A REFORMER IN PRISON.
(AUGUST 1532 TO MAY 1533.)
[Sidenote: Fryth’s Noble Character.]
One of the leading scholars of England was about to seal the testimony
of his faith with blood. John Fryth had been one of the most brilliant
stars of the university of Cambridge. ‘It would hardly be possible to
find his equal in learning,’ said many. Accordingly Wolsey had invited
him to his college at Oxford, and Henry VIII. had desired to place him
among the number of his theologians. But the mysteries of the Word of
God had more attraction for Fryth than those of science: the wants of
conscience prevailed in him over those of the intellect, and neglecting
his own glory, he sought only to be useful to mankind.[288] A sincere,
decided, and yet moderate Christian, preaching the Gospel with great
purity and love, this man of thirty seemed destined to become one of the
most influential reformers of England. Nothing could have prevented his
playing the foremost part, if he had had Luther’s enthusiastic energy or
Calvin’s indomitable power. There were less strong, but perhaps more
amiable features in his character; he taught with gentleness those who
were opposed to the truth, and while many, as Foxe says,[289] ‘take the
bellows in hand to blow the fire, but few there are that will seek to
quench it,’ Fryth sought after peace. Controversies between protestants
distressed him. ‘The opinions for which men go to war,’ he said, ‘do not
deserve those great tragedies of which they make us spectators. Let
there be no longer any question among us of Zwinglians or Lutherans, for
neither Zwingle nor Luther died for us, and we must be one in Christ
Jesus.’[290] This servant of Christ, meek and lowly of heart, like his
Master, never disputed even with papists, unless obliged to do so.[291]
A true catholicism which embraced all Christians was Fryth’s distinctive
feature as a reformer. He was not one of those who imagine that a
national Church ought to think only of its own nation; but of those who
believe that if a Church is the depositary of the truth, she is so for
all the earth; and that a religion is not good, if it has no longing to
extend itself to all the races of mankind. There were some strongly
marked national elements in the English Reformation: the king and the
parliament; but there was also a universal element: a lively faith in
the Saviour of the world. No one in the sixteenth century represented
this truly catholic element better than Fryth. ‘I understand the Church
of God in a wide sense,’ he said. ‘It contains all those whom we regard
as members of Christ. It is a net thrown into the sea.’[292] This
principle, sown at that time as a seed in the English Reformation, was
one day to cover the world with missionaries.
Fryth, having declined the brilliant offers the king had made to him
through Cromwell and Vaughan, joined Tyndale in translating and
publishing the Holy Scriptures in English. While laboring thus for
England, an irresistible desire came over him to circulate the Gospel
there in person. He therefore quitted the Low Countries, returned to
London, and directed his course to Reading, where the prior had been his
friend. Exile had not used him well, and he entered that town miserably
clothed, and more like a beggar than one whom Henry VIII. had desired to
place near him. This was in August 1532.
His writings had preceded him. Having received, when in the Netherlands,
three works composed in defence of purgatory by three distinguished
men—Rastell, Sir Thomas More’s brother-in-law, More himself, and Fisher,
Bishop of Rochester—Fryth had replied to them: ‘A purgatory! there is
not _one_ only, there are _two_. The first is the _Word of God_, the
second is the _Cross of Christ_: I do not mean the cross of wood, but
the cross of tribulation. But the lives of the papists are so wicked
that they have invented a third.’[293]
Sir Thomas, exasperated by Fryth’s reply, said with that humorous tone
he often affected, ‘I propose to answer the good young father Fryth,
whose wisdom is such that three old men like my brother Rastell, the
Bishop of Rochester, and myself are mere babies when confronted with
Father Fryth alone.’[294] The exile having returned to England, More had
now the opportunity of avenging himself more effectually than by his
jokes.
[Sidenote: Fryth In The Stocks.]
