enthusiasm, unbalanced by reason, carried them beyond restraint. If
Luther had found it no easy task to break the chains which for so
many ages had kept in check the spirit of free inquiry, he discovered
that it was impossible to control that spirit once let loose; and the
wild excesses of Anabaptism were at once the exaggeration and the
opprobrium of Lutheranism. Originally earnest and self-denying, the
primitive Anabaptists had captivated the fiery soul of Carlostadt,
while Luther was in his Patmos of Wartburg, but the pure asceticism
of Storck and Muncer gradually grew irksome to the followers who
flocked to their standard, and, if we may believe contemporary writers,
the unchaining of human passions in that lawless horde resulted in
the _igneum baptisma_, or fiery baptism, by which at Munster John
Mathison encouraged the most hideous licentiousness in the elect, to be
followed up by his successor, John of Leyden, who, in imitation of the
patriarchs, promulgated the law of polygamy.[1105]
Luther, however, was quite as resolute in setting limits to his
movement as Rome had been in forbidding all progress, and the
Anabaptists were to him enemies as detestable as Catholics. The
Protestant princes, moreover, had too much worldly wisdom to
imperil their dangerous career by any alliance with fanatics
whose extravagances provoked abhorrence so general. The cause of
the Reformation, therefore, although it suffered no little from
so portentous an illustration of the dangers resulting from the
destruction of the ancient barriers, escaped all contamination in
itself, and its leaders pursued their course undeviatingly.
* * * * *
Meanwhile the League of Schmalkalden accomplished its purpose.
Henry VIII. and Francis I. were eager to seize the opportunity of
encouraging dissension in the empire. The Turk became more menacing
than ever. Charles, always ready to yield for a time when opposition
was impolitic, gracefully abandoned the position assumed at Augsburg;
and the negotiations of Schweinfurth and Nürnberg resulted in the
decree of the Diet of Ratisbon in 1532, by which, until the assembling
of the future council, all religious disturbances were prohibited,
and the imperial chamber was commanded to undertake no prosecutions
on account of heresy. Toleration was thus practically established for
the moment, but the abbots and monks who had been ejected, and who
had been anticipating their restoration, became naturally restive.
Charles cunningly sent from Italy full powers to the chamber to decide
as to what causes arose from religious disputes, and what were simply
civil or criminal. Thus intrusted with the interpretation of the
Ratisbon decree, the chamber assumed that claims on church lands were
not included in the forbidden class, while old edicts prohibiting the
observances of Lutheranism brought all religious questions within the
scope of criminal law. The promised toleration was thus practically
denied, but, fortunately for the Protestants, Ferdinand was anxiously
negotiating for their recognition of his dignity as king of the Romans,
and by the Transaction of Cadam in 1533 he purchased the coveted homage
by accepting their construction of the edict of Ratisbon.
Still the Protestants complained of persecution and the Catholics of
proselytism. The ensuing fifteen years were filled with a series of
bootless negotiations, pretended settlements, quarrels, recriminations,
and mutual encroachments which year after year occupied the successive
Diets, and kept Germany constantly trembling on the verge of a
desolating civil war. It would be useless to disturb the dust that
covers these forgotten transactions, which can teach us nothing save
that the Protestants still refused to recognize that the schism was
past human power to heal; that Rome, recovering from her temporary
hesitation, would not abate one jot of her pretensions to save her
supremacy over half of Christendom;[1106] and that Charles, as a wily
politician, was always ready in adversity to abandon with a good grace
that which he had arrogantly seized in prosperity.[1107] How eager,
indeed, were the Protestants to effect some compromise which should
relieve them from their exceptional position is strikingly manifest in
the Articles which Melanchthon and his friends, in 1535, submitted to
Francis I., after the Sorbonne had refused to enter into a disputation
or conference with them. In this document all non-essentials were
abandoned; doctrinal dissidences were skilfully evaded, and stress only
was laid upon such regulations as should remove the external corruption
of the church. Melanchthon proposed that the monastic orders should be
continued, but that the vows should not be perpetual, so that religion
might not be disgraced by the excesses of those who had mistaken their
vocation. So, as regards priestly celibacy, he proposed that, as human
nature rendered it impossible to supply the multitude of parishes with
men able to live in continence, those who could not preserve their
purity should be allowed to marry; while, to prevent the dilapidation
of church property, the higher positions should be reserved to men of
mature age, who could lead a single life.[1108] The Sorbonne, in reply,
condescended to no argument, but contented itself with asserting that
the Protestants desired the subversion of all religion, while, on the
other hand, Melanchthon had the satisfaction of being proclaimed a
traitor by the Germans.
