to the
burial, or that only so much may be given in alms. In matters of this
kind he does not think the State has jurisdiction to interfere. “But
it has,” he says, “the plain right to make a law, that there shall not
be given above so many black gowns, or that there shall be no herald
of arms” present, unless it is the funeral of one “of such a degree,”
or that “no black cloths should be hung in the streets from the house
where the person died, to the church, as is used in many cities and
good towns, or the prohibition of such other things as are but worldly
pomps, and are rather consolations to the friends that are alive, than
any relief to the departed soul.” In these and such like things, he
says: “I think the Parliament has authority to pass laws, so as to
protect the executors of wills, and relieve them from the necessity of
spending so much of the inheritance of the deceased man’s heirs.”[69]
In like manner the lawyer holds that in all strictly temporal matters,
whatever privilege and exemption the State may allow and has allowed
the clergy, it still possesses the radical power to legislate where
and when it sees fit. It does not in fact by lapse of time lose the
ordinary authority it possesses over all subjects of the realm in
these matters. Thus, for example, he holds that the State can and
should prohibit all lands in mortmain passing to the Church; and that,
should it appear to be a matter of public policy, Parliament might
prohibit and indeed break the appropriations of benefices already
made to monasteries, cathedrals, and colleges, and order that they
should return to their original purposes. “The advowson,” he says,
“is a temporal inheritance, and as such is under the Parliament to
order it as it sees cause.” This principle, he points out, had been
practically admitted when the Parliament, in the fourth year of Henry
IV., cancelled all appropriations of vicarages which had been made from
the beginning of Richard II.’s reign. It is indeed “good,” he adds,
“that the authority of the Parliament in this should be known, and that
it should cause them to observe such statutes as are already made, and
to distribute some part of the fruits (of the benefices) among poor
parishioners according to the statute of the twentieth year of King
Richard II.”
In the same way, and for similar reasons, Saint-German claims that the
State has full power to determine questions of “Sanctuary,” and to
legislate as to “benefit of clergy.” Such matters were, he contends,
only customs of the realm, and in no sense any point of purely
spiritual prerogative. Like every other custom of the realm, these
were subject to revision by the supreme secular authority. “The Pope
by himself,” he adds, “cannot make any Sanctuary in this realm.” This
question of “Sanctuary” rights was continually causing difficulties
between the lay and the ecclesiastical authorities. To the legal mind
the custom was certainly dangerous to the well-being of the State,
and made the administration of justice unnecessarily complicated,
especially when ecclesiastics pleaded their privileges, and strongly
resisted any attempt on the part of legal officials to ignore them.
Cases were by no means infrequent in the courts in the reigns of Henry
VII. and Henry VIII., which caused more or less friction between the
upholders of the two views.[70] To illustrate the state of conflict on
this, in itself a very minor matter, a trial which took place in London
in the year 1519 is here given in some detail. One John Savage in that
year was charged with murder. At the time of his arrest he was living
in St. John Street (Clerkenwell), and when brought to trial pleaded
that he had been wrongfully arrested in a place of Sanctuary belonging
to the Priory of St. John of Jerusalem. To justify his contention and
obtain his liberty, he called on the Prior of the Knights of St. John
to maintain his rights and privileges, and vindicate this claim of
Sanctuary. The prior appeared and produced the grant of Pope Urban
III., made by Bull dated in 1213, which had been ratified by King Henry
III. He also cited cases in which he alleged that in the reign of the
late King Henry VII. felons, who had been seized within the precincts,
had been restored to Sanctuary, and he therefore argued that this case
was an infringement of the rights of his priory.
Savage also declared that he was in St. John Street within the
precincts of the priory “pur amendement de son vie, durant son vie,”
when on the 8th of June an officer, William Rotte, and others took
him by force out of the place, and carried him away to the Tower. He
consequently claimed to be restored to the Sanctuary from which he had
been abducted. Chief-Justice Fineux, before whom the prisoner had been
brought, asked him whether he wished to “jeopardy” his case upon his
plea of Sanctuary, and, upon consultation, John Savage replied in the
negative, saying that he wished rather to throw himself upon the king’s
mercy. Fineux on this, said: “In this you are wise, for the privileges
of St. John’s will not aid you in the form in which you have pleaded
it. In reality it has no greater privilege of Sanctuary than every
parish church in the kingdom; that is, it has privileges for forty days
and no more, and in this it partakes merely of the common law of the
kingdom, and has no special privilege beyond this.”
Further, Fineux pointed out that even had St. John’s possessed the
Sanctuary the prior claimed, this right did not extend to the fields,
&c., but in the opinion of all the judges of the land, to which all the
bishops and clergy had assented, the bounds of any Sanctuary were the
church, cloister, and cemetery. Most certain it was that the _ambitus_
did not extend to gardens, barns, and stables, and in his (Fineux’s)
opinion, not even to the pantry and buttery. He quotes cases in support
of his opinion. In one instance a certain William Spencer claimed
the privilege of Sanctuary when in an orchard of the Grey Friars at
Coventry. In spite of the assertion of the guardian that the Pope had
extended the privilege to the whole enclosure, of which the place the
friars had to recreate themselves in was certainly a portion, the plea
was disallowed, and William Spencer was hanged.
In regard to the privilege of the forty days, Fineux declared that it
was so obviously against the common good and in derogation of justice,
that in his opinion it should not be suffered to continue, and he
quoted cases where it had been set aside. In several cases where
Papal privileges had been asserted, the judges had held “quant à les
Bulles du pape, le pape sans le Roy ne ad power de fayre sanctuarie.”
In other words, Fineux rejected the plea of the murderer Savage.
But the case did not stop here, both the prior and Savage, as we
should say, “appealed,” and the matter was heard in the presence of
Cardinal Wolsey, Fineux, Brudnell, and several members of the inner
Star Chamber. Dr. Potkyn, counsel for the Prior of St. John, pleaded
the “knowledge and allowance of the king” to prove the privilege. No
decision was arrived at, and a further sitting of the Star Chamber was
held on November 11, 1520, in the presence of the king, the cardinal,
all the judges, and divers bishops and canonists, as well as the
Prior of St. John and the Abbot of Westminster. Before the assembly
many examples of difficulties in the past were adduced by the judges.
These difficulties they declared increased so as to endanger the peace
and law of the country, by reason of the Sanctuaries of Westminster
and St. John’s. To effect a remedy was the chief reason of the royal
presence at the meeting. After long discussion it was declared that as
St. John’s Sanctuary was made, as it had been shown, by Papal Bull,
it was consequently void even if confirmed by the king’s patent, and
hence that the priory had no privilege at all except the common one of
forty days. The judges and all the canonists were quite clear that the
Pope’s right to make a Sanctuary had never been allowed in England, and
that every such privilege must come from the king. On the other hand,
the bishops present and all the clergy were equally satisfied that the
general forty days’ privilege belonged by right to every parish church.
The Abbot of Westminster then proved by the production of charters and
other indubitable evidence that the Sanctuary of Westminster had its
origin in the grants of various kings, and had only been blessed by the
Pope.
Fineux pointed out that Sanctuary grants had always been made to
monasteries and churches “to the laud and honour of God,” and that it
was not certainly likely to redound to God’s honour when men could
commit murder and felony, and trust to get into the safe precinct of
some Sanctuary; neither did he believe that to have bad houses in
Sanctuaries, and such like abuses, was either to the praise of God or
for the welfare of the kingdom. Further, that as regards Westminster,
the abbot had abused his privileges as to the _ambitus_ or precincts
which in law must be understood in the restricted sense. The cardinal
admitted that there had been abuses, and a Commission was proposed to
determine the reasonable bounds. Bishop Voysey, of Exeter, suggested
that if a Sanctuary man committed murder or felony outside, with
the hope of getting back again, the privilege of shelter should be
forfeited; but the majority were against this restriction. On the
whole, however, it was determined that for the good of the State the
uses of these Sanctuaries should be curtailed, and that none should be
allowed in law but such as could show a grant of the privilege from the
crown.[71]
In the opinion of many, of whom Saint-German was the spokesman, to go
to another matter, Parliament might assign “all the trees and grass in
churchyards either to the parson, to the vicar, or to the parish,” as
it thought fit; for although the ground was hallowed, the proceeds,
such as “trees and grass, are mere temporals, and as such must be
regulated by the power of the State.”
Moreover, according to the same view, whilst it would be outside the
province of the secular law to determine the cut of a priest’s cassock
or the shape of his tonsure, it could clearly determine that no priest
should wear cloth made out of the country, or costing above a certain
price; and it might fix the amount of salary to be paid to a chaplain
or curate.[72]
There were circumstances, too, under which, in the opinion of
Saint-German, Parliament not only could interfere to legislate about
clerical duties, but would be bound to do so. At the time when he was
writing, the eve of the Reformation, many things seemed to point to
this necessity for State interference. There were signs of widespread
religious differences in the world. “Why then,” he asks, “may not
the king and his Parliament, as well to strengthen the faith and give
health to the souls of many of his subjects, as to save his realm
being noted for heresy, seek for the reason of the division now in
the realm by diversity of sects and opinions?… They shall have great
reward before God that set their hands to prevent the great danger
to many souls of men as well spiritual as temporal if this division
continue long. And as far as I have heard, all the articles that are
misliked (are aimed) either against the worldly honour, worldly power,
or worldly riches of spiritual men. To express these articles I hold it
not expedient, and indeed if what some have reported be true, many of
them be so far against the truth that no Christian man would hold them
to be true, and they that do so do it for some other consideration.”[73]
As an example, our author takes the question of Purgatory, which he
believes is attacked because men want to free themselves from the
money offerings which belief in the doctrine necessitates. And indeed,
“if it were ordained by law,” he continues, “that every curate at the
death of any of their parishioners should be bound to say publicly for
their souls _Placebo_, _Dirige_ and mass, without taking anything for
(the service): and further that at a certain time, to be assigned by
Parliament, as say, once a month, or as it shall be thought convenient,
they shall do the same and pray for the souls of their parishioners and
for all Christian souls and for the king and all the realm: and also
that religious houses do in like manner, I fancy in a short time there
would be few to say there was no purgatory.”[74]
In some matters Saint-German considered that the State might reasonably
interfere in regard to the religious life. The State, he thinks, would
have no right whatever to prohibit religious vows altogether; but it
would be competent for the secular authority to lay down conditions to
prevent abuses and generally protect society where such protection was
needed. “It would be good,” for example, he writes, “to make a law that
no religious house should receive any child below a certain age into
the habit, and that he should not be moved from the place into which he
had been received without the knowledge and assent of friends.” This
would not be to prohibit religious life, which would not be a just law,
but only the laying down of conditions. In the fourth year of Henry IV.
the four Orders of Friars had such a law made for them; “when the four
Provincials of the said four Orders were sworn by laying their hands
upon their breasts in open Parliament to observe the said statute.”[75]
In the same way the State may, Saint-German thinks, lay down the
conditions for matrimony, so long as there was no “interference with
the sacrament of marriage.” Also, “as I suppose,” he says, “the
Parliament may well enact that every man that makes profit of any
offerings (coming) by recourse of pilgrims shall be bound under a
certain penalty not only to set up certain tables to instruct the
people how they shall worship the saints, but also cause certain
sermons to be yearly preached there to instruct the people, so that
through ignorance they do not rather displease than please the
saints.”[76]
The State “may also prohibit any miracle being noised abroad on such
slight evidence as they have been in some places in times past; and
that they shall not be set up as miracles, under a certain penalty, nor
reported as miracles by any one till they have been proved such in such
a manner as shall be appointed by Parliament. And it is not unlikely
that many persons grudge more at the abuse of pilgrimages than at the
pilgrimages themselves.” Parliament, he points out, has from time to
time vindicated its right to act in matters such as these. For example:
“To the strengthening of the faith it has enacted that no man shall
presume to preach without leave of his diocesan except certain persons
exempted in the statute” (2 Henry IV.).[77]
There are, Saint-German notes, many cases where it is by no means
clear whether they are strictly belonging to spiritual jurisdiction
or not. Could the law, for example, prohibit a bishop from ordaining
any candidate to Holy Orders who was not sufficiently learned? Could
the law which exempted priests from serving on any inquest or jury
be abrogated? These, and such like matters in the borderland, are
debatable questions; but Saint-German makes it clear that, according
to his view, it is a mistake for clerics to claim more exemptions from
the common law than is absolutely necessary. That there must be every
protection for their purely spiritual functions, he fully and cordially
admits; but when all this is allowed, in his opinion, it is a grave
mistake for the clergy, even from their point of view, to try and
stretch their immunities and exemptions beyond the required limit. The
less the clergy were made a “caste,” and the more they fell in with the
nation at large, the better it would be for all parties in the State.
On the question of tithe, Saint-German took the laymen’s view. To the
ecclesiastics of the period tithes were spiritual matters, and all
questions arising out of them should be settled by archbishop or bishop
in spiritual courts. The lawyer, on the other hand, maintained that
though given to secure spiritual services, in themselves tithes were
temporal, and therefore should fall under the administration of the
State. Who, for example, was to determine what was payable on new land,
and to whom; say on land recovered from the sea? In the first place,
according to the lawyer, it should be the owner of the soil who should
apportion the payment, and failing him, the Parliament, and not the
spirituality.
In another work[78] Saint-German puts his view more clearly. A tithe
that comes irregularly, say once in ten or twenty years, cannot be
considered necessary for the support of the clergy. That people were
bound to contribute to the just and reasonable maintenance of those
who serve the altar did not admit of doubt, but, he holds, a question
arises as to the justice of the amount in individual cases. “Though
the people be bound by the law of reason, and also the law of God,
to find their spiritual ministers a reasonable portion of goods to
live upon, yet that they shall pay precisely the tenth part to their
spiritual ministers in the name of that portion is but the law of man.”
If the tithe did not at any time suffice, “the people would be bound
to give more” in order to fulfil their Christian duty. Some authority
must determine, and in his opinion as a lawyer and a layman, the only
authority competent to deal with the matter, so far as the payment of
money was concerned, was the State; and consequently Parliament might,
and at times ought, to legislate about the payment of tithes.[79]
In a second _Treatise concerning the power of the clergy and the laws
of the realm_, Saint-German returns to this subject of the relation
between the two jurisdictions. This book, however, was published
after Henry VIII. had received his parliamentary title of Supreme
Head of the Church, and by that time the author’s views had naturally
become somewhat more advanced on the side of State power. In regard
to the king’s “Headship,” he declares that in reality it is nothing
new, but if properly understood would be recognised as implied in
the kingly power, and as having nothing whatever to do with the
spiritual prerogatives as such. He has been speaking of the writ, _de
excommunicato capiendo_, by which the State had been accustomed to
seize the person of one who had been excommunicated by the Church for
the purpose of punishment by the secular arm, and he argues that if the
Parliament were to abrogate the law, such a change would in no sense be
a derogation of the rights of the Church. Put briefly, the principle
upon which he bases this opinion is one which was made to apply to many
other cases besides this special one. It is this: that for a spiritual
offence no one ought in justice to be made to suffer in the temporal
order.[80] Whilst insisting on this, moreover, the lawyer maintained
that there were many things which had come to be regarded as spiritual,
which were, in reality, temporal, and that it would be better that
these should be altogether transferred to the secular arm of the State.
Such, for example, were, in his opinion, the proving and administration
of wills, the citation and consideration of cases of slander and libel
and other matters of this nature. “And there is no doubt,” he says,
“but that the Parliament may with a cause take that power from them
(_i.e._ the clergy), and might likewise have done so before it was
recognised by the Parliament and the clergy that the king was Head of
the Church of England; for he was so before the recognition was made,
just as all other Christian princes are in their own realms over all
their subjects, spiritual and temporal.”[81]
Moreover, as regards this, “it lieth in princes to appease all
variances and unquietness that shall arise among the people, by
whatsoever occasion it rise, spiritual or temporal. And the king’s
grace has now no new authority in that he is confessed by the clergy
and authorised by Parliament to be the Head of the Church of England.
For it is only a declaration of his first power committed by God to
kingly and regal authority and no new grant. Further, that, for all the
power that he has as Head of the Church, he has yet no authority to
minister any sacraments, nor to do any other spiritual thing whereof
our Lord gave power to His apostles and disciples only.… And there is
no doubt that such power as the clergy have by the immediate grant
of Christ, neither the king nor his Parliament can take from them,
although they may order the manner of the doing.”[82]
The question whether for grave offences the clergy could be tried by
the king’s judges was one which had long raised bitter feeling on the
one side and the other. In 1512, Parliament had done something to
vindicate the power of the secular arm by passing a law practically
confining the immunity of the clergy to those in sacred orders. It
ordained “that all persons hereafter committing murder or felony,
&c., should not be admitted to the benefit of clergy.” This act led to
a great dispute in the next Parliament, held in 1515. The clergy as
a body resented the statute as an infringement upon their rights and
privileges, and the Abbot of Winchcombe preached at St. Paul’s Cross to
this effect, declaring that the Lords Spiritual who had assented to the
measure had incurred ecclesiastical censures. He argued that all clerks
were in Holy Orders, and that they were consequently not amenable to
the secular tribunals.
The king, at the request of many of the Temporal Lords and several
of the Commons, ordered the case to be argued at a meeting held at
Blackfriars at which the judges were present. At this debate, Dr.
Henry Standish, a Friar Minor, defended the action of Parliament, and
maintained that it was a matter of public policy that clerks guilty of
such offences should be tried by the ordinary process of law. In reply
to the assertion that there was a decree or canon forbidding it, and
that all Christians were bound by the canons under pain of mortal sin,
Standish said: “God forbid; for there is a decree that all bishops
should be resident at their cathedrals upon every festival day, and yet
we see the greater part of the English bishops practise the contrary.”
Moreover, he maintained that the right of exemption of clerks from
secular jurisdiction had never been allowed in England. The bishops
were unanimously against the position of Standish, and there can be
little doubt that they had put forward the Abbot of Winchcombe to be
their spokesman at St. Paul’s Cross. Later on, Standish was charged
before Convocation with holding tenets derogatory to the privileges
and jurisdiction of ecclesiastics. He claimed the protection of the
king, and the Temporal Lords and judges urged the king at all costs to
maintain his right of royal jurisdiction in the matters at issue.
Again a meeting of judges, certain members of Parliament, and the
king’s council, spiritual and temporal, were assembled to deliberate on
the matter at the Blackfriars. Dr. Standish was supposed to have said
that the lesser Orders were not Holy, and that the exemption of clerks
was not _de jure divino_. These opinions he practically admitted,
saying with regard to the first that there was a great difference
between the greater Orders and the lesser; and in regard to the second,
“that the summoning of clerks before temporal judges implied no
repugnance to the positive law of God.” He further partially admitted
saying that “the study of canon law ought to be laid aside, because
being but ministerial to divinity it taught people to despise that
nobler science.” The judges decided generally against the contention
of the clergy, and they, with other lords, met the king at Baynard’s
Castle to tender their advice on the matter. Here Wolsey, kneeling
before the king, declared “that he believed none of the clergy had any
intention to disoblige the prerogative royal, that for his part he owed
all his promotion to his Highness’ favour, and therefore would never
assent to anything that should lessen the rights of the Crown.” But
“that this business of conventing clerks before temporal judges was,
in the opinion of the clergy, directly contrary to the laws of God and
the liberties of Holy Church, and that both himself and the rest of the
prelates were bound by their oath to maintain this exemption. For this
reason he entreated the king, in the name of the clergy, to refer the
matter for decision to the Pope.” Archbishop Warham added that in old
times some of the fathers of the Church had opposed the matter so far
as to suffer martyrdom in the quarrel. On the other hand, Judge Fineux
pointed out that spiritual judges had no right by any statute to judge
any clerk for felony, and for this reason many churchmen had admitted
the competence of the secular courts for this purpose.
The king finally replied on the whole case. “By the Providence of God,”
he said, “we are King of England, in which realm our predecessors
have never owned a superior, and I would have you (the clergy) take
notice that we are resolved to maintain the rights of our crown and
temporal jurisdiction in as ample manner as any of our progenitors.”
In conclusion, the Archbishop of Canterbury petitioned the king in the
name of the clergy for the matter to rest till such time as they could
lay the case before the See of Rome for advice, promising that if the
non-exemption of clerks was declared not to be against the law of God,
they would willingly conform to the usage of the country.
On this whole question, Saint-German maintained that the clergy had
been granted exemption from the civil law not as a right but as a
favour. There was, in his opinion, nothing whatever in the nature of
the clerical state to justify any claim to absolute exemption, nor was
it, he contended, against the law of God that the clergy should be
tried for felony and other crimes by civil judges. In all such things
they, like the rest of his people, were subject to their prince,
who, because he was a Christian, did not, for that reason, have any
diminished authority over his subjects. “Christ,” he remarks, “sent His
apostles,” as appears from the said words, “to be teachers in spiritual
matters, and not to be like princes, or to take from princes their
power.”[83] Some, indeed, he says, argue that since the coming of our
Lord “Christian princes have derived their temporal power from the
spiritual power,” established by Him in right of His full and complete
dominion over the world. But Saint-German not only holds that such a
claim has no foundation in itself, but that all manner of texts of Holy
Scripture which are adduced in proof of the contention are plainly
twisted from their true meaning by the spiritual authority. And many,
he says, talk as if the clergy were the Church, and the Church the
clergy, whereas they are only one portion, perhaps the most important,
and possessed of greater and special functions; but they were not the
whole, and were, indeed, endowed with these prerogatives for the use
and benefit of the lay portion of Christ’s Church.
Contrary to what might have been supposed, the difficulty between
the clergy and laity about the exemption of clerics from all lay
jurisdiction did not apparently reach any very acute stage. Sir Thomas
More says that “as for the conventing of priests before secular
judges, the truth is that at one time the occasion of a sermon made the
matter come to a discussion before the king’s Highness. But neither at
any time since, nor many years before, I never heard that there was any
difficulty about it, and, moreover, that matter ceased long before any
word sprang up about this great general division.”[84]
One question, theoretical indeed, but sufficiently practical to
indicate the current of thought and feeling prevalent at the time, was
as to the multiplication of holidays on which no work was allowed to be
done by ecclesiastical law. Saint-German, in common with other laymen
of the period, maintained that the king, or Parliament, as representing
the supreme will of the State, could refuse to allow the spiritual
authority to make new holidays. About the Sunday he is doubtful, though
he inclines to the opinion that so long as there was one day in the
week set apart for rest and prayer, the actual day could be determined
by the State. The Sunday, he says, is partly by the law of God, partly
by the law of man. “But as for the other holidays, these are but
ceremonies, introduced by the devotion of the people through the good
example of their bishops and priests.” And “if the multitude of the
holidays is thought hurtful to the commonwealth, and tending rather to
increase vice than virtue, or to give occasion of pride rather than
meekness, as peradventure the synod ales and particular holidays have
done in some places, then Parliament has good authority to reform
it. But as for the holidays that are kept in honour of Our Lady, the
Apostles and other ancient Saints, these seem right necessary and
expedient.”[85]
In his work, _Salem and Bizance_, which appeared in 1533 as a reply
to Sir Thomas More’s _Apology_, Saint-German takes up the same ground
as in his more strictly legal tracts. He holds that a distinction
between the purely spiritual functions of the clergy and their position
as individuals in the State ought to be allowed and recognised. The
attitude of ecclesiastics generally to such a view was, perhaps not
unnaturally, one of opposition, and where the State had already stepped
in and legislated, as for instance in the case of “mortuaries,” their
action in trying to evade the prescription of the law, Saint-German
declared was doing much harm, in emphasising a needless conflict
between the ecclesiastical and secular jurisdiction. “As long,” he
writes, “as spiritual rulers will pretend that their authority is so
high and so immediately derived from God that people are bound to
obey them and to accept all that they do and teach without argument,
resistance, or murmuring against them” there will be discord and
difficulty.[86]
Christopher Saint-German’s position was not by any means that of one
who would attack the clergy all along the line, and deprive them of
all power and influence, like so many of the foreign sectaries of the
time. He admitted, and indeed insisted on, the fact that they had
received great and undoubted powers by their high vocation, having
their spiritual jurisdiction immediately from God. Their temporalities,
however, he maintained they received from the secular power, and were
protected by the State in their possession. He fully agreed “that such
things as the whole clergy of Christendom teach and order in spiritual
things, and which of long time have been by long custom and usage in
the whole body of Christendom ratified, agreed, and confirmed, by the
spirituality and temporality, ought to be received with reverence.”[87]
To this part of Saint-German’s book Sir Thomas More takes exception
in his _Apology_. The former had said, that as long as the spiritual
rulers will pretend that their authority is so high and so immediately
derived from God that the people are bound to obey them and accept
all that they do and teach “there would certainly be divisions and
dissensions.” “If he mean,” replies More, “that they speak thus of all
their whole authority that they may now lawfully do and say at this
time: I answer that they neither pretend, nor never did, that all their
authority is given them immediately by God. They have authority now
to do divers things by the grant of kings and princes, just as many
temporal men also have, and by such grants they have such rights in
such things as temporal men have in theirs.”[88]
Some authority and power they certainly have from God, he says, “For
the greatest and highest and most excellent authority that they
have, either God has Himself given it to them, or else they are very
presumptuous and usurp many things far above all reason. For I have
never read, or at least I do not remember to have read, that any king
granted them the authority that now not only prelates but other poor
plain priests daily take on them in ministering the sacraments and
consecrating the Blessed Body of Christ.”[89]
Another popular book of the period, published by Berthelet, just on the
eve of the Reformation, is the anonymous _Dialogue between a Knight
and a Clerk concerning the power spiritual and temporal_. We are not
here concerned with the author’s views as to the power of the Popes,
but only with what he states about the attitude of men’s minds to the
difficulties consequent upon the confusion of the two jurisdictions.
_Miles_ (the Knight), who, of course, took the part of the upholder of
the secular power, clearly distinguished, like Saint-German, between
directly spiritual prerogatives and the authority and position assured
to the clergy by the State. “God forbid,” he says, “that I should deny
the right of Holy Church to know and correct men for their sins. Not
to hold this would be to deny the sacrament of Penance and Confession
altogether.”[90] Moreover, like Saint-German, this author, in the
person of _Miles_, insists that the temporality “are bound to find the
spirituality that worship and serve God all that is necessary for them.
For so do all nations.”[91] But the direction of such temporalities
must, he contends, be in the hands of the State. “What,” asks the
conservative cleric, in the person of _Clericus_, “What have princes
and kings to do with the governance of our temporalities? Let them take
their own and order their own, and suffer us to be in peace with ours.”
“Sir,” replies _Miles_, “the princes must in any wise have to do
therewith. I pray you, ought not men above all things to mind the
health of our souls? Ought not we to see the wills of our forefathers
fulfilled? Falleth it not to you to pray for our forefathers that
are passed out of this life? And did not our fathers give you our
temporalities right plentifully, to the intent that you should pray
for them and spend it all to the honour of God? And ye do nothing so;
but ye spend your temporalities in sinful deeds and vanities, which
temporalities ye should spend in works of charity, and in alms-deeds to
the poor and needy. For to this purpose our forefathers gave ‘great and
huge dominions.’ You have received them ‘to the intent to have clothes
and food … and all overplus besides these you ought to spend on deeds
of mercy and pity, as on poor people that are in need, and on such as
are sick and diseased and oppressed with misery.’”[92]
Further, _Miles_ hints that there are many at that time who were
casting hungry eyes upon the riches of the Church, and that were it
not for the protecting power of the State, the clergy would soon find
that they were in worse plight than they think themselves to be. And,
in answer to the complaints of _Clericus_ that ecclesiastics are taxed
too hardly for money to be spent on soldiers, ships, and engines of
war, he tells him that there is no reason in the nature of things why
ecclesiastical property should not bear the burden of national works
as well as every other kind of wealth. “I pray you hold your noise,”
he exclaims somewhat rudely; “stop your grudging and grumbling, and
listen patiently. Look at your many neighbours round about you in the
land, who, wanting the wherewith to support life, gape still after your
goods. If the king’s power failed, what rest should you have? Would not
the gentlemen such as be needy, and such as have spent their substance
prodigally, when they have consumed their own, turn to yours, and waste
and destroy all you have? Therefore, the king’s strength is to you
instead of a strong wall, and you wot well that the king’s peace is
your peace, and the king’s safeguard is your safeguard.”[93]
The foregoing pages represent some of the practical difficulties
which were being experienced on the eve of the Reformation between
the ecclesiastical and lay portion of the State in the question of
jurisdiction. Everything points to the fact that the chief difficulty
was certainly not religious. The ecclesiastical jurisdiction in
matters spiritual was cordially admitted by all but a few fanatics.
What even many churchmen objected to, were the claims for exemption
put forward by ecclesiastics in the name of religion, which they
felt to be a stretching of spiritual prerogatives into the domain of
the temporal sovereign. History has shown that most of these claims
have in practice been disallowed, not only without detriment to the
spiritual work of the Church, but in some instances at least it was the
frank recognition of the State rights, which, under Providence, saved
nations from the general defection which seemed to threaten the old
ecclesiastical system. Most of the difficulties which were, as we have
seen, experienced and debated in England were unfelt in Spain, where
the sovereign from the first made his position as to the temporalities
of the Church clearly understood by all. In Naples, in like manner, the
right of State patronage, however objectionable to the ecclesiastical
legists, was strictly maintained. In France, the danger which at one
time threatened an overthrow of religion similar to that which had
fallen on Germany, and which at the time was looming dark over England,
was averted by the celebrated Concordat between Leo X. and Francis
I. By this settlement of outstanding difficulties between the two
jurisdictions, all rights of election to ecclesiastical dignities
was swept away with the full and express sanction of the Pope. The
nomination of all bishops and other dignitaries was vested in the king,
subject, of course, to Papal confirmation. All appeals were, in the
first place, to be carried in ordinary cases to immediate superiors
acting in the fixed tribunals of the country, and then only to the Holy
See. The Papal power of appointment to benefices was by this agreement
strictly limited; and the policy of the document was generally directed
to securing the most important ecclesiastical positions, including even
parish churches in towns, to educated men. It is to this settlement of
outstanding difficulties, the constant causes of friction--a settlement
of difficulties which must be regarded as economic and administrative
rather than as religious--that so good a judge as M. Hanotaux, the
statesman and historian, attributes nothing less than the maintenance
of the old religion in France. In his opinion, this Concordat did in
fact remove, to a great extent, the genuine grievances which had long
been felt by the people at large, which elsewhere the Reformers of the
sixteenth century skilfully seized upon, as likely to afford them the
most plausible means for furthering their schemes of change in matters
strictly religious.
CHAPTER IV
ENGLAND AND THE POPE
Nothing is more necessary for one who desires to appreciate the true
meaning of the English Reformation than to understand the attitude of
men’s minds to the Pope and the See of Rome on the eve of the great
change. As in the event, the religious upheaval did, in fact, lead
to a national rejection of the jurisdiction of the Roman Pontiff,
it is not unnatural that those who do not look below the surface
should see in this act the outcome and inevitable consequence of
long-continued irritation at a foreign domination. The renunciation
of Papal jurisdiction, in other words, is taken as sufficient
evidence of national hostility to the Holy See. If this be the true
explanation of the fact, it is obvious that in the literature of the
period immediately preceding the formal renunciation of ecclesiastical
dependence on Rome, evidence more or less abundant will be found of
this feeling of dislike, if not of detestation, for a yoke which we are
told had become unbearable.
At the outset, it must be confessed that any one who will go to the
literature of the period with the expectation of collecting evidence
of this kind is doomed to disappointment. If we put on one side the
diatribes and scurrilous invectives of advanced reformers, when the
day of the doctrinal Reformation had already dawned, the inquirer in
this field of knowledge can hardly fail to be struck by the absence of
indications of any real hostility to the See of Rome in the period in
question. So far as the works of the age are concerned: so far, too, as
the acts of individuals and even of those who were responsible agents
of the State go, the evidence of an unquestioned acceptance of the
spiritual jurisdiction of the Pope, as Head of the Christian Church, is
simply overwhelming. In their acceptance of this supreme authority the
English were perhaps neither demonstrative nor loudly protesting, but
this in no way derogated from their loyal and unquestioning acceptance
of the supremacy of the Holy See. History shows that up to the very
eve of the rejection of this supremacy the attitude of Englishmen, in
spite of difficulties and misunderstandings, had been persistently one
of respect for the Pope as their spiritual head. Whilst other nations
of Christendom had been in the past centuries engaged in endeavours by
diplomacy, and even by force of arms, to capture the Pope that they
might use him for their own national profit, England, with nothing to
gain, expecting nothing, seeking nothing, had never entered on that
line of policy, but had been content to bow to his authority as to
that of the appointed Head of Christ’s Church on earth. Of this much
there can be no doubt. They did not reason about it, nor sift and sort
the grounds of their acceptance, any more than a child would dream of
searching into, or philosophising upon, the obedience he freely gives
to his parents.
That there were at times disagreements and quarrels may be admitted
without in the least affecting the real attitude and uninterrupted
spiritual dependence of England on the Holy See. Such disputes were
wholly the outcome of misunderstandings as to matters in the domain
rather of the temporal than of the spiritual, or of points in the broad
debatable land that lies between the two jurisdictions. It is a failure
to understand the distinction which exists between these that has led
many writers to think that in the rejection by Englishmen of claims put
forward at various times by the Roman curia in matters wholly temporal,
or where the temporal became involved in the spiritual, they have a
proof that England never fully acknowledged the spiritual headship of
the See of Rome.
That the Pope did in fact exercise great powers in England over and
above those in his spiritual prerogative is a matter of history. No one
has more thoroughly examined this subject than Professor Maitland, and
the summary of his conclusions given in his _History of English Law_
will serve to correct many misconceptions upon the matter. What he says
may be taken as giving a fairly accurate picture of the relations of
the Christian nations of Christendom to the Holy See from the twelfth
century to the disintegration of the system in the throes of the
Reformation. “It was a wonderful system,” he writes. “The whole of
Western Europe was subject to the jurisdiction of one tribunal of last
resort, the Roman curia. Appeals to it were encouraged by all manner
of means, appeals at almost every stage of almost every proceeding.
But the Pope was far more than the president of a court of appeal.
Very frequently the courts Christian which did justice in England
were courts which were acting under his supervision and carrying out
his written instructions. A very large part, and by far the most
permanently important part, of the ecclesiastical litigation that went
on in this country came before English prelates who were sitting not as
English prelates, not as ‘judges ordinary,’ but as mere delegates of
the Pope, commissioned to hear and determine this or that particular
case. Bracton, indeed, treats the Pope as the ordinary judge of every
Englishman in spiritual things, and the only ordinary judge whose
powers are unlimited.”
The Pope enjoyed a power of declaring the law to which but very wide
and very vague limits could be set. Each separate church might have its
customs, but there was a _lex communis_, a common law, of the universal
Church. In the view of the canonist, any special rules of the Church of
England have hardly a wider scope, hardly a less dependent place, than
have the customs of Kent or the bye-laws of London in the eye of the
English lawyer.[94]
We have only to examine the _Regesta_ of the Popes, even up to the dawn
of difficulties in the reign of Henry VIII., to see that the system
as sketched in this passage was in full working order; and it was
herein that chiefly lay the danger even to the spiritual prerogatives
of the Head of the Church. Had the Providence of God destined that
the nations of the world should have become a Christendom in fact--a
theocracy presided over by his Vicar on earth--the system elaborated by
the Roman curia would not have tended doubtless to obscure the real and
essential prerogatives of the spiritual Head of the Christian Church.
As it was by Providence ordained, and as subsequent events have shown,
claims of authority to determine matters more or less of the temporal
order, together with the worldly pomp and show with which the Popes of
the renaissance had surrounded themselves, not only tended to obscure
the higher and supernatural powers which are the enduring heritage
of St. Peter’s successors in the See of Rome; but, however clear the
distinction between the necessary and the accidental prerogatives might
appear to the mind of the trained theologian or the perception of the
saint, to the ordinary man, when the one was called in question the
other was imperilled. And, as a fact, in England popular irritation at
the interference of the spirituality generally in matters not wholly
within the strictly ecclesiastical sphere was, at a given moment,
skilfully turned by the small reforming party into national, if tacit,
acquiescence in the rejection of even the spiritual prerogatives of the
Roman Pontiffs.
It is necessary to insist upon this matter if the full meaning of the
Reformation movement is to be understood. Here in England, there can
be no doubt, on the one hand, that no nation more fully and freely
bowed to the spiritual supremacy of the Holy See; on the other, that
there was a dislike of interference in matters which they regarded,
rightly or wrongly, as outside the sphere of the Papal prerogative.
The national feeling had grown by leaps and bounds in the early years
of the sixteenth century. But it was not until the ardent spirits
among the doctrinal reformers had succeeded in weakening the hold of
Catholicity in religion on the hearts of the people that this rise of
national feeling entered into the ecclesiastical domain, and the love
of country could be effectually used to turn them against the Pope,
even as Head of the Christian Church. With this distinction clearly
before the mind, it is possible to understand the general attitude of
the English nation to the Pope and his authority on the eve of the
overthrow of his jurisdiction.
To begin with some evidence of popular teaching as to the Pope’s
position as Head of the Church. It is, of course, evident that in many
works the supremacy of the Holy See is assumed and not positively
stated. This is exactly what we should expect in a matter which was
certainly taken for granted by all. William Bond, a learned priest, and
subsequently a monk of Syon, with Richard Whitford, was the author of
a book called the _Pilgrimage of Perfection_, published by Wynkyn de
Worde in 1531. It is a work, as the author tells us, “very profitable
to all Christian persons to read”; and the third book consists of a
long and careful explanation of the Creed. In the section treating
about the tenth article is to be found a very complete statement of
the teaching of the Christian religion on the Church. After taking
the marks of the Church, the author says: “There may be set no other
foundation for the Church, but only that which is put, namely, Christ
Jesus. It is certain, since it is founded on the Apostles, as our Lord
said to Peter, ‘I have prayed that thy faith fail not.’ And no more it
shall; for (as St. Cyprian says) the Church of Rome was never yet the
root of heresy. This Church Apostolic is so named the Church of Rome,
because St. Peter and St. Paul, who under Christ were heads and princes
of this Church, deposited there the tabernacles of their bodies, which
God willed should be buried there and rest in Rome, and that should be
the chief see in the world; just as commonly in all other places the
chief see of the bishop is where the chief saint and bishop of the see
is buried. By this you may know how Christ is the Head of the Church,
and how our Holy Father the Pope of Rome is Head of the Church. Many,
because they know not this mystery of Holy Scripture, have erred and
fallen to heresies in denying the excellent dignity of our Holy Father
the Pope of Rome.”[95]
In the same way Roger Edgworth, a preacher in the reign of Henry VIII.,
speaking on the text “_Tu vocaberis Cephas_,” says: “And by this the
error and ignorance of certain summalists are confounded, who take
this text as one of their strongest reasons for the supremacy of the
Pope of Rome. In so doing, such summalists would plainly destroy the
text of St. John’s Gospel to serve their purpose, which they have no
need to do, for there are as well texts of Holy Scripture and passages
of ancient writers which abundantly prove the said primacy of the
Pope.”[96]
When by 1523 the attacks of Luther and his followers on the position
of the Pope had turned men’s minds in England to the question, and
caused them to examine into the grounds of their belief, several books
on the subject appeared in England. One in particular, intended to
be subsidiary to the volume published by the king himself against
Luther, was written by a theologian named Edward Powell, and published
by Pynson in London. In his preface, Powell says that before printing
his work he had submitted it to the most learned authority at Oxford
(_eruditissimo Oxoniensium_). The first part of the book is devoted to
a scientific treatise upon the Pope’s supremacy, with all the proofs
from Scripture and the Fathers set out in detail. “This then,” he
concludes, “is the Catholic Church, which, having the Roman Pontiff,
the successor of Peter, as its head, offers the means of sanctifying
the souls of all its members, and testifies to the truth of all that
is to be taught.” The high priesthood of Peter “is said to be Roman,
not because it cannot be elsewhere, but through a certain congruity
which makes Rome the most fitting place. That is, that where the
centre of the world’s government was, there also should be placed the
high priesthood of Christ. Just as of old the summus Pontifex was in
Jerusalem, the metropolis of the Jewish nation, so now it is in Rome,
the centre of Christian civilisation.”[97]
We naturally, of course, turn to the works of Sir Thomas More for
evidence of the teaching as to the Pope’s position at this period; and
his testimony is abundant and definite. Thus in the second book of his
_Dyalogue_, written in 1528, arguing that there must be unity in the
Church of Christ, he points out that the effect of Lutheranism has
been to breed diversity of faith and practice. “Though they began so
late,” he writes, “yet there are not only as many sects almost as men,
but also the masters themselves change their minds and their opinions
every day. Bohemia is also in the same case: one faith in the town,
another in the field; one in Prague, another in the next town; and yet
in Prague itself, one faith in one street, another in the next. And yet
all these acknowledge that they cannot have the Sacraments ministered
but by such priests as are made by authority derived and conveyed from
the Pope who is, under Christ, Vicar and head of our Church.”[98] It
is important to note in this passage how the author takes for granted
the Pope’s supreme authority over the Christian Church. To this subject
he returns, and is more explicit in a later chapter of the same book.
The Church, he says, is the “company and congregation of all nations
professing the name of Christ.” This church “has begun with Christ, and
has had Him for its head and St. Peter His Vicar after Him, and the
head under Him; and always since, the successors of him continually.
And it has had His holy faith and His blessed Sacraments and His holy
Scriptures delivered, kept, and conserved therein by God and His Holy
Spirit, and albeit some nations fall away, yet just as no matter how
many boughs whatever fall from the tree, even though more fall than be
left thereon, still there is no doubt which is the very tree, although
each of them were planted again in another place and grew to a greater
than the stock it first came off, in the same way we see and know well
that all the companies and sects of heretics and schismatics, however
great they grow, come out of this Church I speak of; and we know that
the heretics are they that are severed, and the Church the stock that
they all come out of.”[99] Here Sir Thomas More expressly gives
communion with the successors of St. Peter as one of the chief tests of
the true Church.
Again, in his _Confutation of Tyndale’s Answer_, written in 1532
when he was Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More speaks specially about
the absolute necessity of the Church being One and not able to teach
error. There is one known and recognised Church existing throughout
the world, which “is that mystical body be it never so sick.” Of this
mystical body “Christ is the principal head”; and it is no part of his
concern, he says, for the moment to determine “whether the successor
of St. Peter is his vicar-general and head under him, as all Christian
nations have now long taken him.”[100] Later on he classes himself with
“poor popish men,”[101] and in the fifth book he discusses the question
“whether the Pope and his sect” (as Tyndale called them) “is Christ’s
Church or no.” On this matter More is perfectly clear. “I call the
Church of Christ,” he says, “the known Catholic Church of all Christian
nations, neither gone out nor cut off. And although all these nations
do now and have long since recognised and acknowledged the Pope, not as
the bishop of Rome but as the successor of St. Peter, to be their chief
spiritual governor under God and Christ’s Vicar on earth, yet I never
put the Pope as part of the definition of the Church, by defining it
to be the common known congregation of all Christian nations under one
head the Pope.”
I avoided this definition purposely, he continues, so as not “to
entangle the matter with the two questions at once, for I knew well
that the Church being proved this common known Catholic congregation
of all Christian nations abiding together in one faith, neither fallen
nor cut off; there might, peradventure, be made a second question after
that, whether over all this Catholic Church the Pope must needs be
head and chief governor and chief spiritual shepherd, or whether, if
the unity of the faith was kept among them all, every province might
have its own spiritual chief over itself, without any recourse unto the
Pope.…
“For the avoiding of all such intricacies, I purposely abstained from
putting the Pope as part of the definition of the Church, as a thing
that was not necessary; for if he be the necessary head, he is included
in the name of the whole body, and whether he be or not is a matter to
be treated and disputed of besides” (p. 615). As to Tyndale’s railing
against the authority of the Pope because there have been “Popes that
have evil played their parts,” he should remember, says More, that
“there have been Popes again right holy men, saints and martyrs too,”
and that, moreover, the personal question of goodness or badness has
nothing to say to the office.[102]
In like manner, More, when arguing against Friar Barnes, says that
like the Donatists “these heretics call the Catholic Christian people
papists,” and in this they are right, since “Saint Austin called the
successor of Saint Peter the chief head on earth of the whole Catholic
Church, as well as any man does now.” He here plainly states his view
of the supremacy of the See of Rome.[103] He accepted it not only as
an antiquarian fact, but as a thing necessary for the preservation
of the unity of the Faith. Into the further question whether the
office of supreme pastor was established by Christ Himself, or, as
theologians would say, _de jure divino_, or whether it had grown with
the growth and needs of the Church, More did not then enter. The fact
was sufficient for him that the only Christian Church he recognised had
for long ages regarded the Pope as the _Pastor pastorum_, the supreme
spiritual head of the Church of Christ. His own words, almost at the
end of his life, are the best indication of his mature conclusion on
this matter. “I have,” he says, “by the grace of God, been always a
Catholic, never out of communion with the Roman Pontiff; but I have
heard it said at times that the authority of the Roman Pontiff was
certainly lawful and to be respected, but still an authority derived
from human law, and not standing upon a divine prescription. Then, when
I observed that public affairs were so ordered that the sources of the
power of the Roman Pontiff would necessarily be examined, I gave myself
up to a diligent examination of that question for the space of seven
years, and found that the authority of the Roman Pontiff, which you
rashly--I will not use stronger language--have set aside, is not only
lawful to be respected and necessary, but also grounded on the divine
law and prescription. That is my opinion, that is the belief in which,
by the grace of God, I shall die.”[104]
Looking at More’s position in regard to this question in the light of
all that he has written, it would seem to be certain that he never
for a moment doubted that the Papacy was necessary for the Church. He
accepted this without regard to the reasons of the faith that was in
him, and in this he was not different from the body of Englishmen at
large. When, in 1522, the book by Henry VIII. appeared against Luther,
it drew the attention of Sir Thomas specially to a consideration of the
grounds upon which the supremacy of the Pope was held by Catholics. As
the result of his examination he became so convinced that it was of
divine institution that “my conscience would be in right great peril,”
he says, “if I should follow the other side and deny the primacy to
be provided of God.” Even before examination More evidently held
implicitly the same ideas, since in his Latin book against Luther,
published in 1523, he declared his entire agreement with Bishop Fisher
on the subject. That the latter was fully acquainted with the reasons
which went to prove that the Papacy was of divine institution, and that
he fully accepted it as such, is certain.[105]
When, with the failure of the divorce proceedings, came the rejection
of Papal supremacy in England, there were plenty of people ready
to take the winning side, urging that the rejection was just, and
not contrary to the true conception of the Christian Church. It is
interesting to note that in all the pulpit tirades against the Pope
and what was called his “usurped supremacy,” there is no suggestion
that this supremacy had not hitherto been fully and freely recognised
by all in the country. On the contrary, the change was regarded as a
happy emancipation from an authority which had been hitherto submitted
to without question or doubt. A sermon preached at St. Paul’s the
Sunday after the execution of the Venerable Bishop Fisher, and a few
days before Sir Thomas More was called to lay down his life for the
same cause, is of interest, as specially making mention of these two
great men, and of the reasons which had forced them to lay down their
lives in the Pope’s quarrel. The preacher was one Simon Matthew,
and his object was to instruct the people in the new theory of the
Christian Church necessary on the rejection of the headship of the
Pope. “The diversity of regions and countries,” he says, “does not
make any diversity of churches, but a unity of faith makes all regions
one Church.” “There was,” he continued, “no necessity to know Peter,
as many have reckoned, in the Bishop of Rome, (teaching) that except
we knew him and his holy college, we could not be of Christ’s Church.
Many have thought it necessary that if a man would be a member of the
Church of Christ, he must belong to the holy church of Rome and take
the Holy Father thereof for the supreme Head and for the Vicar of
Christ, yea for Christ Himself, (since) to be divided from him was even
to be divided from Christ.” This, the preacher informs his audience, is
“damnable teaching,” and that “the Bishop of Rome has no more power by
the laws of God in this realm than any foreign bishop.”
He then goes on to speak of what was, no doubt, in everybody’s mind at
the time, the condemnation of the two eminent Englishmen for upholding
the ancient teachings as to the Pope’s spiritual headship. “Of late,”
he says, “you have had experience of some, whom neither friends nor
kinsfolk, nor the judgment of both universities, Cambridge and Oxford,
nor the universal consent of all the clergy of this realm, nor the laws
of the Parliament, nor their most natural and loving prince, could by
any gentle ways revoke from their disobedience, but would needs persist
therein, giving pernicious occasion to the multitude to murmur and
grudge at the king’s laws, seeing that they were men of estimation and
would be seen wiser than all the realm and of better conscience than
others, justifying themselves and condemning all the realm besides.
These being condemned and the king’s prisoners, yet did not cease to
conceive ill of our sovereign, refusing his laws, but even in prison
wrote to their mutual comfort in their damnable opinions. I mean
Doctor Fisher and Sir Thomas More, whom I am as sorry to name as any
man here is to hear named: sorry for that they, being sometime men of
worship and honour, men of famous learning and many excellent graces
and so tenderly sometime beloved by their prince, should thus unkindly,
unnaturally, and traitorously use themselves. Our Lord give them grace
to be repentant! Let neither their fame, learning, nor honour move you
loving subjects from your prince; but regard ye the truth.”
The preacher then goes on to condemn the coarse style of preaching
against the Pope in which some indulged at that time. “I would exhort,”
he says, “such as are of my sort and use preaching, so to temper their
words that they be not noted to speak of stomach and rather to prate
than preach. Nor would I have the defenders of the king’s matters rage
and rail, or scold, as many are thought to do, calling the Bishop of
Rome the ‘harlot of Babylon’ or ‘the beast of Rome,’ with many such
other, as I have heard some say; these be meeter to preach at Paul’s
Wharf than at Paul’s Cross.”[106]
The care that was taken at this time in sermons to the people to
decry the Pope’s authority, as well as the abuse which was hurled at
his office, is in reality ample proof of the popular belief in his
supremacy, which it was necessary to eradicate from the hearts of
the English people. Few, probably, would have been able to state the
reason for their belief; but that the spiritual headship was fully and
generally accepted as a fact is, in view of the works of the period,
not open to question. Had there been disbelief, or even doubt, as to
the matter, some evidence of this would be forthcoming in the years
that preceded the final overthrow of Papal jurisdiction in England.
Nor are direct declarations of the faith of the English Church wanting.
To the evidence already adduced, a sermon preached by Bishop Longland
in 1527, before the archbishops and bishops of England in synod at
Westminster, may be added. The discourse is directed against the
errors of Luther and the social evils to which his teaching had led in
Germany. The English bishops, Bishop Longland declares, are determined
to do all in their power to preserve the English Church from this
evil teaching, and he exhorts all to pray that God will not allow the
universal and chief Church--the Roman Church--to be further afflicted,
that He will restore liberty to the most Holy Father and high-priest
now impiously imprisoned, and in a lamentable state; that He Himself
will protect the Church’s freedom threatened by a multitude of evil
men, and through the pious prayers of His people will free it and
restore its most Holy Father. Just as the early Christians prayed when
Peter was in prison, so ought all to pray in these days of affliction.
“Shall we not,” he cries, “mourn for the evil life of the chief Church
(of Christendom)? Shall we not beseech God for the liberation of the
primate and chief ruler of the Church? Let us pray then; let us pray
that through our prayers we may be heard. Let us implore freedom for
our mother, the Catholic Church, and the liberty, so necessary for the
Christian religion, of our chief Father on earth--the Pope.”[107]
Again, Dr. John Clark, the English ambassador in Rome, when presenting
Henry’s book against Luther to Leo X. in public consistory, said that
the English king had taken up the defence of the Church because in
attacking the Pope the German reformer had tried to subvert the order
established by God Himself. In the _Babylonian Captivity of the Church_
he had given to the world a book “most pernicious to mankind,” and
before presenting Henry’s reply, he begged to be allowed to protest
“the devotion and veneration of the king towards the Pope and his most
Holy See.” Luther had declared war “not only against your Holiness
but also against your office; against the ecclesiastical hierarchy,
against this See, and against that Rock established by God Himself.”
England, the speaker continued, “has never been behind other nations
in the worship of God and the Christian faith, and in obedience to the
Roman Church.” Hence “no nation” detests more cordially “this monster
(Luther) and the heresies broached by him.” For he has declared war
“not only against your Holiness but against your office; against the
ecclesiastical hierarchy, against this See, that Rock established by
God Himself.”[108]
Whilst the evidence goes to show the full acceptance by the English
people of the Pope’s spiritual headship of the Church, it is also
true that the system elaborated by the ecclesiastical lawyers in
the later Middle Ages, dealing, as it did, so largely with temporal
matters, property, and the rights attaching thereto, opened the door
to causes of disagreement between Rome and England, and at times open
complaints and criticism of the exercise of Roman authority in England
made themselves heard. This is true of all periods of English history.
Since these disagreements are obviously altogether connected with the
question, not of spirituals, but of temporals, they would not require
any more special notice but for the misunderstandings they have given
rise to in regard to the general attitude of men’s minds to Rome and
Papal authority on the eve of the Reformation. It is easy to find
evidence of this. As early as 1517, a work bearing on this question
appeared in England. It was a translation of several tracts that had
been published abroad on the debated matter of Constantine’s donation
to the Pope, and it was issued from the press of Thomas Godfray in
a well-printed folio. After a translation of the Latin version of a
Greek manuscript of Constantine’s gift, which had been found in the
Papal library by Bartolomeo Pincern, and published by order of Pope
Julius II., there is given in this volume the critical examination of
this gift by Laurence Valla, the opinion of Nicholas of Cusa, written
for the Council of Basle, and that of St. Antoninus, Archbishop of
Florence. The interest of the volume for the present purpose chiefly
consists in the fact of the publication in England at this date of
the views expressed by Laurence Valla. Valla had been a canon of the
Lateran and an eminent scholar, who was employed by Pope Nicholas V.
to translate Thucydides and Herodotus. His outspoken words got him
into difficulties with the Roman curia, and obliged him to retire to
Naples, where he died in 1457. The tract was edited with a preface
by the leader of the reform party in Germany, Ulrich von Hutten. In
this introduction von Hutten says that by the publication of Pincern’s
translation of the supposed donation of Constantine Julius II. had
“provoked and stirred up men to war and battle,” and further, he
blames the Pontiff because he would not permit Valla’s work against
the genuineness of the gift to be published. With the accession of Leo
X. von Hutten looked, he declares, for better days, since “by striking
as it were a cymbal of peace the Pope has raised up the hearts and
minds of all Christian people.” Before this time the truth could not be
spoken. Popes looked “to pluck the riches and goods of all men to their
own selves,” with the result that “on the other side they take away
from themselves all that belongs to the succession of St. Peter.”
Valla, of course, condemns the supposed donation of Constantine to the
Pope as spurious, and declares against the temporal claims the See of
Rome had founded upon it. He strongly objects to the “temporal as well
as the spiritual sword” being in the hands of the successors of St.
Peter. “They say,” he writes, “that the city of Rome is theirs, that
the kingdom of Naples is their own property: that all Italy, France,
and Spain, Germany, England, and all the west part of the world belongs
to them. For all these nations and countries (they say) are contained
in the instrument and writ of the donation or grant.”
The whole tract is an attack upon the temporal sovereignty of the head
of the Christian Church, and it was indeed a bold thing for Ulrich von
Hutten to publish it and dedicate it to Pope Leo X. For the present
purpose it is chiefly important to find all this set out in an English
dress, whilst so far and for a long while after, the English people
were loyal and true to the spiritual headship of the Pope, and were
second to no other nation in their attachment to him. At that time
recent events, including the wars of Julius II., must certainly have
caused men to reflect upon the temporal aspect of the Papacy; and
hearts more loyal to the successor of St. Peter than was that of Von
Hutten would probably have joined fervently in the concluding words
of his preface as it appeared in English. “Would to God I might (for
there is nothing I do long for more) once see it brought to pass that
the Pope were only the Vicar of Christ and not also the Vicar of the
Emperor, and that this horrible saying may no longer be heard: ‘the
Church fighteth and warreth against the Perugians, the Church fighteth
against the people of Bologna.’ It is not the Church that fights and
wars against Christian men; it is the Pope that does so. The Church
fights against wicked spirits in the regions of the air. Then shall
the Pope be called, and in very deed be, a Holy Father, the Father of
all men, the Father of the Church. Then shall he not raise and stir up
wars and battles among Christian men, but he shall allay and stop the
wars which have been stirred up by others, by his apostolic censure and
papal majesty.”[109]
Evidence of what, above, has been called the probable searching of
men’s minds as to the action of the Popes in temporal matters, may
be seen in a book called a _Dyalogue between a knight and a clerk,
concerning the power spiritual and temporal_.[110] In reply to the
complaint of the clerk that in the evil days in which their lot had
fallen “the statutes and ordinances of bishops of Rome and the decrees
of holy fathers” were disregarded, the knight exposes a layman’s view
of the matter. “Whether they ordain,” he says, “or have ordained in
times past of the temporality, may well be law to you, but not to us.
No man has power to ordain statutes of things over which he has no
lordship, as the king of France may ordain no statute (binding) on the
emperor nor the emperor on the king of England. And just as princes of
this world may ordain no statutes for your spirituality over which they
have no power; no more may you ordain statutes of their temporalities
over which you have neither power nor authority. Therefore, whatever
you ordain about temporal things, over which you have received no power
from God, is vain (and void). And therefore but lately, I laughed well
fast, when I heard that Boniface VIII. had made a new statute that
he himself should be above all secular lords, princes, kings, and
emperors, and above all kingdoms, and make laws about all things: and
that he only needed to write, for all things shall be his when he has
so written: and thus all things will be yours. If he wishes to have my
castle, my town, my field, my money, or any other such thing he needed,
nothing but to will it, and write it, and make a decree, and wot that
it be done, (for) to all such things he has a right.”
The clerk does not, however, at once give up the position. You mean,
he says in substance, that in your opinion the Pope has no power over
your property and goods. “Though we should prove this by our law and
by written decrees, you account them for nought. For you hold that
Peter had no lordship or power over temporals, but by such law written.
But if you will be a true Christian man and of right belief, you will
not deny that Christ is the lord of all things. To Him it is said in
the Psalter book: ‘Ask of me, and I will give you nations for thine
heritage, and all the world about for thy possession’ (Ps. ii.). These
are God’s words, and no one doubts that He can ordain for the whole
earth.”
Nobody denies God’s lordship over the earth, replied the knight, “but
if be proved by Holy Writ that the Pope is lord of all temporalities,
then kings and princes must needs be subject to the Pope in temporals
as in spirituals.” So they are, in effect, answered the clerk. Peter
was made “Christ’s full Vicar,” and as such he can do what his lord
can, “especially when he is Vicar with full power, without any
withdrawing of power, and he thus can direct all Christian nations in
temporal matters.” But, said the knight, “Christ’s life plainly shows
that He made no claim whatever to temporal power. Also in Peter’s
commission He gave him not the keys of the kingdom of the earth, but
the keys of the kingdom of heaven. It is also evident that the bishops
of the Hebrews were subjects of the kings, and kings deposed bishops;
but,” he adds, fearing to go too far, “God forbid that they should
do so now.” Then he goes on to quote St. Paul in the Epistle to the
Hebrews to prove that St. Peter was Christ’s Vicar only in “the godly
kingdom of souls, and that though some temporal things may be managed
by bishops, yet nevertheless it is plain and evident that bishops
should not be occupied in the government of the might and lordship of
the world.” And indeed, he urges, “Christ neither made St. Peter a
knight nor a crowned king, but ordained him a priest and bishop.” If
the contention that “the Pope is the Vicar of God in temporal matter
be correct,” then of necessity you must also grant that “the Pope may
take from you and from us all the goods that you and we have, and give
them all to whichever of his nephews or cousins he wills and give no
reason why: and also that he may take away from princes and kings
principalities and kingdoms, at his own will, and give them where he
likes.”[111]
This statement by the layman of the advanced clerical view is somewhat
bald, and is probably intentionally exaggerated; but that it could
be published even as a caricature of the position taken up by some
ecclesiastics, shows that at this time some went very far indeed
in their claims. It is all the more remarkable that the argument is
seriously put forward in a tract, the author of which is evidently a
Catholic at heart, and one who fully admits the supreme jurisdiction
of the Pope in all matters spiritual. Of course, when the rejection
of Papal jurisdiction became imminent, there were found many who by
sermons and books endeavoured to eradicate the old teaching from
the people’s hearts, and then it was that what was called, “the
pretensions” of the successors of St. Peter in matters temporal were
held up to serve as a convenient means of striking at the spiritual
prerogatives. As a sample, a small book named a _Mustre of scismatyke
bysshops of Rome_ may be taken. It was printed in 1534, and its title
is sufficient to indicate its tone. The author, one John Roberts, rakes
together a good many unsavoury tales about the lives of individual
Popes, and in particular he translates the life of Gregory VII. to
enforce his moral. In his preface he says, “There is a fond, foolish,
fantasy raging in many men’s heads nowadays, and it is this: the Popes,
say they, cannot err. This fantastical blindness was never taught by
any man of literature, but by some peckish pedler or clouting collier:
it is so gross in itself.” And I “warn, advise, beseech, and adjure all
my well-beloved countrymen in England that men do not permit themselves
to be blinded with affection, with hypocrisy, or with superstition.
What have we got from Rome but pulling, polling, picking, robbing,
stealing, oppression, blood-shedding, and tyranny daily exercised upon
us by him and his.”[112]
Again, as another example of how the mind of the people was stirred
up, we may take a few sentences from _A Worke entytled of the olde
God and the new_. This tract is one of the most scurrilous of the
German productions of the period. It was published in English by
Myles Coverdale, and is on the list of books prohibited by the king
in 1534. After a tirade against the Pope, whom he delights in calling
“anti-Christ,” the author declares that the Popes are the cause of many
of the evils from which people were suffering at that time. In old
days, he says, the Bishop of Rome was nothing more “than a pastor or
herdsman,” and adds: “Now he who has been at Rome in the time of Pope
Alexander VI. or of Pope Julius II., he need not read many histories. I
put it to his judgment whether any of the Pagans or of the Turks ever
did lead such a life as did these.”[113]
The same temper of mind appears in the preface of a book called _The
Defence of Peace_, translated into English by William Marshall and
printed in 1535. The work itself was written by Marsilius of Padua
about 1323, but the preface is dated 1522. The whole tone is distinctly
anti-clerical, but the main line of attack is developed from the
side of the temporalities possessed by churchmen. Even churchmen, he
says, look mainly to the increase of their worldly goods. “Riches
give honour, riches give benefices, riches give power and authority,
riches cause men to be regarded and greatly esteemed.” Especially is
the author of the preface severe upon the temporal position which
the Pope claims as inalienably united with his office as head of the
Church. Benedict XII., he says, acted in many places as if he were all
powerful, appointing rulers and officers in cities within the emperor’s
dominions, saying, “that all power and rule and empire was his own, for
as much as whosoever is the successor of Peter on earth is the only
Vicar or deputy of Jesus Christ the King of Heaven.”[114]
In the body of the book itself the same views are expressed. The
authority of the primacy is said to be “not immediately from God, but
by the will and mind of man, just as other offices of a commonwealth
are,” and that the real meaning and extent of the claims put forward by
the Pope can be seen easily. They are temporal, not spiritual. “This
is the meaning of this title among the Bishops of Rome, that as Christ
had the fulness of power and jurisdiction over all kings, princes,
commonwealth, companies, or fellowships, and all singular persons, so
in like manner they who call themselves the Vicars of Christ and Peter,
have also the same fulness of enactive jurisdiction, determined by
no law of man,” and thus it is that “the Bishops of Rome, with their
desire for dominion, have been the cause of discords and wars.”[115]
Lancelot Ridley, in his _Exposition of the Epistle of Jude_, published
in 1538 after the breach with Rome, takes the same line. The Pope has
no right to have “exempted himself” and “other spiritual men from the
obedience to the civil rulers and powers.” Some, indeed, he says, “set
up the usurped power of the Bishop of Rome above kings, princes, and
emperors, and that by the ordinance of God, as if God and His Holy
Scripture did give to the Bishop of Rome a secular power above kings,
princes, and emperors here in this world. It is evident by Scripture
that the Bishop of Rome has no other power but at the pleasure of
princes, than in the ministration of the Word of God in preaching God’s
Word purely and sincerely, to reprove by it evil men, and to do such
things as become a preacher, a bishop, a minister of God’s Word to do.
Other power Scripture does not attribute to the Bishop of Rome, nor
suffer him to use. Scripture wills him to be a bishop, and to do the
office of a bishop, and not to play the prince, the king, the emperor,
the lord, and so forth.”[116] It is important to note in this passage
that the writer was a reformer, and that he was expressing his views
after the jurisdiction of the Holy See had been rejected by the king
and his advisers. The ground of the rejection, according to him--or
at any rate the reason which it was desired to emphasise before the
public--would appear to be the temporal authority which the Popes had
been exercising.
In the same year, 1538, Richard Morysine published a translation of
a letter addressed by John Sturmius, the Lutheran, to the cardinals
appointed by Pope Paul III. to consider what could be done to stem the
evils which threatened the Church. As the work of this Papal commission
was then directly put before the English people, some account of it
is almost necessary. The commission consisted of four cardinals, two
archbishops, one bishop, the abbot of San Giorgio, Venice, and the
master of the Sacred Palace, and its report was supposed to have been
drafted by Cardinal Caraffa, afterwards Pope Paul IV. The document
thanks God who has inspired the Pope “to put forth his hand to support
the ruins of the tottering and almost fallen Church of Christ, and to
raise it again to its pristine height.” As a beginning, the Holy Father
has commanded them to lay bare to him “those most grave abuses, that is
diseases, by which the Church of God, and this Roman curia especially,
is afflicted,” and which has brought about the state of ruin now so
evident. The initial cause of all has been, they declare, that the
Popes have surrounded themselves with people who only told them what
they thought would be pleasant to them, and who had not the honesty
and loyalty to speak the truth. This adulation had deceived the Roman
Pontiffs about many things. “To get the truth to their ears was always
most difficult. Teachers sprung up who were ready to declare that the
Pope was the master of all benefices, and as master might by right sell
them as his own.” As a consequence, it was taught that the Pope could
not be guilty of simony, and that the will of the Pope was the highest
law, and could override all law. “From this source, Holy Father,” they
continue, “as from the Trojan horse, so many abuses and most grievous
diseases have grown up in the Church of God.” Even pagans, they say,
scoff at the state of the Christian Church as it is at present, and
they, the commissioners, beg the Pope not to delay in immediately
taking in hand the correction of the manifest abuses which afflict and
disgrace the Church of Christ. “Begin the cure,” they say, “whence
sprung the disease. Follow the teaching of the Apostle St. Paul: ‘be a
dispenser, not a lord.’”
They then proceed to note the abuses which to them are most apparent,
and to suggest remedies. We are not concerned with these further
than to point out that, as a preliminary, they state that the true
principle of government is, that what is the law must be kept, and that
dispensations should be granted only on the most urgent causes, since
nothing brings government to such bad repute as the continual exercise
of the power of dispensation. Further, they note that it is certainly
not lawful for the Vicar of Christ to make any profit (_lucrum_) by the
dispensations he is obliged to give.
Sturmius, in his preface, says he had hopes of better things, now
that there was a Pope ready to listen. “It is a rare thing, and much
more than man could hope for, that there should come a Bishop of Rome
who would require his prelates upon their oath to open the truth, to
show abuses, and to seek remedies for them.” He is pleased to think
that these four cardinals, Sadolet, Paul Caraffa, Contarini, and
Reginald Pole had allowed fully and frankly that a great portion of
the difficulty had come from the unfortunate attitude of the Popes
in regard to worldly affairs. “You acknowledge,” he says, “that no
lordship is committed to the Bishop of Rome, but rather a certain cure
by which he may rule things in the church according to good order. If
you admit this to be true and will entirely grant us this, a great part
of our (_i.e._ Lutheran) controversy is taken away; granting this also,
that we did not dissent from you without great and just causes.” The
three points the cardinals claimed for the Pope, it may be noted, were:
(1) that he was to be Bishop of Rome; (2) that he was to be universal
Bishop; and (3) that he should be allowed temporal sovereignty over
certain cities in Italy.[117] Again we find the same view put before
the English people in this translation: the chief objection to the
admission of Papal prerogatives was the “lordship” which he claimed
over and above the spiritual powers he exercised as successor of St.
Peter. On this point we find preachers and writers of the period
insisting most clearly and definitely. Some, of course, attack the
spiritual jurisdiction directly, but most commonly such attacks are
flavoured and served up for general consumption by a supply of abuse
of the temporal assumptions and the worldly show of the Popes. This
appealed to the popular mind, and to the growing sense of national aims
and objects, and the real issue of the spiritual headship was obscured
by the plea of national sentiment and safeguards.
To take one more example: Bishop Tunstall, on Palm Sunday, 1539,
preached before the king and court. His object was to defend the
rejection of the Papal supremacy and jurisdiction. He declaimed against
the notion that the Popes were to be considered as free from subjection
to worldly powers, maintaining that in this they were like all other
men. “The Popes,” he says, “exalt their seat above the stars of God,
and ascend above the clouds, and will be like to God Almighty.… The
Bishop of Rome offers his feet to be kissed, shod with his shoes on.
This I saw myself, being present thirty-four years ago, when Julius,
the Bishop of Rome, stood on his feet and one of his chamberlains held
up his skirt because it stood not, as he thought, with his dignity
that he should do it himself, that his shoes might appear, whilst a
nobleman of great age prostrated himself upon the ground and kissed his
shoes.”[118]
To us, to-day, much that was written and spoken at this time will
appear, like many of the above passages, foolish and exaggerated; but
the language served its purpose, and contributed more than anything
else to lower the Popes in the eyes of the people, and to justify
in their minds the overthrow of the ecclesiastical system which had
postulated the Pope as the universal Father of the Christian Church.
Each Sunday, in every parish church throughout the country, they had
been invited in the bidding prayer, as their fathers had been for
generations, to remember their duty of praying for their common Father,
the Pope. When the Pope’s authority was finally rejected by the English
king and his advisers, it was necessary to justify this serious breach
with the past religious practice, and the works of the period prove
beyond doubt that this was done in the popular mind by turning men’s
thoughts to the temporal aspect of the Papacy, and making them think
that it was for the national profit and honour that this foreign yoke
should be cast off. Whilst this is clear, it is also equally clear
in the works of the time that the purely religious aspect of the
question was as far as possible relegated to a secondary place in the
discussions. This was perhaps not unnatural, as the duty of defending
the rejection of the Papal supremacy can hardly have been very tasteful
to those who were forced by the strong arm of the State to justify it
before the people. As late as 1540 we are told by a contemporary writer
that the spirituality under the bishops “favour as much as they dare
the Bishop of Rome’s laws and his ways.”[119]
Even the actual meaning attached to the formal acknowledgment of
the king’s Headship by the clergy was sufficiently ambiguous to
be understood, by some at least, as aimed merely at the temporal
jurisdiction of the Roman curia. It is true it is usually understood
that Convocation by its act, acknowledging Henry as sole supreme Head
of the Church of England, gave him absolute spiritual jurisdiction.
Whatever may have been the intention of the king in requiring the
acknowledgment from the clergy, it seems absolutely certain that the
ruling powers in the Church considered that by their grant there was no
derogation of the Pope’s spiritual jurisdiction.
A comparison of the clauses required by Henry with those actually
granted by Convocation makes it evident that any admission that the
crown had any cure of souls, that is, spiritual jurisdiction, was
specifically guarded against. In place of the clause containing the
words, “cure of souls committed to his Majesty,” proposed in the king’s
name to his clergy, they adopted the form, “the nation committed to his
Majesty.” The other royal demands were modified in the same manner,
and it is consequently obvious that all the insertions proposed by the
crown were weighed with the greatest care by skilled ecclesiastical
jurists in some two and thirty sessions, and the changes introduced by
them with the proposals made on behalf of the king throw considerable
light upon the meaning which Convocation intended to give to the
_Supremum Caput_ clause. In one sense, perhaps not the obvious one,
but one that had _de facto_ been recognised during Catholic ages, the
sovereign was the Protector--the _advocatus_--of the Church in his
country, and to him the clergy would look to protect his people from
the introduction of heresy and for maintenance in their temporalities.
So that whilst, on the one hand, the king and Thomas Cromwell may well
have desired the admission of Henry’s authority over “the English
Church, whose Protector and supreme Head he alone is,” to cover even
spiritual jurisdiction, on the other hand, Warham and the English
Bishops evidently did intend it to cover only an admission that the
king had taken all jurisdiction in temporals, hitherto exercised by the
Pope in England, into his own hands.
Moreover, looking at what was demanded and at what was granted by the
clergy, there is little room for doubt that they at first deliberately
eliminated any acknowledgment of the Royal jurisdiction. This deduction
is turned into a certainty by the subsequent action of Archbishop
Warham. He first protested that the admission was not to be twisted in
“derogation of the Roman Pontiff or the Apostolic See,” and the very
last act of his life was the drafting of an elaborate exposition, to
be delivered in the House of Lords, of the impossibility of the king’s
having spiritual jurisdiction, from the very nature of the constitution
of the Christian Church. Such jurisdiction, he claimed, belonged of
right to the Roman See.[120]
That the admission wrung from the clergy in fact formed the thin end of
the wedge which finally severed the English Church from the spiritual
jurisdiction of the Holy See is obvious. But the “thin end” was, there
can be hardly any doubt, the temporal aspect of the authority of the
Roman See; and that its insertion at all was possible may be said in
greater measure to be due to the fact that the exercise of jurisdiction
in temporals by a foreign authority had long been a matter which many
Englishmen had strongly resented.
CHAPTER V
CLERGY AND LAITY
It is very generally asserted that on the eve of the Reformation the
laity in England had no particular love or respect for churchmen. That
there were grave difficulties and disagreements between the two estates
is supposed to be certain. On the face of it, however, the reason and
origin of what is frequently called “the grudge” of laymen against
the ecclesiastics is obviously much misunderstood. Its extent is
exaggerated, its origin put at an earlier date than should be assigned
to it, and the whole meaning of the points at issue interpreted quite
unnecessarily as evidence of a popular and deep-seated disbelief in the
prevailing ecclesiastical system. To understand the temper of people
and priest in those times, it is obviously necessary to examine into
this question in some detail. We are not without abundant material in
the literature of the period for forming a judgment as to the relations
which then existed between the clerical and lay elements in the State.
Fortunately, not only have we assertions on the one side and on the
other as to the questions at issue, but the whole matter was debated at
the time in a series of tracts by two eminent laymen. This discussion
was carried on between an anonymous writer, now recognised as the
lawyer, Christopher Saint-German, and Sir Thomas More himself.
Christopher Saint-German, who is chiefly known as the writer of
a _Dyalogue in English between a Student of Law and a Doctor of
Divinity_, belonged to the Inner Temple, and was, it has already been
said, a lawyer of considerable repute. About the year 1532, a tract
from his pen called _A treatise concerning the division between the
spiritualtie and temporaltie_ appeared anonymously. To this Sir Thomas
More, who had just resigned the office of Chancellor, replied in his
celebrated _Apology_, published in 1533. Saint-German rejoined in
the same year with _A Dyalogue between two Englishmen, whereof one
is called Salem and the other Bizance_, More immediately retorting
with the _Debellacyon of Salem and Bizance_. In these four treatises
the whole matter of the supposed feud between the clergy and laity is
thrashed out, and the points at issue are clearly stated and discussed.
Christopher Saint-German’s position is at first somewhat difficult to
understand. By some of his contemporaries he was considered to have
been tainted by “the new teaching” in doctrinal matters, which at the
time he wrote was making some headway in England. He himself, however,
professes to write as a loyal believer in the teaching of the Church,
but takes exception to certain ecclesiastical laws and customs which
in his opinion are no necessary part of the system at all. In these he
thinks he detects the cause of the “division that had risen between the
spiritualtie and the temporaltie.” Sir Thomas More, it may be remarked,
is always careful to treat the writer as if he believed him to be a
sincere Catholic, though mistaken in both the extent of the existing
disaffection to the Church and altogether impracticable in the remedies
he suggested. In some things it must, however, be confessed, granting
Saint-German’s facts, that he shows weighty grounds for some grievance
against the clergy on the part of the laity.
_The treatise concerning the division_ begins by expressing regret
at the unfortunate state of things which the author pre-supposes as
existing in England when he wrote in 1532, contrasting it with what
he remembered before. “Who may remember the state of this realm now
in these days,” he writes, “without great heaviness and sorrow of
heart? For whereas, in times past, there has reigned charity, meekness,
concord, and peace, there now reigns envy, pride, division, and strife,
and that not only between laymen and churchmen, but also between
religious and religious, and between priests and religious, and what is
more to be lamented also between priests and priests. This division has
been so universal that it has been a great (cause of) disquiet and a
great breach of charity through all the realm.”[121]
It must be confessed that if this passage is to be taken as it stands,
the division would appear to have been very widely spread at the
time. Sir Thomas More, whilst denying that the difficulty was so
great as Saint-German would make out, admits that in late years the
spirit had grown and was still growing apace. He holds, however, that
Saint-German’s reasons for its existence are not the true ones, and
that his methods will only serve to increase the spirit of division.
As regards the quarrels between religious, at which Saint-German
expresses his indignation, he says: “Except this man means here by
religious folk, either women and children with whose variances the
temporality is not very much disturbed, or else the lay brethren, who
are in some places of religion, and who are neither so many nor so much
esteemed, that ever the temporality was much troubled at their strife,
besides this there is no variance between religious and religious
with which the temporality have been offended.”[122] Again: “Of some
particular variance among divers persons of the clergy I have indeed
heard, as sometimes one against another for his tithes, or a parson
against a religious place for meddling with his parish, or one place
of religion with another upon some such like occasions, or sometime
some one religious (order) have had some question and dispute as to
the antiquity or seniority of its institution, as (for instance) the
Carmelites claim to derive their origin from Elias and Eliseus: and
some question has arisen in the Order of Saint Francis between the
Observants and the Conventuals (for of the third company, that is to
say the Colettines, there are none in this realm). But of all these
matters, as far as I have read or remember, there were never in this
realm either so very great or so many such (variances) all at once,
that it was ever at the time remarked through the realm and spoken of
as a great and notable fault of the whole clergy.” Particular faults
and petty quarrels should not be considered the cause of any great
grudge against the clergy at large. “And as it is not in reason that it
should be, so in fact it is not so, as may be understood from this:” …
“if it were the case, then must this grudge of ours against them have
been a very old thing, whereas it is indeed neither so great as this
man maketh out, nor grown to so great (a pass) as it is, but only even
so late as Tyndale’s books and Frith’s and Friar Barnes’ began to go
abroad.”[123]
Further, in several places Sir Thomas More emphatically asserts that
the talking against the clergy, the hostile feeling towards them, and
the dissensions said to exist between them and lay folk generally,
were only of very recent origin, and were at worst not very serious.
“I have, within these four or five years (for before I heard little
talk of such things),” he writes, “been present at such discussions in
divers good companies, never talking in earnest thereof (for as yet
I thank God that I never heard such talk), but as a pass-time and in
the way of familiar talking, I have heard at such times some in hand
with prelates and secular priests and religious persons, and talk of
their lives, and their learning, and of their livelihood too, and as
to whether they were such, that it were better to have them or not to
have them. Then touching their livelihood (it was debated), whether it
might be lawfully taken away from them or no; and if it might, whether
it were expedient for it to be taken, and if so for what use.”[124]
To this Saint-German replies at length in his _Salem and Bizance_, and
says that Sir Thomas More must have known that the difficulties had
their origin long before the rise of the new religious views, and were
not in any sense founded upon the opinions of the modern heretics.[125]
More answers by reasserting his position that “the division is nothing
such as this man makes it, and is grown as great as it is only since
Tyndale’s books and Frith’s and Friar Barnes’ began to be spread
abroad.” And in answer to Saint-German’s suggestion that he should
look a little more closely into the matter, he says: “Indeed, with
better looking thereon I find it somewhat otherwise. For I find the
time of such increase as I speak of much shorter than I assigned, and
that by a great deal. For it has grown greater” by reason of “the book
upon the division,” which Saint-German with the best of intentions had
circulated among the people.[126]
Putting one book against the other, it would appear then tolerably
certain that the rise of the anti-clerical spirit in England must be
dated only just before the dawn of the Reformation, when the popular
mind was being stirred up by the new teachers against the clergy.
There seems, moreover, no reason to doubt the positive declaration
of Sir Thomas More, who had every means of knowing, that the outcry
was modern--so modern indeed that it was practically unknown only
four or five years before 1533, and that it originated undoubtedly
from the dissemination of Lutheran views and teachings by Tyndale and
others. It is useful to examine well into the grounds upon which this
anti-clerical campaign was conducted, and to note the chief causes of
objection to the clergy which are found set forth by Saint-German in
his books. In the first place: “Some say,” he writes, that priests and
religious “keep not the perfection of their order,” and do not set
that good example to the people “they should do.” Some also work for
“their own honour, and call it the honour of God, and rather covet to
have rule over the people than to profit the people.” Others think more
about their “bodily ease and worldly wealth and meat and drink,” and
the like, even more than lay people do. Others, again, serve God “for
worldly motives, to obtain the praise of men, to enrich themselves and
the like, and not from any great love of God.”
