Christians had been formed at Cambridge, of which Bilney was the
centre. He now knew no other canon law than Scripture, and had found a
new master, "the Holy Spirit of Christ," says an historian. Although
he was naturally timid, and often suffered from the exhaustion brought
on by his fasts and vigils, there was in his language a life, liberty,
and strength, strikingly in contrast with his sickly appearance. He
desired to draw to the knowledge of God,[468] all who came nigh him;
and by degrees, the rays of the Gospel sun, which was then rising in
the firmament of Christendom, pierced the ancient windows of the
colleges, and illuminated the solitary chambers of certain of the
masters and fellows. Master Arthur, Master Thistle of Pembroke Hall,
and Master Stafford, were among the first to join Bilney. George
Stafford, professor of divinity, was a man of deep learning and holy
life, clear and precise in his teaching. He was admired by every one
in Cambridge, so that his conversion, like that of his friends, spread
alarm among the partisans of the schoolmen. But a conversion still
more striking than this was destined to give the English Reformation
a champion more illustrious than either Stafford or Bilney.
[468] So was in his heart an incredible desire to allure many. Foxe,
Acts, iv, p. 620.
[Sidenote: A LEICESTERSHIRE FARMER.]
There was in Cambridge, at that time, a priest notorious for his
ardent fanaticism. In the processions, amidst the pomp, prayers, and
chanting of the train, none could fail to notice a master-of-arts,
about thirty years of age, who, with erect head, carried proudly the
university cross. Hugh Latimer, for such was his name, combined a
biting humour with an impetuous disposition and indefatigable zeal,
and was very quick in ridiculing the faults of his adversaries. There
was more wit and raillery in his fanaticism than can often be found in
such characters. He followed the friends of the word of God into the
colleges and houses where they used to meet, debated with them, and
pressed them to abandon their faith. He was a second Saul, and was
soon to resemble the apostle of the Gentiles in another respect.
He first saw light in the year 1491, in the county of Leicester.
Hugh's father was an honest yeoman; and accompanied by one of his six
sisters, the little boy had often tended in the pastures the five
score sheep belonging to the farm, or driven home to his mother the
thirty cows it was her business to milk.[469] In 1497, the Cornish
rebels, under Lord Audley, having encamped at Blackheath, our farmer
had donned his rusty armour, and mounting his horse, responded to the
summons of the crown. Hugh, then only six years old, was present at
his departure, and as if he had wished to take his little part in the
battle, he had buckled the straps of his father's armour.[470]
Fifty-two years afterwards he recalled this circumstance to mind in a
sermon preached before king Edward. His father's house was always open
to the neighbours; and no poor man ever turned away from the door
without having received alms. The old man brought up his family in the
love of men and in the fear of God, and having remarked with joy the
precocious understanding of his son, he had him educated in the
country schools, and then sent to Cambridge at the age of fourteen.
This was in 1505, just as Luther was entering the Augustine convent.
[469] My mother milked thirty kine. Latimer's Sermons, (Parker ed.) p.
101.
[470] I can remember that I buckled his harness. Ibid.
[Sidenote: AN OBSTINATE PAPIST.]
The son of the Leicestershire yeoman was lively, fond of pleasure, and
of cheerful conversation, and mingled frequently in the amusements of
his fellow-students. One day, as they were dining together, one of the
party exclaimed: _Nil melius quam lætari et facere bene_!--"There is
nothing better than to be merry and to do well."[471]--"A vengeance
on that _bene_!" replied a monk of impudent mien; "I wish it were
beyond the sea;[472] it mars all the rest." Young Latimer was much
surprised at the remark: "I understand it now," said he; "that will be
a heavy _bene_ to these monks when they have to render God an account
of their lives."
[471] Eccles. iii. 12.
[472] I would that _bene_ had been banished beyond the sea. Latimer's
Sermons, p. 153.
Latimer having become more serious, threw himself heart and soul into
the practices of superstition, and a very bigoted old cousin undertook
to instruct him in them. One day, when one of their relations lay
dead, she said to him: "Now we must drive out the devil. Take this
holy taper, my child, and pass it over the body, first longways and
then athwart, so as always to make the sign of the cross."
But the scholar performing this exorcism very awkwardly, his aged
cousin snatched the candle from his hand, exclaiming angrily: "It's a
great pity your father spends so much money on your studies: he will
never make anything of you."[473]
[473] Ibid. p. 499.
This prophecy was not fulfilled. He became Fellow of Clare Hall in
1509, and took his master's degree in 1514. His classical studies
being ended, he began to study divinity. Duns Scotus, Aquinas, and
Hugo de Sancto Victore were his favourite authors. The practical side
of things, however, engaged him more than the speculative; and he was
more distinguished in Cambridge for his asceticism and enthusiasm than
for his learning, He attached importance to the merest trifles. As the
missal directs that water should be mingled with the sacramental wine,
often while saying mass he would be troubled in his conscience for
fear he had not put _sufficient water_.[474] This remorse never left
him a moment's tranquillity during the service. In him, as in many
others, attachment to puerile ordinances occupied in his heart the
place of faith in the great truths. With him, the cause of the church
was the cause of God, and he respected Thomas à Becket at least as
much as St. Paul. "I was then," said he, "as obstinate a papist as any
in England."[475] Luther said the same thing of himself.
[474] He thought he had never sufficiently mingled his massing wine
with water. Foxe, Acts, viii, p. 433.
[475] Ibid. p. 334.
[Sidenote: STAFFORD AND THE SOPHISTS.]
The fervent Latimer soon observed that everybody around him was not
equally zealous with himself for the ceremonies of the church. He
watched with surprise certain young members of the university who,
forsaking the doctors of the School, met daily to read and search into
the Holy Scriptures. People sneered at them in Cambridge: "It is only
the _sophists_," was the cry; but raillery was not enough for
Latimer. One day he entered the room where these _sophists_ were
assembled, and begged them to cease studying the Bible. All his
entreaties were useless. Can we be astonished at it? said Latimer to
himself. Don't we see even the tutors setting an example to these
stray sheep? There is Master Stafford, the most illustrious professor
in English universities, devoting his time _ad Biblia_, like Luther at
Wittemberg, and explaining the Scriptures according to the Hebrew and
Greek texts! and the delighted students celebrate in bad verse the
doctor,
_Qui Paulum explicuit rite et evangelium._[476]
[476] Who has explained to us the true sense of St. Paul and of the
Gospel. Strype's Mem. i, p. 74.
That young people should occupy themselves with these new doctrines
was conceivable, but that a doctor of divinity should do so--what a
disgrace! Latimer therefore determined to attack Stafford. He insulted
him[477]; he entreated the youth of Cambridge to abandon the professor
and his heretical teaching; he attended the hall in which the doctor
taught, made signs of impatience during the lesson, and cavilled at it
after leaving the school. He even preached in public against the
learned doctor. But it seemed to him that Cambridge and England were
struck blind: true, the clergy approved of Latimer's proceedings--nay,
praised them; and yet they did nothing. To console him, however, he
was named cross-bearer to the university, and we have already seen him
discharging this duty.
[477] Most spitefully railing against him. Foxe, Acts, viii, p. 437.
Latimer desired to show himself worthy of such an honour. He had left
the students to attack Stafford; and he now left Stafford for a more
illustrious adversary. But this attack led him to some one _that was
stronger than he_. At the occasion of receiving the degree of bachelor
of divinity he had to deliver a Latin discourse in the presence of the
university; Latimer chose for his subject _Philip Melancthon and his
doctrines_. Had not this daring heretic presumed to say quite recently
that the fathers of the church have altered the sense of Scripture?
Had he not asserted that, like those rocks whose various colours are
imparted to the polypus which clings to them,[478] so the doctors of
the church give each their own opinion in the passages they explain?
And finally had he not discovered a new _touch-stone_ (it is thus he
styles the Holy Scripture) by which we must test the sentences even of
St. Thomas?
[478] Ut polypus cuicunque petræ adhæserit, ejus colorem imitatur.
(Corp. Ref. i, p. 114.) As the polypus resembles in colour the rock to
which it clings.
[Sidenote: LATIMER HEARS BILNEY'S CONFESSION.]
Latimer's discourse made a great impression. At last (said his
hearers) England, nay Cambridge, will furnish a champion for the
church that will confront the Wittemberg doctors, and save the vessel
of our Lord. But very different was to be the result. There was among
the hearers one man almost hidden through his small stature: it was
Bilney. For some time he had been watching Latimer's movements, and
his zeal interested him, though it was a zeal without knowledge. His
energy was not great, but he possessed a delicate tact, a skilful
discernment of character which enabled him to distinguish error, and
to select the fittest method for combating it. Accordingly, a
chronicler styles him "a trier of Satan's subtleties, appointed by God
to detect the bad money that the enemy was circulating throughout the
church."[479] Bilney easily detected Latimer's sophisms, but at the
same time loved his person, and conceived the design of winning him to
the Gospel. But how to manage it? The prejudiced Latimer would not
even listen to the evangelical Bilney. The latter reflected, prayed,
and at last planned a very candid and very strange plot, which led to
one of the most astonishing conversions recorded in history.
[479] Foxe, Acts, vii, p. 438.
[Sidenote: THE CONFESSOR CONVERTED.]
He went to the college where Latimer resided. "For the love of God,"
he said to him, "be pleased to hear my confession."[480] The _heretic_
prayed to make confession to the _catholic_: what a singular fact! My
discourse against Melancthon has no doubt converted him, said Latimer
to himself. Had not Bilney once been among the number of the most
pious zealots? His pale face, his wasted frame, and his humble look
are clear signs that he ought to belong to the ascetics of
catholicism. If he turns back, all will turn back with him, and the
reaction will be complete at Cambridge. The ardent Latimer eagerly
yielded to Bilney's request, and the latter, kneeling before the
cross-bearer, related to him with touching simplicity the anguish he
had once felt in his soul, the efforts he had made to remove it; their
unprofitableness so long as he determined to follow the precepts of
the church, and lastly, the peace he had felt when he believed that
Jesus Christ is _the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the
world_. He described to Latimer the spirit of adoption he had
received, and the happiness he experienced in being able now to call
God his father.... Latimer, who expected to receive a confession,
listened without mistrust. His heart was opened, and the voice of the
pious Bilney penetrated it without obstacle. From time to time the
confessor would have chased away the new thoughts which came crowding
into his bosom; but the penitent continued. His language, at once so
simple and so lively, entered like a two-edged sword. Bilney was not
without assistance in his work. A new, a strange witness,--the Holy
Ghost,[481]--was speaking in Latimer's soul. He learned from God to
know God: he received a new heart. At length grace prevailed: the
penitent rose up, but Latimer remained seated, absorbed in thought.
The strong cross-bearer contended in vain against the words of the
feeble Bilney. Like Saul on the way to Damascus, he was conquered, and
his conversion, like the apostle's, was instantaneous. He stammered
out a few words; Bilney drew near him with love, and God scattered the
darkness which still obscured his mind. He saw Jesus Christ as the
only Saviour given to man: he contemplated and adored him. "I learnt
more by this confession," he said afterwards, "than by much reading
and in many years before[482].... I now tasted the word of God,[483]
and forsook the doctors of the school and all their fooleries."[484]
It was not the penitent but the confessor who received absolution.
Latimer viewed with horror the obstinate war he had waged against God;
he wept bitterly; but Bilney consoled him. "Brother," said he, "though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow." These two young
men, then locked in their solitary chamber at Cambridge, were one day
to mount the scaffold for that divine Master whose spirit was teaching
them. But one of them before going to the stake was first to sit on an
episcopal throne.
[480] He came to me afterwards in my study, and desired me for God's
sake to hear his confession. Latimer's Sermons, p. 334.
[481] He was through the good Spirit of God so touched. Foxe, viii, p.
438.
[482] Latimer's Sermons, p. 334.
[483] From that time forward I began to smell the word of God. Ibid.
[484] Ibid. p. 335.