In all this the only point which possesses special interest for us is
another authoritative attempt at reconciling the irreconcilable which
occurred in 1541. After a conference between Melanchthon and Dr. Eck at
Worms, Charles himself presented to the Diet of Ratisbon a statement
of the questions in dispute, with propositions for mutual concession
and compromise. In the course of this, he reviewed the practice of the
church in various ages with regard to sacerdotal celibacy, admitting
that the enforcement of it was not in accordance with the ancient
canons, and indicating a willingness to see it abrogated.[1109] The
Protestants, who were ready to make many sacrifices for peace, hailed
this intimation with triumph, stoutly insisting on the repeal of the
obnoxious rule, which they stigmatized as unjust and pernicious.[1110]
So nearly did the parties at length approach each other, that there
appeared every reason to anticipate a successful result to the effort,
when Paul III. again interfered and pronounced all the proceedings
null and void, as the church alone had power to regulate its internal
affairs. The expectations excited by these negotiations naturally
stimulated the desire of the people for a change in the discipline of
the church, and the next year we find Paul III. obliged to exhort the
Bishop of Merseburg to resist the clamors of his subjects, who demanded
the abrogation of priestly celibacy and the use of the cup for the
laity, under threats of ejecting him. The pope evidently considered the
Germans unduly impatient, since they objected to await the assembling
of the Council of Trent, which was called to decide upon these
matters.[1111]
* * * * *
Charles had long recognized that the perpetual menace of a powerful
confederation such as the Schmalkaldic League, entertaining constant
relations with the external enemies of the empire, was incompatible
with the peace of Germany and with an imperial power such as he was
resolved to wield. The time at last came for the development of his
plans. The skill of Alva and the treachery of Maurice of Saxony were
crowned with success. The battle of Muhlberg broke the power of the
Protestants utterly, and laid them helpless at the feet of their
bitterest foes. Yet the progress of the new ideas had already placed
them beyond the control of even the triumphant Charles, though he had
the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse in his dungeons. When,
at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1548, he proposed the curious arrangement
known as the _Interim_, by which he hoped to keep matters quiet until
the final verdict of that œcumenic council which constantly vanished
in the distance, he felt it necessary to permit all married priests to
retain their wives until the question should be decided by the future
council. A faint expression of a preference for celibacy, moreover, was
significant both in what it said and what it left unsaid.[1112]
The Interim, of course, satisfied neither party. The Catholics regarded
it as an unauthorized reformation, the Protestants as disguised popery.