Such is the first division of the general accusations which
Saint-German states were popularly made against the clergy in 1532.
Against these may be usefully set Sir Thomas More’s examination of the
charges, and his own opinion as to the state of the clergy. In his
previous works he had, he says, forborne to use words unpleasant either
to the clergy or laity about themselves, though he had “confessed what
is true, namely, that neither were faultless.” But what had offended
“these blessed brethren,” the English followers of Luther, was that “I
have not hesitated to say, what I also take for the very truth, that
as this realm of England has, God be thanked, as good and praiseworthy
a temporality, number for number, as any other Christian country of
equal number has had, so has it had also, number for number, compared
with any other realm of no greater number in Christendom, as good and
as commendable a clergy. In both there have never been wanting plenty
of those who have always been ‘naught’; but their faults have ever been
their own and should not be imputed to the whole body, neither in the
spirituality nor temporality.”[127]
Turning to the special accusation made by Saint-German that
ecclesiastics “do not keep the perfection of their order,” More grants
that this may “not be much untrue.” For “Man’s duty to God is so great
that very few serve Him as they should do.”…“But, I suppose, they keep
it now at this day much after such a good metely manner as they did
in the years before, during which this division was never dreamed of,
and therefore those who say this is the cause have need to go seek
some other.”[128] To the second point his reply is equally clear. It
is true, More thinks, that some ecclesiastics do look perhaps to their
own honour and profit, but, he asks, “were there never any such till so
lately as the beginning of this division, or are all of them like this
now?” No doubt there are some such, and “I pray God that when any new
ones shall come they may prove no worse. For of these, if they wax not
worse before they die, those who shall live after them may, in my mind,
be bold to say that England had not their betters any time these forty
years, and I dare go for a good way beyond this too. But this is more
than twenty years, and ten before this division” (between the clergy
and laity) was heard of.[129] Further, as far as his own opinion goes,
although there may be, and probably are, some priests and religious
whom the world accounts good and virtuous, who are yet at heart
evil-minded, this is no reason to despise or condemn the whole order.
Equally certain is it that besides such there are “many very virtuous,
holy men indeed, whose holiness and prayer have been, I verily believe,
one great special cause that God has so long held His hand from
letting some heavier stroke fall on the necks of those whether in the
spirituality or temporality who are naught and care not.”[130]
In his _Apology_, Sir Thomas More protested against the author of
the work on the _Division_ translating a passage from the Latin of
John Gerson, about the evil lives of priests; and on Saint-German
excusing himself in his second book, More returns to the point in
_The Debellation of Salem and Bizance_. More had pleaded that his
opponent had dragged the faults of the clergy into light rather than
those of the laity, because if the priests led good lives, as St. John
Chrysostom had said, the whole Church would be in a good state; “and
if they were corrupt, the faith and virtue of the people fades also
and vanishes away.” “Surely, good readers,” exclaims More, “I like
these words well.” They are very good, and they prove “the matter right
well, and very true is it, nor did I ever say the contrary, but have
in my _Apology_ plainly said the same: that every fault in a spiritual
man is, by the difference of the person, far worse and more odious
to God and man than if it were in a temporal man.” And indeed the
saying of St. Chrysostom “were in part the very cause that made me
write against his (_i.e._ Saint-German’s) book. For assuredly, as St.
Chrysostom says: ‘If the priesthood be corrupt, the faith and virtue of
the people fades and vanishes away.’ This is without any question very
true, for though St. Chrysostom had never said it, our Saviour says as
much himself. ‘Ye are (saith He to the clergy) the salt of the earth.’
… But, I say, since the priesthood is corrupted it must needs follow
that the faith and virtue of the people fades and vanishes away, and
on Christ’s words it must follow that, if the spirituality be nought,
the temporality must needs be worse than they. I, upon this, conclude
on the other side against this ‘Pacifier’s’ book, that since this
realm has (as God be thanked indeed it has) as good and as faithful a
temporality (though there be a few false brethren in a great multitude
of true Catholic men) as any other Christian country of equal size has,
it must needs, I say, follow that the clergy (though it have some such
false evil brethren too) is not so sorely corrupted as the book of
_Division_ would make people think, but on their side they are as good
as the temporality are on theirs.”[131]
On one special point Saint-German insists very strongly. As it is
a matter upon which much has been said, and upon which people are
inclined to believe the worst about the pre-Reformation clergy, it
may be worth while to give his views at some length, and then take
Sir Thomas More’s opinion also on the subject. It is on the eternal
question of the riches of the Church, and the supposed mercenary spirit
which pervaded the clergy. “Some lay people say,” writes Saint-German,
“that however much religious men have disputed amongst themselves as
to the pre-eminence of their particular state in all such things as
pertain to the maintenance of the worldly honour of the Church and
of spiritual men, which they call the honour of God, and in all such
things as pertain to the increase of the riches of spiritual men,
all, religious or secular, agree as one.” For this reason it is found
that religious men are much more earnest in trying to induce people
to undertake and support such works as produce money for themselves,
such as trentals, chantries, obits, pardons, and pilgrimages, than in
insisting upon the payments of debts, upon restitution for wrong done,
or upon works of mercy “to their neighbours poor and needy--sometimes
in extreme necessity.”[132]
Sir Thomas More replies that those who object in this way, object not
so much because the trentals, &c., tend to make priests rich, but
because they “hate” the things themselves. Indeed, some of these things
are not such that they make priests so very rich, in fact, as to induce
them to use all endeavour to procure them. The chantries, for example,
“though they are many, no one man can make any very great living out of
them; and that a priest should have some living of such a mean thing
as the chantries commonly are, no good man will find great fault.” As
for pilgrimages, “though the shrines are well garnished, and the chapel
well hanged with wax (candles), few men nowadays, I fear, can have much
cause to grudge or complain of the great offerings required from them.
Those men make the most ado who offer nothing at all.” And with regard
to “pardons,” it should be remembered that they were procured often
“by the good faithful devotion of virtuous secular princes, as was the
great pardon purchased for Westminster and the Savoy” by Henry VII.
“And in good faith I never yet perceived,” he says, “that people make
such great offerings at a pardon that we should either much pity their
expense or envy the priests that profit.”
“But then the trentals! Lo, they are the things, as you well know, by
which the multitude of the clergy and specially the prelates, all get
an infinite treasure each year.” For himself, Sir Thomas More hopes and
“beseeches God to keep men devoted to the trentals and obits too.” But
where this “Pacifier” asserts that “some say that all spiritual men
as a body induce people to pilgrimages, pardons, chantries, obits, and
trentals, rather than to the payment of their debts, or to restitution
of their wrongs, or to deeds of mercy to their neighbours that are poor
and needy, and sometimes in extreme necessity, for my part, I thank
God,” he says, “that I never heard yet of any one who ever would give
that counsel, and no more has this ‘Pacifier’ himself, for he says it
only under his common figure of ‘some say.’”[133]
In his second reply, More returns to the same subject. Saint-German
speaks much, he says, about “restitution.” This, should there be
need, no reasonable man would object to. “But now the matter standeth
all in this way: this man talks as if the spirituality were very
busy to procure men and induce people (generally) to give money for
trentals, to found chantries and obits, to obtain pardons and to go on
pilgrimages, leaving their debts unpaid and restitution unmade which
should be done first, and that this was the custom of the spirituality.
In this,” says More, “standeth the question.” The point is not whether
debts and restitution should be satisfied before all other things,
which all will allow, but whether the “multitude of the clergy, that
is to say either all but a few, or at least the most part, solicit
and labour lay people to do these (voluntary) things rather than pay
their debts or make restitution for their wrongs.… That the multitude
of priests do this, I never heard any honest man for very shame say.
For I think it were hard to meet with a priest so wretched, who, were
he asked his advice and counsel on that point, would not in so plain a
matter, though out of very shame, well and plainly counsel the truth,
and if perchance there were found any so shameless as to give contrary
counsel, I am very sure they would be by far the fewer, and not as this
good man’s first book says, the greater part and multitude.” What,
therefore, More blames so much is, that under pretext of an altogether
“untrue report” the clergy generally are held up to obloquy and their
good name slandered.[134] If he thinks that “I do but mock him to my
poor wit, I think it somewhat more civility in some such points as this
to mock him a little merrily, than with odious earnest arguments to
discuss matters seriously with him.”
In some things even Saint-German considers the outcry raised against
the clergy unreasonable. But then, as he truly says, many “work rather
upon will than upon reason,” and though possessed of great and good
zeal are lacking in necessary discretion. Thus some people, seeing the
evils that come to the Church from riches, “have held the opinion that
it was not lawful for the Church to have any possessions.” Others,
“taking a more mean way,” have thought that the Church ought not to
have “that great abundance that” it has, for this induces a love of
riches in churchmen and “hinders, and in a manner strangles, the love
of God.” These last would-be reformers of churchmen advocate taking
away all that is not necessary. Others, again, have gone a step further
still, “and because great riches have come to the Church for praying
for souls in Purgatory, have affirmed that there is no Purgatory.”
In the same way such men would be against pardons, pilgrimages, and
chantries. They outwardly appear “to rise against all these … and to
despise them, and yet in their hearts they know and believe that all
such things are of themselves right good and profitable, as indeed they
are, if they are ordered as they should be.”[135]
Sir Thomas More truly says that what is implied in this outcry against
the riches of the clergy is that as a body they lead idle, luxurious,
if not vicious lives. It is easy enough to talk in this way, but how
many men in secular occupations, he asks, would be willing to change?
There might be “some who would, and gladly would, have become prelates
(for I have heard many laymen who would very willingly have been
bishops), and there might be found enough to match those that are evil
and naughty secular priests, and those too who have run away from the
religious life, and these would, and were able to, match them in their
own ways were they never so bad. Yet, as the world goes now, it would
not be very easy, I ween, to find sufficient to match the good, even
though they be as few as some folk would have them to be.”
In the fifteenth chapter of his book on the _Division_, Saint-German
deals specially with the religious life and with what in his opinion
people think about it, and about those who had given up their liberty
for a life in the cloister. The matter is important, and considerable
extracts are necessary fully to understand the position. “Another
cause” of the dislike of the clergy by the laity is to be sought for
in the “great laxity and liberty of living that people have seen
in religious men. For they say, that though religious men profess
obedience and poverty, yet many of them have and will have their own
will, with plenty of delicate food in such abundance that no obedience
or poverty appears in them. For this reason many have said, and yet
say to the present day, that religious men have the most pleasant and
delicate life that any men have. And truly, if we behold the holiness
and blessed examples of the holy fathers, and of many religious persons
that have lived in times past, and of many that now live in these
days, we should see right great diversity between them. For many of
them, I trow, as great diversity as between heaven and hell.” Then,
after quoting the eighteenth chapter of _The Following of Christ_,
he proceeds: “Thus far goeth the said chapter. But the great pity is
that most men say that at the present day many religious men will
rather follow their own will than the will of their superior, and that
they will neither suffer hunger nor thirst, heat nor cold, nakedness,
weariness nor labour, but will have riches, honour, dignities, friends,
and worldly acquaintances, the attendance of servants at their
commands, pleasure and disports, and that more liberally than temporal
men have. Thus, say some, are they fallen from true religion, whereby
the devotion of the people is in a manner fallen from them.”
“Nevertheless, I doubt not that there are many right good and virtuous
religious persons. God forbid that it should be otherwise. But it is
said that there are many evil, and that in such a multitude that those
who are good cannot, or will not, see them reformed. And one great
cause that hinders reform is this: if the most dissolute person in all
the community, and the one who lives most openly against the rules of
religion, can use this policy, namely, to extol his (form of) religious
life above all others, pointing them out as not being so perfect as
that to which he belongs, anon he shall be called a good fervent
brother, and one that supports his Order, and for this reason his
offences shall be looked on the more lightly.”
“Another thing that has caused many people to mislike religious has
been the great extremity that has been many times witnessed at the
elections of abbots, priors, and such other spiritual sovereigns. And
this is a general ground, for when religious men perceive that people
mislike them, they in their hearts withdraw their favour and devotion
again from them. And in this way charity has waxed cold between them.”
“And verily, I suppose, that it were better that there should be no
abbot or prior hereafter allowed to continue over a certain number
of years, and that these should be appointed by the authority of the
rulers, rather than have such extremities at elections, as in many
places has been used in times past.
“And verily, it seems to me, one thing would do great good concerning
religious Orders and all religious persons, and that is this: that the
Rules and Constitutions of religious bodies should be examined and well
considered, whether their rigour and straightness can be borne now in
these days as they were at the beginning of the religious Orders. For
people be nowadays weaker, as to the majority of men, than they were
then. And if it is thought that they (_i.e._ the Rules) cannot now be
kept, that then such relaxations and interpretations of their rules be
made, as shall be thought expedient by the rulers. Better it is to have
an easy rule well kept, than a strict rule broken without correction.
For, thereof followeth a boldness to offend, a quiet heart in an evil
conscience: a custom in sin, with many an ill example to the people.
By this many have found fault at all religious life, where they should
rather have found fault at divers abuses against the true religion.
Certain it is that religious life was first ordained by the holy
fathers by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, keep it who so may.”[136]
Much of this criticism on the state of the religious orders on the eve
of the Reformation is obviously only very general, and would apply
to all states of society, composed, as such bodies are, of human
members. With much that Saint-German suggests, it is impossible not
to agree in principle, however difficult the attainment of the ideal
may be in practice. Sir Thomas More, whilst admitting that there were
undoubtedly things requiring correction in the religious life of the
period, maintains most strongly that in practical working it was far
better than any one would gather from the assertions and suggestions
of Saint-German, and that in reality, with all their carping at laxity
and worldliness, none of the critics of the monks would be willing to
change places with them. “As wealthy,” he writes, “and as easy and as
glorious as some tell ‘the pacifier’ religious life is, yet if some
other would say to them: ‘Lo sirs, those folks who are in religion
shall out, come you into religion in their steads; live there better
than they do, and you shall have heaven,’ they would answer, I fear me,
that they are not weary of the world. And even if they were invited
into religion another way, and it was said to them, ‘Sir, we will not
bid you live so straight in religion as these men should have done;
come on enter, and do just as they did, and then you will have a good,
easy, and wealthy life, and much worldly praise for it,’--I ween for
all that, a man would not get them to go into it. But as easy as we
call it, and as wealthy too--and now peradventure when our wives are
angry we wish ourselves therein--were it offered … I ween that for
all our words, if that easy and wealthy life that is in religion were
offered to us, even as weary as we are of wedding, we would rather bear
all our pain abroad than take a religious man’s life of ease in the
cloister.”[137]
With some of the accusations of Saint-German, or rather with some of
his explanations of the supposed “grudge” borne by the laity to the
clergy, More has hardly the patience to deal. They, the clergy, and
above all religious, should, the former says, “give alms and wear hair
(shirts), and fast and pray that this division may cease.” “Pray, wear
hair, fast, and give alms,” says the latter; “why, what else do they do
as a rule? Some may not; but then there were some negligent in those
matters for the past thousand years, and so the present negligence of
a few can’t be the cause of the dissension now.” “But this ‘pacifier,’
perceiving that what one man does in secret another cannot see, is
therefore bold to say they do not do all those things he would have
them do; that is to say, fast, pray, wear hair (shirts), and give alms.
For he says ‘that they do all these things it appears not.’”
Now, “as to praying, it appears indeed that they do this; and that
so much that they daily pray, as some of us lay men think it a pain
(to do) once a week; to rise so soon from sleep and to wait so long
fasting, as on a Sunday to come and hear out their matins. And yet
the matins in every parish is neither begun so early nor so long in
the saying as it is in the Charter house you know well; and yet at
the sloth and gluttony of us, who are lay people, he can wink and fan
himself asleep. But as soon as the lips of the clergy stop moving he
quickly spies out that they are not praying.”
And “now as touching on alms: Is there none given, does he think, by
the spirituality? If he say, as he does, that it does not appear that
they do give alms, I might answer again that they but follow in this
the counsel of Christ which says: ‘Let not the left hand see what thy
right hand doeth.’… But as God, for all that counsel, was content that
men should both pray and give to the needy and do other works both of
penance and of charity openly and abroad, where there is no desire
of vain glory, but that the people by the sight thereof might have
occasion therefore to give laud and praise to God, so I dare say boldly
that they, both secretly and openly too, … give no little alms in the
year, whatsoever this ‘pacifier’ do say. And I somewhat marvel, since
he goes so busily abroad that there is no ‘some say,’ almost in the
whole realm, which he does not hear and repeat it; I marvel, I say,
not a little that he neither sees nor hears from any ‘some say’ that
there is almsgiving in the spirituality; I do not much myself go very
far abroad, and yet I hear ‘some say’ that there is; and I myself see
sometimes so many poor folk at Westminster at the doles, of whom, as
far as I have ever heard, the monks are not wont to send many away
unserved, that I have myself for the press of them been fain to ride
another way.”
“But to this, some one once answered me and said; ‘that it was no
thanks to them, for it (came from) lands that good princes have given
them.’ But, as I then told him, it was then much less thanks to them
that would now give good princes evil counsel to take it from them. And
also if we are to call it not giving of alms by them, because other
good men have given them the lands from which they give it, from what
will you have them give alms? They have no other.…”
Further replying to the insinuation of Saint-German that the religious
keep retainers and servants out of pride and for “proud worldly
countenance,” Sir Thomas More says: “If men were as ready in regard to
a deed of their own, by nature indifferent, to construe the mind and
intent of the doer to the better part, as they are, of their own inward
goodness, to construe and report it to the worst, then might I say,
that the very thing which they call ‘the proud worldly countenance’
they might and should call charitable alms. That is to say, (when they
furnish) the right honest keep and good bringing up of so many temporal
men in their service, who though not beggars yet perhaps the greater
part of them might have to beg if they did not support them but sent
them out to look for some service for themselves,” (they are giving
charitable alms).
“And just as if you would give a poor man some money because he was in
need and yet would make him go and work for it in your garden, lest
by your alms he should live idle and become a loiterer, the labour he
does, does not take away the nature nor merit of alms: so neither is
the keeping of servants no alms, though they may wait on the finder and
serve him in his house. And of all alms the chief is, to see people
well brought up and well and honestly guided. In which point, though
neither part do fully their duty, yet I believe in good faith that
in this matter, which is no small alms, the spirituality is rather
somewhat before us than in any way drags behind.”[138]
With regard to the charge brought against the clergy of great laxity in
fasting and mortification, More thinks this is really a point on which
he justly can make merry. Fasting, he says, must be regulated according
to custom and the circumstances of time and place. If there were to be
a cast-iron rule for fasting, then, when compared with primitive times,
people in his day, since they dined at noon, could not be held to fast
at all. And yet “the Church to condescend to our infirmity” has allowed
men “to say their evensong in Lent before noon,” in order that they
might not break their fast before the vesper hour. The fact is that, in
More’s opinion, a great deal of the outcry about the unmortified lives
of the religious and clergy had “been made in Germany” by those who
desired to throw off all such regulations for themselves. As a Teuton
had said to him in “Almaine” colloquial English--“when I blamed him,”
More says, “for not fasting on a certain day: ‘Fare to sould te laye
men fasten? let te prester fasten.’ So we, God knows, begin to fast
very little ourselves, but bid the ‘prester to fasten.’”[139]
“And as to such mortifications as the wearing of hair shirts, it
would indeed be hard to bind men, even priests, to do this, … though
among them many do so already, and some whole religious bodies too.”
If he says, as he does, that this “does not appear,” what would he
have? Would he wish them to publish to the world these penances? If
they take his, Saint-German’s, advice, “they will come out of their
cloisters every man into the market-place, and there kneel down in the
gutters, and make their prayers in the open streets, and wear their
hair shirts over their cowls, and then it shall appear and men shall
see it. And truly in this way there will be no hypocrisy for their
shirts of hair, and yet moreover it will be a good policy, for then
they will not prick them.”[140]
In the same way More points out that people in talking against the
wealth of the clergy are not less unreasonable than they are when
criticising what they call their idle, easy lives. “Not indeed that we
might not be able always to find plenty content to enter into their
possessions, though we could not always find men enough content to
enter their religions;” but when the matter is probed to the bottom,
and it is a question how their wealth “would be better bestowed,” then
“such ways as at the first face seemed very good and very charitable
for the comfort and help of poor folk, appeared after reasoning more
likely in a short while to make many more beggars than to relieve those
that are so already. And some other ways that at first appeared for
the greater advantage of the realm, and likely to increase the king’s
honour and be a great strength for the country, and a great security
for the prince as well as a great relief of the people’s charges,
appeared clearly after further discussion to be ‘clean contrary, and of
all other ways the worst.’”
“And to say the truth,” he continues, “I much marvel to see some
folk now speak so much and boldly about taking away any possessions
of the clergy.” For though once in the reign of Henry IV., “about the
time of a great rumble that the heretics made, when they would have
destroyed not only the clergy but the king and his nobility also, there
was a foolish and false bill or two put into Parliament and dismissed
as they deserved; yet in all my time, when I was conversant with the
court, I had never found of all the nobility of this land more than
seven (of which seven there are now three dead) who thought that it
was either right or reasonable, or could be any way profitable to the
realm, without lawful cause to take away from the clergy any of the
possessions which good and holy princes, and other devout, virtuous
people, of whom many now are blessed saints in heaven, have of devotion
towards God given to the clergy to serve God and pray for all Christian
souls.”[141]
In his _Confutation of Tyndale’s Answer_, made in 1532, when Sir
Thomas More was still Lord Chancellor of England, he protests against
imputations made by his adversary and his follower Barnes, that the
clergy were as a body corrupt. “Friar Barnes lasheth out against them,
against their pride and pomp, and all their lives spent in” vicious
living, “as if there were not a good priest in all the Catholic
Church.… He jesteth on them because they wear crowns and long gowns,
and the bishops wear rochets. And he hath likened them to bulls,
asses, and apes, and the rochets to smocks.” “But he forgets how many
good virtuous priests and religious people be put out of their places
(in Germany) and spoiled of their living, and beaten, and sent out
a-begging, while heretics and apostates, with their women, keep their
shameless lives with the living that holy folks have dedicated unto God
for the support of such as would serve God in spiritual cleanness and
vowed chastity. He knows well enough, I warrant you, that the clergy
can never lack persecution where heretics may grow; nor soon after
the temporality either, as it has hitherto been proved in every such
country yet.”[142]
He will not repeat all his “ribald railing upon all the clergy of
Christendom who will not be heretics” when he calls “them bulls, apes,
asses and abominable harlots and devils.” … “No good man doubts,
although among the clergy there are many full bad (as, indeed, it were
hard to have it otherwise among so great a multitude, whilst Christ’s
own twelve were not without a traitor), that there are again among them
many right virtuous folk, and such that the whole world beside fares
the better for their holy living and their devout prayer.”[143]
Beyond the above supposed causes for the growth of the dislike of
the clergy which Sir Thomas More weighs and considers in the above
extracts, Saint-German gives others which are instructive as to the
actual status of the clergy; but with which, as they do not reflect
upon their moral character, Sir Thomas More was not immediately
concerned in his reply. One occasion of the present difficulties and
division, writes Saint-German, “has partly arisen by temporal men who
have desired much the familiarity of priests in their games and sports,
and who were wont to make much more of those who were companionable
than of those that were not so, and have called them good fellows
and good companions. And many also would have chaplains which they
would not only suffer, but also command, to go hunting, hawking, and
such other vain disports; and some would let them lie among other lay
servants, where they could neither use prayer nor contemplation.”
Some even go so far as to insist on their chaplains wearing “liveries,”
which “are not convenient in colour for a priest to wear.” Others give
them worldly businesses to attend to in the way of stewardships, &c.,
“so that in this way their inward devotion of heart has become as
cold and as weak, in a manner, as it is in lay men.” Nevertheless, in
spite of the evil effect to be feared from this training, they do not
hesitate to put them into the first benefice they have to dispose of;
“and when they have done so, they will anon speak evil of priests, and
report great lightness in them, and lightly compare the faults of one
priest with another.” This they do “even when they themselves have been
partly the occasion of their offences.”
Moreover, “where by the law all priests ought to be at the (parish)
church on Sundays and holidays, and help the service of God in the
choir, and also, when there, to be under the orders of the curate
(or parish priest of the place), yet nevertheless many men who have
chaplains will not allow them to come to the parish church; and when
they are there, will not suffer them to receive their orders from the
curate, but only from themselves; nor will they tolerate seeing them in
the choir;” and what is the case with “chaplains and serving priests is
also (true) of chantry priests and brotherhood priests in many places.”
To remedy these evils, Saint-German thinks, as indeed every one would
be disposed to agree with him, that priests should be prohibited from
hunting and all such games as are unsuitable to the priestly character,
“though perchance he may, as for recreation, use honest disportes for a
time.” Moreover, he should not “frequent the ale house or tavern,” and,
if in his recreations the people are offended, he should be warned by
“an abbot and a justice of the peace of the shire.” If, after this, he
does not change, he ought to be suspended. Further than this, no one
should be permitted to have a chaplain who has not “a standing house,”
where the priest is able to have his private chamber with a lock and
key, so that “he may use himself therein conveniently in reading,
prayer, or contemplation, or such other labours and business as it is
convenient for a priest to use.”[144]
Both in his work on the _Division_ and in his previous tract,
_A Dyalogue between a Student of Law and a Doctor of Divinity_,
Saint-German lays great stress upon the question of mortuaries, as one
that gave great offence to lay people at the period when he wrote. As
he explained in the _Dyalogue_, the State had already interfered to
regulate the exactions made by custom at funerals, but nevertheless
“in some places the Church claims to have the taper that stands in the
middle of the hearse over the heart of the corpse, and some claim to
have all the tapers. Some also claim to have one of the torches that is
about the hearse, and others to have all the torches. And if the body
be brought in a charette or with coat armour or such other (ornaments),
then they claim all the horses and charette and the apparel or part
thereof.”[145] Now, in his other book, Saint-German thinks that though
these things “are annulled already by statute,” there is rising up
“a thing concerning mortuaries,” that “if it be allowed to continue”
will cause great difficulties in the near future. It is this: “Many
curates not regarding the king’s statute in that behalf, persuade
their parishioners when they are sick to believe that they cannot be
saved unless they restore them as much as the old mortuary would have
amounted to.” All those who act in such a way are, he thinks, “bound in
conscience to restitution, since they have obtained money under false
information.”[146]
After arguing that Parliament has a right to legislate in all matters
concerning goods and property, our author says: “It is certain that
all such mortuaries were temporal goods, though they were claimed by
spiritual men; and the cause why they were taken away was, because
there were few things within this realm which caused more variance
among the people than they did, when they were allowed. They were taken
so far against the king’s laws and against justice and right, as shall
hereafter appear. First they were taken not only after the husband’s
death, but also after the death of the wife, who by the law of the
realm had no goods, but what were the husband’s. They were taken also
from servants and children, as well infants as others; and if a man
died on a journey and had a household, he should pay mortuaries in both
places.” Whilst in some places both the parson and the vicar claimed
the mortuary; “and sometime even the curate (_i.e._ parish priest)
would prohibit poor men to sell their goods, as were likely to come to
them as mortuaries, for they would say it was done in order to defraud
the Church.” And the mortuaries had to be handed over at once, or they
would not bury the body. All these things led to the great growth of
mortuaries “by the prescription of the spiritual law, and had they not
been put an end to by Parliament they would have grown more and more.
“And in many places they were taken in such a way that it made the
people think that their curates loved their mortuaries better than
their lives. For this reason there rose in many places great division
and grudge between them, which caused a breach of the peace, love, and
charity that ought to be between the curate and his parishioners, to
the great unquietness of many of the king’s subjects, as well spiritual
as temporal, and to the great danger and peril of their souls. For
these causes the said mortuaries be annulled by Parliament, as well in
conscience as in law, and yet it is said that some curates use great
extremities concerning the said mortuaries another way; and that is
this: If at the first request the executor pay not the money that is
appointed by the statute, they will anon have a citation against him,
and in this he shall be so handled that, as it is said, it would have
been generally much better for him to have paid the old mortuary, than
the costs and expenses he will then have to pay.”[147]
Another fertile cause of complaint against the clergy at this time
was, in Saint-German’s opinion, the way in which tithes were exacted;
in many cases without much consideration for justice and reason. “In
some places, the curates all exact their tenth of everything within the
parish that is subject to tithe, although their predecessors from time
immemorial have been contented to do without it: and this even though
there is sufficient besides for the curates to live upon, and though
perchance in old time something else has been assigned in place of it.
In some places there has been asked, it is said, tithe of both chickens
and eggs; in some places of milk and cheese; and in some others tithe
of the ground and also of all that falleth to the ground. In other
places tithes of servants’ wages is claimed without any deduction; and
indeed it is in but few places that any servant shall go quite without
some payment of tithe, though he may have spent all in sickness, or
upon his father and mother, or such necessary expenses.”
Our author, from whom we get so much information as to the relations
which existed in pre-Reformation times between the clergy and people,
goes on to give additional instances of the possible hardships
incidental to the collection of the ecclesiastical dues. These,
where they exist, he, no doubt rightly, thinks do not tend to a good
understanding between those who have the cure of souls, and who ought
to be regarded rather in the light of spiritual fathers, than of
worldly tax collectors. He admits, however, that these are the abuses
of the few, and must not be considered as universally true of all
the clergy. “And though,” he concludes, “these abusions are not used
universally (God forbid that they should), for there are many good
curates and other spiritual men that would not use them to win any
earthly thing, yet when people of divers countries meet together, and
one tells another of some such extremity used by some curates in his
country, and the other in like manner to him, soon they come to think
that such covetousness and harsh dealing is common to all curates. And
although they do not well in so doing, for the offence of one priest
is no offence of any other, if they will so take it: yet spiritual men
themselves do nothing to bring the people out of this judgment; but
allow these abuses to be used by some without correcting them.”[148]
To these objections, and more of the same kind, Sir Thomas More did
not make, and apparently did not think it at all necessary to make,
any formal reply. Indeed, he probably considered that where such
things could be proved it would be both just and politic to correct
them. His failing to reply on this score, however, seems to have
been interpreted by Saint-German as meaning his rejection of all
blame attaching to the clerical profession in these matters. In the
_Deballacion of Salem and Byzance_, More protests that this is not his
meaning at all. “He says,” writes he, “that I, in my mind, prove it to
be an intolerable fault in the people to misjudge the clergy, since I
think they have no cause so to do, and that there I leave them, as if
all the whole cause and principal fault was in the temporality.” This,
More declares he never dreamed of, for “if he seek these seven years
in all my _Apology_, he shall find you no such words” to justify this
view. On the contrary, he will find that “I say in those places, ‘that
the people are too reasonable to take this or that thing’ amiss for
‘any reasonable cause of division.’”[149] The fact is, “I have never
either laid the principal fault to the one or to the other.” To much
that Saint-German said, More assented; and his general attitude to the
general accusations he states in these words: “Many of them I will pass
over untouched, both because most of them are such as every wise man
will, I suppose, answer them himself in the reading, and satisfy his
own mind without any need of my help therein, and because some things
are there also very well said.”
Reading the four books referred to above together, one is forced to the
conviction that the description of Sir Thomas More really represents
the state of the clergy as it then was. That there were bad as well as
good may be taken for granted, even without the admissions of More, but
that as a body the clergy, secular or religious, were as hopelessly bad
as subsequent writers have so often asked their readers to believe,
or even that they were as bad as the reports, started chiefly by
Lutheran emissaries, who were striving to plough up the soil in order
to implant the new German teachings in the place of the old religious
faith of England, would make out, is disproved by the tracts of both
Saint-German and Sir Thomas More. In such a discussion it may be taken
for granted that the worst would have appeared. Had the former any
evidence of general and hopeless corruption he would, when pressed by
his adversary, have brought it forward. Had the latter--whose honesty
and full knowledge must be admitted by all--any suspicion of what
later generations have been asked to believe as the true picture of
ecclesiastical life in pre-Reformation England, he would not have
dared, even if his irreproachable integrity would have permitted him,
to reject as a caricature and a libel even Christopher Saint-German’s
moderate picture.
In one particular More categorically denies a charge made by Tyndale
against the clergy in general, and against the Popes for permitting
so deplorable a state of things in regard to clerical morals.
As the charge first suggested by Tyndale has been repeated very
frequently down to our own time, it is useful to give the evidence
of so unexceptional authority as that of the Lord Chancellor of
England. Tyndale declared that although marriage was prohibited by
ecclesiastical law to the clergy of the Western Church, the Pope
granted leave “unto as many as bring money” to keep concubines. And
after asserting that this was the case in Germany, Wales, Ireland,
&c., he adds, “And in England thereto they be not few who have (this)
licence--some of the Pope, and some of their ordinaries.” To this More
says: “We have had many pardons come hither, and many dispensations
and many licences too, but yet I thank our Lord I never knew none
such, nor I trust never shall, nor Tyndale, I trow either; but that he
listeth loud to lie. And as for his licences customably given by the
ordinaries, I trust he lies in regard to other countries, for as for
England I am sure he lies.”[150]
It would of course be untrue to suggest that there were no grounds
whatever for objection to the clerical life of the period. At all
times the ministers of the Church of God are but human instruments,
manifesting now more now less the human infirmities of their nature.
A passage in a sermon preached by Bishop Longland of Lincoln in 1538
suggests that the most crying abuse among the clergy of that time was
simony. “Yet there is one thing, or ill which the prophet saw not in
this city (of Sodom). What is that? That which specially above other
things should have been seen. What is it? That which most is abused
in this world. I pray thee, what is it? Make no more ado: tell it.
That which almost destroyed the Church of Christ. Then, I pray thee,
shew it: shew what it is: let it be known, that remedy may be had and
the thing holpen. What is it? Forsooth it is simony, simony: chapping
and changing, buying and selling of benefices and of spiritual gifts
and promotions. And no better merchandise is nowadays than to procure
advowsons of patrons for benefices, for prebends, for other spiritual
livelihood, whether it be by suit, request, by letters, by money
bargain or otherwise: yea, whether it be to buy them or to sell them,
thou shalt have merchants plenty, merchants enough for it.
“These advowsons are abroad here in this city. In which city? In most
part of all the great cities of this realm. In the shops, in the
streets, a common merchandise. And they that do come by their benefices
or promotions under such a manner shall never have grace of God to
profit the Church.”[151]
It is interesting to recall the fact that the late Mr. Brewer, whose
intimate knowledge of this period of our national history is admitted
on all hands, arrived, after the fullest investigation, at a similar
conclusion as to the real state of the Church in pre-Reformation
England. Taking first the religious houses, this high authority
considers that no doubt many circumstances had contributed at this time
to lower the tone of religious discipline; but taking a broad survey,
the following is the historian’s verdict: “That in so large a body of
men, so widely dispersed, seated for so many centuries in the richest
and fairest estates of England, for which they were mainly indebted to
their own skill, perseverance, and industry, discreditable members were
to be found (and what literary _chiffonnier_, raking in the scandalous
annals of any profession, cannot find filth and corruption?) is likely
enough, but that the corruption was either so black or so general as
party spirit would have us believe, is contrary to all analogy, and is
unsupported by impartial and contemporary evidence.”[152]
“It is impossible,” he says in another place, “that the clergy can have
been universally immoral and the laity have remained sound, temperate,
and loyal.” This, by the way, is exactly what More, who lived in the
period, insisted upon.
“But,” continues Brewer, “if these general arguments are not
sufficient, I refer my readers to a very curious document, dated
the 8th of July 1519, when a search was instituted by different
commissioners on a Sunday night, in London and its suburbs, for all
suspected and disorderly persons. I fear no parish in London, nor any
town in the United Kingdom, of the same amount of population, would
at this day pass a similar ordeal with equal credit.”[153] And in
another place he sums up the question in these words: “Considering
the temper of the English people, it is not probable that immorality
could have existed among the ancient clergy to the degree which the
exaggeration of poets, preachers, and satirists might lead us to
suppose. The existence of such corruption is not justified by authentic
documents or by any impartial and broad estimate of the character and
conduct of the nation before the Reformation. If these complaints of
preachers and moralists are to be accepted as authoritative on this
head, there would be no difficulty in producing abundant evidence from
the Reformers themselves that the abuses and enormities of their own
age, under Edward VI. and Elizabeth, were far greater than in the ages
preceding.”[154]
It is too often assumed that in the choice and education of the
clergy little care and discretion was exercised by the bishops and
other responsible officials, and that thus those unfit for the
sacred ministry by education and character often found their way
into the priesthood. In the last Convocation held on the eve of the
Reformation a serious attempt was evidently made to correct whatever
abuses existed in this matter, when it was enacted that no bishop
might ordain any subject not born in his diocese or beneficed in it,
or without a domicile in it for three months, even with dimissorial
letters. Further, that no secular clerk should be ordained without
testimonial letters as to character from the parish priest of the
place where he was born or had lived for three years, sealed by the
archdeacon of the district, or in the case of a university, by the seal
of the vice-chancellor. No one whatsoever was to be admitted to the
subdiaconate “who was not so versed in the Epistles and Gospels, at
least those contained in the Missal, as to be able at once to explain
their grammatical meaning to the examiner.” He must also show that he
understands and knows whatever pertains to his office.[155]
The most important book of this period dealing with the life and
education of the clergy is a tract printed by Wynkyn de Worde about
the beginning of the sixteenth century. It was written by William
de Melton, Chancellor of York, and at the end is the declaration of
Colet, that he has read it and highly approves of its contents.[156]
The author states that he desires to instruct the “many young men” who
every Ember time come up to York for ordination in their duties. No
person, he says, ought to present himself to receive the priesthood
who is not prepared to lead a life in all things worthy of the sacred
ministry. He should remember that he is really to be accounted one
of the twelve who sat with our Lord at His last supper. He must be
sufficiently versed in the learning of the world not to dishonour the
priestly calling, and above all be taught in His school “who has said,
‘Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart.’”
“And since I am now on the question of those only partly well learned,”
continues the author, “I wish all coming for ordination to understand
that always and everywhere those who have not yet attained to at least
a fair knowledge of good letters are to be rejected as candidates for
Holy Orders. They can in no way be considered to have a fair knowledge
of letters who, though skilful in grammar, do not possess the science
well enough to read promptly and easily Latin books, and above all,
the sacred Scriptures, and expound their meaning and the literal
signification of the words as they stand in the books; and this not
haltingly, but readily and easily, so as to show that they know the
language not merely slightly and slenderly, but that they possess a
full and radical knowledge of it and its construction. Therefore, those
who read the sacred Scriptures or other Latin work with difficulty,
or, whilst reading, often mistake the proper connection of the words,
or read them with such pauses as to seem not to be used to the Latin
language, are to be refused Sacred Orders until, by diligent study,
they have become more skilled in their letters.”
In the same way the tract goes on to declare that those who are unable
to explain or understand the spiritual signification of Scripture
are to be refused ordination to the sacred ministry until they show
themselves at least fairly well able to do so. “To be reckoned among
even the fairly proficient, we require,” says the author, “such a
thorough and sure foundation of grammatical knowledge that there may be
hopes that alone and without other teachers they may, from books and
diligent study, endeavour day by day to improve themselves by reading
and study.” Then addressing the candidates the author begs them, if
they feel they have not this necessary foundation, “not through mere
presumption to offer themselves to the examiners.” “Seek not a position
in the Church of God in which neither now nor during your whole life
will you be able to show yourself a fitting minister. For those who
before taking Holy Orders have not fitted themselves fairly well in
learning rarely if ever are seen to make progress in literature. On the
contrary, they ever remain, even to old age, dunces and stupid, and,
furthermore, such priests known to the common people for such manifest
ignorance are a great scandal which involves the whole sacred ministry.”
Great damage is done to the whole Church of God through the ignorance
of the clergy. Both in towns and country places there are priests
who occupy themselves, some in mean and servile work, some who give
themselves to tavern drinking; the former can hardly help mixing
themselves up with women, the latter employ their time in games of
dice, &c., and some of them pass it in the vanities of hunting and
hawking. Thus do they spend their whole lives to extreme old age in
idleness and non-religious occupations. Nor could they do otherwise,
for as they are quite ignorant of good letters, how can they be
expected to work at and take a pleasure in reading and study; rather
throwing away these despised and neglected books, they turn to that
kind of miserable and unpriestly life described above, hoping to kill
time and cure their dulness by such things.
He then goes on to exhort the young to implant in their hearts a strong
desire to study deeply in the books of God’s Law rather than to be
tainted thus by the stains and vanities of the world which they were
supposed to have left. “It is,” he continues, “impossible that such a
holy desire should possess you, unless you have made progress in such
studies before taking Holy Orders, and are so advanced in your literary
studies that the reading of many books is both easy and pleasant
to you, and the construction of the meaning of a passage no longer
difficult, but whilst reading you may quickly and easily follow at
least the literal sense of the sentence.”
This interesting tract then goes on to warn subdeacons not to take
upon themselves the perpetual obligations of Sacred Orders unless
they are conscious to themselves of no reason or objection, however
secret and hidden, which may stand in the way of their faithfully
keeping their promises. They must feel that they enter the ranks of
the clergy only from the motive of serving God. Then, after warning
the clergy against the vices which specially detract from the sacred
character of the priesthood, the author continues, “Let us therefore
turn to study, reading, and meditation of the Holy Scriptures as the
best remedy against unworthy sloth and foolish desires. Let us not
consume the time given us uselessly and fruitlessly.” A priest should
say his Hours and Mass daily. He should spend the morning till mid-day
in choir and other works, and even then not think he has fulfilled the
whole duty of the priesthood. A priest is bound to serious studies and
meditation. “Constant reading and meditation of the books of God’s law
and the writings of the holy Fathers and Doctors are the best remedy
for slothful habits,” and these have been put at the disposition of
all through the printing-press. Just as a workman has besides his shop
a workroom where he has to spend hours preparing the wares that he
offers for sale, so the priest, who in the church on Sunday offers his
people the things necessary for salvation, should spend days and nights
in holy reading and study in order to make them his own before he
hands them on to others. “Wherefore, my dearest brethren, let us think
ourselves proper priests only when we find our delight and joy in the
constant study of Holy Scripture.”
So much for the important advice given to priests or those intending
to be priests as to the necessity of acquiring previous habits of
study. Not infrequently the fact that in 1532 Parliament did actually
transfer the power of ecclesiastical legislation hitherto possessed by
Convocation to the Crown, is adduced as proof that to the nation at
large the powers of the clergy, for a long time resented, had at length
become a yoke not to be borne. Yet it is clear that the policy of the
king to crush the clergy in this way was by no means heartily supported
by the Commons. There can be no doubt whatever that the petition of
the Commons against the spirituality really emanated from the Court,
and that the Lower House was compelled by direct royal influence to
take the course indicated by royal will. Four drafts of the petition
existing among the State papers in the Record Office put this beyond
doubt, as they are all corrected in the well-known hand of Henry’s
adviser at this time, Thomas Cromwell. The substance of the petition
states that on account of the diffusion of heretical books, and the
action of the bishops in spiritual courts, “much discord had arisen
between the clergy and the laity at large.” The answer of the bishops
denies all knowledge of this discord, at least on their parts. The
ordinaries, they said, exercised spiritual jurisdiction, and no one
might interfere in that, as their right to make laws in this sphere
was from God, and could be proved by Scripture. The two jurisdictions
could not clash as they were derived from the same source, namely, the
authority given by God. Finally, they practically refused to consider
the possibility of any just royal interference in matters of the purely
ecclesiastical domain. Their resistance was, of course, as we know,
of no avail; but the incident shows that up to the very eve of the
changes the clergy had no notion of any surrender of their spiritual
prerogatives, and that it was the Crown and not the Commons that was
hostile to them.[157]
CHAPTER VI
ERASMUS
During the first portion of the sixteenth century Erasmus occupied a
unique position in Europe. He was beyond question the most remarkable
outcome of the renaissance in its literary aspect; and he may fairly
be taken as a type of the critical attitude of mind in which many
even of the best and the most loyal Catholics of the day approached
the consideration of the serious religious problems which were, at
that time, forcing themselves upon the notice of the ecclesiastical
authorities. Such men held that the best service a true son of the
Church could give to religion was the service of a trained mind, ready
to face facts as they were, convinced that the Christian faith had
nothing to lose by the fullest light and the freest investigation, but
at the same time protesting that they would suffer no suspicion to
rest on their entire loyalty of heart to the authority of the teaching
Church.
Keenly alive to the spiritual wants of the age, and to what he, in
common with many others of the time, considered crying abuses in
the government of the Church, resulting from the excessive temporal
grandeur of ecclesiastics engaged in secular sovereignty and
government, Erasmus, like many of his contemporaries, is often perhaps
injudicious in the manner in which he advocated reforms. But when the
matter is sifted to the bottom, it will commonly be found that his
ideas are just. He clamoured loudly and fearlessly for the proper
enforcing of ecclesiastical discipline, and for a complete change in
the stereotyped modes of teaching; and he proclaimed the need of a
thorough literary education for Churchmen as the best corrective of
what he held to be the narrowing formalism of mediæval scholastic
training. It is, perhaps, hardly wonderful that his general attitude
in these matters should have been misunderstood and exaggerated. By
many of his Catholic contemporaries he was looked upon as a secret
rebel against received authority, and in truth as the real intellectual
force of the whole Lutheran movement. By the Reformers themselves,
regarded as at heart belonging to them, he was upbraided as a coward,
and spoken of as one who had not the courage of his convictions.
Posterity has represented him now in the one aspect, now in the other,
now as at best a lukewarm Catholic, now as a secret and dangerous
heretic. By most Catholics probably he has been regarded as a Reformer,
as pronounced even as Luther himself; or to use the familiar phrase
founded upon an expression of his own, they considered that “his was
the egg which Luther hatched.” Few writers have endeavoured to read
any meaning into his seemingly paradoxical position by reference to
his own explanations, or by viewing it in the light of the peculiar
circumstances of the times in which he lived, and which are, to some
extent at least, responsible for it.
Desiderius Erasmus was born at Rotterdam, in the year 1467. His
father’s Christian name was Gerhard, of which Desiderius was intended
for the Latin, and Erasmus for the Greek, equivalent. Other surname
he had none, as he was born out of wedlock; but his father adopted
the responsibility of his education, for which he provided by placing
him first as a chorister in the cathedral of Utrecht, and subsequently
by sending him to Deventer, then one of the best schools in Northern
Europe. Deventer was at that time presided over by the learned
scholar and teacher Alexander Hegius, and amongst his fellow-students
there, Erasmus found several youths who subsequently, as men, won for
themselves renown in the learned world. One of them, under the title of
Adrian VI., subsequently occupied the Papal chair.
His father and mother both died of the plague whilst Erasmus was still
young. At the age of thirteen he was taken from Deventer by the three
guardians to whose charge he had been committed, and sent to a purely
ecclesiastical school, meant to prepare those intended only for a life
in the cloister. Here he remained for three years, and after having for
a considerable time resisted the suggestions of his masters that he
should join their Order, he finally entered the novitiate of the Canons
Regular of St. Augustine at Stein, near Gouda. Here he was professed at
the age of nineteen, and after the usual interval was ordained priest.
Much obscurity and many apparent contradictions prevent us fully
understanding Erasmus’s early life, and in particular the portion spent
by him in the cloister. One thing, however, would seem to be quite
clear; he could never have had any vocation for the religious life. His
whole subsequent history shows this unmistakeably; and the ill-judged
zeal of those who practically forced him into a state for which he
was constitutionally unfitted, and for which he had no aptitude or
inclination, must, if we take his account of the facts as correct,
be as strongly condemned by all right-thinking people as by himself.
He, however, appears not to have understood that this may have been a
special case, and not the usual lot of youths entering religion. One
evident result of his experience is the bitter feeling created in his
heart towards the religious Orders and the uncompromising hostility he
ever after displayed towards them. In the celebrated letter he wrote
to the papal secretary, Lambert Grunnius, which was intended for the
information of the Pope himself, and which is supposed to describe
his own case, Erasmus justly condemns in the strongest language the
practice of enticing youths into the cloister before they were fully
aware of what they were doing. If we are to believe the statements
made in that letter, Erasmus did not think that his was by any means
a singular case. Agents of the religious Orders, he declared, were
ever hanging about the schools and colleges, endeavouring to entice
the youthful students into their ranks by any and every method. But he
is careful to add, “I do not condemn the religious Orders as such.
I do not approve of those who make the plunge and then fly back to
liberty as a licence for loose living, and desert improperly what they
undertook foolishly. But dispositions vary; all things do not suit all
characters, and no worse misfortune can befall a youth of intellect
than to be buried under conditions from which he can never after
extricate himself. The world thought well of my schoolmaster guardian
because he was neither a liar nor a scamp nor a gambler, but he was
coarse, avaricious, and ignorant, he knew nothing beyond the confused
lessons he taught to his classes. He imagined that in forcing a youth
to become a monk he would be offering a sacrifice acceptable to God.
He used to boast of the many victims which he destined to Dominic and
Francis and Benedict.”[158]
Without any taste for the routine of conventual life, and with his mind
filled by an ardent love of letters, which there seemed in the narrow
circle of his cloister no prospect of ever being able to gratify,
the short period of Erasmus’s stay at Stein must have been to him in
the last degree uncongenial and irksome. Fortunately, however, for
his own peace of mind and for the cause of general learning, a means
was quickly found by which he was practically emancipated from the
restraints he ought never to have undertaken. The Bishop of Cambray
obtained permission to have him as secretary, and after keeping him a
short time in this position he enabled him to proceed to the University
of Paris. From this time Erasmus was practically released from the
obligations of conventual life; and in 1514, when some question had
been raised about his return to the cloister, he readily obtained from
the Pope a final release from a form of life for which obviously he was
constitutionally unfitted, and the dress of which he had been permitted
to lay aside seven years previously.
The generosity of his episcopal patron did not suffice to meet all
Erasmus’s wants. To add to his income he took pupils, and with one of
them, Lord Mountjoy, he came to England in 1497. He spent, apparently,
the next three years at Oxford, living in the house which his Order
had at that University; whilst there he made the acquaintance of the
most learned Englishmen of that time, and amongst others of Grocyn,
Linacre, and Colet. He also at this time took up the study of the Greek
language, with which previously he had but a slender acquaintance, and
his ardour was so great that the following year, 1498, whilst at work
on the _Adagia_, he could write, “I am giving my whole soul to the
study of Greek; directly I get some money I shall buy Greek authors
first, and then some clothes.” From 1499 to 1506 he was continually
moving about in various learned centres of France and Holland, his
longest stay being at the University of Louvain.
In the April of 1506 he was again in England, first with Archbishop
Warham and Sir Thomas More in London, and subsequently at Cambridge;
but in a few months he was enabled to carry out the plan of visiting
Italy which he had long contemplated. He engaged to escort the two sons
of Sebastian Boyer, the English court physician, as far as Bologna, and
by September he was already in Turin, where he took his doctor’s degree
in divinity. The winter of the same year he passed at Bologna, and
reached Venice in the spring of 1507.
His main object in directing his steps to this last-named city was
to pass the second and enlarged edition of his _Adagia_ through the
celebrated Aldine printing-press. Here he found gathered together,
within reach of the press, a circle of illustrious scholars. Aldus
himself, a man, as Erasmus recalled in a letter written in 1524,
“approaching the age of seventy years, but in all matters relating to
letters still in the prime of his youth,” was his host. In 1508 Erasmus
removed to Padua, and the following year passed on to Rome, where he
was well received. His stay in the eternal city at this time was not
prolonged, for a letter received from Lord Mountjoy announcing the
death of Henry VII., and the good affection of his youthful successor
to learning, determined him to turn his face once more towards England.
He had left the country with keen regret, for, as he wrote to Dean
Colet, “I can truly say that no place in the world has given me so many
friends--true, learned, helpful, and illustrious friends--as the single
city of London,” and he looked forward to his return with pleasurable
expectation.
For a brief period on his arrival again in this country Erasmus stayed
in London at the house of Sir Thomas More, where, at his suggestion,
he wrote the _Enconium Moriæ_, one of the works by which he is best
known to the general reader, and the one, perhaps, the spirit of which
has the most given rise to many mistaken notions as to the author’s
religious convictions.
From London, in 1510, he was invited by Bishop Fisher to come and
teach at Cambridge, where by his influence he had been appointed Lady
Margaret Professor of Divinity and Regius Reader of Greek. “Unless I
am much mistaken,” Erasmus writes, “the Bishop of Rochester is a man
without an equal at this time, both as to integrity of life, learning,
or broad-minded sympathies. One only do I except, as a very Achilles,
the Archbishop of Canterbury (Warham), who alone keeps me in London,
though I confess not very unwillingly.”[159]
In estimating the spirit which dictated the composition of the _Moriæ_,
it is well to remember not only that it represented almost as much
the thought and genius of Sir Thomas More as of Erasmus himself, but
that, at the very time it was taking definite shape in More’s house at
Chelsea, the author’s two best friends were the two great and devout
churchmen, Archbishop Warham and the saintly Bishop Fisher. Moreover,
Sir Thomas More himself denies that to this work of Erasmus there can
justly be affixed the note of irreverence or irreligion; he answers
for the good intention of the author, and accepts his own share of
responsibility for the publication of the book.
The period of Erasmus’s stay at Cambridge did not extend beyond three
years. The stipend attached to his professorships was not large, and
Erasmus was still, apparently, in constant want of money. Archbishop
Warham continued his friend, and by every means tried continually to
interest others directly in the cause of learning and indirectly in
the support of Erasmus, who is ever complaining that his means are
wholly inadequate to supply his wants. The scholar, however, remained
on the best of terms with all the chief English churchmen of the day,
until, as he wrote to the Abbot of St. Bertin, “Erasmus has been
almost transformed into an Englishman, with such overwhelming kindness
do so many treat me, and above all, my special Mæcenas, the Archbishop
of Canterbury. He indeed is not only my patron, but that of all the
learned, amongst whom I but hold a low place. Immortal gods! how
pleasant, how ready, how fertile is the wit of that man! What dexterity
does he not show in managing the most complicated business! What
exceptional learning! What singular courtesy does he not extend to all!
What gaiety and geniality at interviews! so that he never sends people
away from him sad. Added to this, how great and how prompt is his
liberality! He alone seems to be ignorant of his own great qualities
and the height of his dignity and fortune. No one can be more true and
faithful to his friends; and, in a word, he is truly a Primate, not
only in dignity, but in everything worthy of praise.”[160]
Erasmus returns to this same subject in writing to a Roman Cardinal
about this time. When I think, he says, of the Italian sky, the rich
libraries, and the society of the learned men in Rome, I am tempted to
look back to the eternal city with regret. “But the wonderful kindness
of William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, to me mitigates my desire
to return. Had he been my father or brother he could not have been
more kind and loving. I have been accorded, too, the same reception
by many other bishops of England. Amongst these stands pre-eminent
the Bishop of Rochester, a man who, in addition to his uprightness of
life, is possessed of deep and varied learning, and of a soul above all
meanness, for which gifts he is held here in England in the highest
estimation.”[161]
Erasmus certainly had reason to be grateful to Warham and his other
English friends for their ready attention to his, at times importunate,
requests. Warham, he writes at one time, “has given me a living worth
a hundred nobles and changed it at my request into a pension of one
hundred crowns. Within these few years he has given me more than four
hundred nobles without my asking. One day he gave me one hundred and
fifty. From other bishops I have received more than one hundred, and
Lord Mountjoy has secured me a pension of one hundred crowns.” In fact,
in the _Compendium Vitæ_, a few years later, he says that he would have
remained for the rest of his life in England had the promises made to
him been always fulfilled. This constant and importunate begging on
the part of the great scholar forms certainly an unpleasant feature
in his life. He gets from Dean Colet fifteen angels for a dedication,
and in reference to his translation of St. Basil on the Prophet
Isaias, begs Colet to find out whether Bishop Fisher will be inclined
“to ease his labours with a little reward,” adding himself, “O this
begging! I know well enough that you will be laughing at me.”[162]
Again, whilst lamenting his poverty and his being compelled to beg
continually in this way, he adds that Linacre has been lecturing him
for thus pestering his friends, and has warned him to spare Archbishop
Warham and his friend Mountjoy a little. In this same letter, written
in October 1513, there are signs of friction with some of the
Cambridge teachers of theology, which may have helped Erasmus in his
determination once more to leave England. Not that he professed to care
what people thought, for he tells Colet he does not worry about those
whom he calls in derision “the Scotists,” but would treat them as he
would a wasp. Nevertheless, he is still half inclined by the opposition
to stop the work he is engaged on; confessing, also, that he is almost
turned away from the design of thus translating St. Basil, as the
Bishop of Rochester is not anxious for him to do it, and--at least so a
friend has told him--rather suspects that he is translating, not from
the original Greek, but is making use of a Latin version.
Almost immediately after writing this letter Erasmus again bade
farewell to England, and passed up the Rhine to Strasburg, where he
made the acquaintance of Wimpheling, Sebastian Brant, and others. The
following year, 1515, he went on to Basle, attracted by the great
reputation of the printing-press set up in that city by Froben. He was
there eagerly welcomed by the bishop of the city, who had gathered
round him many men imbued with the true spirit of learning; and Erasmus
soon became the centre of this brilliant group of scholars. From this
time Basle became Erasmus’s home, although, especially in the early
years, he was always on the move. He paid a flying visit once more, in
1517, to England, but he had learnt to love his independence too much
to entertain any proposals for again undertaking duties that would tie
him to any definite work in any definite place. Even the suggestions of
friends that he would find congenial and profitable pursuits in England
were unheeded, and he remained unmoved even when his friend Andrew
Ammonius wrote to say the king himself was looking for his return.
“What about Erasmus?” Henry had asked. “When is he coming back to us?
He is the light of our age. Oh that he would return to us!”[163]
From England, however, he continued to receive supplies of money;
although his circumstances improved so much with the steady circulation
of his books, that he was not at this second period of his life
so dependent upon the charity of his friends. About the year 1520
Erasmus settled permanently at Basle as literary superintendent of
Froben’s press. What, no doubt, induced him to do so, even more than
the offer of this position, was the fact that Basle had then become,
by the establishment of printing-presses by Amberbach and Froben,
the centre of the German book-trade. Froben died in 1527, and that
circumstance, as well as the religious troubles which, separating Basle
from the empire and making it the focus of civil strife, ended in
wrecking learning there altogether, put an end to Erasmus’s connection
with the press which for eight years had taken the lead of all the
presses of Europe. Not only was the literary superintendence of the
work completely in the hands of Erasmus during this period which he
described as his “mill,” but all the dedications and prefaces to
Froben’s editions of the Fathers were the distinct work of his own
pen. His literary activity at this period was enormous, and only the
power he had acquired of working with the greatest rapidity could
have enabled him to cope with the multiplicity of demands made upon
him. Scaliger relates that Aldus informed him Erasmus could do twice
as much work in a given time as any other man he had ever met. This
untiring energy enabled him to cope with the immense correspondence
which, as he says, came pouring in “daily from almost all parts, from
kings, princes, prelates, men of learning, and even from persons
of whose existence I was, till then, ignorant,” and caused him not
infrequently to write as many as forty letters a day.
On Froben’s death in 1527, the fanatical religious contentions forced
him to remove to Freiburg, in Breisgau, where he resided from 1529 to
1535. The need for seeing his _Ecclesiastes_ through the press, as well
as a desire to revisit the scenes of his former activity, took him back
to Basle; but his health had been giving way for some years, and, at
the age of sixty-nine, he expired at Basle on July 12, 1536.
Such is a brief outline of the life of the most remarkable among the
leaders of the movement known as the renaissance of letters. Without
some general knowledge of the main facts of his life and work, it
would be still more difficult than it is to understand the position
he took in regard to the great religious revolution during the later
half of his life. With these main facts before us we may turn to a
consideration of his mental attitude towards some of the many momentous
questions which were then searching men’s hearts and troubling their
souls.
In the first place, of course, comes the important problem of Erasmus’s
real position as regards the Church itself and its authority. That he
was outspoken on many points, even on points which we now regard as
well within the border-line of settled matters of faith and practice,
may be at once admitted, but he never appears to have wavered in his
determination at all costs to remain true and loyal to the Pope and
the other constituted ecclesiastical authorities. The open criticism
of time-worn institutions in which he indulged, and the sweeping
condemnation of the ordinary teachings of the theological schools,
which he never sought to disguise, brought him early in his public life
into fierce antagonism with many devoted believers in the system then
in vogue.
The publication of his translation of the New Testament from the Greek
brought matters to an issue. The general feeling in England and amongst
those best able to judge had been favourable to the undertaking, and
on its first appearance Erasmus was assured of the approval of the
learned world at the English universities.[164] More wrote Latin verses
addressed to the reader of the new translation, calling it “the holy
work and labour of the learned and immortal Erasmus,” to purify the
text of God’s Word. Colet was warm in its praises. Copies, he writes to
Erasmus, are being readily bought and read. Many approved, although,
of course, as was to be expected, some spoke against the undertaking.
In England, as elsewhere, says Colet, “we have theologians such as you
describe in your _Moriæ_, by whom to be praised is dishonour, to be
blamed is the highest praise.” For his part, Colet has, he says, only
one regret that he did not himself know Greek sufficiently well to be
able fully to appreciate what Erasmus had done, though “he is only
too thankful for the light that has been thrown upon the true meaning
of the Holy Scripture.” Archbishop Warham writes what is almost an
official letter, to tell Erasmus that his edition of the New Testament
has been welcomed by all his brother bishops in England to whom he
has shown it. Bishop Tunstall was away in Holland, where, amidst the
insanitary condition of the islands of Zeeland, which he so graphically
describes, he finds consolation in the study of the work. He cannot
too highly praise it--not merely as the opening up of Greek sources of
information upon the meaning of the Bible, but as affording the fullest
commentary on the sacred text.[165] Bishop Fisher was equally clear as
to the service rendered to religion by Erasmus in this version of the
Testament; and when, in 1519, Froben had agreed to bring out a second
edition, Erasmus turned to Fisher and More to assist in making the
necessary corrections.[166]
More defended his friend most strenuously. Writing to Marten Dorpius
in 1515, he upbraided him with suggesting that theologians would never
welcome the help afforded to biblical studies by Erasmus’s work on the
Greek text of the Bible. He ridicules as a joke not meriting a serious
reply the report that Erasmus and his friends had declared there was
no need of the theologians and philosophers, but that grammar would
suffice. Erasmus, who has studied in the universities of Paris, Padua,
Bologna, and Rome, and taught with distinction in some of them, is
not likely to hold such absurd ideas. At the same time, More does not
hesitate to say that in many things he thinks some theologians are to
be blamed, especially those who, rejecting all positive science, hold
that man is born to dispute about questions of all kinds which have not
the least practical utility “even as regards the _pietas fidei_ or the
cultivation of sound morals.”
At great length More defends the translation against the insinuations
made by Dorpius, who evidently regarded it as a sacrilege to suggest
that the old Latin editions in use in the Church were incorrect. St.
Jerome, says More, did not hesitate to change when he believed the
Latin to be wrong, and Dorpius’s suggestion that Erasmus should have
only noted the errors and not actually made any change would, had
the same principle been applied, have prevented St. Jerome’s work
altogether. If it was thought proper that the Latin codices should be
corrected at that time by Greek manuscripts, why not now? The Church
had then an equally recognised version before the corrections of St.
Jerome.[167]
There were, indeed, as might be expected, some discordant notes in the
general chorus of English praise. For the time, however, they remained
unheeded, and, in fact, were hardly heard amid the general verdict
of approval, in which the Pope, cardinals, and other highly-placed
ecclesiastics joined. Erasmus, however, was fully prepared for
opposition of a serious character. Writing to Cambridge at the time, he
says that he knows what numbers of people prefer “their old _mumpsimus_
to the new _sumpsimus_,” and condemn the undertaking on the plea that
no such work as the correction of the text of Holy Scripture ought to
be undertaken without the authority of a general Council.[168]
It is easy to understand the grounds upon which men who had been
trained on old methods looked with anxiety, and even horror, at this
new departure. Scholarship and literary criticism, when applied to the
pagan classics, might be tolerable enough; but what would be the result
were the same methods to be used in the examination of the works of
the Fathers, and more especially in criticism of the text of the Holy
Scripture itself? Overmuch study of the writings of ancient Greece and
Rome had, it appeared to many, in those days, hardly tended to make the
world much better: even in high places pagan models had been allowed to
displace ideals and sentiments, which, if barbarous and homely, were
yet Christian. Theologians had long been accustomed to look upon the
Latin Vulgate text as almost sacrosanct, and after the failure of the
attempt in the thirteenth century to improve and correct the received
version, no critical revision had been dreamt of as possible, or indeed
considered advisable. Those best able to judge, such as Warham and More
and Fisher, were not more eager to welcome, than others to condemn and
ban, this attempt on the part of Erasmus to apply the now established
methods of criticism to the sacred text. Not that the edition itself
was in reality a work of either sound learning or thorough scholarship.
As an edition of the Greek Testament it is now allowed on all hands
to have no value whatever; but the truth is, that the Greek played
only a subordinate part in Erasmus’s scheme. His principal object was
to produce a new Latin version, and to justify this he printed the
Greek text along with it. And this, though in itself possessing little
critical value, was, in reality, the starting-point for all modern
Biblical criticism. As a modern writer has said, “Erasmus did nothing
to solve the problem, but to him belongs the honour of having first
propounded it.”
It must, however, be borne in mind that the publication of Erasmus’s
New Testament was not, as is claimed for it by some modern writers,
a new revelation of the Gospel to the world at large, nor is it true
that the sacred text had become so obscured by scholastic theological
disquisitions on side issues as almost to be forgotten. According to
Mr. Froude, “the New Testament to the mass of Christians was an unknown
book,” when Erasmus’s edition, which was multiplied and spread all
over Europe, changed all this. Pious and ignorant men had come to look
on the text of the Vulgate as inspired. “Read it intelligently they
could not, but they had made the language into an idol, and they were
filled with horrified amazement when they found in page after page
that Erasmus had anticipated modern critical corrections of the text,
introduced various readings, and re-translated passages from the Greek
into a new version.”[169] The truth is that the publication of the New
Testament was in no sense an appeal _ad populum_, but to the cultivated
few. A writer in the _Quarterly Review_, commenting upon Mr. Froude’s
picture of the effect of the new edition on the people generally, is by
no means unjust when he says, “Erasmus beyond all question would have
been very much astonished by this account of the matter. Certain it is
that during the Middle Ages the minds of the most popular preachers and
teachers (and we might add of the laity too) were saturated with the
sacred Scriptures.”[170]
Loud, however, was the outcry in many quarters against the rash author.
His translations were glibly condemned, and it was pointed out as
conclusive evidence of his heterodoxy that he had actually changed some
words in the Our Father, and substituted the word _congregatio_ for
_ecclesia_.[171]
The year 1519 witnessed the most virulent and persistent attacks upon
the good name of Erasmus. Of these, and the malicious reports being
spread about him, he complains in numerous letters at this period.
One Englishman in particular at this time, and subsequently, devoted
all his energies to prove not only that Erasmus had falsified many of
his translations, but that his whole spirit in undertaking the work
was manifestly uncatholic. This was Edward Lee, then a comparatively
unknown youth, but who was subsequently created Archbishop of York.
In February 1519, Erasmus wrote to Cardinal Wolsey, complaining of
these continued attacks upon his work, although so many learned men,
including bishops, cardinals, and even the Pope Leo X. himself, had
given their cordial approval to the undertaking. Those who were at the
bottom of the movement against the work, he considered, were those
who had not read it, though they still had no shame in crying out
against it and its author. He was told that in some public discourses
in England he had been blamed for translating the word _verbum_ in St.
John’s Gospel by _sermo_, and about this matter he addressed a letter
to the Pope defending himself.[172] To the Bishop of Winchester he
wrote more explicitly about his chief opponent. “By your love for me,”
he says, “I beg you will not too readily credit those sycophants about
me, for by their action all things seem to me at present infected by
a deadly plague. If Edward Lee can prove that he knows better than I
do, he will never offend me. But when he, by writing and speech, and
by means of his followers, spreads rumours hurtful to my reputation,
he is not even rightly consulting his own reputation. He has openly
shown a hostile spirit against me, who never, either in word or deed,
have done him harm. He is young, and lusts for fame.… Time will bring
all to light. Truth may be obscured; overcome it cannot be.”[173] To
the English king he writes that in all he had published he had been
actuated by the sole desire to glorify Christ, and in this particular
work had obtained the highest approval, even that of the Pope himself.
Some people, indeed, have conspired to destroy his good name. They are
so pleased with their “old wine,” that “Erasmus’s new” does not satisfy
them. Edward Lee had been instigated to become their champion, and
Erasmus only wished that Lee were not an Englishman, since he owed more
to England than to any other nation, and did not like to think ill even
of an individual.[174]
When men are thoroughly alarmed, they do not stop to reason or count
the cost; and so those, who saw in the work of Erasmus nothing but
danger to the Church, at once jumped to the conclusion that the root
of the danger really lay in the classical revival itself, of which
he was regarded as the chief exponent and apostle. The evil must be
attacked in its cause, and the spread of the canker, which threatened
to eat into the body of the Christian Church, stayed before it was too
late. From the theologians of Louvain, with which university Erasmus
was then connected, he experienced the earliest and most uncompromising
opposition. He was “daily,” to use his own words, “pounded with
stones,” and proclaimed a traitor to the Church.[175] His opponents
did not stop to inquire into the truth of their charges too strictly,
and Erasmus bitterly complains of the damaging reports that are being
spread all over Europe concerning his good name and his loyalty to
religion. To him all opposition came from “the monks,” who were, in his
eyes, typical of antiquated ecclesiastical narrowness and bigotry. In a
letter written in 1519, at the height of “the battle of the languages,”
as it was called, he gives several instances of this attitude towards
himself at Louvain when he suggested some alteration in a text of
Holy Scripture. A preacher told the people that he had declared the
Gospel “to be merely a collection of stupid fables,” and at Antwerp, a
Carmelite attacked him in a sermon, at which he happened to be present,
and denounced the appearance of his New Testament as a sign of the
coming of Antichrist. On being asked afterwards for his reasons, he
confessed that he had never even read the book himself. “This,” says
Erasmus sadly, “I generally find to be the case: that none are more
bitter in their outcry than they who do not read what I write.” In this
same letter, Erasmus describes the ferment raised in England against
the study of languages. At Cambridge, Greek was making progress in
peace, “because the university was presided over by John Fisher, Bishop
of Rochester, a theologian of learning and uprightness of life.” At
Oxford, however, fierce public attacks were made in sermons on Greek
studies; “but the king,” continues Erasmus, “as one not unlearned
himself, and most favourable to the cause of letters, happened to
be in the neighbourhood, and hearing of the matter from More and
Pace, ordered that all wishing to study Greek literature should be
encouraged, and so put a stop to the business.”
The contest was not confined to the schools. “A theologian preaching
in the royal palace before the king took this opportunity to inveigh
boldly and uncompromisingly against Greek studies and the new methods
of interpretation. Pace, who was present, glanced at the king to
see how he took it, and Henry smiled at Pace. After the sermon the
theologian was bidden to the king, and to More was assigned the task
of defending Greek learning against him, the king himself desiring to
be present at the discussion. After More had spoken for some time most
happily, he paused to hear the theologian’s reply; but he, on bended
knees, asked pardon for what he had said, asserting that whilst talking
he was moved by some spirit to speak about Greek as he had done.
Thereupon the king said, ‘And that spirit was not that of Christ, but
of folly!’ Then Henry asked him whether he had read Erasmus’s works--he
admitted that he had not. Then said the king, ‘By this you prove
your folly, in condemning what you have not read.’ Finally the king
dismissed him, and ordered that he should never be allowed to preach in
the royal presence again.”
Those who desired to carry on the campaign to extremities, endeavoured,
and even with temporary success, to influence Queen Katherine against
Erasmus and the party for the revival of letters which he represented.
Her confessor, a Dominican bishop, persuaded her that in correcting
St. Jerome, Erasmus had perpetrated a crime which admitted of no
excuse.[176] It was but another step to connect the renaissance of
letters generally with the revolt now associated with the name of
Luther. In England, however, it was not so easy to persuade people
of this, since, among the chief supporters of the movement were to
be numbered the best and wisest of churchmen and laymen whose entire
orthodoxy was not open to suspicion. Abroad, however, the cry once
started, was quickly taken up. A theologian at Louvain, writes Erasmus,
who up to this time had been noted for his sober judgment, before a
large audience, after having spoken of Lutheranism, attacked “the
teaching of languages and polite letters, joining the two together,
and asserting that heresy came from these springs, as if experience
had shown eloquence to be a mark rather of the heretics than of the
orthodox, or that the Latin authors of heresy were not mere children
so far as languages went, or that Luther had been schooled by those
masters and not rather by the scholastics, according to scholastic
methods.”[177]
Erasmus puts the position even more clearly in a letter to Pope Leo
X. on the publication of the revised version of his New Testament in
August 1519. The book is now in people’s hands, he says, and as it has
appeared under the direct auspices of the Holy Father himself, it may
be regarded as his work. Some foolish people, he understands, have
been trying to get the Pope to believe that a knowledge of languages
is detrimental to the true study of theology, whereas, in reality,
the very contrary is obviously the case. Such people will not reason,
they cry out and will not listen. They suggest damning words, such
words for example as “heretics,” “antichrists,” &c., as appropriate
to their opponents. They call out that even the Christian religion
is imperilled, and beg the Pope to come forward and save it. On his
part Erasmus hopes that the Pope will believe that all his work is
for Christ alone, and His Church. “This only reward do I desire, that
I may ever seek the glory of Christ rather than my own. From boyhood
I have ever endeavoured to write nothing that savoured of impiety or
disloyalty. No one has ever yet been made blacker by my writings; no
one less pious, no one stirred up to tumult.”[178] Again, writing to
Cardinal Campeggio, when sending him a copy of the New Testament “which
Pope Leo had approved by his Brief,” Erasmus tells him that, to his
great regret, many at Louvain were doing their best not to allow good
letters to flourish. As for himself, his only real desire was to serve
Christ and increase the glory of His Church; though, he adds, “I am a
man, and as such liable to err.” No one has ever succeeded in pleasing
every one, and he, Erasmus, will not try to do the impossible. Still
he wishes to be judged by what he really has said and written; whereas
all kinds of things, letters, books, &c., are attributed to him, about
which he knows nothing: “even Martin Luther’s work, amongst the rest,”
whilst the truth is, he does not know Luther, and certainly has never
read his book.[179]
At the end of the following year, 1520, Erasmus again writes to
Cardinal Campeggio at great length. After telling him that he had
hoped to have passed the winter in Rome to search in the libraries for
Greek manuscripts, he informs him that in Louvain those who prefer
the old barbarism are now rampant. Some think to please the people by
opposition to learning, and amongst the aiders and abettors of the
Lutheran movement they place Erasmus in the forefront. The Dominicans
and Carmelites, he says, will regard him only as their enemy. Why, he
does not know, for in reality he reverences true religion under “any
coloured coat.” If on occasion he has said something about the vices of
the monks, he does not think it were more right for the religious, as
a body, to turn against him, than it would be for priests as a body,
when their vices were spoken against. He does not in the least wish to
be thought opposed to the religious life, as such. The condemnation
of Luther had been interpreted by many as a condemnation of learning,
and had been turned against Reuchlin and Erasmus. As for himself,
he has never, he declares, even seen Luther, who has certainly
never been famous for good letters or for any knowledge of ancient
tongues, and hence the revival of letters has no connection whatever
with the Lutheran movement. The prefaces of some of Luther’s books,
because written in good Latin, are considered sufficient proof of his
(Erasmus’s) connection with the matter, and it is asserted openly that
he was working cordially with the Reformer; whereas, as a fact, he had
not suggested even so much as a full stop or comma for his writings.
He had, he admitted, written to Luther, and this and another letter to
the Cardinal of Mentz were pointed to as proof positive of his Lutheran
leanings. For these he has been denounced to bishops as a heretic and
delated to the Pope himself, while all the time, in truth, he has never
read two pages of Luther’s writings. Certainly, indeed, he recognised
in Luther considerable power, but he was not by any means alone in
doing so. Men of undoubted faith and uprightness had congratulated
themselves on having fallen in with Luther’s works. For himself, he
adds, “I have always preferred to look for the good rather than to
search for the evil, and I have long thought that the world needed many
changes.” Finally, before passing from the subject, he begs Cardinal
Campeggio to look at the letter in question himself, and see whether it
could justly be said to favour Luther in any way.[180]
To Pope Leo X. Erasmus also wrote, protesting against the cause of
letters generally being made the same as that of Reuchlin and Luther.
With the former movement he was identified heart and soul; with Luther
and his revolt he had, he declared, no part nor sympathy. “I have
not known Luther,” he says, “nor have I ever read his books, except
perhaps ten or a dozen pages in various places. It was really I who
first scented the danger of the business issuing in tumults, which I
have always detested.” Moreover, he declares that he had induced the
Basle printer, Johann Froben, to refuse to print Luther’s works, and
that by means of friends he had tried to induce Luther to think only
of the peace of the Church. Two years previously, he says, Luther had
written to him, and he had replied in a kindly spirit in order to get
him, if possible, to follow his advice. Now, he hears, that this letter
has been delated to the Pope in order to prejudice him in the Pontiff’s
eyes; but he is quite prepared to defend its form and expression. “If
any one,” he says, “can say he has ever heard me, even at the table,
maintain the teaching of Luther, I will not refuse to be called a
Lutheran.” Finally, he expresses the hope that, if the opponents of
letters have been trying to calumniate him, he may rely on the Pope’s
prudence and the knowledge of his own complete innocence. “I, who do
not wish to oppose even my own bishop, am not,” he writes, “so mad as
to act in any way against the supreme Vicar of Christ.”[181]
As time went on, the position of Erasmus did not become more
comfortable. Whilst the Lutherans were hoping that sooner or later
something would happen to compromise the outspoken scholar and force
him to transfer the weight of his learning to their side, the champions
of Catholicity were ill satisfied that he did not boldly strike out
in defence of the Church. To this latter course many of his English
friends had strongly urged him, and both the king, Fisher, and others
had set him an example by publishing works against Luther’s position,
which they invited him to follow. The Pope, too, had on more than one
occasion personally appealed to him to throw off his reserve and come
to the aid of orthodoxy. They could not understand how he was able to
talk of peace and kindness amidst the din of strife, and plead for less
harsh measures and less bitter words against Luther and his adherents,
when the battle was raging, and cities and peoples and even countries
were being seduced by the German Reformer’s plausible plea for freedom
and liberty. Those who believed in Erasmus’s orthodoxy, as did the Pope
and his English friends, considered that no voice was more calculated
to calm the storm and compel the German people to listen to reason than
was his. Whilst the Reforming party, on the other hand, were doing
their best to compromise him in the eyes of their opponents, Erasmus
was most unwilling to be forced into action. “Why,” he writes, “do
people wish to associate me with Luther? What Luther thinks of me,
where it is a question of matters of faith, I care very little. That
he doesn’t think much of me he shows in many letters to his friends.
In his opinion I am ‘blind,’ ‘miserable,’ ‘ignorant of Christ and
Christianity,’ ‘thinking of nothing but letters.’ This is just what I
should expect,” he says, “for Luther has always despised the ancients.”
As for himself, he (Erasmus) has always tried his best to inculcate
true piety along with learning.[182]
To Œcolampadius, in February 1525, he wrote a letter of protest
against the way some of Luther’s followers were doing all they could
to associate his name with their movement. He does not wish, he says,
to give his own opinion on the questions at issue; but he can tell his
correspondent what the King of England, Bishop Fisher, and Cardinal
Wolsey think on these grave matters. He objects to Œcolampadius putting
_Magnus Erasmus noster_--“our great Erasmus”--in a preface he wrote,
without any justification. “This naturally makes people suppose,” he
adds, “that I am really on your side in these controversies,” and he
begs that he will strike out the expression.[183]
This was no new position that Erasmus had taken up in view of the
ever-increasing difficulties of the situation. Six years before (in
1519) he had written fully on the subject to the Cardinal Archbishop
of Mentz. It was this letter which had been much misunderstood, and
even denounced to the Pope as the work of a disloyal son of the Church.
He, on the other hand, declared that he was not committed in any way
to the cause of Reuchlin or Luther. “Luther is perfectly unknown to
me, and his books I have not read, except here and there. If he had
written well it would not have been to my credit; if then the opposite,
no blame should attach to me. I regretted his public action, and when
the first tract, I forget which, was talked about, I did all I could
to prevent its being issued, especially as I feared that tumults would
come out of all this. Luther had written me what appeared to my mind to
be a very Christian letter, and, in replying, I, by the way, warned him
not to write anything seditious, nor to abuse the Roman Pontiff, &c.,
but to preach the Gospel truly and humbly.” He adds that he was kind
in his reply purposely, as he did not wish to be Luther’s judge. And,
as he thought that there was much good in the man, he would willingly
do all he could to keep him in the right way. People are too fond, he
says, of crying out “heretic,” &c., and “the cry generally comes from
those who have not read the works they exclaim against.”[184]
“I greatly fear,” he writes shortly after, “for this miserable Luther;
so angry are his opponents on all sides, and so irritated against him
are princes, and, above all, Pope Leo. Would that he had taken my
advice and abstained from these hateful and seditious publications.