Latimer was changed. The energy of his character was tempered by a
divine unction. Becoming a believer, he had ceased to be
superstitious. Instead of persecuting Jesus Christ, he became a
zealous seeker after him.[485] Instead of cavilling and railing, he
showed himself meek and gentle;[486] instead of frequenting company,
he sought solitude, studying the Scriptures and advancing in true
theology. He threw off the old man and put on the new. He waited upon
Stafford, begged forgiveness for the insult he had offered him, and
then regularly attended his lectures, being subjugated more by this
doctor's angelic conversation[487] than by his learning. But it was
Bilney's society Latimer cultivated most. They conversed together
daily, took frequent walks together into the country, and occasionally
rested at a place, long known as "the heretic's hill."[488]
[485] Whereas before he was an enemy and almost a persecutor of
Christ, he was now a zealous seeker after him. Foxe, Acts, vii, p.
338.
[486] Ibid.
[487] A man of a very perfect life and angelic conversation. Becon's
Works (Parker Soc.) p. 425.
[488] Foxe, viii, p. 452.
[Sidenote: BILNEY PREACHES GRACE.]
So striking a conversion gave fresh vigour to the evangelical
movement. Hitherto Bilney and Latimer had been the most zealous
champions of the two opposite causes; the one despised, the other
honoured; the weak man had conquered the strong. This action of the
Spirit of God was not thrown away upon Cambridge. Latimer's
conversion, as of old the miracles of the apostles, struck men's
minds; and was it not in truth a miracle? All the youth of the
university ran to hear Bilney preach. He proclaimed "Jesus Christ as
He who, having tasted death, has delivered his people from the penalty
of sin."[489] While the doctors of the school (even the most pious of
them) laid most stress upon _man's_ part in the work of redemption,
Bilney on the contrary emphasized the other term, namely, _God's_
part. This doctrine of grace, said his adversaries, annuls the
sacraments, and contradicts baptismal regeneration. The selfishness
which forms the essence of fallen humanity rejected the evangelical
doctrine, and felt that to accept it was to be lost. "Many listened
with _the left ear_," to use an expression of Bilney's; "like Malchus,
having their _right_ ear cut off;" and they filled the university with
their complaints.
[489] Christus quem pro virili doceo.....denique et satisfactionem.
Ep. ad Tonstallum episcop. Foxe, Acts, iv, p. 633.
But Bilney did not allow himself to be stopped. The idea of eternity
had seized on his mind, and perhaps he still retained some feeble
relic of the exaggeration of asceticism. He condemned every kind of
recreation, even when innocent. Music in the churches seemed to him a
mockery of God;[490] and when Thurlby, who was afterwards a bishop,
and who lived at Cambridge in the room below his, used to begin
playing on the recorder, Bilney would fall on his knees and pour out
his soul in prayer: to him prayer was the sweetest melody. He prayed
that the lively faith of the children of God might in all England be
substituted for the vanity and pride of the priests. He believed--he
prayed--he waited. His waiting was not to be in vain.
[490] Ibid. p. 621.
[Sidenote: NATURE OF THE MINISTRY.]
Latimer trod in his footsteps: the transformation of his soul was
going on; and the more fanaticism he had shown for the sacerdotal
system, which places salvation in the hands of the priest, the more
zeal he now showed for the evangelical system, which placed it in the
hands of Christ. He saw that if the churches must needs have
ministers, it is not because they require a human mediation, but from
the necessity of a regular preaching of the Gospel and a steady
direction of the flock; and accordingly he would have wished to call
the servant of the Lord _minister_ (ὑπηρέτης or διάκονος τοῦ λόγου),
and not _priest_,[491] (ἱερεύς or _sacerdos_.) In his view, it was
not the imposition of hands by the bishop that gave grace, but grace
which authorized the imposition of hands. He considered activity to
be one of the essential features of the Gospel ministry. "Would
you know," said he, "why the Lord chose _fishermen_ to be his
apostles?... See how they watch day and night at their nets to take
all such fishes that they can get and come in their way.... So all
our bishops, and curates, and vicars should be as painful in casting
their nets, that is to say, in preaching God's word."[492] He regarded
all confidence in human strength as a remnant of paganism. "Let us
not do," he said, "as the haughty Ajax, who said to his father as he
went to battle: Without the help of God I am able to fight, and I will
get the victory with mine own strength."[493]
[491] Minister is a more fit name for that office. Latimer's remains,
p. 264.
[492] Ibid. p. 24.
[493] Latimer's Sermons, p. 491. Sophocles, Ajax, 783, et seq.
The Reformation had gained in Latimer a very different man from
Bilney. He had not so much discernment and prudence perhaps, but he
had more energy and eloquence. What Tyndale was to be for England by
his writings, Latimer was to be by his discourses. The tenderness of
his conscience, the warmth of his zeal, and the vivacity of his
understanding, were enlisted in the service of Jesus Christ; and if at
times he was carried too far by the liveliness of his wit, it only
shows that the reformers were not _saints_, but sanctified men. "He
was one of the first," says an historian, "who, in the days of king
Henry VIII, set himself to preach the Gospel in the truth and
simplicity of it."[494] He preached in Latin _ad clerum_, and in
English _ad populum_. He boldly placed the law with its curses before
his hearers, and then conjured them to flee towards the Saviour of the
world.[495] The same zeal which he had employed in saying mass, he now
employed in preaching the true sacrifice of Christ. He said one
day:--"If one man had committed all the sins since Adam, you may be
sure he should be punished with the same horror of death, in such a
sort as all men in the world should have suffered.... Such was the
pain Christ endured.... If our Saviour had committed all the sins of
the world; all that I for my part have done, all that you for your
part have done, and all that any man else hath done; if he had done
all this himself, his agony that he suffered should have been no
greater nor grievouser than it was.... Believe in Jesus Christ, and
you shall overcome death.... But, alas!" said he at another time, "the
devil, by the help of that Italian bishop, his chaplain, has laboured
by all means that he might frustrate the death of Christ and the
merits of his passion."[496]
[494] Strype's Mem. iii, part i, p. 378.
[495] Flying to him by an evangelical faith. Ibid.
[496] Lat. Ser. p. 74.
[Sidenote: WORKS OF CHARITY.]
Thus began in British Christendom the preaching of the Cross. The
Reformation was not the substitution of the catholicism of the first
ages for the popery of the middle ages: it was a revival of the
preaching of St. Paul, and thus it was that on hearing Latimer every
one exclaimed with rapture: "Of a _Saul_, God has made him a very
_Paul_."[497]
[497] This was said by Ralph Morice, afterwards Cranmer's secretary.
Strype, Eccl. Mem. iii, part i, p. 368.
To the inward power of faith, the Cambridge evangelists added the
outward power of the life. Saul become Paul, the strong, the ardent
Latimer, had need of action; and Bilney, the weak and humble Bilney,
in delicate health, observing a severe diet, taking ordinarily but one
meal a-day, and never sleeping more than four hours, absorbed in
prayer and in the study of the word, displayed at that time all the
energy of charity. These two friends devoted themselves not merely to
the easy labours of Christian beneficence; but caring little for that
formal Christianity so often met with among the easy classes, they
explored the gloomy cells of the madhouse to bear the sweet and subtle
voice of the gospel to the infuriate maniacs. They visited the
miserable lazar-house without the town, in which several poor lepers
were dwelling; they carefully tended them, wrapped them in clean
sheets, and wooed them to be converted to Christ.[498] The gates of
the jail at Cambridge were opened to them,[499] and they announced to
the poor prisoners that word which giveth liberty. Some were converted
by it, and longed for the day of their execution.[500] Latimer,
afterwards bishop of Worcester, was one of the most beautiful types of
the Reformation in England.
[498] Preaching at the lazar cots, wrapping them in sheets. Foxe,
Acts, vol. iv, p. 620. Lond. 1846.
[499] Latimer's Sermons, p. 335. (Park. Soc.)
[500] She had such a savour, such a sweetness, and feeling, that she
thought it long to the day of execution. Ibid. p. 180.
[Sidenote: WORLDLINESS AND BRUTALITY.]
He was opposed by numerous adversaries. In the front rank were the
priests, who spared no endeavours to retain souls. "Beware," said
Latimer to the new converts, "lest robbers overtake you, and plunge
you into the pope's prison of purgatory."[501] After these came the
sons and favourites of the aristocracy, worldly and frivolous
students, who felt little disposition to listen to the gospel. "By
yeomen's sons the faith of Christ is and hath been chiefly maintained
in the church,"[502] said Latimer. "Is this realm taught by rich men's
sons? No, no; read the chronicles; ye shall find sometime noblemen's
sons which have been unpreaching bishops and prelates, but ye shall
find none of them learned men." He would have desired a mode of
election which placed in the Christian pulpit, not the richest and
most fashionable men, but the ablest and most pious. This important
reform was reserved for other days. Lastly, the evangelists of
Cambridge came into collision with the _brutality_ of many, to use
Latimer's own expression. "What need have we of universities and
schools?" said the students of this class. The Holy Ghost "will give
us always what to say."--"We must trust in the Holy Ghost," replied
Latimer, "but not presume on it. If you will not maintain
universities, you shall have a _brutality_."[503] In this manner the
Reformation restored to Cambridge gravity and knowledge, along with
truth and charity.
[501] Strype's Eccles. Memorials, vol. iii, pt. i, p. 378.
[502] Latimer's Sermons, p. 102.
[503] Ibid. p. 269.
[Sidenote: PERSECUTION SUSPENDED.]
Yet Bilney and Latimer often turned their eyes towards Oxford, and
wondered how the light would be able to penetrate there. Wolsey
provided for that. A Cambridge master of arts, John Clark, a
conscientious man, of tender heart, great prudence, and unbounded
devotion to his duty, had been enlightened by the word of God. Wolsey,
who since 1523 had been seeking every where for distinguished scholars
to adorn his new college, invited Clark among the first. This doctor,
desirous of bearing to Oxford the light which God had given Cambridge,
immediately began to deliver a course of divinity lectures, to hold
conferences, and to preach in his eloquent manner. He taught every
day.[504] Among the graduates and students who followed him was
Anthony Dalaber, a young man of simple but profound feeling, who while
listening to him had experienced in his heart the regenerating power
of the Gospel. Overflowing with the happiness which the knowledge of
Jesus Christ imparted to him, he went to the Cardinal's college,
knocked at Clark's door, and said: "Father, allow me never to quit you
more!" The teacher, beholding the young disciple's enthusiasm, loved
him, but thought it his duty to try him: "Anthony," said he, "you know
not what you ask. My teaching is now pleasant to you, but the time
will come when God will lay the cross of persecution on you; you will
be dragged before bishops; your name will be covered with shame in the
world, and all who love you will be heart-broken on account of you....
Then, my friend, you will regret that you ever knew me."
[504] Teach or preach, which he did daily. Foxe, Acts, v, p. 426.
Anthony believing himself rejected, and unable to bear the idea of
returning to the barren instructions of the priests, fell on his
knees, and weeping bitterly,[505] exclaimed: "For the tender mercy of
God, turn me not away." Touched by his sorrow, Clark folded him in his
arms, kissed him, and with tears in his eyes exclaimed: "The Lord give
thee what thou askest!... Take me for thy father, I take thee for my
son." From that hour Anthony, all joy, was like Timothy at the feet of
Paul. He united a quick understanding with tender affections. When any
of the students had not attended Clark's conferences, the master
commissioned his disciple to visit them, to inquire into their doubts,
and to impart to them his instructions. "This exercise did me much
good," said Dalaber, "and I made great progress in the knowledge of
Scripture."
[505] Foxe, Acts, v, p. 426.
Thus the kingdom of God, which consists not in forms, but in the power
of the Spirit, was set up in Cambridge and Oxford. The alarmed
schoolmen, beholding their most pious scholars escaping one after
another from their teaching, called the bishops to their aid, and the
latter determined to send agents to Cambridge, the focus of the
heresy, to apprehend the leaders. This took place in 1523 or the
beginning of 1524. The episcopal officers had arrived, and were
proceeding to business. The most timid began to feel alarm, but
Latimer was full of courage; when suddenly the agents of the clergy
were forbidden to go on, and this prohibition, strange to say,
originated with Wolsey; "upon what ground I cannot imagine," says
Burnet.[506] Certain events were taking place at Rome of a nature to
exercise great influence over the priestly councils, and which may
perhaps explain what Burnet could not understand.