Charles, however, in the plenitude of his power, obliged many of the
Lutheran states to accept it; while, as regards the Catholics, he was
perhaps not sorry to show the pope that he, too, like Henry VIII.,
could regulate the consciences of his subjects, and prescribe their
religious faith. He had broken with Paul III.; the council of Trent,
against his wishes, had been removed to Bologna on a frivolous pretext;
and a schism like that of England was apparently impending. At the
least, Charles might not unreasonably desire to manifest that at last
he was independent of that papal power with which mutual necessities
had so long enforced the closest relations, and to prove that deference
to his wishes was henceforth to be the price of his all-important
support. He demanded that legates should be sent to Germany armed with
extraordinary powers, among which was included authority to grant
dispensations to married priests. Paul III. referred the request to the
Sacred College and to the council then sitting at Bologna, and it was
unanimously replied that it should be granted, with the limitations
that monks should not be included, and that priests thus permitted
to retain their wives should not exercise their functions or enjoy
the fruits of their benefices.[1113] That Paul forthwith dispatched
three nuncios entrusted with authority to do this shows not only
the disposition which then existed to relax the rigor of the canons
respecting celibacy, but also the importance which the question had
assumed in the religious disputes of the time,[1114] though an absolute
refusal was soon afterwards returned to the request of a German prince
(supposed to be the Duke of Bavaria) requesting for his subjects the
use of the cup, priestly marriage, and the relaxation of the obligation
of fasting.[1115]
Temporary expedients and compromises such as these are interesting
merely as they mark the progress of opinion. Paltry makeshifts to
elude the decision of that which had to be decided, they exercised
little real influence on the history of the time. It is true that
when Charles, in 1551, at the Diet of Augsburg, issued a call for the
reassembling of the council of Trent, he confirmed the Interim until
that council should decide all unsettled questions,[1116] yet this
confirmation was destined to be effective for a period ludicrously
brief. A fresh treason of Maurice of Saxony undid all that his former
plotting had accomplished; and, while Henry II. was winning at the
expense of the empire the delusive title of Conqueror, Charles found
himself reduced to the hard necessity of restoring all that his crooked
policy had for so many years been devoted to extorting. The Transaction
of Passau, signed August 2d, 1552, gave full liberty of conscience to
the Lutheran states, until a national council or Diet should devise
means of restoring the unity of the church; and in case such means
could not be agreed upon, then the rights guaranteed by the Transaction
were granted in perpetuity.[1117] If Charles was disposed to withdraw
the concessions thus exacted of him, the miserable siege of Metz and
the increasing desire for abdication prevented him from attempting
it; and, at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1555, the states and cities of
the Augsburg Confession were confirmed in their right to enjoy the
practices of their religion in peace.[1118]
The long struggle thus was over. The public law of Germany at last
recognized the legality of the transactions based upon the Reformation,
and not the least in importance among those transactions were the
marriages of the ministers of Christ.
XXVI.
THE ANGLICAN CHURCH.
The abrogation of celibacy in England was a process of far more
perplexity and intricacy than in any other country which adopted the
Reformation. Perhaps this may be partially explained by the temperament
of the race, whose fierce spirit of independence made them quick to
feel and impatient to suffer the manifold evils of the sacerdotal
system, while their reverential conservatism rendered them less
disposed to adopt a radical cure than their Continental neighbors.
In no country of Europe had the pretensions of the papal power been so
resolutely set aside. In no country had ecclesiastical abuses been more
earnestly attacked or more persistently held up for popular odium, and
the applause which greeted all who boldly denounced the shortcomings
of priest and prelate shows how keenly the people felt the evils to
which they were exposed. William Langlande, the monk of Malvern, was no
heretic, yet he was unsparing in his reprobation of the corruptions of
the church:—
“Right so out of holi chirche,
Alle yveles springeth,
There inparfit preesthode is,
Prechours and techeris
.. .. .
And prechours after silver,
Executours and sodenes,
Somonours and hir lemmannes;
That that with gile was geten,
Ungraciousliche is despended;
So harlotes and hores
Arn holpe with swiche goodes,
And Goddes folk, for defaute thereof,
For-faren and spillen.”[1119]
And he boldly prophesied the violent downfall of the whole fabric—
“Right so, ye clerkes,
For youre coveitise, er longe,
Shal thei demen _dos ecclesiæ_,
And youre pride depose.
_Deposuit potentes de sede_, etc.
.. .. .
Leveth it wel ye bisshopes
The lordshipe of your londes
For evere shul ye lese,
And lyven as _levitici_, etc.”[1120]
But while the people greeted these assaults with the keenest pleasure,
they were attached to the old observances, and were in no haste to see
the predictions of the poet fulfilled. A little sharp persecution was
sufficient to suppress all outward show of Lollardry, and there was
no chance in England for the fierce revolutionary enthusiasm of the
Taborites.