There would have been more fruit and less rancour.”[185]
Testimonies might be multiplied almost indefinitely from Erasmus’s
writings to show that with Lutheranism as such he had no connection nor
sympathy. Yet his best friends seem to have doubted him, and some, in
England, suspected that Erasmus’s hand and spirit were to be detected
in the reply that Luther made to King Henry’s book against him. Bishop
Tunstall confesses that he is relieved to hear by the letter Erasmus
had addressed to the king and the legate that he had had nothing to
do with this violent composition, and, moreover, that he was opposed
to Lutheran principles. In his letter on this subject, the bishop
laments the rapid spread of these dangerous opinions which threaten
disturbances everywhere. When the sacred ceremonies of the Church and
all pious customs are attacked as they are, he says, civil tumults are
sure to follow. After Luther’s book _De abroganda Missa_, the Reformer
will quickly go further, and so Tunstall begs and beseeches Erasmus, by
“Christ’s Passion and glory” and “by the reward” he expects; “yea, and
the Church itself prays and desires you,” he adds, “to engage in combat
with this hydra.”[186]
At length, urged by so many of his best friends, Erasmus took up his
pen against Luther and produced his book _De libero Arbitrio_, to
which Luther, a past master in invective, replied in his contemptuous
_De servo Arbitrio_, Erasmus rejoining in the _Hyperaspistes_. Sir
Thomas More wrote that this last book delighted him, and urged Erasmus
to further attacks. “I cannot say how foolish and inflated I think
Luther’s letter to you,” he writes. “He knows well how the wretched
glosses into which he has darkened Scripture turn to ice at your touch.
They were, it is true, cold enough already.”[187]
Erasmus’s volume on _Free-will_ drew down on him, as might be expected,
the anger of the advanced Lutherans. Ulrich von Hutten, formerly
a brilliant follower of Erasmus and Reuchlin in their attempts to
secure a revival of letters, was now the leader of the most reckless
and forward of the young German Lutherans, who assisted the Reformer
by their violence and their readiness to promote any and all of his
doctrinal changes by stirring up civil dissensions. Von Hutten
endeavoured to throw discredit upon Erasmus by a brilliant and
sarcastic attack upon it. In 1523, Erasmus published what he called the
_Spongia_, or reply to the assertions of von Hutten on his honour and
character. The tract is really an apology or explanation of his own
position as regards the Lutherans, and an assertion of his complete
loyalty to the Church. The book was in Froben’s hands for press in
June 1523, but before it could appear in September von Hutten had
died. Erasmus, however, determined to publish the work on account of
the gravity of the issues. It is necessary, if we would understand
Erasmus’s position fully, to refer to this work at some considerable
length. After complaining most bitterly that many people had tried to
defame him to the Pope and to his English friends, and to make him
a Lutheran whether he would or no; and after defending his attitude
towards Reuchlin as consistent throughout, he meets directly von
Hutten’s assertion that he had condemned the whole Dominican body. “I
have never,” he says, “been ill disposed to that Order. I have never
been so foolish as to wish ill to any Order. If it were necessary
to hate all Dominicans because, in the Order, there were some bad
members, on the same ground it would be needful to detest all Orders,
since in every one there are many black sheep.” On the same principle
Christianity itself would be worthy of hatred.[188] The fact really
is that the Dominicans have many members who are friendly to Erasmus,
and who are favourable to learning in general, and Scripture study and
criticism in particular.
In the same way, von Hutten had mistaken Erasmus’s whole attitude
towards the Roman Church. He had charged him with being inconsistent,
in now praising, now blaming the authorities. Erasmus characterises
this as the height of impudence. “Who,” he asks, “has ever approved of
the vices of the Roman authorities? But, on the other hand, who has
ever condemned the Roman Church?”
Continuing, he declares that he has never been the occasion of discord
or tumult in any way, and appeals with confidence to his numerous
letters and works as sufficient evidence of his love of peace. “I
love liberty,” he writes; “I neither can aid, nor desire to aid,
any faction.” Already many confess that they were wrong in taking a
part; and he sees many, who had thrown in their lot with Luther, now
drawing back, and regretting that they had ever given any countenance
to him.[189] His (Erasmus’s) sole object has been to promote good
letters, and to restore Theology to its simple and true basis, the
Holy Scripture. This he will endeavour to do as long as he has life.
“Luther,” he says, “I hold to be a man liable to err, and one who has
erred. Luther, with the rest of his followers will pass away; Christ
alone remains for ever.”
In more than one place of this _Spongia_, Erasmus complains bitterly
that what he had said in joke, and as mere pleasantry at the table, had
been taken seriously. “What is said over a glass of wine,” he writes,
“ought not to be remembered and written down as a serious statement of
belief. Often at a feast, for example, we have transferred the worldly
sovereignty to Pope Julius, and made Maximilian, the emperor, into
the supreme Pontiff. Thus, too, we have married monasteries of monks
to convents of nuns; we have sent armies of them against the Turks,
and colonised new islands with them. In a word, we turn the universe
topsy-turvy. But, such whims are never meant to be taken seriously, as
our own true convictions.”
Von Hutten had complained that Erasmus had spoken harshly about Luther,
and hinted that he was really actuated by a spirit of envy, on seeing
Luther’s books more read than his own. Erasmus denies that he has ever
called Luther by any harsh names, and particularly that he has ever
called him “heretic.” He admits, however, that he had frequently spoken
of the movement as a “tragedy,” and he points to the public discords
and tumults then distracting Germany as the best justification of this
verdict.[190]
Von Hutten having said that children were being taught by their nurses
to lisp the name Luther, Erasmus declares that he cannot imagine whose
children these can be; for, he says, “I daily see how many influential,
learned, grave, and good men have come to curse his very name.”
The most interesting portion, however, of the _Spongia_ is that in
which, at considerable length, Erasmus explains his real attitude to
Rome and the Pope. “Not even about the Roman See,” he says, “will I
admit that I have ever spoken inconsistently. I have never approved
of its tyranny, rapacity, and other vices about which of old common
complaints were heard from good men. Neither do I sweepingly condemn
‘Indulgences,’ though I have always disliked any barefaced traffic in
them. What I think about ceremonies, many places in my works plainly
show.… What it may mean ‘to reduce the Pope to order’ I do not rightly
understand. First, I think it must be allowed that Rome is a Church,
for no number of evils can make it cease to be a Church, otherwise we
should have no Churches whatever. Moreover, I hold it to be an orthodox
Church; and this Church, it must be admitted, has a Bishop. Let him be
allowed also to be Metropolitan, seeing there are very many archbishops
in countries where there has been no apostle, and Rome, without
controversy, had certainly SS. Peter and Paul, the two chief apostles.
Then how is it absurd that among Metropolitans the chief place be
granted to the Roman Pontiff?”[191]
As to the rest, Erasmus had never, he declares, defended the excessive
powers which for many years the popes have usurped, and, like all men,
he wishes for a thorough apostolic man for Pope. For his part, if the
Pope were not above all things else an apostle, he would have him
deposed as well as any other bishop, who did not fulfil the office of
his state. For many years, no doubt, the chief evils of the world have
come from Rome, but now, as he believes, the world has a Pope who will
try at all costs to purify the See and Curia of Rome. This, however,
Erasmus fancies is not quite what von Hutten desires. He would declare
war against the Pope and his adherents, even were the Pope a good
Pope, and his followers good Christians. War is what von Hutten wants,
and he cares not whether it brings destruction to cities and peoples
and countries.
Erasmus admits that he knows many people who are ready to go some
way in the Lutheran direction; but who would strongly object to the
overthrow of papal authority. Many would rather feel that they have
a father than a tyrant: who would like to see the tables of the
money-changers in the temple overthrown, and the barefaced granting of
indulgences and trafficking in dispensations and papal bulls repressed:
who would not object to have ceremonies simplified, and solid piety
inculcated: who would like to insist on the sacred Scriptures as the
true and only basis of authoritative teaching, and would not give to
scholastic conclusions and the mere opinions of schools the force of
an infallible oracle. With those who think thus, says Erasmus, “if (as
is the case) there is no compact on my part, certainly my old friendly
feeling for them remains cemented by the bond of learning, even if I do
not agree with them in all these things.”
But, he continues, it is not among these well-wishers of reform that
von Hutten and Luther will find their support. This is to be found
among the “unlettered people without any judgment; among those who are
impure in their own lives, and detractors of men; amongst those who
are headstrong and ungovernable. These are they who are so favourable
to Luther’s cause that they neither know nor care to examine what
Luther teaches. They only have the Gospel on their lips; they neglect
prayer and the Sacraments; they eat what they like; and they live to
curse the Roman Pontiff. These are the Lutherans.” From such material
spring forth tumults that cannot be put down. “It is generally in
their cups,” adds Erasmus, “that the Evangelical league is recruited.”
They are too stupid to see whither they are drifting, and “with such
a type of mankind I have no wish to have anything to do.” Some make
the Gospel but the pretext for theft and rapine; and “there are some
who, having squandered or lost all their own property, pretend to be
Lutherans in order to be able to help themselves to the wealth of
others.” Von Hutten wants me, says Erasmus, to come to them. “To whom?
To those who are good and actuated by the true Gospel teaching? I would
willingly fly to them if any one will point them out. If he knew of
any Lutherans, who in place of wine, prostitutes, and dice, have at
any time delighted in holy reading and conversation; of any who never
cheat or neglect to pay their debts, but are ready to give to the
needy; of any who look on injuries done to them as favours, who bless
those who curse them--if he can show me such people, he may count on me
as an associate. Lutherans, I see; but followers of the Gospel, I can
discover few or none.”
Von Hutten had, in his attack, with much bitterness condemned Erasmus
for not renouncing connection with those who had written strongly
against Luther. Erasmus refused to entertain the notion. “There is,” he
says, “the reverend Father John, Bishop of Rochester. He has written
a big volume against Luther. For a long period that man has been my
very special friend and most constant patron. Does von Hutten seriously
want me to break with him, because he has sharpened his pen in writing
against Luther? Long before Luther was thought of,” he says, “I enjoyed
the friendship of many learned men. Of these, some in later years took
Luther’s side, but on that account I have not renounced outwardly my
friendship for them. Some of these have changed their views and now do
not think much of Luther, still I do not cease to regard them as my
friends.”
Towards the close of his reply, Erasmus returns to the question of the
Pope. Von Hutten had charged him with inconsistency in his views, and
Erasmus replies, “He who most desires to see the apostolic character
manifested in the Pope is most in his favour.” It may be that one can
hate the individual and approve of the office. Whoever is favourable
to, and defends, bad Popes does not honour the office. He (Erasmus) has
been found fault with for saying that the authority of the Pope has
been followed by the Christian world for very many ages. What he wrote
is true, and as long as the work of Christ is done may it be followed
for ever. Luther wants people to take his _ipse dixit_ and authority,
but he (Erasmus) would prefer to take that of the Pope. “Even if the
supremacy of the Pope was not established by Christ, still it would be
expedient that there should be one ruler possessing full authority over
others, but which authority no doubt should be free from all idea of
tyranny.… Because I have criticised certain points in the See of Rome,
I have not for that reason ever departed from it. Who would not uphold
the dignity of one who, by manifesting the virtues of the Gospel,
represents Christ to us?” The paradoxes of Luther are not worth dying
for. “There is no question of articles of faith, but of such matters as
‘Whether the supremacy of the Roman Pontiff was established by Christ:’
‘whether cardinals are necessary to the Christian Church:’ ‘whether
confession is _de jure divino_:’ ‘whether bishops can make their laws
binding under pain of mortal sin:’ ‘whether free will is necessary for
salvation:’ ‘whether faith alone assures salvation,’ &c. If Christ gave
him grace,” Erasmus hopes that “he would be a martyr for His truth, but
he has no desire whatever to be one for Luther.”
This last point was immediately taken up by the Lutherans. Von Hutten,
as it has already been said, had died before the publication of the
_Spongia_, and the reply to Erasmus was undertaken by Otto Brunfels.
He rejected Erasmus’s suggestion that nearly all that the Lutherans
were fighting for were matters of opinion. They were matters of faith,
he says, and no uncertainty could be admitted on this point. In order
to make the matter clear, he enumerates a great number of tenets of
Lutheranism which they hold to as matters of revealed certainty.
For instance: that Christ is the only head of the Church; that the
Church has no corporate existence; that the mass is no sacrifice; that
justification comes by faith alone; that our works are sins and cannot
justify; that good men cannot sin; that there are only two Sacraments;
that the Pope’s traditions are heretical and against Scripture; that
the religious state is from the devil; and several score more of
similar points more or less important.
That Erasmus’s views upon the necessity of the Papacy expressed in the
_Spongia_ were not inconsistent with his previous position there is
ample evidence in his letters, to which he himself appeals. Replying,
for example, to one who had written to him deploring the religious
differences in Bohemia, Erasmus declares that, in his opinion, it
is needful for unity that there should be one head. If the prince
is tyrannical, he should be reduced to order by the teaching and
authority of the Roman Pontiff. If the bishop play the tyrant, there
is still the authority of the Roman Pontiff, who is the dispenser of
the authority and the Vicar of Christ. He may not please all, but who
that really rules can expect to do that? “In my opinion,” he adds,
“those who reject the Pope are more in error than they who demand the
Eucharist under two kinds.” Personally, he would have allowed this,
although he thinks that, as most Christians have now the other custom,
those who demand it as a necessity are unreasonable and to be greatly
blamed. Above all others, he reprobates the position of those who
refuse to obey, speak of the Pope as Antichrist, and the Roman Church
as a “harlot” because there have been bad Popes. There have been bad
cardinals and bishops, bad priests and princes, and on this ground
we ought not to obey bishop or pastor or king or ruler.[192] In the
same letter he rebukes those who desire to sweep away vestments and
ceremonies on the plea that they may not have been used in apostolic
times.
Later on, in another letter, he complained that people call him a
favourer of Luther. This is quite untrue. “I would prefer,” he says,
“to have Luther corrected rather than destroyed; then I should prefer
that it should be done without any great social tumults. Christ I
acknowledge; Luther I know not. I acknowledge the Roman Church, which,
in my opinion, is Catholic. I praise those who are on the side of the
Roman Pontiff, who is supported by every good man.”[193]
Again, the following year, writing on the subject of the invocation of
Papal authority against Luther, he says: “I do not question the origin
of that authority, which is most certainly just, as in ancient times
from among many priests equal in office one was chosen as the bishop;
so now from the bishops it is necessary to make choice of one Pontiff,
not merely to prevent discords, but to temper the tyrannical exercise
of authority on the part of the other bishops and secular princes.”[194]
The publication of Erasmus’s book against Luther and of his reply
to von Hutten made little change, however, in the adverse feeling
manifested against him by those who were most busily engaged in
combating the spread of Lutheran opinions. As he wrote to King Henry
VIII., the noisy tumults and discords made him long for the end of
life, when he might hope at least to find peace.[195] Luckily for him,
he still retained the confidence of the Pope and some of the best
churchmen in Europe. Had he not done so, the very violence of the
attack against his good name might have driven him out of the Church in
spite of himself. Kind words, he more than once said, would have done
more for the cause of peace in the Church than all the biting sarcasm
and unmeasured invective that was launched against Luther, and those
who, like Erasmus, either were, or were supposed to be, associated with
his cause. Luther was not delicate about the choice of his language
when he had an enemy to pelt, but some of the preachers and pamphlet
writers on the orthodox side were his match in this respect. In this
way Erasmus puts the responsibility for “the tragedy” of Lutheranism
upon the theologians, and in part especially upon the Dominicans and
Carmelites. “Ass,” “pig,” “sow,” “heretic,” “antichrist,” and “pest
of the world,” are terms named by Erasmus as samples of the epithets
launched from the pulpit, or more deliberately set up in type, as
arguments against Luther and himself.[196]
In writing to one of the cardinals after the publication of his
_Spongia_, there is a touch of sadness in his complaints, that having
been forced to do battle with the “Lutherans as against a hydra of
many heads,” Catholics should still try and make the world believe
that he was really a Lutheran at heart. “I have never,” he declares,
“doubted about the sovereignty of the Pope, but whether this supremacy
was recognised in the time of St. Jerome, I have my doubts, on account
of certain passages I have noted in my edition of St. Jerome. In the
same place, however, I have marked what would appear to make for the
contrary opinion; and in numerous other places I call Peter ‘Prince
of the apostolic order,’ and the Roman Pontiff, Christ’s Vicar and
the Head of His Church, giving him the highest power according to
Christ.”[197]
Probably a more correct view of Erasmus’s real mind can hardly be
obtained than in part of a letter already quoted (Ep. 501) addressed
to Bishop Marlianus of Tuy in Galicia, on March 25, 1520. “I would
have the Church,” he writes, “purified, lest the good in it suffer by
conjunction with the evil. In avoiding the Scylla of Luther, however,
I would have care taken to avoid Charybdis. If this be sin, then I own
my guilt. I have sought to save the dignity of the Roman Pontiff, the
honour of Catholic theology, and to look to the welfare of Christendom.
I have, as yet, read no whole work of Luther, however short, and I
have never even in jest defended his paradoxes. Be assured that if any
movement is set on foot which is injurious to the Christian religion
and dangerous to the public peace or the supremacy of the Holy See,
it does not proceed from Erasmus.… In all I have written, I have not
deviated one hair’s-breadth from the teaching of the Church. But every
wise man knows that practices and teachings have been introduced into
the Church partly by custom, partly by the canonists, partly by means
of scholastic definitions, partly by the tricks and arts of secular
sovereigns, which have no sound sanction. Many great people have begged
me to support Luther, but I have ever replied that I would be ready to
take his part when he was on the Catholic side. They have asked me to
draw up a formula of faith; I have said that I know of none save the
creed of the Catholic Church, and every one who consults me I urge to
submit to the authority of the Pope.”[198]
In many ways Erasmus regarded the rise of Lutheranism as the greatest
misfortune. Not only did it tend to make good men suspicious of the
general revival of letters, with which without reason they associated
it, but the necessity of defending the Catholic position against the
assaults of the new sectaries naturally obscured the need of reform
within the Church itself, for which far-seeing and good men had long
been looking. To Bishop Tunstall he expressed his fears lest in
pulling up the tares, some, and perchance much, of the precious wheat
might perish. Whilst, undoubtedly, there was in Luther’s work a great
deal that he cordially detested, there was also much that would never
have been condemned, had the points been calmly considered by learned
men, apart from the ferment of revolt. “This, however, I promise you,”
he adds, “that for my part I will never forsake the Church.”[199]
This same sentiment he repeats the following year, 1526: “From the
judgment of the Church I am not able to dissent, nor have I ever
dissented.”[200] Had this tempest not risen up, he said, in another
letter from Basle, he had hoped to have lived long enough to have seen
a general revival of letters and theology returning more and more to
the foundation of all true divinity, Holy Scripture. For his part, he
cordially disliked controversy, and especially the discussion of such
questions as “whether the Council was above the Pope,” and such like.
He held that he was himself in all things a sound Catholic, and at
peace with the Pope and his bishop, whilst no name was more hated by
the Lutherans than that of Erasmus.[201]
So much with regard to the attitude of mind manifested by Erasmus
towards the authority of the teaching Church, which is the main point
of interest in the present inquiry. His disposition will probably be
construed by some into a critical opposition to much that was taught
and practised; but it seems certain that Erasmus did not so regard
his own position. He was a reformer in the best sense, as so many
far-seeing and spiritual-minded churchmen of those days were. He
desired to better and beautify and perfect the system he found in
vogue, and he had the courage of his convictions to point out what
he thought stood in need of change and improvement, but he was no
iconoclast; he had no desire to pull down or root up or destroy under
the plea of improvement. That he remained to the last the friend of
Popes and bishops and other orthodox churchmen, is the best evidence,
over and above his own words, that his real sentiments were not
misunderstood by men who had the interests of the Church at heart, and
who looked upon him as true and loyal, if perhaps a somewhat eccentric
and caustic son of Holy Church. Even in his last sickness he received
from the Pope proof of his esteem, for he was given a benefice of
considerable value, and it was hinted to him that another honour, as
was commonly supposed at the time nothing less than the sacred purple,
was in store for him.
Most people are of course chiefly interested in the determination of
Erasmus’s general attitude to the great religious movement of the age.
In this place, however, one or two minor points in his literary history
can hardly be passed over in silence. His attitude to the monks and the
religious Orders generally, was one of acknowledged hostility, although
there are passages in his writings, some of which have been already
quoted, which seem to show that this hostility was neither so sweeping
nor so deeply rooted as is generally thought. Still, it may be admitted
that he has few good words for the religious Orders, and he certainly
brings many and even grave accusations against their good name. There
is little doubt, however, that much he had to say on the subject was,
as he himself tells us, said to emphasise abuses that existed, and was
not intended to be taken as any wholesale sweeping condemnation of
the system of regular life. Very frequently the _Enconium Moriæ_ has
been named as the work in which Erasmus hits the monks the hardest.
Those who so regard it can hardly have read it with attention, and
most certainly they fail to appreciate its spirit. It was composed,
as we have seen, at Sir Thomas More’s suggestion, and in his house at
Chelsea in 1512, on Erasmus’s return from Italy. It is a satire on the
ecclesiastical manners and customs in which all abuses in turn come
in for their share of sarcastic condemnation; superstitions of people
as to particular days and images, superstitions about “magic prayers
and charmlike rosaries,” as to saints set to this or that office,
to cure the toothache, to discover stolen goods, &c., in the first
place came under the lash of Erasmus’s sarcasm. Then come, in turn,
doctors of divinity and theologians, “a nest of men so crabbed and
morose” that he has half a mind, he says, to leave them severely alone,
“lest perchance they should all at once fall upon me with six hundred
conclusions, driving me to recant.” They are high and mighty and look
down on other men, thinking of common individuals as “silly men like
worms creeping on the ground,” and startling ordinary folk by the
variety of their unpractical discussions and questions. “Nowadays,” he
says, “not baptism, nor the Gospel, nor Paul, nor Peter, nor Jerome,
nor Augustine, nor yet Thomas Aquinas, are able to make men Christians,
unless those Father Bachelors in divinity are pleased to subscribe to
the same. They require us to address them as _Magister noster_ in the
biggest of letters.”
Following upon this treatment of the scholastic theologians come the
few pages devoted to monks, those “whose trade and observance were
surely most miserable and abject, unless I (Folly) did many ways
assist them.” They are so ignorant (at least so says Folly), that
they can hardly read their own names. Erasmus makes merry over the
office they chant, and the begging practised by the friars, and jeers
amusingly at their style of dressing, at their mode of cutting their
hair, and at their sleeping and working by _rule_. “Yea,” he says,
“some of them being of a straightened rule are such sore punishers of
their flesh, as outwardly they wear nought but sackcloth and inwardly
no better than fine holland.” In a word, he laughs at the general
observance of regular life, and in one place only passes a hint that
some of their lives are not so saintly as they pretend. As a whole,
however, the sarcasm is not so bitter as that addressed to other
ecclesiastics, and even to the Pope himself. In view of Sir Thomas
More’s subsequent explanation about the spirit of the _Enconium Moriæ_,
there can be no doubt that it was intended mainly as a playful, if
somewhat ill-judged and severe, lampoon on some patent abuses, and
in no sense an attack upon the ecclesiastical system of the Catholic
Church.[202]
One other misunderstanding about Erasmus’s position in regard to the
revival of letters may be here noticed. The great scholar has been
regarded as the incarnation of the spirit of practical paganism, which,
unfortunately, was quickly the outcome of the movement in Italy, and
which at this time gave so much colour and point to the denunciations
of those of the opposite school. No view can be more unjust to Erasmus.
Though he longed anxiously for the clergy to awake to a sense of the
importance of studies in general, of classical and scriptural studies
in particular, there was no one who saw more clearly the danger and
absurdity of carrying the classical revivalist spirit to extremes. In
fact, in his _Ciceroniana_, he expressly ridicules what he has seen in
Rome of the classical spirit run mad. Those afflicted by it, he says,
try to think that old Rome has returned. They speak of the “Senate,”
the “conscript fathers,” the “plebs,” the “chief auger,” and the
“college of soothsayers,” “Pontifices Maximi,” “Vestals,” “triumphs,”
&c. Nothing can be more unlike the true Ciceronian spirit. Am I, he
asks, as a Christian speaking to Christians about the Christian
religion to try and suppose I am living in the age of Cicero, and speak
as if I were addressing a meeting of the conscript fathers on the
Capitol? Am I to pick my words, choose my figures and illustrations
from Cicero’s speeches to the Senate? How can Cicero’s eloquence help
me to speak to a mixed audience of virgins, wives, and widows in praise
of fasting, penance, prayer, almsgiving, the sanctity of marriage, the
contempt of the fleeting pleasures of this world, or of the study of
Holy Scripture. No, a Christian orator dressed in Cicero’s clothes is
ridiculous.[203]
As an illustration of the height of absurdity to which the madness of
the classical craze had brought people in Rome in his day, Erasmus
relates the story of a sermon he himself once heard in the Eternal
City during the pontificate of Pope Julius II. “I had been invited,”
he says, “a few days before, by some learned men to be present at this
sermon (to be preached on Good Friday). ‘Take care not to miss it,’
they said, ‘for you will at last be enabled to appreciate the tone
of the Roman language, spoken by a Roman mouth.’ Hence, with great
curiosity, I went to the church, procuring a place near the orator so
as not to miss even one word. Julius II. was himself present, a very
unusual thing, probably on account of his health. And there were also
there many cardinals and bishops, and in the crowd most of the men of
letters who were then in Rome.
“The exordium and peroration were nearly as long as the rest of the
discourse, and they all rang the changes of praise of Julius II.
He called him the almighty Jove, and pictured him as brandishing
the trident, casting his thunderbolts with his right hand, and
accomplishing all he willed by the mere nod of his head. All that had
taken place of late years in Gaul, Germany, Spain, &c., were but the
efforts of his simple will. Then came a hundred times repeated, such
words as ‘Rome,’ ‘Romans,’ ‘Roman mouth,’ ‘Roman eloquence,’ &c.” But
what, asks Erasmus, were all these to Julius, bishop of the Christian
religion, Christ’s vicegerent, successor of Peter and Paul? What are
these to cardinals and bishops who are in the places of the other
apostles?
“The orator’s design,” he continues, “was to represent to us Jesus
Christ, at first in the agony of His Passion, and then in the glory
of His triumph. To do this, he recalled the memory of Curtius and
Decius, who had given themselves to the gods for the salvation of the
Republic. He reminded us of Cecrops, of Menelaus, of Iphigenia, and of
other noble victims who had valued their lives less than the honour
and welfare of their country. Public gratitude (he continued, in tears
and in most lugubrious tones) had always surrounded these noble and
generous characters with its homage, sometimes raising gilded statues
to their memory in the forum; sometimes decreeing them even divine
honours, whilst Jesus Christ, for all His benefits, had received no
other reward but death. The orator then went on to compare our Saviour,
who had deserved so well of His country, to Phocion and to Socrates,
who were compelled to drink hemlock though accused of no crime; to
Epaminondas, driven to defend himself against envy roused by his noble
deeds; to Scipio and to Aristides, whom the Athenians were tired of
hearing called the ‘Just one,’ &c.
“I ask, can anything be imagined colder and more inept? Yet, over all
his efforts, the preacher sweated blood and water to rival Cicero.
In brief, my Roman preacher spoke Roman so well that I heard nothing
about the death of Christ.[204] If Cicero had lived in our days,” asks
Erasmus, “would he not think the name of God the Father as elegant as
Jupiter the almighty? Would he think it less elegant to speak of Jesus
Christ than of Romulus, or of Scipio Africanus, of Quintus Curtius, or
of Marcus Decius? Would he think the name of the Catholic Church less
illustrious than that of ‘Conscript Fathers,’ ‘Quirites,’ or ‘Senate
and people of Rome’? He would speak to us of faith in Christ, of the
Holy Ghost, or the Holy Trinity?” &c.[205]
At considerable length Erasmus pours out the vials of his scorn upon
those who act so foolishly under the influence of the false classical
spirit. He points out the danger to be avoided. People, he says, go
into raptures over pagan antiquities, and laugh at others who are
enthusiastic about Christian archæology. “We kiss, venerate, almost
adore a piece of antiquity,” he says, “and mock at relics of the
Apostles. If any one finds something from the twelve tables, who does
not consider it worthy of the most holy place? And the laws written by
the finger of God, who venerates, who kisses them? How delighted we
are with a medal stamped with the head of Hercules, or of Mercury, or
of Fortune, or of Victory, or of Alexander the Great, or one of the
Cæsars,[206] and we deride those who treasure the wood of the cross or
images of the Virgin and saints as superstitious.”[207] If in dealing
with his subject Erasmus may appear to exaggerate the evil he condemns,
this much is clear, that his advocacy of letters and learning, however
strenuous and enthusiastic, was tempered by a sense of the paramount
importance of the Christian spirit in the pursuit of science.
CHAPTER VII
THE LUTHERAN INVASION
It is not uncommonly asserted that the religious changes in England,
although for convenience’ sake dated from the rejection of Papal
supremacy, were in reality the outcome of long-continued and
ever-increasing dissatisfaction with the then existing ecclesiastical
system. The Pope’s refusal to grant Henry his wished-for divorce
from Katherine, we are told, was a mere incident, which at most,
precipitated by a short while what had long been inevitable.[208]
Those who take this view are bound to believe that the Church in
England in the early sixteenth century was honeycombed by disbelief
in the traditional teachings, and that men were only too ready to
welcome emancipation. What then is the evidence for this picture of the
religious state of men’s minds in England on the eve of the Reformation?
It is, indeed, not improbable that up and down the country there were,
at this period, some dissatisfied spirits; some who would eagerly
seize any opportunity to free themselves from the restraints which no
longer appealed to their consciences, and from teachings they had come
to consider as mere ecclesiastical formalism. A Venetian traveller of
intelligence and observation, who visited the country at the beginning
of the century, whilst struck with the Catholic practices and with the
general manifestations of English piety he witnessed, understood that
there were “many who have various opinions concerning religion.”[209]
But so far as there is evidence at all, it points to the fact, that of
religious unrest, in any real sense, there could have been very little
in the country generally. It is, of course, impossible to suppose that
any measurable proportion of the people could have openly rejected the
teaching of the Church or have been even crypto-Lollards, without there
being satisfactory evidence of the fact forthcoming at the present day.
The similarity of the doctrines held by the English Reformers of
the sixteenth century with many of those taught by the followers of
Wycliffe has, indeed, led some writers to assume a direct connection
between them which certainly did not exist in fact. So far as England
at least is concerned, there is no justification for assuming for the
Reformation a line of descent from any form of English Lollardism. It
is impossible to study the century which preceded the overthrow of
the old religious system in England without coming to the conclusion
that as a body the Lollards had been long extinct, and that as
individuals, scattered over the length and breadth of the land,
without any practical principle of cohesion, the few who clung to the
tenets of Wycliffe were powerless to effect any change of opinion in
the overwhelming mass of the population at large. Lollardry, to the
Englishman of the day, was “heresy,” and any attempt to teach it was
firmly repressed by the ecclesiastical authority, supported by the
strong arm of the State; but it was also an offence against the common
feeling of the people, and there can be no manner of doubt that its
repression was popular. The genius of Milton enabled him to see the
fact that “Wycliffe’s preaching was soon damped and stifled by the Pope
and prelates for six or seven kings’ reigns,” and Mr. James Gairdner,
whose studies in this period of our national history enable him to
speak with authority, comes to the same conclusion. “Notwithstanding
the darkness that surrounds all subjects connected with the history of
the fifteenth century,” he writes, “we may venture pretty safely to
affirm that Lollardry was _not_ the beginning of modern Protestantism.
Plausible as it seems to regard Wycliffe as ‘the morning star of the
Reformation,’ the figure conveys an impression which is altogether
erroneous. Wycliffe’s real influence did not long survive his own day,
and so far from Lollardry having taken any deep root among the English
people, the traces of it had wholly disappeared long before the great
revolution of which it is thought to be the forerunner. At all events,
in the rich historical material for the beginning of Henry VIII.’s
reign, supplied by the correspondence of the time, we look in vain for
a single indication that any such thing as a Lollard sect existed. The
movement had died a natural death; from the time of Oldcastle it sank
into insignificance. Though still for a while considerable in point of
numbers, it no longer counted among its adherents any men of note; and
when another generation had passed away the serious action of civil war
left no place for the crotchets of fanaticism.”[210]
On the only evidence available, the student of the reign of Henry VII.
and of that of Henry VIII. up to the breach with Rome is bound to come
to the same conclusion as to the state of the English Church. If we
except manifestations of impatience with the Pope and Curia, which
could be paralleled in any age and country, and which were rather on
the secular side than on the religious, there is nothing that would
make us think that England was not fully loyal in mind and heart to
the established ecclesiastical system. In fact, as Mr. Brewer says,
everything proves that “the general body of the people had not as yet
learned to question the established doctrines of the Church. For the
most part, they paid their Peter pence and heard mass, and did as their
fathers had done before them.”[211]
It may be taken, therefore, for granted that the seeds of religious
discord were not the product of the country itself, nor, so far as we
have evidence on the subject at all, does it appear that the soil of
the country was in any way specially adapted for its fructification.
The work, both of raising the seed and of scattering it over the soil
of England, must be attributed, if the plain facts of history are to be
believed, to Germans and the handful of English followers of the German
Reformers. If we would rightly understand the religious situation in
England at the commencement of the Reformation, it is of importance to
inquire into the methods of attack adopted in the Lutheran invasion,
and to note the chief doctrinal points which were first assailed.
Very shortly after the religious revolt had established itself in
Germany, the first indications of a serious attempt to undermine the
traditional faith of the English Church became manifest in England.
Roger Edgworth, a preacher during the reigns of Henry and Queen Mary,
says that his “long labours have been cast in most troublesome times
and most encumbered with errors and heresies, change of minds and
schisms that ever was in the realm.… Whilst I was a young student in
divinity,” he continues, “Luther’s heresies rose and were scattered
here in this realm, which, in less space than a man would think, had
so sore infected the Christian folk, first the youth and then the
elders, where the children could set their fathers to school, that the
king’s Majesty and all Christian clerks in the realm had much ado to
extinguish them. This they could not so perfectly quench, but that ever
since, when they might have any maintenance by man or woman of great
power, they burst forth afresh, even like fire hid under chaff.”[212]
Sir Thomas More, when Chancellor in 1532, attributed the rapid spread
of what to him and most people of his day in England was heresy, to
the flood of literature which was poured forth over the country by
the help of printing. “We have had,” he writes, “some years of late,
plenteous of evil books. For they have grown up so fast and sprung up
so thick, full of pestilent errors and pernicious heresies, that they
have infected and killed, I fear me, more simple souls than the famine
of the dear years have destroyed bodies.”[213]
We are not left in ignorance as to the books here referred to, as some
few years previously the bishops of England had issued a list of the
prohibited volumes. Thus, in October 1526, Bishop Tunstall ordered that
in London people should be warned not to read the works in question,
but that all who possessed them should deliver them over to the
bishop’s officials in order that they might be destroyed as pernicious
literature. The list included several works of Luther, three or four of
Tyndale, a couple of Zwingle, and several isolated works, such as the
_Supplication of Beggars_, and the _Dyalogue between the Father and the
Son_.[214]
In 1530 the king by proclamation forbade the reading or possession of
some eighty-five works of Wycliffe, Luther, Œcolampadius, Zwingle,
Pomeranus, Bucer, Wesselius, and indeed the German divines generally,
under the heading of “books of the Lutheran sect or faction conveyed
into the city of London.” Besides these Latin treatises, the
prohibition included many English tracts, such as _A book of the old
God and the new_, the _Burying of the Mass_, Frith’s _Disputation
concerning Purgatory_, and several prayer-books intended to propagate
the new doctrines, such as _Godly prayers_; _Matins and Evensong with
the seven Psalms and other heavenly psalms with commendations_; the
_Hortulus Animæ_ in English,[215] and the _Primer_ in English.
In his proclamation Henry VIII. speaks of the determination of the
English nation in times past to be true to the Catholic faith and to
defend the country against “wicked sects of heretics and Lollards,
who, by perversion of Holy Scripture, do induce erroneous opinions,
sow sedition amongst Christian people, and disturb the peace and
tranquillity of Christian realms, as lately happened in some parts of
Germany, where, by the procurement and sedition of Martin Luther and
other heretics, were slain an infinite number of Christian people.”
To prevent like misfortunes happening in England, he orders prompt
measures to be taken to put a stop to the circulation of books in
English and other languages, which teach things “intolerable to the
clean ears of any good Christian man.”[216]
By the king’s command, the convocation of Canterbury drew up a list
of prohibited heretical books. In the first catalogue of fifty-three
tracts and volumes, there is no mention of any work of Wycliffe, and
besides some volumes which had come from the pens of Tyndale, Frith,
and Roy, who were acknowledged disciples of Luther, the rest are all
the compositions of the German Reformers. The same may be said of a
supplementary list of tracts, the authors of which were unknown. All
these are condemned as containing false teaching, plainly contrary to
the Catholic faith, and the bishops add: “Moreover, following closely
in the footsteps of our fathers, we prohibit all from selling, giving,
reading, distributing, or publishing any tract, booklet, pamphlet,
or book, which translates or interprets the Holy Scripture in the
vernacular … or even knowingly to keep such volumes without the licence
of their diocesan in writing.”[217]
About the same time a committee of bishops, including Archbishop
Warham and Bishop Tunstall was appointed to draw up a list of some
of the principal errors contained in the prohibited works of English
heretics beyond the sea. The king had heard that “many books in the
English tongue containing many detestable errors and damnable opinions,
printed in parts beyond the sea,” were being brought into England and
spread abroad. He was unwilling that “such evil seed sown amongst his
people (should) so take root that it might overgrow the corn of the
Catholic doctrine before sprung up in the souls of his subjects,” and
he consequently ordered this examination. This has been done and the
errors noted, “albeit many more there be in those books; which books
totally do swarm full of heresies and detestable opinions.” The books
thus examined and noted were eight in number: _The Wicked Mammon_;
the _Obedience of Christian man_; the _Revelation of Antichrist_;
the _Sum of Scripture_; the _Book of Beggars_; the _Kalendar of the
Prymer_; the _Prymer_, and an _Exposition unto the Seventh Chapter
of I Corinthians_. From these some hundreds of propositions were
culled which contradicted the plain teaching of the Church in matters
of faith and morality. In this condemnation, as the king states in
his directions to preachers to publish the same, the commission were
unanimous.[218]
The attack on the traditional teachings of the Church, moreover,
was not confined to unimportant points. From the first, high and
fundamental doctrines, as it seemed to men in those days, were put
in peril. The works sent forth by the advocates of the change speak
for themselves, and, when contrasted with those of Luther, leave no
room for doubt that they were founded on them, and inspired by the
spirit of the leader of the revolt, although, as was inevitable in
such circumstances, in particulars the disciples proved themselves in
advance of their master. Writing in 1546, Dr. Richard Smythe contrasts
the old times, when the faith was respected, with the then state of
mental unrest in religious matters. “In our days,” he writes, “not a
few things, nor of small importance, but (alack the more is the pity)
even the chiefest and most weighty matters of our religion and faith
are called in question, babbled, talked, and jangled upon (reasoned
I cannot nor ought not to call it). These matters in time past (when
reason had place and virtue with learning was duly regarded, yea, and
vice with insolency was generally detested and abhorred) were held in
such reverence and honour, in such esteem and dignity, yea, so received
and embraced by all estates, that it was not in any wise sufferable
that tag and rag, learned and unlearned, old and young, wise and
foolish, boys and wenches, master and man, tinkers and tilers, colliers
and coblers, with other such raskabilia might at their pleasure rail
and jest (for what is it else they now do?) against everything that
is good and virtuous, against all things that are expedient and
profitable, not sparing any Sacrament of the Church or ordinance of the
same, no matter how laudable, decent, or fitting it has been regarded
in times past, or how much it be now accepted by good and Catholic
men. In this way, both by preaching and teaching (if it so ought to
be called), playing, writing, printing, singing, and (Oh, good Lord!)
in how many other ways besides, divers of our age, being their own
schoolmasters, or rather scholars of the devil, have not forborne or
feared to speak and write against the most excellent and most blessed
Sacrament of the Altar, affirming that the said Sacrament is nothing
more than a bare figure, and that there is not in the same Sacrament
the very body and blood of our blessed Saviour and Redeemer, Jesus
Christ, but only a naked sign, a token, a memorial and a remembrance
only of the same, if they take it for so much even and do not call it
(as they are wont to do) an idol and very plain idolatry.”[219]
As to the date of the introduction of these heretical views into
England, Sir Thomas More entirely agreed with Dr. Smythe, the writer
just quoted. He places the growth of these ideas in the circulation
of books by Tyndale, Frith, and Barnes, and even as late as 1533,
declares that the number of those who had accepted the new teaching
was grossly exaggerated. He states his belief that “the realm is not
full of heretics, and it has in it but a few, though that few be indeed
over many and grown more also by negligence in some part than there
has been in some late years past.”[220] It was, indeed, part of the
strategy pursued by the innovators in religion to endeavour to make
the movement appear more important than it had any claim to be. It
is, writes More, the “policy” of “these heretics who call themselves
‘evangelical brethren,’” to make their number appear larger than it is.
“Some pot-headed apostles they have that wander about the realm into
sundry shires, for whom every one has a different name in every shire,
and some, peradventure, in corners here and there they bring into the
brotherhood. But whether they get any or none they do not hesitate to
lie when they come home, and say that more than half of every shire is
of their own sect. Boast and brag these blessed brethren never so fast,
they feel full well themselves that they be too feeble in what country
so ever they be strongest. For if they thought themselves able to meet
and match the Catholics they would not, I ween, lie still at rest for
three days.”
“For in all places where heresies have sprung up hitherto so hath it
proved yet. And so negligently might these things be handled, that at
length it might happen so here. And verily they look (far as they be
yet from the power) for it, and some of them have not hesitated to say
this, and some to write it, too. For I read the letter myself which was
cast into the palace of the Right Reverend Father in God, Cuthbert,
now Bishop of Durham, but then Bishop of London, in which among other
bragging word … were these words contained: ‘There will once come a
day.’ And out of question that day they long for but also daily look
for, and would, if they were not too weak, not fail to find it. And
they have the greater hope because … they see that it begins to grow
into a custom that among good Catholic folk they are suffered to talk
unchecked.” For good men in their own minds indeed think the Catholic
faith so strong that heretics with all their babbling will never be
able to vanquish it, “and in this undoubtedly their mind is not only
good, but also very true. But they do not look far enough. For as the
sea will never surround and overwhelm all the land, and yet has eaten
it in many places, and swallowed whole countries up and made many
places sea, which sometime were well-inhabited lands, and has lost part
of its own possession again in other places, so, though the faith of
Christ shall never be overwhelmed with heresy, nor the gate of hell
prevail against Christ’s Church, yet as in some places it winneth in
new peoples, so by negligence in some places the old may be lost.”[221]
Sir Thomas More is all for vigilance on the part of the authorities. He
likens those who are in power and office to the guardians of a fertile
field who are bound to prevent the sowing of tares on their master’s
land; and the multiplication of evil books and their circulation
among the people, cannot, in his opinion, have any other effect than
to prevent the fertilisation of the good seed of God’s word in the
hearts of many. “These new teachers,” he says, “despise Christ’s
Sacraments, which are His holy ordinances and a great part of Christ’s
New Law and Testament. Who can place less value on His commandments
than they who, upon the boldness of faith only, set all good works at
naught, and little consider the danger of their evil deeds upon the
boldness that a bare faith and slight repentance, without shrift or
penance, suffices, and that no vow made to God can bind a man to live
chastely or hinder a monk from marriage. All these things, with many
pestilent errors besides, these abominable books of Tyndale and his
fellows teach us. Of these books of heresies there are so many made
within these few years, what by Luther himself and by his fellows, and
afterwards by the new sects sprung out of his, which, like the children
of Vippara, would now gnaw out their mother’s belly, that the bare
names of those books were almost enough to make a book. Some of every
sort of those books are brought into this realm and kept in ‘hucker
mucker’ by some shrewd masters who keep them for no good. Besides
the Latin, French, and German books of which these evil sects have
put forth an innumerable number, there are some made in the English
tongue. First, Tyndale’s _English Testament_, father of them all by
reason of his false translating, and after that, the _Five Books of
Moses_ translated by the same man; we need not doubt in what manner
and for what purpose. Then you have his _Introduction to Saint Paul’s
Epistle_, with which he introduces his readers to a false understanding
of Saint Paul, making them believe, among many other heresies, that
Saint Paul held that faith only was always sufficient for salvation,
and that men’s good works were worth nothing and could not deserve
thanks or reward in heaven, although they were done in grace.… Then we
have from Tyndale _The Wicked Mammona_, by which many a man has been
beguiled and brought into many wicked heresies, which in good faith
would be to me a matter of no little wonder, for there was never a more
foolish frantic book, were it not that the devil is ever ready to put
out the eyes of those who are content to become blind. Then we have
Tyndale’s _Book of Obedience_, by which we are taught to disobey the
teaching of Christ’s Catholic Church and set His holy Sacraments at
naught. Then we have from Tyndale the _First Epistle of Saint John_,
expounded in such wise that I dare say that blessed Apostle had rather
his Epistle had never been put in writing than that his holy words
should be believed by all Christian people in such a sense. Then we
have the _Supplication of Beggars_, a piteous beggarly book, in which
he would have all the souls in Purgatory beg all about for nothing.
Then we have from George Joye, otherwise called Clarke, a _Goodly Godly
Epistle_, wherein he teaches divers other heresies, but specially that
men’s vows and promises of chastity are not lawful, and can bind no man
in conscience not to wed when he will. And this man, considering that
when a man teaches one thing and does another himself, the people set
less value by his preaching, determined therefore with himself, that
he would show himself an example of his preaching. Therefore, being a
priest, he has beguiled a woman and wedded her; the poor woman, I ween,
being unaware that he is a priest. Then you have also an _Exposition
on the Seventh Chapter of Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Corinthians_,
by which exposition also priests, friars, monks, and nuns are taught
the evangelical liberty that they may run out a-caterwauling and wed.
That work has no name of the maker, but some think it was Friar Roy
who, when he had fallen into heresy, then found it unlawful to live
in chastity and ran out of his Order. Then have we the _Examinations
of Thorpe_ put forth as it is said by George Constantine (by whom I
know well there has been a great many books of that sort sent into
this realm). In that book, the heretic that made it as (if it were) a
communication between the bishop and his chaplains and himself, makes
all the parties speak as he himself likes, and sets down nothing as
spoken against his heresies, but what he himself would seem solemnly
to answer. When any good Christian man who has either learning or any
natural wit reads this book, he shall be able not only to perceive
him for a foolish heretic and his arguments easy to answer, but shall
also see that he shows himself a false liar in his rehearsal of the
matter in which he makes the other part sometimes speak for his own
convenience such manner of things as no man who was not a very wild
goose would have done.
“Then have we _Jonas_ made out by Tyndale, a book that whosoever
delight therein shall stand in such peril, that Jonas was never so
swallowed up by the whale, as by the delight of that book a man’s soul
may be so swallowed by the devil that he shall never have the grace to
get out again. Then, we have from Tyndale the answer to my _Dyalogue_.
Then, the book of Frith against _Purgatory_. Then, the book of Luther
translated into English in the name of Brightwell, but, as I am
informed, it was translated by Frith; a book, such as Tyndale never
made one more foolish nor one more full of lies.… Then, we have the
_Practice of Prelates_, wherein Tyndale intended to have made a special
show of his high worldly wit, so that men should have seen therein that
there was nothing done among princes that he was not fully advertised
of the secrets. Then, we have now the book of Friar Barnes, sometime a
doctor of Cambridge, who was abjured before this time for heresy, and
is at this day come under a safe conduct to the realm. Surely, of all
their books that yet came abroad in English (of all which there was
never one wise nor good) there was none so bad, so foolish, so false
as his. This, since his coming, has been plainly proved to his face,
and that in such wise that, when the books that he cites and alleges
in his book were brought forth before him, and his ignorance showed
him, he himself did in divers things confess his oversight, and clearly
acknowledged that he had been mistaken and wrongly understood the
passages.
“Then, we have besides Barnes’s book, the _A B C for children_. And
because there is no grace therein, lest we should lack prayers, we
have the _Primer_ and the _Ploughman’s Prayer_ and a book of other
small devotions, and then the whole _Psalter_ too. After the _Psalter_,
children were wont to go straight to their _Donat_ and their Accidence,
but now they go straight to Scripture. And for this end we have as a
Donat, the book of the _Pathway to Scripture_, and for an Accidence,
the _Whole sum of Scripture_ in a little book, so that after these
books are learned well, we are ready for Tyndale’s _Pentateuchs_ and
Tyndale’s _Testament_, and all the other high heresies that he and
Joye and Frith and Friar Barnes teach in all their books. Of all these
heresies the seed is sown, and prettily sprung up in these little
books before. For the _Primer_ and _Psalter_, prayers and all, were
translated and made in this manner by heretics only. The _Psalter_ was
translated by George Joye, the priest that is wedded now, and I hear
say the _Primer_ too, in which the seven Psalms are printed without
the Litany, lest folks should pray to the saints; and the _Dirge_ is
left out altogether, lest a man might happen to pray with it for his
father’s soul. In their Calendar, before their devout prayers, they
have given us a new saint, Sir Thomas Hytton, the heretic who was
burned in Kent. They have put him in on St. Matthew’s Eve, by the name
of St. Thomas the Martyr.
“It would be a long work to rehearse all their books, for there are
yet more than I have known. Against all these the king’s high wisdom
politically provided, in that his proclamation forbade any manner of
English books printed beyond the sea to be brought into this realm, or
any printed within this realm to be sold unless the name of the printer
and his dwelling-place were set upon the book. But still, as I said
before, a few malicious, mischievous persons have now brought into this
realm these ungracious books full of pestilent, poisoned heresies that
have already in other realms killed, by schisms and war, many thousand
bodies, and by sinful errors and abominable heresies many more thousand
souls.
“Although these books cannot either be there printed without great
cost, nor here sold without great adventure and peril, yet, with money
sent hence, they cease not to print them there, and send them hither by
the whole sacks full at once; and in some places, looking for no lucre,
cast them abroad at night, so great a pestilent pleasure have some
devilish people caught with the labour, travail, cast, charge, peril,
harm, and hurt of themselves to seek the destruction of others.”[222]
In his introduction to the _Confutation_ of Tyndale’s answer, from
which the foregoing extracts are taken, Sir Thomas More gives ample
evidence that the teaching of “the New Learning” was founded entirely
upon that of the German Reformer Luther, although on certain points his
English followers had gone beyond their master. He takes for example
what Hytton, “whom Tyndale has canonized,” had been teaching “his holy
congregations, in divers corners and luskes lanes.” Baptism, he had
allowed to be “a sacrament necessary for salvation,” though he declared
that there was no need for a priest to administer it. Matrimony, he
thought a good thing for Christians, but would be sorry to say it was
a sacrament. Extreme Unction and Confirmation, together with Holy
Orders, he altogether rejected as sacraments, declaring them to be
mere ceremonies of man’s invention. “The mass,” he declared, “should
never be said,” since to do so was rather an act of sin than virtue.
Confession to a priest was unnecessary, and the penance enjoined was
“without profit to the soul.” Purgatory he denied, “and said further,
that neither prayer nor fasting for the souls departed can do them
any good.” Religious vows were wrong, and those who entered religion
“sinned in so doing.” He held further, that “no man had any free-will
after he had once sinned;” that “all the images of Christ and His
saints should be thrown out of the Church,” and that whatsoever laws
“the Pope or a General Council might make beyond what is expressly
commanded in Scripture” need not be obeyed. “As touching the Sacrament
of the Altar, he said that it was a necessary sacrament, but held that
after the consecration, there was nothing whatever therein, but only
the very substance of material bread and wine.”[223]
Now, it was to defend these points of Catholic faith, as More, in
common with the most learned in the land, believed them to be, that he
took up his pen against Tyndale and others. I wish, he says, to second
“the king’s gracious purpose, as being his most unworthy chancellor,”
since “I know well that the king’s highness, for his faithful mind to
God, desires nothing more effectually than the maintenance of the true
Catholic faith, whereof is his no more honourable than well-deserved
title, ‘defensor.’ He detests nothing more than these pestilent books
which Tyndale and others send over into the realm in order to set
forth their abominable heresies. For this purpose he has not only by
his most erudite famous books, both in English and Latin, declared his
most Catholic purpose and intent, but also by his open proclamations
divers times renewed, and finally in his own most royal person in the
Star Chamber most eloquently by his mouth, in the presence of his
lords spiritual and temporal, has given monition and warning to all
the justices of peace of every quarter of his realm then assembled
before his Highness, to be declared by them to all his people, and did
prohibit and forbid under great penalties, the bringing in, reading,
and keep of those pernicious poisoned books.”[224]
The other writers of the time, moreover, had no doubt whatever as to
the place whence the novel opinions had sprung, and they feared that
social disturbances would follow in the wake of the religious teaching
of the sectaries as they had done in the country of their birth. Thus
Germen Gardynare, writing to a friend about the execution of John Frith
for heresy, says that he was “amongst others found busy at Oxford
in setting abroad these heresies which lately sprang up in Germany,
and by the help of such folk are spread abroad into sundry places of
Christendom, tending to nothing else but to the division and rending
asunder of Christ’s mystical body, His Church; and to the pulling down
of all power and the utter subversion of all commonwealths.”[225]
Sir Thomas More, too, saw danger to the ship of State from the storms
which threatened the nation in the rise of the religious novelties
imported from abroad. As a warning anticipation of what might come to
pass in England if the flood was allowed to gain head, he describes
what was known of the state of Germany when he wrote in 1528. What
helped Luther to successfully spread his poison was, he says, “that
liberty which he so highly commended unto the people, inducing them
to believe that having faith they needed nothing else. For he taught
them to neglect fasting, prayer, and such other things as vain and
unfruitful ceremonies, teaching them also that being faithful
Christians they were so near cousins to Christ that they were, in a
full freedom and liberty, discharged of all governors and all manner of
laws spiritual and temporal, except only the Gospel. And though he said
that, as a point of special perfection, it would be good to suffer and
bear the rule and authority of Popes and princes and other governors,
whose rule and authority he calls mere tyranny, yet he says the people
are so free by faith that they are no more bound thereto than they are
to suffer wrong. And this doctrine Tyndale also teaches as the special
matter of his holy book of disobedience. Now, this doctrine was heard
so pleasantly in Germany by the common people that it blinded them in
looking on the remnant, and would not allow them to consider and see
what end the same would come to. The temporal lords also were glad to
hear this talk against the clergy, and the people were as glad to hear
it against the clergy and against the lords too, and against all the
governors of every good town and city. Finally, it went so far that it
began to burst out and fall to open force and violence. For intending
to begin at the most feeble, a boisterous company of the unhappy sect
gathered together and first rebelled against an abbot, and afterwards
against a bishop, wherewith the temporal lords had good game and sport
and dissembled the matter, gaping after the lands of the spirituality,
till they had almost played as Æsop tells of the dog, which, in order
to snatch at the shadow of the cheese in the water, let the cheese
he had in his mouth fall, and lost it. For so it was shortly after
that those uplandish Lutherans took so great boldness and began to
grow so strong that they set also upon the temporal lords. These … so
acquitted themselves that they slew in one summer 70,000 Lutherans
and subdued the rest in that part of Germany to a most miserable
servitude.… And in divers other parts of Germany and Switzerland this
ungracious sect is so grown, by the negligence of governors in great
cities, that in the end the common people have compelled the rulers to
follow them.…
“And now it is too piteous a sight to see the ‘dispiteous dispyghts’
done in many places to God and all good men, with the marvellous
change from the face and fashion of Christendom into a very tyrannous
persecution, not only of all good Christians living and dead, but
also of Christ Himself. For there you will see now goodly monasteries
destroyed, the places burnt up, and the religious people put out
and sent to seek their living; or, in many cities, the places (the
buildings) yet standing with more despite to God than if they were
burned to ashes. For the religious people, monks, friars, and nuns,
are wholly driven or drawn out, except such as would agree to forsake
their vows of chastity and be wedded; and places dedicated to
cleanliness and chastity, left only to these apostates as brothels to
live there in lechery. Now are the parish churches in many places not
only defaced, all the ornaments taken away, the holy images pulled
down, and either broken or burned, but also the Holy Sacrament cast
out. And the abominable beasts (which I abhor to think about) did
not abhor in despite to defile the pixes and in many places use the
churches continually for a common siege. And that they have done in
so despiteful a wise that when a stranger from other places where
Christ is worshipped resorts to these cities, some of those unhappy
wretched citizens do not fail, as it were, for courtesy and kindness,
to accompany them in their walking abroad to show them the pleasures
and commodities of the town, and then bring them to the church, only
to show them in derision what uses the churches serve for!” Then,
after pointing out that “of this sect were the greater part of those
ungracious people who lately entered into Rome with the Duke of
Bourbon,” Sir Thomas More details at considerable length the horrors
committed during that sack of the Eternal City; adding: “For this
purpose I rehearse to you these their heavy mischievous dealings, that
you may perceive by their deeds what good comes of their sect. For as
our Saviour says: ‘ye shall know the tree by the fruit.’”[226]
The activity of the teachers of the new doctrine was everywhere
remarkable. More only wished that the maintainers of the traditional
Catholic faith were half so zealous “as those that are fallen into
false heresies and have forsaken the faith.” These seem, he says,
indeed to “have a hot fire of hell in their hearts that can never
suffer them to rest or cease, but forces them night and day to labour
and work busily to subvert and destroy the Catholic Christian faith
by every means they can devise.”[227] The time was, “and even until
now very late,” when no man would allow any heresy to be spoken at
his table; for this “has been till of late the common Christian zeal
towards the Catholic faith.” But now (1533) “though, God be thanked,
the faith is itself as fast rooted in this realm as ever it was before
(except in some very few places, and yet even in those few the very
faithful folk are many more than the faithless), even good men are
beginning to tolerate the discussion of heretical views, and to take
part in ‘the evil talk.’”
To understand the Reformation in England, it is important to note
the progress of its growth, and to note that the lines upon which
it developed were to all intents and purposes those which had been
laid down by Luther for the German religious revolution, although, in
many ways, England was carried along the path of reformed doctrines,
even further than the original leader had been prepared to go. The
special points of the traditional faith of the English people, which
the reforming party successfully attacked, were precisely those
which had been the battle-ground in Germany, and Sir Thomas More’s
description of the result there might somewhat later have been written
of this country. Tyndale was described by More as “the captain of the
English heretics,” and the influence of his works no doubt greatly
helped to the overthrow of the traditional teaching. The key of the
position taken up by the English Reformers, as well as by their German
predecessors, was the claim that all belief must be determined by
the plain word of Holy Scripture, and by that alone. Tradition they
rejected, although Sir Thomas More pointed out forcibly that the
Church had always acknowledged the twofold authority of the written
and unwritten word.[228] Upon this ground Tyndale and his successors
rejected all the sacraments but two, attacked popular devotion to
sacred images and prayers to our Lady and the saints, and rejected
the old teaching about Purgatory and the help the souls of the
departed faithful could derive from the suffrages and penances of
the living. Confirmation and the anointing of priests at ordination
they contemptuously called “butter smearing,” and with their denial
of the priesthood quickly came their rejection of the doctrine of the
Sacrifice in the Mass, and their teaching that the Holy Eucharist is a
“token and sign” rather than the actual Body and Blood of our Lord.
No means were left untried to further the spread of the new views.
Books of prayer were drawn up, in which, under the guise of familiar
devotions, the poison of the reformed doctrine was unsuspectedly
imbibed. Richard Whitford complains that his works, which just on the
eve of the Reformation were deservedly popular, had been made use of
for the purpose of interpolating tracts against points of Catholic
faith, which people were induced to buy under the supposition that they
were from the pen of the celebrated monk of Sion. John Waylande, the
printer of some Whitford books, in 1537 prefixed the following notice
to the new edition of the _Werke for Householders_. “The said author
required me instantly that I should not print nor join any other works
with his, specially of uncertain authors. For of late he found a work
joined in the same volume with his works, and bought and taken for his
work. This was not his, but was put there instead of his work that
before was named among the contents of his book, and yet his (real)
work was left out, as is complained in this preface here unto the
Reader.”
In his preface Whitford says that the substituted work was obviously by
one of the Reformers, and “not only puts me into infamy and slander,
but also puts all readers in jeopardy of conscience to be infected (by
heresy) and in danger of the king’s laws, for the manifold erroneous
opinions that are contained in the same book.” He consequently adds a
warning to his readers: “By my poor advice,” he says, “read not those
books that go forth without named authors. For, doubtless, many of them
that seem very devout and good works, are full of heresies, and your
old English poet says, ‘There is no poison so perilous of sharpness as
that is that hath of sugar a sweetness.’”[229]
In a subsequent volume, published in 1541, called _Dyvers holy
instructions and teachings_, Whitford again complains of this device of
the teachers of the new doctrines. In the preface he gives the exact
titles of the four little tracts which go to make up the volume, in
order, as he says, “to give you warning to search well and surely that
no other works are put amongst them that might deceive you. For, of a
certainty, I found now but very lately a work joined and bound with my
poor labours and under the contents of the same volume, and one of my
works which was named in the same contents left out. Instead of this,
was put this other work that was not mine. For the title of mine was
this, ‘A daily exercise and experience of death,’ and the other work
has no name of any author. And all such works in this time are ever to
be suspected, for so the heretics are used to send forth their poison
among the people covered with sugar. For they seem to be good and
devout workers, and are in very deed stark heresies.”[230]
Even the smallest points were not deemed too insignificant for the
teaching of novel doctrines destructive of the old Catholic spirit.
To take an example: John Standish, writing in Mary’s reign about the
vernacular Scripture, complains of the translation which had been made
in the time of Henry VIII. “Who is able,” he writes, “to tell at
first sight how many hundred faults are even in their best translation
(if there is any good). Shall they be suffered still to continue? Shall
they still poison more like as they do in a thousand damnable English
books set forth within the last twenty-two years? Lord deliver us from
them all, and that with all speed! I take God to record (if I may
speak only of one fault in the translation and touch no more) my heart
did ever abhor to hear this word _Dominus_ … translated _the_ Lord,
whereas it ought to be translated _our_ Lord, the very Latin phrase
so declaring. Is not St. John saying to Peter (John, xxi.), _Dominus
est_, ‘it is our Lord’? whereas they have falsely translated it as in
many other places ‘_the_ Lord.’ And likewise in the salutation of our
Lady, ‘Hail, Mary, full of grace, _dominus tecum_,’ does not this word
_dominus_ here include _noster_, and so ought to be translated ‘our
Lord is with thee’? Would you make the Archangel like a devil call him
_the_ Lord? He is the Lord to every evil spirit, but to us He is our
most merciful Lord and ought to be called so. If, perchance, you ask of
a husbandman whose ground that is, he will answer, ‘the lord’s,’ who is
perhaps no better than a collier. Well, I speak this, not now so much
for the translation, seeing that it swarms as full of faults as leaves
(I will not say lines) as I do, because I wish that the common speech
among people sprung from this fond translation, ‘I thank the Lord’;
‘the Lord be praised’; ‘the Lord knoweth’; with all such-like phrases
might be given up, and that the people might be taught to call Him ‘our
Lord,’ saying, ‘I thank our Lord’; ‘our Lord be praised,’[231] &c., &c.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE PRINTED ENGLISH BIBLE
It is very commonly believed that until the influence of Cranmer had
made itself felt, the ecclesiastical authorities continued to maintain
the traditionally hostile attitude of the English Church towards the
English Bible. In proof of this, writers point to the condemnation
of the translations issued by Tyndale, and the wholesale destruction
of all copies of this, the first printed edition of the English New
Testament. It is consequently of importance to examine into the extent
of the supposed clerical hostility to the vernacular Scriptures, and
into the reasons assigned by those having the conduct of ecclesiastical
affairs at that period for the prohibition of Tyndale’s Testament.
It may not be without utility to point out that the existence of any
determination on the part of the Church to prevent the circulation
of vernacular Bibles in the fifteenth century has been hitherto too
hastily assumed. Those who were living during that period may be
fairly considered the most fitting interpreters of the prohibition
of Archbishop Arundel, which has been so frequently adduced as
sufficient evidence of this supposed uncompromising hostility to
what is now called “the open Bible.” The terms of the archbishop’s
monition do not, on examination, bear the meaning usually put upon
it; and should the language be considered by some obscure, there is
absolute evidence of the possession of vernacular Bibles by Catholics
of undoubted orthodoxy with, at the very least, the tacit consent of
the ecclesiastical authorities. When to this is added the fact that
texts from the then known English Scriptures were painted on the walls
of churches, and portions of the various books were used in authorised
manuals of prayer, it is impossible to doubt that the hostility of the
English Church to the vernacular Bible has been greatly exaggerated,
if indeed its attitude has not altogether been misunderstood. This
much may, and indeed must, be conceded, wholly apart from the further
question whether the particular version now known as the Wycliffite
Scriptures is, or is not, the version used in the fifteenth and early
sixteenth century by Catholic Englishmen. That a Catholic version, or
some version viewed as Catholic and orthodox by those who lived in
the sixteenth century, really existed does not admit of any doubt at
all on the distinct testimony of Sir Thomas More. It will be readily
admitted that he was no ordinary witness. As one eminent in legal
matters, he must be supposed to know the value of evidence, and his
uncompromising attitude towards all innovators in matters of religion
is a sufficient guarantee that he would be no party to the propagation
of any unorthodox or unauthorised translations.
Some quotations from Sir Thomas More’s works will illustrate his belief
better than any lengthy exposition. It is unnecessary, he says, to
defend the law prohibiting any English version of the Bible, “for there
is none such, indeed. There is of truth a Constitution which speaks
of this matter, but nothing of such fashion. For you shall understand
that the great arch-heretic Wycliffe, whereas the whole Bible was
long before his days by virtuous and well-learned men translated into
the English tongue, and by good and godly people and with devotion and
soberness well and reverently read, took upon himself to translate
it anew. In this translation he purposely corrupted the holy text,
maliciously planting in it such words, as might in the readers’ ears
serve to prove such heresies as he ‘went about’ to sow. These he not
only set forth with his own translation of the Bible, but also with
certain prologues and glosses he made upon it, and he so managed this
matter, assigning probable and likely reasons suitable for lay and
unlearned people, that he corrupted in his time many folk in this
realm.…
“After it was seen what harm the people took from the translation,
prologues, and glosses of Wycliffe and also of some others, who after
him helped to set forth his sect for that cause, and also for as much
as it is dangerous to translate the text of Scripture out of one tongue
into another, as St. Jerome testifieth, since in translating it is
hard to keep the same sentence whole (i.e. the exact meaning): it was,
I say, for these causes at a Council held at Oxford, ordered under
great penalties that no one might thenceforth translate (the Scripture)
into English, or any other language, on his own authority, in a book,
booklet, or tract, and that no one might read openly or secretly any
such book, booklet, or treatise newly made in the time of the said
John Wycliffe, or since, or should be made any time after, till the
same translation had been approved by the diocesan, or, if need should
require, by a Provincial Council.
“This is the law that so many have so long spoken about, and so few
have all this time sought to look whether they say the truth or not.
For I hope you see in this law nothing unreasonable, since it neither
forbids good translations to be read that were already made of old
before Wycliffe’s time, nor condemns his because it was new, but
because it was ‘naught.’ Neither does it prohibit new translations to
be made, but provides that if they are badly made they shall not be
read till they are thoroughly examined and corrected, unless indeed
they are such translations as Wycliffe and Tyndale made, which the
malicious mind of the translator has handled in such a way that it were
labour lost to try and correct them.”
The “objector,” whom Sir Thomas More was engaged in instructing in
the _Dialogue_, could hardly believe that the formal Provincial
Constitution meant nothing more than this, and thereupon, as Sir Thomas
says: “I set before him the Constitutions Provincial, with Lyndwood
upon it, and directed him to the place under the title _De magistris_.
When he himself had read this, he said he marvelled greatly how it
happened that in so plain a matter men were so deceived.” But he
thought that even if the law was not as he had supposed, nevertheless
the clergy acted as if it were, and always “took all translations out
of every man’s hand whether the translation was good or bad, old or
new.” To this More replied that to his knowledge this was not correct.
“I myself,” he says, “have seen and can show you Bibles, fair and old,
written in English, which have been known and seen by the bishop of
the diocese, and left in the hands of laymen and women, whom he knew
to be good and Catholic people who used the books with devotion and
soberness.” He admitted indeed that all Bibles found in the hands
of heretics were taken away from them, but none of these, so far
as he had ever heard, were burnt, except such as were found to be
garbled and false. Such were the Bibles issued with evil prologues or
glosses, maliciously made by Wycliffe and other heretics. “Further,”
he declared, “no good man would be so mad as to burn a Bible in which
they found no fault.” Nor was there any law whatever that prohibited
the possession, examination, or reading of the Holy Scripture in
English.[232]
In reply to the case of Richard Hunn, who, according to the story set
about by the religious innovators, had been condemned and his dead body
burnt “only because they found English Bibles in his house, in which
they never found other fault than because they were in English,” Sir
Thomas More, professedly, and with full knowledge of the circumstances,
absolutely denies, as he says, “from top to toe,” the truth of this
story.[233] He shows at great length that the whole tale of Hunn’s
death was carefully examined into by the king’s officials, and declares
that at many of the examinations he himself had been present and heard
the witnesses, and that in the end it had been fully shown that Hunn
was in reality a heretic and a teacher of heresy. “But,” urged his
objector, “though Hunn were himself a heretic, yet might the book (of
the English Bible) be good enough; and there is no good reason why a
good book should be burnt.” The copy of this Bible, replied More, was
of great use in showing the kind of man Hunn really was, “for at the
time he was denounced as a heretic, there lay his English Bible open,
and some other English books of his, so that every one could see the
places noted with his own hand, such words and in such a way that no
wise and good man could, after seeing them, doubt what ‘naughty minds’
the men had, both he that so noted them and he that so made them. I
do not remember the particulars,” he continued, “nor the formal words
as they were written, but this I do remember well, that besides other
things found to support divers other heresies, there were in the
prologue of that Bible such words touching the Blessed Sacrament as
good Christian men did much abhor to hear, and which gave the readers
undoubted occasion to think that the book was written after Wycliffe’s
copy, and by him translated into our tongue.”[234]
More then goes on to state his own mind as to the utility of
vernacular Scriptures. And, in the first place, he utterly denies
again that the Church, or any ecclesiastical authority, ever kept the
Bible in English from the people, except “such translations as were
either not approved as good translations, or such as had already been
condemned as false, such as Wycliffe’s and Tyndale’s were. For, as for
other old ones that were before Wycliffe’s days, they remain lawful,
and are in the possession of some people, and are read.” To this
assertion of a plain fact Sir Thomas More’s opponent did not dissent,
but frankly admitted that this was certainly the case,[235] although he
still thought that the English Bible might be in greater circulation
than it was.[236] Sir Thomas More considered that the clergy really had
good grounds not to encourage the spread of the vernacular Scriptures
at that time, inasmuch as those who were most urgent in the matter were
precisely those whose orthodoxy was reasonably suspected. It made men
fear, he says, “that seditious people would do more harm with it than
good and honest folk would derive benefit.” This, however, he declared
was not his own personal view.[237] “I would not,” he writes, “for my
part, withhold the profit that one good, devout, unlearned man might
get by the reading, for fear of the harm a hundred heretics might
take by their own wilful abuse.… Finally, I think that the Provincial
Constitution (already spoken of) has long ago determined the question.
For when the clergy in that synod agreed that the English Bibles
should remain which were translated before Wycliffe’s days, they, as
a necessary consequence, agreed that it was no harm to have the Bible
in English. And when they forbade any new translation to be read till
it were approved by the bishops, it appears clearly that they intended
that the bishop should approve it, if he found it to be faultless, and
also to amend it where it was found faulty, unless the man who made it
was a heretic, or the faults were so many and of such a character that
it would be easier to retranslate it than to mend it.”[238]
This absolute denial of any attitude of hostility on the part of
the Church to the translated Bible is reiterated in many parts of
Sir Thomas More’s English works. When, upon the condemnation of
Tyndale’s Testament, the author pointed to this fact as proof of the
determination of the clergy to keep the Word of God from the people,
More replied at considerable length. He showed how the ground of the
condemnation had nothing whatever to do with any anxiety upon the
part of ecclesiastics to keep the Scriptures from lay people, but was
entirely based upon the complete falsity of Tyndale’s translation
itself. “He pretends,” says Sir Thomas More, “that the Church makes
some (statutes) openly and directly against the Word of God, as in that
statute whereby they have condemned the New Testament. Now, in truth,
there is no such statute made. For as for the New Testament, if he mean
the Testament of Christ, it is not condemned nor forbidden. But there
is forbidden a false English translation of the New Testament newly
forged by Tyndale, altered and changed in matters of great weight, in
order maliciously to set forth against Christ’s true doctrine Tyndale’s
anti-Christian heresies. Therefore that book is condemned, as it is
well worthy to be, and the condemnation thereof is neither openly nor
privily, directly nor indirectly, against the word of God.”[239]
Again, in another place, More replies to what he calls Tyndale’s
“railing” against the clergy, and in particular his saying that they
keep the Scripture from lay people in order that they may not see how
they “juggle with it.” “I have,” he says, “in the book of my _Dyalogue_
proved already that Tyndale in this point falsely belies the clergy,
and that in truth Wycliffe, and Tyndale, and Friar Barnes, and such
others, have been the original cause why the Scripture has been of
necessity kept out of lay people’s hands. And of late, specially, by
the politic provision and ordinance of our most excellent sovereign
the king’s noble grace, not without great and urgent causes manifestly
rising from the false malicious means of Wycliffe and Tyndale,” this
has been prevented. “For this (attempt of Tyndale) all the lay people
of this realm, both the evil folk who take harm from him, and the good
folk that lose their profit by him, have great cause to lament that
ever the man was born.”[240]
The same view is taken by Roger Edgworth, a popular preacher in the
reign of Henry VIII. After describing what he considered to be the
evils which had resulted from the spread of Lutheran literature in
England, he says: “By this effect you may judge the cause. The effect
was evil, therefore there must needs be some fault in the cause. But
what sayest thou? Is not the study of Scripture good? Is not the
knowledge of the Gospels and of the New Testament godly, good, and
profitable for a Christian man or woman? I shall tell you what I think
in this matter. I have ever been in this mind, that I have thought it
no harm, but rather good and profitable, that Holy Scripture should be
had in the mother tongue, and withheld from no man that was apt and
meet to take it in hand, specially if we could get it well and truly
translated, which will be very hard to be had.”[241]
There is, it is true, no doubt, that the destruction of Tyndale’s
Testaments and the increasing number of those who favoured the new
religious opinions, caused people to spread all manner of stories
abroad as to the attitude of the Church authorities in England towards
the vernacular Scriptures. Probably the declaration of the friend,
against whom Sir Thomas More, then Chancellor, in 1530, wrote his
_Dyalogue_, “that great murmurs were heard against the clergy on this
score,” is not far from the truth. Ecclesiastics, he said, in the
opinion of the common people, would not tolerate criticism of their
lives or words, and desired to keep laymen ignorant. “And they” (the
people) “think,” he adds, “that for no other cause was there burned at
St. Paul’s Cross the New Testament, late translated by Master William
Huchin, otherwise called Tyndale, who was (as men say) well known,
before he went over the sea, as a man of right good life, studious and
well learned in the Scriptures. And men mutter among themselves that
the book was not only faultless, but also very well translated, and was
ordered to be burned, because men should not be able to prove that such
faults (as were at Paul’s Cross declared to have been found in it) were
never in fact found there at all; but untruly surmised, in order to
have some just cause to burn it, and that for no other reason than to
keep out of the people’s hands all knowledge of Christ’s Gospel and of
God’s law, except so much as the clergy themselves please now and then
to tell them. Further, that little as this is, it is seldom expounded.
And, as it is feared, even this is not well and truly told; but watered
with false glosses and altered from the truth of the words and meaning
of Scripture, only to maintain the clerical authority. And the fear
lest this should appear evident to the people, if they were suffered to
read the Scripture themselves in their own tongue, was (it is thought)
the very cause, not only for which the New Testament translated by
Tyndale was burned, but also why the clergy of this realm have before
this time, by a Constitution Provincial, prohibited any book of
Scripture to be translated into the English tongue, and threaten with
fire men who should presume to keep them, as heretics; as though it
were heresy for a Christian man to read Christ’s Gospel.”[242]
It has been already pointed out how Sir Thomas More completely disposed
of this assertion as to the hostility of the clergy to “the open
Bible.” In his position of Chancellor of England, More could hardly
have been able to speak with so much certainty about the real attitude
of the Church, had not the true facts been at the same time well
understood and commonly acknowledged. The words of the “objector,”
however, not only express the murmurs of those who were at that
period discontented with the ecclesiastical system; but they voice
the accusations which have been so frequently made from that day to
this, by those who do not as a fact look at the other side. Sir Thomas
More’s testimony proves absolutely that no such hostility to the
English Bible as is so generally assumed of the pre-Reformation Church
did, in fact, exist. Most certainly there never was any ecclesiastical
prohibition against vernacular versions as such, and the most
orthodox sons of the Church did in fact possess copies of the English
Scriptures, which they read openly and devoutly. This much seems
certain.
Moreover, Sir Thomas More’s contention that there was no prohibition is
borne out by other evidence. The great canonist Lyndwood undoubtedly
understood the Constitution of Oxford on the Scriptures in the same
sense as Sir Thomas More. In fact, as it has been pointed out already,
to his explanation Sir Thomas More successfully appealed in proof
of his assertion that there was no such condemnation of the English
Scriptures, as had been, and is still, asserted by some. It has, of
course, been often said that Sir Thomas More, and of course Lyndwood,
were wrong in supposing that there were any translations previous to
that of the version now known as Wycliffite. This is by no means so
clear; and even supposing they were in error as to the date of the
version, it is impossible that they could have been wrong as to the
meaning and interpretation of the law itself, and as to the fact that
versions were certainly in circulation which were presumed by those who
used them to be Catholic and orthodox. Archbishop Cranmer himself may
also be cited as a witness to the free circulation of manuscript copies
of the English Scriptures in pre-Reformation times, since the whole of
his argument for allowing a new version, in the preface to the Bishops’
Bible, rests on the well-known custom of the Church to allow vernacular
versions, and on the fact that copies of the English Scriptures had
previously been in daily use with ecclesiastical sanction.
The same conclusion must be deduced from books printed by men of
authority and unquestionable piety. In them we find the reading of the
Scriptures strongly recommended. To take an example: Thomas Lupset, the
friend and protégé of Colet and Lilly, gives the following advice to
his sisters, two of whom were nuns: “Give thee much to reading; take
heed in meditation of the Scripture, busy thee in the law of God; have
a customable use in divine books.”[243] The same pious scholar has much
the same advice for a youth in the world who had been his pupil. After
urging him to avoid “meddling in any point of faith otherwise than as
the Church shall instruct and teach,” he adds, “more particularly in
writings you shall learn this lesson, if you would sometimes take in
your hand the New Testament and read it with a due reverence”; and
again: “in reading the Gospels, I would you had at hand Chrysostom and
Jerome, by whom you might surely be brought to a perfect understanding
of the text.”[244]
Moreover, the testimony of Sir Thomas More that translations were
allowed by the Church, and that these, men considered rightly or
wrongly, had been made prior to the time of Wycliffe, is confirmed
by Archdeacon John Standish in Queen Mary’s reign. When the question
of the advisability of a vernacular translation was then seriously
debated, he says: “To the intent that none should have occasion to
misconstrue the true meaning thereof, it is to be thought that, if
all men were good and Catholic, then were it lawful, yea, and very
profitable also, that the Scripture should be in English, as long as
the translations were true and faithful.… And that is the cause that
the clergy did agree (as it is in the Constitution Provincial) that the
Bibles that were translated into English before Wycliffe’s days might
be suffered; so that only such as had them in handling were allowed by
the ordinary and approved as proper to read them, and so that their
reading should be only for the setting forth of God’s glory.”[245]
Sir Thomas More, in his _Apology_, points out that although, in his
opinion, it would be a good thing to have a proper English translation,
still it was obviously not necessary for the salvation of man’s soul.