[506] History of the Reformation, vol. i, p. 25. Lond. 1841.
CHAPTER X.
Wolsey seeks the Tiara--Clement VII is elected--Wolsey's
dissimulation--Charles offers France to Henry--Pace's
Mission on this Subject--Wolsey reforms the Convents--His
secret Alliances--Treaty between France and
England--Taxation and Insurrection--False Charges against
the Reformers--Latimer's Defence--Tenterden Steeple.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S AMBITION.]
Adrian VI died on the 14th September 1523, before the end of the
second year of his pontificate. Wolsey thought himself pope. At length
he would no longer be the favourite only, but the arbiter of the kings
of the earth; and his genius, for which England was too narrow, would
have Europe and the world for its stage. Already revolving gigantic
projects in his mind, the future pope dreamt of the destruction of
heresy in the west, and in the east the cessation of the Greek schism,
and new crusades to replant the cross on the walls of Constantinople.
There is nothing that Wolsey would not have dared undertake when once
seated on the throne of catholicism, and the pontificates of Gregory
VII and Innocent III would have been eclipsed by that of the Ipswich
butcher's son. The cardinal reminded Henry of his promise, and the
very next day the king signed a letter addressed to Charles the Fifth.
Believing himself sure of the emperor, Wolsey turned all his exertions
to the side of Rome. "The legate of England," said Henry's ambassadors
to the cardinals, "is the very man for the present time. He is the
only one thoroughly acquainted with the interests and wants of
Christendom, and strong enough to provide for them. He is all
kindness, and will share his dignities and wealth among all the
prelates who support him."
But Julio de' Medici himself aspired to the papacy, and as eighteen
cardinals were devoted to him, the election could not take place
without his support. "Rather than yield," said he in the conclave, "I
would die in this prison." A month passed away, and nothing was done.
New intrigues were then resorted to: there were cabals for Wolsey,
cabals for Medici. The cardinals were besieged:
Into their midst, by many a secret path,
Creeps sly intrigue.[507]
[507] Un conclave, by C. Delavigne.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S DISSIMULATION.]
At length, on the 19th November 1523, the people collected under their
windows, shouting: "No foreign pope." After forty-nine days debating,
Julio was elected, and according to his own expression, "bent his head
beneath the yoke of apostolic servitude."[508] He took the name of
Clement VII.
[508] Colla subjecimus jugo apostolicæ servitutis. (Rymer, Fœdera, vi,
2, p. 7.) We bent our neck under the yoke of apostolic servitude.
Wolsey was exasperated. It was in vain that he presented himself
before St. Peter's chair at each vacancy: a more active or more
fortunate rival always reached it before him. Master of England, and
the most influential of European diplomatists, he saw men preferred to
him who were his inferiors. This election was an event for the
Reformation. Wolsey as pope would, humanly speaking, have tightened
the cords which already bound England so closely to Rome; but Wolsey,
rejected, could hardly fail to throw himself into tortuous paths which
would perhaps contribute to the emancipation of the Church. He became
more crafty than ever; declared to Henry that the new election was
quite in conformity with his wishes,[509] and hastened to congratulate
the new pope. He wrote to his agents at Rome: "This election, I assure
you, is as much to the king's and my rejoicing, consolation, and
gladness, as possibly may be devised or imagined.... Ye shall show
unto his holiness what joy, comfort, and gladness it is both to the
king's highness and me to perceive that once in our lives it hath
pleased God of his great goodness to provide such a pastor unto his
church, as his grace and I have long inwardly desired; who for his
virtue, wisdom, and other high and notable qualities, we have always
reputed the most able and worthy person to be called to that
dignity."[510] But the pope, divining his competitor's vexation, sent
the king a golden rose, and a ring to Wolsey. "I am sorry," he said as
he drew it from his finger, "that I cannot present it to his eminence
in person." Clement moreover conferred on him the quality of legate
_for life_--an office which had hitherto been temporary only. Thus the
popedom and England embraced each other, and nothing appeared more
distant than that Christian revolution which was destined very shortly
to emancipate Britain from the tutelage of the Vatican.
[509] I take God to witness, I am more joyous thereof, than if it had
fortuned upon my person. Wolsey to Henry VIII. Burnet, Records, p.
cccxxviii. (Lond. 1841.)
[510] Wolsey to Secretary Pace. Galt's Wolsey, p. 381, Appendix.
(Lond. 1846.)
[Sidenote: PACE'S EMBASSY.]
Wolsey's disappointed ambition made him suspend the proceedings of the
clergy at Cambridge. He had revenge in his heart, and cared not to
persecute his fellow-countrymen merely to please his rival; and
besides, like several popes, he had a certain fondness for learning.
To send a few Lollards to prison was a matter of no difficulty; but
learned doctors ... this required a closer examination. Hence he gave
Rome a sign of independence. And yet it was not specially against the
pope that he began to entertain sinister designs: Clement had been
more fortunate than himself; but that was no reason why he should be
angry with him.... Charles V was the offender, and Wolsey swore a
deadly hatred against him. Resolved to strike, he sought only the
place where he could inflict the severest blow. To obtain his end, he
resolved to dissemble his passion, and to distil drop by drop into
Henry's mind that mortal hatred against Charles, which gave fresh
energy to his activity.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY REFORMS THE MONASTERIES.]
Charles discovered the indignation that lay hid under Wolsey's
apparent mildness, and wishing to retain Henry's alliance, he made
more pressing advances to the king. Having deprived the minister of a
tiara, he resolved to offer the king a crown: this was, indeed, a
noble compensation! "You are king of France," the emperor said, "and I
undertake to win your kingdom for you.[511] Only send an ambassador to
Italy to negotiate the matter." Wolsey, who could hardly contain his
vexation, was forced to comply, in appearance at least, with the
emperor's views. The king, indeed, seemed to think of nothing but his
arrival at St. Germain's, and commissioned Pace to visit Italy for
this important business. Wolsey hoped that he would be unable to
execute his commission; it was impossible to cross the Alps, for the
French troops blockaded every passage. But Pace, who was one of those
adventurous characters whom nothing can stop, spurred on by the
thought that the king himself had sent him, determined to cross the
_Col di Tenda_. On the 27th July, he entered the mountains, traversed
precipitous passes, sometimes climbing them on all-fours,[512] and
often falling during the descent. In some places he could ride on
horseback; "but in the most part thereof I durst not either turn my
horse traverse (he wrote to the king) for all the worldly riches, nor
in manner look on my left hand, for the pronite and deepness to the
valley." After this passage, which lasted six days, Pace arrived in
Italy worn out by fatigue. "If the king of England will enter France
immediately by way of Normandy," said the constable of Bourbon to
him, "I will give him leave to pluck out both my eyes[513] if he is
not master of Paris before All-Saints; and when Paris is taken, he
will be master of the whole kingdom." But Wolsey, to whom these
remarks were transmitted by the ambassador, slighted them, delayed
furnishing the subsidies, and required certain conditions which were
calculated to thwart the project. Pace, who was ardent and ever
imprudent, but plain and straightforward, forgot himself, and in a
moment of vexation wrote to Wolsey: "To speak frankly, if you do not
attend to these things, I shall impute to your grace the loss of the
crown of France." These words ruined Henry's envoy in the cardinal's
mind. Was this man, who owed every thing to him, trying to supplant
him?... Pace in vain assured Wolsey that he should not take seriously
what he had said, but the bolt had hit. Pace was associated with
Charles in the cruel enmity of the minister, and he was one day to
feel its terrible effects. It was not long before Wolsey was able to
satisfy himself that the service Charles had desired to render the
king of England was beyond the emperor's strength.
[511] Ellis' Letters. Second Series, p. 326, 327.
[512] It made us creep of all-four. Pace to the king, Strype, vol. i,
part ii, p. 27.
[513] Cotton MSS. Vitellius, B. 6. p. 87.
No sooner at ease on one side, than Wolsey found himself attacked on
another. This man, the most powerful among kings' favourites, felt at
this time the first breath of disfavour blow over him. On the
pontifical throne, he would no doubt have attempted a reform after the
manner of Sixtus V; and wishing to rehearse on a smaller stage, and
regenerate after his own fashion the catholic church in England, he
submitted the monasteries to a strict inquisition, patronized the
instruction of youth, and was the first to set a great example, by
suppressing certain religious houses whose revenues he applied to his
college in Oxford. Thomas Cromwell, his solicitor, displayed much
skill and industry in this business,[514] and thus, under the orders
of a cardinal of the Roman church, made his first campaign in a war of
which he was in later days to hold the chief command. Wolsey and
Cromwell, by their reforms, drew down the hatred of certain monks,
priests, and noblemen, always the very humble servants of the clerical
party. The latter accused the cardinal of not having estimated the
monasteries at their just value, and of having, in certain cases,
encroached on the royal jurisdiction. Henry, whom the loss of the
crown of France had put in a bad humour, resolved, for the first time,
not to spare his minister: "There are loud murmurs throughout this
kingdom," he said to him; "it is asserted that your new college at
Oxford is only a convenient cloak to hide your malversations."[515]
"God forbid," replied the cardinal, "that this virtuous foundation at
Oxford, undertaken for the good of my poor soul, should be raised _ex
rapinis_! But, above all, God forbid that I should ever encroach upon
your royal authority." He then cunningly insinuated, that by his will
he left all his property to the king. Henry was satisfied: he had a
share in the business.
[514] Very forward and industrious. Foxe, Acts. v. p. 366.
[515] Collier's Eccles. Hist. x, p. 20.
Events of very different importance drew the king's attention to
another quarter. The two armies, of the empire and of France, were in
presence before Pavia. Wolsey, who openly gave his right hand to
Charles V, and secretly his left to Francis, repeated to his master:
"If the emperor gains the victory, are you not his ally? and if
Francis, am I not in secret communication with him?"[516] "Thus,"
added the cardinal, "whatever happens, your Highness will have great
cause to give thanks to Almighty God."
[516] By such communications as he set forth with France apart. State
Papers, i, p. 158.
[Sidenote: ALLIANCE BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND.]
On the 24th of February 1525, the battle of Pavia was fought, and the
imperialists found in the French king's tent several of Wolsey's
letters, and in his military chest and in the pockets of his soldiers
the cardinal's corrupting gold. This alliance had been contrived by
Giovanni Gioacchino, a Genoese master of the household to Louisa,
regent of France, who passed for a merchant of Bologna, and lived in
concealment at Blackfriars. Charles now saw what he had to trust to;
but the news of the battle of Pavia had scarcely reached England,
when, faithful in perfidy, Wolsey gave utterance to a feigned
pleasure. The people rejoiced also, but they were in earnest. Bonfires
were lighted in the streets of London; the fountains ran wine, and the
lord-mayor, attended by the aldermen, passed through the city on
horseback to the sound of the trumpet.
The cardinal's joy was not altogether false. He would have been
pleased at his enemy's defeat; but his victory was perhaps still more
useful to him.
He said to Henry: "The emperor is a liar observing neither faith nor
promise: the Archduchess Margaret is a woman of evil life;[517] Don
Ferdinand is a child, and Bourbon a traitor. Sire, you have other
things to do with your money than to squander it on these four
individuals. Charles is aiming at universal monarchy; Pavia is the
first step of this throne, and if England does not oppose him, he
will attain it." Joachim having come privily to London, Wolsey
prevailed upon Henry to conclude between England and France an
"_indissoluble peace_ by land and sea."[518] At last then he was in a
position to prove to Charles that it is a dangerous thing to oppose
the ambition of a priest.
[517] Milady Margaret was a ribaud. Cotton MSS. Vesp. C. 3, p. 55.
[518] Sincera fidelis, firma et indissolubilis pax. (Rymer, Fœdera, p.
32, 33.) A sincere, faithful, firm and indissoluble peace.
[Sidenote: NEW TAXES AND INSURRECTION.]