Fryth, as we have said, had entered Reading. His strange air and his
look as of a foreigner arriving from a distant country attracted
attention, and he was taken up for a vagabond. ‘Who are you?’ asked the
magistrate. Fryth, suspecting that he was in the hands of enemies of the
Gospel, refused to give his name, which increased the suspicion, and the
poor young man was set in the stocks. As they gave him but little to
eat, with the intent of forcing him to tell his name, his hunger soon
became insupportable.[295] Knowing the name of the master of the
grammar-school, he asked to speak with him. Leonard Coxe had scarcely
entered the prison, when the pretended vagabond all in rags addressed
him in correct latinity, and began to deplore his miserable captivity.
Never had words more noble been uttered in a dungeon so vile. The
head-master, astonished at so much eloquence, compassionately drew near
the unhappy man and inquired how it came to pass that such a learned
scholar was in such profound wretchedness. Presently he sat down, and
the two men began to talk in Greek about the universities and languages.
Coxe could not make it out: it was no longer simple pity that he felt,
but love, which turned to admiration when he heard the prisoner recite
with the purest accent those noble lines of the _Iliad_ which were so
applicable to his own case:
‘Sing, O Muse,
The vengeance deep and deadly; whence to Greece
Unnumbered ills arose; which many a soul
Of mighty warriors to the viewless shades
Untimely sent.’[296]
Filled with respect, Coxe hurried off to the mayor, complained bitterly
of the wrong done to so remarkable a man, and obtained his liberation.
Homer saved the life of a reformer.
Fryth departed for London and hastened to join the worshippers who were
accustomed to meet in Bow Lane. He conversed with them and exclaimed:
‘Oh! what consolation to see such a great number of believers walking in
the way of the Lord!’[297] These Christians asked him to expound the
Scriptures to them, and, delighted with his exhortations, they exclaimed
in their turn: ‘If the rule of St. Paul were followed, this man would
certainly make a better bishop than many of those who wear the
mitre.’[298] Instead of the crosier he was to bear the cross.
[Sidenote: Fryth’s Eloquence.]
One of those who listened was in great doubt relative to the doctrine of
the Lord’s Supper; and one day, after Fryth had been setting Christ
before them as the food of the Christian soul through faith, this person
followed him and said: ‘Our prelates think differently; they believe
that the bread transformed by consecration becomes the flesh, blood, and
bones of Christ; that even the wicked eat this flesh with their teeth,
and that we must adore the host.... What you have just said refutes
their errors, but I fear that I cannot remember it. Pray commit it to
writing.’ Fryth, who did not like discussions, was alarmed at the
request, and answered; ‘I do not care to touch that terrible
tragedy;’[299] for so he called the dispute about the Eucharist. The man
having repeated his request, and promised that he would not communicate
the paper to anybody, Fryth wrote an explanation of the doctrine of the
Sacrament and gave it to that London Christian, saying: ‘We must eat and
drink the body and blood of Christ, not with the teeth, but with the
hearing and through faith.’ The brother took the treatise, and, hurrying
home with it, read it carefully.
In a short time every one at the Bow Lane meeting spoke about this
writing. One man, a false brother, named William Holt, listened
attentively to what was said, and thought he had found an opportunity of
destroying Fryth. Assuming a hypocritical look, he spoke in a pious
strain to the individual who had the manuscript, as if he had desired to
enlighten his faith, and finally asked him for it. Having obtained it,
he hastened to make a copy, which he carried to Sir Thomas More, who was
still chancellor.
Fryth soon perceived that he had tried in vain to remain unknown; he
called with so much power those who thirsted for righteousness to come
to Christ for the waters of life, that friends and enemies were struck
with his eloquence. Observing that his name began to be talked of in
various places, he quitted the capital and travelled unnoticed through
several counties, where he found some little Christian congregations
whom he tried to strengthen in the faith.