“If the having of the Scripture in English,” he writes, “be a thing
so requisite of precise necessity, that the people’s souls must needs
perish unless they have it translated into their own tongue, then the
greater part of them must indeed perish, unless the preacher further
provide that all people shall be able to read it when they have it. For
of the whole people, far more than four-tenths could never read English
yet, and many are now too old to begin to go to school.… Many, indeed,
have thought it a good and profitable thing to have the Scripture well
and truly translated into English, and although many equally wise
and learned and also very virtuous folk have been and are of a very
different mind; yet, for my own part, I have been and am still of the
same opinion as I expressed in my Dyalogue, if the people were amended,
and the time meet for it.”[246]
The truth is, that there was then no such clamour for the translated
Bible as it has suited the purposes of some writers to represent. In
view of all that is known about the circumstances of those times, it
does not appear at all likely that the popular mind would be really
stirred by any desire for Bible reading. The late Mr. Brewer may be
allowed to speak with authority on this matter when he writes: “Nor,
indeed, is it possible that Tyndale’s writings and translations could
at this early period have produced any such impressions as is generally
surmised, or have fallen into the hands of many readers. His works were
printed abroad; their circulation was strictly forbidden; the price
of them was beyond the means of the poorer classes, even supposing
that the knowledge of letters at that time was more generally diffused
than it was for centuries afterwards. To imagine that ploughmen and
shepherds in the country read the New Testament in English by stealth,
or that smiths and carpenters in towns pored over its pages in the
corners of their masters’ workshops, is to mistake the character and
acquirements of the age.”[247]
“So far from England then being a ‘Bible-thirsty land,’” says a
well-informed writer, “there was no anxiety whatever for an English
version at that time, excepting among a small minority of the
people,”[248] and these desired it not for the thing in itself so much
as a means of bringing about the changes in doctrine and practice
which they desired. “Who is there among us,” says one preacher of the
period, “that will have a Bible, but he must be compelled thereto.” And
the single fact that the same edition of the Bible was often reissued
with new titles, &c., is sufficient proof that there was no such
general demand for Bibles as is pretended by Foxe when he writes: “It
was wonderful to see with what joy this book of God was received, not
only among the learneder sort, and those that were noted for lovers of
the Reformation, but generally all England over among all the vulgar
common people.” “For,” says the writer above quoted, “if the people all
England over were so anxious to possess the new translation, what need
was there of so many penal enactments to force it into circulation, and
of royal proclamations threatening with the king’s displeasure those
who neglected to purchase copies.”[249]
There can be little doubt that the condemnation of the first printed
English Testament, and the destruction, by order of the ecclesiastical
authority, of all copies which Tyndale had sent over to England for
sale, have tended, more than anything else, to confirm in their opinion
those who held that the Church in pre-Reformation England would
not tolerate the vernacular Scriptures at all. It is of interest,
therefore, and importance, if we would determine the real attitude of
churchmen in the sixteenth century to the English Bible, to understand
the grounds of this condemnation. As the question was keenly debated at
the time, there is little need to seek for information beyond the pages
of Sir Thomas More’s works.
The history of Tyndale’s translation is not of such importance in
this respect, as a knowledge of the chief points objected against it.
Some brief account of this history, however, is almost necessary if we
would fully understand the character and purpose of the translation.
William Tyndale was born about the year 1484, and was in turn at Oxford
and Cambridge Universities, and professed among the Friars Observant
at Greenwich. In 1524 he passed over to Hamburg, and then, about the
middle of the year, to Wittenberg, where he attached himself to Luther.
Under the direction at least, of the German reformer, and very possibly
also with his actual assistance, he commenced his translation of the
New Testament. The royal almoner, Edward Lee, afterwards Archbishop
of York, being on a journey to Spain, wrote on December 2, 1525, from
Bordeaux, warning Henry VIII. of the preparation of this book. “I am
certainly informed,” he says, “that an Englishman, your subject, at the
solicitation and instance of Luther, with whom he is, hath translated
the New Testament into English; and within a few days intendeth to
return with the same imprinted into England. I need not to advertise
your Grace what infection and danger may ensue hereby if it be not
withstanded. This is the way to fill your realm with Lutherans. For all
Luther’s perverse opinions be grounded upon bare words of Scripture not
well taken nor understood, which your Grace hath opened (_i.e._ pointed
out) in sundry places of your royal book.”[250]
Luther’s direct influence may be detected on almost every page of the
printed edition issued by Tyndale, and there can be no doubt that
it was prepared with Luther’s version of 1522 as a guide. From the
general introduction of this German Bible, nearly half, or some sixty
lines, are transferred by Tyndale almost bodily to his prologue, whilst
he adopted and printed over against the same chapters and verses,
placing them in the same position in the inner margins, some 190 of the
German reformer’s marginal references. Besides this, the marginal notes
on the outer margin of the English Testament are all Luther’s glosses,
translated from the German. In view of this, it can hardly be a matter
of surprise that Tyndale’s Testament was very commonly known at the
time as “Luther’s Testament in English.”
In this work of translation or adaptation, Tyndale was assisted by
another ex-friar, named Joye, with whom, however, he subsequently
quarrelled, and about whom he then spoke in abusive and violent
terms. At first it was intended to print the edition at Cologne, but
being disturbed by the authorities there, Tyndale fled to Worms,
and at once commenced printing at the press of Peter Schœffer, the
octavo volume which is known as the first edition of Tyndale’s New
Testament. Although the author is supposed to have been a good Greek
scholar, there is evidence to show that the copy he used for the work
of translation was the Latin version of Erasmus, printed by Fisher in
1519, with some alterations taken from the edition of 1522, and some
other corrections from the Vulgate.
John Cochlæus, who had a full and personal knowledge of all the
Lutheran movements at the time, writing in 1533, says: “Eight years
previously, two apostates from England, knowing the German language,
came to Wittenberg, and translated Luther’s New Testament into English.
They then came to Cologne, as to a city nearer to England, with a more
established trade, and more adapted for the despatch of merchandise.
Here … they secretly agreed with printers to print at first three
thousand copies, and printers and publishers pushed on the work with
the firm expectation of success, boasting that whether the king and
cardinal liked it or not, England would shortly ‘be Lutheran.’”[251]
It was this scheme that Cochlæus was instrumental in frustrating, his
representations forcing Tyndale to remove the centre of his operations
to Worms. For the benefit of the Scotch king, to whom his account was
addressed, Cochlæus adds, that Luther’s German translation of the
New Testament was intended of set purpose to spread his errors; that
the people had bought up thousands, and that thereby “they have not
been made better but rather the worse, artificers who were able to
read neglecting their shops and the work by which they ought to gain
the bread of their wives and children.” For this reason, he says,
magistrates in Germany have had to forbid the reading of Luther’s
Testament, and many have been put in prison for reading it. In his
opinion the translation of the Testament into the vernacular had become
an idol and a fetish to the German Lutherans, although in Germany
there were many vernacular translations of both the Old and the New
Testaments, before the rise of Lutheranism.[252]
With a full understanding of the purpose and tendency of Tyndale’s
translation and of the evils which at least some hard-headed men had
attributed to the spread of Luther’s German version, upon which almost
admittedly the English was modelled, the ecclesiastical authorities of
England approached the practical question--what was to be done in the
matter? Copies of the printed edition must have reached England some
time in 1526, for in October of that year Bishop Tunstall of London
addressed a monition to the archdeacons on the subject. “Many children
of iniquity,” he says, “maintainers of Luther’s sect, blinded through
extreme wickedness, wandering from the way of truth and the Catholic
faith, have craftily translated the New Testament into our English
tongue, intermeddling therewith many heretical articles and erroneous
opinions, pernicious and offensive, seducing the simple people;
attempting by their wicked and perverse interpretations to profane
the majesty of Scripture, which hitherto hath remained undefiled,
and craftily to abuse the most holy Word of God, and the true sense
of the same. Of this translation there are many books printed, some
with glosses and some without, containing in the English tongue that
pestiferous and pernicious poison, (and these are) dispersed in our
diocese of London.” He consequently orders all such copies of the New
Testament to be delivered up to his offices within thirty days.[253]
This was the first action of the English ecclesiastical authorities,
and it was clearly taken not from distrust of what the same bishop
calls “the most holy Word of God,” but because they looked on the
version sent forth by Tyndale as a profanation of the Bible, and as
intended to disseminate the errors of Lutheranism.
Of the Lutheran character of the translation the authorities, whether
in Church or State, do not seem to have had from the first the least
doubt. The king himself, in a rejoinder to Luther’s letter of apology,
says that the German reformer “fell in device with one or two lewd
persons, born in this our realm, for the translating of the New
Testament into English, as well with many corruptions of that holy
text, as certain prefaces and other pestilent glosses in the margins,
for the advancement and setting forth of his abominable heresies,
intending to abuse the good minds and devotion that you, our dearly
beloved people, bear toward the Holy Scripture and infect you with the
deadly corruption and contagious odour of his pestilent errors.”[254]
Bishop Tunstall, in 1529, whilst returning from an embassy abroad,
purchased at Antwerp through one Packington, all copies of the English
printed New Testament that were for sale, and, according to the
chronicler Hall, burned them publicly at St. Paul’s in May 1530. For
the same reason the confiscated volumes of the edition first sent
over were committed to the flames some time in 1527,[255] and Bishop
Tunstall explained to the people at Paul’s Cross that the book was
destroyed because in more than two thousand places wrong translations
and corruptions had been detected. Tyndale made a great outcry at
the iniquity of burning the Word of God; but in _The Wicked Mammon_
he declares that, “in burning the New Testament they did none other
thynge than I looked for.” Moreover, as he sold the books knowing the
purpose for which they were purchased, he may be said to have been
a participator in the act he blames. “The fact is,” says a modern
authority, “the books were full of errors and unsaleable, and Tyndale
wanted money to pay the expense of a revised version and to purchase
Vastermann’s old Dutch blocks to illustrate his Pentateuch, and was
glad to make capital in more ways than one by the translation. ‘I am
glad,’ said he, ‘for these two benefits shall come thereof: I shall get
money to bring myself out of debt, and the whole world will cry out
against the burning of God’s Word, and the overplus of the money that
shall remain to me shall make me more studious to correct the said New
Testament, and so newly to imprint the same once again, and I trust the
second you will much better like than you ever did the first.’”[256]
Tyndale allowed nine years to elapse before issuing a second edition
of his Testament. Meantime, as his former assistant, Joye, says,
foreigners looking upon the English Testament as a good commercial
speculation, and seeing that the ecclesiastical authorities in England
had given orders to purchase the entire first issue of Tyndale’s
print, set to work to produce other reprints. Through ignorance of
the language, the various editions they issued were naturally full of
typographical errors, and, as Joye declared, “England hath enough and
too many false Testaments, and is now likely to have many more.” He
consequently set to work himself to see an edition through the press,
in which, without Tyndale’s leave, he made substantial alterations
in his translation. Joye’s version appeared in 1534, and immediately
Tyndale attacked its editor in the most bitter, reproachful terms.
In George Joye’s _Apology_, which appeared in 1535, he tried, as he
says, “to defend himself against so many slanderous lies upon him in
Tyndale’s uncharitable and unsober epistle.” In the course of the
tract, Joye charges Tyndale with claiming as his own what in reality
was Luther’s. “I have never,” he says, “heard a sober, wise man praise
his own works as I have heard him praise his exposition of the fifth,
sixth, and seventh chapters of St. Matthew, insomuch that mine ears
glowed for shame to hear him; and yet it was Luther that made it,
Tyndale only translating it and powdering it here and there with his
own fantasies.”
In a second publication Joye declares Tyndale’s incompetence to judge
of the original Greek. “I wonder,” he says, “how he could compare it
with the Greek, since he himself is not so exquisitely seen therein.…
I know well (he) was not able to do it without such a helper as he
hath ever had hitherto.”[257] Tyndale, however, continued his work of
revision in spite of opposition, and further, with the aid of Miles
Coverdale, issued translations of various portions of the Old Testament.
Shortly after the public burning of the copies of the translated
Testament by Bishop Tunstall, on May 24, 1530, an assembly was called
together by Archbishop Warham to formally condemn these and other books
then being circulated with the intention of undermining the religion
of the country. The king was present in person, and a list of errors
was drawn up and condemned “with all the books containing the same,
with the translation also of Scripture corrupted by William Tyndale,
as well in the Old Testament as in the New.” After this meeting, a
document was issued with the king’s authority, which preachers were
required to read to their people. After speaking of the books condemned
for teaching error, the paper takes notice of an opinion “in some of
his subjects” that the Scripture should be allowed in English. The king
declares that it is a good thing the Scriptures should be circulated
at certain times, but that there are others when they should not be
generally allowed, and taking into consideration all the then existing
circumstances, he “thinketh in his conscience that the divulging of the
Scripture at this time in the English tongue to be committed to the
people … would rather be to their further confusion and destruction
than for the edification of their souls.”
In this opinion, we are told, all in the assembly concurred. At the
same time, however, the king promised that he would have the New
Testament “faithfully and purely translated by the most learned men,”
ready to be distributed when circumstances might allow.
Sir Thomas More plainly states the reason for this prohibition. “In
these days, in which Tyndale (God amend him) has so sore poisoned
malicious and new-fangled folk with the infectious contagion of his
heresies, the king’s highness, and not without the counsel and advice,
not only of his nobles with his other counsellors attending upon his
Grace’s person, but also of the most virtuous and learned men of both
universities and other parts of the realm, specially called thereto,
has been obliged for the time to prohibit the Scriptures of God to be
allowed in the English tongue in the hands of the people, lest evil
folk … may turn all the honey into poison, and do hurt unto themselves,
and spread also the infection further abroad … and by their own fault
misconstrue and take harm from the very Scripture of God.”[258]
Early in 1534 Tyndale took up his abode once more in Antwerp at the
house of an English merchant, and busied himself in passing his
revised New Testament through the press. This was published in the
following November. To it he prefixed a second prologue dealing with
the edition just published by George Joye. This he declares was no
true translation, and charges his former assistant with deliberate
falsification of the text of Holy Scripture in order to support his
errors and false opinions. The edition itself manifests many changes
in the text caused by the criticism to which the former impression had
been subjected, whilst many of the marginal notes “exhibit the great
change that had taken place in Tyndale’s religious opinions, and show
that he had ceased to be an Episcopalian.”[259]
Having given a brief outline of the history of Tyndale’s Testament,
we are now in a position to examine into the grounds upon which the
ecclesiastical authorities of England condemned it. For this purpose,
we need again hardly go beyond the works of Sir Thomas More, who in
several of his tracts deals specifically with this subject. “Tyndale’s
false translation of the New Testament,” he says, “was, as he himself
confesses, translated with such changes as he has made in it purposely,
to the intent that by those changed words the people should be led into
the opinions which he himself calls true Catholic faith, but which all
true Catholic people call very false and pestilent heresies.” After
saying that for this reason this translation was rightly condemned
by the clergy and openly burnt at Paul’s Cross, he continues: “The
faults are so many in Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament, and
so spread throughout the whole book, that it were as easy to weave a
new web of cloth or to sew up every hole in a net, so would it be less
labour to translate the whole book anew than to make in his translation
as many changes as there needs must be before it were made a good
translation. Besides this, no wise man, I fancy, would take bread which
he well knew had once been poisoned by his enemy’s hand, even though he
saw his friend afterwards sweep it ever so clean.… For when it had been
examined, considered, and condemned by those to whom the judgment and
ordering of the thing belonged, and that false poisoned translation had
been forbidden to the people,” it would be the height of presumption
for any one to encourage the people boldly to resist their prince and
disobey their prelates, and give them, as some indeed have, such a poor
reason as this, “that poisoned bread is better than no bread.”[260]
Further, in speaking with sorrow of the flood of heretical literature
which seemed ever growing in volume, Sir Thomas More writes: “Besides
the works in Latin, French, and German, there are made in the English
tongue, first, Tyndale’s New Testament, father of them all, because
of his false translations, and after that the five books of Moses,
translated by the same man, we need not doubt in what manner, when we
know by whom and for what purpose. Then you have his introduction to
St. Paul’s Epistle, with which he introduces his readers to a false
understanding of St. Paul, making them, among many other heresies,
believe that St. Paul held that faith alone was sufficient for
salvation, and that men’s good works were worth nothing and could
deserve no reward in heaven, though they were done in grace.”[261]
Again, he says: “In the beginning of my _Dyalogue_, I have shown that
Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament deserved to be burnt,
because itself showed that he had translated it with an evil mind, and
in such a way that it might serve him as the best means of teaching
such heresies as he had learnt from Luther, and intended to send
over hither and spread abroad within this realm. To the truth of my
assertion, Tyndale and his fellows have so openly testified that I need
in this matter no further defence. For every man sees that there was
never any English heretical book sent here since, in which one item
of their complaint has not been the burning of Tyndale’s Testament.
For of a surety they thought in the first place that his translation,
with their further false construction, would be the bass and the tenor
wherever they would sing the treble with much false descant.”[262]
To take some instances of the false translations to which More
reasonably objects: First, Tyndale substitutes for _Church_ the word
_Congregation_, “a word with no more signification in Christendom than
among the Jews or Turks.” After protesting that Tyndale has no right
to change the signification of a word, as, for example, to speak of “a
football,” and to mean “the world,” More continues: “Most certainly
the word _Congregation_, taken in conjunction with the text, would not,
when he translated it first, have served to make the English reader
understand by it the Church any more than when he uses the word _idols_
for _images_, or _images_ for _idols_, or the word _repenting_ for
_doing penance_, which he also does. And indeed he has since added to
his translation certain notes, viz., that the order of the priesthood
is really nothing, but that every man, woman, and child is a priest as
much as a real priest, and that every man and woman may consecrate the
body of Christ, and say mass as well as a priest, and hear confessions
and absolve as well as a priest can; and that there is no difference
between priests and other folks, but that all are one congregation and
company without any difference, save appointment to preach.”
This enables men to understand “what Tyndale means by using the word
_Congregation_ in his translation in place of _Church_. They also see
clearly by these circumstances that he purposely changed the word to
set forth these his heresies, though he will say he takes them for no
heresies. But, on the other hand, all good and faithful people do, and
therefore they call the Church the Church still, and will not agree to
change the old _Church_ for his new _Congregation_.”[263]
In reply to Tyndale’s claim to be able to use the word _Congregation_
to signify the _Church_, More declares that words must be used in their
ordinary signification. “I say,” he writes, “that this is true of the
usual signification of these words in the English tongue, by the common
custom of us English people that now use these words in our language,
or have used them before our days. And I say that this common custom
and usage of speech is the only way by which we know the right and
proper signification of any word. So much so that if a word were taken
from Latin, French, or Spanish, and from lack of understanding the
tongue from which it came, was used in English for something else than
it signified in the other tongue; then in England, whatsoever it meant
anywhere else, it means only what we understand it. Then, I say, that
in England this word _Congregation_ never did signify the body of
Christian people … any more than the word _assembly_, which has been
taken from French … as _congregation_ is from the Latin.… I say now
that the word Church never has been used to signify in the ordinary
speech of this realm, any other than the body of all those that are
christened. For this reason, and more especially because of Tyndale’s
evil intent, I said, and still say, that he did wrong to change
_Church_ for _Congregation_; a holy word for a profane one, so far as
they have signification in our English tongue, into which Tyndale made
his translation.…[264]
“If Tyndale had done it either accidentally, or purposely merely for
pleasure, and not with an evil intent, I would never have said a word
against it. But inasmuch as I perceive that he has been with Luther,
and was there at the time when he so translated it, and because I knew
well the malicious heresies that Luther had begun to bring forth, I
must needs mistrust him in this change. And now I say that even from
his own words here spoken, you may perceive his cankered mind in his
translation, for he says that Demetrius had gathered a company against
Paul for preaching against _images_. Here the Christian reader may
easily perceive the poison of this serpent. Every one knows that all
good Christian people abhor the idols of the false pagan gods, and also
honour the images of Christ and our Lady, and other holy saints. And
as they call the one sort images, so they call the other sort idols.
Now, whereas St. Paul preached against idols, this good man comes and
says he preached against images. And as he here speaks, even so he
translates, for in the 15th chapter of St. Paul to the Corinthians,
where St. Paul says, ‘I have written to you that ye company not
together … if any that is called a brother be … a worshipper of
_idols’_--there Tyndale translates worshipper of _images_. Because
he would have it seem that the Apostle had in that place forbidden
Christian men to worship images.… Here you may see the sincerity and
plain meaning of this man’s translation.”[265]…
“As he falsely translated _Ecclesia_ into the unknown word
_congregation_, in places where he should have translated it into the
known word of _holy Church_, and this with a malicious purpose to set
forth his heresy of the secret and unknown church wherein is neither
good works nor sacraments, in like manner is it now proved, in the
same way and with like malice, he has translated _idols_ into _images_
… to make it seem that Scripture reprobates the goodly images of our
Saviour Himself and His holy saints.… Then he asks me why I have not
contended with Erasmus whom he calls my darling, for translating this
word _Ecclesia_ into the word _congregatio_.… I have not contended
with Erasmus, my darling, because I found no such malicious intent
with Erasmus, my darling, as I found with Tyndale; for had I found
with Erasmus, my darling, the cunning intent and purpose that I found
with Tyndale, Erasmus, my darling, should be no more ‘my darling.’ But
I find in Erasmus, my darling, that he detests and abhors the errors
and heresies that Tyndale plainly teaches and abides by, and therefore
Erasmus, my darling, shall be my darling still.… For his translation of
_Ecclesia_ by _congregatio_ is nothing like Tyndale’s, for the Latin
tongue had no Latin word used for Church, but the Greek word, Ecclesia,
therefore Erasmus, in his new translation gave it a Latin word. But
we in our English had a proper English word for it, and therefore
there was no cause for Tyndale to translate it into a worse. Erasmus,
moreover, meant therein no heresy, as appears by his writings against
heretics, but Tyndale, intended nothing else thereby, as appears by the
heresies that he himself teaches and abides by. Therefore, there was in
this matter no cause for me to contend with Erasmus, as there was to
contend with Tyndale, with whom I contended for putting ‘congregation’
instead of ‘Church.’”[266]
Further, More blames Tyndale’s translation in its substitution of
_senior_ or _elder_ for the old-established word _priest_. This word,
presbyter, in the Greek, he says, “as it signifies the thing that men
call priest in English, was sometimes called _senior_ in Latin. But
the thing that Englishmen call a priest, and the Greek church called
_presbyter_, and the Latin church also sometimes called _senior_, was
never called elder either in the Greek church, or the Latin or the
English.”[267] He considers, therefore, the change made by Tyndale,
in the second edition of his translation, from senior into elder was
not only no improvement, but a distinct and reiterated rejection of
the well-understood word of priest.… “I said and say,” he continues,
“that Tyndale changed the word priest into senior with the heretical
mind and intent to set forth his heresy, in which he teaches that the
priesthood is no sacrament … for else I would not call it heresy if
any one would translate _presbyteros_ a block, but I would say he was
a blockhead. And as great a blockhead were he that would translate
_presbyteros_ into an elder instead of a priest, for this English word
no more signifies an elder than the Greek word _presbyteros_ signifies
an elderstick.”[268] “For the same reason he might change bishop into
overseer, and deacon into server, both of which he might as well do, as
priest into elder; and then with his English translation he must make
us an English vocabulary of his own device, and so with such provision
he may change chin into cheek, and belly into back, and every word into
every other at his own pleasure, if all England like to go to school
with Tyndale to learn English--but else, not so.”[269]
In the same way More condemns Tyndale for deliberately changing the
word “Grace,” the meaning of which was fully understood by Catholic
Englishmen, into “favour,” “thinking that his own scoffing is
sufficient reason to change the known holy name of virtue through all
Scripture into such words as he himself liketh.”[270] He says the same
of the change of the old familiar words _Confession_ into _knowledge_,
and _penance_ into _repentance_. “This is what Tyndale means: he would
have all willing confession quite cast away and all penance doing
too.”[271] And “as for the word _penance_, whatsoever the Greek word
be, it ever was, and still is, lawful enough (if Tyndale give us leave)
to call anything in English by whatever word Englishmen by common
custom agree upon.… Now, the matter does not rest in this at all. For
Tyndale is not angry with the word, but with the matter. For this
grieves Luther and him that by _penance_ we understand, when we speak
of it … not mere repenting … but also every part of the Sacrament of
Penance; oral confession, contrition of heart, and satisfaction by good
deeds. For if we called it the Sacrament of repentance, and by that
word would understand what we now do by the word penance, Tyndale would
then be as angry with repentance as he is now with penance.”[272]
Speaking specially in another place about the change of the old
word _charity_ into _love_ in Tyndale’s translation, More declared
that he would not much mind which word was used were it not for the
evident intention to change the teaching. When it is done consistently
through the whole book “no man could deem but that the man meant
mischievously. If he called _charity_ sometimes by the bare name
_love_, I would not stick at that. But since charity signifies in
Englishmen’s ears not every common love, but a good virtuous and
well-ordered love, he that will studiously flee from the name of good
love, and always speak of ‘love,’ and always leave out ‘good,’ I would
surely say he meant evil. And it is much more than likely. For it is to
be remembered that at the time of this translation Huchins (or Tyndale)
was with Luther in Wittenberg, and put certain glosses in the margins,
made to uphold the ungracious sect.”… And “the reason why he changed
the name of _charity_ and of the _church_ and of _priesthood_ is no
very great difficulty to perceive. For since Luther and his fellows
amongst their other damnable heresies have one that all salvation rests
on Faith alone--therefore he purposely works to diminish the reverent
mind that men have to charity, and for this reason changes the name of
holy virtuous affection into the bare name of love.”
In concluding his justification of the condemnation of Tyndale’s
Testament and his criticism of the translator’s _Defence_, Sir Thomas
More says: “Every man knows well that the intent and purpose of my
_Dyalogue_ was to make men see that Tyndale in his translation changed
the common known words in order to make a change in the faith. As for
example: he changed the word _Church_ into this word _congregation_,
because he would raise the question which the church was, and set forth
Luther’s heresy that the church which we should believe and obey is
not the common known body of all Christian realms remaining in the
faith of Christ and not fallen away or cut off with heresies.… But
the church we should believe and obey was some secret unknown kind of
evil living and worse believing heretics. And he changed _priest_ into
_senior_, because he intended to set forth Luther’s heresy teaching
that priesthood is no sacrament, but the office of a layman or laywoman
appointed by the people to preach. And he changed _Penance_ into
_repenting_, because he would set forth Luther’s heresy teaching that
penance is no sacrament. This being the only purpose of my _Dyalogue_,
Tyndale now comes and expressly confesses what I proposed to show.
For he indeed teaches and writes openly these false heresies so that
he himself shows now that I then told the people the truth … his own
writing shows that he made his translation to the intent to set forth
such heresies as I said he did.”[273]
John Standish in the tract on the vernacular Scriptures, published
in Queen Mary’s reign, uses in some places the same language as Sir
Thomas More in condemning the translations which had been later in
vogue. “At all times,” he writes, “heretics have laboured to corrupt
the Scriptures that they might serve for their naughty purposes and
to confirm their errors therewith, but especially now in our time. O
good Lord, how have the translators of the Bible into English purposely
corrupted the texts, oft maliciously putting in such words as in the
readers’ ears might serve for the proof of such heresies as they
went about to sow. These are not only set forth in the translations,
but also in certain prologues and glosses added thereunto, and
these things they have so handled (as indeed it is no great mastery
to do) with probable reasons very apparent to the simple and
unlearned, that an infinite number of innocents they have spiritually
poisoned and corrupted within this realm, and caused them to perish
obstinately.”[274]
If further proof were wanting that the New Testament as set forth
by Tyndale was purposely designed to overthrow the then existing
religious principles held by English churchmen, it is furnished by
works subsequently published by the English Lutherans abroad. The tract
named _The Burying of the Mass_, printed in Germany shortly after the
burning of Tyndale’s Testament, was, as Sir Thomas More points out,
intended as a direct attack upon the Sacrifice of the Mass and the
Sacramental system. In it the author poured out the vials of his wrath
upon all those who caused Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament
to be destroyed, saying that they burned it because it destroyed the
Mass. “By this,” adds More, “you may see that the author accounted
the translation very good for the destruction of the Mass.”[275]
Moreover, in a book called _The Wicked Mammon_, published by Tyndale
himself shortly after this, although he blames the style of the author
of _The Burying of the Mass_, he tacitly accepts his assertion that
his translation of the New Testament was intended to bring about the
abolition of the Sacrifice of the Mass.[276]
In later times, after the experience of the religious changes in the
reign of Edward VI., some writers pointed to the evils, religious and
social, as evidence of the harm done by the promiscuous reading of
the Scriptures. In their opinion, what More had feared and foretold
had come to pass. “In these miserable years now past,” says Standish
of Mary’s reign, in this tract on the vernacular Scriptures: “In
these miserable years now past, what mystery is so hard that the
ignorant with the Bible in English durst not set upon, yea and say they
understood it: all was light! They desired no explanation but their
own, even in the highest mysteries.… Alas! experience shows that our
own men through having the Bible in English have walked far above their
reach, being sundry ways killed and utterly poisoned with the letter of
the English Bible.”[277]
The spirit in which the study of Sacred Scripture was taken up by many
in those days is described by the Marian preacher, Roger Edgworth,
already referred to. “Scripture,” he says, “is in worse case than any
other faculty: for where other faculties take upon them no more than
pertaineth to their own science, as (for example) the physician of
what pertains to the health of man’s body, and the carpenter and smith
of their own tools and workmanship--the faculty of Sacred Scripture
alone is the knowledge which all men and women challenge and claim to
themselves and for their own. Here and there the chattering old wife,
the doting old man, the babbling sophister, and all others presume
upon this faculty, and tear it and teach it before they learn it. Of
all such green divines as I have spoken of, it appeareth full well
what learning they have by this, that when they teach any of their
disciples, and when they give any of their books to other men to read,
the first suggestion why he should labour (at) such books is ‘because
of this,’ say they, ‘thou shalt be able to oppose the best priest in
the parish, and tell him he lies.’”[278]
The result is patent in the history of the religious confusions which
followed, for this much must be allowed, whatever view may be taken
of the good or evil which ultimately resulted. Dr. Richard Smith, in
1546, then states the position as he saw it: “In old times the faith
was respected, but in our days not a few things, and not of small
importance, but (alack the more the pity) even the chiefest and most
weighty matters of religion and faith, are called in question, babbled
about, talked and jangled upon (reasoned, I cannot and ought not to
call it).”[279]
Although the cry for the open Bible which had been raised by Tyndale
and the other early English reformers generally assumed the right to
free and personal interpretation of its meaning, no sooner was the
English Scripture put into circulation than its advocates proclaimed
the need of expositions to teach people the meaning they should attach
to it. In fact, the marginal notes and glosses, furnished by Tyndale
chiefly from Lutheran sources, are evidence that even he had no
wish that the people should understand or interpret the sacred text
otherwise than according to his peculiar views. Very quickly after the
permission of Henry VIII. had allowed the circulation of the printed
English Bible, commentators came forward to explain their views.
Lancelot Ridley, for example, issued many such explanations of portions
of the Sacred Text with the object, as he explains, of enabling “the
unlearned to declare the Holy Scriptures now suffered to all people
of this realm to read and study at their pleasure.” For the Bible,
“which is now undeclared (_i.e._ unexplained) to them, and only had
in the bare letter, appears to many rather death than life, rather
(calculated) to bring many to errors and heresies than into the truth
and verity of God’s Word. For this, when unexplained, does not bring
the simple, rude, and ignorant people from their ignorant blindness,
from their corrupt and backward judgments, false trusts, evil beliefs,
vain superstitions, and feigned holiness, in which the people have long
been in blindness, for lack of a knowledge of Holy Scripture which the
man of Rome kept under latch and would not suffer to come to light,
that his usurped power should not have been espied, his worldly glory
diminished, and his profit decayed.”[280]
Again, in another exposition made eight years later, the same writer
complains that still, for lack of teaching what he considers the true
meaning of Scripture, the views of the people are still turned towards
the “old superstitions” in spite of “the open Bible.” “Although the
Bible be in English,” he says, “and be suffered to every man and
woman to read at their pleasures, and commanded to be read every day
at Matins, Mass, and Evensong, yet there remain great ignorance and
corrupt judgments … and these will remain still, except the Holy
Scriptures be made more plain to the lay people who are unlearned by
some commentary or annotation, so that lay people may understand the
Holy Scripture better.”[281] Commentaries would help much, he says in
another place, “to deliver the people from ignorance, darkness, errors,
heresy, superstitions, false trusts, and from evil opinions fixed and
rooted in the hearts of many for lack of true knowledge of God’s Holy
Word, and expel the usurped power of the bishop of Rome and all Romish
dregs.”[282]
It is interesting to find that from the first, whilst objecting to the
interpretation of the old teachers of the Church, and claiming that the
plain text of Scripture was a sufficient antidote and complete answer
to them and their traditional deductions, the “new teachers” found that
without teaching and exposition on their part, the open Bible was by
no means sufficient to wean the popular mind from what they regarded
as superstitious and erroneous ways. Their attitude in the matter is
at least a confirmation of the contention of Sir Thomas More and other
contemporary Catholic writers, that the vernacular Scriptures would be
useless without a teaching authority to interpret their meaning.
A brief word may now be said as a summary of the attitude towards the
vernacular Bible taken up by the ecclesiastical authorities on the eve
of the Reformation. The passages quoted from Sir Thomas More make it
evident that no such hostility on the part of the Church, as writers of
all shades of opinion have too hastily assumed, really existed.[283]
In fact, though those responsible for the conduct of affairs, both
ecclesiastical and lay, at this period objected to the circulation
of Tyndale’s printed New Testament, this objection was based, not on
any dread of allowing the English Bible as such, but on the natural
objection to an obviously incorrect translation. It is difficult to see
how those in authority could have permitted a version with traditional
words changed for the hardly concealed purpose of supporting Lutheran
tenets, with texts garbled and marginal explanations inserted for the
same end. Those who hold that Tyndale’s views were right, and even that
his attempt to enforce them in this way was justifiable, can hardly,
however, blame the authorities at that time in England, secular or lay,
who did not think so, from doing all they could to prevent what they
regarded as the circulation of a book calculated to do great harm if
no means were taken to prevent it. Men’s actions must be judged by the
circumstances under which they acted, and it would be altogether unjust
to regard the prohibition of the Tyndale Scriptures as a final attempt
on the part of the English Church to prevent the circulation of the
vernacular Scriptures. To the authorities in those days at least, the
book in question did not represent the Sacred Text at all. That it was
full of errors, to say the least, is confessed by Tyndale himself; and
as to the chief points in his translation which he defended and which
Sir Thomas More so roundly condemned, posterity has sided with More
and not with Tyndale, for not one of these special characteristics of
the translation in which so much of Tyndale’s Lutheran teaching was
allowed to appear, was suffered to remain in subsequent revisions.
From this point of view alone, those who examine the question with an
unbiassed mind must admit that there was ample justification for the
prohibition of Tyndale’s printed Testament. If this be so, the further
point may equally well be conceded, namely, that the Church on the eve
of the Reformation did not prohibit the vernacular Scriptures as such
at all, and that many churchmen in common with the king, Sir Thomas
More, and other laymen, would, under happier circumstances, have been
glad to see a properly translated English Bible.
CHAPTER IX
TEACHING AND PREACHING
It is very commonly assumed that on the eve of the Reformation, and for
a long period before, there was little in the way of popular religious
instruction in England. We are asked to believe that the mass of the
people were allowed to grow up in ignorance of the meaning of the faith
that was in them, and in a studied neglect of their supposed religious
practices. So certain has this view of the pre-Reformation Church
seemed to those who have not inquired very deeply into the subject,
that more than one writer has been led by this assumption to assert
that perhaps the most obvious benefit of the religious upheaval of the
sixteenth century was the introduction of some general and systematic
teaching of the great truths of religion. Preaching is often considered
as characterising the reforming movement, as contrasted with the old
ecclesiastical system, which it is assumed certainly admitted, even if
it did not positively encourage, ignorance as the surest foundation
of its authority. It becomes of importance, therefore, to inquire if
such a charge is founded upon fact, and to see how far, if at all, the
people in Catholic England were instructed in their religion.
At the outset, it should be remembered that the questions at issue in
the sixteenth century were not, in the first place at least, connected
with the influence of religious teaching on the lives of the people at
large. No one contended that the reformed doctrines would be found to
make people better, or would help them to lead lives more in conformity
with Gospel teaching. The question of what may be called practical
religion never entered into the disputes of the time. Mr. Brewer warns
the student of the history of this period that he will miss the meaning
of many things altogether, and quite misunderstand their drift, if he
starts his inquiry by regarding the Reformation as the creation of
light to illuminate a previous period of darkness, or the evolution of
practical morality out of a state of antecedent chaotic corruption.
“In fact,” he says, “the sixteenth century was not a mass of moral
corruption out of which life emerged by some process unknown to art
or nature; it was not an addled egg cradling a living bird; quite the
reverse.” For, as the historian of the German people, Janssen, points
out, the truth is that the entire social order of the Middle Ages “was
established on the doctrine of good works being necessary for the
salvation of the Christian soul.” Whilst, as Mr. Brewer again notes,
Luther’s most earnest remonstrances were directed not against _bad_
works, but against the undue stress laid by the advocates of the old
religion upon _good_ works. Moreover, an age which could busy itself
about discussions of questions as to “righteousness,” whether of “faith
or works,” “is not a demoralised or degenerate age. These are not the
thoughts of men buried in sensuality.”
Two questions are contained in the inquiry as to pre-Reformation
religious teaching, namely, as to its extent and as to its character.
There can hardly be much doubt that the duty of giving instruction to
the people committed to their charge was fully recognised by the clergy
in mediæval times. In view of the positive legislation of various
synods on the subject of regular and systematic teaching, as well as of
the constant repetition of the obligation in the books of English canon
law, it is obvious that the priests were not ignorant of what was their
plain duty. From the time of the constitution of Archbishop Peckham
at the Synod of Oxford in 1281, to the time of the religious changes,
there is every reason to suppose that the ordinance contained in the
following words was observed in every parish church in the country: “We
order,” says the Constitution, “that every priest having the charge of
a flock do, four times in each year (that is, once each quarter) on one
or more solemn feast days, either himself or by some one else, instruct
the people in the vulgar language simply and without any fantastical
admixture of subtle distinctions, in the articles of the Creed, the Ten
Commandments, the Evangelical Precepts, the seven works of mercy, the
seven deadly sins with their offshoots, the seven principal virtues,
and the seven Sacraments.”
This means that the whole range of Christian teaching, dogmatic and
moral, was to be explained to the people four times in every year; and
in order that there should be no doubt about the matter, the Synod
proceeds to set out in considerable detail each of the points upon
which the priest was to instruct his people. During the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries the great number of manuals intended to help the
clergy in the execution of this law attest the fact that it was fully
recognised and very generally complied with. When at the close of
the latter century, the invention of printing made the multiplication
of such manuals easy, the existence both of printed copies of this
Constitution of Archbishop Peckham, and of printed tracts drawn up
to give every assistance to the parochial clergy in the preparation
of these homely teachings, proves that the law was understood and
acted upon. In the face of such evidence it is impossible to doubt
that, whatever may have been the case as to set sermons and formal
discourses, simple, straightforward teaching was not neglected in
pre-Reformation England, and every care was taken that the clergy might
be furnished with material suitable for the fundamental religious
teaching contemplated by the law. As late as 1466, a synod of the York
Province, held by Archbishop Nevill, not only reiterated this general
decree about regular quarterly instructions of a simple and practical
kind, but set out at great length the points of these lessons in the
Christian faith and life upon which the parish priests were to insist.
Even set discourses of a more formal kind, though probably by no
means so frequent as in these times, when they have to a great extent
superseded the simple instructions of old Catholic days, were by no
means neglected. Volumes of such sermons in manuscript and in print,
as well as all that is known of the great discourses constantly being
delivered at St. Paul’s Cross, may be taken as sufficient evidence of
this. For the conveyance of moral and religious instruction, however,
the regular and homely talks of a parish priest to his people were
vastly more important than the set orations, and it is with these
familiar instructions that the student of this period of our history
has chiefly to concern himself. All the available evidence goes to
show that the giving of these was not only regarded as an obligation
on the pastor; but attendance at them was looked upon as a usual
and necessary portion of the Christian duty. For example, in the
examinations of conscience intended to assist lay people in their
preparation for the Sacrament of penance, there are indications that
any neglect to attend at these parochial instructions was considered
sufficiently serious to become a matter of confession. It is, of
course, hardly conceivable that this should be so, if the giving of
these popular lessons in the duties of the Christian life was neglected
by the priests, or if they were not commonly frequented by the laity.
To take a few instances. “Also,” runs one such examination, “I have
been slow in God’s service, and negligent to pray and to go to church
in due time … loth to hear the Word of God, and the preacher of
the Word of God. Neither have I imprinted it in my heart and borne
it away and wrought thereafter.”[284] Again: “I have been setting
nought by preaching and teaching of God’s Word, by thinking it an
idle thing.”[285] And, to take an example of the view taken in such
documents as to the priest’s duty: “If you are a priest be a true
lantern to the people both in speaking and in living, and faithfully
and truly do all things which pertain to a priest. Seek wisely the
ground of truth and the true office of the priesthood, and be not
ruled blindly by the lewd customs of the world. Read God’s law and
the Expositions of the Holy Doctors, and study and learn and keep
it, and when thou knowest it, preach and teach it to those that are
unlearned.”[286]
Richard Whitford, the Monk of Sion, in his _Work for Householders_,
published first in 1530, lays great stress upon the obligation of
parents and masters to see that those under their charge attended the
instructions given in the parish church. Some may perhaps regard his
greater anxiety for their presence at sermons rather than at Mass,
when it was not possible for them to be at both, as doubtful advice.
In this, however, he agrees with the author of what was the most
popular book of instructions at this period, and the advice itself
is proof that the obligation of attending instructions was regarded
as sufficiently serious to be contrasted with that of hearing Mass.
Speaking of the Sunday duties, Whitford says: “At church on Sundays see
after those who are under your care. And charge them also to keep their
sight in the church close upon their book and beads. And whilst they
are young accustom them always to kneel, stand, and sit, and never walk
in the church. And let them hear the Mass quietly and devoutly, much
part kneeling. But at the Gospel, the Preface, and at the Paternoster
teach them to stand and to make curtesy at the word Jesus, as the
priest does.… If there be a sermon any time of the day let them be
present, all that are not occupied in needful and lawful business;
all other (occupations) laid aside let them ever keep the preachings,
rather than the Mass, if, perchance, they may not hear both.”
Nothing could possibly be more definite or explicit upon the necessity
of popular instructions and upon the duty incumbent upon the clergy of
giving proper vernacular teaching to their flocks than the author of
_Dives et Pauper_, the most popular of the fifteenth-century books of
religious instruction. In fact, on this point his language is as strong
and uncompromising as that which writers have too long been accustomed
to associate with the name of Wycliffe. No more unwarranted assumption
has ever been made in the name of history than that which classed
under the head of Lollard productions almost every fifteenth-century
tract in English, especially such as dealt openly with abuses needing
correction, and pleaded for simple vernacular teaching of religion.
This is what the author of _Dives et Pauper_ says about preaching:
“Since God’s word is life and salvation of man’s soul, all those who
hinder them that have authority of God, and by Orders taken, to preach
and teach, from preaching and teaching God’s word and God’s law, are
manslayers ghostly. They are guilty of as many souls that perish by
the hindering of God’s word, and namely those proud, covetous priests
and curates who can neither teach, nor will teach, nor suffer others
that both can and will and have authority to teach and preach of God
and of the bishop who gave them Orders, but prevent them for fear
lest they should get less from their subjects, or else the less be
thought of, or else that their sins should be known by the preaching
of God’s word. Therefore, they prefer to leave their own sins openly
reproved generally, among other men’s sins. As St. Anselm saith, God’s
word ought to be worshipped as much as Christ’s body, and he sins as
much who hindereth God’s word and despiseth God’s word, or taketh it
recklessly as he that despiseth God’s body, or through his negligence
letteth it fall to the ground. On this place the gloss showeth that it
is more profitable to hear God’s word in preaching than to hear a Mass,
and that a man should rather forbear his Mass than his sermon. For,
by preaching, folks are stirred to contrition, and to forsake sin and
the fiend, and to love God and goodness, and (by it) they be illumined
to know their God, and virtue from vice, truth from falsehood, and
to forsake errors and heresies. By the Mass they are not so, but if
they come to Mass in sin they go away in sin, and shrews they come and
shrews they wend away.… Nevertheless, the Mass profiteth them that are
in grace to get grace and forgiveness of sin.… Both are good, but the
preaching of God’s word ought to be more discharged and more desired
than the hearing of Mass.”[287]
In the same way the author of a little book named _The Interpretatyon
and Sygnyfycacyon of the Masse_, printed by Robert Wyer in 1532,
insists on the obligation of attending the Sunday instruction. “On each
Sunday,” he says, “he shall also hear a sermon, if it be possible, for
if a man did lose or omit it through contempt or custom, he would sin
greatly.”[288] And in _The Myrrour of the Church_, the author tells
those who desire “to see the Will of God in Holy Scripture,” but being
of “simple learning” and “no cunning” cannot read, that they may do so
“in open sermon, or in secret collation” with those who can. And in
speaking of the Sunday duties he tells his readers not to lie in bed,
“but rising promptly you shall go to the church, and with devotion say
your matins without jangling. Also sweetly hear your Mass and all the
hours of the day. And then if there is any preacher in the church who
proposes to make a sermon, you shall sweetly hear the Word of God and
keep it in remembrance.”[289] And lastly, to take one more example, in
Wynkyn de Worde’s _Exornatorium Curatorum_, printed to enable those
having the cure of souls to perform the duties of instruction laid down
by Archbishop Peckham’s Provincial Constitution, whilst setting forth
a form of examination of conscience under the head of the deadly sins,
the author bids the curate teach his people to ask themselves: “Whether
you have been slothful in God’s service, and specially upon the Sunday
and the holy day whether you have been slothful to come to church,
slothful to pray when you have been there, and slothful to hear the
Word of God preached. Furthermore, whether you have been negligent to
learn your _Pater Noster_, your _Ave Maria_, or your Creed, or whether
you have been negligent to teach the same to your own children or to
your god-children. Examine yourself also whether you have taught your
children good manners, and guarded them from danger and bad company.”
The same book insists on the need of such examination of conscience
daily, or at least weekly.[290]
The following in this connection is of interest as being a daily rule
of life recommended to laymen in the English Prymer printed at Rouen
in 1538: “First rise up at six o’clock in the morning at all seasons,
and in rising do as follows: Thank our Lord who has brought you to the
beginning of the day. Commend yourself to God, to Our Lady Saint Mary,
and to the saint whose feast is kept that day, and to all the saints in
heaven. When you have arrayed yourself say in your chamber or lodging,
Matins, Prime, and Hours, if you may. Then go to the church before you
do any worldly works if you have no needful business, and abide in the
church the space of a low mass time, where you shall think on God and
thank Him for His benefits. Think awhile on the goodness of God, on His
divine might and virtue.… If you cannot be so long in the church on
account of necessary business, take some time in the day in your house
in which to think of these things.”… Take your meal “reasonably without
excess or overmuch forbearing of your meat, for there is as much danger
in too little as in too much. If you fast once in a week it is enough,
besides Vigils and Ember days out of Lent.” After dinner rest “an hour
or half-an-hour, praying God that in that rest He will accept your
health to the end, that after it you may serve Him the more devoutly.”
“… As touching your service, say up to _Tierce_ before dinner, and make
an end of all before supper. And when you are able say the _Dirge_ and
_Commendations_ for all Christian souls, at least on holy days, and if
you have leisure say them on other days, at least with three lessons.
Shrive yourself every week to your curate, except you have some great
hindrance. And beware that you do not pass a fortnight unless you have
a very great hindrance. If you have the means refuse not your alms to
the first poor body that asketh it of you that day. Take care to hear
and keep the Word of God. Confess you every day to God without fail of
such sins you know you have done that day.” Think often of our Lord’s
Passion, and at night when you wake turn your thoughts to what our Lord
was doing at that hour in His Passion. In your life look for a faithful
friend to whom you may open “your secrets,” and when found follow
his advice. No doubt this “manner to live well” will perhaps hardly
represent what people at this time ordinarily did. But the mere fact
that it could be printed as a Christian’s daily rule of life as late as
1538, is evidence at any rate that people took at the least as serious
a view of their obligations in religious matters as we should.[291] In
the same way _The art of good lyvyng_, quoted above, suggests as the
proper way to sanctify the Sunday: Meditations on death, the pains of
hell, and the joys of Paradise. Time should be given to reading the
lives of the saints, to saying Matins, and studying the Paternoster and
the Creed. Others should be exhorted to enter into God’s service, and
fathers of families are bound to see that “their children, servants,
and families go to church and hear the preachings.”[292]
By far the most interesting and important part of any inquiry on the
subject of pre-Reformation instructions, regards of course their
nature and effect. We are asked to believe that the people were
allowed to grow up in ignorance of the true nature of religion, and
with superstitions in their hearts which the clergy could easily have
corrected; but which they, on the contrary, rather fostered as likely
to prove of pecuniary value to themselves. To keep the people ignorant
(it is said) was their great object, as it was through the ignorance
of the lay folk that the clergy hoped to maintain their influence and
ascendency, and, it is suggested, to draw money out of the pockets of
the faithful. The reverence which was paid at this time to images of
the saints, and in an especial manner to the crucifix, is often adduced
as proof that the people were evidently badly instructed in the nature
of religious worship; and the destruction of statues, paintings, and
pictured glass by the advanced reformers is thought to be explained,
if not excused, by the absolute need of putting a stop once for all to
a crying abuse. The explanation given to the people by their religious
teachers on the eve of the religious changes on this matter of devotion
to the saints, and of the nature of the reverence to be paid to their
representations, may be taken as a good sample of the practical nature
of the general instructions imparted in those times. The question
divested of all ambiguity is really this: Were the people taught to
understand the nature of an image or representation, or were they
allowed to regard them as objects of reverence in themselves--that is,
as _idols_? The material for a reply to this inquiry is fortunately
abundant. The _Dyalogue_ of Sir Thomas More was written in 1528, in
order to maintain the Catholic teaching about images, relics, and the
praying to saints. To this, then, an inquirer naturally turns in the
first place for an exposition of the common belief in these matters;
for Sir Thomas claims that in his tract he is defending only “the
common faith and belief of Christ’s Church.” “What this is,” he says,
“I am very sure; and perceive it well not only by experience of my
own time and the places where I have myself been to, with the common
report of other honest men from all other places of Christendom.” After
having explained that the commandment of God had reference to idols or
images worshipped as gods, and not to mere representations of Christ,
our Lady, or the Saints,[293] he continues: “but neither Scripture
nor natural reason forbids a man to reverence an image, not fixing
his final intent on the image, but referring the honour to the person
the image represents. In such reverence shown to an image there is no
honour withdrawn from God; but the saint is honoured in his image, and
God in His saint. When a man of mean birth and an ambassador to a great
king has high honour done to him, to whom does that honour redound,
to the ambassador or to the king? When a man on the recital of his
prince’s letter puts off his cap and kisses it, does he reverence the
paper or his prince?… All names spoken and all words written are no
material signs or images, but are made only by consent and agreement
of men to betoken and signify such things, whereas images painted,
graven, or carved, may be so well wrought and so near to the life and
the truth, that they will naturally and much more effectually represent
the thing than the name either spoken or written.… These two words,
_Christus crucifixus_, do not represent to us, either to laymen or to
the learned, so lively a remembrance of His bitter Passion as does
a blessed image of the crucifix, and this these heretics perceive
well enough. Nor do they speak against images in order to further
devotion, but plainly with a malicious mind to diminish and quench
men’s devotions. For they see clearly that no one who loves another
does not delight in his image or in anything of his. And these heretics
who are so sore against the images of God and His holy saints, would
be right angry with him that would dishonestly handle an image made in
remembrance of one of themselves, whilst the wretches forbear not to
handle villainously, and in despite cast dirt upon the holy crucifix,
an image made in remembrance of our Saviour Himself, and not only of
His most blessed Person, but also of His most bitter Passion.”[294]
Later on, in the same tract, rejecting the notion that people did not
fully understand that the image was intended merely to recall the
memory of the person whose image it was, and was not itself in any
sense the thing or person, More says: “The flock of Christ is not so
foolish as those heretics would make them to be. For whereas there is
no dog so mad that he does not know a real coney (_i.e._ rabbit) from
a coney carved and painted, (yet they would have it supposed that)
Christian people that have reason in their heads, and therefore the
light of faith in their souls, would think that the image of our Lady
were our Lady herself. Nay, they be not so mad, I trust, but that
they do reverence to the image for the honour of the person whom it
represents, as every man delights in the image and remembrance of his
friend. And although every good Christian man has a remembrance of
Christ’s passion in his mind, and conceives by devout meditation a
form and fashion thereof in his heart, yet there is no man I ween so
good nor so learned, nor so well accustomed to meditation, but that he
finds himself more moved to pity and compassion by beholding the holy
crucifix than when he lacks it.”[295]
In his work against Tyndale, More again takes up this subject in
reference to the way in which the former in his new translation of
the Bible had substituted the word _idol_ for _image_, as if they
were practically identical in meaning. “Good folk who worship images
of Christ and His saints, thereby worship Christ and His saints, whom
these images represent.” Just as pagan worshippers of idols did evil in
worshipping them, “because in them they worshipped devils (whom they
called gods and whom those idols represented), so Christian men do well
in worshipping images, because in them they worship Christ and His holy
saints.”[296]
Roger Edgworth, the preacher, describes at Bristol in Queen Mary’s
reign how the Reforming party endeavoured to confuse the minds of
the common people as to the meaning of the word idol. “I would,” he
says, “that you should not ignorantly confound and abuse those terms
‘idol’ and ‘image,’ taking an image for an idol and an idol for an
image, as I have heard many do in this city, as well fathers and
mothers (who should be wise) as their babies and children who have
learned foolishness from their parents. Now, at the dissolution of the
monasteries and friars’ houses many images have been carried abroad
and given to children to play with, and when the children have them
in their hands, dancing them in their childish manner, the father or
mother comes and says, ‘What nase, what have you there?’ The child
answers (as she is taught), ‘I have here my idol.’ Then the father
laughs and makes a gay game at it. So says the mother to another,
‘Jugge or Tommy, where did you get that pretty idol?’ ‘John, our parish
clerk gave it to me,’ says the child, and for that the clerk must have
thanks and shall not lack good cheer. But if the folly were only in
the insolent youth, and in the fond unlearned fathers and mothers, it
might soon be redressed.” The fact is, he proceeds to explain, that
the new preachers have been doing all in their power to obscure the
hitherto well-recognised difference in meaning between an image and an
idol. He begs his hearers to try and keep the difference in meaning
between an image and an idol clearly before their minds. “An image is a
similitude of a natural thing that has been, is, or may be,” he tells
them. “An idol is a similitude of what never was or may be. Therefore
the image of the crucifix is no idol, for it represents and signifies
Christ crucified as He was in very deed, and the image of St. Paul with
a sword in his hand as the sign of his martyrdom is no idol, for the
thing signified by it was a thing indeed, for he was beheaded with a
sword.”[297]
In another part of the _Dialogue_ Sir Thomas More pointed out that what
the reforming party said against devotion to images and pilgrimages
could be summed up under one of three heads. They charge the people
with giving “to the saints, and also to their images, honour like in
kind to what they give to God Himself”; or (2) that “they take the
images for the things themselves,” which is plain idolatry; or (3) that
the worship is conducted in a “superstitious fashion with a desire of
unlawful things.” Now, as to these three accusations, More replies:
“The first point is at once soon and shortly answered, for it is not
true. For though men kneel to saints and images, and incense them
also, yet it is not true that they for this reason worship them in
every point like unto God.… They lack the chief point (of such supreme
worship). That is, they worship God in the mind that He is God, which
intention in worship is the only thing that maketh it _latria_, and not
any certain gesture or bodily observance.” It would not be supreme or
divine worship even if “we would wallow upon the ground unto Christ,
having in this a mind that He were the best man we could think of,
but not thinking Him to be God. For if the lowly manner of bodily
observance makes _latria_, then we were in grave peril of idolatry in
our courtesy used to princes, prelates, and popes, to whom we kneel as
low as to God Almighty, and kiss some their hands and some our own,
ere ever we presume to touch them; and in the case of the Pope, his
foot; and as for incensing, the poor priests in every choir are as well
incensed as the Sacrament. Hence if _latria_, which is the special
honour due to God, was contained in these things, then we were great
idolaters, not only in our worship of the saints and of their images,
but also of men, one to another among ourselves.” Though indeed to God
Almighty ought to be shown as “humble and lowly a bodily reverence as
possible, still this bodily worship is not _latria_, unless we so do
it in our mind considering and acknowledging Him as God, and with that
mind and intention do our worship; and this, as I think,” he says, “no
Christian man does to any image or to any saint either.”
“Now, as touching the second point--namely, that people take the images
for the saints themselves, I trust there is no man so mad, or woman
either, that they do not know live men from dead stones, and a tree
from flesh and bone. And when they prefer our Lady at one pilgrimage
place before our Lady at another, or one rood before another, or make
their invocations and vows some to the one and some to the other, I
ween it easy to perceive that they mean nothing else than that our Lord
and our Lady, or rather our Lord for our Lady, shows more miracles at
the one than the other. They intend in their pilgrimages to visit,
some one place and some another, or sometimes the place is convenient
for them, or their devotion leads them; and yet (this is) not for the
place, but because our Lord pleases by manifest miracles to provoke men
to seek Him, or His Blessed Mother, or some Holy Saint of His, in these
places more especially than in some others.”
“This thing itself proves also that they do not take the images of our
Lady for herself. For if they did, how could they possibly in any wise
have more mind to one of them than to the other? For they can have
no more mind to our Lady than to our Lady. Moreover, if they thought
that the image at Walsingham was our Lady herself then must they needs
think that our Lady herself was that image. Then, if in like manner
they thought that the image at Ipswich was our Lady herself, and as
they must then need think that our Lady was the image at Ipswich, they
must needs think that all these three things were one thing.… And so
by the same reason they must suppose that the image at Ipswich was the
self-same image as at Walsingham. If you ask any one you take for the
simplest, except a natural fool, I dare hold you a wager she will tell
you ‘nay’ to this. Besides this, take the simplest fool you can find
and she will tell you our Lady herself is in heaven. She will also
call an image an image, and she will tell you the difference between
an image of a horse and a horse in very deed. And this appears clearly
whatever her words about her pilgrimage are calling, according to the
common manner of speech, the image of our Lady, our Lady. As men say,
‘Go to the King’s Head for wine,’ not meaning his real head, but the
sign, so she means nothing more in the image but our Lady’s image, no
matter how she may call it. And if you would prove she neither takes
our Lady for the image, nor the image for our Lady--talk with her about
our Lady and she will tell you that our Lady was saluted by Gabriel;
that our Lady fled into Egypt with Joseph; and yet in the telling she
will never say that ‘our Lady of Walsingham,’ or ‘of Ipswich,’ was
saluted by Gabriel, or fled into Egypt. If you would ask her whether
it was ‘our Lady of Walsingham,’ or ‘our Lady of Ipswich,’ that stood
by the cross at Christ’s Passion, she will, I warrant you, make answer
that it was neither of them; and if you further ask her, ‘which Lady
then,’ she will name you no image, but our Lady who is in heaven. And
this I have proved often, and you may do so, too, when you will and
shall find it true, except it be in the case of one so very a fool that
God will give her leave to believe what she likes. And surely, on this
point, I think in my mind that all those heretics who make as though
they had found so much idolatry among the people for mistaking (the
nature) of images, do but devise the fear, to have some cloak to cover
their heresy, wherein they bark against the saints themselves, and when
they are marked they say they only mean the wrong beliefs that women
have in images.”[298]
As regards the third point--namely, that honour is sometimes shown to
the saints and their images in “a superstitious fashion with a desire
of unlawful things,” More would be ready to blame this as much as any
man if it could be shown to be the case. “But I would not,” he says,
“blame all things which are declared to be of this character by the
new teachers. For example, to pray to St. Apollonia for the help of
our teeth is no witchcraft, considering that she had her teeth pulled
out for Christ’s sake. Nor is there any superstition in other suchlike
things.” Still, where abuses can be shown they ought to be put down as
abuses, and the difference between a lawful use and an unlawful abuse
recognised. But because there may be abuses done on the Sunday, or
in Lent, that is no reason why the Sunday observance, or the fast of
Lent, should be swept away.[299] “In like manner it would not be right
that all due worship of saints and reverence of relics, and honour of
saints’ images, by which good and devout folk get much merit, should
be abolished and put down because people abuse” these things. “Now,
as touching the evil petitions,” he continues, “though they who make
them were, as I trust they are not, a great number, they are not yet
so many that ask evil petitions of saints as ask them of God Himself.
For whatsoever such people will ask of a good saint, they will ask of
God Himself, and where as the worst point it is said, ‘that the people
do idolatry in that they take the images for the saints themselves, or
the rood for Christ Himself,’--which, as I have said, I think none do;
for some rood has no crucifix thereon, and they do not believe that the
cross which they see was ever at Jerusalem, or that it was the holy
cross itself, and much less think that the image that hangs on it is
the body of Christ Himself. And though some were so mad as to think so,
yet it is not ‘the people’ who do so. For a few doddering dames do not
make the people.”[300]
It is hard to imagine any teaching about the use and abuse of images
clearer than that which is contained in the foregoing passages from Sir
Thomas More’s writings. The main importance of his testimony, however,
is not so much this clear statement of Catholic doctrine on the nature
of devotion to images, as his positive declaration that there were not
such abuses, or superstitions, common among the people on the eve of
the religious changes, as it suited the purpose of the early reformers
to suggest, and of later writers with sectarian bias to believe.
For evidence of positive and distinct teaching on the matter of
reverence to be shown to images, and on its nature and limits, we
cannot do better than refer to that most popular book of instruction
in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, already referred to,
called _Dives et Pauper_, a treatise on the Ten Commandments. It was
multiplied from the beginning of the fifteenth century in manuscript
copies, and printed editions of it were issued from the presses of
Pynson, Wynkyn de Worde, and Thomas Berthelet. These editions published
by our early printers are sufficient to attest its popularity, and
the importance attached to it as a book of instruction by the
ecclesiastical authorities on the eve of the Reformation.
This is how the teacher lays down the general principle of loving God:
“The first precept of charity is this: Thou shalt love the Lord God
with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, with all
thy might. When He saith thou shalt love thy God with all thy heart,
He excludeth all manner of idolatry that is forbidden by the first
commandment; that is, that man set not his heart, nor his faith, nor
his trust in any creature more than in God, or against God’s worship.…
God orders that thou shouldst love Him with all thy heart, that is to
say, with all thy faith, in such a way that thou set all thy faith and
trust in Him before all others, as in Him that is Almighty and can
best help thee in thy need.” Later on, under the same heading, we are
taught that: “by this commandment we are bound to worship God, who is
the Father of all things, who is called the Father of mercies and God
of all comfort. He is our Father, for He made us of nought: He bought
us with His blood, He findeth us all that we need, and much more, He
feedeth us. He is our Father by grace, for by His grace He hath made
us heirs of heavenly bliss. Was there ever a father so tender of his
child as God is tender of us? He is to us both father and mother,
and therefore we are bound to love Him and worship Him above all
things.”[301]
Under the first commandment the whole question as to images, and the
nature of the reverence to be paid to them, is carefully considered,
and the matter put so plainly, that there is no room for doubt as to
the nature of the instructions given to the people in pre-Reformation
days. Images, the teacher explains, are ordered for three great ends,
namely: “To stir men’s minds to meditate upon the Incarnation of Christ
and upon His life and passion, and upon the lives of the saints;”
secondly, to move the heart to devotion and love, “for oft man is
stirred more by sight than by hearing or reading;” thirdly, they “are
intended to be a token and a book to the ignorant people, that they may
read in images and painting as clerks read in books.”
And in reply to a question from _Dives_, who pretended to think that
it would be difficult to read a lesson from any painting, _Pauper_
explains his meaning in calling them “books to the unlearned.” “When
thou seest the image of the crucifix,” he says, “think of Him that
died on the cross for thy sins and thy sake, and thank Him for His
endless charity that He would suffer so much for thee. See in images
how His head was crowned with a garland of thorns till the blood burst
out on every side, to destroy the great sin of pride which is most
manifested in the heads of men and women. Behold, and make an end to
thy pride. See in the image how His arms were spread abroad and drawn
up on the tree till the veins and sinews cracked, and how His hands
were nailed to the cross, and streamed with blood, to destroy the sin
that Adam and Eve did with their hands when they took the apple against
God’s prohibition. Also He suffered to wash away the sin of the wicked
deeds and wicked works done by the hands of men and women. Behold,
and make an end of thy wicked works. See how His side was opened and
His heart cloven in two by the sharp spear, and how it shed blood and
water, to show that if He had had more blood in His body, more He would
have given for men’s love. He shed His blood to ransom our souls, and
water to wash us from our sins.”
But whilst the instructor teaches the way in which the crucifix may
be a book full of deep meaning to the unlearned, he is most careful
to see that the true signification of the image is not misunderstood.
In language which for clearness of expression and simplicity of
illustration cannot be excelled, he warns _Dives_ not to mistake the
real nature of the reverence paid to the symbol of our redemption. “In
this manner,” he says, “read thy book and fall down to the ground and
thank thy God who would do so much for thee. Worship Him above all
things--not the stock, nor the stone, nor the wood, but Him who died
on the tree of the cross for thy sins and thy sake. Thou shalt kneel
if thou wilt before the image, but not to the image. Thou shalt do thy
worship before the image, before the thing, not to the thing; offer
thy prayer before the thing, not to the thing, for it seeth thee not,
heareth thee not, understandeth thee not: make thy offering, if thou
wilt, before the thing, but not to the thing: make thy pilgrimage not
to the thing, nor for the thing, for it may not help thee, but to Him
and for Him the thing represents. For if thou do it for the thing, or
to the thing, thou doest idolatry.”
This plain teaching as to the only meaning of reverence paid to images,
namely, that it is relative and intended for that which the image
represents, our author enforces by several examples. Just as a priest
when saying mass with a book before him, bends down, holds up his
hands, kneels, and performs other external signs of worship, not to the
book, but to God, “so should the unlettered man use his book, that is
images and paintings, not worshipping the thing, but God in heaven and
the saints in their degree. All the worship which he doth before the
thing, he doth, not to the thing, but to Him the thing represents.”
The image of the crucified Saviour on the altar is specially intended,
our author says, to remind all that “Mass singing is a special
mind-making of Christ’s passion.” For this reason, in the presence of
the crucifix, the priest says “his mass, and offers up the highest
prayer that Holy Church can devise for the salvation of the quick and
the dead. He holds up his hands, he bows down, he kneels, and all the
worship he can do, he does--more than all, he offers up the highest
sacrifice and the best offering that any heart can devise--that is
Christ, the Son of the God of heaven, under the form of bread and
wine. All this worship the priest doth at mass before the thing--the
crucifix; and I hope there is no man nor woman so ignorant that he will
say that the priest singeth his mass, or maketh his prayer, or offers
up the Son of God, Christ Himself, to the thing.… In the same way,
unlettered men should worship before the thing, making prayer before
the thing, and not to the thing.”
One of the special practices of the mediæval church to which the
English reformers objected, and to which they gave the epithet
“superstitious,” was the honour shown to the cross on Good Friday,
generally known as “the creeping to the cross.” The advocates of change
in insisting upon this time-honoured ceremony being swept away, claimed
that in permitting it the Church had given occasion to wrong ideas of
worship in the minds of the common people, and that the reverence shown
to the symbol of our redemption on that occasion amounted practically
to idolatry. In view of such assertions, it is not without interest
to see how _Pauper_ in this book of simple instructions treats this
matter. “On Good Friday especially,” says _Dives_, “men creep to the
cross and worship the cross.” “That is so,” replies the instructor,
“but not in the way thou meanest. The cross that we creep to and
worship so highly at that time is Christ Himself, who died on the cross
on that day for our sin and our sake.… He is that cross, as all doctors
say, to whom we pray and say, ‘_Ave crux, spes unica_,’ ‘Hail, thou
cross, our only hope.’” But rejoins _Dives_, “On Palm Sunday, at the
procession the priest draweth up the veil before the rood and falleth
down to the ground with all the people, saying thrice thus, ‘_Ave Rex
noster_,’ ‘Hail, be Thou our King.’ In this he worships the thing as
King! _Absit!_” “God forbid!” replies _Pauper_, “he speaks not to the
image that the carpenter hath made and the painter painted, unless the
priest be a fool, for the stock and stone was never king. He speaketh
to Him that died on the cross for us all--to Him that is King of all
things.… For this reason are crosses placed by the wayside, to remind
folk to think of Him who died on the cross, and to worship Him above
all things. And for this same reason is the cross borne before a
procession, that all who follow after it or meet it should worship Him
who died upon a cross as their King, their Head, their Lord and their
Leader to Heaven.”
Equally clear is the author of _Dives et Pauper_ upon the distinction
between the worship to be paid to God and the honour it is lawful to
give to His saints. It is, of course, frequently asserted that the
English pre-Reformation church did not recognise, or at least did not
inculcate, this necessary difference, and consequently tolerated, even
if it did not suggest, gross errors in this matter. No one who has
examined the manuals of instruction which were in use on the eve of the
Reformation can possibly maintain an opinion so opposed to the only
evidence available. In particular, the real distinction between the
supreme worship due to God alone, and the honour, however great, to be
paid to His creatures is drawn out with great care and exactness in
regard to the devotion paid to our Lord’s Blessed Mother. Thus, after
most carefully explaining that there are two modes of “service and
worship” which differ not merely in degree, but in kind and nature, and
which were then, as now, known under the terms _latria_ and _dulia_,
our author proceeds, “Latria is a protestation and acknowledgment of
the high majesty of God; the recognition that He is sovereign goodness,
sovereign wisdom, sovereign might, sovereign truth, sovereign justice;
that He is the Creator and Saviour of all creatures and the end of all
things; that all we have we have of Him, and that without Him we have
absolutely nothing; and that without Him we can neither have nor do
anything, neither we nor any other creature. This acknowledgment and
protestation is made in three ways: by the heart, and by word, and by
deed. We make it by the heart when we love Him as sovereign goodness;
when we love Him as sovereign wisdom and truth, that may not deceive
nor be deceived; when we hope in Him and trust Him as sovereign might
that can best help us in need; as sovereign greatness and Lord, who may
best yield us our deserts; and as sovereign Saviour, most merciful and
most ready to forgive us our misdeeds.… Also the acknowledgment is done
in the prayer and praise of our mouths.… For we must pray to Him and
praise Him as sovereign might, sovereign wisdom, sovereign goodness,
sovereign truth; as all-just and merciful as the Maker and Saviour of
all things, &c.
“And in this manner we are not to pray to or praise any creature.
Therefore, they who make their prayers and their praises before images,
and say their _Paternoster_ and their _Ave Maria_ and other prayers and
praises commonly used by holy Church, or any such, if they do it to the
image, and speak to the image, they do open idolatry. Also they are not
excused even if they understand not what they say, for their lights,
and their other wits, and their inner wit also, showeth them well that
there ought that no such prayer, praise, or worship be offered to such
images, for they can neither hear them, nor see them, nor help them in
their needs.”
Equally definite and explicit is another writer, just on the eve of the
Reformation. William Bond, the brother of Sion, in 1531 published his
large volume of instructions called _The Pilgrymage of Perfeccyon_, to
which his contemporary, Richard Whitford, refers his readers for the
fullest teaching on sundry points of faith and practice. In setting
forth the distinction between an _image_ and an _idol_ this authority
says, “Many nowadays take the Scripture wrongly, and thereby fall into
heresy as Wycliffe did with his followers, and now this abominable
heretic, Luther, with his adherents.… And (as I suppose) the cause
of their error is some of these following:--First, that they put no
difference between an idol and an image; secondly, that they put no
difference between the service or high adoration due to God, called
in the Greek tongue _latria_, and the lower veneration or worship
exhibited and done to the saints of God, called in Greek _dulia_.… The
veneration or worship that is done to the images (as Damascene, Basil,
and St. Thomas say) rest not in them, but redound unto the thing that
is represented by such images: as for example, the great ambassador
or messenger of a king shall have the same reverence that the king’s
own person should have if he were present. This honour is not done to
this man for himself, or for his own person, but for the king’s person
in whose name he cometh, and all such honour and reverence so done
redoundeth to the king and resteth in him.… So it is in the veneration
or worshipping of the images of Christ and His saints. The honour
rests not in the image, nor in the stock, nor in the stone, but in the
thing that is represented thereby.” According to St. Thomas, he says
the images in churches are intended to “be as books to the rude and
unlearned people,” and to “stir simple souls to devotion.”[302]
Bond then draws out most carefully the distinction which the Church
teaches as to the kinds of honour to be given to the saints. “Our
lights, oblations, or Paternosters and creeds that we say before images
of saints,” he says, “are as praisings of God, for His graces wrought
in His saints, by whose merits we trust that our petitions shall be the
sooner obtained of God.… We pray to them, not as to the granters of our
petitions, but as means whereby we may the sooner obtain the same.”[303]
Speaking specially of the reverence shown to the crucifix, our author
uses the teaching of St. Thomas to explain the exact meaning of this
honour. “The Church in Lent, in the Passion time,” he continues,
“worships it, singing, ‘_O crux ave, spes unica_,’ ‘Hail, holy cross,
our only hope.’ That is to be understood as ‘Hail, blessed Lord
crucified, Who art our only hope’--for all is one worship and act.
Christ, our Maker and Redeemer, God and man in one person, is of duty
worshipped with the high adoration only due to God, called _latria_.
His image also, or his similitude, called the crucifix, is to be
worshipped, just as the Blessed Sacrament is adored with the worship of
_latria_.”[304]
To this testimony may be added that of another passage from Sir Thomas
More. He was engaged in refuting the accusation made by Tyndale against
the religious practices of pre-Reformation days, to which charges,
unfortunately, people have given too much credence in later times. “Now
of prayer, Tyndale says,” writes More, “that we think no man may pray
but at church, and that (_i.e._ the praying before a crucifix or image)
is nothing but the saying of a _Paternoster_ to a post. (Further)
that the observances and ceremonies of the Church are vain things of
our own imagination, neither needful to the taming of the flesh, nor
profitable to our neighbour, nor to the honour of God. These lies come
in by lumps; lo! I dare say that he never heard in his life men nor
women say that a man might pray only in church. Just as true is it also
that men say their _Paternosters_ to the post, by which name it pleases
him of his reverent Christian mind to call the images of holy saints
and our Blessed Lady, and the figure of Christ’s cross, the book of
His bitter passion. Though we reverence these in honour of the things
they represent, and in remembrance of Christ do creep to the cross and
kiss it, and say _Paternoster_ at it, yet we say not our _Paternoster_
to it, but to God; and that Tyndale knows full well, but he likes to
rail.”[305]
Finally a passage on the subject of pre-Reformation devotion to the
saints and angels, from the tract _Dives et Pauper_, may fitly close
this subject. “First,” says the author, “worship ye our Lady, mother
and maid, above all, next after God, and then other saints both men
and women, and then the holy angels, as God giveth the grace. Worship
ye them not as God, but as our tutors, defenders and keepers, as our
leaders and governors under God, as the means between us and God, who
is the Father of all and most Sovereign Judge, to appease Him, and to
pray for us, and to obtain us grace to do well, and for forgiveness
of our misdeeds.… And, dear friend, pray ye heartily to your angel,
as to him that is nearest to you and hath most care of you, and is,
under God, most busy to save you. And follow his governance and trust
in him in all goodness, and with reverence and purity pray ye to him
faithfully, make your plaints to him, and speak to him homely to be
your helper, since he is your tutor and keeper assigned to you by God.
Say oft that holy prayer, _Angele qui meus est_, &c.”
This prayer to the Guardian Angel, so highly commended, was well known
to pre-Reformation Catholics. Generations of English mothers taught it
to their children; it is found frequently recommended in the sermons
of the fifteenth century, and confessors are charged to advise their
penitents to learn and make use of it. For the benefit of those of
my readers who may not know the prayer, I here give it in an English
form, from a Latin version in the tract _Dextra Pars Oculi_, which
was intended to assist confessors in the discharge of their sacred
ministry--
“O angel who my guardian art,
Through God’s paternal love,
Defend, and shield, and rule the charge
Assigned thee from above.
From vice’s stain preserve my soul,
O gentle angel bright,
In all my life be thou my stay,
To all my steps the light.”
It is, of course, impossible here to do more than refer to the
books of instruction, and those intended to furnish the priests on
the eve of the Reformation with material for the familiar teaching
they were bound to give their people. Such works as Walter Pagula’s
_Pars Oculi Sacerdotis_, and the _Pupilla Oculi_ of John de Burgo,
both fourteenth-century productions, were in general use during the
fifteenth century among the clergy. The frequent mention of these works
in the inventories and wills of the period shows that they were in
great demand, and were circulated from hand to hand, whilst an edition
of the latter, printed in 1510 by Wolffgang, at the expense of an
English merchant, William Bretton, attests its continued popularity.
In a letter from the editor, Augustine Aggeus, to Bretton, printed on
the back of the title-page, it is said that the _Pupilla_ was printed
solely with the desire that the rites and sacraments of the church
might be better understood and appreciated, and to secure “that nowhere
in the English Church” should there be any excuse of ignorance on those
matters.[306]
The contents of the first-named tract, the _Pars Oculi Sacerdotis_,
show how very useful a manual it must have been to assist the clergy
in their ministrations. It consists of three parts: the first portion
forms what would now be called the _praxis confessarii_, a manual
for instructing priests in the science of dealing with souls, and
giving examples of the kind of questions that should be asked of
various people, for example, of religious, secular priests, merchants,
soldiers, and the like. This is followed by a detailed examination
of conscience, and pious practices are suggested for the priest to
recommend for the use of the faithful. For example, in order that the
lives of lay people might be associated in some way with the public
prayer of the church, the Divine office, the priest is advised to get
his penitents to make use of the Pater and Creed, seven times a day,
to correspond with the canonical hours. Those having the cure of souls
are reminded that it is their duty to see that all at least know the
Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Hail Mary by heart, and they are
urged to do all in their power to inculcate devotions to our Lady,
Patron Saints, and the Guardian Angels.
The second part of the _Dextra Pars Oculi_ deals minutely and carefully
with the instructions which a priest should give his people in their
religion, and this includes not only points of necessary belief
and Christian practice, but such matters as the proper decorum and
behaviour in Church, and the cemetery, &c. The materials for these
familiar instructions are arranged under thirty-one headings, and
following on these are the explanations of Christian faith and practice
to be made in the simple sermons the clergy were bound to give to their
people quarterly. The third part, called the _Sinistra Pars Oculi_, is
an equally careful treatise on the sacraments. The instructions on the
Blessed Eucharist are excellent, and in the course of them many matters
of English religious practice are touched upon and the ceremonies of
the Mass are fully explained.[307]
It is obvious that much of the real religious instruction in
pre-Reformation days, as indeed in all ages, had to be given at home by
parents to their children. The daily practices by which the home life
is regulated and sanctified are more efficacious in the formation of
early habits of solid piety and the fear of God in the young than any
religious instructions given at school or at Church. This was fully
understood and insisted upon in pre-Reformation books of instruction.
Such, for example, is the very purpose of Richard Whitford’s book,
called _A werke for Housholders, or for them that have the guyding or
governance of any company_, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1534, and
again by Robert Redman in 1537. After reminding his readers that life
is short, and that it is impossible for any man to know when he shall
be called upon to give an account of his stewardship, he turns to the
consideration of the Christian’s daily life. Begin the day well, he
says; on first awakening, turn your thoughts and heart to God, “and
then use by continual custom to make a cross with your thumb upon your
forehead or front, whilst saying these words, _In nomine Patris_; and
another cross upon your mouth, with these words, _Et filii_; and then
a third cross upon your breast, saying, _Et spiritus Sancti_.” After
suggesting a form of morning and evening prayer, and urging a daily
examination of conscience, he continues: Some may object that all this
is very well for religious, or people secluded from the world, “but we
lie two or three sometimes together, and even in one chamber divers
beds, and so many in company, that if we should use these things in the
presence of our fellows some would laugh us to scorn and mock at us.”