This was not the only advantage Wolsey derived from the triumph of his
enemy. The citizens of London imagined that the king of England would
be in a few weeks in Paris; Wolsey, rancorous and grasping, determined
to make them pay dearly for their enthusiasm. "You desire to conquer
France," said he; "you are right. Give me then for that purpose the
sixth part of your property; that is a trifle to gratify so noble an
inclination." England did not think so; this illegal demand aroused
universal complaint. "We are English and not French, freemen and not
slaves,"[519] was the universal cry. Henry might tyrannize over his
court, but not lay hands on his subjects property.
[519] Hall's Chronicle, p. 696. If men should give their goods by a
commission, then were it worse than the taxes of France; and so
England would be bond and not free.
The eastern counties rose in insurrection: four thousand men were
under arms in a moment; and Henry was guarded in his own palace by
only a few servants. It was necessary to break down the bridges to
stop the insurgents.[520] The courtiers complained to the king; the
king threw the blame on the cardinal; the cardinal laid it on the
clergy, who had encouraged him to impose this tax by quoting to him
the example of Joseph demanding of the Egyptians the fifth part of
their goods; and the clergy in their turn ascribed the insurrection to
the gospellers, who (said they) were stirring up a peasant war in
England, as they had done in Germany. Reformation produces revolution:
this is the favourite text of the followers of the pope. Violent hands
must be laid upon the heretics. _Non pluit Deus, duc ad
christianos._[521]
[520] Ibid.
[521] "God sends no rain ... lead us against the Christians." A cry
ascribed by Augustine to the pagans of the first ages.
[Sidenote: TENTERDEN STEEPLE.]
The charge of the priests was absurd; but the people are blind
whenever the Gospel is concerned, and occasionally the governors are
blind also. Serious reasoning was not necessary to confute this
invention. "Here, by the way, I will tell you a merry toy," said
Latimer one day in the pulpit. "Master More was once sent in
commission into Kent to help to try out, if it might be, what was the
cause of Goodwin Sands and the shelf that stopped up Sandwich haven.
He calleth the country afore him, such as were thought to be men of
experience, and among others came in an old man with a white head, and
one that was thought to be little less than one hundred years old. So
Master More called the old aged man unto him, and said: Father, tell
me if you can, what is the cause of this great arising of the sands
and shelves hereabout, that stop up Sandwich haven? Forsooth, Sir,
(quoth he) I am an old man, for I am well-nigh an hundred, and I think
that Tenterden steeple is the cause of the Goodwin Sands. For I am an
old man, Sir, and I may remember the building of Tenterden steeple,
and before that steeple was in building, there was no manner of flats
or sands." After relating this anecdote, Latimer slyly added: "Even
so, to my purpose, is preaching of God's word the cause of rebellion,
as Tenterden steeple was the cause Sandwich haven is decayed."[522]
[522] Latimer's Sermons, vol. i. p. 251.
There was no persecution: there was something else to be done. Wolsey,
feeling certain that Charles had obstructed his accession to the
popedom, thought only in what manner he might take his revenge. But
during this time Tyndale also was pursuing his aim; and the year 1525,
memorable for the battle of Pavia, was destined to be no less so in
the British isles, by a still more important victory.
CHAPTER XI.
Tyndale at Hamburg--First two
Gospels--Embarrassment--Tyndale at Wittemberg--At
Cologne--The New Testament at Press--Sudden
Interruption--Cochlœus at Cologne--Rupert's
Manuscripts--Discovery of Cochlœus--His Inquiries--His
Alarm--Rincke and the Senate's Prohibition--Consternation
and Decision of Tyndale--Cochlœus writes to England--Tyndale
ascends the Rhine--Prints two Editions at Worms--Tyndale's
Prayer.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE AT HAMBURG.]
The ship which carried Tyndale and his MSS. cast anchor at Hamburg,
where, since the year 1521, the Gospel had counted numerous friends.
Encouraged by the presence of his brethren, the Oxford fellow had
taken a quiet lodging in one of the narrow winding streets of that old
city, and had immediately resumed his task. A secretary, whom he
terms his "faithful companion,"[523] aided him in collating texts; but
it was not long before this brother, whose name is unknown to us,
thinking himself called to preach Christ in places where He had as yet
never been proclaimed, left Tyndale. A former friar-observant of the
Franciscan order at Greenwich, having abandoned the cloister, and
being at this time without resources, offered his services to the
Hellenist. William Roye was one of those men (and they are always
pretty numerous) whom impatience of the yoke alienates from Rome
without their being attracted by the Spirit of God to Christ. Acute,
insinuating, crafty, and yet of pleasing manners, he charmed all those
who had mere casual relations with him. Tyndale banished to the
distant shores of the Elbe, surrounded by strange customs, and hearing
only a foreign tongue, often thought of England, and was impatient
that his country should enjoy the result of his labours: he accepted
Roye's aid. The Gospels of Matthew and Mark, translated and printed at
Hamburg, became, it would seem, the first fruits to England of his
great task.
[523] Tyndale's Doctr. Treatises, p. 37.
But Tyndale was soon overwhelmed by annoyances. Roye, who was pretty
manageable while he had no money, had become intractable now that his
purse was less empty.[524] What was to be done? The reformer having
spent the ten pounds he had brought from England, could not satisfy
the demands of his assistant, pay his own debts, and remove to another
city. He became still more sparing and economical. The Wartburg, in
which Luther had translated the New Testament, was a palace in
comparison with the lodging in which the reformer of wealthy England
endured hunger and cold, while toiling day and night to give the
Gospel to the English Christians.
[524] Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i, 49.
About the end of 1524, Tyndale sent the two Gospels to Monmouth; and a
merchant named John Collenbeke, having brought him the ten pounds he
had left in the hands of his old patron, he prepared to depart
immediately.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE AT COLOGNE.]
Where should he go? Not to England; he must complete his task before
all things. Could he be in Luther's neighbourhood and not desire to
see him? He needed not the Saxon reformer either to find the truth,
which he had already known at Oxford, or to undertake the translation
of the Scriptures, which he had already begun in the vale of the
Severn. But did not all evangelical foreigners flock to Wittemberg? To
remove all doubt as to the interview of the reformers, it would be
desirable perhaps to find some trace at Wittemberg[525] either in the
university registers or in the writings of the Saxon reformers. Yet
several contemporaneous testimonies seem to give a sufficient degree
of probability to this conference. Foxe tells us: "He had an interview
with Luther and other learned men of that country."[526] This must
have been in the spring of 1525.
[525] I requested a German divine to investigate this matter, but his
researches were unsuccessful.
[526] Mr. Anderson, in his excellent work (Annals of the English
Bible, vol. i. p. 47) disputes the interview between these two
reformers, but his arguments do not convince me. We can understand how
Luther, at that time busily engaged in his dispute with Carlstadt,
does not mention Tyndale's visit in his letters. But, besides Foxe,
there are other contemporaneous authorities in favour of this fact.
Cochlæus, a German well informed on all the movements of the
reformers, and whom we shall presently see on Tyndale's traces, says
of him and Roye: "Duo Angli apostatæ, _qui aliquamdiu fuerant
Vuitenbergæ_." Two English apostates, who had been for a while at
Wittemberg. (p. 123). And Sir Thomas More, having said that Tyndale
had gone to see Luther, Tyndale was content to reply: "When Mr. More
saith Tyndale was confederate with Luther, that is not truth." Answer
to Sir Thos. More's Dialogue, p. 147 (Park. Soc.) He denied the
_confederation_, but not the _visit_. If Tyndale had not seen Luther,
he would have been more explicit, and would probably have said that he
had never even met him.
Tyndale, desirious of drawing nearer to his native country, turned his
eyes towards the Rhine. There were at Cologne some celebrated printers
well known in England, and among others Quentel and the Byrckmans.
Francis Byrckman had warehouses in St. Paul's churchyard in London,--a
circumstance that might facilitate the introduction and sale of the
Testament printed on the banks of the Rhine. This providential
circumstance decided Tyndale in favour of Cologne, and thither he
repaired with Roye and his MSS. Arrived in the gloomy streets of the
city of Agrippina, he contemplated its innumerable churches, and above
all its ancient cathedral re-echoing to the voices of its canons, and
was oppressed with sorrow as he beheld the priests and monks and
mendicants and pilgrims who, from all parts of Europe, poured in to
adore the pretended relics of the _three wise men_ and of the _eleven
thousand virgins_. And then Tyndale asked himself whether it was
really in this superstitious city that the New Testament was to be
printed in English. This was not all. The Reform movement then at work
in Germany had broken out at Cologne during the feast of Whitsuntide,
and the archbishop had just forbidden all evangelical worship. Yet
Tyndale persevered, and submitting to the most minute precautions, not
to compromise his work, he took an obscure lodging where he kept
himself closely hidden.
Soon however, trusting in God, he called on the printer, presented his
manuscripts to him, ordered six thousand copies, and then, upon
reflection, sank down to three thousand for fear of a seizure.[527]
The printing went on; one sheet followed another; gradually the Gospel
unfolded its mysteries in the English tongue, and Tyndale could not
contain himself for very joy.[528] He saw in his mind's eye the
triumphs of the Scriptures over all the kingdom, and exclaimed with
transport: "Whether the king wills it or not, ere long all the people
of England, enlightened by the New Testament, will obey the
Gospel."[529]
[527] Sex millia sub prælum dari. (Cochlæus, p. 123.) That six
thousand should be printed.
[528] Tanta ex ea spe lætitia Lutheranos invasit. (Ibid. p. 124.) Such
joy possessed the Lutherans from that hope.
[529] Cunctos Angliæ populos, volente nolente rege. Ibid. 123.
But on a sudden that sun whose earliest beams he had hailed with songs
of joy, was hidden by thick clouds. One day, just as the tenth sheet
had been thrown off, the printer hastened to Tyndale, and informed him
that the senate of Cologne forbade him to continue the work. Every
thing was discovered then. No doubt Henry VIII, who has burnt Luther's
books, wishes to burn the New Testament also, to destroy Tyndale's
manuscripts, and deliver him up to death. Who had betrayed him? He was
lost in unavailing conjectures, and one thing only appeared certain:
alas! his vessel, which was moving onwards in full sail, had struck
upon a reef! The following is the explanation of this unexpected
incident.
[Sidenote: COCHLÆUS AT COLOGNE.]
A man whom we have often met with in the course of this history,[530]
one of the most violent enemies of the Reformation--we mean
Cochlæus--had arrived in Cologne. The wave of popular agitation which
had stirred this city during the Whitsuntide holidays, had previously
swept over Frankfort during the festival of Easter; and the dean of
Notre-dame, taking advantage of a moment when the gates of the city
were open, had escaped a few minutes before the burghers entered his
house to arrest him. On arriving at Cologne, where he hoped to live
unknown under the shadow of the powerful elector, he had gone to lodge
with George Lauer, a canon in the church of the Apostles.
[530] Book ix, chapter xii, etc.
By a singular destiny the two most opposite men, Tyndale and Cochlæus,
were in hiding in the same city; they could not long remain there
without coming into collision.
[Sidenote: RUPERT'S MANUSCRIPTS.]
On the right bank of the Rhine, and opposite Cologne, stood the
monastery of Deutz, one of whose abbots, Rupert, who lived in the
twelfth century, had said: "To be ignorant of Scripture is to be
ignorant of Jesus Christ. This is _the scripture of nations_![531]
This book of God, which is not pompous in words and poor in meaning
like Plato, ought to be set before every people, and to proclaim
aloud to the whole world the salvation of all." One day, when Cochlæus
and his host were talking of Rupert, the canon informed the dean that
the _heretic_ Osiander of Nuremberg was in treaty with the abbot of
Deutz about publishing the writings of this ancient doctor. Cochlæus
guessed that Osiander was desirous of bringing forward the
contemporary of Saint Bernard as a witness in defence of the
Reformation. Hastening to the monastery he alarmed the abbot: "Intrust
to me the manuscripts of your celebrated predecessor," he said; "I
will undertake to print them and prove that he was one of us." The
monks placed them in his hands, stipulating for an early publication,
from which they expected no little renown.[532] Cochlæus immediately
went to Peter Quentel and Arnold Byrckman to make the necessary
arrangements. They were Tyndale's printers.
[531] Scripturæ populorum. Opp. i, p. 641.
[532] Cum monachi quieturi non erant, nisi ederentur opera illa.