As the sixteenth century opened, John Colet did good work in
disturbing the stagnation of the schools by his contempt for the
petrified theological science of the schoolmen. His endeavor to
revert to the Scriptures as the sole source of religious belief was a
step in advance, while he was unsparing in his denunciations of the
corruptions which were as rife in the English church as we have seen
them elsewhere. Yet Colet, though at one time taxed with heretical
leanings, kept carefully within the pale of orthodoxy, and seems never
to have entertained the idea that the evils which he deplored were to
be attacked save by a renewal of the fruitless iteration of obsolete
canons.[1121] Perhaps, however, his friend and disciple, Sir Thomas
More, is the best example of this frame of mind in England’s worthiest
men, the besetting weakness of which made the Anglican reformation a
struggle whose vicissitudes can scarce be said to have even yet reached
their final development.
Before Luther had raised the standard of revolt, More keenly
appreciated the derelictions of the church, and allowed his wit to
satirize its vices with a freedom which showed the scantiest respect
for the sanctity claimed by its hierarchy.[1122] Yet when Luther came
with his heresies to sweep away all abuses, More’s gentle and tender
spirit was roused to a vulgarity of vituperation which earned for him
a distinguished place among the foul-mouthed polemics of the time, and
which is absolutely unfit for translation.[1123] As regards ascetic
observances, before the Lutheran movement, More seems to have inclined
towards condemning all practices that were not in accordance with human
nature, though he appears willing to admit that there may be some
special sanctity, though not wisdom, in conquering nature.[1124] After
the commencement of the Reformation, however, his views underwent a
reaction, and he not only defended monastic vows, but he even went so
far as to argue that by the recent marriages of the Saxon reformers God
had manifested his signal displeasure, for in the old law true priests
could be joined only to the chastest virgins, while God permitted these
false pastors to take to wife none but public strumpets.[1125] If he
accused Luther of sweeping away the venerable traditions of man and of
God,[1126] he showed how conscientious was this rigid conservatism when
he laid his head upon the block in testimony for the principal creation
and bulwark of tradition—the papal supremacy.
A community thus halting between an acute perception of existing
evils and a resolute determination not to remove them was exactly in
the temper to render the great movement of the sixteenth century
as disastrous to themselves as possible. How to meet the inevitable
under such conditions was a problem which well might tax the acutest
intellect, and Wolsey, whose fate it was to undertake the task, seems
to have been inspired with more than his customary audacious ingenuity
in seeking the solution.
Wolsey himself was no ascetic, as the popular inscription over the
door of his palace—“Domus meretricium Domini Cardinalis”—sufficiently
attests. A visitation of the religious houses undertaken in 1511
by Archbishop Warham had revealed all the old iniquities without
calling forth any remedy beyond an admonition.[1127] In 1518, Wolsey
himself had attempted a systematic reformation in his diocese of York,
and had revived the ancient canons punishing concubinage among his
priesthood;[1128] and in 1519 we find him applying to Leo X. for a Bull
conferring special power to correct the enormities of the clergy.[1129]
When, in 1523, he proposed a general visitation for the reformation
of the ecclesiastical body, Fox, Bishop of Winchester, urged it as in
the highest degree necessary, stating that he himself had for three
years been devoting all his energies to restore discipline in his
diocese, and that his efforts had been so utterly fruitless that he
had abandoned all hope of any change for the better.[1130] Cranmer,
indeed, in his “Confutation of Unwritten Verities,” had no hesitation
to say that “within my memory, which is above thirty years, and also
by the information of others that be twenty years elder than I, I
could never perceive or learn that any one priest, under the pope’s
kingdom, was ever punished for advoutry by his ordinary.”[1131] It
may readily be believed, therefore, that Wolsey fully recognized the
utter inefficiency of the worn-out weapons of discipline. Yet he was
too shrewd a statesman not to foresee that reformation from within or
from without must come, and, in taking the initiative, he commenced by
quietly and indirectly attacking the monastic orders. As a munificent
patron of letters, it was natural that he should emulate Merton and
Wykeham in founding a college at Oxford; and “Cardinal’s College,” now
Christ Church, became the lever with which to topple over the vast
monastic system of England.