Tyndale, who remained on the continent, having heard of Fryth’s labors,
began to feel great anxiety about him. He knew but too well the cruel
disposition of the bishops and of More. ‘I will make the serpent come
out of his dark den,’ Sir Thomas had said, speaking of Tyndale, ‘as
Hercules forced Cerberus, the watch-dog of hell, to come out to the
light of day.... I will not leave Tyndale the darkest corner in which to
hide his head.’[300] In Tyndale’s eyes Fryth was the great hope of the
Church in England; he trembled lest the redoubtable Hercules should
seize him. ‘Dearly beloved brother Jacob,’ he wrote,—calling him Jacob
to mislead his enemies,—‘be cold, sober, wise, and circumspect, and keep
you low by the ground, avoiding high questions that pass the common
capacity. But expound the law truly, and open the veil of Moses to
condemn all flesh and prove all men sinners. Then set abroach the mercy
of our Lord Jesus, and let the wounded consciences drink of him.... All
doctrine that casteth a mist on these two to shadow and hide them,
resist with all your power.... Beloved in my heart, there liveth not one
in whom I have so great hope and trust, and in whom my heart rejoiceth,
not so much for your learning and what other gifts else you may have, as
because you walk in those things that the conscience may feel, and not
in the imagination of the brain. Cleave fast to the rock of the help of
God; and if aught be required of you contrary to the glory of God and
his Christ, then stand fast and commit yourself to God. He is our God,
and our redemption is nigh.’[301]
Tyndale’s fears were but too well founded. Sir Thomas More held Fryth’s
new treatise in his hand: he read it and, gave way by turns to anger and
sarcasm. ‘Whetting his wits, calling his spirits together, and
sharpening his pen,’ to use the words of the chronicler,[302] he
answered Fryth, and described his doctrine under the image of a cancer.
This did not satisfy him. Although he had returned the seals to the king
in May, he continued to hold office until the end of the year. He
ordered search to be made for Fryth, and set all his bloodhounds on the
track. If the reformer was discovered he was lost; when Sir Thomas More
had once caught his man, nothing could save him—nothing but a merry
jest, perhaps. For instance, one day when he was examining a gospeller
named Silver: ‘You know,’ he said, with a smile, ‘that silver must be
tried in the fire.’ ‘Yes,’ retorted the accused instantly, ‘but not
quicksilver.’[303] More delighted with the repartee, set the poor wretch
at liberty. But Fryth was no jester: he could not hope, therefore, to
find favor with the ex-chancellor of England.
[Sidenote: Fryth Hunted By More.]
Sir Thomas hunted the reformer by sea and by land, promising a great
reward to any one who should deliver him up. There was no county or town
or village where More did not look for him, no sheriff or justice of the
peace to whom he did not apply, no harbor where he did not post some
officer to catch him.[304] But the answer from every quarter was: ‘He is
not here.’ Indeed, Fryth, having been informed of the great exertions of
his enemy, was fleeing from place to place, often changing his dress,
and finding safety nowhere. Determining to leave England and return to
Tyndale, he went to Milton Shone in Essex with the intention of
embarking. A ship was ready to sail, and quitting his hiding-place he
went down to the shore with all precaution. He had been betrayed. More’s
agents, who were on the watch, seized him as he was stepping on board,
and carried him to the Tower. This occurred in October 1532.
Sir Thomas More was uneasy and soured. He beheld a new power lifting its
head in England and all Christendom, and he felt that in despite of his
wit and his influence he was unable to check it. That man so amiable,
that writer of a style so pure and elegant, did not so much dread the
anger of the king; what exasperated him was to see the Scriptures
circulating more widely every day, and a continually increasing number
of his fellow-citizens converted to the evangelical faith. These new
men, who seemed to have more piety than himself—he an old follower of
the old papacy!—irritated him sorely. He claimed to have alone—he and
his friends—the privilege of being Christians. The zeal of the partisans
of the Reformation, the sacrifice they made of their repose, their
money, and their lives, confounded him. ‘These diabolical people,’ he
said, ‘print their books at great expense, notwithstanding the great
danger; not looking for any gain, they give them away to everybody, and
even scatter them abroad by night.[305] They fear no labor, no journey,
no expense, no pain, no danger, no blows, no injury. They take a
malicious pleasure in seeking the destruction of others, and these
disciples of the devil think only how they may cast the souls of the
simple into hell-fire.’ In such a strain as this did the elegant utopist
give vent to his anger—the man who had dreamt all his life of the plan
of an imaginary world for the perfect happiness of every one. At last he
had caught the chief of these disciples of Satan, and hoped to put him
to death by fire.
[Sidenote: Fryth’s Labors In Prison.]