But to this objection Whitford in effect replies that at most it would
be a nine days’ wonder, and people would quickly be induced to follow
an example of such a good Christian practice if set with courage and
firmness.[308]
Speaking of the duty of instructing others, “the wretch of Syon,” as
Whitford constantly calls himself, urges those who can read to use
their gifts for the benefit of others not so fortunate. They should get
their neighbours together on holidays, he says, especially the young,
and teach them the daily exercise, and in particular the “things they
are bound to know or can say: that is the _Paternoster_, the _Ave_,
and the _Creed_.” Begin early to teach those that are young, for “our
English proverb saith that the young cock croweth as he doth hear and
learn of the old.” Parents, above all things, he urges to look well
after their children and to take care of the company they keep. Teach
them to say their grace at meals. “At every meal, dinner or supper,
I have advised, and do now counsel, that one person should with loud
voice say thus, ‘Paternoster,’ with every petition paraphrased and
explained, and the Hail Mary and Creed likewise. This manner of the
Paternoster, Ave, and Creed,” he says, “I would have used and read from
the book at every meal, or at least once a day with a loud voice that
all the persons present may hear it.” People are bound to see that all
in their house know these prayers and say them.[309]
Very strongly indeed does Whitford in this volume write against belief
in charms and giving way to superstitions. There is no question about
his strong condemnation of anything, however slight, which might
savour of reliance on these external things, and as an instance of
what he means, he declares that the application of a piece of bread,
with a cross marked upon it, to a tooth to cure its aching, savours of
superstition, as showing too great a reliance on the material cross. In
the same place our author urges parents to correct their children early
for any use of oaths and strong expressions. “Teach your children,” he
says, “to make their additions under this form: ‘yea, father,’ ‘nay,
father,’ ‘yea, mother,’ ‘nay, mother,’ and ever to avoid such things as
‘by cock and pye,’ and ‘by my hood of green,’ and such other.”[310]
Finally, to take but one more example of the advice given in this
interesting volume to parents and others having the charge of the
young, Whitford says: “Teach your children to ask a blessing every
night, kneeling, before they go to rest, under this form: ‘Father, I
beseech you a blessing for charity.’” If the child is too stubborn to
do this, he says let it “be well whisked.” If too old to be corrected
in this way, let it be set out in the middle of the dining-room and
made to feed by itself, and let it be treated as one would treat one
who did not deserve to consort with its fellows. Also teach the young
“to ask a blessing from every bishop, abbot, and priest, and of their
godfathers and godmothers also.”[311]
In taking a general survey of the books issued by the English presses
upon the introduction of the art of printing, the inquirer can hardly
fail to be struck with the number of religious, or quasi-religious,
works which formed the bulk of the early printed books. This fact
alone is sufficient evidence that the invention which at this period
worked a veritable revolution in the intellectual life of the world,
was welcomed by the ecclesiastical authorities as a valuable auxiliary
in the work of instruction. In England the first presses were set up
under the patronage of churchmen, and a very large proportion of the
early books were actually works of instruction or volumes furnishing
materials to the clergy for the familiar and simple discourses which
they were accustomed to give four times a year to their people. Besides
the large number of what may be regarded as professional books chiefly
intended for use by the ecclesiastical body, such as missals, manuals,
breviaries, and horæ, and the prymers and other prayer-books used by
the laity, there was an ample supply of religious literature published
in the early part of the sixteenth century. In fact, the bulk of the
early printed English books were of a religious character, and as the
publication of such volumes was evidently a matter of business on the
part of the first English printers, it is obvious that this class of
literature commanded a ready sale, and that the circulation of such
books was fostered by those in authority at this period. Volumes of
sermons, works of Instruction on the Creed and the Commandments, lives
of the saints, and popular expositions of Scripture history, were not
only produced but passed through several editions in a short space
of time. The evidence, consequently, of the productions of the first
English printing-presses goes to show not only that religious books
were in great demand, but also that so far from discouraging the use
of such works of instruction, the ecclesiastical authorities actively
helped in their diffusion.
In considering the religious education of the people in the time
previous to the great upheaval of the sixteenth century, some account
must be taken of the village mystery plays which obviously formed no
inconsiderable part in popular instruction in the great truths of
religion. The inventories of parish churches and the churchwardens’
accounts which have survived show how very common a feature these
religious plays formed in the parish life of the fifteenth century, and
the words of the various dramas, of which we still possess copies, show
how powerful a medium of teaching they would have been among the simple
and unlettered villagers of Catholic England, and even to the crowds
which at times thronged great cities like Coventry and Chester, to be
present at the more elaborate plays acted in these traditional centres
of the religious drama.
As to their popularity there can be no question. Dramatic
representations of the chief events in the life of our Lord, &c., were
commonly so associated with the religious purposes for which they were
originally produced, that they were played on Sundays and feast days,
and not infrequently in churches, church porches, and churchyards.
“Spectacles, plays, and dances that are used on great feasts,” says
the author of _Dives et Pauper_, quoted above, “as they are done
principally for devotion and honest mirth, and to teach men to love
God the more, are lawful if the people be not thereby hindered from
God’s service, nor from hearing God’s word, and provided that in such
spectacles and plays there is mingled no error against the faith of
Holy Church and good living. All other plays are prohibited, both on
holidays and work days (according to the law), upon which the gloss
saith that the representation in plays at Christmas of Herod and the
Three Kings, and other pieces of the Gospel, both then and at Easter
and other times, is lawful and commendable.”
A few examples of the kind of teaching imparted in these plays will
give a better idea of the purpose they served in pre-Reformation days
than any description. There can be no reasonable doubt that such
dramatic representations of the chief mysteries of religion and of
scenes in the life of our Lord or of His saints served to impress
these truths and events upon the imaginations of the audiences who
witnessed them, and to make them vivid realities in a way which we,
who are not living in the same religious atmosphere, find it difficult
now to understand. The religious drama was the handmaid of the Church,
and was intended to assist in instructing the people at large in the
truths and duties of religion, just as the paintings upon the walls of
the sacred buildings were designed to tell their own tale of the Bible
history, and form “a book” ever open to the eyes of the unlettered
children of the Church, easy to be understood, graphically setting
forth events in the story of God’s dealings with men, and illustrating
truths which often formed the groundwork for oral instruction in the
Sunday sermon.
Whatever we may be inclined to think of these simple plays as literary
works, or however we may be inclined now to smile at some of the
characters and “situations,” as to the pious spirit which dictated
their composition and presided over their production there can be
no doubt. “In great devotion and discretion,” says the monk and
chronicler, “Higden published the story of the Bible, that the simple
in their own language might understand.”[312]
This was the motive of all these mediæval religious plays. As a popular
writer upon the English drama says: “There is abundant evidence that
the Romish ecclesiastics in the mystery plays, especially that part
of them relating to the birth, passion, and resurrection of Christ,
had the perfectly serious intention of strengthening the faith of the
multitude in the fundamental doctrines of the Church, and it seems the
less extraordinary that they should have resorted to this expedient
when we reflect that, before the invention of printing, books had no
existence for the people at large.”[313]
The subjects treated of in these plays were very varied, although
those which were performed at the great feasts of Christmas and
Easter generally had some relation to the mystery then celebrated. In
fact, the mystery plays of the sacred seasons were only looked upon
as helping to make men realise more deeply the great drama of the
Redemption, the memory of which was perpetuated in the sequence of
the great festivals of the Christian year. In such a collection as
that known as the _Towneley Mysteries_, and published by the Surtees
Society, we have examples of the subjects treated in the religious
plays of the period. The collection makes no pretence to be complete,
but it comprises some three and thirty plays, including such subjects
as the Creation, the death of Abel, the story of Noah, the sacrifice of
Isaac and other Old Testament histories, and a great number of scenes
from the New Testament, such as the Annunciation, the Visitation, Cæsar
Augustus, scenes from the Nativity, the Shepherds and the Magi, the
Flight into Egypt, various scenes from the Passion and Crucifixion, the
parable of the Talents, the story of Lazarus, &c.
Any one who will take the trouble to read these plays as they are
printed in this volume cannot fail to be impressed not only with the
vivid picture of the special scene in the Old or New Testament that
is presented to the imagination, but by the extensive knowledge of
the Bible which the production of these plays must have imparted to
those who listened to them, and by the way in which, incidentally, the
most important religious truths are conveyed in the crude and rugged
verse. Again and again, for instance, the entire dependence of all
created things upon the Providence of Almighty God is declared and
illustrated. Thus, the confession of God’s Omnipotence, put into the
mouth of Noah at the beginning of the play of “Noah and his Sons,”
contains a profession of belief in the Holy Trinity and in the work of
the three Persons: it describes the creation of the world, the fall
of Lucifer, the sin of our first parents, and their expulsion from
Paradise. In the story of Abraham, too, the prayer of the patriarch
with which it begins:
“Adonai, thou God very,
Thou hear us when to Thee we call,
As Thou art He that best may,
Thou art most succour and help of all,”
gives a complete résumé of the Bible history before the days of
Abraham, with the purpose of showing that all things are in the hands
of God, and that complete obedience is due to Him by all creatures whom
He has made.
The same teaching as to the entire dependence of the Christian for all
things upon God’s Providence appears in the address of the soul to its
Maker in the “morality” of Mary Magdalene, printed by Mr. Sharpe from
the Digby Manuscript collection of religious plays:--
“_Anima_:
‘Sovereign Lord, I am bound to Thee;
When I was nought, Thou made me thus glorious;
When I perished through sin, Thou saved me;
When I was in great peril, Thou kept me, Christus;
When I erred, Thou reduced me, Jesus;
When I was ignorant, Thou taught me truth;
When I sinned, Thou corrected me thus;
When I was heavy, Thou comforted me by truth (_i.e._ Thy mercy);
When I stand in grace, Thou holdest me that tide;
When I fall, Thou raisest me mightily;
When I go well, Thou art my guide;
When I come, Thou receivest me most lovingly;
Thou hast anointed me with the oil of mercy;
Thy benefits, Lord, be innumerable:
Wherefore laud endless to Thee I cry;
Recommending me to Thy endless power endurable.’”
The more these old plays which delighted our forefathers are examined,
the more clear it becomes that, although undoubtedly unlearned and
unread, the people in pre-Reformation days, with instruction such as
is conveyed in these pious dramas, must have had a deeper insight into
the Gospel narrative, and a more thorough knowledge of Bible history
generally, not to speak of a comprehension of the great truths of
religion, than the majority of men possess now in these days of boasted
enlightenment. Some of the plays, as for example that representing St.
Peter’s fall, exhibit a depth of genuine feeling, of humble sorrow, for
instance, on the part of St. Peter, and of loving-kindness on the part
of our Lord, which must have come home to the hearts as well as to the
minds of the beholders. At the same time, the lesson deduced by our
Saviour from the apostle’s fall, namely, the need of all learning by
their own shortcomings to be merciful to the trespasses of others, must
have impressed itself upon them with a force which would not easily
have been forgotten.
In that most popular of all representations--that of Doomsday--“people
learnt that before God there is no distinction of persons, and that
each individual soul will be judged on its own merits, quite apart
from any fictitious human distinctions of rank, wealth, or power.”
Thus, as types, appear a _saved_ pope, emperor, king and queen, and
amongst the _damned_ we also find a pope, emperor, king and queen,
justiciar and merchant. And the words of thankfulness uttered by the
Pope that has obtained his crown betrays “no self-satisfaction at the
attainment of salvation; on the contrary, the true ring of Christian
humility betokens a due appreciation of God’s unutterable holiness, and
our unworthiness to stand before His face till the uttermost blemish
left by sin has been wiped away” by the healing fires of Purgatory.
No less clearly is the full doctrine of responsibility taught in the
lament of the Pope, who is represented as having lost his soul by an
evil life, and as being condemned to eternal punishment. The mere fact
of a pope being so represented was in itself, when the Office was
held in the highest regard, a lesson of the highest importance in the
teaching of the true principles of holiness. In a word, these mystery
plays provided a most useful means of impressing upon the minds of
all the facts of Bible history, the great truths of religion, and the
chief Christian virtues. The people taught in such a school and the
people who delighted in such representations, as our forefathers in
pre-Reformation days unquestionably did, cannot, even from this point
of view alone, be regarded as ignorant of scriptural or moral teaching.
CHAPTER X
PARISH LIFE IN CATHOLIC ENGLAND
To understand the attitude of men’s minds to the ecclesiastical
system on the eve of the great religious changes of the sixteenth
century, some knowledge of the parochial life of Catholic England is
necessary. Under present conditions, when unity has given place to
diversity, and three centuries of continuous wrangling “over secret
truths which most profoundly affect the heart and mind” have done much
to coarsen and deaden our spiritual sense; when the religious mind of
England manifests every shade of belief and unbelief without conscious
reflection on the logical absurdity of the position, it is by no means
easy to realise the influence of a state of affairs when all men, from
the highest to the lowest, in every village and hamlet throughout the
length and breadth of the land, had but one creed, worshipped their
Maker in but one way, and were bound together with what most certainly
were to them the real and practical ties of the Christian brotherhood.
It is hardly possible to overestimate the effect of surroundings upon
individual opinion, or the influence of a congenial atmosphere both
on the growth and development of a spirit of religion and on the
preservation of Christian morals and religious practices generally.
When all, so far as religious faith is concerned, thought the same, and
when all, so far as religious observance is concerned, did the same,
the very atmosphere of unity was productive of that spirit of common
brotherhood, which appears so plainly in the records of the period
preceding the religious revolt of the sixteenth century. Those who will
read below the surface and will examine for themselves into the social
life of that time must admit, however much they feel bound to condemn
the existing religious system, that it certainly maintained up to the
very time of its overthrow a hold over the minds and hearts of the
people at large, which nothing since has gained. Religion overflowed,
as it were, into popular life, and helped to sanctify human interests,
whilst the affection of the people was manifested in a thousand ways in
regard to what we might now be inclined to consider the ecclesiastical
domain. Whether for good or evil, religion in its highest and truest
sense, at least as it was then understood, was to the English people
as the bloom upon the choicest fruit. Whatever view may be taken as
to advantage or disadvantage which came to the body politic, or to
individuals, by the Reformation, it must be admitted that at least
part of the price paid for the change was the destruction of the sense
of corporate unity and common brotherhood, which was fostered by the
religious unanimity of belief and practice in every village in the
country, and which, as in the main-spring of its life, and the very
central point of its being, centred in the Church with its rites and
ceremonies.
A Venetian traveller at the beginning of the sixteenth century bears
witness to the influence of religion upon the English people of that
time. His opinion is all the more valuable, inasmuch as he appeals
to the experience of his master, who was also the companion of his
travels, to confirm his own impressions, and as he was fully alive to
the weak points in the English character, of which he thus records his
opinion: “The English are great lovers of themselves and of everything
belonging to them; they think that there are no other men but
themselves and no other world but England. Whenever they see a handsome
foreigner they say that ‘he looks like an Englishman,’ or that ‘it is a
great pity that he should not be an Englishman,’ and when they partake
of any delicacy with a foreigner they ask him whether such a thing is
made in his country.”[314] In regard to the religious practices of
the people, this intelligent foreigner says, “They all attend mass
every day, and say many _Paternosters_ in public. The women carry long
rosaries in their hands, and any who can read take the Office of Our
Lady with them, and with some companion recite it in Church verse by
verse, in a low voice, after the manner of churchmen. On Sundays they
always hear Mass in their parish church and give liberal alms, because
they may not offer less than a piece of money of which fourteen are
equivalent to a golden ducat. Neither do they omit any form incumbent
on good Christians.”[315]
In these days perhaps the suggestion that the English people commonly
in the early sixteenth century were present daily at morning Mass is
likely to be received with caution, and classed among the strange tales
proverbially told by travellers, then as now. It is, however, confirmed
by another Venetian who visited England some few years later, and who
asserts that every morning “at daybreak he went to Mass arm-in-arm with
some English nobleman or other.”[316] And, indeed, the same desire of
the people to be present daily at the Sacrifice of the Mass is attested
by Archbishop Cranmer when, after the change had come, he holds up
to ridicule the traditional observances previously in vogue. What he
specially objected to was the common practice of those who run, as
he says, “from altar to altar, and from sacring, as they call it, to
sacring, peeping, tooting, and gazing at that thing which the priest
held up in his hands … and saying, ‘this day have I seen my Maker,’ and
‘I cannot be quiet except I see my Maker once a day.’”[317]
If there were no other evidence of the affection of the English people
on the eve of the Reformation for their religion, that of the stone
walls of the churches would be sufficient to prove the sincerity of
their love. In the whole history of English architecture nothing is
more remarkable than the activity in church building manifested during
the later half of the fifteenth and the early part of the sixteenth
centuries. From one end of England to the other in the church walls
are to be seen the evidences of thought and skill, labour and wealth,
spent freely upon the sacred buildings during a period when it might
not unnaturally have been thought that the civil dissensions of the
Wars of the Roses, and the consequent destruction of life and property,
would have been fatal to enterprise in the field of church building and
church decoration and enrichment. It is not in any way an exaggeration
to say that well-nigh every village church in England can show signs
of this marvellous activity, whilst in many cases there is unmistakable
evidence of personal care and thought in the smallest details.
No less remarkable than the extent of this movement is the source
from which the money necessary for all the work upon the cathedrals
and parish churches of the country came. In previous centuries, to
a great extent churches and monastic buildings owed their existence
and embellishment mainly to the individual enterprise of the powerful
nobles or rich ecclesiastics; but from the middle of the fifteenth
century the numerous, and, in many cases, even vast operations,
undertaken in regard to ecclesiastical buildings and ornamentation,
were the work of the people at large, and were mainly directed by their
chosen representatives. At the close of the fifteenth century, church
work was in every sense of the word a popular work, and the wills,
inventories, and churchwardens’ accounts prove beyond question that the
people generally contributed generously according to their means, and
that theirs was the initiative, and theirs the energetic administration
by which the whole was accomplished.[318] Gifts of money and valuables,
bequests of all kinds, systematic collections by parish officials, or
by directors of guilds, often extending over considerable periods,
and the proceeds of parish plays and parish feasts, were the ordinary
means by which the sums necessary to carry out these works of building
and embellishment were provided. Those who had no money to give brought
articles of jewellery, such as rings, brooches, buckles, and the
like, or articles of dress or of domestic utility, to be converted
into vestments, banners, and altar hangings to adorn the images and
shrines, to make the sacred vessels of God’s house, or to be sold for
like purposes. For the same end, and to secure the perpetuity of lamps
before the Blessed Sacrament, or lights before the altars of saints,
people gave houses and lands into the care of the parish officials, or
made over to them cattle and sheep to be held in trust, which, when
let out at a rent, formed a permanent endowment for the furtherance of
these sacred purposes.
Undoubtedly the period with which we are concerned was not merely an
age of building, but an age of decoration, and of decoration which
may almost be described as “lavish.” The very architecture of the
time is proof of the wealth of ornament with which men sought to give
expression to their enthusiastic love of the Houses of God, which
they had come to regard as the centre of their social no less than
of their religious life. Flowing lines in tracery and arch moulding
gave place to straight lines, groined roofs were enriched by extra
ribs, and panels of elaborate work covered the plain surfaces of
former times; the very key-stones of the vaulting became pendants,
and the springers branched out like palm trees, forming that rich and
entirely English variety of groin called “fan-tracery,” such as we
see at Sherborne, Eton, King’s College, Cambridge, and Henry VII.’s
Chapel at Westminster. “In other respects,” says a modern writer, “the
architects of the fifteenth century were very successful. Few things
can be seen more beautiful than the steeples of Gloucester Cathedral
and St. Mary’s, Taunton. The open roofs, as for example that of St.
Peter Mancroft, Norwich, are superb, and finally they have left us a
large number of enormous parish churches all over the country, full of
interesting furniture and decoration.”
The fact is, that this was the last expression of Gothic as a living
art. The builders and beautifiers of the English churches on the eve of
the religious changes spoke still a living language, and their works
still tell us of the fulness of the hearts which planned and executed
such works. It is somewhat difficult for us to understand this, when
living in an age of imitation, and at a time when architecture has no
longer a language of its own. “Imitation,” writes Mr. Ferguson, “is
in fact all we aim at in the architectural art of the present day. We
entrust its exercise to a specially educated class, most learned in the
details of the style they are called upon to work in, and they produce
buildings which delight the scholars and archæologists of the day, but
which the less educated classes neither understand nor appreciate,
and which will lose their significance the moment the fashion which
produced them has passed away.
“The difference between this artificial state of things and the
practice of a true style will not be difficult to understand. When,
for instance, Gothic was a living art in England, men expressed
themselves in it as in any other part of the vernacular. Whatever
was done was a part of the usual, ordinary every-day life, and men
had no more difficulty in understanding what others were doing than
in comprehending what they were saying. A mason did not require to be
a learned man to chisel what he had carved ever since he was a boy,
and what alone he had seen being done during his lifetime, and he
adapted new forms just in the same manner and as naturally as men adapt
new modes of expression in language as they happen to be introduced,
without even remarking it. At that time any educated man could design
in Gothic Art, just as any man who can read and write can now compose
and give utterance to any poetry or prose that may be in him.
“Where art is a true art, it is naturally practised and as easily
understood, as a vernacular literature of which, indeed, it is an
essential and most expressive part, and so it was in Greece and
Rome, and so, too, in the Middle Ages. But with us it is little more
than a dead corpse, galvanised into spasmodic life by a few selected
practitioners for the amusement and delight of a small section of
the specially educated classes. It expresses truthfully neither our
wants nor our feelings, and we ought not to be surprised how very
unsatisfactory every modern building really is, even when executed
by the most talented architects as compared with the productions of
our village mason or parish priest at an age when men sought only to
express clearly what they felt strongly, and sought to do it only in
their natural mother tongue, untrammelled by the fetters of a dead or
familiar foreign form of speech.”[319]
To any one who will examine the churchwardens’ accounts of the period
previous to the religious changes, the truth of the above quotation
will clearly appear. Then, if ever, ecclesiastical art and architecture
was the living expression of popular feeling and popular love of
religion, and the wholesale destruction of ancient architectural
monuments throughout the land, the pulling down of rood and screen and
image, the casting down of monuments sacred to the memory of the best
and holiest and most venerated names in the long roll of English men
of honour, the breaking up of stone-work and metal-work upon which
the marks of the chisel of the mason and graver were yet fresh, the
whitewash daubed over paintings which had helped to make the parish
churches objects of beauty and interest to the people, the ruthless
smashing of the pictured window lights, and the pillage of the sacred
vessels and vestments and hangings, which the people and their fathers
had loved to provide for God’s service--all this and much more of the
same kind, the perhaps inevitable accompaniments of the religious
change, was nothing less to the people than proscription by authority
of the national language of art and architecture, such as they had
hitherto understood it. And never probably had the language been more
truly the language of the people at large. For reasons just assigned,
the work of church building and church decoration, and the provision
of vestments and plate, the care of the fabric and the very details
of things necessary for the church services, were in the hands of the
people. The period in question had given rise to the great middle
class, and here, as in Germany, the burgher folk, the merchants and
traders, began literally to lavish their gifts in adornment of their
parish churches, and to vie one with another in the profusion of their
generosity.
It is somewhat difficult for us, as we look upon the generally bare
and unfurnished churches that have been left to us as monuments of
the past about which we are concerned, to realise what they must have
been before what a modern writer has fitly called “the great pillage”
commenced. All, from the great minsters and cathedral churches down
to the poorest little village sanctuary, were in those days simply
overflowing with wealth and objects of beauty which loving hands had
gathered together to adorn God’s house, and to make it the best and
brightest spot in their little world, and so far as their means would
allow the very pride of their hearts. This is no fancy picture. The
inventories of English churches in this period when compared, say,
with those of Italy, reveal the fact that the former were in every
way incomparably better furnished than the latter. The Venetian
traveller in England in 1500 was impressed by this very thing during
his journeyings throughout the country. He notes and comments upon the
great sums of money regularly given to the church as a matter of course
by Englishmen of all sorts. Then after speaking of the important wealth
of the country as evidenced by the silver plate possessed by all but
the poorest in the land, he continues: “But above all are their riches
displayed in the church treasures, for there is not a parish church
in the kingdom so mean as not to possess crucifixes, candlesticks,
censers, patens and cups of silver, nor is there a convent of mendicant
friars so poor as not to have all these same articles in silver,
besides many other ornaments worthy of a cathedral church in the same
metal. Your magnificence may therefore imagine what the decorations
of those enormously rich Benedictine, Carthusian, and Cistercian
monasteries must be.… I have been informed that amongst other things
many of these monasteries possess unicorns’ horns of an extraordinary
size. I have also been told that they have some splendid tombs of
English saints, such as St. Oswald, St. Edmund, and St. Edward, all
kings and martyrs. I saw, one day being with your magnificence, at
Westminster, a place out of London, the tomb of that saint, King Edward
the Confessor, in the church of the foresaid place, Westminster; and
indeed, neither St. Martin of Tours, a church in France, which I have
heard is one of the richest in existence, nor anything else that I have
ever seen, can be put into comparison with it. The magnificence of the
tomb of St. Thomas the Martyr, Archbishop of Canterbury, surpasses all
belief.”
Our present concern, however, is not with the greater churches of
the kingdom, but with the parish churches which were scattered in
such profusion all over the country. An examination of such parochial
accounts as are still preserved affords an insight into the working
of the parish, and evidences the care taken by the people to maintain
and increase the treasures of their churches. What is most remarkable
about the accounts that remain, which are, of course, but the scanty
survivals from the wreck, is their consistent tenor. They one and all
tell the same story of general and intelligent interest taken by the
people as a whole in the beautifying and supporting of their parish
churches. In a very real sense, that seems strange to us now, it was
_their_ church; their life centred in it, and they were intimately
concerned in its working and management. The articles of furniture and
plate, the vestments and hangings had a well-known history, and were
regarded as--what in truth they were--the common property of every
soul in the particular village or district. Such accounts as we are
referring to prove that specific gifts and contributions continued to
flow in an ample stream to the churches from men and women of every
sort and condition up to the very eve of the great religious changes.
From these and similar records we may learn a good deal about parochial
life and interests in the closing period of the old ecclesiastical
system. The church was the common care and business. Its welfare was
the concern of the people at large, and took its natural place in their
daily lives. Was there any building to be done, a new peal of bells to
be procured, the organs to be mended, new plate to be bought, or the
like, it was the parish as a corporate body that decided the matter,
arranged the details, and provided for the payment. At times, say for
example when a new vestment was in question, the whole parish would be
called to sit in council in the church house upon this matter of common
interest, and discuss the cost, and stuff, and make.
To take some examples: the inventory of Cranbrook parish church for
1509 shows that all benefactors were regularly noted down on a roll of
honour, that their gifts might be known and remembered. The presents,
of course, vary greatly in value: thus, there was a monstrance of
silver and gilt of the “value of £20, of Sir Robert Egelonby’s gift;
which Sir Robert was John Roberts’ priest thirty years, and he never
had other service nor benefice; and the said John Roberts was father to
Walter Roberts, Esquire.” And the foresaid Sir Robert gave also to the
common treasury of the parish “two candlesticks of silver and twenty
marks of old nobles.” Again John Hendely “gave three copes of purple
velvet, whereof one was of velvet upon velvet with images broidered,”
and, adds the inventory, “for a perpetual memory of this deed of
goodness to the common purposes of the parish church, his name is to be
read out to the people on festival days.” “He is grandfather of Gervase
Hendely of Cushorn, and of Thomas of Cranbrook Street.” Or once more,
it is recorded that “old mother Hopper” gave the “two long candlesticks
before Our Lady’s altar, fronted with lions, and a towel on the rood of
Our Lady’s chancel.”
So, too, the inventory of the church goods of St. Dunstan’s,
Canterbury, includes a wonderful list of furniture, plate, and
vestments to which the names of the donors are attached. Thus, the best
chalice was the gift of one “Harry Bole”; the two great candlesticks of
laten of John Philpot; and “a kercher for Our Lady and a chapplet and a
powdryd cap for her Son,” the gift of Margery Roper.
The memory of these gifts was kept alive among the people by the
“bede-roll” or list of those for whom the parish was bound to pray
in return for their benefactions to the public good. Thus to take an
example: at Leverton, in the county of Lincoln, the parson, Sir John
Wright, presented the church with a suit of red purple vestments, “for
the which,” says the note in the churchwardens’ accounts, “you shall
all specially pray for the souls of William Wright and Elizabeth his
wife (father and mother of the donor), and for the soul of Sir William
Wright, their son, and for the soul of Sir John, sometime parson of
this place, and for the souls of Richard Wright and Isabel his wife,
John Trowting and Helen his wife, and for all benefactors, as well them
that be alive as them that be departed to the mercy of God, for whose
lives and souls are given here (these vestments) to the honour of God,
His most blessed Mother, Our Lady Saint Mary, and all His Saints in
Heaven, and the blessed matron St. Helen his patron, to be used at such
principal feasts and times as it shall please the curates as long as
they shall last. For all these souls and all Christian souls you shall
say one Paternoster.”[320]
In this way the memory of benefactors and their good deeds was ever
kept alive in the minds of those who benefited by their gifts. The
parish treasury was not to them so much stock, the accumulation
of years, without definite history or purpose; but every article,
vestment, banner, hanging, and chalice, and the rest called for the
affectionate memories of both the living and the dead. On high day
and festival, when the church was decked with all that was best and
richest in the parochial treasury, the display of the parish ornaments
recalled to the mind of the people assembled within its walls the
memory of good deeds done by neighbours for the common good. “The
immense treasures in the churches,” writes Dr. Jessop, “were the joy
and boast of every man and woman and child in England, who day by day
and week by week assembled to worship in the old houses of God which
they and their fathers had built, and whose every vestment and chalice
and candlestick and banner, organs and bells and picture and image
and altar and shrine, they looked upon as their own and part of their
birthright.”[321]
What seems so strange about the facts revealed to us in these church
accounts of bygone times is that, where now we might naturally be
inclined to look for poverty and meanness, there is evidence of the
contrary, so far as the parish church is concerned. Even when the
lives of the parishioners were spent in daily labours to secure the
bare necessities of life, and the village was situated in the most
out-of-the-way part of the country, the sordid surroundings of a hard
life find no counterpart in the parish accounts so far as the church
is concerned, but even under such unfavourable circumstances there
is evidence of a taste for things of art and beauty, and of both the
will and power to procure them. To take some examples: Morebath was
a small uplandish parish of no importance lying within the borders
of Devon, among the hills near the sources of the river Exe. The
population was scanty, and worldly riches evidently not abundant.
Morebath may, consequently, be taken as a fair sample of an obscure
and poor village community. For this hamlet we possess fairly full
accounts for the close of the period under consideration, namely, from
the year 1530. At this time, in this poor place, there were no less
than eight separate accounts kept of money intended for the support of
different altars, or for carrying out definite decorations, such as,
for example, the chapels of St. George and Our Lady, and the guilds
of the young men and maidens of the parish. To the credit of these
various accounts, or “stores,” as they are called, are entered numerous
gifts of money, or articles of value, and even of kind, like cows and
swarms of bees. Most of them are possessed of cattle and sheep, the
proceeds from the rent of which form a considerable portion of their
endowment. The accounts as a whole furnish abundant evidence of active
and intelligent interest in the support and adornment of the parish
church on the part of the people at large. Voluntary rates to clear
off obligations contracted for the benefit of the community, such as
the purchase of bells, the repair of the fabric, or even the making of
roads and bridges, were raised. Collections for Peter’s pence, for the
support of the parish clerk, and for various other church purposes,
are recorded, and the spirit of self-help is evidenced in every line
of these records. In 1528 the vicar gave up his rights to certain wool
tithes in order to purchase a complete set of black vestments, which
were only finished and paid for, at the cost of £6, 5s. 0d., in 1547.
In the year 1538, the parish made a voluntary rate to purchase a new
cope, and the collection for the purpose secured £3, 6s. 8d. When in
1534 the silver chalice was stolen, “ye yong men and maydens of ye
parysshe dru themselffe together, and at ther gyfts and provysyon they
bought in another chalice without any charge of the parysshe.” Sums of
money big and small, specific gifts in kind, the stuff or ornaments
needed for vestments, were apparently always forthcoming when occasion
required. Thus at one time a new cope is suggested, and Anne Tymwell
of Hayne gave the churchwardens her “gown and ring,” Joan Tymwell a
cloak and girdle, and Richard Norman “seven sheep and three shillings
and four pence in money,” towards the expenses. At another time it is
a set of black vestments; at another a chalice; at another a censer;
but whatever it was, the people were evidently ready and desirous
of taking their share in the common work of the parish. In 1529 the
wardens state that Elinor Nicoll gave to the store of St. Sydwell her
wedding-ring--“the which ring,” they add, “did help to make Saint
Sydwell’s shoes.” Then she gave to “the store of Jesus” a little silver
cross, parcel gilt, of the value of 4d. In 1537 there is one item which
deserves to be noted, as it records the arrival of a piece of spoil
from Barlinch Abbey Church, which was dissolved by the king’s orders
the previous year. “Memorandum,” runs the entry, “Hugh Poulett gave to
the church one of the glass windows of the Barlinch, with the iron and
stone and all the price” for setting it up.[322]
To understand the working of the pre-Reformation parish, it is
necessary to enter in detail into some one of the accounts that are
still preserved to us. We may conveniently take those of Leverton in
Lincolnshire, printed in the _Archæologia_, which commence in the year
1492. It is well to note, however, that the same story of self-help and
the same evidence of a spirit of affection for the parish church and
its services, is manifested in every account of this kind we possess.
It must be remembered that it was popular government in a true sense
that then regulated all parochial matters. Every adult of both sexes
had a voice in this system of self-government, and what cannot fail to
strike the student of these records is that, in the management of the
fabric, in the arrangements for the services, and all things necessary
for the due performance of these, diocesan authorities evidently
left to the parish itself a wise discretion. No doubt the higher
ecclesiastical officials could interfere in theory, but in practice
such interference was rare. If the means necessary to carry out repairs
and keep the church in an efficient state, both as to fabric and
ornaments, were apparently never wanting, it must be borne in mind that
it was then regarded as a solemn duty binding on the conscience of each
parishioner to maintain the House of God and the parochial services.
Bishop Hobhouse, from an examination of the churchwardens’ accounts
for some parishes in Somerset, is able to describe the various ways
in which the parochial exchequer was replenished. First, there were
the voluntary rates, called “setts,” and these, though voluntary in
the sense that their imposition depended on the will of the people at
large, when once the parish had declared for the rate, all were bound
to pay. Then the mediæval church authorities cultivated various methods
of eliciting the goodwill of the people, and after prohibiting work
on Sundays and certain festivals, busied themselves with the finding
of amusements. Amongst these were the parish feasts and church ales,
at which collections for various public purposes were made, which,
together with the profits made from such entertainments by those who
managed them for the benefit of the public purse, formed one of the
chief sources of parochial income. Beyond this, the principle of
association was thoroughly understood and carried out in practice in
the village and town communities. People banded themselves together
in religious guilds and societies, the _raison d’être_ of which was
the maintenance of special decorations at special altars, the support
of lamps and lights, or the keeping of obits and festivals. These
societies, moreover, became the centres of organisation of any needed
special collections, and from their funds, or “stores” as they were
called, they contributed to the general expenses of maintaining the
fabric and the services. Popular bounty was, moreover, elicited by
means of the “bede-roll,” or list of public benefactors, for whom
the prayers of the parishioners were asked in the church on great
festivals. On this list of honour, all--even the poorest--were anxious
that their names should appear, and that their memory be kept and their
souls prayed for in the House of God which they had loved in life. Even
more than money, which in those days, especially in out-of-the-way
places, was not over plentiful, the churchwardens’ accounts show that
specific gifts of all kinds, either to be sold for the profit of the
purpose for which they were bestowed, or to form a permanent part of
the church treasury, were common in pre-Reformation times.
Added to these sources of income were the profits of trade carried
on in the “church house.” Besides the church itself, the wardens’
accounts testify to the existence of a church house, if not as a
universal feature in mediæval parish life, at least as a very common
one. It was the parish club-house--the centre of parochial life and
local self-government; the place where the community would assemble
for business and pleasure. It was thus the focus of all the social
life of the parish, and the system was extending in influence and
utility up to the eve of the great religious changes which put an end
to the popular side of parochial life. At Tintinhull, a small village
in Somerset, for example, the accounts help us to trace the growth
of this parish club-house. Beginning as a place for making the altar
bread, it developed into a bakery for the supply of the community. It
then took up the brewing of beer to supply the people and the church
ales and similar parish festivals. This soon grew into the brewing of
beer to supply those who required a supply, and at the same time the
oven and brewing utensils were let out to hire to private persons. In
the reign of Henry VII. a house was bought by the wardens for parish
purposes, and one Agnes Cook was placed in it to manage it for the
common benefit. In 1533 it was in full swing as a parish club-house,
used for business and pleasure.[323] The “ale”--the forerunner of the
wardens’ “charity dinner”--was the ordinary way of raising money to
meet extraordinary expenses; and as an incidental accompaniment came
invitations to other parishes in the neighbourhood, and we find items
charged for the expenses of churchwardens attending at other parochial
feasts, and the sums they there put into the collection plate.
Beyond this, the parish, as a corporate body generally, if not
invariably, possessed property in land and houses, which was
administered by the people’s wardens for the public good. The annual
proceeds lightened the common burdens, as indeed it was intended that
they should. A further source of occasional income was found in the
parish plays which were managed for the common profit. Very frequently
the production was entrusted to some local guild, and the expenses
of mounting were advanced by the parochial authorities, who not
infrequently had amongst the church treasures the dress and other stage
properties necessary for the proper productions. At Tintinhull, in
Somerset, for instance, in 1451, five parishioners got up a Christmas
play for the benefit of the fund required for the erection of the
new rood loft. At Morebath there was an Easter play representing the
Resurrection of our Lord, to defray the expenses incurred by the parish
on some extensive repairs.[324]
With this general notion of the working of pre-Reformation parochial
accounts, we are now in a position to turn by way of a particular
example to those of Leverton. The village is situated about six miles
from Boston. The church, until the neglect of the past three hundred
years had disfigured it, must have been very beautiful when decked with
the furniture and ornaments which the loving care of the people of the
neighbourhood had collected within its walls. When first the accounts
open in 1492, the parish was beginning to be interested, as indeed, by
the way, so many parishes were at this period, in the setting up of
a new peal of bells. The people had evidently made a great effort to
get these, and they contributed most generously. The rector promised
ten shillings and sixpence--which sum, by the way, some one paid for
him--but the whole arrangement for the purchase and hanging of the
bells was in the hands of the churchwardens. The bell chamber was
mended and timber was bought to strengthen the framework. When this
was ready, the great bell was brought over from the neighbouring town,
and money is disbursed for the carriage and the team of horses, not
forgetting a penny for the toll in crossing a bridge. One William
Wright of Benington came over professionally to superintend the hanging
and “trossyng” of this great service bell. We may judge, however, that
it was not altogether satisfactory, for in 1498 the two wardens made
a “move” to “the gathering of the township of Leverton in the kirk,”
in which they collected £4, 13s. 0d., and they forthwith commenced
again the building of a steeple for another set of bells. The stone
was given to them, but they had to see to the work of quarrying it,
and to all the business of collecting material and of building. Trees
in a neighbouring wood were bought, were cut and carried, and sawn
into beams and boards, and poles were selected for scaffolding. Lime
was burnt and sand was dug for the mortar, and tubs were purchased to
mix it in, whilst Wreth, the carpenter, was retained to look after the
building in general, and the timberwork of the new belfry in particular.
This seems to have exhausted the parish exchequer for a year or two,
but in 1503 the two wardens attended at Boston to see their bell
“shot,” and to provide for its transport to Leverton. Here Richard
Messur, the local blacksmith, had prepared the necessary bolts and
locks to fasten it to the swinging beam, and he was in attendance
professionally to see the bell hung, with John Red, the bellmaker of
Boston, who, moreover, remained for a time to teach the parish men how
to ring a peal upon their new bells.
As the sixteenth century progressed, a great deal of building and
repairs was undertaken by the parish authorities. In 1503, a new font
was ordered, and a deputation went to Frieston, about three miles from
Leverton, to inspect and pass the work. The lead for the lining was
procured, and it was cast on the spot. In 1517, repairs on the north
side of the church were undertaken, and these must have been extensive,
judging from the cost of the timber employed to shore up the walls
during the progress of the work. Two years later, on the completion
of these extensive building operations, which had been going on for
some time, the church and churchyard were consecrated at a cost to
the public purse of £3. In 1526, the rood loft was decorated, and the
niches intended for images of the saints, but which had hitherto been
vacant, were filled. One of the parishioners, William Frankish, in that
year left a legacy of 46s. 8d. for the purpose. The wardens hired a
man, called sometimes “the alabaster man,” and sometimes “Robert Brook
the carver,” and in earnest for the seventeen images of alabaster of
the rood loft they gave him a shilling. At the same time a collection
was made for the support of the artist during his stay; some of the
parishioners gave money, but most of them apparently contributed
“cheese” for his use.
So much with regard to the serious building operations which were
continued up to the very eve of the Reformation. They by no means
occupied all the energies of the parish officials. If the books
required binding, a travelling workman was engaged on the job, and
leather, thread, wax, and other necessary materials were purchased for
the work; the binder’s wife was paid extra for stitching, and he was
apparently lodged by one of the townspeople as a contribution to the
common work. Then there were vestments to be procured, and surplices
and other church linen to be made, washed, and marked; the very marks,
by the way, being given in the accounts. So entirely was the whole
regarded as the work of the people, that just as we have seen how the
parish paid for the consecration of their parish church and graveyard,
so did they pay a fee to their own vicar for blessing the altar linen
and the new vestments, and entering the names of benefactors on the
parish bede-roll.[325]
Details such as these, which might be multiplied to any extent,
make it abundantly clear that the church was the centre and soul of
village life in pre-Reformation times, and that up to the very eve of
the religious revolution it had not lost its place in the hearts of
the people. In this connection it is useful to bear in mind, though
somewhat difficult to realise, inasmuch as it is now too foreign to our
modern experience, that in the period about which we are concerned the
“parish” meant the whole community of a well-defined area “organised
for church purposes and subject to church authority.” In such a
district, writes Bishop Hobhouse, “every resident was a parishioner,
and, as such, owed his duty of confession and submission to the
official guidance of a stated pastor. There was no choice allowed.
The community was completely organised with a constitution which
recognised the rights of the whole and of every adult member to a voice
of self-government when assembled for consultation under” their parish
priest.[326] In this way the church was the centre of all parish life,
in a way now almost inconceivable. “From the font to the grave,” says
an authority on village life at this time, “the greater number of the
people lived within the sound of its bells. It provided them with all
the consolations of religion, and linked itself with such amusements as
it did not directly supply.”[327]
The writer of the above words was specially interested in the accounts
of the parish of St. Dunstan in the city of Canterbury, and some few
notes on those accounts founded upon his preface may usefully be added
to what has already been said. The parochial authorities evidently
were possessed of considerable power either by custom or consent over
the inhabitants. In St. Dunstan’s, for example, somewhere about 1485,
there was some disagreement between a man named Baker and the parish,
and an item of 2½d. appears in the accounts as spent on the arbitration
that settled it. Later on, two families fell out, and the vicar and
a jury of four parishioners met in council to put an end to what was
considered a scandal. A parish so managed had necessarily some place
in which the inhabitants of the district could meet, and this in St.
Dunstan’s is called the _church house_, and sometimes the _parish
house_. It is frequently mentioned in the matters of repairs, &c.,
and two dozen trenchers and spoons, the property of the parish, were
placed there for use at the common feasts, and for preparation of food
distributed to the poor. The annual dinner is named in the accounts,
and there is no doubt the young people too had dancing, bowling, and
other games, while “the ancients sat gravely by.”
The money needed for the repairs of the fabric and for parish work
generally was here collected by the various brotherhoods connected
with the church. Some wore “scutchons” or badges to show that they
were authorised to beg. These brotherhoods were possessed of more than
money; malt, wheat, barley, besides parish sheep and parish cows let
out to the highest bidder, are mentioned in the accounts as belonging
to them. One Nicholas Reugge, for example, left four cows to the people
of the parish to free them for ever from the cost of supplying the
“paschal,” or great Easter candle. These four cows were valued by the
churchwardens at 10s. apiece, and were each let at a rent of 2s. a
year. In 1521, one John Richardson rented five-and-twenty of the parish
sheep, and the wardens received rent of lambs, wool, &c. The chief
of the brotherhoods connected with St. Dunstan’s was that named the
“Schaft,” and it had the principal voice in the ultimate management
of parochial affairs. Besides this, however, there were many other
associations, such as that of St. Anne for women and that of St. John
for youths, and various wardens were appointed to collect the money
necessary to keep the various lights, such as St. Anne’s light, St.
John’s light, St. Katherine’s light, and the light of the Holy Rood.
“These things,” writes the editor of these interesting accounts, “all
go to show what life and activity there was in this little parish,
which never wanted willing men to devote their time and influence to
the management of their own affairs.”
The parish was small, numbering perhaps hardly more than 400 souls.
“But if small,” says the same authority, “it was thoroughly efficient,
and the religious and intellectual work was as actively carried on
as the social.” At the close of the reign of Henry VIII. the church
possessed a library of some fifty volumes. Of these about a dozen were
religious plays, part, no doubt, of the Corpus Christi mystery plays,
which were carried out at St. Dunstan’s with undiminished splendour
till the advent of the new ideas in the reign of Edward VI.
These parish accounts prove that many cases of disagreement and
misunderstanding, which in modern times would most likely lead to
long and protracted cases in the Law Courts, were not infrequently
settled by arbitration, or by means of a parish meeting or a jury
of neighbours. Sometimes, undoubtedly, the law had to be invoked
in defence of parochial rights. A case in point is afforded in the
accounts of St. Dunstan’s, Canterbury. Nicholas Reugge, as we have
said above, had left money to purchase four cows as an endowment for
the Paschal candle and the Font taper. Things went well, apparently,
till 1486, when William Belser, who rented the stock, died, and his
executors either could not or would not, or, at any rate, did not pay.
To recover the common property, the churchwardens, as trustees for
the parish, had to commence a suit at law. Chief-Justice Fineux and
Mr. Attorney-General John Roper were two of the parishioners, and the
parish had their advice, it may be presumed gratuitously. The case,
however, seems to have dragged on for five years, as it was finally
settled only in 1491, when the parish scored a pyrrhic victory, for
although they recovered 30s., the value of three of the cows, their
costs had mounted up to 35s. 2d., and as they never could get more than
a third of that amount from the defendants, on the whole they were out
of pocket by their adventure with the law.
For the most part, however, the parish settled its own difficulties in
its own way. Documents preserved almost by chance clearly show that
a vast number of small cases--police cases we should call them--were
in pre-Reformation days arranged by the ecclesiastical authority.
Disputes, brawls, libels, minor immoralities, and the like, which
nowadays would have to be dealt with by the local justices of the peace
or by the magistrates at quarter sessions, or even by the judges at
assizes, were disposed of by the parson and the parish. It may not
have been an ideal system, but it was patriarchal and expeditious. The
Sunday pulpit was used not only for religious instruction, properly
so called, and for the “bedes-bidding,” but for the publication of
an endless variety of notices of common interest. The church was,
as we have said, the centre of popular life, and it was under
these circumstances the natural place for the proclamation of the
commencement of some inquiry into a local suit, or one in which local
people were concerned. It was here, in the house of God, and at the
Sunday service at which all were bound to be present, that witnesses
were cited and accused persons warned of proceedings against them. Here
was made the declaration of the probate of wills of deceased persons,
and warning given to claimants against the estate to come forward
and substantiate their demands. Here, too, were issued proclamations
against such as did not pay their just debts or detained the goods
of others; here those who had been guilty of defamation of character
were ordered to restore the good name of those they had calumniated;
and those who, having been joined in wedlock, had separated without
just and approved cause, were warned of the obligations of Christian
marriage. The transactions of business of this kind in the parish
church by the parish officials made God’s house a practical reality
and God’s law a practical code in the ordinary affairs of life, and
gave religion a living importance in the daily lives of every member of
every parish throughout the country.
CHAPTER XI
PRE-REFORMATION GUILD LIFE
It would be impossible to fully understand the conditions of life on
the eve of the Reformation without some knowledge of the working and
purposes of mediæval guilds. These societies or brotherhoods were so
common, formed such a real bond of union between people of all ranks
and conditions of life, and fulfilled so many useful and even necessary
purposes before their suppression under Edward VI., that a study of
their principles of organisation and of their practical working cannot
but throw considerable light on the popular social life of the period.
To appreciate the position, it is necessary to bear in mind the very
real hold the Gospel principles of the Christian brotherhood had over
the minds of all in pre-Reformation days, the extinction of the general
sense that man did not stand alone being distinctly traceable to the
tendencies in regard to social matters evolved during the period of
turmoil initiated by the religious teachings of the Reformers. What
M. Siméon Luce says about the spirit of common life existing in the
villages of Normandy in the fourteenth century might be adopted as a
picture of English life in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries.
“Nobles, priests, religious clerks, sons of the soil who laboured
at various manual works,” he writes, “lived then, so to say, in
common, and they are found continually together in all their daily
occupations. So far from this community of occupations, this familiar
daily intercourse, being incompatible with the great inequality of
conditions which then existed, in reality it resulted from it. It was
where no strict line of demarcation divided the various classes that
they ordinarily affected to keep at a distance one from the other.”[328]
There can be no doubt as to the nature of the teaching of the English
Church in regard to the relation which, according to true Christian
principles, should exist between all classes of society. In particular
is this seen in all that pertained to the care of the poorer members
of the Christian family. The evidence appears clear and unmistakable
enough in pre-Reformation popular sermons and instructions, in formal
pronouncements of Bishops and Synods, and in books intended for the
particular teaching of clergy and laity in the necessary duties of the
Christian man. Whilst fully recognising as a fact that in the very
nature of things there must ever be the class of those who “have,”
and the class of those who “have not,” our Catholic forefathers in
pre-Reformation days knew no such division and distinction between
the rich man and the poor man as obtained later on, when pauperism,
as distinct from poverty, had come to be recognised as an inevitable
consequence of the new era. To the Christian moralist, and even to the
bulk of Catholic Englishmen, whether secular or lay, in the fifteenth
century, those who had been blessed by God’s providence with worldly
wealth were regarded not so much as the fortunate possessors of
personal riches, their own to do with what they listed, and upon which
none but they had right or claim, as in the light of stewards of God’s
good gifts to mankind at large, for the right use and ministration of
which they were accountable to Him who gave them.
Thus, to take one instance: the proceeds of ecclesiastical benefices
were recognised in the Constitutions of Legates and Archbishops
as being in fact as well as in theory the _eleemosynæ et spes
pauperum_--the alms and the hope of the poor. Those ecclesiastics
who consumed the revenues of their cures on other than necessary and
fitting purposes were declared to be “defrauders of the rights of God’s
poor,” and “thieves of Christian alms intended for them;” whilst the
English canonists and legal professors who glossed these provisions
of the Church law gravely discussed the ways in which the poor of a
parish could vindicate their right to their share in the ecclesiastical
revenues of the Church.
This “_jus pauperum_,” which is set forth in such a text-book of
English Law as Lyndwood’s _Provinciale_, is naturally put forth more
clearly and forcibly in a work intended for popular instruction such
as _Dives et Pauper_. “To them that have the benefices and goods of
Holy Church,” writes the author, “it belonged principally to give alms
and to have the cure of poor people.” To him who squanders the alms
of the altar on luxury and useless show, the poor may justly point
and say: “It is ours that you so spend in pomp and vanity!… That thou
keepest for thyself of the altar passing the honest needful living, it
is raveny, it is theft, it is sacrilege.” From the earliest days of
English Christianity the care of the helpless poor was regarded as an
obligation incumbent on all; and in 1342, Archbishop Stratford, dealing
with _appropriations_, or the assignment of ecclesiastical revenues to
the support of some religious house or college, ordered that a portion
of the tithe should always be set apart for the relief of the poor,
because, as Bishop Stubbs has pointed out, in England, from the days of
King Ethelred, “a third part of the tithe” which belonged to the Church
was the acknowledged birthright of the poorer members of Christ’s flock.
That there was social inequality is as certain as it was inevitable,
for that is in the very constitution of human society. But this, as
M. Luce has pointed out in regard to France, and Professor Janssens
in regard to Germany, in no way detracted from the frank and full
acknowledgment of the Christian brotherhood. Again and again in the
sermons of the fifteenth century this truth, with all its practical
applications, was enforced by the priest at the altar, where both poor
and rich alike met on a common footing--“all, poor and rich, high and
low, noble and simple, have sprung from a common stock and are children
of a common father, Adam:” “God did not create a golden Adam from
whom the nobles are descended, nor a silver Adam from whom have come
the rich, and another, a clay Adam, from whom are the poor; but all,
nobles, rich and poor, have one common father, made out of the dust of
the earth.” These and similar lessons were constantly repeated by the
religious teachers of the pre-Reformation English Church.
Equally definite is the author of the book of popular instruction,
_Dives et Pauper_, above referred to. The sympathy of the writer is
with the poor, as indeed is that of every ecclesiastical writer of the
period. In fact, it is abundantly clear that the Church of England in
Catholic days, as a _pia mater_, was ever ready to open wide her heart
to aid and protect the poorer members of Christ’s mystical body. This
is how _Pauper_ in the tract in question states the true Christian
teaching as to the duties of riches, and impresses upon his readers the
view that the owners of worldly wealth are but stewards of the Lord:
“All that the rich man hath, passing his honest living after the degree
of his dispensation, it is other men’s, not his, and he shall give full
hard reckoning thereof at the day of doom, when God shall say to him,
‘Yield account of your bailywick.’ For rich men and lords in this world
are God’s bailiffs and God’s reeves, to ordain for the poor folk and
to sustain them.” Most strongly does the same writer insist that no
property gives any one the right to say “_this is mine_” and that is
“_thine_,” for property, so far as it is of God, is of the nature of
governance and dispensation, by which those who, by God’s Providence
“have,” act as His stewards and the dispensers of His gifts to such as
“have not.”[329]
It would, of course, be affectation to suggest that poverty and
great hardness of life were not to be found in pre-Reformation days,
but what did not exist was pauperism, which, as distinguished from
poverty, certainly sprung up plentifully amid the ruins of Catholic
institutions, overthrown as a consequence--perhaps as a necessary and
useful consequence--of the religious changes in the sixteenth century.
Bishop Stubbs, speaking of the condition of the poor in the Middle
Ages, declares that “there is very little evidence to show that our
forefathers in the middle ranks of life desired to set any impassable
boundary between class and class.… Even the villein, by learning a
craft, might set his foot on the ladder of promotion. The most certain
way to rise was furnished by education, and by the law of the land,
‘every man or woman, of what state or condition that he be, shall be
free to set their son or daughter to take learning at any school that
pleaseth him within the realm.’” Mr. Thorold Rogers, than whom no one
has ever worked so diligently at the economic history of England, and
whom none can suspect of undue admiration of the Catholic Church,
has also left it on record that during the century and a half which
preceded the era of the Reformation the mass of English labourers
were thriving under their guilds and trade unions, the peasants were
gradually acquiring their lands and becoming small freeholders, the
artisans rising to the position of small contractors and working with
their own hands at structures which their native genius and experience
had planned. In a word, according to this high authority, the last
years of undivided Catholic England formed “the golden age” of the
Englishman who was ready and willing to work.
“In the age which I have attempted to describe,” writes the same
authority, “and in describing which I have accumulated and condensed a
vast amount of unquestionable facts, the rate of production was small,
the conditions of health unsatisfactory, and the duration of life
short. But, on the whole, there were none of those extremes of poverty
and wealth which have excited the astonishment of philanthropists and
are exciting the indignation of workmen. The age, it is true, had
its discontents, and these discontents were expressed forcibly and
in a startling manner. But of poverty which perishes unheeded, of a
willingness to do honest work and a lack of opportunity there was
little or none. The essence of life in England during the days of the
Plantagenets and Tudors was that every one knew his neighbour, and that
every one was his brother’s keeper.”[330]
In regard to the general care of the poorer brethren of a parish in
pre-Reformation England, Bishop Hobhouse, after a careful examination
of the available sources of information, writes as follows: “I can
only suppose that the brotherhood tie was so strongly realised by
the community that the weaker ones were succoured by the stronger,
as out of a family store. The brotherhood tie was, no doubt, very
much stronger then, when the village community was from generation
to generation so unalloyed by anything foreign, when all were knit
together by one faith and one worship and close kindred; but, further
than this, the guild fellowships must have enhanced all the other
bonds in drawing men to share their worldly goods as a common stock.
Covertly, if not overtly, the guildsman bound himself to help his needy
brother in sickness and age, as he expected his fellow-guildsman to do
for him in his turn of need, and these bonds, added to a far stronger
sense of the duty of children towards aged parents than is now found,
did, I conceive, suffice for the relief of the poor, aided only by the
direct almsgiving which flowed from the parsonage house, or in favoured
localities from the doles or broken meat of a monastery.”[331]
To relieve the Reformation from the odious charge that it was
responsible for the poor-laws, many authors have declared that not only
did poverty largely exist before, say, the dissolution of the monastic
houses, but that it would not long have been possible for the ancient
methods of relieving the distressed to cope with the increase in their
numbers under the changed circumstances of the sixteenth century. It is
of course possible to deal with broad assertions only by the production
of a mass of details, which is, under the present circumstances, out
of the question, or by assertions equally broad, and I remark that
there is no evidence of any change of circumstances, so far as such
changes appear in history, which could not have been fully met by the
application of the old principles, and met in a way which would never
have induced the degree of distressing pauperism which, in fact, was
produced by the application of the social principles adopted at the
Reformation. The underlying idea of these latter was property in the
sense of absolute ownership in place of the older and more Christian
idea of property in the sense of stewardship.
Most certainly the result was not calculated to improve the condition
of the poorer members of the community. It was they who were made
to pay, whilst their betters pocketed the price. The well-to-do
classes, in the process, became richer and more prosperous, whilst the
“masses” became, as an old writer has it, “mere stark beggars.” As a
fact, moreover, poverty became rampant, as we should have expected,
immediately upon the great confiscations of land and other property
at the dissolution of the religious houses. To take one example: Dr.
Sharpe’s knowledge of the records of the city of London enables him to
say that “the sudden closing of these institutions caused the streets
to be thronged with the sick and poor.”
“The devil,” exclaims a preacher who lived through all these troublous
times--“the devil cunningly turneth things his own way.” “Examples
of this we have seen in our time more than I can have leisure to
express or to rehearse. In the Acts of Parliament that we have had
made in our days what godly preambles hath gone afore the same; even
_quasi oraculum Apollinis_, as though the things that follow had come
from the counsel of the highest in heaven; and yet the end hath been
either to destroy abbeys or chauntries or colleges, or such like, by
the which some have gotten much land, and have been made men of great
possessions. But many an honest poor man hath been undone by it, and an
innumerable multitude hath perished for default and lack of sustenance.
And this misery hath long continued, and hath not yet (1556) an end.
Moreover, all this commotion and fray was made under pretence of a
common profit and common defence, but in very deed it was for private
and proper lucre.”[332]
In the sixty years that followed the overthrow of the old system, it
was necessary for Parliament to pass no less than twelve acts dealing
with the relief of distress, the necessity for which, Thorold Rogers
says, “can be traced distinctly back to the crimes of rulers and
agents.” I need not characterise the spirit which is manifested in
these acts, where poverty and crime are treated as indistinguishable.
Dr. Jessop writes: “In the general scramble of the _Terror_ under
Henry the Eighth, and of the _anarchy_ in the days of Edward the Sixth
… the monasteries were plundered even to their very pots and pans.
The almshouses, in which old men and women were fed and clothed, were
robbed to the last pound, the poor almsfolk being turned out in the
cold at an hour’s warning to beg their bread. The splendid hospitals
for the sick and needy, sometimes magnificently provided with nurses
and chaplains, whose very _raison d’être_ was that they were to look
after the care of those who were past caring for themselves, these were
stripped of all their belongings, the inmates sent out to hobble into
some convenient dry ditch to lie down and die in, or to crawl into some
barn or house, there to be tended, not without fear of consequences,
by some kindly man or woman, who could not bear to see a suffering
fellow-creature drop down and die at their own doorposts.”[333]
Intimately connected with the subject of the care of the poor in
pre-Reformation days is obviously that of the mediæval guilds which,
more than anything else, tended to foster the idea of the Christian
brotherhood up to the eve of the religious changes.
It would probably be a mistake to suppose that these societies existed
everywhere throughout the country in equal numbers. Mr. Thorold
Rogers, it is true, says--and the opinion of one who has done so much
work in every kind of local record must carry great weight--that “few
parishes were probably without guild lands.” But there is certainly
no distinct evidence that this was the case, especially in counties
say like Hampshire, always sparsely populated as compared with other
districts in the east of England, and where the people largely depended
on agricultural pursuits for a living. It was in the great centres
of trade and manufacture that the guilds were most numerous and most
important, for it was precisely in those parts that the advantages of
mutual help and co-operation outside the parish bond were most apparent
and combination was practically possible.
An examination of the existing records leads to a general division of
mediæval guilds into two classes--_Craft_ or _Trade_ associations, and
_Religious_ or, as some prefer now to call them, _Social_ guilds. The
former, as their name implies, had, as the special object of their
existence, the protection of some work, trade or handicraft, and in
this for practical purposes we may include those associations of
traders or merchants known under the name of “guild-merchants.” Such,
for instance, were the great companies of the city of London, and it
was in reality under the plea that they were trading societies that
they were saved in the general destruction which overtook all similar
fraternities and associations in the sixteenth century. The division
of guilds into the two classes named above is, however, after all more
a matter of convenience than a real distinction founded on fact. All
guilds, no matter for what special purpose they were founded, had the
same general characteristic of brotherly aid and social charity; and
no guild was divorced from the ordinary religious observances commonly
practised by all such bodies in those days.
It is often supposed that, for the most part, what are called
religious guilds existed for the purpose of promoting or encouraging
the religious practices, such as the attendance at church on certain
days, the taking part in ecclesiastical processions, the recitations
of offices and prayers, and the like. Without doubt, there were such
societies in pre-Reformation days--such as, for example, the great
Guild of Corpus Christi, in the city of York, which counted its members
by thousands. But such associations were the exception, not the rule.
An examination of the existing statutes and regulations of ancient
guilds will show how small a proportion these purely _Ecclesiastical_
guilds formed of the whole number of associations known as Religious
guilds. The origin of the mistaken notion is obvious. In mediæval
days--that is, in times when such guilds flourished--the word
“religious” had a wider, and what most people who reflect will be
inclined to think, a truer signification than has obtained in later
times. Religion was then understood to include the exercise of the
two commandments of charity--the love of God and the love of one’s
neighbour--and the exercises of practical charity to which guild
brethren were bound by their guild statutes were considered as much
religious practices as attendance at church or the taking part in an
ecclesiastical procession. In these days, as Mr. Brentano in his essay
_On the History and Development of Guilds_ has pointed out, most of
the objects, to promote which the guilds existed, would now be called
social duties, but they were then regarded as true objects of Christian
charity. Mutual assistance, the aid of the poor, of the helpless, of
the sick, of strangers, of pilgrims and prisoners, the burial of the
dead, even the keeping of schools and schoolmasters, and other such
like works were held to be “exercises of religion.”[334]
If the word “religious” be thought now to give a wrong impression about
the nature of associations, the main object of which was to secure the
performance of duties we should now call “social,” quite as false an
impression would be conveyed by the word “social” as applied to them.
A “social” society would inevitably suggest to many in these days an
association for convivial meetings, and this false notion of the nature
of a mediæval guild would be further strengthened by the fact that in
many, if not most, of them a yearly, and sometimes a more frequent
feast existed under an item in their statutes. This guild feast,
however, was a mere incident in the organisation, and in no case did it
form what we might consider the end or purpose of the association.
By whichever name we call them, and assuming the religious basis
which underlay the whole social life in the fifteenth century, the
character and purpose of these mediæval guilds cannot in reality be
misunderstood. Broadly speaking, they were the benefit societies
and the provident associations of the middle ages. They undertook
towards their members the duties now frequently performed by burial
clubs, by hospitals, by almshouses, and by guardians of the poor.
Not infrequently they acted for the public good of the community in
the mending of roads and the repair of bridges, and for the private
good of their members, in the same way that insurance companies to-day
compensate for loss by fire or accident. The very reason of their
existence was the affording of mutual aid and assistance in meeting
the pecuniary demands which were constantly arising from burials,
legal exactions, penal fines and all other kinds of payments and
compensations. Mr. Toulmin Smith thus defines their object: “The
early English guild was an institution of local self-help which,
before the poor-laws were invented, took the place in old times of the
modern friendly or benefit society, but with a higher aim; while it
joined all classes together in the care of the needy and for objects
of common welfare, it did not neglect the forms and practice of
religion, justice, and morality,”[335] which I may add was, indeed, the
main-spring of their life and action.
“The guild lands,” writes Mr. Thorold Rogers, “were a very important
economical fact in the social condition of early England. The guilds
were the benefit societies of the time from which impoverished members
could be, and were, aided. It was an age in which the keeping of
accounts was common and familiar. Beyond question, the treasurers of
the village guild rendered as accurate an annual statement of their
fraternity as a bailiff did to his lord.… It is quite certain that the
town and country guilds obviated pauperism in the middle ages, assisted
in steadying the price of labour, and formed a permanent centre for
those associations which fulfilled the function that in more recent
times trades unions have striven to satisfy.”[336]
An examination of the various articles of association contained in the
returns made into the Chancery in 1389, and other similar documents,
shows how wide was the field of Christian charity covered by these
“fraternities.” First and foremost amongst these works of religion
must be reckoned the burial of the dead; regulations as to which are
invariably to be found in all the guild statutes. Then, very generally,
provisions for help to the poor, sick, and aged. In some, assistance
was to be given to those who were overtaken by misfortune, whose goods
had been damaged or destroyed by fire or flood, or had been diminished
by loss or robbery; in others, money was found as a loan to such as
needed temporary assistance. In the guild at Ludlow, in Shropshire, for
instance, “any good girl of the guild had a dowry provided for her if
her father was too poor to find one himself.” The “guild-merchant” of
Coventry kept a lodging-house with thirteen beds, “to lodge poor folk
coming through the land on pilgrimage or other work of charity,” with
a keeper of the house and a woman to wash the pilgrims’ feet. A guild
at York found beds and attendance for poor strangers, and the guild of
Holy Cross in Birmingham kept almshouses for the poor in the town. In
Hampshire, the guild of St. John at Winchester, which comprised men and
women of all sorts and conditions, supported a hospital for the poor
and infirm of the city.
The very mass of material at hand makes the task of selecting examples
for illustrating some of the objects for which mediæval guilds existed
somewhat difficult. I take a few such examples at haphazard. The
organisation of these societies was the same as that which has existed
in similar associations up to the time of our modern trades unions. A
meeting was held at which officers were elected and accounts audited;
fines for non-acceptance of office were frequently imposed, as well
as for absence from the common meeting. Often members had to declare
on oath that they would fulfil their voluntary obligations, and would
keep secret the affairs of the society. Persons of ill-repute were not
admitted, and members who disgraced the fraternity were expelled. For
example, the first guild statutes printed by Mr. Toulmin Smith are
those of Garlekhithe, London. They begin: “In worship of God Almighty
our Creator and His Mother Saint Mary, and all Saints, and St. James
the Apostle, a fraternity is begun by good men in the Church of St.
James, at Garlekhith in London, on the day of Saint James, the year of
our Lord 1375, for the amendment of their lives and of their souls, and
to nourish greater love between the brethren and sisters of the said
brotherhood.” Each of them has sworn on the Book to perform the points
underwritten.
“First: all those that are, or shall be, in the said brotherhood
shall be of good life, condition, and behaviour, and shall love God
and Holy Church and their neighbours, as Holy Church commands.” Then,
after various provisions as to meetings and payments to be made to
the general funds, the statutes order that “if any of the foresaid
brethren fall into such distress that he hath nothing, and cannot,
on account of old age or sickness, help himself, if he has been in
the brotherhood seven years, and during that time has performed all
duties, he shall have every week after from the common box fourteen
pence (_i.e._ about £1 a week of our money) for the rest of his life,
unless he recovers from his distress.”[337] In one form or other
this provision for the assistance of needy members is repeated in
the statutes of almost every guild. Some provide for help in case of
distress coming “through any chance, through fire or water, thieves or
sickness, or any other haps.” Some, besides granting this kind of aid,
add: “and if so befall that he be young enough to work, and he fall
into distress, so that he have nothing of his own to help himself with,
then the brethren shall help him, each with a portion as he pleases in
the way of charity.”[338] Others furnish loans from the common fund to
enable brethren to tide over temporary difficulties: “and if the case
falleth that any of the brotherhood have need to borrow a certain sum
of silver, he (can) go to the keepers of the box and take what he hath
need of, so that the sum be not so large that any one may not be helped
as well as another, and that he leave a sufficient pledge, or else
find a sufficient security among the brotherhood.”[339] Some, again,
make the contributions to poor brethren a personal obligation on the
members, such as a farthing a week from each of the brotherhood, unless
the distress has been caused by individual folly or waste. Others
extend their Christian charity to relieve distress beyond the circle
of the brotherhood--that is, of all “whosoever falls into distress,
poverty, lameness, blindness, sent by the grace of God to them, even
if he be a thief proven, he shall have seven pence a week from the
brothers and sisters to assist him in his need.”[340] Some of the
guilds in seaside districts provide for help in case of “loss through
the sea,” and there is little doubt that in mediæval days the great
work carried on by such a body as the Royal Lifeboat Society would
have been considered a work of religion, and the fitting object of a
religious guild.
It would be tedious to multiply examples of the purposes and scope of
the old fraternities, and it is sufficient to repeat that there was
hardly any kind of social service which in some form or other was not
provided for by these voluntary associations. As an illustration of the
working of a trade or craft guild, we may take that of the “Pinners” of
the city of London, the register of which, dating from A.D. 1464, is
now in the British Museum.[341] These are some of the chief articles
approved for the guild by the Mayor and Corporation of the city of
London: (1) No foreigner to be allowed to keep a shop for the sale of
pins. (2) No foreigner to take to the making of pins without undergoing
previous examinations and receiving the approval of the guild officers.
(3) No master to receive another master’s workman. (4) If a servant
or workman who has served his master faithfully fall sick he shall be
kept by the craft. (5) Power to the craft to expel those who do ill and
bring discredit upon it. (6) Work at the craft at nights, on Saturdays,
and on the eves of feasts is strictly prohibited. (7) Sunday closing is
rigidly enforced.
It is curious to find, four hundred years ago, so many of the
principles set down as established, for which in our days trades unions
and similar societies are now contending. It has been remarked above,
that even in the case of craft guilds, such as this Society of Pinners
undoubtedly was, many of the ordinary purposes of the religious guilds
were looked to equally with the more obvious object of protecting the
special trade or handicraft of the specific society. The accounts of
this Pinners’ Guild fully bear out this view. For example: We have
the funeral services for departed brethren, and the usual _trentals_,
or thirty masses, for deceased members. Then we find: “4d. to the wax
chandlers’ man for setting up of our lights at St. James.” One of the
members, William Clarke, borrowed 5s. 10d. from the common chest, to
secure which he placed a gold ring in pledge. There are also numerous
payments for singers at the services held on the feast days of the
guild, and for banners and other hangings for processions.
Of payments for the specific ends of the guild there are, of course,
plenty of examples. For instance: spurious pins and “other ware”
are searched for and burnt by the craft officers, and this at such
distances from London as Salisbury and the fair at Stourbridge, near
Cambridge, the great market for East Anglia and the centre of the
Flanders trade. “William Mitchell is paid 8d. for pins for the sisters,
on Saint James’ day.” In 1466, a man is fined 2s. for setting a child
to work before he had been fully apprenticed; and also another had to
pay 2s. for working after seven o’clock on a winter night. Later on in
the accounts we have a man mulcted for keeping a shop before he was
a “freeman” of the society, and another “for that he sold Flaundres
pynnes for English pynnes.” At another time, a large consignment of no
less than 12,000 “pynnes of ware” were forfeited to the craft, and
sold by them for 8s., which went to the common fund. These accounts
show also the gradual rise in importance and prosperity which the
Pinners’ Guild, under the patronage of St. James, manifested. At
first, the warden and brethren at their yearly visit to Westminster
were content to hire an ordinary barge upon the Thames, but after a
few years they had started “a keverid boote” of their own at the cost
of half-a-crown, in place of the sixpence formerly paid. So, too, in
the early days of their incorporation they had their annual dinner
and audited their accounts at some London tavern--the “Mayremayde in
Bread Street” and “the brew house atte the Sygne of the Rose in Old
Jury” are two of the places named. Later on they met in some hall
belonging to another guild, such as the “Armourers’” Hall, and later
still they built their own Guild Hall and held their banquet there.
This building made a great demand upon their capital, and the officers
evidently began to look more carefully after the exaction of fines.
For late working at this time one of the brethren was mulcted in the
sum of twenty pence; another was fined twopence for coming late to the
guild mass, and several others had to pay for neglecting to attend the
meeting. From the period of starting their own hall, ill-fortune seems
to have attended the society. About the year 1499, they got involved in
a great lawsuit with one Thomas Hill, upon which was expended a large
sum of money. A special whip was made to meet expenses and keep up
the credit of the guild; for what with counsel’s fees, the writing of
bills, and the drawing of pleas, the general fund was unable to find
the necessary munitions of war to continue the suit. To the credit of
the members, most of them apparently responded generously to this call,
and, in consequence of this unfortunate litigation, to many subsequent
demands which the empty exchequer necessitated.
There would be no difficulty whatever in multiplying the foregoing
illustrations of the working of these mediæval societies. The actual
account books of course furnish us with the most accurate knowledge,
even to minute details, and any one of them would afford ample material.
The funds at the disposal of the guilds were derived chiefly from
voluntary subscriptions, entrance fees, gifts, and legacies of members.
Frequently these societies became in process of time the trustees
of lands and houses which they either held and administered for the
purposes of the guilds, or for some specific purpose determined by the
will of the original donor. Thus, to take one or two examples from the
account rolls of the Guild of Tailors in the city of Winchester. In the
time of King Richard II.--say 1392--the usual entrance fee for members
was 3s. 4d., and the annual subscription was 1s. There were 106 members
at that time, seven of whom had been enrolled during the previous year.
Among others who had thus entered was one Thomas Warener, or Warner, a
cousin of Bishop William of Wykeham, and the Bishop’s bailiff of the
Soke; his payment was 4s. 8d. instead of the usual entrance fee. In
the same year we find the names of Thomas Hampton, lord of the manor
of Stoke Charity, and Thomas Marleburgh, who was afterwards Mayor of
Winchester. In the following year, seventeen new members were enrolled,
one of them being a baker of Southampton, called Dunster. Turning over
these accounts, we come upon examples of presents either in kind or
money made to the society. Thus in one place Thomas Marleburgh makes a
present of a hooded garment which was subsequently sold for eighteen
pence; and in another, one Maurice John Cantelaw presented for the
service of the guild, “a chalice and twelve pence in counted money,”
requesting the members “to pray for his good estate, for the souls of
his parents, friends, benefactors, and others for whom he was bound to
pray.” In return for this valuable present, the guild granted that it
should be accounted as Cantelaw’s life-subscription.
Having spoken of the sources of income, which were practically the
same in all guilds, something must be said as to the expenditure
over and above the purposes for which the guilds existed. This may
be illustrated from the accounts of this same fraternity of tailors
of Winchester.[342] In the first place, as in almost every similar
society, provision was made for the funerals of members and for the
usual daily mass for thirty days after the death of the deceased
members. The sum set down is 2s. 6d. for each trental of thirty masses.
Then we find mention of alms to the poor and sick; thus in 1403, the
sum of 36s., about one-tenth of the annual revenue, was spent upon this
object. This, of course, was charity of a general kind, and wholly
unconnected with the assistance given by rule to necessitous members of
the guild.[343]
One expense, very common in these mediæval guilds, was the preparation
for taking a fitting part in the great annual religious pageant or
procession on Corpus Christi day. In the case of this Tailors’ Guild
at Winchester, we find sums of money charged for making wax torches
and ornamenting them with flowers and red and blue wax, with card
shields and parchment streamers, or “pencils,” as they are called. The
members of the guild apparently carried small tapers; but the four
great torches were borne by hired men, who received a shilling each for
their trouble. It is somewhat difficult for us nowadays to understand
the importance attached to these great ecclesiastical pageants by our
ancestors four hundred years or so ago. But as to the fact, there
can be no doubt. Among the documents in the municipal archives of
Winchester there exists an order of the Mayor and Corporation as to
the disposition of this solemn procession in 1435. It runs thus: “At
a convocation holden in the city of Winchester the Friday next after
the Feast of Corpus Christi in the thirteenth year of the reign of King
Harry the Sixth, after the conquest; it was ordained by Richard Salter,
mayor of the city of Winchester, John Symer and Harry Putt, bailiffs of
the city aforesaid, and also by all the citizens and commonalty of the
same city: It is agreed of a certain general procession on the Feast of
Corpus Christi, of divers artificers and crafts within the said city:
that is to say the carpenters and felters shall go together first;
smiths and barbers, second; cooks and butchers, third; shoemakers with
two lights, fourth; tanners and japanners, fifth; plumers and silkmen,
sixth; fishers and farriers, seventh; taverners, eighth; weavers,
with two lights, ninth; fullers, with two lights, tenth; dyers, with
two lights, eleventh; chaundlers and brewers, twelfth; mercers, with
two lights, thirteenth; the wives with one light and John Blake with
another light, fourteenth; and all these lights shall be borne orderly
before the said procession before the priests of the city. And the four
lights of the brethren of St. John’s shall be borne about the Body of
our Lord Jesus Christ, the same day in the procession aforesaid.”
The brethren of St. John’s just named, as the chief object of their
association, kept a hospital for the poor and sick in the city. They
paid a chaplain of their own, as indeed did most of the guilds, and
had a master and matron to look after the comfort of the poor. They
provided bed and bedding, and carefully administered not only their
own subscriptions, but the sums of money freely bequeathed to them
to be spent on charity. At every market held within the precincts of
Winchester an officer, paid by the society, attended and claimed for
the support of the poor a tax of two handfuls of corn from every sack
exposed for sale. The mayor and bailiffs were apparently the official
custodians of this guild, and numerous legacies in wills, even in the
reign of Henry VIII., attest its popularity. For example, on February
19, 1503, John Cornishe, alias Putte, late Mayor of Winchester, died
and left to the guardians his tenements and gardens under the penthouse
in the city for the charity, on condition that for ten years they would
spend 6s. 8d. in keeping his annual obit. In 1520, a draper of London,
named Calley, bequeathed ten shillings to the hospital for annually
repairing and improving the bedding of the poor. The accounts of this
Fraternity of St. John’s Hospital for a considerable period in the
fourteenth century are still in existence. They show large receipts,
sometimes amounting to over £100, from lands, shops, houses, and
from the sale of cattle and farm produce, over and above the annual
subscriptions of members. On the other side, week by week we have the
payments for food provided for the service of the poor: fish, flesh,
beer, and bread are the chief items. One year, for instance, the bread
bought for the sick amounted to 36s. 6d.; beer to 36s. 8d.; meat to
32s. 2d.; fish to 28s. 3½d., &c. Besides this seven shillings were
expended in mustard, and 3s. 6d. for six gallons of oil. This same year
the guardians also paid 2s. 2d. for the clothes and shoes for a young
woman named Sibil “who nursed the poor in the hospital.” The above
represents only the actual money expended over the sick patients, and
from the same source, most minute and curious information might be
added as to the other expenses of the house, including, for instance,
even the purchase of grave-clothes and coffins for the dead poor,
the wages and clothing of the matron and servant, and the payment of
the officer who collected the handfuls of corn in the market-place.
At times we have evidence of the arrival and care of strange poor
people--we should perhaps call them “tramps” in our day. For instance,
here is one heading: “The expenses of three poor strangers in the
hospital for 21 days and nights, 15¾d.; to each of whom is given ¾d.
_Item_: the expenses of one other for 5 days, 3¾d. _Item_: the expenses
of the burial of the said sick person, 3d. _Item_: the expenses of four
pilgrims lodged for a night, 2d. _Item_: new straw to stuff the beds of
the sick, 8d. _Item_: paid to the laundress for washing the clothes of
the sick during one year, 12d.”
To speak of guilds without making any mention of the feasts--the social
meetings--which are invariably associated with such societies, would be
impossible. The great banquets of the city companies are proverbial,
and, in origin at least, they arose out of the guild meeting for the
election of officers, followed by the guild feast. As a rule, these
meetings took place on the day on which the Church celebrated the
memory of the Saint who had been chosen as patron of the society, and
were probably much like the club dinners which are still cherished
features of village life in many parts of England.[344]
It has been said that the wardens of guilds were frequently named in
mediæval wills as trustees of money for various charitable purposes.
As an example of property thus left to a guild, take the Candlemas
Guild, established at Bury St. Edmunds: the society was established
in the year 1471, and a few years later one of the members made over
to the brethren considerable property for the common purposes of the
guild and other specified objects. His name was John Smith, a merchant
of Bury, and he died, we are told, on “St. Peter’s even at Midsummer,
1481.” His will, which is witnessed by the Abbot and Prior of St.
Edmund’s Abbey, provides, in the first place, for the keeping of an
obit “devoutly.” The residue of the income was to accumulate till
the appointment of each new abbot, when, on the election, the entire
amount was to be paid over to the elect in place of the sum of money
the town was bound to pay on every such occasion. Whatever remained
over and above this was to be devoted to the payments of any tenth,
fifteenth, or other tax, imposed upon the citizens by royal authority.