(Cochl. p. 124.) When the monks could not be quieted unless these
works should be published.
There Cochlæus made a more important discovery than that of Rupert's
manuscripts. Byrckman and Quentel having invited him one day to meet
several of their colleagues at dinner, a printer, somewhat elevated by
wine, declared in his cups, (to borrow the words of Cochlæus):[533]
"Whether the king and the cardinal of York wish it or not, all England
will soon be Lutheran."[534] Cochlæus listened and grew alarmed; he
made inquiry, and was informed that _two Englishmen_, learned men and
skilled in the languages, were concealed at Cologne.[535] But all his
efforts to discover more proved unavailing.
[533] Audivit eos aliquando inter pocula fiducialiter jactitare.
(Ibid. p. 125.) He heard them one day confidently assert in their
cups.
[534] Velint nolint rex et cardinalis Angliæ, totam Angliam brevi fore
Lutheranam. Ibid.
[535] Duos ibi latitare Anglos eruditos, linguarumque peritos. Ibid.
[Sidenote: THE SECRET BETRAYED.]
There was no more repose for the dean of Frankfort; his imagination
fermented, his mind became alarmed. "What," said he, "shall England,
that faithful servant of the popedom, be perverted like Germany? Shall
the English, the most religious people of Christendom,[536] and whose
king once ennobled himself by writing against Luther,--shall they be
invaded by heresy?... Shall the mighty cardinal-legate of York be
compelled to flee from his palace, as I was from Frankfort?" Cochlæus
continued his search; he paid frequent visits to the printers, spoke
to them in a friendly tone, flattered them, invited them to visit him
at the canon's; but as yet he dared not hazard the important question;
it was sufficient for the moment to have won the good graces of the
depositaries of the secret. He soon took a new step; he was careful
not to question them before one another; but he procured a private
interview with one of them,[537] and supplied him plentifully with
Rhine wine:--he himself is our informant.[538] Artful questions
embarrassed the unwary printer, and at last the secret was disclosed.
"The New Testament," Cochlæus learnt, "is translated into English;
three thousand copies are in the press; fourscore pages in quarto are
ready; the expense is fully supplied by English merchants, who are
secretly to convey the work when printed, and to disperse it widely
through all England, before the king or the cardinal can discover or
prohibit it.[539]... Thus will Britain be converted to the opinions of
Luther."[540]
[536] In gente illa religiosissima vereque Christiana. Ibid. p. 131.
[537] Unus eorum in secretiori colloquio revelavit illi arcanum.
(Cochlæus. p. 131.) One of them in a private conference revealed the
secret to him.
[538] Rem omnem ut acceperat _vini beneficio_. Ibid.
[539] Opus excussum clam invecturi per totam Angliam latenter
dispergere vellent. Ibid.
[540] Ad Lutheri partes trahenda est Anglia. Ibid.
The surprise of Cochlæus equalled his alarm;[541] he dissembled; he
wished to learn, however, where the two Englishmen lay concealed; but
all his exertions proved ineffectual, and he returned to his lodgings
filled with emotion. The danger was very great. A stranger and an
exile, what can he do to oppose this impious undertaking? Where shall
he find a friend to England, prepared to show his zeal in warding off
the threatened blow?... He was bewildered.
[541] Metu et admiratione affectus. Ibid.
A flash of light suddenly dispelled the darkness. A person of some
consequence at Cologne, Herman Rincke, a patrician and imperial
councillor, had been sent on important business by the Emperor
Maximilian to Henry VII, and from that time he had always shown a
great attachment to England. Cochlæus determined to reveal the fatal
secret to him; but, being still alarmed by the scenes at Frankfort, he
was afraid to conspire openly against the Reformation. He had left an
aged mother and a little niece at home, and was unwilling to do any
thing which might compromise them. He therefore crept stealthily
towards Rincke's house (as he tells us himself),[542] slipped in
secretly, and unfolded the whole matter to him. Rincke could not
believe that the New Testament in English was printing at Cologne;
however, he sent a confidential person to make inquiries, who reported
to him that Cochlæus's information was correct, and that he had found
in the printing office a large supply of paper intended for the
edition.[543] The patrician immediately proceeded to the senate, and
spoke of Wolsey, of Henry VIII, and of the preservation of the Romish
church in England; and that body which, under the influence of the
archbishop, had long since forgotten the rights of liberty, forbade
the printer to continue the work. Thus then there were to be no New
Testaments for England! A practised hand had warded off the blow aimed
at Roman-catholicism; Tyndale would perhaps be thrown into prison, and
Cochlæus enjoy a complete triumph.
[542] Abiit igitur clam ad H. Rincke. Ibid.
[543] Ingentem papyri copiam ibi existere. Ibid.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE RESCUES HIS WORK.]
Tyndale was at first confounded. Were so many years of toil lost,
then, for ever? His trial seemed beyond his strength.[544] "They are
ravening wolves," he exclaimed, "they preach to others, Steal not, and
yet they have robbed the soul of man of the bread of life, and fed her
with the shales [shells?] and cods of the hope in their merits and
confidence in their good works."[545] Yet Tyndale did not long remain
cast down; for his faith was of that kind which would remove
mountains. Is it not the word of God that is imperilled? If he does
not abandon himself, God will not abandon him. He must anticipate the
senate of Cologne. Daring and prompt in all his movements, Tyndale
bade Roye follow him, hastened to the printing office, collected the
sheets, jumped into a boat, and rapidly ascended the river, carrying
with him the hope of England.[546]
[544] Necessity and combrance (God is record) _above strength_. Tynd.
Doctr. Tr. p. 390.
[545] Tyndale, Expositions, p. 123, (Parker Society).
[546] Arreptis secum quaternionibus impressis aufugerunt navigio per
Rhenum ascendentes. (Cochl. p. 126.) Laying hold of four sheets that
were printed they escaped on board a vessel, and ascended the Rhine.
When Cochlæus and Rincke, accompanied by the officers of the senate,
reached the printing office, they were surprised beyond measure. The
apostate had secured the abominable papers!... Their enemy had escaped
like a bird from the net of the fowler. Where was he to be found now?
He would no doubt go and place himself under the protection of some
_Lutheran_ prince, whither Cochlæus would take good care not to pursue
him; but there was one resource left. These English books can do no
harm in Germany; they must be prevented reaching London. He wrote to
Henry VIII, to Wolsey, and to the bishop of Rochester. "Two
Englishmen," said he to the king, "like the two eunuchs who desired to
lay hands on Ahasuerus, are plotting wickedly against the peace of
your kingdom; but I, like the faithful Mordecai,[547] will lay open
their designs to you. They wish to send the New Testament in English
to your people. Give orders at every seaport to prevent the
introduction of this most baneful merchandise."[548] Such was the name
given by this zealous follower of the pope to the word of God. An
unexpected ally soon restored peace to the soul of Cochlæus. The
celebrated Dr. Eck, a champion of popery far more formidable than he
was, had arrived at Cologne on his way to London, and he undertook to
arouse the anger of the bishops and of the king.[549] The eyes of the
greatest opponents of the Reformation seemed now to be fixed on
England. Eck, who boasted of having gained the most signal triumphs
over Luther, would easily get the better of the humble tutor and his
New Testament.
[547] He was indebted to me no less than Ahasuerus was indebted to
Mordecai. Annals of the Bible, i, p. 61.
[548] Ut quam diligentissime præcaverint in omnibus Angliæ portubus,
ne merx illa perniciosissima inveheretur. Cochlæus, p. 126.
[549] Ad quem Doctor Eckius venit, dum in Angliam tenderet. Ibid. 109.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE ARRIVES AT WORMS.]
During this time Tyndale, guarding his precious bales, ascended the
rapid river as quickly as he could. He passed before the antique
cities and the smiling villages scattered along the banks of the Rhine
amidst scenes of picturesque beauty. The mountains, glens, and rocks,
the dark forests, the ruined fortresses, the gothic churches, the
boats that passed and repassed each other, the birds of prey that
soared over his head, as if they bore a mission from Cochlæus--nothing
could turn his eyes from the treasure he was carrying with him. At
last, after a voyage of five or six days, he reached Worms, where
Luther, four years before, had exclaimed: "Here I stand, I can do no
other; may God help me!"[550] These words of the German reformer, so
well known to Tyndale, were the star that had guided him to Worms. He
knew that the Gospel was preached in that ancient city. "The citizens
are subject to fits of Lutheranism," said Cochlæus.[551] Tyndale
arrived there, not as Luther did, surrounded by an immense crowd, but
unknown, and imagining himself pursued by the myrmidons of Charles and
of Henry. As he landed from the boat he cast an uneasy glance around
him, and laid down his precious burden on the bank of the river.
[550] See above, book vii, chapter viii.
[551] Ascendentes Wormatiam ubi plebs pleno furore lutherisabat.
Cochlæus, p. 126.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE'S PRAYER.]
He had had time to reflect on the dangers which threatened his work.
As his enemies would have marked the edition, some few sheets of it
having fallen into their hands, he took steps to mislead the
inquisitors, and began a new edition, striking out the prologue and
the notes, and substituting the more portable _octavo_ form for the
original _quarto_. Peter Schæffer, the grandson of Fust, one of the
inventors of printing, lent his presses for this important work. The
two editions were quietly completed about the end of the year
1525.[552]
[552] A copy of the _octavo_ edition exists in the Museum of the
Baptist College at Bristol. If it is compared with the _quarto_
edition, a sensible progress will be found in the orthography. Thus we
read in the latter: _prophettes_, _synners_, _mooste_, _sekynge_; in
the octavo we find, _prophets_, _sinners_, _most_, _seking_. Annals of
the Bible, i. p. 70.
Thus were the wicked deceived: they would have deprived the English
people of the oracles of God, and _two_ editions were now ready to
enter England. "Give diligence," said Tyndale to his fellow-countrymen,
as he sent from Worms the Testament he had just translated, "unto the
words of eternal life, by the which, if we repent and believe them, we
are born anew, created afresh, and enjoy the fruits of the blood of
Christ."[553] In the beginning of 1526, these books crossed the sea by
way of Antwerp or Rotterdam. Tyndale was happy; but he knew that the
unction of the Holy Ghost alone could enable the people of England to
understand these sacred pages; and accordingly he followed them night
and day with his prayers. "The scribes and Pharisees," said he, "had
thrust up the sword of the word of God in a scabbard or sheath of
glosses, and therein had knit it fast, so that it could neither stick
nor cut.[554] Now, O God, draw this sharp sword from the scabbard.
Strike, wound, cut asunder, the soul and the flesh, so that man being
divided in two, and set at variance with himself, may be in peace with
thee to all eternity!"
[553] Epistle, in init.
[554] Tyndale's Works, ii, p. 378; or Expositions (Matthew), p. 131,
(Park. Soc.)
CHAPTER XII.
Worms and Cambridge--St. Paul resuscitated--Latimer's
Preaching--Never Man spake like this Man--Joy and Vexation
at Cambridge--Sermon by Prior Buckingham--Irony--Latimer's
Reply to Buckingham--The Students threatened--Latimer
preaches before the Bishop--He is forbidden to preach--The
most zealous of Bishops--Barnes the Restorer of
Letters--Bilney undertakes to convert him--Barnes offers his
Pulpit to Latimer--Fryth's Thirst for God--Christmas Eve,
1525--Storm against Barnes--Ferment in the Colleges--Germany
at Cambridge--Meetings at Oxford--General Expectation.
[Sidenote: ST. PAUL REVIVED.]
While these works were accomplishing at Cologne and Worms, others were
going on at Cambridge and Oxford. On the banks of the Rhine they were
preparing the seed; in England they were drawing the furrows to
receive it. The gospel produced a great agitation at Cambridge.