The news soon spread through London that Fryth was in the tower, and
several priests and bishops immediately went thither to try to bring him
back to the pope. Their great argument was that More had confuted his
treatise on the Lord’s Supper. Fryth asked to see the confutation, but
it was refused him. One day the Bishop of Winchester having called up
the prisoner, showed it to Fryth, and, holding it up, asserted that the
book quite shut his mouth: Fryth put out his hand, but the bishop
hastily withdrew the volume. More himself was ashamed of the apology and
did all he could to prevent its circulation. Fryth could only obtain a
written copy, but he resolved to answer it immediately. There was no one
with whom he could confer, not a book he could consult, and the chains
with which he was loaded scarcely allowed him to sit and write.[306] But
reading in his dungeon by the light of a small candle the insults of
More, and finding himself charged with having collected all the poison
that could be found in the writings of Wickliffe, Luther, Œcolampadius,
Tyndale, and Zwingle, this humble servant of God exclaimed: ‘No! Luther
and his doctrine are not the mark I aim at, but the Scriptures of
God.’[307] ‘He shall pay for his heresy with the best blood in his
body,’ said his enemies; and the pious disciple replied: ‘As the sheep
bound by the hand of the butcher with timid look beseeches that his
blood may soon be shed, even so do I pray my judges that my blood may be
shed _to-morrow_, if by my death the king’s eyes should be opened.’[308]
Before he died, Fryth desired to save, if it were God’s will, one of his
adversaries. There was one of them who had no obstinacy, no malice: it
was Rastell, More’s brother-in-law. Being unable to speak to him or to
any of the enemies of the Reformation, he formed the design of writing
in prison a treatise which should be called the _Bulwark_. But strict
orders had recently arrived that he should have neither pen, ink, nor
paper.[309] Some evangelical Christians of London, who succeeded in
getting access to him, secretly furnished him with the means of writing,
and Fryth began. He wrote ... but at every moment he listened for fear
the lieutenant of the Tower or the warders should come upon him suddenly
and find the pen in his hand.[310] Often a bright thought would occur to
him, but some sudden alarm drove it out of his mind, and he could not
recall it.[311] He took courage, however: he had been accused of
asserting that good works were of no service: he proceeded to explain
with much eloquence all their utility, and every time he repeated: ‘Is
that nothing? is that still nothing? Truly, Rastell,’ he added, ‘if you
only regard that as useful which justifies us, the sun is not useful,
because it justifieth not.’[312]
As he was finishing these words he heard the keys rattling at the door,
and, being alarmed, immediately threw paper, ink, and pen into a
hiding-place. However, he was able to complete the treatise and send it
to Rastell. More’s brother-in-law read it; his heart was touched, his
understanding enlightened, his prejudices cleared away; and from that
hour this choice spirit was gained over to the Gospel of Christ. God had
given him new eyes and new ears. A pure joy filled the prisoner’s heart.
‘Rastell now looks upon his natural reason as foolishness,’ he said.
‘Rastell, become a child, drinks the wisdom that cometh from on
high.’[313]
The conversion of Sir Thomas More’s brother-in-law made a great
sensation, and the visits to Fryth’s cell became every day more
numerous. Although separated from his wife and from Tyndale, whom he had
been forced to leave in the Low Countries, he had never had so many
friends, brothers, mothers, and fathers; he wept for very joy. He took
his pen and paper from their hiding-place, and, always indefatigable,
began to write first the _Looking-glass of Self-knowledge_, and next a
_Letter to the faithful Followers of the Gospel of Christ_. ‘Imitators
of the Lord,’ he said to them, ‘mark yourselves with the sign of the
cross, not as the superstitious crowd does, in order to worship it, but
as a testimony that you are ready to bear that cross as soon as God
shall please to send it. Fear not when you have it, for you will also
have a hundred fathers instead of one, a hundred mothers instead of one,
a hundred mansions already in this life (for I have made the trial), and
after this life, joy everlasting.’[314]
[Sidenote: Fryth Visits Petit.]