This revenue was to be administered by the guardians of the guild, who
were bound at the yearly meeting at Candlemas to render an account of
their stewardship. Year by year John Smith’s will was read out at the
meeting, and proclamation was made before the anniversary of his death
in the following manner: “Let us all of charity pray for the soul of
John. We put you in remembrance that you shall not miss the keeping of
his _Dirge_ and also of his Mass.” Round about the town the crier was
sent to recite the following lines:--
“We put you in remembrance all that the oath have made,
To come to the Mass and the _Dirge_ the souls for to glade:
All the inhabitants of this town are bound to do the same,
To pray for the souls of John and Anne, else they be to blame:
The which John afore-rehearsed to this town hath been full kind,
Three hundred marks for this town hath paid, no penny unpaid behind.
Now we have informed you of John Smith’s will in writing as it is,
And for the great gifts that he hath given, God bring his soul to
bliss. Amen.”[345]
The example set by this donor to the Candlemas Guild at Bury was
followed by many others in the later part of the fifteenth century. For
instance, a “gentlewoman,” as she calls herself, one Margaret Odom,
after providing by will for the usual obit and for a lamp to burn
before “the holie sacrament in St. James’s Church,” desires that the
brethren of the guild shall devote the residue of the income arising
from certain houses and lands she has conveyed to their keeping, to
paying a priest to “say mass in the chapel of the gaol before the
prisoners there, and giving them holy water and holy bread on all
Sundays, and to give to the prisoners of the long ward of the said gaol
every week seven faggots of wood from Hallowmass (November 1) to Easter
Day.”[346]
Intimately connected with the subject of the guilds is that of the
fairs, which formed so great a feature in mediæval commercial life,
and at which the craft guilds were represented. For the south of
England, the great fair held annually at Winchester became the centre
of our national commerce with France. The following account of it is
given in Mr. W. J. Ashley’s most interesting _Introduction to English
Economic History_: “A fair for three days on the eastern hill outside
Winchester was granted to the bishop by William II.; his immediate
successors granted extension of time, until by a charter of Henry II.
it was fixed at sixteen days, from 31st August to 15th September. On
the morning of 31st August ‘the justiciars of the pavilion of the
bishop’ proclaimed the fair on the hilltop, then rode on horseback
through the city proclaiming the opening of the fair. The keys of
the city and the weighing machine in the wool market were taken
possession of, and a special mayor and special bailiffs were appointed
to supersede the city officials during the fair time. The hilltop was
quickly covered with streets of wooden shops: in one, the merchants
from Flanders; in another, those of Caen or some other Norman town; in
another, the merchants from Bristol. Here were placed the goldsmiths in
a row, and there the drapers, &c., whilst around the whole was a wooden
palisade with guarded entrance, a precaution which did not always
prevent enterprising adventurers from escaping payment of the toll by
digging a way in for themselves under the wall.… In Winchester all
trade was compulsorily suspended, and within ‘a seven league circuit,’
guards being stationed at outlying posts, on bridges and other places
of passage, to see that the monopoly was not infringed. At Southampton
nothing was to be sold during the fair time but victuals, and even
the very craftsmen of Winchester were bound to transfer themselves
to the hill and there carry on their occupations during the fair.
There was a graduated scale of tolls and duties: all merchants of
London, Winchester, or Wallingford who entered during the first week
were free from entrance tolls.… In every fair there was a _court of
pie-powder_ (of dusty feet) in which was decided by merchant law all
cases of dispute that might arise, the ordinary jurisdiction being
for a time suspended in the town; at Winchester this was called the
Pavilion Court. Hither the bishop’s servants brought all the weights
and measures to be tested; here the justices determined on an assize,
or fixed scale, for bread, wine, beer, and other victuals, adjudging
to the pillory any baker whose bread was found to be of defective
weight; and here every day disputes between merchants as to debts were
decided by juries upon production and comparison of the notched wooden
tallies.”[347]
A few words must be said about the final destruction of the English
guilds. At the close of the reign of Henry VIII. an act of Parliament
was passed vesting the property of colleges, chantries, fraternities,
brotherhoods and guilds in the Crown (38 Hen. VIII., c. 4). The king
was empowered to send out his commissioners to take possession of all
such property, on the plea that it might be “used and exercised to
more godly and virtuous purposes.” Henry died before the provisions of
the act could be complied with, and a second act was passed through
the first Parliament in the reign of Edward VI. (1 Ed. VI., c. 14).
This went beyond the former decree of destruction, for after providing
for the demolition of colleges, free chapels, and chantries, it
proceeded not only separately by name to grant to the king all sums of
money devoted “by any manner of corporations, guilds, fraternities,
companies or fellowships or mysteries or crafts,” to the support of a
priest, obits or lights (which may be taken under colour of religion),
but to hand over to the crown “all fraternities, brotherhoods and
guilds, being within the realm of England and Wales and other the
king’s dominions, and all manors, lands, tenements, and other
hereditaments belonging to them, other than such corporations, guilds,
fraternities, &c., and the manors, lands, &c., pertaining to the said
corporations, &c., above mentioned.”
The Parliament of Henry VIII. assigned as a reason for this seizure of
the property of the corporate bodies the need “for the maintenance of
these present wars,” and cleverly put into one group “colleges, free
chapels, chantries, hospitals, fraternities, brotherhoods, and guilds.”
“The act of Edward VI.,” writes Mr. Toulmin Smith, “was still more
ingenious, for it held up the dogma of purgatory to abhorrence, and
began to hint at grammar schools. The object of both acts was the same.
All the possessions of all the guilds (except what could creep out as
being mere trading guilds, which saved the London guilds) became vested
by these two acts in the Crown; and the unprincipled courtiers who had
advised and helped the scheme gorged themselves out of this wholesale
plunder of what was, in every sense, public property.”[348]
It is clear that in seizing the property of the guilds the Crown
destroyed far more than it gained for itself. A very large proportion
of their revenues was derived from the entrance fees and the annual
subscriptions of the existing members, and in putting an end to these
societies the State swept away the organisation by which these
voluntary subscriptions were raised, and this not in one or two places,
but all over England. In this way far more harm was in reality done to
the interests of the poor, sick, and aged, and, indeed, to the body
politic at large, than the mere seizure of their comparatively little
capital, whether in land or money.
It is not, of course, meant to imply that the injury to the poor and
sick was not fully recognised at the time of these legal confiscations.
People deeply resented the idea that what generations of benefactors
had intended for the relief of distress should thus be made to pass
into the pocket of some “new” man who had grown great upon the spoils.
The literature of the period affords abundant evidence of the popular
feeling. Crowley, for instance, wrote about 1550--just at this very
time--and although no one would look for any accurate description of
facts in his rhyming satires, he may be taken as a reliable witness as
to what the people were saying. This is what he writes on the point:--
“A merchant, that long time
Had been in strange lands
Returned to his country,
Which in Europe stands.
And in his return
His way lay to pass
By a spittle house not far from
Where his dwelling-house was.
He looked for this hospital,
But none could he see,
For a lordly house was built
Where the hospital should be.
‘Good Lord!’ (said the merchant),
‘Is my country so wealthy
That the very beggars’ houses
Are built so gorgeously?’
Then by the wayside
Him chanced to see
A poor man that craved
Of him for charity.
‘Why’ (quoth the merchant),
‘What meaneth this thing?
Do ye beg by the way,
And have a house for a king?’
‘Alas! sir’ (quoth the poor man),
‘We are all turned out,
And lie and die in corners
Here and there about.’”
It has frequently been asserted that although grave injury was
undoubtedly done to the poor of the land by this wholesale
confiscation, it was done unwittingly by the authorities, or that, at
the worst, the portions of revenue derived from the property which had
been intended for the support of the sick, aged, &c., was so bound up
with those to which religious obligations (now declared superstitious
and illegal) were attached, that it was impossible to distinguish the
latter from the former, and all perished together, or rather passed
undistinguished into the royal pocket. Such a view is not borne
out by facts, and however satisfactory it might be to believe that
this robbery of the poor and sick by the Crown was accidental and
unpremeditated, the historian is bound by the evidence to hold that the
pillage was fully premeditated and deliberately and consciously carried
out. It is of course obvious, that some may regard it as proper that
funds given for the support of priests to say masses or offer prayers
for the souls of the departed should have been confiscated, although
it would have been better had the money been devoted to some purpose
of local utility rather than that it should have been added to the
Crown revenues or have gone to enrich some royal favourite. For example
it may, for the sake of argument, be admitted that the two fields at
Petersfield in Hampshire thus taken by the royal commissioners--one
called _White field_, in the tenure of Gregory Hill, the rent of which
was intended to keep a perpetual light burning in the parish church,
and the other held by John Mill, given to support a priest “called
the Morrow Masse priest” (_i.e._ the priest employed to say the early
morning mass for the convenience of people going to work)--were under
the circumstances fair articles of plunder for the royal officials,
when the mass was prohibited and the doctrine symbolised by the
perpetual light declared superstitious. But this will not apply to the
money intended for the poor. It might have been easy to justify the
Crown’s action in taking the priest’s portion, and even the little
pittance intended for the serving clerk, but the seizure of the
benefactions to the poor cannot be defended. It was not accidental;
for an examination of the original documents relating to the guilds
and chantries now in the Record Office will show not only that the
Royal Commissioners were as a rule careful to distinguish between
the portions intended for religious purposes and those set aside
for perpetual charity to the sick and poor, but in many cases they
actually proposed to the Court of Augmentation to protect the latter
and preserve them for the objects of Christian charity intended by the
original donors. In every such case the document reveals the fact that
this suggestion in the interest of common justice was rejected by the
ultimate Crown officials, and a plain intimation is afforded on the
face of the documents that even those sums intended by the original
donors for the relief of poverty were to be confiscated.
The destruction of the guilds is, from any point of view, a sad and
humiliating story, and, perhaps fortunately, history has so far
permitted the thick veil of obscurity drawn over the subject at the
time to remain practically undisturbed. A consideration of the scope
and purposes of English mediæval guilds cannot but raise our opinion
of the wisdom of our forefathers who fostered their growth, and
convince us that many and useful ends were served by these voluntary
societies. This opinion we can hold, wholly apart from any views we may
entertain about the religious aspects of these societies generally.
Socialistic they were, but their socialism, so far from being adverse
to religion, as the socialism of to-day is generally considered to be,
was transfused and directed by a deeply religious spirit, carried out
into the duties of life, and manifesting itself in practical charities
of every kind.
One or two points suggested by consideration of the working of mediæval
guilds may be emphasized. The system of these voluntary societies
would be, of course, altogether impossible and out of place in this
modern world of ours. They would not, and could not, meet the wants
and needs of these days; and yet their working is quite worth studying
by those who are interested in the social problems which nowadays are
thrusting themselves upon the public notice and demanding a solution.
The general lessons taught by these voluntary associations may be
summed up under one or two heads suggested by Mr. Ashley’s volume
already referred to: (1) It is obvious that, unlike what we find to-day
in the commercial enterprises of the world, capital played but a very
small part in the handicrafts of those times; skill, perseverance, and
connection were more important. (2) The middle ages had no knowledge
of any class of what may be called permanent wage-labourers. There
was no working-class in our modern sense: if by that is meant a class
the greater portion of which never rises. In the fourteenth century,
a few years of steady work as a journeyman meant, in most cases, that
a workman was able to set up as a master craftsman. Every hardworking
apprentice expected as a matter of course to be able to become in time
a master. The collisions between capital and labour to which we are
so much accustomed had no place in the middle ages. (3) There was no
such gulf between master and man as exists in our days. The master and
his journeyman worked together side by side, in the same shop, at the
same work, and the man could earn fully half as much as his master.
(4) If we desire to institute a comparison between the status of the
working-classes in the fourteenth century and to-day, the comparison
must be between the workman we know and the old master craftsman. The
shop-keeping class and the middle-man were only just beginning to
exist. The consumer and producer stood in close relation, and public
control was exercised fully, as the craft guilds were subject to the
supervision and direction of the municipal or central authority of the
cities in which they existed.
CHAPTER XII
MEDIÆVAL WILLS, CHANTRIES, AND OBITS
The value of side-lights in an historical picture is frequently
overlooked, or not duly appreciated. The main facts of a story may
be presented with accuracy and detail, and yet the result may be as
unlike the reality as the fleshless skeleton is to the living man.
More especially are these side-lights requisite when the object of the
inquirer is to ascertain the tone and temper of minds at some given
time, and to discover what men, under given circumstances, were doing
and thinking about. In trying, therefore, to gauge the mental attitude
of Englishmen towards the ecclesiastical system existing on the eve
of the Reformation, it is important not to neglect any faint glimmer
of light which may be reflected from the records of the past, the
brightness of which in its setting has been obscured only too well by
the dark storm-clouds of controversy and prejudice.
Not the least valuable among what may be described as the minor
sources of information about the real feeling of the people generally
towards their religion on the eve of the Reformation are the wills, of
which we have abundant examples in the period in question. It may, of
course, appear to some that their spirit was in great measure dictated
by what they now hold to be the erroneous opinions then in vogue as
to Purgatory and the efficacy of prayer for the dead. That these
doctrines of the Church had a firm hold on the minds and hearts of the
people at large is certain. The evidence that this was so is simply
overwhelming, and it may be taken to prove, not merely the existence
of the teaching, but the cordial and unhesitating way in which it was
accepted as a necessary part of the Christian faith. But this, after
all, is merely a minor point of interest in the wills of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries. What clearly appears in these documents,
however, is the Catholic tone which pervades them, and enables the
reader to realise perhaps more than he is able to do from any other
class of document, the strong hold their religion must have had on the
love and intelligence of the people of those days. The intelligences
may not, indeed, have been of any very high order, but the souls were
certainly penetrated by true Christian ideals. To those who penned
those early wills, Faith was clearly no mere intellectual apprehension
of speculative truth. Religion, and religious observance, was to them
a practical reality which entered into their daily lives. The kindly
Spirit that led them, brought them strength to bear their own and
others’ burdens, in sickness and health, in adversity and prosperity,
from childhood till their eyes closed in their last sleep. If we may
judge from these last aspirations of the Christian soul as displayed
in mediæval wills, we must allow that religion was very real indeed to
our English forefathers in the sixteenth century, and that in reality
the whole social order was founded upon a true appreciation of the
Christian brotherhood in man, and upon the doctrine of the efficacy of
good works for salvation. These truths of the social order were not
indeed taught perhaps scientifically, and we might look in vain for any
technical expression of them in the books of religious instruction
most used during this period, but they formed none the less part of the
traditional Christian teaching of the Middle Ages founded on the great
principles of the Bible which then dominated popular thought.[349]
Those who would understand what this Christian spirit meant and the
many ways in which it manifested itself, need only compare the wills of
the late fifteenth and the early sixteenth centuries with those, say,
of the later years of Queen Elizabeth, when the religious revolution
had been accomplished, and note the obvious difference in tone and
purpose. The comparison need not be searching or entail much study; the
change is patent and striking, and lies on the very surface.
Some examples of notes taken from pre-Reformation wills may be here
given from the collection of Northern wills published by the Surtees
Society under the title _Testamenta Eboracensia_, the fourth volume of
which contains many wills made during the period in question. It may be
useful to remark that one and all of these documents manifest the same
spirit of practical Christianity, though of course in various degrees.
Most of them contain bequests to churches with which the donors were
chiefly connected; money is frequently left to the fabric, or to some
special altar, or for the purchase of vestments, or to furnish some
light to burn before the Blessed Sacrament, the rood or some image, to
which the deceased had a particular devotion. Specific gifts of silks,
rich articles of clothing and embroidered hangings fitted to adorn
the Church of God, to make chasubles and copes, or altar curtains and
frontals, are common. Practical sympathy with the poor is manifested by
provision for distributions of doles at funerals and at anniversaries,
and by gifts of cloaks and other articles of clothing, to those of
the parish who were engaged in carrying torches at the burial, or had
promised to offer up prayers for the soul of the testator. Besides
these general features of interest, the wills in question show us
that building operations of great magnitude were being carried on at
this time in the parish churches of the North, and they thus furnish
an additional proof of the very remarkable interest thus taken by the
people at large in the rebuilding and adornment of the parish churches
of England right up to the very overthrow of the old ecclesiastical
system. These particular wills also bear a singular testimony to the
kindly feelings which existed at this time between the general body of
the clergy and the regular orders. Nearly every will of any cleric of
note contains bequests of money to monks, nuns, and friars, whilst, in
particular, those of the canons and officials of the great metropolitan
church of York bear testimony to the affection and esteem in which they
held the Abbot and monks of St. Mary’s Abbey in the same city, which
from its close proximity to the minster might in these days have been
regarded as its rival.
As an illustration of the religious spirit which pervades these
documents, we may take the following preface to the will of one John
Dalton of Hull, made in 1487. “In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus
Sancti. Amen. I, John Dalton of the Kingstown upon Hull--considering
and remembering, think in my heart that the days of man in this mortal
life are but short, that the hour of death is in the hand of Almighty
God, and that He hath ordained the terms that no man may pass. I
remember also that God hath ordained man to die, and that there is
nothing more uncertain than the hour of death. I seeing princes and
(men of) great estates die daily, and men of all ages end their days,
and that death gives no certain respite to any living creature, but
takes them suddenly. For these considerations, I, being in my right
wit and mind, loved be God, whole not sick, beseech Almighty God that
I may die the true son of Holy Church and of heart truly confessed,
with contrition and repentance, of all my sins that ever I did since
the first hour I was born of my mother into this sinful world, to the
hour of my death. Of these offences I ask and beseech Almighty God
pardon and forgiveness; and in this I beseech the Blessed Virgin Mary
and her blessed Son Jesu, our Saviour, that suffered pain and passion
for me and all sinful creatures, and all the holy company of Paradise
to pray for me.… For these causes aforesaid, I, being alive of whole
mind and memory, loved be God, dispose and ordain such goods as God
hath lent me movable and immovable by my testament, and ordain this my
last will in the form and manner that followeth: First, I recommend in
humble devotion, contrition, and true repentance of my faults and sins,
praying and craving mercy of our Saviour Jesus Christ … my soul to our
Lord Jesus Christ when it shall depart from my body, and to our Lady
St. Mary, Saint Michael, St. John the Baptist, St. John the Evangelist,
St. Katherine and St. Barbara, and to all the whole company and saints
of heaven: and my body I will to the earth whereof it came.”
The testator then proceeds to direct that his executors shall give
his wife a third of his property, and his children another third. The
rest he wishes to be bestowed in charity as they may think best “to
the pleasure of God and the health of my soul” … “as they shall answer
before God at the dreadful day of doom. (Especially) I will them to pay
my debts, charging them before God to discharge me and my soul; and in
this let them do for me as they would I did for them, as I trust they
will do.”[350]
Of much the same character is the briefer Latin preface to the will
of a sub-dean of York in 1490. “I protest before God Almighty, the
Blessed Mary, and all saints, and I expressly proclaim that, no matter
what infirmity of mental weakness may happen to me in this or any
other sickness, it is not my intention in anything to swerve from the
Catholic faith. On the contrary I firmly and faithly believe all the
articles of faith, all the sacraments of the Church; and that the
Church with its sacraments is sufficient for the salvation of any one
however guilty.”[351]
To take one more example of the same spirit, Thomas Dalton, merchant of
Hull--probably son of the John Dalton whose will is quoted above--died
in 1497. After charging his wife, whom he leaves his executrix, to
pay all his debts, he adds: “And I will and give my mother forty
shillings, beseeching her meekly to pray for me and to give me her
daily blessing, and that she will forgive me all trespasses and faults
done by me to her since I was born of her, as she will be forgiven
before God at the great day of judgment.”[352]
Much the same spirit evidently dictated the following clause in the
will of John Sothill of Dewsbury, 1502: “Also I pray Thomas my son, in
my name and for the love of God, that he never strive with his mother,
as he will have my blessing, for he will find her courteous to deal
with.”[353]
Other examples of the catholicity of these mediæval wills may be here
added as they are taken from the volume almost at haphazard. In 1487,
a late mayor of the city of York leaves money to help in the repairs
of many churches of the city and its neighbourhood. He charges his
executors to provide for the maintenance of lamps and lights in several
places, and specially names a gold ring with a diamond in it, which
he desires may be hung round the neck of Our Lady’s statue in York
Minster, and another with a turquoise “round our Lord’s neck that is
in the arms of the said image of Our Lady.” After making provision
for several series of masses to be said, as for example one of thirty
in honour of the Holy Trinity, another in honour of the Holy Cross,
a third in that of Our Lady, &c., the testator bequeaths a large sum
of money to dower fifteen poor girls, and to find fifty complete
sets of beds and bedding for the poor, as well as other extensive
charities.[354]
Thomas Wood, a draper of Hull, was sheriff in 1479 and died in 1490. By
will he left to his parish church a piece of worked tapestry, and the
clause by which the bequest was conveyed shows that the church already
possessed many costly hangings of this kind. It runs thus: “To the
Trinity Church one of my best beds of Arras work, upon condition that
after my decease the said bed shall yearly cover my grave at my _Dirge_
and Mass, done in the said Trinity Church with note (in singing) for
ever more. Also I will that the said bed be yearly hung in the said
church on the feast of St. George the Martyr among other worshipful
beds, and when the said bed be taken down and delivered, then I will
that the same bed be re-delivered into the vestry and there to remain
with my cope of gold.”[355]
The same kind of gift appears in the last testament of William
Rowkshaw, Rector of Lowthorpe, in 1504. “I leave,” he says, “to the
Church of Catton a bed-covering worked with great figures to lie
in front of the High Altar on the chief feasts. And I leave also a
bed-covering (worked) with the image of a lion (a blue lion was the
family arms) to place in front of the altar in the parish church of
Lowthorpe on the chief feasts.” Also in the will of William Graystoke
of Wakefield, executed in 1508, there is made a gift to the parish
church of “a cloth of arras work sometime hanging in the Hall.”[356]
Poor scholars at the universities were not forgotten in the wills of
the period. Mr. Martin Collins, Treasurer of York, for instance, in
1508 charges his executors to pay for a scholar at either Oxford or
Cambridge for seven years to study canon law, or the arts. The only
condition is that they are to choose him from the “poor and very
needy, and even from the poorest and most necessitous.”[357] So, too,
William Copley in 1489 leaves money to support two poor priests for
the purpose of study at Cambridge. Archbishop Rotheram in his long and
most Christian will, executed in June 1500, makes provision for the
education of youth. He founds a college in the place of his birth--the
College of Jesus at Rotheram--in thanksgiving for God’s providence in
securing his own education. “For,” he says, “there came to Rotheram,
I don’t know by what chance, but I believe by the special grace of
God, a teacher of grammar, who taught me and other youths, and by
whose means I and others with me rose in life. Wherefore desirous of
returning thanks to our Saviour, and to proclaim the reason, and lest I
might seem ungrateful and forgetful of God’s benefits and from whence
I have come, I have determined first of all to establish there for
ever a grammar master to teach all gratuitously. And because I have
seen chantry priests boarding with lay people, one in one place one in
another, to their own scandal and in some places ruin, I have desired,
in the second place, to make them a common dwelling-house. For these
reasons I have commenced to build the college of Jesus, where the head
shall teach grammar and the others may board and sleep.” Moreover,
as he has seen, he says, many unlettered and country folk from the
hills (_rudi et montam_) attracted to church by the very beauty of
ceremonial, he establishes at Rotheram a choir-master and six singing
boys to add to the attraction of the services, and for such of these
boys, who may not want to become priests, he endows a master to teach
them the art of writing and arithmetic.[358]
A merchant of Holme, one John Barton, after leaving legacies to his
parish church, charges his executors to pay the king’s taxes for all
people of the town assessed at 4d. and under, for two years after his
death. John Barton was a merchant of the staple, and had made his
wealth by the wool trade. At Holme he built “a fair stone house and a
fair chapel like a parish church,” and to remind his descendants of the
source whence their means had come, and in humble acknowledgment of
God’s goodness to him, he set in the windows of his home the following
posie--
“I thank God, and ever shall,
It is the sheep hath payed for all.”[359]
As an example of specific bequests for pious purposes, we may take the
following: Sir Gervase Clifton in 1491 gives many sums of money to
churches in Yorkshire and to various chantries in Southwell Minster.
For the use of these latter also, he directs that “all the altar cloths
of silk, a bed of gold bawdkyne and another bed of russet satin,
which belonged to (Archbishop Boothe of York) be delivered to make
vestments.”[360] In 1493-4, John Vavasour, Justice of the Common Pleas,
leaves £100 in money to the monastery of Ellerton, to which he says he
had previously given all his vestments. He names the Priors of Ellerton
and Thorneholme his executors, and tells them that the Prior of the
Charterhouse of Axholme has £800 of his in his keeping, and also that a
chest of his plate is in charge of the London Carthusians.[361]
Again Agnes Hildyard of Beverley, in 1497-8, leaves “an old gold
noble to hang round the neck of the image of Our Lady in the church
of Beverley,” some money to purchase a mantle for the statue of the
Blessed Virgin at Fisholme, and another gold piece for the statue at
Molescroft.[362] About the same time Lady Scrope of Harling left “to
the Rood of Northdor my heart of gold with a diamond in the midst. To
Our Lady of Walsingham, ten of my great gold beads joined with silk
of crimson and gold, with a button of gold, tasselled with the same.…
To Our Lady of Pew ten of the same beads; to St. Edmund of Bury ten
of the same; to St. Thomas of Canterbury, ten of the same; to my Lord
Cardinal, ten aves with two _Paternosters_ of the same beads; to Thomas
Fynchman ten aves and two _Paternosters_ of the same beads.”[363]
Again, in 1502, Elizabeth Swinburne bequeathed to the Carmelites of
Newcastle a piece of silver to make a crown for the image of Our
Lady at her altar “where my mother is buried,” and to Mount Grace a
rosary, “fifty beads of gold, a hundred of corall, with all the gaudys
of gold,” on condition that she and her mother might be considered
_consorores_ of the house, and that thirteen poor people might be fed
on the day of her burial.[364] So, too, a chain of gold is left to
make a cup for the Blessed Sacrament, velvet and silk dresses to make
vestments,[365] plate to make a new chrismatory, crystal beads to adorn
the monstrance used on Corpus feast day.[366]
William Sheffield, Dean of York, whose will is dated 1496, after some
few bequests to friends, leaves the residue to the poor, and he thus
explains the reason: “Also I will that the residue of my goods be
distributed among the poor parishioners in each of the benefices I have
held, according to the discretion of my executors, so that they may
be bestowed more or less in proportion to the time of my living and
keeping hospitality in them; for the goods of the church are the riches
of the poor, and so the distribution of church goods is a serious
matter of conscience, and on those badly disposing of them Jesus have
mercy.”[367]
The Vicar of Wighill, William Burton, in 1498-9, left a sum of money to
remain in the hands of his successors for ever “to ease poor folk of
the parish, for to pay their farms with, so that the said people set
not their goods at wainworth (_i.e._ cartloads--what they would fetch),
and that they have a reasonable day to pay the said silver again duly
and truly to the Vicar for the time being, and the said Vicar to ask
and keep eyes (aye) to the same intent, as he will answer for it at
the dreadful day of judgment betwixt God and the devil; and he shall
not lend the foresaid money for any tax or tallage, nor for any common
purpose of the town, but only to the said poor men.” With kindly
thought for the young among his old flock, the Vicar adds a bequest of
4d. “to every house poor and rich among the children.”[368]
The above is not by any means an isolated instance of a sum, or sums,
of money being left to assist the poorer members of the Christian
brotherhood, represented by the parish, with temporary loans. One
document sets out the working of such a common parish chest under
the supervision of the priest. The original chest and the necessary
funds for starting this work of benevolence were furnished by one of
the parishioners. In order to maintain “this most pious object,”
as it is called, the rector undertakes to read out the name of the
original donor at the “bedes-bidding” on principal feasts, together
with those of all who may subsequently add to the capital sum by alms
or legacies, in order that people might be reminded of their duty to
offer up prayers for the eternal welfare of their benefactors. The
chest was to have three locks, the keys being kept by the rector and
the two wardens. Those who might need to borrow temporarily from the
common stock to meet their rent, purchase of seed or stock, or for any
other purpose, were to bring pledges to the full value of the loan,
or else to find known sureties for the amount. No single person was
to be surety for more than six shillings and eightpence, and for wise
and obvious reasons the parish priest was not to be allowed to stand
security under any circumstances. The loan was for a year, and if at
the end of that time the pledge was not redeemed, it was to be sold,
but all that it might fetch over and above the amount of the original
loan was to be returned to the borrower.[369]
In close connection with the subject of wills in pre-Reformation times
is that of chantries and obits. Both these two institutions of the
later mediæval church in England have been commonly much misunderstood
and misrepresented. Most writers regard them only in the light of the
doctrine of Purgatory, and as illustrating the extent to which the
necessity of praying for the dead was impressed upon the people by the
ecclesiastical authorities, and that with a view to their own profit.
It has come, therefore, to be believed that a “chantry” only meant a
place (chapel or other locality) connected with the parish church,
where masses were offered for the repose of the soul of the donor,
and other specified benefactors. No doubt there were such chantries
existing, but to imagine that all followed this rule is wholly to
mistake the purpose of such foundations. Speaking broadly, the chantry
priests were the assistant priests or, as we should nowadays say, the
curates of the parish, who were supported by the foundation funds
which benefactors had left or given for that purpose, and even not
infrequently by the contributions of the inhabitants. To speak the
language of our own time the system held the place of the “additional
curates” or “pastoral aid” societies. For the most part the _raison
d’être_ of these chantry priests was to look after the poor of the
parish, to visit the sick, and to assist in the functions of the parish
church. By universal custom, and even by statute law of the English
Church, every chaplain and chantry priest, besides the fulfilment of
the functions of his own special benefice, was bound to be at the
disposition of the parish priest in the common services of the parish
church. His presence was required in the choir, vested in a surplice
or other ecclesiastical dress proper to his station, or as one of the
sacred ministers of the altar, should his services be so required. In
this way the existence of guild chaplains, chantry priests, and others,
added to the dignity of the ecclesiastical offices and the splendour
of the ceremonial in most parish churches throughout the country, and
afforded material and often necessary assistance in the working of the
parish.
It will give, perhaps, a better idea of the functions of a chantry
priest on the eve of the Reformation than can be obtained by any
description, to take an example of the foundation made for a chantry
at the altar of Saint Anne in the church of Badsworth. It was founded
in 1510 to pray for the soul of Isabella, wife of William Vavasour, and
daughter of Robert Urswick. The charter deed ordains that the chaplain
shall be a secular priest, without other benefice, and that he should
say a Requiem each week with _Placebo_ and _Dirige_. At the first
lavatory of the Mass he is to turn to the people and exhort them to
pray for the soul of the founder, saying _De Profundis_ and the prayer
_Inclina Domine_. Once every year there is to be an anniversary service
on Tuesday in Easter week, when ten shillings and eightpence is to be
distributed to the poor under the direction of the rector. The chaplain
is to be learned in grammar and plain song, and should be present in
the choir of the parish church at Matins, Mass, Vespers, and Compline,
with other divine services on Sundays and feasts, when he is to take
what part the rector shall ordain. He is not to be absent for more than
a month, and then only with leave of the rector, by whom, for certain
specified offences, he may be deprived of his office.[370]
In these chantries were established services for the dead commonly
called “obits.” These were not, as we have been asked to believe,
mere money payments to the priest for anniversary services, but were,
for the most part, bequests left quite as much for annual alms to the
poor as for the celebration of those services. A few examples will
illustrate this better than any explanation. In the town of Nottingham
there were two chantries connected with the parish church of St. Mary,
that of our Lady and that called Amyas Chantry. The former, according
to the record, was founded “to maintain the services and to be an aid
to the Vicar and partly to succour the poor;” the latter, to assist in
“God’s service,” and to pray for William Amyas the founder. When the
commissioners, in the first year of Edward VI., came to inquire into
the possession of these chantries, they were asked to note that in this
parish there were “1400 houseling people, and that the vicar there
had no other priests to help but the above two chantry priests.” They
were not, of course, spared on this account, for within two years the
property, upon which these two priests were supported, had been sold to
two speculators in such parcels of land--John Howe and John Broxholme.
Then again, in the parish of St. Nicholas, in the same town, we
find from the returns that the members of the Guild of the Virgin
contributed to the support of a priest. In that parish there were more
than 200 houseling people, and as the living was very poor, there
was absolutely no other priest to look after them but this one, John
Chester, who was paid by the guild. The king’s officials, however, did
not hesitate on this account to confiscate the property. It is needless
to adduce other instances of this kind, some scores of which might be
given in the county of Nottingham alone. As an example of “obits” and
the purposes for which they were intended, the following instances
may be given, which it must be remembered could be multiplied to any
extent. From the returns of the commissioners in Nottinghamshire we
find that in the parish of South Wheatley there were parish lands let
out to farm which produced eighteenpence a year, say from eighteen
shillings to a pound of our money. Of this sum, one shilling was for
the poor, and sixpence for church lights; that is two-thirds, or, say,
16s. of our money, was for the relief of the distressed. So in the
parish of Tuxford, the church “obit” lands produced £1, 5s. 4d., or
about £16 a year; of which 16s. 4d. was for the poor and 9s. for the
church services.
Mr. Thorold Rogers, speaking of the endowments left by generations
of Englishmen for the support of chantries, obits, &c., says: “The
ancient tenements which are still the property of the London companies
were originally burdened with masses for donors. In the country, the
parochial clergy undertook the services of these chantries … and
the establishment of a mass or chantry priest at a fixed stipend in
a church with which he had no other relation, was a common form of
endowment. The residue, if any, of the revenue derivable from these
tenements was made the common property of the guild, and as the
continuity of the service was the great object of its establishment,
the donor, like the modern trustee of a life income, took care that
there should be a surplus from the foundation. The land or house was
let, and the guild consented to find the ministration which formed the
motive of the grant.”[371]
This is very true, but it is questionable whether Mr. Thorold
Rogers appreciated the extent to which these chantry funds were
intended to be devoted to purposes other than the performance of the
specified religious services. A couple of examples have been given in
Nottinghamshire, and to these may be added one in the south of England.
In connection with the parish church of Alton, in Hampshire, there
were, on the eve of the Reformation, six foundations for obits. The
following is the account of these taken from the chantry certificates
made by the king’s commissioners in the first year of the reign of
Edward VI.: (1) “Issues of land for an obit for John Pigott, growing
and coming out of certain houses and lands in Alton for to maintain for
ever a yearly obit there, in the tenure of Thomas Mathew, of the yearly
value of 23s. 4d.; whereof to the poor 15s. 4d., to the parish priest
and his clerk 8s. (2) The same for an obit for William Reding, of the
annual value of 15s., of which the poor were to have 10s. and the
priest and his clerk 5s. (3) The same for Alice Hacker, of the yearly
value of 10s., of which the poor were to get 7s. 8d. and the priest
2s. 4d. (4) Another of the value of 4s., the poor to get 2s. 10d.
and the priest 1s. 2d. (5) Another for the soul of Nicholas Bailey,
worth annually 11s., and of this 7s. 8d. was intended for the poor
and 3s. 4d. for the clergy. (6) Another for Nicholas Crushelon, worth
annually 4s. 4d., the poor to have 3s. 1d. and the priest 1s. 3d.” In
this parish of Alton, therefore, these six foundations for “obits” or
anniversaries produced a total of 77s. 8d., but so far from the whole
sum being spent upon priests’ stipends, lights, and singing men, we
find that considerably more than half, namely 46s. 7d., was bestowed
upon the relief of the poor of the parish. Or if we take the value of
money in those days as only twelve times that of our present money, out
of a total of £36, 12s. some £27, 19s. went to the support of the poor.
It is obvious that the general advantages derived by a parish from the
foundation of these chantries and obits have been commonly overlooked,
and the notion that they were intended for no other purpose than
procuring prayers for the dead, and that in fact they served no other
end, is altogether misleading and erroneous. Without the assistance
of the clergy, so supported by the generosity of those who left money
for these foundations, the religious services in many of the parish
churches of England in pre-Reformation times could not have been so
fittingly or even adequately provided for. Wherever information is
available this view is borne out, and it is altogether to mistake the
true bearing of facts to suppose that in suppressing the chantries
and appropriating the endowment of obits the officials of Edward VI.
merely put an end to superstitious prayers for the souls in Purgatory.
In reality they deprived the poor of much property left by deceased
persons for their relief, and took away from every parish in England
the assistance of the unbeneficed clergy who had hitherto helped to
support the dignity of God’s worship and look after the souls of the
people in the larger districts.
One instance may be given to illustrate how far the chantry
clergy actually took part in the work of the parish. At Henley on
Thames, on the eve of the Reformation, there were seven chapels or
chantries--namely, those of Our Lady, St. Katherine, St. Clement,
St. Nicholas, St. Ann, St. John, and St. Leonard. These were all
supported by various bequests, and the four priests who served them
all resided in a common house situated in the churchyard known as “the
chapel-house,” or “the four priest chambers.” The disposition of the
services of these chaplains was apparently in the hands of the “Warden
and the commonalty” of the township, and for the convenience of the
people they arrange, for example, that the chaplain of the Lady altar
shall say his mass there every day at six in the morning, and that
the priest in charge of St. Katherine’s shall always begin his at
eight.[372]
“To maintain God’s service” is perhaps the most common reason assigned
to King Edward’s commission for the existence of a chantry, or
chantries, in connection with a parish church. Thus at Edwinstowe, in
Nottinghamshire, there was a chantry chapel a mile from the parish
church known as Clipston Chantry. The priest was John Thompson,
and he had £5 a year, and “hath no mansion but a parlour under the
chapel.”[373] At Harworth in the same county there was the hospital of
St. Mary’s of Bawtree, founded by Robert Morton to serve the people two
miles from the parish church. The priest had a mansion and close, “and
had to say Mass every morning before sunrise, for such as be travellers
by the way and to maintain God’s service there, which towne is also a
thoroughfare towne.”[374] At Hayton, still in the same county, also two
miles from the parish church, was the chantry of Tilne, founded for a
priest to serve the villages of North and South Tilne “to celebrate
mass and minister the sacraments to the inhabitants adjoining, for that
they for the greatness of the waters cannot divers times in the year
repair to the parish church.” For “the water doth abound so much within
the said hamlets that the inhabitants thereof can by no means resort
into their parish church of Hayton, being two miles distant from the
said chapel, neither for christening, burying, nor other rights.”[375]
The purposes which these chantry priests were intended to serve is
seen to be the same all over England. To take Suffolk for example:
at Redgrave, near Eye, or rather at Botesdale, a hamlet about a mile
and a half from Redgrave, there was a chapel of “ancient standing for
the ease of the inhabitants of the said street, which was first built
at their cost, whereunto do belong no other than the chapel yard.”
The “street” consisted of forty-six householders, and by estimation a
hundred and sixty houselings. It was “a common thoroughfare and hath a
liberty of market.” These matters “the poor inhabitants” submitted to
the King; it is unnecessary to say without success.[376] At Levenham
the alderman of St. Peter’s Guild held certain lands to find a priest
who was to teach the children of the town, and was to be “secondary to
the curate, who without help of another priest is not able to serve the
cure there,” as there were two thousand souls in the district.[377]
So, too, at Mildenhall there was a chantry established, as the parish
was long and populous, “having a great number of houseling people and
sundry hamlets, divers of them having chapels distant from the parish
church one mile or two miles, where the said priest did sing Mass
sundry festival days and other holy days, and also help the curate to
minister the Sacraments, who without help were not able to discharge
his cure.”[378] At Southwold were four cottages left by one John Perce
for an “obit.” The property produced twenty shillings a year, and
of this sum ten shillings were to be distributed to the poor; eight
shillings to maintain the town and pay the taxes of the poor, and two
shillings to be paid to the parson and his clerk for their services in
church. There was also in the same town a tenement called Skilman’s,
intended to supply a stipendiary priest for sixteen years to the
parish, and after that to go to the town. The sixteen years were up
when the royal commissioners visited the town, and the whole sum was
then being spent on the town. In vain the people pleaded that “it was
to be considered that the said town of Southwold is a very poor town,
whereupon the sea lies beating daily, to the great ruin and destruction
of the said town, if that the power and violence of the same were
not broken by the maintenance of jetties and piers there, and that
the maintenance of the haven and bridge of the same town is likewise
very chargeable.” The marsh belonging to the said tenement, called
Skilman’s, is let to the poor inhabitants of the same town, every man
paying for his cowgate by the year 20d. only “to the great relief of
the poor.”[379]
So, too, the Aldermen of the Guild of the Holy Ghost in Beccles held
lands to supply a priest to assist in the parish for ninety-nine years,
to find money to pay the tenths, fifteenths, and other taxes, and for
other charitable purposes. The property brought in £10, 9s. 4d., and
each year the poor received forty shillings; thirty shillings went to
pay for the taxes, and the rest--some £6--to the priest. In order to
induce the king to leave this fund untouched, the commissioners of 1547
are asked to note “that Beccles is a great and populous town,” there
being eight hundred houselings, “and the said priest is aiding unto
the curate there, who without help is not able to discharge the said
cure.”[380]
The case of Bury St. Edmunds is particularly distressing. Amongst other
charities, lands had been left by will or given by various benefactors
to find priests to serve St. Mary’s, to sing “the Jesus Mass,” and to
act as chaplain at the Lady altar. Property also was given in charge
of St. Nicholas Guild of the annual value of 25s. 4d., of which sum
22s. was to be distributed to the poor of the town, and the rest was to
go to the annual anniversary services for members of the guild. More
property, too, had been left by one Margaret Oldham for a priest to say
Mass in the church of St. James on the week days, and in the jail on
the Sundays, and to find the poor prisoners in wood for a fire during
winter months. There were several other similar benefactions of the
same kind, and the parishioners of St. James’s church “gathered weekly
of their devotion” the stipend of a priest paid to say “the morrow
Mass”--that is, the Mass at daybreak intended for those who had to go
early to their daily work. When the royal commissioners came on behalf
of the said Edward VI. to gather in these spoils at Bury, they were
asked to forward to the authorities in London the following plea for
pity: “It is to be considered that the said town of Bury is a great and
populous town, having in it two parish churches, and in the parishes
of the same above the number of 3000 houseling persons, and a great
number of youth. And the king’s majesty hath all the tithes and all
the profits yearly coming and growing within the same parishes,[381]
finding two parish priests there. And the said two parish priests are
not able to serve and discharge the said cures without aid and help
of other priests. And further, there is no school, nor other like
foundation, within the said town, nor within twenty miles of it, for
the virtuous education and bringing up of youth, nor any hospital or
other like foundation for the comfort and relief of the poor, of which
there is an exceeding great number within the said town other than what
are before mentioned, of which the said incumbents do now take the
whole[382] yearly revenues and profits, and distribute no part thereof
to the aid and comfort or relief of the said poor people.
“In consideration whereof it may please the king’s majesty of his most
charitable benignity, moved with pity in that behalf, to convert the
revenues and profits of the sum of the said promotions into some godly
foundation, whereby the said poor inhabitants, daily there multiplying,
may be relieved, and the youth instructed and brought up virtuously,
or otherwise, according to his most godly and discreet wisdom, and the
inhabitants shall daily pray to God for the prosperous preservation of
his most excellent majesty, long to endure.”[383]
It is hardly necessary to say that the petition had no effect. At
Bury, as indeed all over England, the claims of the sick and poor were
disregarded and the money passed into the possession of the crown.
The hospitals that mediæval charity had erected and supported were
destroyed; the youth remained untaught; the poor were deprived of the
charity which had been, as it was supposed, secured to them for ever by
the wills of generations of Catholic benefactors; the poor prisoners
in the jail at Bury had to go without their Sunday Mass and their
winter fire; whilst the money that had hitherto supported chaplains
and chantry priests to assist the parish priests in the care of their
districts was taken by the crown.
For Yorkshire the certificates of the commissioners have been published
by the Surtees Society. The same impression as to the utility and
purpose of the chantry and other assisting priests may be gathered from
almost every page. For example, the chantry of St. Katherine in the
parish church of Selby: “The necessity thereof is to do divine service,
and help the parish priest in time of necessity to minister sacraments
and sacramentals and other divine services.”… For “the said parish of
Selby is a great parish, having but one curate, and in the same parish
is a thousand houseling people; and the said curate has no help in time
of necessity but only the said chauntry priest.”[384]
Again: “Two chantries of our Lady in the parish church of Leeds,
‘founded by the parishioners there to serve in the choir and to
minister sacraments and other divine service, as shall be appointed
by the vicar and other honest parishioners there, which they do.… The
necessity thereof is to do divine service, to help the curate, and
minister the Sacraments, having 3000 houseling people.’”[385]
In the same parish church, the chantry of St. Mary Magdalene was
“founded by William Evers, late vicar of Leeds, to pray for the soul of
the founder and all Christian souls, to minister at the altar of St.
Mary Magdalene, to keep one yearly obit, with seven shillings to be
distributed, and to serve in the choir at divine service all holy days
and festival days, as appears by the foundation deed thereof, dated
A.D. 1524.”[386]
One more example may be taken out of the hundreds in these volumes:
“The chantry, or donative, within the chapel of Holbecke in the parish
of Leeds, ‘the incumbent is used to say daily mass there and is taken
for a stipendiary priest paying tithes. And there is a great river
between the said parish church and the chapel, whereby they can by no
means often pass to the said church.… The said chantry is distant from
the said parish church one mile. The necessity thereof is to do divine
service according to the foundation.’”[387]
A few words enforcing the lesson to be learned from these extracts
taken from the preface to the second part of these interesting
Yorkshire records may be here given. Mr. Page, the editor, says: “Up to
the time of the Reformation nearly all education was maintained by the
church, and when the chantries were dissolved practically the whole of
the secondary education of the country would have been swept away, had
not some provision for the instruction of the middle and lower classes
been made by continuing, under new ordinances, some of the educational
endowments which pious founders had previously provided.”[388]
“The next most important class of foundations, some of which were
continued under the commission … consisted of the chapels of ease,
which were much required in extensive parishes with a scattered
population, and had been generally founded by the parishioners for
their own convenience. It seems, therefore, that the dissolution of
these chapels was a peculiar hardship. As early as 1233, the Pope
granted licence to the archbishop of York to build oratories or chapels
and to appoint to them priests, in places so distant from the parish
churches that the people could with difficulty attend divine service,
and the sick died before the priest could get to them to administer
the last sacraments. The necessity for these chapels of ease was
especially felt in Yorkshire, where the inhabitants of so many outlying
hamlets were cut off from their parish churches in winter time by
impassable roads and flooded rivers, which is the reason time after
time assigned by the commissioners, for the necessity of the existence
of such chapels; and yet comparatively few of them were recommended for
continuance by Sir Walter Mildmay and Robert Kelway in the returns to
the commission. Possibly, it was the loss of the endowments of Ayton
chapel which occasioned the insurrection at Leamer … which chapel the
inhabitants so piously kept up afterwards at their own expense.”[389]
“In most cases, the chantry priest seems to have acted in much the
same capacity in a parish as that now occupied by the curate; he
assisted the parish priest in performing mass, hearing confessions and
visiting the sick, and also helped in the ordinary services of the
church; the few only were licensed to preach, like the schoolmaster at
Giggleswick. In the Cathedral Church at York, besides praying for the
soul of his founder and all Christian souls, each chantry priest had
to be present in the choir in his habit of a parson on all principal
and double feast days, Sundays, and nine lections, at Matins, Mass,
Evensong, and processions, when he had to read lessons, begin anthems,
and to minister at the high altar as should be appointed to him by the
officers of the choir. Besides these purely ecclesiastical duties, very
many of the chantry priests were bound to teach a certain number of
the children of the neighbourhood, which was the origin of most of our
Grammar schools.”[390]
CHAPTER XIII
PILGRIMAGES AND RELICS
Pilgrimages and the honour shown to relics are frequently pointed out
as, with Indulgences, among the most objectionable features of the
pre-Reformation ecclesiastical system. It is assumed that on the eve of
the religious changes the abuses in these matters were so patent, that
no voice was, or indeed could have been, raised in their defence, and
it is asserted that they were swept away without regret or protest as
one of the most obvious and necessary items in the general purification
of the mediæval church initiated in the reign of Henry VIII. That they
had indeed been tolerated at all even up to the time of their final
overthrow was in part, if not entirely, due to the clergy, and in
particular to the monks who, as they derived much pecuniary benefit
from encouraging such practices, did not scruple to inculcate by every
means in their power the spiritual advantages to be derived from them.
That the objectionable features of these so-called works of piety had
long been recognised, is taken for granted, and the examinations of
people suspected of entertaining Wycliffite opinions are pointed to
as proof that earnest men were alive to these abuses for more than a
century before religion was purified from them. As conclusive evidence
of this, the names, too, of Chaucer for early times, and of Erasmus
for the Reform period, are given as those whose condemnation and even
scornful rejection of such practices cannot be doubted. It becomes
important, then, for a right understanding of the mental attitude of
the people generally to the existing ecclesiastical system at the time
of its overthrow, to see how far the outcry against pilgrimages and
the devotion to relics was really popular, and what were the precise
objections taken to them by the innovators.
It is difficult to exaggerate the importance attached to pilgrimages
by our pre-Reformation forefathers. From very early times the practice
was followed with eagerness, not to say with devotion, and included not
merely visits to the shrines situated within the country itself, but
long and often perilous journeys into foreign lands--to Compostella,
Rome, and to the Holy Land itself. These foreign pilgrimages of
course could be undertaken only by the rich, or by those for whom the
requisite money was found by some one unable to undertake the journey
in person. Not infrequently the early English wills contain injunctions
upon the executors to defray the cost of some poor pilgrim to Spain,
to Rome, or to some of the noted shrines on the Continent. The English
love for these works of piety in nowise showed any sign of decadence
even right up to the period of change. Books furnishing intending
pilgrims with necessary information, and vocabularies, even in Greek,
were prepared to assist them in their voyages. The itineraries of
William Wey, printed by the Roxburghe Club, give a very good idea of
what these great religious pilgrimages must have been like at the
close of the fifteenth century. In 1462 Wey was in the Holy Land, and
describes how joyfully the pilgrims on landing at Jaffa sang the
“_Urbs beata Jerusalem_ in faburthyn.” In 1456 he took part in a large
English pilgrimage to St. James of Compostella, leaving Plymouth with
a shipload of English fellow-pilgrims on May 17. William Wey’s ship
was named the _Mary White_, and in company with them six other English
ships brought pilgrims from Portsmouth, Bristol, Weymouth, Lymington,
and a second from Plymouth. They reached Corunna on May 21st, and
Compostella for the great celebration of Trinity Day. Wey was evidently
much honoured by being pointed out to the church officials as the chief
Englishman of note present, and he was given the post of first bearer
of the canopy in the procession of the Blessed Sacrament. Four out of
the six poles were carried by his countrymen, whom he names as Austill,
Gale, and Fulford.
On their return the pilgrims spent three days at Corunna. They were not
allowed to be idle, but religious festivities must have occupied most
of their time. On Wednesday, the eve of Corpus Christi day, there was a
procession of English pilgrims throughout the city and a mass in honour
of the Blessed Virgin. On Corpus Christi itself their procession was
in the Franciscan church, and a sermon was preached in English by an
English Bachelor in Theology on the theme, _Ecce ego; vocasti me_. “No
other nation,” says William Wey, somewhat proudly, “had these special
services but the English.” In the first port there were ships belonging
to English, Welsh, Irish, Norman, French, and Breton, and the English
alone had two and thirty.
Such journeys were not, of course, in those days devoid of danger,
especially from sickness brought on, or developed in the course of the
travels. Erasmus, in his _Colloquy on Rash Vows_, speaks of losing
three in a company. “One dying on the way commissioned us to salute
Peter (in Rome) and James (at Compostella) in his name. Another we lost
at Rome, and he desired that we should greet his wife and children
for him. The third we left behind at Florence, his recovery entirely
despaired of, and I imagine he is now in heaven.” That this account of
the mortality among pilgrims is not exaggerated is shown in the diary
of Sir Richard Torkington, Rector of Mulbarton, in Norfolk. In 1517 he
made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and records on “the 25th of August,
that was Saynt Bertolmew’s day, deceased Robert Crosse of London, and
was buried in the churchyard of Salyus (in the island of Cyprus); and
the 27th day of August deceased Sir Thomas Tappe, a priest of the West
country, and was cast over the board; as were many more whose souls
God assoyl; and then there remained in the ship four English priests
more.”[391]
If Englishmen went abroad to the celebrated shrines, foreigners in
turn found their way to the no less renowned places of pilgrimage in
England. Pilgrims’ inns and places of rest were scattered over the
great roads leading to Glastonbury, Walsingham, and Canterbury, and
other “holy spots” in this island, and at times these places were
thronged with those who came to pay their devotion. At one time we
are told that more than a hundred thousand pilgrims were together in
the city of Canterbury to celebrate one of the Jubilee celebrations
of the martyr St. Thomas; whilst the road to Walsingham was so much
frequented, that in the common mind the very “milk way” had been set
by Providence in the heaven to point the path to Our Lady’s shrine.
With the very question of pilgrimages, Sir Thomas More actually deals
in the first portion of his _Dyalogue_, and it would be difficult to
find any authority who should carry greater weight. He first deals with
the outcry raised by the followers of Luther against the riches which
had been lavished upon the churches, and in particular upon the shrines
containing the relics of saints.
Those who so loudly condemn this devotion shown by the church to the
saints should know, he says “that the church worships not the saints
as God, but as God’s servants, and therefore the honour that is done
to them redoundeth principally to the honour of their Master; just
as by common custom of people we sometimes, for their master’s sake,
reverence and make great cheer for people to whom perhaps except for
this we would not have said ‘good morrow.’
“And sure if any benefit or alms, done to one of Christ’s poor folk for
his sake, be reputed and accepted by His high goodness, as done unto
Himself: and if whosoever receiveth one of His apostles or disciples
receives Himself, every wise man may well think that in like manner
he who honours His holy saints for His sake, honours Himself, except
these heretics think that God were as envious as they are themselves,
and that He would be wroth to have any honour done to any other, though
it thereby redoundeth unto Himself. In this matter our Saviour Christ
clearly declares the contrary, for He shows Himself so well content
that His holy saints shall be partakers of His honour that He promises
His apostles that at the dreadful doom (when He shall come in His high
majesty) they shall have their honourable seats and sit with Himself
upon the judgment of the world. Christ also promised that Saint Mary
Magdalene should be worshipped through the world and have here an
honourable remembrance because she bestowed that precious ointment upon
His holy head. When I consider this thing it makes me marvel at the
madness of these heretics that bark against the old ancient customs of
Christ’s church, mocking at the setting up of candles, and with foolish
facetiousness (fallacies) and blasphemous mockery demand whether God
and His saints lack light, or whether it be night with them that they
cannot see without a candle. They might as well ask what good did that
ointment do to Christ’s head? But the heretics grudge the cost now as
their brother Judas did then, and say it were better spent on alms upon
a poor folk, and thus say many of them who can neither find in their
heart to spend on the one nor the other. And some spend sometimes on
the one for no other intent, but the more boldly to rebuke against and
rail against the other.”
After pointing out how riches were lavished on the temple by God’s
special ordinance, Sir Thomas More continues: “If men will say that
the money were better spent among poor folk by whom He (_i.e._ God)
setteth more store as the living temples of the Holy Ghost made by His
own hand than by the temples of stone made by the hand of men, this
would perhaps be true if there were so little to do it with that we
should be driven by necessity to leave the one undone. But God gives
enough for both, and gives divers men divers kinds of devotion, and
all to His pleasure. Luther, in a sermon of his, wished that he had
in his hand all the pieces of the holy cross, and said if he had he
would throw them where the sun should never shine on them. And for what
worshipful reason would the wretch do such villainy to the cross of
Christ? Because, as he says, there is so much gold now bestowed on the
garnishing of the pieces of the cross that there is none left for poor
folks. Is not this a high reason? As though all the gold that is now
bestowed about the pieces of the holy cross would not have failed to
be given to poor men if they had not been bestowed on the garnishing
of the cross; and as though there was nothing lost except what is
bestowed about Christ’s cross. Take all the gold that is spent about
all the pieces of Christ’s cross through Christendom (albeit many a
good Christian prince and other godly people have honourably garnished
many pieces of it), yet if all the gold were gathered together it would
appear a poor portion in comparison with the gold that is bestowed upon
cups--what do we speak of cups for? in which the gold, though it is not
given to poor men, is saved, and may be given in alms when men will,
which they never will; how small a portion, ween we, were the gold
about all the pieces of Christ’s cross, if it were compared with the
gold that is quite cast away about the gilding of knives, swords, &c.”
Our author then goes on to put in the mouth of the “objector” the chief
reasons those who were then the advocates of the religious changes were
urging against pilgrimages to the shrines of saints and to special
places of devotion to our Blessed Lady. Protesting that he had, of
course, no desire to see the images of the saints treated in any way
disrespectfully, the objector declares that “yet to go in pilgrimages
to them, or to pray to them, not only seemed vain, considering that
(if they can do anything) they can do no more for us among them all
than Christ can Himself alone who can do all things, nor are they so
ready to hear (if they hear us at all) as Christ that is everywhere.”…
Moreover, to go a pilgrimage to one place rather than to another “seems
to smell of idolatry,” as implying that God was not so powerful in
one place as He is in another, and, as it were, making God and His
saints “bound to a post, and that post cut out and carved into images.
For when we reckon we are better heard by our Lord in Kent than at
Cambridge, at the north door of Paul’s than at the south door, at one
image of our Lady than at another,” is it not made plain that we “put
our trust and confidence in the image itself, and not in God and our
Lady,” and think of the image and not of what the image represents.
Further, “men reckon that the clergy gladly favour these ways, and
nourish this superstition under the name and colour of devotion, to the
peril of people’s souls for the lucre and temporal advantage that they
themselves receive from the offerings” (p. 120).
Lest it may be thought that these objections to places of pilgrimage
were merely such as Sir Thomas More invented to put into the mouth of
the “objector” in order to refute them, the reader may like to have the
words of a known advocate of the new ideas. Lancelot Ridley, in his
expositions of some of the Epistles, states his views very clearly.
“Ignorant people,” he writes, “have preferred the saints before God,
and put more trust, more confidence, (look for) more help and succour,
in a saint than in God. Yea, I fear me that many have put their help
and succour in an image made of stone or of wood by men’s hand, and
have done great honour and reverence to the image, believing that
great virtue and great holiness was in that image above other images.
Therefore that image must have a velvet coat hanged all over with
brooches of silver, and much silver hanged about it and on it, with
much light burning before it, and with candles always burning before
it. I would no man (should put out the light) in contempt of the saint
whose image there is, but I would have this evil opinion out of the
simple hearts that they should esteem images after the value they are,
and put no more holiness in one image than in another, no more virtue
in one than in another. It holds the simple people in great blindness,
and makes them put great trust and (esteem) great holiness in images,
because one image is called our Lady of Grace, another our Lady of
Pity, another our Lady of Succour or Comfort; the Holy Rood of such a
place, &c.” And this he maintained, though he did not condemn images
generally in churches. These he thought useful to remind people of
God’s saints and their virtues, and “to stir up our dull hearts and
slothful minds to God and to goodness.” What he objected to chiefly was
the special places of pilgrimage and special images to which more than
ordinary devotion was shown.[392]
In another of his _Expositions_, printed in 1540, Ridley again states
his objections to the places of pilgrimage. “Some think,” he writes,
“that they have some things of God, and other part of saints, of
images, and so divide God’s glory, part to God and part to an image,
of wood or of stone made by man’s hand. This some ignorant persons
have done in times past, and thanked God for their health and the
blessed Lady of Walsingham, of Ipswich, St. Edmund of Bury, Etheldred
of Ely, the Lady of Redbourne, the Holy Blood of Hayles, the Holy Rood
of Boxley, of Chester, &c., and so other images in this realm to the
which have been much pilgrimage and much idolatry, supposing the dead
images could have healed them or could have done something for them to
God. For this the ignorant have crouched, kneeled, kissed, bobbed and
licked the images, giving them coats of cloth, of gold, silver, and of
tissue, velvet, damask, and satin, and suffered the living members of
Christ to be without a russet coat or a sackcloth to keep them from the
cold.”[393]
Again in another place he says that his great objection to images
is not that they may not be good in themselves and as a reminder of
the holiness of the saints, but that they are used as a means of
making money. “Who can tell,” he writes, “half the ways they have
found to get, yea to extort money from men by images, by pardons, by
pilgrimages, by indulgences, &c. … all invented for money.” The above
passages may be taken as fair samples of the outcry against shrines and
pilgrimages raised by the English followers of Luther and the advocates
of the religious changes generally. It will be noticed that the ground
of the objections was in reality only the same as that which induced
them to declare against any honour shown to images, whether of Christ
or His saints. There is no suggestion of any special abuses connected
with particular shrines and places of pilgrimage, such as is often
hinted at by those who refer to Chaucer and Erasmus. In addition to
the general ground of objection, the only point raised in regard to
pilgrimages by the advocates for their suppression was that money was
spent upon them which might have been bestowed more profitably on the
poor, and that the clergy were enriched by the offerings made at the
shrines visited. Sir Thomas More’s reply to the latter suggestion has
been already given, and elsewhere his views as to the general question
of the danger of people mistaking the nature of the honour shown to
images of the saints have been stated at length. With regard to his
approval of the principle of pilgrimages there is no room for doubt.
“If the thing were so far from all frame of right religion,” he says,
“and so perilous to men’s souls, I cannot perceive why the clergy,
for the gain they get thereby, would suffer such abuses to continue.
For, first, if it were true that no pilgrimage ought to be used, no
image offered to, nor worship done nor prayer offered to any saint,
then--if all these things were all undone (if that were the right way,
as I wot well it were wrong), then to me there is little question but
that Christian people who are in the true faith and in the right way
Godward would not thereby in any way slack their good minds towards the
ministers of His church, but their devotion towards them would more and
more increase. So that if by this way they now get a penny they would
not then fail to receive a groat; and so should no lucre be the cause
to favour this way if it be wrong, whilst they could not fail to win
more by the right.”
“Moreover, look through Christendom and you will find the fruit of
those offerings a right small part of the living of the clergy, and
such as, though some few places would be glad to retain, yet the whole
body might easily forbear without any notable loss. Let us consider our
own country, and we shall find that these pilgrimages are for the most
part in the hands of such religious persons or of such poor parishes
as have no great authority in the convocations. Besides this you will
not find, I suppose, that any Bishop in England has the profit of even
one groat from any such offering in his diocese. Now, the continuance
or breaking of this manner and custom stands them specially in the
power of those who take no profit by it. If they believed it to be
(as you call it) superstitious and wicked they would never suffer it
to continue to the perishing of men’s souls (something whereby they
themselves would destroy their own souls and get no commodity either in
body or goods). And beyond this, we see that the bishops and prelates
themselves visit these holy places and pilgrimages, and make as large
offerings and (incur) as great cost in coming and going as other
people do, so that they not only take no temporal advantage, but also
bestow their own money therein. And surely I believe this devotion so
planted by God’s own hand in the hearts of the whole Church, that is to
say, not the clergy only, but the whole congregation of all Christian
people, that if the spirituality were of the mind to give it up, yet
the temporality would not suffer it.”
It would be impossible, without making extensive quotations, to do
justice to Sir Thomas More’s argument in favour of the old Catholic
practice of pilgrimages. He points out that the whole matter turns
upon the question whether or no Almighty God does manifest His power
and presence more in one place of His world than in another. That He
does so, he thinks cannot be questioned; why He should do so, it is
not for us to guess, but the single example of the Angel and the pool
of Bethsaida related in St. John’s Gospel is sufficient proof of the
fact--at least to Sir Thomas More’s intelligence. Moreover, he thinks
also that in many cases the special holiness of a place of pilgrimage
has been shown by the graces and favours, and even miracles, which have
been granted by God at that particular spot, and on the “objector”
waiving this argument aside on the plea that he does not believe in
modern miracles, More declares that what is even more than miracles
in his estimation is the “common belief in Christ’s Church” in the
practice.
As to believing in miracles; they, like every other fact, depend
on evidence and proof. It is unreasonable in the highest degree to
disbelieve everything which we have not seen or which we do not
understand. Miracles, like everything else, must be believed on the
evidence of credible witnesses. What in their day, he says, is believed
in by all would have been deemed impossible a century or two before;
for example, that the earth is round and “sails in mid-air,” and that
“men walk on it foot to foot” and ships sail on its seas “bottom to
bottom.” Again, “It is not fifty years ago,” he says, “since the first
man, as far as men have heard, came to London who ever parted the
silver gilt from the silver, consuming shortly the silver into dust
with a very fair water.” At first the gold and silver smiths laughed
at the suggestion as absurd and impossible. Quite recently also More
had been told that it was possible to melt iron and make it “to run
as silver or lead doeth, and make it take a print.” More had never,
he says, seen this, but he had seen the new invention of drawing out
silver into thread-like wires. The “objector” was incredulous, and when
More went on to tell him that if a piece of silver had been gilded,
it could be drawn out with the gilding into gilt wires, he expressed
his disbelief in the possibility of such a thing, and was hardly more
satisfied that he was not being deceived when the process was shown to
him the next day.
These and such like things, argues More, show us that our knowledge is,
after all, very limited, and that while some supposed miracles may be
doubted, it is most unreasonable to doubt or deny the possibility of
miracles generally. If nature and reason tell us there is a God, the
same two prove that miracles are not impossible, and that God can act
when He wills against the course of nature. Whether He does in this or
that case is plainly a matter of evidence. The importance of Sir Thomas
More’s opinion on the matter of Pilgrimage does not, of course, rest
upon the nature of his views, which were those naturally of all good
Catholic sons of Holy Church, but upon the fact that, in face of the
objections which were then made and which were of the kind to which
subsequent generations have been accustomed, so learned and liberal a
man as he was, did not hesitate to treat them as groundless, and to
defend the practice as it was then known in England. That there may
have been “abuses” he would have no doubt fully admitted, but that the
“abuses” were either so great or so serious as to be any reasonable
ground against the “use” he would equally have indignantly denied.
No less clear and definite are his opinions as to “relics” and the
honour shown them. The “adversary” in the _Dyalogue_ takes up the usual
objections urged against the reverence shown to the remains of the
saints, and in particular to the wealth which was lavished upon their
shrines. “May the taking up of a man’s bones,” he says, “and setting
his carcase in a gay shrine, and then kissing his bare scalp, make a
man a saint? And yet are there some unshrined, for no man knoweth where
they lie. And men doubt whether some ever had any body at all or not,
but to recompense that again some there are who have two bodies, to
lend one to some good fellow that lacketh his. For … some one body lies
whole in two places asunder, or else the monks of the one be beguiled.
For both places plainly affirm that it lieth there, and at either place
they show the shrine, and in the shrine they show a body which they say
is _the_ body, and boldly allege old writings and miracles also for the
proof of it. Now must he confess that either the miracles at the one
place be false and done by the devil, or else that the same saint had
indeed two bodies. It is therefore likely that a bone worshipped for
a relic of some holy saint in some place was peradventure ‘a bone (as
Chaucer says) of some holy Jew’s sheep.’” More’s “adversary” then goes
on to say that our Lord in reproving the Pharisees for “making fresh
the sepulchres of the prophets” condemns the “gay golden shrines made
for saints’ bodies, especially when we have no certainty that they are
saints at all.”[394]
What all this really amounts to, replies More, is not that your reasons
would condemn honour and worship to true relics of the saints, but
that “we may be deceived in some that we take for saints--except you
would say that if we might by any possibility mistake some, therefore
we should worship none.” Few people would say this, and “I see,”
says More, “no great peril to us from the danger of a mistake. If
there came, for example, a great many of the king’s friends into your
country, and for his sake you make them all great cheer; if among them
there come unawares to you some spies that were his mortal enemies,
wearing his badge and seeming to you and so reported as his familiar
friends, would he blame you for the good cheer you made his enemies or
thank you for the good cheer you gave his friends?” He then goes on at
great length to suggest that, as in the case of the head of St. John
the Baptist in which portions only existing in each place are each
called “the head,” so, very frequently, only a portion of the body of
a saint is called “the body.” He mentions having himself been present
at the abbey of Barking thirty years before (_i.e._ in 1498), when a
number of relics were discovered hidden in an old image, which must
have been put there four or five hundred years since “when the abbey
was burned by the infidels.” He thinks that in this way the names of
relics are frequently either lost or changed. But he adds, “the name
is not so very requisite but that we may mistake it without peril, so
that we nevertheless have the relics of holy men in reverence.”
In replying to Tyndale also, More declares that he had never in all
his life held views against relics of the saints or the honour due to
their holy images. Tyndale had charged him with being compromised by
the words used by Erasmus in the _Enconium Moriæ_, which was known to
have been composed in More’s house, and was commonly regarded as almost
the joint work of the two scholars. If there were anything like this in
the _Moriæ_--any words that could mean or seem to mean anything against
the true Catholic devotion to relics and images--then More rejects them
from his heart. But they are not my words, he adds, “the book being
made by another man, though he were my darling never so dear” (p. 422).
But the real truth is that in the _Moriæ_ Erasmus never said more or
meant more than to “jest upon the abuses of such things.”
In this regard it is of interest to understand what was the real
opinion of Erasmus in regard to devotions to particular saints and
their images and relics. This is all the more important, as most
people regard the account of his two pilgrimages to Walsingham and to
Canterbury as full and conclusive evidence of his sentiments. In his
tract _Enchiridion Militis Christiani_, published at Louvain in 1518,
his views are stated with absolute clearness. “There are some,” he
says, “who honour certain saints with some special ceremonies.… One
salutes St. Christopher each day, and only in presence of his image.
Why does he wish to see it? Simply because he will then feel safe that
day from any evil death. Another honours Saint Roch--but why? Because
he thinks that he will drive away infection from his body. Others
murmur prayers to St. Barbara or St. George, so as not to fall into
the hands of any enemy. One man fasts for St. Apollonia, not to have
toothache. Some dedicate a certain portion of their gains to the poor
so that their merchandise is not destroyed in shipwreck,” &c.[395]
Our author’s point is that in these and such-like things people pray
for riches, &c., and do not think much about the right use of them;
they pray for health and go on living evil lives. In so far such
prayers to the saints are mere superstitions, and do not much differ
from the pagan superstitions; the cock to Æsculapius, the tithe to
Hercules, the bull to Neptune. “But,” he says, “I praise those who ask
from St. Roch a life protected from disease if they would consecrate
that life to Christ. I would praise them more if they would pray only
for increased detestation of vice and love virtue. I will tolerate
infirmity, but with Paul I show the better way.” He would think it,
consequently, a more perfect thing to pray only for grace to avoid sin
and to please God, and to leave life and death, sickness, health and
riches to Him and His will.
“You,” he says farther on, “venerate the saints, you rejoice to
possess their relics, but you despise the best thing they have left
behind them, namely, the example of a pure life. No devotion is so
pleasing to Mary as when you imitate her humility; no religion is so
acceptable to the saints and so proper in itself as striving to copy
their virtue. Do you wish to merit the patronage of Peter and Paul?
Imitate the faith of the one and the charity of the other and you will
do more than if you had made ten journeys to Rome. Do you wish to do
something to show high honour to St. Francis? You are proud, you are
a lover of riches, you are quarrelsome; give these to the saint, rule
your soul and be more humble by the example of Francis; despise filthy
lucre, and covet rather the good of the soul. Leave contentions aside
and overcome evil by good. The saint will receive more honour in this
way than if you were to burn a hundred candles to him. You think it a
great thing if clothed in the habit of St. Francis you are borne to the
grave. This dress will not profit you when you are dead if, when alive,
your morals were unlike his.”
“People,” he continues, “honour the relics of St. Paul, and do not
trouble to listen to his voice still speaking. They make much of a
large portion of one of his bones looked at through a glass, and think
little of honouring him really by understanding what he teaches and
trying to follow that.” It is the same so often with the honour shown
to the crucifix. “You honour,” he says, “the representation of Christ’s
face fashioned of stone or of wood or painted in colours, the image of
His mind ought to be more religiously honoured, which, by the work of
the Holy Spirit, is set forth in the gospels. No Apelles ever sketched
the form and figure of a human body in such a perfect way as to compare
with the mental image formed in prayer.”
Erasmus then passes on to speak at length of what should lie at the
foundation of all true devotion to the saints. The spirit which
actuates is that which matters. To put up candles to images of the
saints and not to observe God’s laws; to fast and to abstain and not to
set a guard on the tongue, to give way to detraction and evil speaking
of all kinds; to wear the religious habit and to live the life of a
worldling under it; to build churches and not to build up the soul;
to keep Sunday observances externally but not to mind what the spirit
gives way to--these are the things that really matter. “By your lips
you bless and in your heart you curse. Your body is shut up in a narrow
cell, and in thought you wander over the whole world. You listen to
God’s word with the ears of your body; it would be more to the purpose
if you listened inwardly. What doth it profit not to do the evil which
you desire to accomplish? What doth it profit to do good outwardly and
to do the opposite inwardly? Is it much to go to Jerusalem in the body
when in the spirit it is to thee but Sodom and Egypt and Babylon?”[396]
In his tract _De amabili Ecclesiæ concordia_, printed in 1533, Erasmus
lays down the same principle. It is, he writes, a pious and good thing
to believe that the saints who have worked miracles in the time of
their lives on earth, can help us now that they are in heaven. As long
as there is no danger of real superstition, it is absurd to try to
prevent people invoking the saints. Though superstition in the cultus
of the saints is, of course, to be prevented, “the pious and simple
affection is sometimes to be allowed even if it be mixed with some
error.” As for the representations of the saints in churches, those
who disapprove of them should not for that reason “blame those who,
without superstition, venerate these images for the love of those they
represent, just as a newly-married woman kisses a ring or present left
or sent by her absent spouse out of affection for him.” Such affection
cannot be displeasing to God, since it comes not from superstition, but
from an abundance of affectionate feeling, and exactly the same view
should be taken of the true devotion shown to the relics of the saints,
provided that it be ever borne in mind that the highest honour that can
be paid to them consists in imitation of their lives.
Considering the importance of “indulgences” or “pardons,” as they were
frequently called, in the Reformation controversies, it is curious
that very little is made of them in the literature of the period
preceding the religious changes. If we except the works of professed
followers of Luther, there is hardly any trace of serious objection
being raised to the fundamental idea of “indulgences” in their true
sense. Here and there may be found indications of some objection to
certain abuses which had been allowed to creep into the system, but
these proceeded from loyal sons of the Church rather than from those
ill affected to the existing ecclesiastical authority, or those who
desired to see the abolition of all such grants of spiritual favours.
The lawyer Saint-German, for instance, may be taken as an example
of the acute layman, who, although professing to be a Catholic and
an obedient son of the Church, was credited by his contemporaries
with holding advanced if not somewhat heterodox views on certain
matters of current controversy. What he has to say about “pardons”
and “indulgences” is neither very startling nor indeed very different
from what all serious-minded churchmen of that day held. He considered
that the people generally were shocked at finding “the Pope and other
spiritual rulers” granting “pardons” for the payment of money. This,
he considered, had been brought prominently into notice at the time he
was writing, by the indulgences granted to those who should contribute
to the building of St. Peter’s when “it has appeared after, evidently
that it has not been disposed to that use. And that has caused many to
think that the said pardons were granted rather of covetousness than of
charity, or for the health of the souls of the people. And thereupon
some have fallen in a manner into despising ‘pardons’ as though pardons
granted upon such covetousness would not avail … and verily it were a
great pity that any misliking of pardons should grow in the hearts of
the people for any misdemeanour in the grantor or otherwise, for they
are right necessary. And I suppose that if certain pardons were granted
freely without money, for the saying of certain appointed prayers, then
all misliking of pardons would shortly cease and vanish away.”[397]
Christopher Saint-German speaks much in the same way as to the evil of
connecting payment of money with the granting of indulgences, in the
work in connection with which his name is chiefly known, _A Dyaloge in
English between a Student and a Doctor of Divinity_. “If it were so
ordered by the Pope,” he writes, “that there might be certain general
pardons of full remission in diverse parts of the realm, which the
people might have for saying certain orisons and prayers without paying
any money for it, it is not unlikely that in a short time there would
be very few that would find any fault with ‘pardons.’ For verily it is
a great comfort to all Christian people to remember that our Lord loved
His people so much that to their relief and comfort leave behind Him so
great a treasure as is the power to grant pardons, which, as I suppose,
next unto the treasure of His precious body in the Sacrament of the
altar, may be accounted among the greatest, and therefore he would
labour greatly to his own hurt and to the great heaviness of all others
also who would endeavour to prove that there was no such power left by
God.”[398]
In the literature of the period, it must be remembered, there is
nothing to show that the true nature of a “pardon” or indulgence was
not fully and commonly understood. There is no evidence that it was
in any way interpreted as a remission of sin, still less that any one
was foolish enough to regard it as permission to commit this or that
offence against God. Tyndale, indeed, had suggested that by purchasing
an indulgence “thou mayest quench almost the terrible fire of hell for
three halfpence.” But Sir Thomas More meets the point directly. “Nay,
surely,” he says, “that fire is not so lightly quenched that folk upon
the boldness of pardons should stand out of the fear of purgatory.
For though the sacrament of penance is able to put away the eternal
(nature) of the pain, yet the party for all that has cause to fear both
purgatory and hell too, lest some default on his own part prevented God
working such grace in him in the Sacrament as should serve for this.
So, though the pardon be able to discharge a man of purgatory, yet
there may be such default in the party to whom the pardon is granted
that although instead of three halfpence he gives three hundred pounds,
still he may receive no pardon at all, and therefore he cannot be out
of fear of purgatory, but ever has cause to fear it. For no man without
a revelation can be sure whether he be partaker of the pardon or not,
though he may have and ought to have both in that and every good thing
good hope.”[399]
Bishop Gardiner in 1546, in writing against George Joye, incidentally
makes use of some strong expressions about the granting of pardons
for the payment of money, and blames the friars as being instrumental
in spreading them. He has been asserting that by every means in his
power the devil, now in one way and now in another, attempts to prevent
men from practising the good works necessary for salvation. “For that
purpose,” he says, “he procured out pardons from Rome, wherein heaven
was sold for a little money, and to retail that merchandise the devil
used friars for his ministers. Now they be all gone with all their
trumpery; but the devil is not yet gone, for now the cry is that
‘heaven needs no works at all, but only belief, only, only, and nothing
else.’”[400]
This, after all, was very little more than the abuse which previously
was pointed out by the cardinal who, conjointly with Cardinal Caraffa,
afterwards Pope Paul IV., had been directed to draw up suggestions for
improvement of ecclesiastical discipline. The document drawn up by
Caraffa himself was submitted to the Pope by his command, and amongst
the points which were declared to need correction were the granting
of indulgences for money payments and permission given to travelling
collectors, such as the Questors of the Holy Spirit, &c., to bestow
“pardons” in return for subscriptions. This, in the judgment of the
four cardinals, is likely to lead to misunderstandings as to the real
nature of the indulgences granted, to deceive rustic minds, and to give
rise to all manner of superstitions.[401]
Cardinal Sadolet, one of the four cardinals who formed the Papal
Commission just referred to, in an appeal to the German princes makes
the same adverse criticism about the money payments received for the
granting of indulgences. “The whole of Germany,” he says, “has been
convulsed by the indulgences granted by Pope Leo. X. to those who would
contribute to the building of St. Peter’s. These indulgences,” he says,
“and consequently the agents in distributing them, I do not now defend.
And I remember that, as far as my position and honour would then allow,
I spoke against them when those decrees were published, and when my
opinion had no effect I was greatly grieved.” He did not, he continued,
doubt the power of the Pope in granting the indulgences, but held that
“in giving them, the manner now insisted on with every care by the
supreme Pontiff, Paul III., ought to be maintained, namely, that they
should be granted freely, and that there should be no mention of money
in regard to them. The loving-kindness and mercy of God should not be
sold for money, and if anything be asked for at the time, it should be
requested as a work of piety.”[402]
The above will show that earnest-minded men were fully alive to the
abuses which might be connected with the granting of indulgences,
and no condemnation could have been stronger than that formulated by
the Council of Trent. At the same time, it is clear that the abuses
of the system were, so far as England at least is concerned, neither
widespread nor obvious. The silence of Sir Thomas More on the matter,
and the very mild representations of his adversary, Christopher
Saint-German, show that this is the case. Saint-German’s objection was
not against the system, but against the same kind of abuses against
which subsequently the Fathers of Trent legislated. The reformers
attacked not the abuses only but the whole system, and their language
has quite unjustly been frequently interpreted by subsequent writers
as evidence of the existence everywhere of widespread abuses. In this
regard it is well to bear in mind that the translation of the works
of the German reformers into English cannot be taken as contemporary
evidence for England itself.
The cry of the advanced party which would sweep away every vestige of
the old religious observances was certainly not popular. One example of
a testimony to the general feeling in London is given in a little work
printed by one of the reforming party in 1542, when it was found that
Henry VIII. did not advance along the path of reformation marked out by
the foreign followers of Luther as quickly as his rejection of papal
supremacy and the overthrow of the religious houses had caused some
people to hope. The tract in question is called _The lamentation of a
Christian against the Citie of London, made by Roderigo Mors_,[403] and
some quotations from it will show what view an ardent reformer took
of the spirit of Londoners towards the new doctrines. “The greater
part of these inordinate rich, stiff-necked citizens,” he writes,
“will not have in their houses that lively word of our souls[404] nor
suffer their servants to have it, neither yet (will they) gladly read
it or hear it read, but abhors and disdains all those who would live
according to the Gospel, and instead thereof they set up and maintain
idolatry and other innumerable wickedness of man’s invention daily
committed in the city of London.