Bilney, whom we may call the father of the English Reformation, since,
being the first converted by the New Testament, he had brought to the
knowledge of God the energetic Latimer, and so many other witnesses of
the truth,--Bilney did not at that time put himself forward, like many
of those who had listened to him: his vocation was prayer. Timid
before men, he was full of boldness before God, and day and night
called upon him for souls. But while he was kneeling in his closet,
others were at work in the world. Among these Stafford was
particularly remarkable. "Paul is risen from the dead," said many as
they heard him. And in fact Stafford explained with so much life the
true meaning of the words of the apostle and of the four
evangelists,[555] that these holy men, whose faces had been so long
hidden under the dense traditions of the schools,[556] reappeared
before the youth of the university such as the apostolic times had
beheld them. But it was not only their _persons_ (for that would have
been a trifling matter), it was their _doctrine_ which Stafford laid
before his hearers. While the schoolmen of Cambridge were declaring to
their pupils a reconciliation which was not yet worked out, and
telling them that pardon must be purchased by the works prescribed by
the church, Stafford taught that redemption was _accomplished_, that
the satisfaction offered by Jesus Christ was _perfect_; and he added,
that popery having revived the _kingdom of the law_, God, by the
Reformation, was now reviving the _kingdom of grace_. The Cambridge
students, charmed by their master's teaching, greeted him with
applause, and, indulging a little too far in their enthusiasm, said to
one another as they left the lecture-room: "Which is the most indebted
to the other? Stafford to Paul, who left him the holy epistles; or
Paul to Stafford, who has resuscitated that apostle and his holy
doctrines, which the middle ages had obscured?"
[555] He set forth in his lectures the native sense. Thomas Becon, ii,
p. 426.
[556] Obscured through the darkness and mists of the papists. Ibid.
[Sidenote: LATIMER'S PREACHING.]
Above Bilney and Stafford rose Latimer, who, by the power of the Holy
Ghost, transfused into other hearts the learned lessons of his
master.[557] Being informed of the work that Tyndale was preparing, he
maintained from the Cambridge pulpits that the Bible ought to be read
in the vulgar tongue.[558] "The author of Holy Scripture," said he,
"is the mighty One, the Everlasting ... _God himself!_... and this
Scripture partakes of the might and eternity of its author. There is
neither king nor emperor that is not bound to obey it. Let us beware
of those bypaths of human tradition, filled of stones, brambles, and
uprooted trees. Let us follow the straight road of the word. It does
not concern us what the Fathers have done, but what they should have
done."[559]
[557] A private instructor to the rest of his brethren within the
university. Foxe, Acts, vii, p. 438.
[558] He proved in his sermons that the Holy Scriptures ought to be
read in the English tongue of all Christian people. Becon, vol. ii. p.
424. (Park. Soc.)
[559] We find his opinions upon that subject in a later sermon.
Latimer's sermons, p. 96, 97. (Park. Soc.)
A numerous congregation crowded to Latimer's preaching, and his
hearers hung listening to his lips. One in particular attracted
attention. He was a Norfolk youth, sixteen years of age, whose
features were lighted up with understanding and piety. This poor
scholar had received with eagerness the truth announced by the former
cross-bearer. He did not miss one of his sermons; with a sheet of
paper on his knees, and a pencil in his hand, he took down part of the
discourse, trusting the remainder to his memory.[560] This was Thomas
Becon, afterwards chaplain to Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury. "If I
possess the knowledge of God," said he, "I owe it (under God) to
Latimer."
[560] A poor scholar of Cambridge ... but a child of sixteen years.
Becon's Works, ii. p. 424.
Latimer had hearers of many sorts. By the side of those who gave way
to their enthusiasm stood men "swelling, blown full, and puffed up
like unto Esop's frog, with envy and malice against him," said
Becon;[561] these were the partizans of traditional catholicism, whom
curiosity had attracted, or whom their evangelical friends had dragged
to the church. But as Latimer spoke a marvellous transformation was
worked in them; by degrees their angry features relaxed, their fierce
looks grew softer; and, if these friends of the priests were asked,
after their return home, what they thought of the heretic preacher,
they replied, in the exaggeration of their surprise and rapture:
"_Nunquam sic locutus est homo, sicut hic homo!_" (John vii. 46.)
[561] Becon's Works, ii. p. 425.
[Sidenote: JOY AND ANGER AT CAMBRIDGE.]
When he descended from the pulpit, Latimer hastened to practise what
he had taught. He visited the narrow chambers of the poor scholars,
and the dark rooms of the working classes: "he watered with good deeds
whatsoever he had before planted with godly words,"[562] said the
student who collected his discourses. The disciples conversed together
with joy and simplicity of heart; everywhere the breath of a new life
was felt; as yet no external reforms had been effected, and yet the
spiritual church of the gospel and of the Reformation was already
there. And thus the recollection of these happy times was long
commemorated in the adage:
When Master Stafford read,
And Master Latimer preached,
Then was Cambridge blessed.[563]
[562] Ibid.
[563] Becon's Works, ii. p, 425.
The priests could not remain inactive: they heard speak of grace and
liberty, and would have nothing to do with either. If _grace_ is
tolerated, will it not take from the hands of the clergy the
manipulation of salvation, indulgences, penance, and all the rubrics
of the canon law? If _liberty_ is conceded, will not the hierarchy,
with all its degrees, pomps, violence, and scaffolds, be shaken? Rome
desires no other liberty than that of free-will, which, exalting the
natural strength of fallen man, dries up as regards mankind the
springs of divine life, withers Christianity, and changes that
heavenly religion into a human moralism and legal observances.
[Sidenote: THE PRIOR'S SERMON.]
The friends of popery, therefore, collected their forces to oppose the
new religion. "Satan, who never sleeps," says the simple chronicler,
"called up his familiar spirits, and sent them forth against the
reformers." Meetings were held in the convents, but particularly in
that belonging to the Greyfriars. They mustered all their forces. _An
eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth_, said they. Latimer extols in
his sermons the _blessings_ of Scripture; we must deliver a sermon
also to show its _dangers_. But where was the orator to be found who
could cope with him? This was a very embarrassing question to the
clerical party. Among the Greyfriars there was a haughty monk, adroit
and skilful in little matters, and full at once of ignorance and
pride: it was the prior Buckingham. No one had shown more hatred
against the evangelical Christians, and no one was in truth a greater
stranger to the Gospel. This was the man commissioned to set forth the
dangers of the word of God. He was by no means familiar with the New
Testament; he opened it however, picked out a few passages here and
there which seemed to favour his thesis; and then, arrayed in his
costliest robes, with head erect and solemn step, already sure of
victory, he went into the pulpit, combated the heretic, and with
pompous voice stormed against the reading of the Bible;[564] it was in
his eyes the fountain of all heresies and misfortunes. "If that heresy
should prevail," he exclaimed, "there will be an end of everything
useful among us. The ploughman, reading in the gospel that _no man
having put his hand to the plough should look back_, would soon lay
aside his labour.... The baker, reading that a _little leaven
leaveneth the whole lump_, will in future make us nothing but very
insipid bread; and the simple man finding himself commanded _to pluck
out the right eye and cast it from thee_, England, after a few years,
will be a frightful spectacle; it will be little better than a nation
of blind and one-eyed men, sadly begging their bread from door to
door."[565]
[564] With great pomp and prolixity. Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 8.
[565] The nation full of blind beggars. Gilpin's Life of Latimer.
p. 8.
This discourse moved that part of the audience for which it was
intended. "The heretic is silenced," said the monks and clerks; but
sensible people smiled, and Latimer was delighted that they had given
him such an adversary. Being of a lively disposition and inclined to
irony, he resolved to lash the platitudes of the pompous friar. There
are some absurdities, he thought, which can only be refuted by showing
how foolish they are. Does not even the grave Tertullian speak of
things which are only to be laughed at, for fear of giving them
importance by a serious refutation?[566] "Next Sunday I will reply to
him," said Latimer.
[566] Si et ridebitur alicubi materiis ipsis satisfiet. Multa sunt sic
digna revinci, ne gravitate adorentur. (Contra Valentin, c. vi.) See
also Pascal's Provincials, Letter xi. And if ridicule shall at any
time be excited, it is quite suited to such subjects. Many things
deserve thus to be overcome, lest by a serious refutation, they get
more respect than they deserve.
[Sidenote: LATIMER'S REPLY.]
The church was crowded when Buckingham, with the hood of St. Francis
on his shoulders and with a vain-glorious air, took his place solemnly
in front of the preacher. Latimer began by recapitulating the least
weak of his adversary's arguments; then taking them up one by one, he
turned them over and over, and pointed out all their absurdity with so
much wit, that the poor prior was buried in his own nonsense. Then
turning towards the listening crowd, he exclaimed with warmth: "This
is how your skilful guides abuse your understanding. They look upon
you as children that must be for ever kept in leading-strings. Now,
the hour of your majority has arrived; boldly examine the Scriptures,
and you will easily discover the absurdity of the teaching of your
doctors." And then desirous, as Solomon has it, of _answering a fool
according to his folly_, he added: "As for the comparisons drawn from
the _plough_, the _leaven_, and the _eye_, of which the reverend prior
has made so singular a use, is it necessary to justify these passages
of Scripture? Must I tell you what _plough_, what _leaven_, what _eye_
is here meant? Is not our Lord's teaching distinguished by those
expressions which, under a popular form, conceal a spiritual and
profound meaning? Do not we know that in all languages and in all
speeches, it is not on the _image_ that we must fix our eyes, but on
the _thing_ which the image represents?... For instance," he
continued, and as he said these words he cast a piercing glance on the
prior, "if we see a fox painted preaching in a friar's hood, nobody
imagines that a fox is meant, but that craft and hypocrisy are
described, which are so often found disguised in that garb."[567] At
these words the poor prior, on whom the eyes of all the congregation
were turned, rose and left the church hastily, and ran off to his
convent to hide his rage and confusion among his brethren. The monks
and their creatures uttered loud cries against Latimer. It was
unpardonable (they said) to have been thus wanting in respect to the
cowl of St. Francis. But his friends replied: "Do we not whip
children? and he who treats Scripture worse than a child, does he not
deserve to be well flogged?"
[567] Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 10.
The Romish party did not consider themselves beaten. The heads of
colleges and the priests held frequent conferences. The professors
were desired to watch carefully over their pupils, and to lead them
back to the teaching of the church by flattery and by threats. "We are
putting our lance in rest," they told the students; "if you become
evangelicals, your advancement is at an end." But these open-hearted
generous youths loved rather to be poor with Christ, than rich with
the priests. Stafford continued to teach, Latimer to preach, and
Bilney to visit the poor: the doctrine of Christ ceased not to be
spread abroad, and souls to be converted.
One weapon only was left to the schoolmen; this was persecution, the
favourite arm of Rome. "Our enterprise has not succeeded," said they;
"Buckingham is a fool. The best way of answering these _gospellers_ is
to prevent their speaking." Dr. West, bishop of Ely, was ordinary of
Cambridge; they called for his intervention, and he ordered one of the
doctors to inform him the next time Latimer was to preach; "but,"
added he, "do not say a word to any one. I wish to come without being
expected."
[Sidenote: LATIMER PREACHES BEFORE THE BISHOP.]
One day as Latimer was preaching in Latin _ad clerum_, the bishop
suddenly entered the university church, attended by a number of
priests. Latimer stopped, waiting respectfully until West and his
train had taken their places. "A new audience," thought he; "and
besides, an audience worthy of greater honour calls for a new theme.
Leaving, therefore, the subject I had proposed, I will take up one
that relates to the episcopal charge, and will preach on these words:
_Christus existens Pontifex futurorum bonorum_." (Hebrews ix. 11.)
Then describing Jesus Christ, Latimer represented him as the "true and
perfect pattern unto all other bishops."[568] There was not a single
virtue pointed out in the divine bishop that did not correspond with
some defect in the Romish bishops. Latimer's caustic wit had a free
course at their expense; but there was so much gravity in his sallies,
and so lively a Christianity in his descriptions, that every one must
have felt them to be the cries of a Christian conscience rather than
the sarcasms of an ill-natured disposition. Never had bishop been
taught by one of his priests like this man. "Alas!" said many, "our
bishops are not of that breed: they are descended from Annas and
Caiaphas." West was not more at his ease than Buckingham had been
formerly. He stifled his anger, however; and after the sermon, said to
Latimer with a gracious accent: "You have excellent talents, and if
you would do one thing I should be ready to kiss your feet."[569]...