At the beginning of 1533, Anne Boleyn having been married to the King of
England, Fryth saw his chains fall off: he was allowed to have all he
asked for, and even permitted to leave the Tower at night on parole. He
took advantage of this liberty to visit the friends of the Gospel, and
consult with them about what was to be done. One evening in particular,
after leaving the Tower, Fryth went to Petit’s house, anxious to embrace
once more that great friend of the Reformation, that firm member of
parliament, who had been thrown into prison as we have seen, and at last
set free. Petit, weakened by his long confinement, was near his end; the
persecution agitated and pained him, and it would appear that his
emotion sometimes ended in delirium. As he was groaning over the
captivity of the young and noble reformer, Fryth appeared. Petit was
confused, his mind wandered. Is it Fryth or his ghost? He was like the
apostles, when Rhoda came to tell them that Peter was at the gate
waiting to see them. But gradually recovering himself, Petit said: ‘You
here! how have you escaped the vigilance of the warders?’ ‘God himself,’
answered Fryth, ‘gave me this liberty by touching their hearts.’[315]
The two friends then conversed about the true Reformation of England,
which in their eyes had nothing to do with the diplomatic proceedings of
the king. In their opinion it was not a matter of overloading the
external Church with new frippery, but ‘to increase that elect,
sanctified, and invisible congregation, elect before the foundation of
the world.’[316] Fryth did not conceal from Petit the conviction he felt
that he would be called upon to die for the Gospel. The night was spent
in such Christian conversation and the day began to dawn before the
prisoner hastened to return to the Tower.
The evangelist’s friends did not think as he did. Anne Boleyn’s
accession seemed as if it ought to open the doors of Fryth’s prison, and
in imagination they saw him at liberty, and laboring either on the
continent or at home at that real reformation which is accomplished by
the Scriptures of God.
But it was not to be so. Most of the evangelical men raised up by God in
England during the reign of Henry VIII. found—not the influence which
they should have exercised, but—death. Yet their blood has weighed in
the divine balance; it has sanctified the Reformation of England, and
been a spiritual seed for future ages. If the Church of that rich
country, which possesses such worldly splendor, has nevertheless
witnessed the development of a powerful evangelical life in its bosom,
it must not forget the cause, but understand, with Tertullian, that _the
blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church_.
Footnote 288:
‘Serving for the common utility.’—Tyndale to Fryth, _Works_, iii. p.
74.
Footnote 289:
Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 10.
Footnote 290:
Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 421.
Footnote 291:
‘He would never seem to strive against the papists.’—Foxe, _Acts_, v.
p. 9.
Footnote 292:
Fryth, _A Declaration of Baptism_, p. 287.
Footnote 293:
See Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 91. Preface to the Reader.
Footnote 294:
Anderson, _Annals of the Bible_, i. p. 338.
Footnote 295:
Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 5.
Footnote 296:
Earl of Derby’s Translation.
Footnote 297:
He added: ‘Now have I experience of the faith which is in
you.’—Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 257.
Footnote 298:
Ibid. p. 324.
Footnote 299:
Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 321.
Footnote 300:
_Confutation of Tyndale’s Answer_, by Sir Thomas More, lord-chancellor
of England (1532).
Footnote 301:
Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 133.
Footnote 302:
Ibid. p. 9.
Footnote 303:
Strype. i. p. 316.
Footnote 304:
Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 6.
Footnote 305:
Preface to More’s Confutation, _Bible Ann._ i. p. 343.
Footnote 306:
‘He was so loaded with iron that he could scarce sit with any
ease.’—Burnet, i. p. 161.
Footnote 307:
Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 342.
Footnote 308:
Ibid. p. 338.
Footnote 309:
The Subsidy or Bulwark; Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 242.
Footnote 310:
‘I am in continual fear, lest the lieutenant or my keeper should espy
any such thing by me.’—Ibid.
Footnote 311:
‘If any notable thing had been in my mind, it was clean lost.’—Ibid.
Footnote 312:
The Subsidy or Bulwark; Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 241.
Footnote 313:
The Subsidy or Bulwark; Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 211.
Footnote 314:
Ibid. p. 259.
Footnote 315:
Strype.
Footnote 316:
Tyndale and Fryth; _Works_, iii. p. 288.