“The greatest part of the seniors and aldermen, with the multitude
of the inordinate rich … with the greatest multitude of thee, O city
of London, take the part and be fully bent with the false prophets,
the bishops and other strong, stout, and sturdy priests of Baal, to
persecute unto death all and every godly person who either preaches
the word or setteth it forth in writing … O Lord! how blind are
these citizens who take so good care to provide for the dead which
is not commanded of them nor availeth the dead.[405]… When they feel
themselves worthily plagued, which comes of Thee only, then they will
run a-gadding after their false prophets through the streets once or
twice a week, crying and calling to creatures of the Creator, or with
_ora pro nobis_, and that in a tongue which the greatest part of them
understand not, unto Peter, Paul, James and John, Mary and Martha: and
I think within a few years they will (without Thy great mercy) call
upon Thomas Wolsey, late Cardinal, and upon the unholy (or as they
would say holy) maid of Kent. Why not, as well as upon Thomas Becket?
What he was, I need not write. It is well known.[406]
“And think ye not that if the Blessed Virgin Mary were now upon earth
and saw her Son and only Redeemer robbed of His glory, which glory, you
blind citizens give to her, would she not rend her clothes like as did
the Apostles, for offering oblations with their forefathers’ kings’
heads unto the Queen of Heaven? How many queens of Heaven have ye in
the Litany? O! dear brethren, be no longer deceived with these false
prophets your bishops and their members.”[407]
“The great substance which you bestow upon chantries, obits, and such
like dregs of … Rome, which most commonly ye give for three causes, as
ye say, first, that you will have the service of God maintained in the
church to God’s honour, and yet by the same service is God dishonoured,
for the Supper of the Lord is perverted and not used after Christ’s
institution … and the holy memory turned into a vain superstitious
ceremonial Mass, as they call it, which Mass is an abominable idol, and
of all idols the greatest; and never shall idolatry be quenched where
that idol is used after antichrist’s institution … which no doubt shall
be reformed when the time is come that God hath appointed, even as it
is already in divers cities of Germany, as Zurich, Basle, and Strasburg
and such other.”
“The second cause is for redeeming your souls and your friends, which
is also abominable.… The idolator nowadays, if he set a candle before
an image and idol, he says he does not worship the image, but God it
represents. For say they, who is so foolish as to worship an image? The
third cause of your good intent is that the profit of your goods may
come to the priests; as though they were the peculiar people of God and
only beloved; as indeed to those who preach the Gospel the people are
bound to give sufficient living … but not that their prayers can help
the dead no more than a man’s breath blowing a sail can cause a great
ship to sail. So is this also become an abomination, for those be not
Christ’s ministers, but the ministers of a rabble of dirty traditions
and popish ceremonies, and you find a sort of lusty lubbers who are
well able to labour for their living and strong to get it with the
sweat of their face.”[408]
“… O ye citizens, if ye would turn but even the profits of your
chantries and obits to the finding of the poor, what a politic and
goodly provision! whereas now London being one of the flowers of the
world as touching worldly riches hath so many, yea innumerable poor
people, forced to go from door to door and to sit openly in the streets
begging, and many not able to do otherwise but lie in their houses in
most grievous pains and die for lack of the aid of the rich, to the
great shame of thee, oh London!”[409]
After exclaiming against the amount of money spent by the authorities
of the city of London on civic entertainments, and railing against the
support given to “the Mass of Scala cœli, of the Five wounds, and other
such like trumpery,” our author continues: “Have you not slain the
servants of the Lord, only for speaking against the authority of the
false bishop of Rome, that monstrous beast, whom now you yourselves do,
or should, abhor? I mean all his laws being contrary to Christ and not
His body, and yet you see that a few years past you burnt for heretics
abominable those who preached or wrote against his usurped power, and
now it is treason to uphold or maintain any part of his usurped power,
and he shall die as a traitor who does so, and well worthy.”[410]
After declaiming against the Mass and confession, and declaring that
the bishops and cathedral churches should be despoiled of their wealth
as their “companions and brethren in antichrist, the abbots” had been,
the author of the tract goes on: “God gave the king a heart to take the
wicked mammon from you, as he may rightfully do with the consent of the
Commons by Act of Parliament, so that it may be disposed of according
to God’s glory and the commonwealth, and to take himself as portion, as
(say) eight or ten of every hundred, for an acknowledgment of obedience
and for the maintenance of his estate. The rest politically to be put
into a commonwealth, first distributed among all the towns in England
in sums according to the quantity and number of the occupiers and where
most need is, and all the towns to be bound to the king so that he may
have the money at his extreme need to serve him, he rendering it again.
And also a politic way (should be) taken for provision of the poor in
every town, with some part to the marriage of young persons that lack
friends.”[411]
The bishops the writer considers to be the greatest obstacles to the
reformation of religion in England on the model of what had already
taken place in Germany. “You wicked mammon,” he continues, “your
inordinate riches was not of your heavenly Father’s planting; therefore
it must be plucked up by the roots with the riches of your other
brethren of the Romish church or church malignant, which of late were
rightfully plucked up. I would to God that the distribution of the
same lands and goods had been as godly distributed as the act of the
rooting up was; which distribution of the same I dare say all Christian
hearts lament. For the fat swine only were greased, but the poor sheep
to whom that thing belonged had least or nothing at all. The fault
will be laid to those of the Parliament House, especially to those who
bear the greatest swing. Well, I touch this matter here, to exhort
all that love God’s word unfeignedly to be diligent in prayer only to
God to endue the Lords, Knights, and Burgesses of the next Parliament
with His spirit, that the lands and goods of these bishops may be put
to a better use, as to God’s glory, the wealth of the commonalty and
provision for the poor.”[412]
The above lengthy extracts will show what the advanced spirits among
the English followers of Luther hoped for from the religious revolution
which had already, when the tract was written, been begun. It will also
serve to show that even in London, which may be supposed to have been
in the forefront of the movement, the religious changes were by no
means popular; but the civic authorities and people clung to the old
faith and traditions, which the author well and tersely describes as
“the Romish religion.”
* * * * *
The readers of the foregoing pages will see that no attempt has been
made to draw a definite conclusion from the facts set down, or expound
the causes of the ultimate triumph of the Reformation principles
in England. It has already been pointed out that the time for a
satisfactory synthesis is not yet come; but it may not be unnecessary
to deprecate impatience to reach an ultimate judgment.
The necessary assumption which underlies the inherited Protestant
history of the Reformation in the sixteenth century is the general
corruption of manners and morals no less than of doctrine, and the
ignorance of religious truths no less than the neglect of religious
precepts on the part of both clergy and people. On such a basis nothing
can be easier and simpler than to account for the issue of the English
religious changes. The revival of historical studies and the alienation
of the minds of many historians from traditional Christianity, whether
in its Catholic or Protestant form, has, however, thrown doubt on this
great fundamental assumption--a doubt that will be strengthened the
more the actual conditions of the case are impartially and thoroughly
investigated. Many of the genuine sources of history have only within
this generation become really accessible; what was previously known has
been more carefully examined and sifted, whilst men have begun to see
that if the truth is to be ascertained inquiries must be pursued in
detail within local limits, and that it does not suffice to speak in
general terms of “the corrupt state of the Church.”
If we are to know the real factors of the problem to be solved,
separate investigations have to be pursued which lead to very varying
conclusions as to the state of the Church, the ecclesiastical life and
the religious practices of the people in different countries. It is
already evident that the corruptions or the virtues prevailing in one
quarter must not straightway be credited to the account of another;
that the reason why one country has become Protestant, or another
remained Catholic, has to be sought for in each case, and that it may
be safely asserted that the maintenance of Catholicity or the adoption
of Protestantism in different regions, had comparatively little to do
with prevalence or absence of abuses, or as little depended on the
question whether these were more or less grievous.
Unquestionably those who desire to have a ready explanation of great
historical movements or revolutions, find themselves increasingly
baulked in the particular case of the Reformation by the new turn
which modern historical research has given to the consideration of
the question. Recent attempts to piece up the new results with the
old views afford a warning against precipitation, and have but shown
that the explanation of the successful issue of the Reformation
in England is a problem less simple or obvious than many popular
writers have hitherto assumed. The factors are clearly seen now to
be many--sometimes accidental, sometimes strongly personal--whilst
aspirations after worldly commodities, though destined not to be
realised for the many, were often and in the most influential quarters
a stronger determinant to acquiescence or active co-operation in the
movement than thirst after pure doctrine, love of the open Bible,
or desire for a vernacular liturgy. The first condition for the
understanding of the problem at all is the most careful and detailed
examination possible of the state of popular religion during the
whole of the century which witnessed the change, quite apart from the
particular political methods employed to effect the transition from the
public teaching of the old faith, as it was professed in the closing
years of the reign of Henry VIII., and the new as it was officially
practised a dozen years after Elizabeth had held the reins of power.
The interest of the questions discussed in the present volume is by
no means exclusively, perhaps to some persons is even by no means
predominantly, a religious one. It has been insisted upon in the
preceding pages that religion on the eve of the Reformation was
intimately bound up with the whole social life of the people, animating
it and penetrating it at every point. No one who is acquainted with the
history of later centuries in England can doubt for a moment that the
religion then professed presented in this respect a contrast to the
older faith; or as some writers may put it, religion became restricted
to what belongs to the technically “religious” sphere. But this was not
confined to England, or even to Protestant countries. Everywhere, it
may be said, in the centuries subsequent to the religious revolution
of the sixteenth century, religion became less directly social in its
action; and if the action and interference of what is now called the
State in every department of social life is continually extending,
this may not inaptly be said to be due to the fact that it has largely
taken up the direct social work and direction from which the Church
found herself perhaps compelled to recede, in order to concentrate her
efforts more intensely on the promotion of more purely and strictly
religious influences. It is impossible to study the available sources
of information about the period immediately preceding the change
without recognising that, so far from the Church being a merely effete
or corrupt agency in the commonwealth, it was an active power for
popular good in a very wide sense. At any rate, whatever view we may
take of the results of the Reformation, to understand rightly the
conditions of religious thought and life on the eve of the religious
revolution, is a condition of being able really to read aright our own
time and to gauge the extent to which present tendencies find their
root or their justification in the past.
FOOTNOTES
[1] _Opera_ (ed. Frankfort), tom. x. p. 56, quoted by Janssen.
[2] J. L. Andre, in _Sussex Archæological Journal_, xxxix. p. 31.
[3] The use of the expression “New Learning” as meaning the revival of
letters is now so common that any instance of it may seem superfluous.
Green, for example, in his _History of the English People_, vol. ii.
constantly speaks of it. Thus (p. 81), “Erasmus embodied for the
Teutonic peoples the quickening influence of the New Learning during
the long scholar-life which began at Paris and ended amidst sorrow at
Basle.” Again (p. 84), “the group of scholars who represented the New
Learning in England.” Again (p. 86), “On the universities the influence
of the New Learning was like a passing from death to life.” Again (p.
125), “As yet the New Learning, though scared by Luther’s intemperate
language, had steadily backed him in his struggle.”
[4] _Sermons._ London: Robert Caly, 1557, p. 36.
[5] _The Praier and Complaynte of the Ploweman unto Christ_, sig. Aij.
[6] R. V. _The olde Faith of Great Brittayne, &c._--The style of
the book may be judged by the following passages:--“How say you (O
ye popish bishops and priests which maintain Austen’s dampnable
ceremonies)--For truly so long as ye say masse and lift the bread and
wine above your heads, giving the people to understand your mass to be
available for the quick and the dead, ye deny the Lord that bought you;
therefore let the mass go again to Rome, with all Austen’s trinkets,
and cleave to the Lord’s Supper”.… Again:--“Gentle reader: It is not
unknown what an occasion of sclander divers have taken in that the
king’s majesty hath with his honourable council gone about to alter and
take away the abuse of the communion used in the mass.… The ignorant
and unlearned esteem the same abuse, called the mass, to be the
principal point of Christianity, to whom the altering thereof appears
very strange.… Our popish priests still do abuse the Lord’s Supper
or Communion, calling it still a new name of _Missa_ or Mass.” The
author strongly objects to those like Bishop Gardiner and Dr. Smythe
who have written in defence of the old doctrine of the English Church
on the Blessed Sacrament: “Yea, even the mass, which is a derogation
of Christ’s blood. For Christ left the sacrament of his body and blood
in bread and wine to be eaten and drunk in remembrance of his death,
and not to be looked upon as the Israelites did the brazen serpent.…
Paul saith not, as often as the priest lifts the bread and wine above
his shaven crown, for the papists to gaze at.” All this, as “the New
Learning” brought over to England by St. Augustine of Canterbury, the
author would send back to Rome from whence it came.
[7] Urbanus Regius, _A comparison betwene the old learnynge and the
newe_, translated by William Turner. Southwark: Nicholson, 1537, sig.
Aij to Cvij.
[8] _Opera_ (ed. Le Clerc), Ep. 583.
[9] Ibid., Ep. 751.
[10] Remigio Sabbadini, _La Scuola e gli studi di Guarino Guarini
Veronese_, pp. 217-18.
[11] R. Sabbadini, _Guarino Veronese et il suo epistolario_, p. 57.
[12] The Earl was a confrater and special friend of the monks of
Christchurch, Canterbury. In 1468-69, Prior Goldstone wrote to the
Earl, who had been abroad “on pilgrimage” for four years, to try and
obtain for Canterbury the usual jubilee privileges of 1470. In his Obit
in the Canterbury _Necrology_ (MS. Arund. 68 f. 45d) he is described
as “vir undecumque doctissimus, omnium liberalium artium divinarumque
simul ac secularium litterarum scientia peritissimus.”
[13] Leland (_De Scriptoribus Britannicis_, 482) calls him Tillœus,
and this has been generally translated as Tilly. In the _Canterbury
Letter Books_ (Rolls Series, iii. 291) it appears that Prior Selling
was greatly interested in a boy named Richard Tyll. In 1475, Thomas
Goldstone, the warden of Canterbury Hall, writes to Prior Selling
about new clothes and a tunic and other expenses “scolaris tui Ricardi
Tyll.” In the same volume, p. 315, is a letter of fraternity given to
“Agnes, widow of William Tyll,” and on February 7, 1491, she received
permission to be buried where her husband, William Tyll, had been
interred, “juxta tumbam sancti Thomæ martyris.”
[14] _Canterbury Letters_ (Camden Soc.), pp. 13, 15.
[15] C. C. C. C. MS. 417 f. 54d: “Item hoc anno videlicet 6 Kal. Oct.
D. Willms Selling celebravit primam suam missam et fuit sacerdos summæ
missæ per totam illam ebdomadam.”
[16] _Literæ Cantuarr._ (Rolls Series), iii. 239.
[17] Leland, _De Scriptoribus Britannicis_, p. 482. _Cf._ also
_Canterbury Letters_ (Camden Soc.), p. xxvii.
[18] Leland, _ut supra_.
[19] Umberto Dallari, _I rotuli dei Lettori, &c., dello studio
Bolognese dal 1384 al 1799_, p. 51.
[20] Serafino Mazzetti, _Memorie storiche sopra l’università di
Bologna_, p. 308.
[21] Leland, _ut supra_.
[22] B. Mus. Arundel MS. 68, f. 4. The Obit in Christchurch MS. D. 12,
says: “Sacræ Theologiæ Doctor. Hic in divinis agendis multum devotus et
lingua Græca et Latina valde eruditus.… O quam laudabiliter se habuit
opera merito laudanda manifesto declarant.”
[23] In the Canterbury Registers (Reg. R.) there is a record which
evidently relates to Selling’s previous stay in Rome as a student.
On October 3, 1469, the date of Selling’s second departure for Rome,
the Prior and convent of Christchurch granted a letter to Pietro dei
Milleni, a citizen of Rome, making him a _confrater_ of the monastery
in return for the kindness shown to Dr. William Selling, when in the
Eternal City. This letter, doubtless, Selling carried with him in 1469.
[24] _The Old English Bible and other Essays_, p. 306.
[25] B. Mus. Cotton MS. Julius F. vii., f. 118.
[26] One of Prior Selling’s first acts of administration was apparently
to procure a master for the grammar school at Canterbury. He writes
to the Archbishop: “Also please it your good faderhood to have in
knowledge that according to your commandment, I have provided for a
schoolmaster for your gramerscole in Canterbury, the which hath lately
taught gramer at Wynchester and atte Seynt Antonyes in London. That,
as I trust to God, shall so guide him that it shall be worship and
pleasure to your Lordship and profit and encreas to them that he shall
have in governance.”--_Hist. MSS. Com._ 9th Report, App. p. 105.
[27] I. Noble Johnson, _Life of Linacre_, p. 11. Among the great
benefactors to Canterbury College, Oxford, was Doctor Thomas
Chaundeler, Warden of New College. In 1473, the year after the election
of Prior Selling, the Chapter of Christchurch, Canterbury, passed a
resolution that, in memory of his great benefits to them, his name
should be mentioned daily in the conventual mass at Canterbury, and
that at dinner each day at Oxford he should be named as founder.
[28] Galeni, _De Temperamentis libri tres, Thoma Linacro
interpretante_, is dedicated to Pope Leo X., with a letter from Linacre
dated 1521. “The widow’s mite was approved by Him whose vicar on earth”
Pope Leo is, so this book is only intended to recall common studies,
though in itself of little interest to one having the care of the world.
[29] G. Lilii, _Elogia_, ed. P. Jovii, p. 91.
[30] Ibid., lxiii. p. 145.
[31] Sir Thomas More writing to Colet says: “I pass my time here (at
Oxford) with Grocyn, Linacre, and our (George) Lilly: the first as
you know the only master of my life, when you are absent; the second,
the director of my studies; the third, my dearest companion in all
the affairs of life” (J. Stapleton, _Tres Thomæ_, p. 165.) Another
constant companion of More at Oxford was Cuthbert Tunstall, one of the
most learned men of his day, afterwards in succession Bishop of London
and Durham. Tunstall dedicated to More his tract _De arte supputandi_,
which he printed at Paris in 1529.
[32] Reg. Warham, in Knight’s _Erasmus_, p. 22 _note_.
[33] Encyclop. Brit. _sub nomine_.
[34] Ibid.
[35] Ugo Balzani, _Un’ ambasciata inglese a Roma_, Società Romana di
storia patria, iii. p. 175 _seqq._ Of this an epitome is given in
Bacon’s _Henry VII._, p. 95. Count Ugo Balzani says: “Il prior di
Canterbury sembra essere veramente stato l’anima dell’ ambasciata.”
Burchardus, _Rerum Urbanarum Commentarii_ (ed. Thuasne), i. p. 257,
gives a full account of the reception of this embassy in Rome and by
the Pope.
[36] Harl. MS. 6237, and Add. MS. 15,673.
[37] In the same beautifully written volume is a printed tract
addressed to the Venetian Senate in 1471 against princes taking church
property. The tract had been sent to the Prior of Christchurch by
Christopher Urswick, with a letter, in which, to induce him to read it,
he says it is approved by Hermolaus Barbarus and Guarini. Christopher
Urswick was almoner to Henry VII., and to him Erasmus dedicated three
of his works.
[38] Leland, _De Scriptoribus Britannicis_, 482.
[39] This information I owe to the kindness of Dr. Montague James.
[40] _Canterbury Letters_ (Camden Soc.), p. xxvii.
[41] Ibid., p. 36, a letter in which Dr. Langton asks Prior Selling to
“attend to the drawing of it.” The draft sermon is in Cleop. A. iii.
[42] Richard Pace, _De Fructu_, p. 27. The work _De Fructu_ was
composed at Constance, where Pace was ambassador, and where he had met
his old master, Paul Bombasius. He dedicates the tract to Colet, who
had done so much to introduce true classical Latin into England, in
place of the barbarous language formerly used. The work was suggested
to him by a conversation he had in England two years before, on his
return from Rome, with a gentleman he met at dinner, who strongly
objected to a literary education for his children, on the ground that
he disapproved of certain expressions made use of by Erasmus. The tract
shows on what a very intimate footing Pace was with Bombasius.
[43] _De Fructu_, p. 99. Pace published at Venice in 1522, _Plutarchi
Cheronei Opuscula_, and dedicated the work to Bishop Tunstall. He
reminds the bishop of their old student days, and says the translation
has been examined by their “old master, Nicholas Leonicus.”
[44] Ibid.
[45] Ibid.
[46] Ibid., p. 51. “Quas vocant proportionum inductiones … antiquitatem
superasse.”
[47] More to the University of Oxford, in Knight’s _Erasmus_, p. 31.
[48] Bishop Fisher’s love and zeal for learning is notorious. He did
all in his power to assist in the foundation of schools of sound
learning at Cambridge, and especially to encourage the study of Greek.
Richard Croke, the protégé of Archbishop Warham and Bishop Fisher,
after teaching Greek in 1516 at Leipzig, was sent by Fisher in 1519 to
Cambridge to urge the utility of Greek studies at that university. In
the _Orationes_ he delivered there, after speaking of the importance of
Greek for all Biblical study, he says that Oxford had taken up the work
with great avidity, since “they have there as their patrons besides
the Cardinal (Wolsey), Canterbury (Warham), and Winchester, all the
other English bishops except the one who has always been your great
stay and helper, the Bishop of Rochester, and the Bishop of Ely.” It
was entirely owing to Bishop Fisher’s generosity, and at his special
request, that Croke had gone to Cambridge rather than to Oxford,
whither his connection with Warham, More, Linacre, and Grocyn would
have led him, in order to carry on the work begun by Erasmus.
[49] Thomas Lupset was educated by Colet, and learnt his Latin and
Greek under William Lilly, going afterwards to Oxford. There he made
the acquaintance of Ludovico Vives, and at his exhortation went to
Italy. He joined Reginald Pole in his studies at Padua, and on his
return, after acting as Thomas Winter’s tutor in Paris, he held a
position first as a teacher and then in Cardinal Wolsey’s household.
In his _Exhortation to Young Men_, persuading them to a good life,
“written at More, a place of my Lord Cardinal’s,” in 1529, he gives a
charming account of his relation with a former pupil. “It happeneth,”
he says, “at this time (my heartily beloved Edmund) that I am in such
a place where I have no manner of books with me to pass the time after
my manner and custom. And though I had here with me plenty of books,
yet the place suffereth me not to spend in them any study. For you
shall understand that I lie waiting on my Lord Cardinal, whose hours
I must observe, to be always at hand lest I be called when I am not
bye, which would be straight taken for a fault of great negligence. I
am well satiated with the beholding of these gay hangings that garnish
here every wall.” As a relief he turns to address his young friend
Edmund. Probably Edmund doesn’t understand his affection, because he
had always acted on the principle he has “been taught, that the master
never hurteth his scholar more than when he uttereth and sheweth by
cherishing and cokering the love he beareth to his scholars.” Edmund is
now “of age, and also by the common board of houseling admitted into
the number of men, and to be no more in the company of children,” and
so now he can make known his affection. “This mind had I to my friend
Andrew Smith, whose son Christopher, your fellow, I ever took for my
son.… If you will call to your mind all the frays between you and
me, or me and Smith, you will find that they were all out of my care
for ‘your manners.’ When I saw certain fantasies in you or him that
jarred from true opinions, the which true opinions, above all learning,
I would have masters ever teach their scholars. Wherefore, my good
withipol, take heed of my lesson.”
[50] John Clement, a protégé of Sir Thomas More, was afterwards a
doctor of renown not only in medicine but in languages. He had been
a member of More’s household, which Erasmus speaks of as “schola et
gymnasium Christianæ religionis.” He is named at the beginning of the
_Eutopia_, and Sir Thomas, in writing to Erasmus, says that Linacre
declared that he had had no pupil at Oxford equal to him. John Clement
translated several ancient Greek authors into Latin, amongst others
many letters of St. Gregory Nazianzen and the Homilies of Nicephorus
Callistus on the Saints of the Greek Calendar. Stapleton, in his
_Tres Thomæ_ (p. 250), says he had himself seen and examined with the
originals these two voluminous translations at the request of John
Clement himself. He had married Margaret, the ward of Sir Thomas More,
and in the most difficult places of his translation he was helped by
his wife, who, with the daughters of Sir Thomas, had been his disciple
and knew Greek well. Mary Roper, More’s granddaughter, and the daughter
of Margaret Roper, translated Eusebius’s _History_ from Greek into
Latin, but it was never published, because Bishop Christopherson had
been at work on a similar translation. On the change of religion
in Elizabeth’s reign, John Clement and his wife, with the Ropers,
took refuge in the Low Countries. Paulus Jovius, in his _Descriptio
Britanniæ_, p. 13, speaks of all three daughters of Sir Thomas More
being celebrated for their knowledge of Latin.
[51] Erasmi _Opera_ (ed. 1703), Col. 40.
[52] Ibid., Ep. 241.
[53] Ibid., Ep. 363.
[54] To take one example, Thomas Millyng, who as Bishop of Hereford
died in 1492, had studied at Gloucester Hall, Oxford, as a monk of
Westminster. During the old age of Abbot Fleet, of Westminster, he
governed the monastery, and became its abbot in 1465. He was noted
for his love of studies, and especially for his knowledge of Greek.
This, says the writer of his brief life in the _National Biographical
Dictionary_, was “a rare accomplishment for _monks_ in those days.” He
might have added, and for any one else!
[55] Dennistoun, _Memorials of the Dukes of Urbino_, iii., pp. 415
_seqq._
[56] Erasmus to Abbot Bere. _Opera_, Ep. 700.
[57] MS. Bodl. 80. It is the autograph copy of Free, _cf._ J. W.
Williams, _Somerset Mediæval Libraries_, p. 87. It was Abbot Bere
who, in 1506, presented John Claymond, the learned Greek scholar, to
his first benefice of Westmonkton, in the county of Somerset. In 1516
Claymond became first President of Corpus Christi College, Oxford,
often after signing himself, _Eucharistiæ servus_. Dr. Claymond
procured for his college several Greek manuscripts which had belonged
to Grocyn and Linacre, which are still possessed by it. At the end
of MS. XXIII., which is a volume containing ninety homilies of St.
John Chrysostom in Greek, is an inscription stating that this, and
MS. XXIV., were copied in the years 1499 and 1500 by a Greek from
Constantinople, named John Serbopylas, then living and working at
Reading.
[58] Ludovico Vives had been invited over to England by Cardinal Wolsey
to lecture on rhetoric at Oxford. He lived at Corpus Christi College,
then ruled by Dr. John Claymond, whom in his tract _De conscribendis
Epistolis_ he calls his “father.” The fame of this Spanish master of
eloquence drew crowds to his lectures at the university, and amongst
the audience Henry and Queen Katherine might sometimes be seen. For a
time he acted also as tutor to the Princess Mary, and dedicated several
works to the queen, to whose generosity he says he owed much. He took
her side in the “divorce” question, and was thrown into prison for
some weeks for expressing his views on the matter. Fisher, More, and
Tunstall were his constant friends in England, and of Margaret Roper
he writes, “from the time I first made her acquaintance I have loved
her as a sister.” Among his pupils at Louvain, besides the above-named
Canterbury monk, John Digon, he mentions with great affection Nicholas
Wotton, whom the antiquary Twyne speaks of as returning to England with
Digon and Jerome Ruffaldus, who calls Vives his “Jonathan,” and who
subsequently became abbot of St. Vaast, Arras.
[59] J. Venn, _Gonville and Caius College_ (1349-1897), Vol. I.
[60] Ibid., p. xvi.
[61] Ibid., p. 18.
[62] Ibid., p. 23.
[63] Ibid., p. 21.
[64] Ibid., p. xviii.
[65] _Sermons_ (1557), f. 54.
[66] A. Chalmers, _History of the Colleges, &c. of Oxford_, ii. p. 351.
[67] Hearne, _John of Glastonbury_, ii. p. 490; from MS. Cott.
Vitellius c. vii.
[68] Saint-German was born 1460. He was employed by Thomas Cromwell
on some business of the State, and died in 1540. The _Dyalogue_ was
printed apparently first in Latin, but subsequently in English. It
consisted of three parts (1) published by Robert Wyer, (2) by Peter
Treveris, 1531, and (3) by Thomas Berthalet, also in 1531.
[69] _Dyalogue_, _ut sup._, 3rd part, f. 2.
[70] One of the first Acts of King Henry VII. on his accession, was to
obtain from the Pope a Bull agreeing to some changes in the Sanctuary
customs. Prior Selling of Canterbury was despatched as King’s Orator to
Rome with others to Pope Innocent VIII. in 1487, and brought back the
Pope’s approval of three points in which the king proposed to change
these laws. _First_, that if any person in Sanctuary went out at night
and committed mischief and trespass, and then got back again, he should
forfeit his privilege of Sanctuary. _Secondly_, that though the person
of a debtor might be protected in Sanctuary, yet his goods out of the
precincts were not so protected from his creditors. _Thirdly_, that
where a person took Sanctuary for treason, the king might appoint him
keepers within the Sanctuary.
[71] Robert Keilway, _Relationes quorundam casuum_, f. 188, _seqq._
[72] _Dyalogue_, _ut sup._, f. 12.
[73] _Dyalogue_, f. 23.
[74] Ibid.
[75] Ibid., f. 23.
[76] Ibid., f. 21.
[77] Ibid., f. 21.
[78] _A treatyse concerning the power of the clergie and the laws of
the realme._ London, J. Godfray.
[79] _A treatyse_, &c., _ut supra_, cap. 4.
[80] _A treatyse_, &c., _ut supra_, cap. xii.
[81] _A treatyse_, &c., _ut supra_, cap. xii.
[82] Ibid., cap. xiii.
[83] Ibid., cap. vi.
[84] _English Works_ (ed. 1557), p. 1017.
[85] _A treatyse_, &c., _ut sup._, cap. vi., sig. E. i.
[86] _Salem and Bizance, a dialogue betwixte two Englishmen, whereof
one was called Salem and the other Bizance_ (Berthelet, 1533), f. 76.
[87] Ibid., f. 84.
[88] _English Works_, p. 892.
[89] Ibid.
[90] _A Dialogue_, &c., _ut sup._, f. 8.
[91] Ibid., f. 11.
[92] Ibid., f. 14.
[93] _A Dialogue_, &c., _ut sup._, p. 17.
[94] _History of English Law_, i., p. 93-4. Mr. James Gairdner, in
a letter to _The Guardian_, March 1, 1899, says: “There were, in
the Middle Ages, in every kingdom of Europe that owned the Pope’s
jurisdiction, two authorities, the one temporal and the other
spiritual, and the head of the spiritual jurisdiction was at Rome. The
bishops had the rule over their clergy, even in criminal matters, and
over the laity as well in matters of faith. Even a bishop’s decision,
it is true, might be disputed, and there was an appeal to the Pope;
nay, the Pope’s decision might be disputed, and there was an appeal
to a general council. Thus there was, in every kingdom, an _imperium
in imperio_, but nobody objected to such a state of matters, not even
kings, seeing that they could, as a rule, get anything they wanted out
of the Popes--even some things, occasionally, that the Popes ought not
to have conceded.”
[95] William Bond, _The Pilgrymage of perfeccyon_, 1531, f. 223.
[96] Roger Edgworth, _Sermons_, 1557, fol. 102
[97] Edward Powell, _Propugnaculum summi sacerdotii, &c., adversus M.
Lutherum_, 1523, fol. 22 and fol. 35.
[98] _English Works_, p. 171.
[99] Ibid. p. 185.
[100] Ibid., p. 528.
[101] Ibid., p. 538.
[102] _English Works_, p. 616.
[103] Ibid., p. 798.
[104] _Henry VIII. and the English Monasteries_ (popular edition), p.
367.
[105] In his work against Luther, Bishop Fisher teaches the supremacy
of the Pope without any ambiguity. In the _Sermon had at Paulis_
against Luther and his followers, he also put his position perfectly
clearly. The Church that has a right to the name _Catholic_ has derived
the right from its communion with the See of Peter. Our Lord called
Cephas, Peter, or rock, to signify that upon him as a rock He would
build His church. Unto Peter He committed His flock, and “the true
Christian people which we have at this day was derived by a continual
succession from the See of Peter” (fol. e. 4. d.).
[106] Simon Matthew, _Sermon made in the Cathedrall Church of
Saynt-Paule, 27 June 1535_ (Berthelet, 1535).
[107] Joannis Longlondi _Tres conciones_ (R. Pynson), f. 45.
[108] _Assertion of the Seven Sacraments against Luther_ (translation
by J. W., 1687), f. a. i.
[109] _A treatise of the donation or gift and endowment of possessions
given_ (by Constantine) _with the judgement of certain great men_,
1517, Thomas Godfray.
[110] London, Thomas Berthelet.
[111] _A dyalogue_, _ut sup._, ff. 3-7.
[112] f. A. ii.; c. i.; c. iiij. The author recommends those who
would understand the Pope’s power to “resort unto _The glasse of
truth_ or to the book named the _Determinations of the universities_.”
The book named here _A glasse of truth_ is written in favour of the
divorce. “Some lawyers,” the author says, “attribute too much to the
Pope--at length there shall be no law, but only his will.” The work
was published by Berthelet anonymously, but Richard Croke, in a letter
written at this period (Ellis, _Historical Letters_, 3rd series, ii.
195), says that the book was written by King Henry himself. It was
generally said that Henry had written a defence of his divorce; but
Strype did not think it was more than a State paper. Croke (p. 198)
says that people at Oxford, “Mr. John Roper and others,” did not
believe that the king was really the author. He says that the tract has
done more than anything else to get people to take the king’s side.
[113] _Of the olde God and the new_, B. 1. As another sample of what
was at this time said about the Popes, we may take the following:
Rome, says the author, “was by Justinian restored from ruin and decay,
from whence also came the riches of the Church. At the coming of these
riches, forthwith the book of the gospel was shut up, and the Bishops
of Rome, instead of evangelical poverty, began to put forth their heads
garnished with three crowns.” This is taken from the preface of Hartman
Dulechin, who claims to have “taught the book to speak Latin.” It was
originally printed and published in German. The English version is a
translation of the Latin.
[114] _The Defence of Peace, written in Latin more than 200 years ago,
and set forth in the English tongue by Wyllyam Marshall._ R. Wyer,
1535, folio.
[115] _The Defence of Peace_, f. 42. The well-known anti-papal opinions
of Marsilius of Padua are, of course, of no interest in themselves, but
their publication at this time in English shows the methods by which it
was hoped to undermine the Papal authority in the country.
[116] _Exposition_, &c., _ut supra_, f. i.
[117] Johann Sturmius, _Epistle sent to the cardinals and prelates that
were appointed by the Bishop of Rome to search out the abuses of the
Church_. Translated by Richard Morysine. Berthelet, 1538.
A later copy of the _Concilium de emendanda Ecclesia_, printed by
Sturmius with his letter in 1538, in the British Museum, formerly
belonged to Cecil. The title-page has his signature, “Gulielmus
Cecilius, 1540,” and there are marks and words underlined, and some few
observations from his pen in the margin. It is interesting to note that
what struck the statesman as a youth were just the points which could
be turned against the temporal claims of the Roman See.
The special evils needing correction which the committee of cardinals
note, and which they call _abuses_, are collected under 22 headings,
some of which are the following:--
(1) Ordination of priests without cure of souls, not learned, of lower
order in life, and too young and of doubtful morals: They suggest that
each diocese should have a _magistrum_ to see that candidates are
properly instructed--none to be ordained except by their own bishop.
(2) Benefices, and in particular, episcopal sees, are given to people
with interest, and not because their elevation would be good for the
church. They suggest that the best man should be chosen, and residence
should be insisted on, and consequently “non Italo conferendum est
beneficium in Hispania aut in Britannia aut ex contra.”
(3) _Pensions_ reserved from Benefices. Though the Pope, “who is the
universal dispenser of the goods of the church,” may reserve a part for
a pious use, _e.g._ for the poor, &c., still not to reserve sufficient
for the proper purpose of the beneficiary, and still more to give a
pension out of a benefice to one rich enough without, is wrong.
(4) Change of benefices for the sake of gain, and handing on benefices
by arrangement or always assigning episcopal sees to coadjutors, is the
cause of outcry against the clergy, and is in reality making private
property out of what is public.
(5) Permission to clergy to hold more than one benefice.
(6) Cardinals being allowed to hold sees. They ought to be counsellors
to the Pope in Rome, and when holding sees they are more or less
dependent on the will of the kings, and so cannot give independent
advice and speak their minds.
(7) Absence of bishops from their sees.
(8) Such religious houses as needed correction should be forbidden to
profess members, and when they die out, their places should be taken
by fervent religious. Confessors for convents must be approved by the
ordinaries of the place.
(9) The use of the keys ought never, under any pretext, to be granted
for money.
(10) Questors of the Holy Spirit, St. Anthony, &c., who foster
superstition among the poor people, should be prohibited.
(11) Confessional privileges and use of portable altars to be very
rarely allowed.
(12) No indulgences to be granted except once a year, and in the great
cities only.
Finally they say of Rome: “Hæc Romana civitas et ecclesia mater est
et magistra aliarum ecclesiarum,” and hence it should be a model to
all. Foreigners, however, who come to St. Peter’s find that priests
“sordidi, ignari, induti paramentis et vestibus quibus nec in sordidis
ædibus honeste uti possent, missas celebrant.”
Cardinal Sadolet, on receiving a copy of Sturmius’s letter, replied
in kindly terms. He had, he declared, a high opinion of “Sturmius,
Melanchthon, and Bucer, looking on them as most learned men, kindly
disposed, and cordially friendly to him. He looked upon it as the
peculiar characteristic of Luther to try and overwhelm all his
opponents with shouts and attacks.” He speaks of the great piety of
Pope Clement from personal knowledge. His wars were, he said, rather
the work of his adversaries than his own (_De consilio_, ed. J. G.
Schelhorn, 1748, p. 91).
He also, in 1539, penned the _De Christiana Ecclesia_ (in _Specilegium
Romanum_, ii. p. 101 _seqq._), sending it to Cardinal Salicati, and
asking him to pass it on to Cardinal Contarini. It was the outcome
of conversations about the troubles of the Church, and the result of
the movement was the Council of Trent, to restore, as Sadolet says,
ecclesiastical discipline “quæ nunc tota pæne nobis e manibus elapsa
est.”
[118] _Sermon on Palm Sunday_, Berthelet, 1539.
[119] Lancelot Ridley, _Commentary in Englyshe on Sayncte Paule’s
Epystle to the Ephesians_, L. 4.
[120] This important paper was printed for the first time in the
_Dublin Review_, April 1894, pp. 390-420.
[121] _A treatise concerning the division between the spiritualtie and
temporaltie._ London: Robert Redman, f. 2.
[122] _English Works_, p. 871. In the quotations made from the works
of Sir Thomas More and other old writings, for the sake of the general
reader the modern form of spelling has been adopted, and at times the
words transposed to ensure greater clearness.
[123] Ibid., p. 875.
[124] Ibid., p. 882.
[125] _Salem and Bizance. A dialogue betwixte two Englishmen, whereof
one was called Salem and the other Bizance._ London: Berthelet, 1533,
f. 5.
[126] _English Works_, p. 934.
[127] Ibid., p. 870.
[128] Ibid., p. 877.
[129] Ibid., p. 877.
[130] Ibid., p. 878.
[131] Ibid., pp. 937, 938.
[132] _A treatise concerning the division_, f. 8.
[133] _English Works_, p. 880.
[134] Ibid., p. 951.
[135] _A treatise concerning the division_, f. 3.
[136] _A treatise concerning the division_, f. 41.
[137] _English Works_, p. 884.
[138] Ibid., p. 895.
[139] Ibid.
[140] Ibid., p. 896.
[141] Ibid., p. 885.
[142] Bishop Fisher gives much the same testimony to the moral
character of the religious generally in his sermon against Luther.
After praising the state of virginity, he continues: “And it is not to
be doubted but that there is in Christendom at this day many thousands
of religious men and women that full truly keep their religion and
their chastity unto Christ.… If Almighty God did reserve in that
little portion of Jewry so great a multitude beyond the estimation of
the prophet, what number suppose ye doth yet remain in Christendom of
religious men and women, notwithstanding this great persecution of
religious monasteries, both of men and women, done by these heretics
by this most execrable doctrine? It is not to be doubted but in all
Christendom be left many thousands who at this hour live chaste, and
truly keep their virginity unto Christ.” (_A Sermon had at Paulis_,
Berthelet, f. g. ii.)
[143] Ibid., p. 735. Sir Thomas More, in his _Dyalogue_, thinks that
the number of priests without very definite work had tended to diminish
the respect paid to them by the laity. “But were I Pope,” he says, … “I
could not well devise better provisions than by the laws of the Church
are provided already, if they were as well kept as they are well made.
But as for the number, I would surely see such a way therein that we
should not have such a rabble that every mean man must have a priest
in his house to wait upon his wife. This no mean man lacketh now, to
the contempt of the priesthood, (placed) in as vile an office as his
horsekeeper. That is truth indeed, quod he, and in worse, too, for they
keep hawks and dogs.” If the laws of the Church were kept, there would
not be the excessive number of priests for fit and proper positions,
so that “the whole order is rebuked by the priests’ begging and lewd
living who are either obliged to walk as rovers, and live upon trentals
or worse, or serve in a secular man’s house” (_English Works_, p. 223).
[144] _A treatise concerning the division_, ff. 14-16.
[145] _Dyalogue_, &c., f. 2.
[146] _A treatise concerning the division_, f. 23.
[147] Ibid., f. 25.
[148] Ibid., f. 26.
[149] _English Works_, p. 936.
[150] _English Works_, p. 620.
[151] _A Sermonde … made in 1538._ By John Longlande, Bishop of
Lincolne. London: f. 2.
[152] _Henry VIII._, vol. ii. pp. 50-1.
[153] Ibid., vol. i. p. 600.
[154] Ibid., ii. p. 470.
[155] Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. 717.
[156] _Sermo Exhortatorius_, W. de Worde.
[157] Gairdner, _Calendar of Papers Foreign and Domestic_, v., preface,
ix.
[158] Froude’s translation.
[159] _Opera_, ed. Leclerc, iii. col. 102.
[160] Ibid., Ep. 144.
[161] In one of his works Erasmus gives the highest praise to English
ecclesiastics for their single-minded devotion to their clerical
duties. He contrasts them with clerics of other nations in regard to
worldly ambitions, &c. “Those who are nearest to Christ,” he writes,
“should keep themselves free from the baser things of this world. How
ill the word ‘general’ sounds when connected with that of ‘Cardinal,’
or ‘duke’ with that of ‘bishop,’ ‘earl’ with that of ‘abbot,’ or
‘commander’ with that of ‘priest.’ In England the ecclesiastical
dignity is the highest, and the revenues of churchmen abundant. In that
country, however, no one who is a bishop or abbot has even a semblance
of temporal dominion, or possesses castles or musicians or bands of
retainers, nor does any of them coin his own money, excepting only the
Archbishop of Canterbury, as a mark of dignity and honour, which has
been conferred on him on account of the death of Saint Thomas; he is,
however, never concerned in matters of war, but is occupied only in the
care of the churches.” (_Consultatio de Bello Turcico._ _Opera_, ed.
Leclerc, tom. v. p. 363.)
[162] _Opera_, &c., _ut sup._, Ep. 149.
[163] Ibid., Ep. 175.
[164] Ibid., Ep. 216.
[165] Ibid., Ep. 272.
[166] Ibid., Ep. 474.
[167] Thomas More, _Epigrammata_ (ed. Frankfort, 1689), p. 284 _seqq._
[168] Ibid., Ep. 148.
[169] _Erasmus_, p. 63.
[170] _Quarterly Review_, January 1895, p. 23.
[171] The question about Erasmus’s translation of this word came up
in the discussion between Sir Thomas More and Tyndale about the use
made by the latter of the word _congregatio_ for Church in his version
of the New Testament. More writes: “Then he asketh me why I have not
contended with Erasmus, whom he calls my darling, all this long time,
for translating this word _ecclesia_ into this word _congregatio_,
and then he cometh forth with his proper taunt, that I favour him of
likelihood for making of his book of _Moriæ_ in my house.… Now for
his translation of _ecclesia_ by _congregatio_ his deed is nothing
like Tyndale’s. For the Latin tongue had no Latin word used before for
the Church but the Greek word _ecclesia_, therefore Erasmus in his
new translation gave it a Latin word.… Erasmus also meant no heresy
therein, as appears by his writings against the heretics.” (_English
Works_, pp. 421, 422.)
[172] Ep. 384.
[173] Ep. 423.
[174] Ep. 531. Lee’s account of his quarrel with Erasmus is given in
his _Apologia_, which he addressed to the University of Louvain. He
states that Erasmus had come to his house at that place, and had asked
him to aid in the corrected version of his New Testament which he was
then projecting. At first Lee refused, but finally, on being pressed
by Erasmus, he consented, and began the work of revision, but Erasmus
quickly became angry at so many suggested changes. Reports about the
annotations and corrections proposed by Lee began to be spread abroad,
and Erasmus hearing of them, suspected some secret design, and came
from Basle to try and get a copy of the proposed criticism. Lee wished
that it should be considered rather a matter of _theology_ than of
_letters_. Bishop Fisher wrote, on hearing rumours of the quarrel,
urging Lee to try and make his peace with Erasmus, and in deference
to this, Lee informed Erasmus that he would leave the matter entirely
in the hands of the bishop, and had forwarded to him the book of his
proposed criticisms. Erasmus, however, did not wait, but published
the _Dialogus Domini Jacobi Latomi_, which all regarded as an attack
upon Lee. The latter would have published a reply had he not received
letters from England from Fisher, Colet, Pace, and More, begging him to
keep his temper. Lee agreed to stop, and only asked Fisher to decide
the matter quickly. On returning to Louvain, Lee found that Erasmus
had published his _Dialogus bilingium et trilingium_, in which Lee was
plainly indicated as a man hostile to the study of letters in general.
This Lee denied altogether, and in brief, he does not, he says, condemn
Erasmus’s notes on the New Testament so much as the copy he had taken
as the basis for his corrections of the later text. “Politian,” says
Lee, at the end of his _Apologia_, “Politian declares that there are
two great pests of literature--ignorance and envy. To these I will add
a third--‘adulation’--for I have no belief in any one who, having made
a mistake, is not willing to acknowledge it.”
Lee’s criticism of Erasmus’s translation appeared at Louvain in January
1520. It produced an immediate reply from Erasmus, published at Antwerp
in May 1520--a reply “all nose, teeth, nails, and stomach.” In this
Erasmus says that 1200 copies of the New Testament had been printed by
Froben. In the collation he had been much assisted by Bishop Tunstall,
who had, in fact, supplied the exemplar on which he had worked. Erasmus
then gives what he thinks is the correct version of the differences
between Lee and himself. Lee, he says, was only just beginning Greek,
and Erasmus, who had been working at the correction of his version of
the Testament, showed him what he was doing. The margins of the book
were then full of notes, and here and there whole pages of paper were
added. Lee said that he had a few notes that might be useful, and
Erasmus expressed his pleasure at receiving help and asked for them.
Lee thereupon gave him some miscellaneous jottings, and of these,
according to Erasmus’s version of the facts, he made use of hardly
anything. Soon, however, reports were spread about that out of some
three hundred places in which Lee had corrected the first edition of
the translation, Erasmus had adopted two hundred. Bishop Fisher tried
to make peace, and to prevent two men who both meant well to the cause
of religion from quarrelling in public. His intervention was, however,
too late, as already the letter of Erasmus to Thomas Lupset had
appeared and thus rendered reconciliation impossible.
[175] Ep. 231.
[176] Ep. 380. This bishop must have been the Spaniard, George de
Athegua, who was appointed to the see of Llandaff in 1517, and held it
for twenty years.
[177] Ep. 380.
[178] Ep. 453.
[179] Ep. 416.
[180] Ep. 547.
[181] Ep. 529. Erasmus wrote strongly against anything that seemed to
favour the idea of national churches. After declaring that national
dislikes and enmities were unmeaning and unchristian, he continues: “As
an Englishman you wish evil fortune to a Frenchman. Why not rather do
your wishes come as a man to a fellow-man? Why not as a Christian to a
Christian? Why do these frivolous things have greater weight than such
natural ties, such bonds of Christ? Places separate bodies, not souls.
In old days the Rhine divided a Frenchman from a German, but the Rhine
cannot divide one Christian from another. The Pyrenees cut off Spain
from France, but these mountains do not destroy the communion of the
Church. The sea divides the English and French peoples, but it cannot
cut off the society of religion.…” The world is the fatherland of all
people; all men are sprung from a common stock. “The Church is but one
family, common to all.” (_Opera._, tom. iv. col. 638.)
[182] Ep. 715.
[183] Ep. 723.
[184] Ep. 477.
[185] Ep. 528.
[186] Ep. 656.
[187] Ep. 334 (second series.)
[188] _Spongia_ (Basle, Froben, 1523), c. 5.
[189] Ibid., sig. d. 4.
[190] Ibid., sig. e. 2.
[191] Ibid., sig. e. 2. The supreme authority of the Pope is asserted
by Erasmus in numberless places in his works. For example, in the
tract _Pacis Querimonia_, after saying that he cannot understand how
Christians, who understand Christ’s teaching and say their _Pater
noster_ with intelligence, can always be at strife, he proceeds: “The
authority of the Roman Pontiff is supreme. But when peoples and princes
wage impious wars, and that for years, where then is the authority
of the Pontiffs, where then is the power next to Christ’s power?”
&c. (_Opera._, tom. iv. p. 635). So too in his _Precatio pro Pace
Ecclesiæ_, after praying that God would turn the eyes of His mercy upon
the Church, over which “Peter was made Supreme Pastor,” he declares
that there is but “one Church, out of which there is no salvation.”
[192] Ep. 478.
[193] Ep. 501.
[194] Ep. 563.
[195] Ep. 600.
[196] Ep. 563.
[197] Ep. 667.
[198] Ep. 501 (Mr. Froude’s translation).
[199] Ep. 793.
[200] Ep. 823.
[201] Ep. 751.
[202] The Pope himself read the _Enconium Moriæ_ and understood the
spirit of the author; at least so Erasmus was told. He wrote at the
time “the Supreme Pontiff has read through _Moriæ_ and laughed; all he
said was, ‘I am glad to see that friend Erasmus is in the _Moriæ_,’
and this though I have touched no others so sharply as the Pontiffs”
(Ep. p. 1667). What Sir Thomas More thought about it may be given in
his own words, written some years later. “As touching _Moriæ_, in which
Erasmus, under the name and person of _Moria_, which word in Greek
signifies ‘folly,’ merely touches and reproves such faults and follies
as he found in any kind of people pursuing every state and condition,
spiritual and temporal, leaving almost none untouched. By this book,
says Tyndale, if it were in English, every man should then well see
that I was then far otherwise minded than I now write. If this be true,
then the more cause have I to thank God for the amendment. God be
thanked I never had that mind in my life to have holy saints’ images or
their holy relics out of reverence. Nor if there were any such thing
in _Moriæ_ this could not make any man see that I were myself of that
mind, the book being made by another man though he were my darling
never so dear. Howbeit, that book of _Moriæ_ doth indeed but jest upon
abuses of such things.… But in these days, in which men by their own
default misconstrue and take harm from the very Scripture of God, until
men better amend, if any man would now translate _Moriæ_ into English,
or some work either that I have myself written ere this, albeit there
be no harm therein, folks being (as they be) given to take harm of what
is good, I would not only my darling’s books, but my own also, help
to burn them both with my own hands, rather than folk should (though
through their own fault) take any harm of them.” (_English Works_, pp.
422-3.)
[203] _Opera Omnia_ (Froben’s ed., 1540), i. p. 831.
[204] Pp. 832-33.
[205] P. 837.
[206] A case in point was the finding of the celebrated statue of the
Laocöon on January 14, 1506. This discovery was accidentally made in
a vineyard, near Santa Maria Maggiore, and no statue ever produced so
general and so profound an emotion as the uncovering of this work of
art did upon the learned world of Rome. The whole city flocked out
to see it, and the road to the vineyard was blocked day and night by
the crowds of cardinals and people waiting to look at it. “One would
have said,” writes a contemporary, “that it was a Jubilee.” And even
to-day the visitor to the Ara Cœli may read on the tomb of Felice de
Fredis, the happy owner of the vineyard, the promise of “immortality,”
_ob proprias virtutes et repertum Laocohontis divinum simulachrum_ (I.
Klaczki, _Jules II._, p. 115). It is not at all improbable that in the
above passage Erasmus was actually thinking of the delirium caused by
the finding of this statue.
[207] Ibid., p. 838.
[208] For example, the Rev. W. H. Hutton states in the _Guardian_,
January 25, 1899, as the result of his mature studies upon the
Reformation period, that “the so-called divorce question had very
little indeed to do with the Reformation.” Mr. James Gairdner, who
speaks with all the authority of a full and complete knowledge of the
State papers of this period, in a letter to a subsequent number of the
_Guardian_, says, “When a gentleman of Mr. Hutton’s attainments is able
seriously to tell us this, I think it is really time to ask people to
put two and two together, and say whether the sum can be anything but
four. It may be disagreeable to trace the Reformation to such a very
ignoble origin, but facts, as the Scottish poet says, are fellows you
can’t coerce … and won’t bear to be disputed.” What “we call _the_
Reformation in England … was the result of Henry VIII.’s quarrel with
the Court of Rome on the subject of his divorce, and _the same_ results
could not possibly have come about in any other way.” When “Henry VIII.
found himself disappointed in the expectation, which he had ardently
cherished for a while, that he could manage, by hook or by crook, to
obtain from the See of Rome something like an ecclesiastical licence
for bigamy,” he took matters into his own hands, “and self-willed as he
was, never did self-will lead him into such a tremendous and dangerous
undertaking as in throwing off the Pope. How much this was resented
among the people, what secret communications there were between leading
noblemen with the imperial ambassador, strongly urging the emperor to
invade England, and deliver the people from a tyranny from which they
were unable to free themselves, we know in these days as we did not
know before.”
[209] Camden Society, p. 163.
[210] The same high authority, in a letter to the _Guardian_, March
1, 1899, says, “People will tell you, of course, that the seeds of
the Reformation were sown before Henry VIII.’s days, and particularly
that it was Wycliffe who brought the great movement on. I should be
sorry to depreciate Wycliffe, who did undoubtedly bring about a great
movement in his day, though a careful estimate of that movement is
still a _desideratum_. Even in theology the cardinal doctrine of the
Reformation--justification by faith--is in Wycliffe, I should say,
conspicuous by its absence. But, whatever may be the theological debt
of England to Wycliffe at the present day, twenty Wycliffes, all
highly popular, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries would not
have brought about a Reformation like that under which we have lived
during the last centuries. That was a thing which could only have been
effected by royal power--as in England, or by a subversion of royal
authority through the medium of successful rebellion--as in Scotland.”
[211] _Henry VIII._, i. p. 51.
[212] Roger Edgworth, _Sermons_ (London: Robert Caly, 1557), preface.
[213] _English Works_, p. 339.
[214] Strype, _Eccl. Mem._ (ed. 1822), I. i. p. 254.
[215] This book was apparently condemned for reflecting on the king’s
divorce rather than for its Lutheran tendencies. “The Soul’s Garden,”
as Bishop Tunstall calls it, was printed abroad, and “very many lately
brought into the realm, chiefly into London and into other haven
towns.” The objectionable portion was contained in “a declaration made
in the kalendar of the said book, about the end of the month of August,
upon the day of the decollation of St. John Baptist, to show the cause
of why he was beheaded.” (Strype, _ut supra_, ii. p. 274.)
[216] Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 737.
[217] Ibid., 720.
[218] Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 727.
[219] Richard Smythe, D.D., _The assertion and defence of the Sacrament
of the Altar_, 1546, f. 3.
[220] _English Works_, p. 940.
[221] _English Works_, p. 921.
[222] _English Works_, pp. 341-344.
[223] Ibid., p. 346.
[224] Ibid., p. 351.
[225] Germen Gardynare, _A letter of a yonge gentylman_, &c. London: W.
Rastell, 1534.
[226] _English Works_, pp. 257-259.
[227] Ibid., p. 1035.
[228] Ibid., p. 409.
[229] _The Werke for Householders._ London: John Waylande, 1537.
[230] Richard Whitford, _Dyvers holy instructions_. London: W.
Mydylton, 1541.
[231] _Sermons_, sig. h. vij.
[232] _English Works_ (ed. 1557), pp. 233-4. This positive declaration
of Sir Thomas More is generally ignored by modern writers. In a
recently published work, for example (_England in the Age of Wycliffe_,
by George Macaulay Trevelyan), it is stated that “we have positive
proof that the bishops denounced the dissemination of the English Bible
among classes and persons prone to heresy, burnt copies of it, and
cruelly persecuted Lollards on the charge of reading it” (p. 131). In
proof of this statement the author refers his readers to a later page
(p. 342) of his volume. Here he culls from Foxe (_Acts and Monuments_)
the depositions of certain witnesses against people suspected of
teaching heresy. Amongst these depositions it is said by a few of the
witnesses that some of these teachers were possessed of portions of the
Scriptures in English. Mr. Trevelyan assumes, because witnesses speak
to this fact, that it was for this they were condemned, or, as he puts
it, “cruelly persecuted,” by the ecclesiastical authorities. Had he
examined his authority, Foxe, more carefully, he would have found the
actual list of _articles_ formulated against these teachers of heresy.
These alone are, of course, the _charges_ actually made against them;
and the mere deposition of witnesses in those days were, no more than
they are in ours, the charges upon which the accused were condemned.
In the _articles_ or charges we find no mention whatever of the
English Bible, and, according to the ordinary rules of interpretation
of documents, this absence of any mention of Bible-reading in the
indictment, formulated after the hearing of the evidence, and when
witnesses had testified to the fact, should be taken to show that the
mere possession of the vernacular Scriptures, &c., was not accounted
an offence by the Church authorities. The real charge in these cases,
as in others, was of teaching what was then held to be false and
heretical, teaching founded upon false interpretations of the Scripture
text, or upon false translations.
[233] Ibid., p. 235.
[234] Ibid., p. 240.
[235] Ibid., p. 241.
[236] Ibid., p. 240.
[237] Ibid., p. 241.
[238] Ibid., p. 245.
[239] Ibid., p. 510.
[240] Ibid., p. 678.
[241] Roger Edgworth, _Sermons_, London, Caly, 1557, f. 31.
[242] Sir Thomas More, _English Works_, p. 108.
[243] Thomas Lupset, _Collected Works_, 1546. _Gathered Counsails_, f.
202.
[244] Ibid. _An Exhortation to young men_, written 1529. He insists
much on the obligation of following the teaching of the Church.
[245] John Standish, _A discourse wherein is debated whether it be
expedient that the Scripture should be in English for all men to read
that wyll_ (1555), A. iij.
[246] _English Works_, p. 850.
[247] J. S. Brewer, _Henry VIII._, vol. ii. p. 468.
[248] Dore, _Old Bibles_, p. 13.
[249] P. 15.
[250] Ellis, _Historical Letters_, 3rd Series, ii. p. 71.
[251] Johannes Cochlæus, _An expediat laicis legere Novi Testamenti
libros lingua vernacula_, 1533, A. i. The warning of Cochlæus was
addressed to the Scotch king, and as a result of this letter, pointing
out the Lutheran character of the English version of Tyndale, the
Scotch bishops in the Synod of St. Andrews in 1529 forbade the
importation of Bibles into Scotland.
[252] Ibid., L. iij.
[253] Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 727.
[254] _Cf._ Parker Soc. Tyndale’s _Doctrinal treatises_, &c., preface
xxx.
[255] Probably on Sunday, February 11, when Cardinal Wolsey, with
six and thirty bishops and other ecclesiastics, were present at the
burning of Lutheran books before the great crucifix at the north gate.
Amongst the books, according to Tyndale, were copies of his translated
Testament.
[256] Dore, _Old Bibles_, p. 26.
[257] Dore, _ut sup._, 32.
[258] _English Works_, p. 422.
[259] Dore, 35.
[260] _English Works_, p. 849.
[261] _English Works_, p. 341.
[262] Ibid., p. 410.
[263] Ibid., p. 416.
[264] Ibid., p. 417.
[265] Ibid., p. 419.
[266] Ibid., p. 422.
[267] Ibid., p. 424.
[268] Ibid., p. 425.
[269] Ibid., p. 427.
[270] Ibid., p. 435.
[271] Ibid., p. 437.
[272] Ibid., p. 493.
[273] Ibid., p. 422. For examples of other false translations, see also
p. 449.
[274] Standish, _A discourse_, &c., _ut supra_, sig. A. iiij.
[275] _English Works_, p. 223.
[276] Ibid., p. 223.
[277] Standish, _ut supra_, sig. E. iiij.
[278] Roger Edgworth, _Sermons_, f. 31.
[279] _The assertion and defence of the Sacrament of the Altar_ (1546),
f. 3. The amateur theologians and teachers who sprung up so plentifully
with the growth of Lutheran ideas in England seem to have been a source
of trouble to the clergy. There was no difficulty in Scripture so hard
which these “barkers, gnawers, and railers,” as Roger Edgworth calls
them, were not ready to explain, and even women were ready to become
teachers of God’s Word, “and openly to dispute with men.” Speaking in
Bristol, in Mary’s reign, he advises his audience to stick to their
own occupations and leave theology and Scripture alone, “for when a
tailor forsaking his own occupation will be a merchant venturer, or a
shoemaker will become a grocer, God send him help. I have known,” he
says, “many in this town that studying divinity has killed a merchant,
and some of other occupations by their busy labours in the Scripture
hath shut up the shop windows, and were fain to take sanctuary, or
else for mercery and grocery hath been fain to sell godderds, steaves,
pitchers, and such other trumpery.”
[280] _A Commentary in Englyshe upon Sayncte Paule’s Epistle to the
Ephesians_, 1540.
[281] _An Exposition in Englysh upon the Epistle of St. Paule to the
Colossians_, 1548.
[282] _An Exposition_, &c., _upon the Philippians_, 1545.
[283] As an example of the open way in which the reading of the Bible
was advocated, take the following instance. Caxton’s translation of
the _Vitæ Patrum_, published by Wynkyn de Worde in 1495, contained an
exhortation to all his readers to study the Holy Scripture. “To read
them is in part to know the felicity eternal, for in them a man may see
what he ought to do in conversation … oft to read purgeth the soul from
sin, it engendereth dread of God, and it keeps the soul from eternal
damnation.” As food nourishes the body, “in like wise as touching
the soul we be nourished by the lecture and reading of Scripture.…
Be diligent and busy to read the Scriptures, for in reading them the
natural wit and understanding are augmented in so much that men find
that which ought to be left (undone) and take that whereof may ensue
profit infinite” (p. 345).
[284] B. Mus. Harl. MS. 172, f. 12b.
[285] Harl. MS. 115, f. 51.
[286] Ibid., f. 53.
[287] In speaking of the third Commandment, _The art of good lyvyng and
good deyng_ (1503) warns people of their obligation to “Layr the holy
prechyngys, that ys the word of God et the good techyngys, and shoold
not go from the seyd prechyngs” (fol. 8. 2).
[288] Ibid., f. 1.
[289] _The Myrrour of the Church_ (1527), Sig. B4.
[290] _Exornatorium Curatorum._ W. de Worde. In 1518 the Synod of Ely
ordered that all having the cure of souls should have a copy of this
book, and four times a year should explain it in English to their
people. (Wilkins, _Concilia_, III., p. 712.)
[291] _The Prymer of Salisbury Use._ Rouen: Nicholas le Rour, f. b. vij.
[292] _The art of good lyvyng and good deyng._ Paris, 1503, f. g. 2.
[293] _English Works_, p. 116.
[294] _English Works_, p. 117.
[295] Ibid., p. 121.
[296] Ibid., p. 420.
[297] _Sermons_, fol. 40.
[298] _English Works_, pp. 196-7.
[299] Ibid., p. 198.
[300] Ibid., p. 199.
[301] Ed. W. de Worde, 1496.
[302] William Bond, _The Pilgrymage of Perfeccyon_, Wynkyn de Worde,
1531, fol. 192.
[303] Ibid., fol. 196.
[304] Ibid.
[305] _English Works_, p. 408.
[306] The full title of this book is: _Pupilla oculi omnibus
presbyteris precipue Anglicanis necessaria_. It is clear from the
letter that W. Bretton had already had other works printed in the same
way, and it is known that amongst those works were copies of Lynwode’s
_Provinciale_ (1505), _Psalterium et Hymni_ (1506), _Horæ_, &c. (1506),
_Speculum Spiritualium_, and Hampole, _De Emendatione Vitæ_ (1510),
(cf. _Ames_, Ed. Herbert, iii. p. 16). Pepwell the London publisher, at
“the sign of the Holy Trinity,” was the same who published many books
printed abroad, and had dealings with Bishops Stokesley and Tunstall.
[307] For further information upon popular religious instruction in
England, see an essay upon the teaching in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries in my _The old English Bible, and other Essays_. The Rev. J.
Fisher, in his tract on _The Private Devotions of the Welsh_ (1898),
speaking of the vernacular prayer-books, says, “they continued to be
published down to the end of Henry’s reign, and, in a modified form,
even at a later date. Besides these prymers and the oral instruction in
the principal formulæ of the Church, the scriptorium of the monastery
was not behind in supplying, especially the poor, with horn-books, on
which were, as a rule, written in the vulgar tongue the Lord’s Prayer,
the Creed, and the Hail Mary.” In 1546 appeared a prymer in Welsh in
which, amongst other things, the seven capital or deadly sins and their
opposite virtues are given and analysed. This book, consequently,
besides being a prayer-book afforded popular instruction to the people
using it. The prymers in Welsh, we are told, were usually called
“Matins’ Books,” and continued to be published long after the change
of religion. A copy published in 1618 is called the fifth edition,
and copies of it are recorded under the years 1633 and 1783. “It is
rather a curious fact,” writes Mr. Fisher, “that nearly all the Welsh
manuals of devotion and instruction, of any size, published in the
second half of the sixteenth and the first half of the seventeenth
century, were the productions of Welsh Roman Catholics, and published
on the Continent. In Dr. Gruffydd Roberts’s Welsh Grammar, published at
Milan in 1567, will be found poetical versions of the Apostles’ Creed,
the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, the Ten Commandments and the Seven
Sacraments. This work was followed by the _Athravaeth Gristnogavl_,
a short catechism of religious doctrine, translated or compiled by
Morys Clynog, the first Rector of the English College in Rome. It was
published at Milan in 1568, and contains the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer,
the Hail Mary, the Ten Commandments, &c., in Welsh, with expositions.”
The above, with the prayer-books of 1567, 1586, 1599, were all the
works of religious instruction and devotion (private and public) that
appeared in Welsh down to the end of the sixteenth century. I might add
that there is in the Earl of Macclesfield’s collection a large folio
volume of _Miscellanea_ (Shirburn MS. 113, D. 30), written between 1540
and 1560, which contains a prymer occupying several pages. There is
also in the Swansea Public Library a Welsh-Latin MS. of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, written in different hands and in the South
Walian dialect, which forms a manual of Roman Catholic devotion,
containing in Welsh devotions for Mass, the usual meditations and
prayers for various occasions, instructions, &c.
With the seventeenth century there is a good crop of manuals of
devotion and instruction, such as the catechisms of Dr. Rosier Smith
(1609-1611) and Father John Salisbury (1618 _tacito nomine_), both
Welsh Roman Catholics (pp. 24-26).
[308] _A Werke for Housholders._ London, R. Redman, 1537, sig. A. 8.
[309] Ibid., sig. B. i.
[310] Ibid., sig. C. 8.
[311] Ibid., sig. D. 5.
[312] B. Mus. Harl. MS. 2125, f. 272.
[313] _Penny Cyclopædia._ Art., “English Drama.”
[314] _A Relation of the Island of England_ (Camden Society), p. 20.
[315] Ibid., p. 23.
[316] _Venetian Calendar_, ii. p. 91.
[317] _Works on the Supper_ (Parker Society), p. 229.
[318] To take one instance: the church of St. Neots possessed many
stained glass windows placed in their present positions between the
years 1480 and 1530. Almost all of them were put in by individuals,
as the inscriptions below testify. In the case of three of the lights
it appears that groups of people joined together to beautify their
parish church. Thus below one of the windows in the north aisle is the
following: “_Ex sumptibus juvenum hujus parochiæ Sancti Neoti qui istam
fenestram fecerunt anno domini millessimo quingentessimo vicessimo
octavo_.” Another window states that it was made in 1529, “_Ex
sumptibus sororum hujus parochiæ_”; and a third in 1530, “_Ex sumptibus
uxorum_.”
[319] _History of Modern Architecture_, pp. 37, 87.
[320] _Archæologia_, vol. xli. p. 355.
[321] _Parish Life in England before the Great Pillage_ (“Nineteenth
Century,” March 1898), p. 433.
[322] _Churchwardens’ Accounts_ (Somerset Record Soc.), ed. Bishop
Hobhouse, p. 200, _seqq._
[323] Ibid., p. xxi.
[324] Ibid., p. xii.
[325] _Archæologia_, vol. xli., p. 333 _seqq._
[326] _Somerset Record Soc._, preface, p. xi.
[327] J. W. Cowper, _Accounts of the Churchwardens of St. Dunstan’s,
Canterbury_ (_Archæologia Cantiana_, 1885).
[328] Siméon Luce, _Histoire de Bertrand du Guesclin_, p. 19.
[329] The words of Pope Leo XIII. as to the Catholic teaching
most accurately describe the practical doctrine of the English
pre-Reformation Church on this matter: “The chiefest and most excellent
rule for the right use of money,” he says, “rests on the principle that
it is one thing to have a right to the possession of money and another
to have the right to use money as one pleases.… If the question be
asked, How must one’s possessions be used? the Church replies, without
hesitation, in the words of the same holy doctor (St. Thomas), _Man
should not consider his outward possessions as his own, but as common
to all_, so as to share _them without difficulty when others are in
need_. When necessity has been supplied and one’s position fairly
considered, it is a duty to give to the indigent out of that which
is over. It is a duty, not of justice (except in extreme cases) but
of Christian charity … (and) to sum up what has been said, Whoever
has received from the Divine bounty a large share of blessings … has
received them for the purpose of using them for the perfecting of his
own nature, and, at the same time, that he may employ them, as the
minister of God’s Providence, for the benefit of others.”
[330] _The Economic Interpretation of History_, p. 63.
[331] _Churchwardens’ Accounts_ (Somerset Record Soc.), p. xxiv.
[332] Roger Edgworth, _Sermons_, London, R. Caly, 1557, p. 309.
[333] _Parish Life in England before the Great Pillage_ (“Nineteenth
Century,” March 1898), p. 432.
[334] _English Gilds_ (Early English Text-Society), pp. lxxx.-civ.
[335] Ibid., p. xiv.
[336] _The Economic Interpretation of History_, p. 306.
[337] _English Gilds_ (Early English Text-Society), p. 3.
[338] Ibid., p. 6.
[339] Ibid., p. 8.
[340] Ibid., p. 48.
[341] Egerton MS., 142.
[342] The existence of which I know from Mr. Francis Joseph Baigent,
who with his usual generosity allowed me to examine and take my notes
from the copies which he has among his great collection of materials
for the history of Hampshire.
[343] One example of this latter, or as I might call it, ordinary
expense of the society, is worth recording. In 1411, and subsequent
years, an annual payment of 13s. 4d. is entered on the accounts as
made to one Thomas Deverosse, a tailor, and apparently a member of the
fraternity. The history of this man’s poverty is curious. When Bishop
William of Wykeham, desiring to build Winchester College, purchased
certain lands for the purpose, amongst the rest was a field which a
tailor of Winchester, this Thomas Deverosse, subsequently claimed; and
to make good his contention, brought a suit of ejectment against the
Bishop. The case was tried in the King’s Bench, and the tailor not only
lost, but was cast in costs and so ruined. With some writers, William
of Wykeham’s good name had been allowed to suffer most unjustly for
his share in the misfortunes of the unlucky tailor; for the Bishop not
only undertook to pay the costs of the suit himself, but agreed that
the college should make the unfortunate claimant a yearly allowance of
8d. to assist him in his poverty. The Tailors’ Guild secured to him a
pension of 13s. 4d.
[344] Here is the bill for the annual feast in the Guild of Tailors
of Winchester in 1411. The association was under the patronage of St.
John the Baptist, and they kept their feast on the Day of the beheading
of the Saint, August 29. In this year, 1411, the 29th of August fell
upon a Saturday, which in mediæval times, as all know, was a day of
abstinence from flesh-meat. It is to be noticed, consequently, that
provision is made for a fish dinner: “6 bushels of wheat at 8½d. the
bushel; for grinding of the same, 3d.; for baking the same, 6d.;
ready-made bread purchased, 12d.; beer, 7s. 1d.; salt fish bought of
Walter Oakfield, 6s. 8d.; mullet, bass, ray, and fresh conger bought of
the same Walter, 6s. 8d.; fresh salmon of the same, 8s.; eels, 10½d.;
fresh fish bought of John Wheller, ‘fisher,’ 2s.; ditto, of Adam Frost,
9s.; ditto, bought of a stranger, 2s. 8d.; beans purchased, 9d.; divers
spices, _i.e._ saffron, cinnamon, sanders, 12½d.; salt, 2d.; mustard,
2½d.; vinegar, 1d.; tallow, 2d.; wood, 18d.; coals, 3½d.; paid to
Philip the cook, 2s.; to four labourers, 2s. 6d.; to three minstrels,
3s. 4d.; for rushes to strew the hall, 4d.; three gallons and one pint
of wine, 19d.; cheese, 8d.” Making in all a total of £3, 4s. 3½d. This,
no doubt, represented a large sum in those days, but it is as well to
remember that at this time the guild consisted of 170 men and women,
and the cost of the feast was not one-sixth part of the annual income.
[345] Harl. MS. 4626, f. 26.
[346] Ibid., f. 29. This was confiscated to the Crown on the
dissolution of the Guilds and Fraternities under Edward VI.
[347] _Introduction to English Economic History_ (2nd ed.), i. pp.
100-101.
[348] _Old Crown House_, p. 36, cf. pp. 37-39.
[349] See the remarks in regard to France of M. Charles de Ribbe, _La
Société Provençale à la fin du moyen age_, 1898, p. 60. Speaking of the
fifteenth-century wills, he says: “Nous en avons lu un grand nombre, et
nous avons été frappé de la haute inspiration, parfois meme du talent,
avec lesquels des notaires de village savaient traduire les élans de
foi et de piété dont ils étaient les interprètes chez leurs clients.…
Cette foi et cette piété; trouvé d’abord leur expression dans le
vénérable signe de la sainte croix (lequel est plus d’une fois figuré
graphiquement). Suit la recommandation de l’âme à Dieu Créateur du ciel
et de la terre, au Christ rédempteur, à la Vierge Marie,” &c. (p. 91).
[350] _Testamenta Eboracensia_ (Surtees Society), vol. iv. p. 21.
[351] Ibid., p. 127.
[352] Ibid., p. 127.
[353] Ibid., p. 170.
[354] Ibid., p. 27.
[355] Ibid., p. 60.
[356] Ibid., p. 335.
[357] Ibid., p. 277.
[358] Ibid., p. 139, _seqq._
[359] Ibid., p. 61 and _note_.
[360] Ibid., p. 69.
[361] Ibid., p. 89.
[362] Ibid., p. 132.
[363] Ibid., p. 149.
[364] Ibid., p. 208.
[365] Ibid., p. 215.
[366] Ibid., p. 230.
[367] Ibid., p. 119.
[368] Ibid., p. 160.
[369] B. Mus. Harl. MS. 670, f. 77 b.
[370] _Yorkshire Chantry Surveys_ (Surtees Soc.), ii., preface, p. xiv.
[371] _The Economic Interpretation of History_, p. 306.
[372] J. S. Burn, _History of Henley on Thames_, pp. 173-175.
[373] R. O. Chantry Certificate, No. 13 (account for year 37 H. VIII.),
No. 17.
[374] Ibid., No. 30 and No. 95, M. 6.
[375] Ibid., No. 37, M. 12; also No. 95, M. 7; and No. 13 (38) Mins.
Accts. 2, 3, Ed. VI., shows that the king received £11, 19s. 8d. for
the property of this chapel, which was granted to Robert Swift and his
brother.
[376] R. O. Chantry Certificate, No. 45 (m. i. d.).
[377] Ibid.
[378] Ibid.
[379] Ibid. (18).
[380] Ibid. (20).
[381] This was owing to the recent dissolution of the Abbey.
[382] In one case it is said: “_Mem._: The decay of rent is caused by
the fact that most came from lands in possession of the abbey; since
the dissolution these have been sold, and the purchasers do not allow
that they are liable to pay.” The hospital called St. Parvell’s,
without the south gate, also had been dissolved by Henry VIII., and the
property granted to Sir George Somerset (6th July, 37 H. VIII.). It
had produced £16, 13s. 4d. a year, with £5, 10s. “paid out of the late
abbey of Bury to the sustentation of the poor.” The whole charity, of
course, by the dissolution of the abbey and the grant of the remaining
property as above, had come to an end.
[383] Ibid. (No. 44).
[384] _Yorkshire Chantry Surveys_ (Surtees Soc.), p. 213.
[385] Ibid., p. 214.
[386] Ibid., p. 215.
[387] Ibid., p. 216.
[388] Ibid., p. 11.
[389] Ibid., p. 12.
[390] Ibid., p. 13.
[391] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, vol. lxxxii., ii. 318. Quoted in J. Gough
Nichol’s _Pilgrimages_, &c. Introduction, xcv.
[392] Lancelot Rydley. _Exposition in the Epistell of Jude._
London, Thomas Gybson, 1538, sig. B. v. In sermons and writings,
pre-Reformation ecclesiastics strove to impress upon the minds of the
people the true principles of devotion to shrines and relics of the
saints. To take one example beyond what is given above. In _The Art
of Good Lyvyng and Good Deyng_, printed in 1503, the writer says: “We
should also honour the places that are holy, and the relics of holy
bodies of saints and their images, not for themselves, but for that in
seeing them we show honour to what it represents, the dread reverence,
honour and love of God, after the intention of Holy Church, otherwise
it were idolatry” (fol. 6).
[393] _A Commentary in Englyshe upon the Ephesians_, 1540, sig. A. ii.
[394] P. 190.
[395] _Opera omnia_ (ed. Leclerc), tom. v., col. 26.
[396] Col. 37.
[397] _A treatise concerning the division between the spiritualitie and
the temporalitie._ London, R. Redman (1532?), fol. 27.
[398] _Dyaloge in Englyshe_, 1531. Part 3, fol. 23.
[399] English Works, p. 476.
[400] Stephen Gardiner. _A declaration of such true articles as George
Joye hath gone about to confute as false._ 1546, f. 2.
[401] _Consilium de emendanda ecclesia_ (Ed. 1538), sig. B. 4.
[402] Jacobi Sadoletti, _Opera Omnia_, Verona (1737). Tom ii., p. 437.
[403] It is said to be “printed at Jericho in the land of Promes, by
Thomas Treuth.”
[404] The English Testament.
[405] Sig. A. 3.
[406] Ibid., sig. A. 4.
[407] Ibid., sigs. A. 5 d., A. 6 d.
[408] Ibid., sig. B. i.
[409] Ibid., sig. B. ii.
[410] Ibid., sig. B. viii.
[411] Sig. D. vii.
[412] Ibid., sig. D. viii.