What humility in a bishop!... "Preach in this same church," continued
West, "a sermon ... against Martin Luther. That is the best way of
checking heresy." Latimer understood the prelate's meaning, and
replied calmly: "If Luther preaches the word of God, I cannot oppose
him. But if he teaches the contrary, I am ready to attack
him."--"Well, well, Master Latimer," exclaimed the bishop, "I perceive
that you smell somewhat of the pan.[570]... One day or another you
will repent of that merchandise."
[568] Strype's Eccles. Mem. iii. p. 369.
[569] I will kneel down and kiss your foot. Ibid.
[570] Ibid. 370.
West having left Cambridge in great irritation against that rebellious
clerk, hastened to convoke his chapter, and forbade Latimer to preach
either in the university or in the diocese. "All that will live godly
shall suffer persecution," Saint Paul had said; Latimer was now
experiencing the truth of the saying. It was not enough that the name
of heretic had been given him by the priests and their friends, and
that the passers-by insulted him in the streets; ... the work of God
was violently checked. "Behold then," he exclaimed with a bitter sigh,
"the use of the episcopal office ... to hinder the preaching of Jesus
Christ!" Some few years later he sketched, with his usual caustic
irony, the portrait of a certain bishop, of whom Luther also used
frequently to speak: "Do you know," said Latimer, "who is the most
diligentest bishop and prelate in all England?... I see you listening
and hearkening that I should name him.... I will tell you.... It is
the devil. He is never out of his diocese; ye shall never find him out
of the way; call for him when you will, he's ever at home. He is ever
at his plough. Ye shall never find him idle, I warrant you. Where the
devil is resident--there away with books and up with candles; away
with bibles and up with beads; away with the light of the Gospel and
up with the light of candles, yea at noondays; down with Christ's
cross, up with purgatory pickpurse; away with clothing the naked, the
poor, and impotent, up with decking of images and gay garnishing of
stocks and stones; down with God's traditions and his most holy word
Oh! that our prelates would be as diligent to sow the corn of good
doctrine as Satan is to sow cockle and darnel!"[571] Truly may it be
said, "There was never such a preacher in England as he is."[572]
[571] Latimer's Sermons (Park. Soc.) vol. i. p. 70. Sermon of the
Plough.
[572] Ibid. p. 72.
The reformer was not satisfied with merely speaking: he acted.
"Neither the menacing words of his adversaries nor their cruel
imprisonments," says one of his contemporaries,[573] "could hinder him
from proclaiming God's truth." Forbidden to preach in the churches, he
went about from house to house. He longed for a pulpit however, and
this he obtained. A haughty prelate had in vain interdicted his
preaching; Jesus Christ, who is above all bishops, is able, when one
door is shut, to open another. Instead of one great preacher there
were soon two at Cambridge.
[573] He adds: Whatsoever he had once preached, he valiantly defended
the same. Becon, vol. ii. p. 424.
[Sidenote: ROBERT BARNES.]
An Augustine monk named Robert Barnes, a native of the county of
Norfolk, and a great scholar, had gone to Louvain to prosecute his
studies. Here he received the degree of doctor of divinity, and having
returned to Cambridge, was nominated prior of his monastery in 1523.
It was his fortune to reconcile learning and the Gospel in the
university; but by leaning too much to learning he diminished the
force of the word of God. A great crowd collected every day in the
Augustine convent to hear his lectures upon Terence, and in particular
upon Cicero. Many of those who were offended by the simple
Christianity of Bilney and Latimer, were attracted by this reformer of
another kind. Coleman, Coverdale, Field, Cambridge, Barley, and many
other young men of the university, gathered round Barnes and
proclaimed him "the restorer of letters."[574]
[574] The great restorer of good learning. Strype, i. p. 568; Foxe,
Acts, v. p. 415.
[Sidenote: HIS LECTURES.]
But the classics were only a preparatory teaching. The masterpieces of
antiquity having aided Barnes to clear the soil, he opened before his
class the epistles of St. Paul. He did not understand their divine
depth, like Stafford; he was not, like him, anointed with the Holy
Ghost; he differed from him on several of the apostle's doctrines, on
justification by faith, and on the new creature; but Barnes was an
enlightened and liberal man, not without some degree of piety, and
desirous, like Stafford, of substituting the teaching of Scripture for
the barren disputations of the school. But they soon came into
collision, and Cambridge long remembered that celebrated discussion in
which Barnes and Stafford contended with so much renown, employing no
other weapons than the word of God, to the great astonishment of the
blind doctors, and the great joy of the clearsighted, says the
chronicler.[575]
[575] Marvellous in the sight of the great blind doctors. Foxe, Acts,
v. p. 415.
Barnes was not as yet thoroughly enlightened, and the friends of the
Gospel were astonished that a man, a stranger to the truth, should
deal such heavy blows against error. Bilney, whom we continually meet
with when any secret work, a work of irresistible charity, is in
hand,--Bilney, who had converted Latimer, undertook to convert Barnes;
and Stafford, Arthur, Thistel of Pembroke, and Fooke of Benet's,
earnestly prayed God to grant his assistance. The experiment was
difficult: Barnes had reached that _juste milieu_, that "golden mean"
of the humanists, that intoxication of learning and glory, which
render conversion more difficult. Besides, could a man like Bilney
really dare to instruct the restorer of antiquity? But the humble
bachelor of arts, so simple in appearance, knew, like David of old, a
secret power by which the Goliath of the university might be
vanquished. He passed days and nights in prayer; and then urged Barnes
openly to manifest his convictions without fearing the reproaches of
the world. After many conversations and prayers, Barnes was converted
to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.[576] Still, the prior retained
something undecided in his character, and only half relinquished that
middle state with which he had begun. For instance, he appears to have
always believed in the efficacy of sacerdotal consecration to
transform the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. His
eye was not single, and his mind was often agitated and driven to and
fro by contrary thoughts: "Alas!" said this divided character one day,
"I confess that my cogitations be innumerable."[577]
[576] Bilney converted Dr. Barnes to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Foxe,
Acts, iv, p. 620.
[577] Ibid. v. p. 434.
Barnes, having come to a knowledge of the truth, immediately displayed
a zeal that was somewhat imprudent. Men of the least decided
character, and even those who are destined to make a signal fall, are
often those who begin their course with the greatest ardour. Barnes
seemed prepared at this time to withstand all England. Being now
united to Latimer by a tender Christian affection, he was indignant
that the powerful voice of his friend should be lost to the church.
"The bishop has forbidden you to preach," he said to him, "but my
monastery is not under episcopal jurisdiction. You can preach there."
Latimer went into the pulpit at the Augustine's, and the church could
not contain the crowd that flocked to it. At Cambridge, as at
Wittemberg, the chapel of the Augustine monks was used for the first
struggles of the Gospel. It was here that Latimer delivered some of
his best sermons.
[Sidenote: JOHN FRYTH.]
A very different man from Latimer, and particularly from Barnes, was
daily growing in influence among the English reformers: this was
Fryth. No one was more humble than he, and on that very account no one
was stronger. He was less brilliant than Barnes, but more solid. He
might have penetrated into the highest departments of science, but he
was drawn away by the deep mysteries of God's word; the call of
conscience prevailed over that of the understanding.[578] He did not
devote the energy of his soul to difficult questions; he thirsted for
God, for his truth, and for his love. Instead of propagating his
particular opinions and forming divisions, he clung only to the faith
which saves, and advanced the dominion of true unity. This is the mark
of the great servant of God. Humble before the Lord, mild before men,
and even in appearance somewhat timid, Fryth in the face of danger
displayed an intrepid courage. "My learning is small," he said, "but
the little I have I am determined to give to Jesus Christ for the
building of his temple."[579]
[578] Notwithstanding his other manifold and singular gifts and
ornaments of the mind, in him most pregnant. Tyndale and Fryth's
Works, iii, p. 73.
[579] That is very small, nevertheless that little. Ibid. p. 83.
Latimer's sermons, Barnes's ardour, and Fryth's firmness, excited
fresh zeal at Cambridge. They knew what was going on in Germany and
Switzerland; shall the English, ever in front, now remain in the rear?
Shall not Latimer, Bilney, Stafford, Barnes, and Fryth do what the
servants of God are doing in other places?
[Sidenote: CHRISTMAS EVE, 1525.]
A secret ferment announced an approaching crisis: every one expected
some change for better or for worse. The Evangelicals, confident in
the truth, and thinking themselves sure of victory, resolved to fall
upon the enemy simultaneously on several points. The Sunday before
Christmas, in the year 1525, was chosen for this great attack. While
Latimer should address the crowds that continued to fill the Augustine
chapel, and others were preaching in other places, Barnes was to
deliver a sermon in one of the churches in the town. But nothing
compromises the Gospel so much as a disposition turned towards outward
things. God, who grants his blessing only to undivided hearts,
permitted this general assault, of which Barnes was to be the hero, to
be marked by a defeat. The prior, as he went into the pulpit, thought
only of Wolsey. As the representative of the popedom in England, the
cardinal was the great obstacle to the Reformation. Barnes preached
from the epistle for the day: _Rejoice in the Lord alway_.[580] But
instead of announcing Christ and the joy of the Christian, he
imprudently declaimed against the luxury, pride, and diversions of the
churchmen, and everybody understood that he aimed at the cardinal. He
described those magnificent palaces, that brilliant suite, those
scarlet robes, and pearls, and gold, and precious stones, and all the
prelate's ostentation, so little in keeping (said he) with the stable
of Bethlehem. Two fellows of King's College, Robert Ridley and Walter
Preston, relations of Tonstall, bishop of London, who were
intentionally among the congregation, noted down in their tablets the
prior's imprudent expressions.
[580] Philippians iv, 4-7.
[Sidenote: FERMENT IN THE COLLEGES.]
The sermon was scarcely over when the storm broke out. "These people
are not satisfied with propagating monstrous heresies," exclaimed
their enemies, "but they must find fault with the powers that be.
To-day they attack the cardinal, to-morrow they will attack the king!"
Ridley and Preston accused Barnes to the vice-chancellor. All
Cambridge was in commotion. What! Barnes the Augustine prior, the
restorer of letters, accused as a Lollard!... The Gospel was
threatened with a danger more formidable than a prison or a scaffold.
The friends of the priests, knowing Barnes's weakness, and even his
vanity, hoped to obtain of him a disavowal that would cover the
evangelical party with shame. "What!" said these dangerous counsellors
to him, "the noblest career was open to you, and would you close
it?... Do, pray, explain away your sermon." They alarmed, they
flattered him; and the poor prior was near yielding to their
solicitations. "Next Sunday you will read this declaration," they said
to him. Barnes ran over the paper put into his hands, and saw no great
harm in it. However he desired to show it to Bilney and Stafford.
"Beware of such weakness," said these faithful men. Barnes then
recalled his promise, and for a season the enemies of the Gospel were
silent.
Its friends worked with increased energy. The fall from which one of
their companions had so narrowly escaped inspired them with fresh
zeal. The more indecision and weakness Barnes had shown, the more did
his brethren flee to God for courage and firmness. It was reported,
moreover, that a powerful ally was coming across the sea, and that the
Holy Scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue, were at last to be
given to the people. Wherever the word was preached, there the
congregation was largest. It was the seed-time of the church; all were
busy in the fields to prepare the soil and trace the furrows. Seven
colleges at least were in full ferment: Pembroke, St. John's, Queens',
King's, Caius, Benet's, and Peterhouse. The Gospel was preached at the
Augustine's, at Saint Mary's, (the University church,) and in other
places, and when the bells rang to prayers, the streets were alive
with students issuing from the colleges, and hastening to the
sermon.[581]
[581] Flocked together in open street. Strype, Mem. i, p. 568.
There was at Cambridge a house called the White Horse, so situated as
to permit the most timid members of King's, Queens', and St. John's
Colleges, to enter at the rear without being perceived. In every age
Nicodemus has had his followers. Here those persons used to assemble
who desired to read the Bible and the works of the German reformers.
The priests, looking upon Wittemberg as the focus of the Reformation,
named this house Germany: the people will always have their bywords.
At first the frequenters of the White Horse were called sophists; and
now, whenever a group of "fellows" was seen walking in that direction,
the cry was, "There are the Germans going to Germany."--"We are not
Germans," was the reply, "neither are we Romans." The Greek New
Testament had made them Christians. The Gospel-meetings had never been
more fervent. Some attended them to communicate the new life they
possessed; others to receive what God had given to the more advanced
brethren. The Holy Spirit united them all, and thus, by the fellowship
of the saints, were real churches created. To these young Christians
the word of God was the source of so much light, that they imagined
themselves transported to that heavenly city of which the Scriptures
speak, _which had no need of the sun, for the glory of God did lighten
it_. "So oft as I was in the company of these brethren," said a
youthful student of St. John's, "methought I was quietly placed in the
new glorious Jerusalem."[582]
[582] Becon, ii, p. 426.
[Sidenote: MEETINGS AT OXFORD.]
Similar things were taking place at Oxford. In 1524 and 1525, Wolsey
had successively invited thither several Cambridge fellows, and
although only seeking the most able, he found that he had taken some
of the most pious. Besides John Clark, there were Richard Cox, John
Fryer, Godfrey Harman, W. Betts, Henry Sumner, W. Baily, Michael
Drumm, Th. Lawney, and, lastly, the excellent John Fryth. These
Christians, associating with Clark, with his faithful Dalaber, and
with other evangelicals of Oxford, held meetings, like their Cambridge
brethren, at which God manifested his presence. The bishops made war
upon the Gospel; the king supported them with all his power; but the
word had gained the victory; there was no longer any doubt. The church
was born again in England.
The great movement of the sixteenth century had begun more
particularly among the younger doctors and students at Oxford and
Cambridge. From them it was necessary that it should be extended to
the people, and for that end the New Testament, hitherto read in Latin
and in Greek, must be circulated in English. The voices of these
youthful evangelists were heard, indeed, in London and in the
provinces; but their exhortations would have been insufficient, if the
mighty hand which directs all things had not made this Christian
activity coincide with that holy work for which it had set Tyndale
apart. While all was agitation in England, the waves of ocean were
bearing from the continent to the banks of the Thames those Scriptures
of God, which, three centuries later, multiplied by thousands and by
millions, and translated into a hundred and fifty tongues, were to be
wafted from the same banks to the ends of the world. If in the
fifteenth century, and even in the early days of the sixteenth, the
English New Testament had been brought to London, it would only have
fallen into the hands of a few Lollards. Now, in every place, in the
parsonages, the universities, and the palaces, as well as in the
cottages of the husbandmen and the shops of the tradesmen, there was
an ardent desire to possess the Holy Scriptures. The _fiat lux_ was
about to be uttered over the chaos of the church, and light to be
separated from darkness by the word of God.
BOOK XIX.
THE ENGLISH NEW TESTAMENT AND THE COURT OF ROME.
CHAPTER I.
Church and State essentially distinct--Their fundamental
Principles--What restores Life to the Church--Separation
from Rome necessary--Reform and Liberty--The New Testament
crosses the sea--Is hidden in London--Garret's Preaching and
Zeal--Dissemination of Scripture--What the People find in
it--The Effects it produces--Tyndale's Explanations--Roper,
More's Son-in-law--Garret carries Tyndale's Testament to
Oxford--Henry and his Valet--The Supplication of the
Beggars--Two Sorts of Beggars--Evils caused by
Priests--More's Supplications of the Souls in Purgatory.
The Church and the State are essentially distinct. They both receive
their task from God, but that task is different in each. The task of
the church is to lead men to God; the task of the State is to secure
the earthly development of a people in conformity with its peculiar
character. There are certain bounds, traced by the particular spirit
of each nation within which the state should confine itself; while the
church, whose limits are co-extensive with the human race, has a
universal character, which raises it above all national differences.
These two distinctive features should be maintained. A state which
aims at universality loses itself; a church whose mind and aim are
sectarian falls away. Nevertheless, the church and the state, the two
poles of social life, while they are in many respects opposed to one
another, are far from excluding each other absolutely. The church has
need of that justice, order, and liberty, which the state is bound to
maintain; but the state has especial need of the church. If Jesus can
do without kings to establish his kingdom, kings cannot do without
Jesus, if they would have their kingdoms prosper. Justice, which is
the fundamental principle of the state, is continually fettered in its
progress by the internal power of sin; and as force can do nothing
against this power, the state requires the Gospel in order to
overcome it. That country will always be the most prosperous where the
church is the most evangelical. These two communities having thus need
one of the other, we must be prepared, whenever a great religious
manifestation takes place in the world, to witness the appearance on
the scene not only of the little ones, but of the great ones also, of
the state. We must not then be surprised to meet with Henry VIII, but
let us endeavour to appreciate accurately the part he played.
[Sidenote: CHURCH AND STATE.]
If the Reformation, particularly in England, happened necessarily to
be mixed up with the state, with the world even, it originated neither
in the state nor in the world. There was much worldliness in the age
of Henry VIII, passions, violence, festivities, a trial, a divorce;
and some historians call that _the history of the Reformation in
England_. We shall not pass by in silence these manifestations of the
worldly life; opposed as they are to the Christian life, they are in
history, and it is not our business to tear them out. But most
assuredly they are not the Reformation. From a very different quarter
proceeded the divine light which then rose upon the human race.
To say that Henry VIII, was the reformer of his people is to betray
our ignorance of his. The kingly power in England by turns opposed and
favoured the reform in the church; but it opposed before it favoured,
and much more than it favoured. This great transformation was begun
and extended by its own strength, by the Spirit from on high.
When the church has lost the life that is peculiar to it, it must
again put itself in communication with its creative principle, that
is, with the word of God. Just as the buckets of a wheel employed in
irrigating the meadows have no sooner discharged their reviving
waters, than they dip again into the stream to be re-filled, so every
generation, void of the Spirit of Christ, must return to the divine
source to be again filled up. The primitive words which created the
church have been preserved for us in the Gospels, the Acts, and the
Epistles; and the humble reading of these divine writings will create
in every age the communion of saints. God was the father of the
Reformation, not Henry VIII. The visible world which then glittered
with such brightness; those princes and sports, those noblemen, and
trials and laws, far from effecting a reform, were calculated to
stifle it. But the light and the warmth came from heaven, and the new
creation was completed.
[Sidenote: SEPARATION FROM ROME NECESSARY.]
In the reign of Henry VIII a great number of citizens, priests, and
noblemen possessed that degree of cultivation which favours the
action of the holy books. It was sufficient for this divine seed to be
scattered on the well-prepared soil for the work of germination to be
accomplished.
A time not less important also was approaching--that in which the
action of the popedom was to come to an end. The hour had not yet
struck. God was first creating within by his word a spiritual church,
before he broke without by his dispensations the bonds which had so
long fastened England to the power of Rome. It was his good pleasure
first to give truth and life, and then liberty. It has been said that
if the pope had consented to a reform of abuses and doctrines, on
condition of his keeping his position, the religious revolution would
not have been satisfied at that price, and that after demanding
_reform_, the next demand would have been for _liberty_. The only
reproach that can be made to this assertion is, that it is
superabundantly true. Liberty was an integral part of the Reformation,
and one of the changes imperatively required was to withdraw religious
authority from the pope, and restore it to the word of God. In the
sixteenth century there was a great outpouring of the Christian life
in France, Italy, and Spain; it is attested by martyrs without number,
and history shows that to transform these three great nations, all
that the Gospel wanted was liberty.[583] "If we had set to work two
months later," said a grand inquisitor of Spain who had dyed himself
in the blood of the saints, "it would have been too late: Spain would
have been lost to the Roman church." We may therefore believe that if
Italy, France, and Spain had had some generous king to check the
myrmidons of the pope, those three countries, carried along by the
renovating power of the Gospel, would have entered upon an era of
liberty and faith.
[583] Geddes's Martyrology, Gonsalvi, Mart. Hisp. Llorente, Inquis.
M'Crie, Ref. in Spain.
The struggles of England with the popedom began shortly after the
dissemination of the English New Testament by Tyndale. The epoch at
which we are arrived accordingly brings in one view before our eyes
both the Testament of Jesus Christ and the court of Rome. We can thus
study the men (the reformers and the Romanists) and the works they
produce, and arrive at a just valuation of the two great principles
which dispute the possession of authority in the church.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF THE NEW TESTAMENTS.]
It was about the close of the year 1525; the English New Testament was
crossing the sea; five pious Hanseatic merchants had taken charge of
the books. Captivated by the Holy Scriptures they had taken them on
board their ships, hidden them among their merchandise; and then made
sail from Antwerp for London.
Thus those precious pages were approaching England, which were to
become its light and the source of its greatness. The merchants, whose
zeal unhappily cost them dear, were not without alarm. Had not
Cochlæus caused orders to be sent to every port to prevent the
entrance of the precious cargo they were bringing to England? They
arrived and cast anchor; they lowered the boat to reach the shore;
what were they likely to meet there? Tonstall's agents, no doubt, and
Wolsey's, and Henry's ready to take away their New Testaments! They
landed and soon again returned to the ship; boats passed to and fro,
and the vessel was unloaded. No enemy appeared; and no one seemed to
imagine that these ships contained so great a treasure.
Just at the time this invaluable cargo was ascending the river, an
invisible hand had dispersed the preventive guard. Tonstall, bishop of
London, had been sent to Spain; Wolsey was occupied in political
combinations with Scotland, France, and the empire; Henry VIII, driven
from his capital by an unhealthy winter, was passing the Christmas
holidays at Eltham; and even the courts of justice, alarmed by an
extraordinary mortality, had suspended their sittings. God, if we may
so speak, had sent his angel to remove the guards.
Seeing nothing that could stop them, the five merchants, whose
establishment was at the Steel yard in Thames Street, hastened to
conceal their precious charge in their warehouses. But who will
receive them? Who will undertake to distribute these Holy Scriptures
in London, Oxford, Cambridge, and all England? It is a little matter
that they have crossed the sea. The principal instrument God was about
to use for their dissemination was an humble servant of Christ.
[Sidenote: THOMAS GARRET.]
In Honey Lane, a narrow thoroughfare adjoining Cheapside, stood the
old church of All Hallows, of which Robert Forman was rector. His
curate was a plain man of lively imagination, delicate conscience, and
timid disposition, but rendered bold by his faith, to which he was to
become a martyr. Thomas Garret, for that was his name, having believed
in the Gospel, earnestly called his hearers to repentance;[584] he
urged upon them that works, however good they might be in appearance,
were by no means capable of justifying the sinner, and that faith
alone could save him.[585] He maintained that every man had the right
to preach the word of God;[586] and called those bishops pharisees,
who persecuted christian men. Garret's discourses, at once so
quickening and so gentle, attracted great crowds; and to many of his
hearers, the street in which he preached was rightly named Honey Lane,
for there they found the _honey out of the rock_.[587] But Garret was
about to commit a fault still more heinous in the eyes of the priests
than preaching faith. The Hanse merchants were seeking some sure place
where they might store up the New Testaments and other books sent from
Germany; the curate offered his house, stealthily transported the holy
deposit thither, hid them in the most secret corners, and kept a
faithful watch over this sacred library.[588] He did not confine
himself to this. Night and day he studied the holy books; he held
Gospel meetings, read the word and explained its doctrines to the
citizens of London. At last, not satisfied with being at once student,
librarian, and preacher, he became a trader, and sold the New
Testament to laymen, and even to priests and monks, so that the Holy
Scriptures were dispersed over the whole realm.[589] This humble and
timid priest was then performing alone the biblical work of England.
[584] Earnestly laboured to call us to repentance. Becon, iii. p. 11.
[585] Quod opera nostra quantumvis bona in specie nihil conducunt ad
justificationem nec ad meritum, sed sola fides. (Foxe, Acts, v. p.
428.) Because our work, however good in appearance are of no avail to
justification or to merit, but faith alone can save.
[586] Every man may preach the word of God. Ibid.
[587] Psalm lxxxi. 16.
[588] Having the said books in his custody. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 428.
[589] Dispersing abroad of the said books within this realm. Ibid. p.
428. See also Strype. _Cranmer's Mem._ p. 81.
[Sidenote: WHAT MEN FOUND IN THE SCRIPTURES.]