INDEX
Abbots, display in elections of, 129
Abraham, religious play, 320
Adrian VI., Pope, 157
Aggeus, Augustine, 310
Aldine press, at Venice, 160
Aldus, printer, 160, 166
Alexander VI., Pope, 102
Alms, 132
Alton, foundation for obits at, 403-404
Amberbach, printer, 166
Amyas Chantry, 401-402
Angels, devotion to, 308
Anti-clerical spirit, 114, 119
Antoninus, St., Archbishop of Florence, 96
“Apology” of Sir Thomas More, 71, 73, 115, 122, 144
Archæology, pagan and Christian, 206
Architecture, pre-Reformation activity in, 9-10, 328 _et seq._;
decline of the art, 329
Aretino, 23
Art, great activity of, prior to Reformation, 10-12
Arundel, Archbishop, 236
Ashley, Mr. W. J., cited, 379
Augmentation, Court of, 384
Badsworth, chantry foundation at, 401
Baigent, Mr. F. T., 372, _note_
Baker, mediæval fresco painter, 11
Baptism, 225
Barbarus, Hermolaus, 29
Barnes, Friar, 88, 118, 119, 136, 223
Basle, printing-press at, 165
Baynard’s Castle, meeting at, 68
Beccles, foundation at, 408
Becket, Thomas, 441
Bede-roll, 335, 341
Benedict XII., 103
Benedictine Order, average of graduates at Oxford, 42
Benefices, 55, 106, 108, _note_, 353
Benefit of clergy, 55
Bequests, mediæval, 389 _et seq._
Bere, Abbot, of Glastonbury, 39, 40, _note_
Berthelet, publisher, 72, _note_, 73, 98, _note_, 102, _note_,
107, _note_, 110, 137, _note_, 298
Bible, the Bishops’, 247
Bible, Erasmus’s translation, 168 _et seq._
Bible, English, hostility to, 236;
evidence of Catholic acceptance, 237, 242, 247;
supposed early Catholic version, 237, 242, 247;
persecutions for possession examined, 240, and _note_, 241;
translations authorised, 242-243, 247-249;
not prohibited, 247, 275-276;
absence of popular demand for, 250-251;
Tyndale’s version and Luther’s share in it, 252 _et seq._;
useless without interpretation, 275
Bishops, and ordination, 148;
and spiritual jurisdiction, 154;
obstacles to Reformation, 444
Blackfriars, meetings at, 67, 68
Bombasius, Paul, 33, _note_, 34
Bond, William, 83, 305
Boniface VIII., Pope, 99
Books, heretical, prohibited, 213-216;
More on heretical, 218 _et seq._;
earliest printed largely religious, 315
Bourbon, Duke of, 230
Boyer, Sebastian, Court physician, 160
Brentano, Mr., cited, 362-363
Brethren of St. John’s, 374;
and Hospital, 375
Bretton, William, 310, and _note_
Brewer, Mr., cited, 147, 211-212, 250, 279
Brotherhoods, Parish, 347
Brunfels, Otto, 194
Brygott, Richard, prior of Westacre, 44
Bucer, 214
Burials, 54
Burnet, historian, cited, 4
Bury St. Edmunds, chantries at, 409
Butley, Priory of, 43
Calendar of papers, domestic and foreign, of reign of Henry VIII., 4
Cambray, Bishop of, 159
Cambridge, portions of Prior Selling’s library at, 32;
monastic students at, 43;
petition of scholars to the king, 47
Campeggio, Cardinal, 179, 180, 181
Canterbury, Archbishop of, on clerical immunity, 69
Canterbury, entertainment of Emperor Manuel at Christchurch, 22;
Selling and Hadley, monks of Christchurch, 24 _et seq._;
Canterbury College at Oxford, 27, 28, _note_;
St. Augustine’s and the literary movement, 40
Caraffa, Cardinal, afterwards Paul IV., 105, 107, 438
Carmelites, origin, 117;
responsibility for Lutheranism, 197
Caxton, 275, _note_
Chalcocondylas, Demetrius, 29
Chantries, 123, 124, 399, 401
Chapels of ease, 413
Chaplains, evil effects of their position, 138-139
Charnock, Prior, 39
Chaucer, cited, 415
Children, and idols, 292;
religious instruction of, 312, 313-314
Christchurch, _see_ Canterbury
Christianity and the classical revival, 203-206
Chrysoloras, Manuel, Greek scholar, 23, and _note_
Chrysostom, St., cited, 122
Church, position of, prior to Reformation, 1, 147, 211;
need of reform in, 5 _et seq._;
attitude to learning, 15, 21, 35-38, 41;
hostility to “New Learning” explained, 15 _et seq._, 19;
limits of jurisdiction, 51;
and disputations entailed, _ibid._;
State right to regulate temporalities of, 53 _et seq._;
king as supreme head, 65, 111;
rights, 65;
what constitutes, 70;
riches coveted, 75;
Pope as head, 83 _et seq._;
Papal Commission appointed to save, 105;
evils in, and how caused, 105-106;
abuses pointed out by Commission, 107, _note_, 108, _note_;
limitations of king’s Headship, 111-112;
controversy on riches of, 123;
Erasmus’s attitude to, 167 _et seq._, 199-200;
Erasmus regarded as an enemy to, 175-176;
Lutheran tenets concerning, 194;
need of reform obscured by Reformation, 198;
attack on, 216;
attitude to vernacular Bibles, 236 _et seq._, 245-248;
but hostility to denied, 242-243, 246-247, 251;
religious teaching prior to Reformation, 278 _et seq._;
charges against on points of worship, 293, 302-305;
bequests to, 390 _et seq._;
suggested disposal of wealth of, 444;
abuses in, 415
Church of Christ, sermon on, 91
Church-building, activity of, 326;
contributions of people towards bequests for, 327, and _note_, 390;
decoration, 328, 332
Church House, 341
Churchyards, trees and grass in, 60
Cicero, and the classical revival, 203-206
_Ciceroniana_ of Erasmus, 203
Clark, Dr. John, English ambassador, 94
Classical revival, Erasmus on, 203;
absurdities of, 203-204
Claymond, John, Greek scholar, 40, _note_, 41, _note_
Clement, John, 37, _note_
Clement, Pope, 109, _note_
Clergy, alleged encouragement of ignorance, 2, 278;
mortuary dues, 53, 140-144;
“benefit,” 55;
rights and duties, 61, 65-70;
ordinations, 63, 148-153;
exemptions, 63;
immunity, 66 _et seq._;
not the Church, 70;
position as individuals, 72;
attack on their temporalities, 103;
laity’s grievance against, 114 _et seq._;
and its causes, 119, 138;
defended by More, 120-121;
alleged mercenary spirit, 123;
and idle laxity of living, 127;
prayers, 131;
alms, 132-133;
fasting and mortification, 134;
charges of corruption, 136;
lack of definite work, 137, _note_;
in households of laity, 138;
tithe exactions, 142;
faults, 143-145;
alleged immorality, 145-146;
charge of simony, 146;
Mr. Brewer cited on, 147;
ignorance of, 151;
hostility to vernacular scriptures examined, 236 _et seq._, 243, 246;
and reasons for not encouraging, 242, 244;
extent and character of their religious teaching, 280 _et seq._;
books used by for teaching, 309 _et seq._;
chantry clergy, 400, 405-409, 413;
pilgrimages and relics maintained by, 415;
and motives for, 422, 425
“Clericus,” 74
Cloth, clerical, State’s right to legislate on, 60
Cochlæus, John, 253, 254, _note_
Colet, Dean, 7, 19, 29, and _note_, 33, _note_, 149, 160, 164, 168
Commerce, progress not due to Reformation, 8
Commissioners, royal, 380, 384
Compostella, pilgrimages to, 416, 417
Concordat, between Leo X. and Francis I., 76
Concubines, alleged licences for, 145
Confession, 225, 282, 287
Congregation, denoting church, 173, _note_, 262-266
Conscience, examinations of, 286
Constantine, donation to Pope, 95
Constantine, George, 222
Constantinople, effect of fall of, 23
Constitution, Provincial, 237-239, 242, 280
Contarini, Cardinal, 107, 109, _note_
Convocation, grant of headship of Church to the king, 111;
enactment regarding ordination, 148-149;
powers of legislation transferred to Crown, 153;
draws up list of heretical books, 215
Corpus Christi, feast of, 373;
procession of guilds, 374;
at Corunna, 217
Council of Trent, 5, 109, _note_, 440
Courts, ecclesiastical, subject to Pope, 80-81
Coverdale, Myles, 102, 258
Cranmer and English Bible, 236, 247;
on hearing mass, 326
Creeping to the Cross, 302
Criticism in the Church, 155, 171
Croke, Richard, 36, _note_, 102, _note_
Cromwell, Thomas, 112, 153
Cross, honour to on Good Friday, 302
Crowley, quoted, 382
Crucifix, reverence of image of, 126, 289-290, 300, 307;
not an idol, 293
Curates and mortuaries, 140-141;
and tithes, 142
Cuthbert, Bishop, 219
Dalton, John, of Hull, will of, 391
Dead, prayers for, 387, 399
De Athegua, George, Bishop, 178, and _note_
De Burgo, John, 309
Dee, Dr., supplication to Queen Mary, 48
_Defence of Peace_, 103, and _note_, 104, _note_
Degree, advantage of to religious, 44
De Melton, William, Chancellor of York, 149
De Ribbe, M. Charles, on wills, 389, _note_
_Determinations of the Universities_, 102, _note_
Deventer, school, 157
De Worde, Wynkyn, 83, 149, 275, _note_, 280, and _note_, 298, 312
Digon, John, Canterbury monk, 41, and _note_
Dislike of clergy, alleged, 114;
reasons for, 127, 138
Dispensations, 106
_Dives et Pauper_, 284, 298, 353, 354
Division between spirituality and temporality, Saint-German’s work on,
115 _et seq._, 122, 127, 140
Divorce question, the, and its share in Reformation, 208, and _note_
Doctors of divinity, Erasmus’s satire on, 201
Döllinger, Dr., cited, 21
Dominicans, the, and Erasmus, 187;
responsibility for Lutheranism, 197
Dorpius, Marten, 169-170
Dues of clergy, 53
Dunstan’s, St., Canterbury, 346;
parish accounts, 347
_Dyalogue_ of Saint-German, 53 _et seq._, 115, 140;
of More, 262, 269, 289
Ecclesiastical authority, alleged discontent of laity under, 1, 114,
208 _et seq._, 416;
limits of, 51
Ecclesiastical discipline, inquiry into, 438
Ecclesiastics, attitude to revival of learning, 36-38, 41;
resistance to encroachment, 51, 53;
Erasmus’s satire on, 201 _et seq._;
attitude to English Bible, 236 _et seq._;
alleged encouragement of ignorance, 2, 278
Edgworth, Roger, preacher, 16, 46, 212, 244, 272, 273, _note_, 292, 359
Education, fostered by monasteries, 45
_Enconium Moriæ_, of Erasmus, 161-162, 201 _et seq._
Erasmus, attitude to Reformation, 7, 20;
made responsible for “New Learning,” 16, _note_;
but attitude to defined, 19, 20;
his chief support in England, 38;
position and views, 155;
considered a Reformer, 156, 178, 180-181;
birth and education, 156-157;
joins order of St. Augustine, 157;
ordained, _ibid._;
unfitness for religious life, 157;
hostility to religious orders, 158, 180, 187, 200;
denounces enticing of youths into cloister, _ibid._;
leaves the religious life, 159;
takes pupils, _ibid._;
at Oxford, 159-160;
in London, 160;
visits Italy, _ibid._;
his _Adagia_, _ibid._;
visits Venice, _ibid._;
returns to London, 161;
his _Enconium Moriæ_, 161-162, 201 _et seq._, 431;
at Cambridge, 161-162;
testimony to Archbishop Warham’s kindness, 162-163;
praise of English ecclesiastics, 163, _note_;
amounts received from English friends, 164;
again leaves England, 165;
settles at Basle, _ibid._;
superintends Froben’s press, 166;
death, 167;
attitude to Church, 167 _et seq._, 199-200;
translation of New Testament, 168 _et seq._;
attacks on, 173 _et seq._;
regarded as an enemy to the Church, 175-176;
opposition to his revival of Greek, 177-178;
defends himself to the Pope, 179, 181-182;
disclaims connection with Luther, 180-182, 185, 195-198;
opposition to national churches, 182, _note_;
attitude to Luther, 185, 195, 196-198;
attacks Luther, 186;
replies to von Hutten’s attacks, 187 _et seq._;
attitude to the Pope, 189-190, and _note_, 193, 194-195, 197;
attacks Lutheran motives, 191-192;
letter to Bishop Marlianus on attitude to Luther, 197;
general attitude to religious movement of his age, 200 _et seq._;
and to the classical revival, 203;
on pilgrimages and relics, 415, 418, 431;
on devotion to saints, 431 _et seq._
Eton College Chapel, wall paintings of, 11
Evensong, said before noon, 134
Exemptions of clergy, 63, 76
Fairs, 378 _et seq._;
at Winchester, 379
_Faith, The Olde, of Great Brittayne and the New Learning of England_,
17, and _note_
Fasting, 134
Ferguson, Mr., quoted on architectural art, 329
Fineux, Chief-Justice, tries John Savage, 57 _et seq._;
opinion on spiritual courts, 69
Fisher, Bishop, love of learning, 36, _note_;
object in studying Greek, 38;
views on Papal supremacy, 90, and _note_;
books against Luther, 90, _note_, 192;
execution, 91;
sermon on, 92;
on moral character of religious, 137, _note_;
invitation to Erasmus, 161;
on Erasmus’s New Testament, 169, 175, _note_;
supports study of Greek, 177
Fisher, Rev. J., 311, _note_
Fleming, Robert, 23
Foxe, cited, 240, _note_, 251
Francis I., 76
Francis, Order of St., 117
Free, John, 40, and _note_
Frith, 215, 222, 223, 227
Froben, printer, 165, 182
Froude, on Erasmus’s New Testament, 172
Funerals, 54
Gairdner, James, cited on jurisdiction of Pope, 81, _note_;
on the divorce question, 208, _note_;
on Reformation influences, 210, 211, _note_
Gardiner, Bishop, 438
Gardynare, Germen, 227
Garlekhithe, St. James, 366
German reformers, books prohibited, 214-215
Gibbon, cited, 22
_Glasse of Truth_, 101-102, _note_
Glastonbury monastery, 39
Gloucester, Humphrey, Duke of, 23
God, love of, 299;
worship of, 304
Goldstone, Reginald, monk, companion of Selling, 26
Goldstone, Thomas, Prior of Christchurch, 24
Gonville Hall, Cambridge, 43, 44
Good Friday observances, 302-303
Government, true principle of, 106
Grace at meals, 314
Graduates at Oxford, register of, 41-42
Greek emperors, journeys to courts of Western Europe, 22
Greek, influence in revival of learning, 14, 21 _et seq._;
first schools of the revival, 23;
effect of fall of Constantinople, 23-24;
decline in study of after Reformation, 47;
Erasmus and the Greek Testament, 168 _et seq._;
outcry against studies in, 177
Green, historian, cited, 16, _note_
Gregory VII., Pope, 101
Grocyn, William, 29, and _note_, 160
Grudge of laity against ecclesiastics, 114
Guardian angel, prayer to, 309
Guarini, pupil of Chrysoloras, 23
Guilds, 351;
founded upon principle of Christian brotherhood, 352 _et seq._;
trade, and religious, 361;
benefit societies, 363;
their work, 365, 385;
constitution, 366 _et seq._;
“Pinners’” Guild, 368;
accounts, 369-370;
fees, 371;
Guild of Tailors, 371;
members, 371;
expenditure, 372, and _note_;
their part in Corpus Christi processions, 373-374;
brethren of St. John’s, 374;
feasts, 376, and _note_;
Candlemas Guild of Bury St. Edmunds, 377;
bequests, 377-378;
connection with fairs, 378;
final destruction, 380
Hadley, William, companion of Prior Selling, 24;
studies at foreign universities, 25;
returns to Christchurch, 26
Hair shirts, 131, 134
Headship of the Church, the king’s, 56
Hegius, Alexander, 157
Henley on Thames, chantries at, 405
Henry IV., 136
Henry VII. obtains Bull from Innocent VIII., 56;
purchases pardon for Westminster and Savoy, 124
Henry VIII., calendar of papers of reign, 4;
exerts his influence on behalf of learning, 36, 177;
determined to maintain rights of Crown, 69;
book against Luther, 90, 94;
defends Church, 94, 226;
reputed book, 102, _note_;
petition of Commons, &c., against spirituality, 153;
quarrel with Rome on divorce question, 208, and _note_;
forbids Lutheran books, 214, 259;
authorises English Bibles, 273;
destroys the guilds, 380;
the reformers and, 440
Heresy, spread by books, 213, 218
Hobhouse, Bishop, cited, 346, 357
Holidays, determined by ecclesiastical law, 71
Holy Land, pilgrimages to, 416
_Hortulus Animæ_, the, 214, and _note_
Huchin, William, _see_ Tyndale
Hunn, Richard, 240
Hunting, by priests, 138, 139, 151
Hutton, Rev. W. H., cited, 208, _note_
Hytton, Sir Thomas, 224, 225
Idolatry, charges of, 293, 303, 305
Idols, distinguished from images, 265, 289 _et seq._, 305-306
Ignorance, alleged prevalence of, 2, 278
Images, confused with idols, 265, 292;
veneration of, 289 _et seq._, 423 _et seq._
Immunity of clergy, 63, 66 _et seq._
Indulgences, 108, _note_, 435 _et seq._
Innocent VIII. grants Bull to Henry VII., 56, _note_
Janssen, historian, cited, 6, 7, 279, 354
Jerome, St., corrections in Testament, 170;
cited on Papal supremacy, 197
Jessop, Dr., cited, 43;
on popular gifts to churches, 336;
on poverty, 360
Jesus, bowing at name of, 283
Joye, George, or Clarke, 221, 224, 253, 257-258, 438
Judges, English prelates as, 81
Julius II., Pope, 96, 102, 109, 204
Jurisdiction, limits of ecclesiastical and lay, 51, 65 _et seq._, 176;
leading factor in Reformation, 52;
Papal, 78 _et seq._;
Roman curia as court of appeal, 80
Katherine, Queen, 178
Kent, Holy Maid of, 441
King’s power, 75;
his headship of Church, 65, 111
Knowledge, result of increase of, 2
Laity, Reformation opposed to convictions of, 1;
alleged disaffection to Church, _ibid._;
and reasons advanced, _ibid._;
attitude to Church’s jurisdiction, 51;
absence of enthusiasm among in doctrinal disputes, 52;
grudge against ecclesiastics, 114 _et seq._;
charge clergy with mercenary spirit, 123;
dislike of clergy, and reasons for, 127;
“mortuaries” a great offence to, 140
Langton, Thomas, Bishop of Winchester, 33, and _note_
Languages, battle of, 176-179
Laocöon, the, statue of, 206, _note_
Latimer, William, Bishop, 34, 38, 47;
lawsuits, 348 _et seq._
“Latria,” 294-304, 306-307
Lawyers, ecclesiastical, 95
Learning, revival not due to Reformation, 7-8, 15;
adverse effects of Reformation on, 9, 198-199;
“New Learning” applied only to religious teaching, 15 _et seq._;
Church’s attitude to learning, 15, 19, 38;
Erasmus on Reformation’s effect on, 20;
general aspect of revival, 21;
Greek influence in, 14, 21 _et seq._;
subsequent progress, 35;
occasional pulpit denunciations, _ibid._;
slight nature of opposition, 36;
laymen associated with revival, 37;
fostered by monasteries, 39;
condition of things at universities, 41-44;
education assisted by religious houses, 45;
decay of after Reformation, 45-48;
revival of, associated with Lutheranism, 178;
but without cause, 180-181;
Erasmus’s attitude to revival of letters, 203-207
Lee, Edward, afterwards Archbishop of York, 173-174, and _note_, 252
Leeds, chantries at, 411-412
Leland, cited, 24, _note_, 25
Leo X., Pope, 28, and _note_, 76, 94, 96, 173, 179, 181, 185, 439
Leo XIII., Pope, cited, 355, _note_
Leonicenus, 34
Leonicus, 34, and _note_
Leverton, parish of, 339;
Church accounts, 343 _et seq._
Lewes, Cluniac House at, 43
Liberty advocated by Luther, 227
Libraries, destruction of, 48;
Dr. Dee’s supplication to Queen Mary, 48;
national library suggested, 49
Life, daily rules of, 286-287, 313
Lilly, George, 29, _note_
Linacre, pupil of Selling, sketch of early life, 27;
accompanies Selling to Italy, 28; becomes pupil of Politian, 28;
at Rome, 29;
returns to Oxford, 30;
appointed Court physician, _ibid._;
receives priest’s orders, _ibid._;
friend of Erasmus, 160, 164
Liveries for chaplains, 138
Lollards, the, 209 _et seq._, 214, 240
London, Mors’s Lamentation against, 440
Longland, Bishop, 93, 146, 147, _note_
Louvain, University of, 160, 174, _note_, 176, 178, 179, 180
Love of God, 299
Luce, M. Siméon, cited, 351
Lupset, Thomas, sketch of, 36, _note_;
on study of Bible, 248
Luther, Martin, aims of, 7;
cited on pre-Reformation progress, 8;
“New Learning” inculcated by, 16, and _note_;
books against, 84-85, 90, 94;
sermon against, 93;
Henry VIII. opposes, 94;
method of, 108-109, _note_; More and Lutherans, 120;
considered disciple of Erasmus, 156, 178, 180;
revival of letters not connected with his movement, 180-181;
Erasmus’s repudiation of, 180-182, 195-198;
efforts to win over Erasmus, 183-184;
attacked by Erasmus, 186, 191-192;
supported by von Hutten, 186 _et seq._;
tenets of Lutheranism, 194;
methods of attacking condemned, 196;
who responsible for his movement, 197;
effects of Lutheranism, 198;
and spread of, 212-213;
books prohibited, 213-215; disciples, 216;
his book, 222;
“New Learning” and, 225;
advocacy of liberty, 227;
evils of Lutheranism, 228-230;
and of Lutheran literature, 244;
Tyndale’s connection with, 252;
share in Tyndale’s Testament, 252-255;
direction of his remonstrances, 279
Lutheranism, tenets of, 194;
responsibility for, 197;
effects of, 198;
evils of, 228-230;
expectations of English Lutherans, 440, 445
Lyndwood, cited, 247, 353
Mace, George, canon of Westacre, 44
Maitland, Professor, quoted on pre-Reformation position of the Pope, 80
Manuel, Greek Emperor, arrival at Canterbury, 22
Mary Magdalene, religious play, 320
Marlianus, Bishop, 197
Marshall, William, 103
Marsilius of Padua, 103, 104, _note_
Mary, Queen, attempt to restore learning under, 48
Mass, the, 225, 271, 283, 285
Matrimony, State regulation of, 62;
Hytton’s view of, 225
Matthew, Simon, preacher, 91
Medici, Lorenzo de, 28
Mentz, Cardinal Archbishop of, 181, 184
Metal-working, inventions in, 428
“Miles,” mouthpiece of Saint-German, 74
Miracles, 62, 427
Monasteries, scholarship in, 39, and _note_;
members of at universities, 42 _et seq._
Monks, hostile to Erasmus, 176, 180;
Erasmus quoted on, 202;
pilgrimages and relics maintained by, 415
Morality, of clergy, 145-146
More, Sir Thomas, attitude to Reformation, 7;
and to learning, 19, 35-37;
connection with Christchurch, 28;
at Oxford, 29, and _note_;
on immunity of clergy, 70;
his “Apology,” 71, 73, 115, 122, 144;
on spiritual authority, 73;
on Papal supremacy, 85 _et seq._, 88;
on nature of the Church, 86 _et seq._;
against Friar Barnes, 88;
book against Luther, 90;
death, 91;
sermon on, 92;
controversy on clergy and laity, 115 _et seq._;
on quarrels between religious, 116-117;
defends clergy, 120;
and replies to allegation of their mercenary spirit, 124;
and of their idle laxity of life, 127;
on abuses in religious life, 130;
on prayers and alms of clergy, 131-135;
defends clergy from charges of corruption, 136;
on faults of clergy, 143-145;
and on their morality, 145-146;
visited by Erasmus, 160-161;
share in Erasmus’s _Enconium Moriæ_, 161-162, 201;
defends Erasmus’s translation of New Testament, 169-170, 173, _note_;
defends Greek studies, 177;
urges Erasmus against Luther, 186;
opinion of Erasmus’s _Enconium Moriæ_, 202, _note_;
on spread of heresy, 213, 218;
on “New Learning” and Lutheranism, 225;
on Luther’s advocacy of liberty, 227;
on evils of Lutheranism, 228-230;
on English Bible, 237 _et seq._;
on case of Richard Hunn, 241;
on Church’s acceptance of vernacular Bibles, 242-243, 247-249;
and on false translations, 243;
and reasons for condemnation of Tyndale’s version, 243, 260-270;
on reverence of images, 289-291, 293-298;
on prayer, 307;
on pilgrimages, 419 _et seq._, 425 _et seq._;
on relics, 429;
on indulgences, 437
Morebath, village of, well-supported church, 337
Mors, Roderigo, his “Lamentation,” 440
Mortality among pilgrims, 418
Mortmain, lands in, 54
Mortuaries, 53, 140
Morysine, Richard, 105, 107, _note_
Mountjoy, Lord, 159, 161, 164
Music, pre-Reformation progress in, 12-13;
Richard Pace quoted on, 35
Mystery plays, 316 _et seq._
National churches, opposed by Erasmus, 182, _note_
National feeling and the Papacy, 82 _et seq._
National library, suggested, 49
Nevill, Archbishop, 281
“New Learning” defined, 15 _et seq._;
its purely religious application, 16 _et seq._;
result of, 50;
founded on Luther’s teaching, 225
New Testament, Erasmus’s translation, 168 _et seq._;
English versions destroyed, 236;
Tyndale version, and Luther’s share in it, 252 _et seq._
Nicholas V., Pope, 96
Nicholas of Cusa, reforms in Germany, 6;
opinion on Constantine’s gift to Pope, 96
“Noah and his Sons,” religious play, 320
Nobility, attitude to clergy, 136
Norwich, Visitations of Diocese of, 43;
Benedictine Cathedral Priory of, _ibid._
Nottinghamshire, chantries in, 401-402, 406
Obits, 399 _et seq._
Œcolampadius, 184, 214
“Open Bible,” 236, 246, 273, 275
Orders, religious, their graduates at Oxford, 42;
suggested alterations in constitutions, 129;
hostility of Erasmus, 158
Ordinations, proposed prohibition regarding, 63;
abuses in, 107, 148;
action by Convocation, 148-149;
William de Melton on, 149-153, _note_;
reformers on, 225, 232
Oxford, Register of Graduates at, 41-42;
refounding of Durham College at, 48;
heresy at, 227;
Constitution or Synod of, 238, 247, 280
Pace, Richard, befriended by Bishop Langton, 33;
his _De Fructu_, 33, _note_;
at foreign universities, 34;
the Pope’s library, _ibid._;
remarks on music, 35;
indebtedness to Abbot Bere, 40;
supports Greek studies, 177
Pagula, Walter, 309
Papal Commissions, 105, 439
Papal jurisdiction, meaning of renunciation, 78;
general acceptance, 79;
books against, 101
Papal prerogatives, in England, 52, 107-108;
in France, 77
Papal supremacy, 83 et seq.;
rejection of, 90;
English belief in, 93-95;
rejection defended by Bishop Tunstall, 109;
Erasmus on, 190, and _note_, 194-195
Pardons, 124, 435 _et seq._
Parish churches, sanctuary privileges, 57;
religious teaching in, 280 _et seq._
Parish life, 323 _et seq._;
devotion of people, 325;
care of the churches, 328;
raising of money, 340;
brotherhoods, 347
Parliament, legislation on mortuaries, 53, 141;
and on immunity of clergy, 66;
need for settlement of religious divisions, 60;
suggested legislation, 55, 62, 71;
right of legislation, 141;
transfers powers of Convocation to Crown, 153;
petition of Commons against spirituality, _ibid._;
authorises destruction of guilds, 380
Paul III., Pope, 105, 439
Paul IV., Pope, 438
Payment for “Pardons,” 435 _et seq._
Peckham, or Pecham, Archbishop, 280, 286
Penance, 282
Pensions, 108, _note_
Pensioners, university, 43
Pepwell, publisher, 310, _note_
Petition of House of Commons against spirituality, 153
_Pilgrimage of Perfection_, quoted, 83
Pilgrimages, State supervision urged, 62;
objections to, 184, 293, 415;
importance, 416;
foreign, 416;
to England, 418
Pincern, Bartolomeo, 96
Pinners, Guild of, 368-369
Plays, mystery, 316 _et seq._, 342
Pocket, the people’s, a clue to religious changes, 52
Pole, Cardinal, 48, 107
Politian, Angelo, 25, 28
Pomeranus, 214
Poor, right to benefices, 55;
injury to by confiscations, 382, 402 _et seq._;
bequests to, 397-398
Pope, Sir Thomas, 48
Pope, the, and Sanctuary, 55 _et seq._;
pre-Reformation loyalty to, 79;
powers in England before Reformation, 80 _et seq._;
spiritual and temporal power in conflict, 82;
position as head of Church, 83 _et seq._;
rejection of his supremacy, 90;
imprisoned, 94;
English acceptance of his supremacy, 93-95;
Constantine’s gift to, 95;
wars of, 97;
temporal power of, 97-100, 103-104;
authority as Peter’s successor, 90, 99-100, 103;
works against character of, 101-104;
commission appointed by, 105;
how deceived, _ibid._;
recommendations of commission, 107;
sermon against, 109;
object of attacks on, 110;
Erasmus’s attitude to, 189-190, 193-195, 197;
Erasmus’s satire on, 202, and _note_;
refuses to grant Henry’s divorce, 208, and _note_
Powell, Edward, theologian, quoted on papal supremacy, 85
Power, spiritual and temporal, 70, 72-73, 82;
dialogue on, 73 _et seq._, 98;
the king’s, 75
_Praier and Complaynte of the Ploweman_, 17, and _note_, 223
Prayers, for Pope, 110;
of clergy and religious, 131;
Sir Thos. More on, 307;
daily, 313;
for the dead, 399
Preaching at St Paul’s Cross, 67, 69;
style of against Pope condemned, 92;
in parish churches, 281, 283;
more important than mass, 284-285
“Prick song,” or part music, 12, 13
“Primer,” the, 216, 223-224, 286
Printing, responsible for spread of heresy, 213;
religious works predominate in earliest, 315-316
Psalter, the, 223-224
Purgatory, 61, 225, 231, 387, 399, 405, 437
Pynson, printer, 298
Reformation, impossibility of writing history of, 3;
revival of letters not due to, 7-8, 15;
adverse effect on learning, 9, 20, 41 _et seq._;
English attitude to Pope prior to, 78-79;
share of divorce question in, 208, and _note_;
similar in England to Luther’s principles, 231;
meaning, 82, 279;
share of Wycliffe and Lollards in, 209 _et seq._;
effect upon church art, 331;
and poverty, 358
Relics, honour of, 415 _et seq._, 429 _et seq._
Religious, at universities, 42 _et seq._;
State interference, 61;
abuses among, 108, _note_;
reputed quarrels between, 116-117;
evils in constitutions, 129;
testimony to moral character, 137, _note_;
Mr. Brewer cited on, 147;
Erasmus on, 202
Religious teaching, alleged neglect of, 278;
Reformation not directly connected with, 279;
extent and character, 280 _et seq._;
nature and effect, 288 _et seq._;
books used by clergy in, 309 _et seq._;
religious plays, 316 _et seq._
Renaissance, definition of, 14;
in England, _ibid._;
earlier than generally supposed, 15
Restitution, argued, 125;
a case involving, 140
Reuchlin, 180-181, 184, 186, 187
Reverence of images, 289 _et seq._
Ridley, Lancelot, commentaries on Scriptures, 104, 111, and _note_,
273-274;
on devotion to saints, 422-423;
on pilgrimages and images, 424
Roberts, John, his _Mustre of scismatyke bysshops of Rome_, 101, and
_note_
Rogers, Mr. Thorold, cited, 356 _et seq._, 360-361, 364, 403
Rome, classical revival in, 203-206;
sack of, 230;
pilgrimages to, 416
Roper, John, 102, _note_
Roper, Mary and Margaret, 37, _note_, 41, _note_
Roy, Friar, 215, 222
Rule of life, daily, 286-287
Rules of religious orders, suggested examination, 129
Sacrament of the Altar, Dr. Richard Smythe on, 216-217, 273, _note_;
Hytton on, 226
Sacraments, English reformers on, 225, 231;
attack on, 271
Sadolet, Cardinal, 107, 108, _note_, 439
Saint-German, Christopher, lawyer, 53, and _note_;
attitude to Church, 53, 115;
cited on mortuaries, 53, 140;
on lands in mortmain and benefices, 54-55;
on sanctuary and benefit, 55;
on churchyards, 60;
on clerical duties, _ibid._;
on need for State interference, _ibid._;
on Purgatory, 61;
on State regulation of religious life, 61;
and of matrimony, 62;
on miracles, _ibid._;
on other debateable questions, 63;
on tithes, _ibid._, 142;
on power of clergy, 65;
on king’s headship, _ibid._;
on clerical immunity, 69;
on holidays, 71;
his _Salem and Bizance_, 71, 115, 118;
on position of clergy as individuals, 72;
controversy with More, 115 _et seq._;
attacks on clergy, 119 _et seq._;
alleged mercenary spirit among clergy, 123;
on election of abbots, 129;
on constitutions of religious orders, _ibid._;
on causes of dislike of clergy by laity, 138;
on indulgences, 435, 440
Saints, reverence of images of, 289 _et seq._;
amount of honour due to, 304, 306, 308;
devotion to, 423, and _note_, 431 _et seq._
_Salem and Bizance_, Saint-German’s _Dyalogue of_, 71, 115, 118,
_note_, 122, 144
Sanctuary, difficulty of the subject, 55;
a danger to the State, _ibid._;
case of John Savage, 56 _et seq._;
Papal Bull granted to Henry VII., 56, _note_;
the subject examined by Star Chamber, 58
Savage, John, his plea of sanctuary, 56
Scaliger, cited, 166
Scholars, poor, bequests to, 396
Screens, excellence of pre-Reformation work, 12
Scripture, Holy, key of position of English reformers, 231;
translations of, 234, 236 _et seq._;
study of advocated by Church, 244, 248, 275, _note_
See of Rome, supremacy of, 79 _et seq._
Selby, chantries at, 411
Selling, Prior William, birth and education, 24;
real name, 24, and _note_;
studies at foreign universities, 25;
takes his degree in theology, 25;
industrious book collector, 25;
good work at Christchurch, 26;
returns to Rome, 26, and _note_;
establishes Greek at Christchurch, 27;
as prior, 27, and _note_;
member of an embassy to the Pope, 31, and _note_, 56, _note_;
continued interest in literary revival, 31;
Greek translation, 31;
fate of his library, 32;
influence, 33
_Sermo Exhortatorius_, 149
Sermons, Church, more important than the Mass, 283, 284-285
Sharpe, Dr., 359
Shrines, pilgrimages to, 416 _et seq._
Simony, clergy charged with, 146
Slander and libel, jurisdiction pertaining to, 65
Smith, Mr. Toulmin, on guilds, 364, 366, 381
Smythe or Smith, Dr. Richard, 216, 272, 273, and _note_
Social conditions before Reformation, 351 _et seq._;
case of the poor, 353
_Soul’s Garden_, the, 214, _note_
Sovereignty of the Pope, 97-100, 103-104, 107
Spiritual power, temporal derived from, 70
Spongia, the, of Erasmus, 187 _et seq._
Standish, Dr. Henry, on immunity of clergy, 67;
charged before convocation, 67;
on lesser orders, 68
Standish, John, archdeacon, 234, 248, 249, _note_, 270, 271
St. Giorgio, Venice, abbot of, 105
St. John of Jerusalem, priory of, 56
St. John the Baptist, head of, 430
St. Paul’s Cross, preaching at, 67, 91;
testaments burnt at, 245, 256, and _note_
St. Peter, Catholic succession from, 90, _note_;
vicarship, 99-100
Star chamber, 58
State, jurisdiction of, 51;
right of interference in temporalities, 53, 60-64, 72;
legislates concerning mortuaries, 53, 140;
limits to State interference, 54;
power claimed for, 55, 60-64;
punishment by for spiritual offences, 65;
protecting power of, 75;
destruction of guilds by, 380-381
Stokesley, William, 34
Stubbs, Bishop, 354, 356
Students, distress of at university, 46
Sturmius, John, 105, 106, 107, _note_
Suffolk, chantries in, 407
Sunday, legal status of, 71
Superstition, in devotion, 293, 297, 302;
condemned, 314
_Supplication of Beggars_, the, 213, 221
Surtees Society, publications, 319
Tailors, Guild of, 371
Taverns, frequented by clergy, 151
Teaching, religious. _See_ Religious teaching
Temporalities, right of State interference in, 53 _et seq._;
difference between and spiritual jurisdiction, 72;
clearly defined in Spain, 76
Temporal power, derived from spiritual, 70;
of the Pope, 97-100, 103-104, 107
Theologians, Erasmus’s satire on, 201
Tithes, the lay and ecclesiastical cases, 63-64;
Saint-German quoted on, 142
Torkington, Sir Richard, rector of Mulbarton, 418
_Towneley Mysteries_, the, 319
Tradition and English Reformers, 231
Translations, of Holy Scripture, 236 _et seq._
Trentals, 123, 124, 138, _note_
Trevelyan, George Macaulay, cited, 240, _note_
Trinity, feast of at Compostella, 217
Trojans, opponents of Greek study, 35
Tunstall, Bishop, 29, _note_, 34, and _note_, 109, 169, 175, _note_,
185, 198-199, 213, 214, _note_, 255, 256
Tyll. _See_ Selling
Tyndale, More’s confutation of, 87-88, 118, 119, 136;
charges clergy with immorality, 145;
use of word congregation for church, 173, _note_;
attribution of _Enconium Moriæ_ to More, 202, _note_;
books prohibited, 213;
English Testament, 220;
and other books, 220-223;
advocates liberty, 228;
influence, 231;
English Testament condemned, 236, 243, 251, 255 _et seq._, 276;
demand for his works, 250;
birth and early life, 252;
joins Luther, 252;
Luther’s share in his Testament, 252 _et seq._;
his revised Testament, 260;
More’s examination of his Testament, 260-270;
on indulgences, 437
Unity of pre-Reformation belief, 324
Universities, effect of Reformation on, 9, 41 _et seq._;
monastic students at, 42 _et seq._;
poverty of students at after Reformation, 46
Urban III., Pope, sanctuary grant of, 56
Urbanus Regius, cited, 18, 19, _note_
Urswick, Christopher, 32, _note_
Valla, Laurence, 96
Veneration of relics, 415, 429 _et seq._;
of saints, 431-432
Venetian, a, cited on attitude of ecclesiastics to learning, 37;
on religious condition of the English, 324;
on beauty of English churches, 332
Venice, Aldine press at, 160
Venn, J., historian of Gonville College, quoted, 43-45
Vicarages, appropriations of cancelled, 55
Vives, Ludovico, scholar, 36, _note_, 37, 41, _note_
Von Hutten, Ulrich, tract on Constantine’s donation to the Pope, 96;
attacks on Erasmus, 186 _et seq._
Warham, Archbishop, 36, and _note_, 69, 112, 160, 161, 162, 168, 215,
258
Waylande, John, printer, 232
Welsh, vernacular devotional books for, 311, _note_
Wesselius, 214
Westacre, Augustinian priory of, 43
Westminster, the abbot of, 58-59;
pardon purchased for, 124;
doles at, 132
Wey, William, itineraries of, 416
Whitford, Richard, 83, 232-233, 283, 305, 312
Wills, ecclesiastical administration of, 65;
pre-Reformation, 387 _et seq._;
bequests for pilgrimages, 416
Winchcombe, abbot of, 67
Winchester, wall paintings of Lady Chapel at, 11;
fair at, 379
Wolffgang, printer, 309
Wolsey, Cardinal, attitude to revival of learning, 36;
hears the Savage sanctuary case, 58;
upholds rights of Crown, 68;
opposes temporal punishments of clergy, _ibid._;
present at burning of books, 256, _note_
Worcester, Tiptoft, Earl of, 23, and _note_
Worcester, William, antiquary, 26, 27
Work, definite, lack of among clergy, 137, _note_
_Worke entytled of the olde God and the new_, 102, and _note_
Wycliffe, share in Reformation, 209 _et seq._;
books prohibited, 214;
origin of Wycliffite Scriptures, 237, 247
Wyer, Robert, printer, 285
Yorkshire, chantries in, 411
Zwingle, books of prohibited, 213-214
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. Edinburgh & London
_A Popular Edition._
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price 10s. 6d. Net,
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A NEW REVISED AND CORRECTED EDITION OF
FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET’S
Henry the Eighth and the English Monasteries.
(Of which Six Editions at 24s. have already been sold.)
Contents.
CHAP.
I. The Dawn of Difficulties.
II. Cardinal Wolsey and the Monasteries.
III. The Holy Maid of Kent.
IV. The Friars Observant and the Carthusians.
V. The Visitation of Monasteries in 1535-36.
VI. The Parliament of 1536 and the suppression of the Lesser
Monasteries.
VII. The “Comperta Monastica” and other charges against the Monks.
VIII. Thomas Cromwell, the King’s Vicar-General.
IX. The chief accusers of the Monks--Layton, Legh, Ap Rice, and
London.
X. The Dissolution of the Lesser Monasteries.
XI. The Rising in Lincolnshire.
XII. The Pilgrimage of Grace.
XIII. The Second Northern Rising.
XIV. Dissolution by Attainder.
XV. The Suppression of Convents.
XVI. Fall of the Friars.
XVII. Progress of the General Suppression.
XVIII. The Three Benedictine Abbots.
XIX. The Monastic Spoils.
XX. The Spending of the Spoils.
XXI. The Ejected Monks and their Pensions.
XXII. Some Results of the Suppression.
APPENDIX: Accounts of the Augmentation Office, &c. GENERAL
INDEX.
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_New Work on English Monastic History._
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The English Black Monks of St. Benedict
A Sketch of their history from the coming of St. Augustine to
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BY THE REV. ETHELRED L. TAUNTON.
Contents.
_VOLUME THE FIRST._
CHAP.
I. The Coming of the Monks.
II. The Norman Lanfranc.
III. The Benedictine Constitution.
IV. The Monk in the World.
V. The Monk in his Monastery.
VI. Women under the Rule.
VII. Chronicles of the Congregation. I.
VIII. The Downfall.
IX. John Fecknam, Abbot.
X. The State of English Catholics, 1559-1601.
APPENDIX: The Consuetudinary of St. Augustine’s, Canterbury.
_VOLUME THE SECOND._
CHAP.
XI. The Benedictine Mission.
XII. Douai and Dieuleward.
XIII. The Renewal of the English Congregation.
XIV. Dom Leander and his Mission.
XV. Chronicles of the Congregation. II.
XVI. St. Gregory’s Monastery.
XVII. St. Lawrence’s Monastery.
XVIII. St. Edmund’s Monastery.
XIX. St. Malo, Lambspring, and Cambrai.
XX. Other Benedictine Houses. Denizen and Alien.
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and in his monastery, and that describing the life of women
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clear way he has set it down for the benefit of his readers.”
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Augustine Baker, the true author of the ‘Apostolatus,’ who,
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Westminster, claimed the inheritance of the rights and
privileges of the original congregation, and the power, by
professing others, to hand on the inheritance to posterity.
The story of the English Benedictine congregation in its
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=Literary World.=--“The story of the English Benedictines is
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Order--not the exact word, but no better offers--has a striking
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of the Order was that it consisted of independent homes, and
was not like most fraternities, a great whole subdivided into
communities. Upon this Father Taunton again and again insists,
and his view is indisputable. Of the two volumes before us
the first will be more generally interesting to Englishmen,
but it may be well to prepare our readers for its perusal by
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the Benedictines were ever closely in touch with the people
among whom they laboured. Mr. Taunton is not an ecclesiastical
zealot, and he writes with admirable impartiality, as witness
his outspoken condemnation of the intrigues of Rome and the
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Elizabeth and James. Hence his opinions on such a question
as the social consequences to England of the closing of the
monasteries is deserving of greater weight.”
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There is doubtless room for such a work, and it must be said
that Mr. Taunton has brought to his task abundant enthusiasm
and much painstaking research. … We cordially welcome it for
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* * * * *
_Also by F. A. GASQUET, D. D._
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, 408 Pages, Cloth, price 12s. Net.
The Old English Bible, and other Essays.
_Contents._
CHAP.
I. Notes on Mediæval Monastic Libraries.
II. The Monastic Scriptorium.
III. A Forgotten English Preacher.
IV. The Pre-Reformation English Bible(1).
V. The Pre-Reformation English Bible(2).
VI. Religious Instruction in England during the Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Centuries.
VII. A Royal Christmas in the Fifteenth Century.
VIII. The Canterbury Claustral School in the Fifteenth Century.
IX. The Note-books of William Worcester, a Fifteenth-Century
Antiquary.
X. Hampshire Recusants. With a complete Index.
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* * * * *
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_Contents of the Volumes._
JANUARY: 170 Biographies, with 45 Illustrations (Vol. 1).
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MARCH: 187 Biographies, with 42 Illustrations (Vol. 3).
APRIL: 141 Biographies, with 24 Illustrations (Vol. 4).
MAY: 153 Biographies, with 26 Illustrations (Vol. 5).
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NOVEMBER: 185 Biographies, with 47 Illustrations (Vols. 13 and 14).
DECEMBER: 146 Biographies, with 22 Illustrations (Vol. 15).
APPENDIX VOLUME.
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=Guardian.=--“Whoever reads the more important lives in the
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_=New Work by the Rev. F. A. GASQUET, D.D., O.S.B.=_
IMPORTANT TO STUDENTS OF THE REFORMATION PERIOD.
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price 12s. 6d. Net.
The Eve of the Reformation.
Studies in the Religious Life and Thought of the English People
in the Period preceding the Rejection of the Roman Jurisdiction
by Henry VIII. By FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET, D.D., O.S.B., Author
of “Henry VIII. and the English Monasteries,” “The Old English
Bible, and other Essays,” &c.
NOTE.--This is not a controversial work, but a study chiefly of
the literature, &c., of the period in order to see what people
were doing, saying, and thinking about before the change of
religion. As touching upon rather new ground, and at the same
time widening the field of view in the Reformation question, it
should be of great interest at the present moment.
* * * * *
_=New Illustrated Work on Palestine.=_
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with 16 Illustrations
reproduced in Colours in facsimile of the Original Paintings by
the Author, price 12s. 6d. Net.
Two Years in Palestine and Syria.
BY MARGARET THOMAS,
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“A Scamper through Spain and Tangier,” “A Hero of the
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With 16 Illustrations reproduced in Colours in facsimile of the
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NOTE.--This book is being looked forward to with great interest
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new process not as yet employed for book illustration.
* * * * *
_An Artist in Spain._
In One Volume, Super Royal 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with
Photogravure Portrait, after the Painting by JAN VETH, and 39
Illustrations, price 12s. 6d. Net.
Spain: The Story of a Journey.
BY JOZEF ISRAËLS.
With a Portrait in Photogravure, and 39 reproductions of
Sketches by the Author. Translated from the Dutch by ALEXANDER
TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS.
NOTE.--The author and illustrator of this book (Jozef Israëls)
has long been acknowledged the most popular painter of the day,
in this, the best sense, that his work claims the admiration
not only of the critics, the collectors, and the _dilettanti_,
but also of those uncultured people who, understanding nothing
of painting, having no care for artisticity or virtuosity,
cannot fail to be penetrated by the poetry that fills each of
the veteran’s canvases.
* * * * *
_A History of Steeple-Chasing._
In Super Royal 8vo, uniform with “The Quorn Hunt and its
Masters,” VYNER’S “Notitia Venatica,” and RADCLIFFE’S “Noble
Science of Fox-Hunting.” With 12 Illustrations, chiefly drawn
by HENRY ALKEN, and all coloured by hand, also 16 Head and Tail
Pieces, drawn by HENRY ALKEN and others. Cloth, Gilt Top, price
21s. net.
A History of Steeple-Chasing.
BY WILLIAM C. A. BLEW, M.A.,
Author of “The Quorn Hunt and its Masters,” Editor of VYNER’S
“Notitia Venatica,” and RADCLIFFE’S “Noble Science of
Fox-Hunting.”
With 12 Illustrations, chiefly drawn by HENRY ALKEN, and all
coloured by hand, also 16 Head and Tail Pieces, drawn by HENRY
ALKEN and others.
* * * * *
_New Volume, being the Fifth of the Works of the late Miss
Manning_,
Author of “Mary Powell,” &c. &c.
In Crown 8vo, with Illustrations by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT
RAILTON, price 6s., Cloth Elegant, Gilt Top.
The Colloquies of Edward Osborne.
Citizen and Cloth-Worker of London.
With 10 Illustrations by JOHN JELLICOE.
_Uniform in Size and Price, by the same Author._
The Household of Sir Thos. More.
Cherry and Violet. A Tale of the Great Plague.
The Maiden and Married Life of Mary Powell (AFTERWARDS MISTRESS
MILTON);
And the Sequel thereto, Deborah’s Diary.
The Old Chelsea Bun-Shop. A Tale of the Last Century.
_=Some Press Notices.=_
=Athenæum.=--“The late Miss Manning’s delicate and fanciful
little cameos of historical romance possess a flavour of their
own.… The numerous Illustrations by Mr. Jellicoe and Mr.
Railton are particularly happy.”
=Public Opinion.=--“It is an example of a pure and beautiful
style of literature.”
=Spectator.=--“A delightful book.… Twenty-five illustrations by
John Jellicoe and Herbert Railton show off the book to the best
advantage.”
=Graphic.=--“A picture, not merely of great charm, but of
infinite value in helping the many to understand a famous
Englishman and the times in which he lived.”
=Literary World.=--“A charming reprint.… Every feature of the
pictorial work is in keeping with the spirit of the whole.”
=Scotsman.=--“This clever work of the historical imagination
has gone through several editions, and is one of the most
successful artistic creations of its kind.”
=Glasgow Herald.=--“An extremely beautiful reprint of the late
Miss Manning’s quaint and charming work.”
=Sketch.=--“In the front rank of the gift-books of the season
is this beautiful and very cleverly illustrated reprint of a
work which has lasting claims to popularity.”
=Magazine of Art.=--“The grace and beauty of the late Miss
Manning’s charming work, ‘The Household of Sir Thomas More,’
has been greatly enhanced by the new edition now put forth by
Mr. John C. Nimmo.… This remarkable work is not to be read
without keen delight.”
=Academy.=--“It is illustrated cleverly and prettily, and
tastefully bound, so as to make an attractive gift-book.”
* * * * *
_A Cheaper Edition._
In Two Volumes, Extra Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with Portrait
and 32 Illustrations from Contemporary Sources, price 12s. Net.
The Reminiscences and Recollections of Captain Gronow.
Being Anecdotes of the Camp, Court, Clubs, and Society,
1810-1860. With Portrait and 32 Illustrations from Contemporary
Sources by JOSEPH GREGO.
⁂ This is a remarkably cheap edition of this favourite and
popular book.
* * * * *
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with 6 Photogravure
Portraits and 30 other Illustrations from Contemporary Sources,
price 7s. 6d. Net.
Words on Wellington.
The Duke--Waterloo--The Ball.
BY SIR WILLIAM FRASER, BARONET,
M.A., Christ Church, Oxford.
With 6 Photogravure Portraits, and 30 other Illustrations from
Contemporary Sources.
⁂ This book was published in 1889, and the whole of the
edition printed was immediately absorbed. The present new
edition is illustrated with Photogravure Portraits and other
illustrations reproduced especially for this edition from rare
and contemporary engravings selected by Mr. Joseph Grego.
* * * * *
_New Volume of Poems by Violet Fane._
One Volume, Small 4to, printed on Arnold’s Hand-Made Paper,
and bound in Half-Calf, Gilt Top. Two hundred and sixty copies
printed for England and America on Arnold’s Hand-Made Paper,
each numbered, type distributed, price 10s. 6d. net. Uniform
with previous volumes by the same author, viz., “Poems” and
“Under Cross and Crescent.”
Betwixt Two Seas. Poems and Ballads.
BY VIOLET FANE.
Written at Constantinople and Therapia.
* * * * *
_New Library Edition of_
_STEELE AND ADDISON’S “SPECTATOR.”_
In Eight Volumes, Extra Crown 8vo, with Original Engraved
Portraits and Vignettes, Cloth, price 7s. Net per Volume. Sold
only in Sets, £2, 16s. Net.
The Spectator.
EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY GEORGE A. AITKEN, Author of “The Life of Richard Steele,” &c.
_From the Editor’s Preface._
“The present edition of the ‘Spectator’ has been printed from a
copy of the original collected and revised edition published in
1712-15, with the exception that modern rules of spelling have
been followed. The principal variations between the text as
corrected by the authors and the original version in the folio
numbers have at the same time been indicated in the notes; it
has not been thought necessary to point out slight differences
of no importance. In the notes I have aimed at the greatest
conciseness compatible with the satisfactory explanation of
the less obvious allusions to literary or social matters. I
have acknowledged my principal obligations to more recent
editors, but in some cases notes have been handed down from
one editor to another, and cannot be traced to their original
author. Many of the older notes, moreover, were obsolete, or
needed correction in the light of subsequent knowledge. I have
endeavoured to preserve what is of value, without burdening
the pages with the contradictions and inaccuracies which are
inevitable in a _variorum_ edition.”
_Some Press Notices._
=Pall Mall Gazette.=--“Undoubtedly the best library reprint of
this famous periodical that has been published.”
=Daily News.=--“If handsome print, paper, and binding, together
with careful annotation, have attractions in the eyes of lovers
of standard books, there ought to be a good demand for this new
edition.”
=Scotsman.=--“An edition in which it is a pleasure to read, and
one which would adorn any library.”
=Notes and Queries.=--“We congratulate the publisher and the
editor on the termination of a useful task, and we commend to
the public this eminently desirable edition of our English
masterpiece--the most attractive and serviceable yet printed.”
=Birmingham Post.=--“An edition of the ‘Spectator’ which, as
a book for the library, has no equal, whether we consider the
stately and appropriate form, the typographical excellence,
or the erudite and finished editing. Added to these is the
crowning grace of a full and complete index. It is a luxury to
read the early eighteenth century classic in such an edition as
this.”
=Glasgow Herald.=--“All that the most fastidious lover of
books could desire. Its size--extra crown octavo--is stately,
without being cumbersome. The buckram cloth binding is neat,
substantial, and serviceable--exactly what is required for a
library of which the contents are intended for use as well as
for show. The notes supplied by Mr. George A. Aitken, as might
be expected from his exceptional acquaintance with the period,
enable the reader to understand and appreciate the numerous
allusions to literary and social matters which occur in most of
the papers.”
* * * * *
_NEW ILLUSTRATED EDITION IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES._
Extra Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price 5s. per Volume Net.
Also in Ruby Coloured Cloth. Gilt Top, Flat Back, Elegant, Sold
in Sets only, price £4 Net.
THE REV. S. BARING-GOULD’S
Lives of the Saints.
With a Calendar for Every Day in the Year.
New Edition, Revised, with Introduction and Additional Lives of
English Martyrs Cornish and Welsh Saints, and Full Indices to
the Entire Work. Illustrated by over 400 Engravings.
_Contents of the Volumes._
JANUARY: 170 Biographies, with 45 Illustrations (Vol. 1).
FEBRUARY: 174 Biographies, with 29 Illustrations (Vol. 2).
MARCH: 187 Biographies, with 42 Illustrations (Vol. 3).
APRIL: 141 Biographies, with 24 Illustrations (Vol. 4).
MAY: 153 Biographies, with 26 Illustrations (Vol. 5).
JUNE: 200 Biographies, with 39 Illustrations (Vol. 6).
JULY: 223 Biographies, with 34 Illustrations (Vols. 7 and 8).
AUGUST: 215 Biographies, with 39 Illustrations (Vol. 9).
SEPTEMBER: 210 Biographies, with 34 Illustrations (Vol. 10).
OCTOBER: 220 Biographies, with 28 Illustrations (Vols. 11 and 12).
NOVEMBER: 185 Biographies, with 47 Illustrations (Vols. 13 and 14).
DECEMBER: 146 Biographies, with 22 Illustrations (Vol. 15).
APPENDIX VOLUME.
Additional Biographies of English Martyrs, Cornish and Welsh
Saints, Genealogies of Saintly Families, and two Indices to the
entire work (Vol. 16).
_Some Press Notices._
=Daily Chronicle.=--“When it is remembered that in these two
volumes (January and February) the biographies of more than
four hundred saints are to be found, and that in every case the
authorities from which they are derived are set forth; that
in the Introduction the reader is furnished with a succinct
account of the literature of the subject which is the best
_résumé_ that we have in English; that errors in the previous
edition are not left uncorrected--it will be seen how much
is to be expected from this new issue of Mr. Baring-Gould’s
wonderful work, and how much will be found in the sixteen
volumes which will be required to complete it.… No student of
history--to go no further--can dispense with such a valuable
book of reference. There is nothing like it in our language.”
=Standard.=--“The earlier volumes of the new edition are before
us, and even a cursory examination is enough to show that the
work has been thoroughly revised.… The book is of real value,
since it is written with scholarly care, imaginative vision,
and a happy union of charity and courage.”
=Guardian.=--“Whoever reads the more important lives in the
sixteen volumes of which this new edition is to consist, will
be introduced to a region of which historians for the most part
tell him little, and yet one that throws constant light upon
some of the obscurest points of ordinary histories. For this,
and for the pleasure and profit thence derived, he will have to
thank Mr. Baring-Gould.”
=Scotsman.=--“Mr. Baring-Gould, Anglican priest though he
be, fulfils the promise of his original edition in so far as
he does not obtrude either prejudice or sectarianism into his
record of these Saints.”
=British Review and National Observer.=--“The new edition of
Mr. Baring-Gould’s familiar work may well be called monumental,
both on account of its size, and the variety and completeness
of the information to be found in it.”
=Notes and Queries.=--“It is impossible to mention the various
sources whence have been drawn the illustrations, which will
render this work, to those to whom the subject appeals, the
most acceptable, as it is certainly the handsomest, of existing
editions.”
=Weekly Sun.=--“We unhesitatingly commend it as well to the
lover of mediævalism as the student who must have at hand
encyclopædic volumes of reference. No library that aims at
being comprehensive can afford to be without it. No student of
ecclesiastical and cathedral antiquities can neglect it if he
wishes to make a successful study of his particular subject.”
=Christian World.=--“The new edition is tastefully got up, and
is a worthy setting of a great literary enterprise. The ‘Lives
of the Saints’ is a human story of unfading interest.”
* * * * *
_Works by FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET, D.D._
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price 10s. 6d. Net,
pp. 528.
A NEW REVISED AND CORRECTED EDITION OF
FRANCIS AIDAN GASQUET’S
Henry the Eighth, and the English monasteries.
Of which Six Editions at 24s. have already been sold.
_Extracts from Press Notices._
=Athenæum.=--“We may say in brief, if what we have already said
is not sufficient to show it, that a very important chapter of
English history is here treated with a fulness, minuteness,
and lucidity which will not be found in previous accounts, and
we sincerely congratulate Dr. Gasquet on having made such an
important contribution to English historical literature.”
=Guardian.=--“A learned, careful, and successful vindication
of the personal character of the monks.… In Dr. Gasquet’s
skilful hands the dissolution of the monasteries assumes the
proportions of a Greek tragedy.”
* * * * *
In One Volume, Demy 8vo, 408 Pages, Cloth, price 12s. Net.
The Old English Bible, and other Essays.
_Contents._
CHAP.
I. Notes on Mediæval Monastic Libraries.
II. The Monastic Scriptorium.
III. A Forgotten English Preacher.
IV. The Pre-Reformation English Bible(1).
V. The Pre-Reformation English Bible(2).
VI. Religious Instruction in England during the Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Centuries.
VII. A Royal Christmas in the Fifteenth Century.
VIII. The Canterbury Claustral School in the Fifteenth Century.
IX. The Note-books of William Worcester, a Fifteenth-Century
Antiquary.
X. Hampshire Recusants. With a complete Index.
_Some Press Notices._
=Times.=--“Full of the learning and research which Dr. Gasquet
has made so peculiarly his own.”
=Athenæum.=--“Whatever Dr. Gasquet writes is of interest,
and thanks are due to him for these essays.… Full of rare
information, and real contributions to history.”
=British Review and National Observer.=--“Dr. Gasquet has
started a very curious controversy, which will entertain even
those whom it does not seriously interest, and will familiarise
them incidentally with many facts of history.… The remaining
essays are also rich in quaint, curious information.”
=Scotsman.=--“He has thrown much light on obscure passages and
features of later mediæval history in our country.”
=Notes and Queries.=--“Dr. Gasquet writes clearly and
forcibly, and when touching on controversial points, as he
frequently has to do, he manifests a studied moderation, and
liberality.”
* * * * *
_Cheap Illustrated Edition now Completed in 24 Volumes._
Crown 8vo, tastefully bound in Green Cloth, Gilt, in which
binding any of the Novels may be bought separately, price 3s.
6d. each. Also in Special Cloth Binding, Flat Backs, Gilt Tops,
supplied in Sets only of 24 Volumes, price £4, 4s.
THE LARGE TYPE BORDER EDITION OF THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
Edited with Introductory Essays and Notes to each Novel
(supplementing those of the Author) by ANDREW LANG. With 250
Original Illustrations from Drawings and Paintings specially
executed by eminent Artists.
⁂ This is generally conceded to be the best edition of the
Waverley Novels, not only as regards editing and illustrations,
but also in point of type, printing and paper, and is complete
in 24 volumes instead of 25 as in other editions.
_List of the Volumes._
1. Waverley.
2. Guy Mannering.
3. The Antiquary.
4. Rob Roy.
5. Old Mortality.
6. The Heart of Midlothian.
7. A Legend of Montrose, and The Black Dwarf.
8. The Bride of Lammermoor.
9. Ivanhoe.
10. The Monastery.
11. The Abbot.
12. Kenilworth.
13. The Pirate.
14. The Fortunes of Nigel.
15. Peveril of the Peak.
16. Quentin Durward.
17. St. Ronan’s Well.
18. Redgauntlet.
19. The Betrothed, and The Talisman.
20. Woodstock.
21. The Fair Maid of Perth.
22. Anne of Geierstein.
23. Count Robert of Paris, and The Surgeon’s Daughter.
24. Castle Dangerous, Chronicles of the Canongate, &c.
_Some of the Artists contributing to the “Border Edition,”_
Sir J. E. Millais, Bart., P.R.A.
Lockhart Bogle.
Gordon Browne.
D. Y. Cameron.
Frank Dadd, R.I.
R. de Los Rios.
Herbert Dicksee.
M. L. Gow, R.I.
W. B. Hole, R.S.A.
John Pettie, R.A.
Sir James D. Linton, P.R.I.
Ad. Lalauze.
J. E. Lauder, R.S.A.
W. Hatherell, R.I.
Sam Bough, R.S.A.
W. E. Lockhart, R.S.A.
R. W. Macbeth, A.R.A.
H. Macbeth-Raeburn.
J. Macwhirter, A.R.A., R.S.A.
W. Q. Orchardson, R.A.
James Orrock, R.I.
Walter Paget.
Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A.
Frank Short.
W. Strang.
Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A., P.R.S.A.
Arthur Hopkins, A.R.W.S.
R. Herdman, R.S.A.
D. Herdman.
Hugh Cameron, R.S.A.
_Some Press Notices of the Large Type Border Edition of the
Waverley Novels._
=The Spectator.=--“We trust that this fine edition of our
greatest and most poetical of novelists will attain, if it has
not already done so, the high popularity it deserves. To all
Scott’s lovers it is a pleasure to know that, despite the daily
and weekly inrush of ephemeral fiction, the sale of his works
is said by the booksellers to rank next below Tennyson’s in
poetry, and above that of everybody else in prose.”
=The Times.=--“It would be difficult to find in these days
a more competent and sympathetic editor of Scott than his
countryman, the brilliant and versatile man of letters who
has undertaken the task; and if any proof were wanted either
of his qualifications or of his skill and discretion in
displaying them, Mr. Lang has furnished it abundantly in his
charming Introduction to ‘Waverley.’ The editor’s own notes are
judiciously sparing, but conspicuously to the point, and they
are very discreetly separated from those of the author, Mr.
Lang’s laudable purpose being to illustrate and explain Scott,
not to make the notes a pretext for displaying his own critical
faculty and literary erudition. The illustrations by various
competent hands are beautiful in themselves and beautifully
executed, and, altogether, the ‘Border Edition’ of the Waverley
Novels bids fair to become the classical edition of the great
Scottish classic.”
=The Athenæum.=-“The handsome ‘Border Edition’ has been brought
by Mr. Nimmo to a successful conclusion. Mr. Nimmo deserves to
be complimented on the manner in which the Edition has been
printed and illustrated, and Mr. Lang on the way in which he
has performed his portion of the work. His Introductions have
been tasteful and readable; he has not overdone his part; and,
while he has supplied much useful information, he has by no
means overburdened the volumes with notes.”
=Notes and Queries.=--“Mr. Nimmo’s spirited and ambitious
enterprise has been conducted to a safe termination, and the
most ideal edition of the Waverley Novels in existence is now
completed.”
=Saturday Review.=--“Of all the many collections of the
Waverley Novels, Mr. Nimmo’s ‘Border Edition’ is incomparably
the most handsome and the most desirable.… Type, paper,
illustrations are altogether admirable.”
=Daily Chronicle.=--“There is absolutely no fault to be found
with it, as to paper, type, or arrangement.”
=Magazine of Art.=--“Size, type, paper, and printing, to say
nothing of the excessively liberal and charming introduction
or of the illustrations, make this perhaps the most desirable
edition of Scott ever issued on this side of the border.”
* * * * *
Two-Volume edition of The Border Waverley.
In 48 Volumes, Large Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with the 250
Etchings printed on Japanese Paper, price 6s. per Volume.
Purchasers of this beautiful edition are recommended to
complete their sets at once, as many of the Volumes are out of
print, and those still remaining will soon be.
* * * * *
_Two Important Ornithological Works by Henry Seebohm._
THE STANDARD WORK ON BRITISH BIRDS.
In Four Volumes, Royal 8vo, Cloth, with numerous Wood
Engravings and Sixty-eight Coloured Plates, price £6, 6s., now
£5, 5s. Net.
A History or British Birds.
To which is added the Author’s Notes on their Classification
and Geographical Distribution; also Sixty-eight Coloured Plates
of their Eggs. By HENRY SEEBOHM, Author of “Siberia in Europe,”
“Siberia in Asia,” &c. &c.
=Saturday Review.=--“The illustrations are as nearly perfect as
the most careful colour-printing can produce, rivalling--and it
is no slight praise--the admirable egg-pictures of Hewitson,
some of which might almost have been executed by hand; and the
book is written in an easy, pleasant style, redolent of the
field rather than of the study.”
=Zoologist.=--“The text contains not only a description of
each egg and its varieties, but also a very full account of
the life-history of each bird.… If we may conceive the works
of Yarrell and Hewitson rolled into one, with corrections,
emendations, and important additions, and with woodcuts as well
as coloured plates, such a work is Mr. Seebohm’s.”
=Nature.=--“We unhesitatingly express our opinion that since
the time of Macgillivray no such original book as Mr. Seebohm’s
has been published on British ornithology; we think that the
figures of the eggs are by far the best that have yet been
given.”
* * * * *
In One Volume, 4to, Cloth, with numerous Wood Engravings and
Twenty-one Plates of Birds, Coloured by Hand, price £5, 5s.,
now £2, 12s. 6d. Net.
_ONLY FIVE HUNDRED COPIES PRINTED._
The Geographical Distribution or the Charadriidæ;
Or, The Plovers, Sandpipers, Snipes, and their Allies.
By HENRY SEEBOHM, Author of “Siberia in Europe,” “Siberia in
Asia,” “A History of British Birds, with Coloured Illustrations
of their Eggs,” &c.
=Nature.=--“This is a handsome volume of more than 500 pages,
and is illustrated by twenty-one coloured plates, drawn in
Mr. Keulemans’s best style. The book is profusely illustrated
by woodcuts, showing the specific characters of the different
species, and these will be invaluable to the student of these
difficult birds. In fact, no work has ever been so remarkably
treated in this respect, and it will be the book of reference
for the _Charadriidæ_ for many years to come.”
* * * * *
One Volume, Super-royal 8vo, Cloth, with Two Photogravure
Plates, One Plate in Colour, and Fifty-nine other
Illustrations, price 7s. 6d. Net.
Fern Growing: Fifty Years’ Experience in Crossing and
Cultivation.
With a List of the most important Varieties and a History of
the Discovery of Multiple Parentage. By E. J. LOWE, F.R.S.,
F.L.S.
=Athenæum.=--“In some respects the most important treatise on
British ferns that has hitherto appeared.”
* * * * *
Third Edition, with Seventy-four Coloured Plates, Super-royal
8vo, Cloth, price £1, 1s.; now 10s. 6d. Net.
A Natural History or British Grasses.
By E. J. LOWE, F.R.S., F.L.S., &c.
NOTE.--This is a work not only valuable to the botanical
student for its pictorial accuracy, but of use also to the
landed proprietor and the farmer, pointing out to them those
grasses which are useful and lucrative in husbandry, and
teaching them the varied soils and positions upon which they
thrive, and explaining their qualities and the several uses
to which they are applied in many branches of manufacture and
industry.
* * * * *
_Rev. F. O. Morris’s Popular Works on Natural History._
ISSUE OF NEW AND REVISED EDITIONS.
Fourth Edition, Six Volumes, Super-royal 8vo, Cloth, with 394
Plates Coloured by Hand, price £4, 10s. Net.
A History of British Birds.
By the Rev. F. O. MORRIS, B.A.
=Times.=--“The protecting landowner, the village naturalist,
the cockney ‘oologist,’ and the schoolboy all alike owe a debt
to the Rev. F. O. Morris’s admirable work, in six volumes, on
British birds, with its beautiful hand-painted plates.”
* * * * *
Fourth Edition, Three Volumes, Super-royal 8vo, Cloth, with 248
Coloured Plates, price £2, 5s. Net.
A Natural History of the Nests and Eggs of British Birds.
By the Rev. F. O. MORRIS, B.A. Entirely Revised and brought
up to Date by W. B. TEGETMEIER, F.Z.S., Member of the British
Ornithologists’ Union, with 248 Plates chiefly Coloured by Hand.
=Times.=--“These latter (illustrations) are excellent, and
indeed are the strength of this very handsome book, which, in
its new and more accurate form, ought to find a place in many a
library.”
* * * * *
Eighth Edition, Super-royal 8vo, Cloth, with Seventy-nine
Plates Coloured by Hand, price 15s. Net.
A History of British Butterflies.
By the Rev. F. O. MORRIS, B.A.
* * * * *
Fourth Edition, Four Volumes, Royal 8vo, with 132 Plates (1933
Figures), all Coloured by Hand, price £3, 3s. Net.
A Natural History of British Moths.
By the Rev. F. O. MORRIS, B.A. With 132 Plates Coloured by Hand
(1933 Figures), and an Introduction by W. EGMONT KIRBY, M.D.
* * * * *
In Two Volumes, Super-royal 8vo, Cloth, £1, 10s. Net.
British Game Birds and Wild Fowl.
By BEVERLEY R. MORRIS, M.D. Entirely Revised and brought up to
Date by W. B. TEGETMEIER, F.Z.S. With Sixty Large Plates all
Coloured by Hand.
=Daily News.=--“Has held a unique position among works of its
class. The sixty hand-coloured plates are splendidly executed.”
* * * * *
One Volume, Large Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price 5s.
Francis Orpen Morris.
A memoir of the above-mentioned Author.
By his Son, the Rev. M. C. F. MORRIS, B.C.L., M.A., Rector of
Nunburnholme, Yorkshire. With Portrait and Two Illustrations.
=Land and Water.=--“This very interesting memoir of the
naturalist, whose works are perhaps better known among the
‘rising generation’ than those of any other authority, … gives
a remarkably clear and distinct picture of the late Mr. F. O.
Morris.”
=Yorkshire Post.=--“A book so conscientiously written as to
rank well among biographies.”
* * * * *
In Two Volumes, Large 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, price £1, 10s.
Net. With Thirty-seven Illustrations, including Three hitherto
unpublished Bird Drawings and Ten Portraits of Audubon.
Audubon, and His Journals.
By MARIA R. AUDUBON. With Notes by ELLIOTT COUES.
CONTENTS.--Audubon: A Biography. The European Journals,
1826-29. The Labrador Journal, 1833. The Missouri River
Journal, 1843. The Episodes. With a full Index.
NOTE.--To English people the name of Audubon is a familiar and
respected one, and there is little reason to doubt that the
present work, forming as it does so handsome a monument of his
life’s work, should be acceptable both to the lover of good
books and to the naturalist. The former has the attraction
of Audubon’s picturesque and engaging English style, added
to reminiscences and narratives of a diverse and fascinating
character, and a highly interesting biography of Audubon from
the pen of his granddaughter. The naturalist, on the other
hand, has here for the first time the complete and carefully
edited text of Audubon’s valuable journals, supplemented by
appropriate and interesting notes by so eminent a zoologist as
Dr. Elliott Coues. The entire publication is virtually new,
since even the European journals are here much amplified, while
the Missouri and Labrador journals are practically unpublished,
and the “Episodes” have never before appeared collectively
except in a French translation. The work is one of the widest
interest, and must at once take its place as the authoritative
biography of Audubon, as well as the first adequate
presentation of his journals, which in their now complete form
give “the man instead of the death mask.”
=Times.=--“Audubon’s unpublished manuscripts are the record
of a long, a varied, and an adventurous life, passed in
unremitting activity and indefatigable industry. We must say
at once that for the most part they are fascinating. They are
sensational, instructive, and frankly autobiographical, and
they show a many-sided man in his various aspects, with the
absolute unreserve of innocent egoism.”
=Saturday Review.=--“There is much that will interest readers
of vastly different tastes. Thus the European journals in the
first volume have an interest that is chiefly personal, and we
get interesting scraps of conversation with Sir Walter Scott,
Jeffrey, Wilson, Lord Stanley, Cuvier, St. Hilaire, Selby,
Constant, Gerard, Jardine, and Bewick, as well as many other
notables in the science, art, and literature of Edinburgh,
London, and Paris in the late twenties.”
=Spectator.=--“The two volumes present the life of the great
French-American naturalist in a most attractive form. The
journal of his voyage up the Missouri is now first given to the
world, and the freshness of his life in the woods and of his
own charming personality is not marred by any unwise editing
or comment. The illustrations are excellent, worthy of a work
dealing with the life of the man who used the instruction
received from the revolutionary painter David in his youth to
make the greatest advance in the illustration of nature ever
achieved by one man.”
=Scotsman.=--“A worthy and enduring memorial has been raised
to the great American ornithologist in the two volumes prepared
by his granddaughter. Miss Audubon’s work has been admirably
done; and the worth of the book is much enhanced by the
zoological and other notes which Dr. Coues has appended.”
* * * * *
_New Work on English Monastic History._
In Two Volumes, Demy 8vo, Cloth, price 21s. Net.
The English Black Monks of St. Benedict
A Sketch of their History from the coming of St. Augustine to
the Present Day.
By the Rev. ETHELRED L. TAUNTON.
_Some Press Notices._
=Saturday Review.=--“On the whole, it would be difficult within
the limits that the author has set for himself to write a more
interesting book. We recommend, more especially to the general
reader, the three chapters on the life of a monk in the world
and in his monastery, and that describing the life of women
under the rule.”
=Literature.=--“We are struck with the skill with which he has
mastered the details of a somewhat complicated story, and the
clear way he has set it down for the benefit of his readers.”
=Record.=--“We must add a word to express our sense of the
interest and value of the appendix to Volume I., which is
a translation of the Consuetudinary of the monks of St.
Augustine’s, Canterbury. It is a real help to understanding the
ways and works, the helps and the temptations, of the monks.”
=Bookman.=--“Much idle legend has been dissipated by Mr.
Taunton’s researches, many points left dark are now cleared up,
and in the perplexed quarrellings which ruined the prospects of
Catholicism at the close of the reign of Elizabeth, as under
James I. and Charles I., the historian holds a balance which
does not waver.”
* * * * *
Two Volumes, Extra Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with 120
Coloured Plates, price 15s. Net.
The Flora of the Alps.
Being a Description of all the Species of Flowering Plants
indigenous to Switzerland, and of the Alpine Species of the
adjacent mountain districts of France, Italy, and Austria,
including the Pyrenees. By ALFRED W. BENNETT, M.A., B.Sc.,
F.L.S., Lecturer on Botany at St. Thomas’s Hospital.
=Times.=--“Meets a want which has long been felt by English
travellers of a complete illustrated guide to all the flowers
which are indigenous to Switzerland.… The illustrations are
numerous and accurate.”
=Standard.=--“Mr. Bennett gives an adequate description, and
one which is both clear and exact, of all the species of
flowering plants common to Switzerland.”
=Spectator.=--“These two volumes will form comprehensive and
delightful companions to every traveller.”
=Daily News.=--“The letterpress is excellent, as, indeed, we
should have expected from so high an authority; the plates are
likely to be of great service to the traveller, and with their
aid he will be able to identify most of the flowers he may find
among the mountains.”
=Land and Water.=--“These very beautifully illustrated volumes
will be welcomed by the numberless people whose summer holiday
is spent in Switzerland or the Alpine districts.”
* * * * *
Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, with Portrait and Eighty-one
Engravings, price 5s.
The Complete Angler of Izaak Walton and Charles Cotton.
Edited by JOHN MAJOR.
=Scotsman.=--“There are all sorts of editions of the fisher’s
classic; but this will appeal most strongly to the man whose
affections attach themselves with an equal tenacity to a good
day’s fishing and a good book.”
=Bookman.=--“In Creswick’s engravings and all the other
pictures--‘embellishments’ they are called in the language of
the forties when Major brought out his edition--will lie the
chief interest and charm. They alone would make Major’s edition
one of the very best to possess.”
=Glasgow Herald.=--“As good an edition of the angler’s classic
as any one need wish to have.”
=Liverpool Post.=--“In these days of processed-blocks it is
indeed refreshing to come upon wood engravings such as the
tailpieces to the different chapters.”
* * * * *
_By the Author of “Handley Cross,” &c._
Demy 8vo, 520 Pages, Twelve Full-Page Illustrations by
WILDRAKE, HEATH, JELLICOE, Coloured by Hand, 10s. 6d. Net.
Hillingdon Hall; or, The Cockney Squire.
A Tale of Country Life. By R. S. SURTEES, Author of “Handley
Cross,” “Jorrocks’s Jaunts and Jollities,” &c.
=Saturday Review.=--“Mr. Jorrocks is one of those evergreens
whom age cannot wither nor modern culture stale. ‘Handley
Cross’ certainly used to be, and probably is still, the delight
of every well-constituted schoolboy; while the somewhat soberer
‘Hillingdon Hall’ should have considerable interest for country
folk at the present day, both as a picture of life in the early
days of Queen Victoria, and as containing several eloquent
dissertations by the hero and others on the effect of the
abolition of the Corn-laws upon the agricultural interest.”
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM STRANG, R.P.E.
One Volume, Small 4to, Cloth, Gilt Edges, price 10s. 6d. Net.
The Pilgrim’s Progress.
With Fourteen Plates, Designed and Etched by WILLIAM STRANG,
R.P.E. (Illustrator of Milton’s “Paradise Lost”).
=Times.=--“A sumptuous edition, illustrated by Mr. Strang with
great artistic power.”
* * * * *
_New Work on the Yiddish Dialect._
One Volume, Extra Crown 8vo, Cloth. Gilt Top, price 9s. Net.
The History of Yiddish Literature in the Nineteenth Century.
BY LEO WIENER
Instructor in the Slavic Languages at Harvard University.
* * * * *
_Works by the late John Addington Symonds._
Third Edition, in Two Volumes, Extra Crown 8vo, with Fifty
Illustrations, bound in Cloth, Gilt Top, price 12s. Net.
The Life of Michelangelo Buonarotti.
Based on Studies in the Archives of the Buonarotti Family at
Florence. With Portrait and Fifty Reproductions of the Works of
the Master.
=Times.=--“It is not, perhaps, too much to say, that this
biography supersedes, for many purposes, any work in the
English language.”
* * * * *
Fifth Edition, One Volume, Large Crown 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top,
with Mezzotint Portrait and Sixteen Illustrations of Cellini’s
works, price 7s. 6d.
The Life of Benvenuto Cellini.
Translated by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.
=Athenæum.=--“Among the best translations in the English
language.”
=Saturday Review.=--“None can surpass the Florentine goldsmith
and sculptor in the dramatic vigour of his narrative, and in
the unblushing faithfulness of his confessions.… Among the best
translations that have ever been made into English.”
* * * * *
Second Edition, One Volume, Demy 8vo, Illustrated, price 5s.
Net.
Walt Whitman. A Study.
By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. With Portrait and Four Illustrations.
=National Observer.=--“There is no better interpreter than Mr.
Symonds is, no better guide to learning than this book.”
* * * * *
New Copyright Edition published by arrangement with MACMILLAN
& CO., LTD. Fourteen Volumes, Demy 8vo, Illustrated with 112
Etchings and Photogravure Plates printed on Japan paper, the
text on a clear, soft, deckle-edge laid paper. Cloth elegant,
price £6, 6s. Net per Set.
French Memoirs by Lady Jackson.
THE WORKS OF CATHERINE CHARLOTTE, LADY JACKSON, “Old Paris: Its
Court and Literary Salons,” 2 vols. “The Old Regime: Court,
Salons, and Theatres,” 2 vols. “The Court of France in the
Sixteenth Century, 1514-1559,” 2 vols. “The Last of the Valois,
and Accession of Henry of Navarre, 1559-1589,” 2 vols. “The
First of the Bourbons, 1589-1595,” 2 vols. “The French Court
and Society: Reign of Louis XVI. and First Empire,” 2 vols.
“The Court of the Tuileries, from the Restoration to the Flight
of Louis Philippe,” 2 vols.
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