The development of the plan was characteristically insidious. By a
Bull of April 3d, 1524 (confirmed by Henry, May 10th), Clement VII.
authorized him to suppress the priory of St. Frediswood at Oxford,
and to remove the monks for the purpose of converting it into a
“Collegium Clericorum Seculorum.”[1132] This was followed by a Bull,
dated August 21st of the same year, empowering him as legate to make
inquisition and reformation in all religious houses throughout the
kingdom, to incarcerate and punish the inmates, and to deprive them
of their property and privileges, all grants or charters to the
contrary notwithstanding.[1133] The real purport of this extraordinary
commission is shown by the speedy issue of yet another Bull, dated
September 11th, conceding to him the confiscation of monasteries to the
amount of 3000 ducats annual rental, for the endowment of his college,
and alleging as a reason for the measure that many establishments had
not more than five or six inmates.[1134]
The affair was now fully in train, and proceeded with accelerating
momentum. On the 3d of July, 1525, Henry confirmed the incorporation of
the college; his letters-patent of May 1st, 1526, enumerate eighteen
monasteries suppressed for its benefit, while other letters of May
10th grant seventy-one churches or rectories for its support, and yet
other grants are alluded to as made in letters which have not been
preserved.[1135] In 1528 these were followed by various other donations
of religious houses and manors; and during the same year Wolsey founded
another Cardinal’s College at Ipswich, which became a fresh source of
absorption.[1136]
Had Henry VIII. entertained any preconceived design of suppressing the
religious houses, his impatient temper would scarcely have allowed
him to remain so long a witness of this spoliation without taking his
share and carrying the matter out with his accustomed boldness and
disregard of consequences. At length, however, he claimed his portion,
and procured from Clement a Bull dated November 2d, 1528, conceding to
him, for the benefit of the old foundations of the King’s Colleges at
Cambridge and Windsor, the suppression of monasteries to the annual
value of 8000 ducats.[1137] This was followed by another, a few days
later, empowering Wolsey and Campeggi, co-legates in the affair of
Queen Katharine’s divorce, to unite to other monasteries all those
containing less than twelve inmates—thus suppressing the latter,
of which the number was very large.[1138] Another Bull of the same
date (November 12th) attacked the larger abbeys, which had thus far
escaped. It ordered the two cardinals, under request from the king,
to inquire into the propriety of suppressing the rich monasteries
enjoying over 10,000 ducats per annum, for the purpose of converting
them into bishoprics, on the plea that the seventeen sees of the
kingdom were insufficient for the spiritual wants of the people.[1139]
The report of the cardinals apparently seconded the views of Henry,
for Clement granted to them, May 29th, 1529, the power of creating and
arranging bishoprics at their discretion, and of sacrificing additional
monasteries when necessary to provide adequate revenues.[1140] It
is probable that the monks who had been unceremoniously deprived of
their possessions did not in all cases submit without resistance, for
the Bull of November 12th, 1528, suppressing the smaller houses, was
repeated August 31st, 1529, with the suggestive addition of authority
to call in the assistance of the secular arm.[1141]
Wolsey was now tottering to his fall. Process against him was commenced
on October 9th, 1529, and on the 18th the Great Seal was delivered to
More. His power, however, had lasted long enough to break down all the
safeguards which had for so many centuries grown around the sacred
precincts of ecclesiastical property; and the rich foundations which
covered so large a portion of English territory lay defenceless before
the cupidity of a despot, who rarely allowed any consideration, human
or divine, to interfere with his wishes, whose extravagance rendered
him eager to find new sources of supply for an exhausted treasury,
and whose temper had been aroused by the active support lent by the
preaching friars to the party of Queen Katharine in the affair of the
divorce. Yet it is creditable to Henry’s self-command that the blow did
not fall sooner, although it came at last.
It is not my province to enter into the details of Henry’s miserable
quarrel with Rome, which, except in its results, is, from every
point of view, one of the most humiliating pages of history. The
year 1532 saw the proclamation of the king commanding the support
of his subjects in the impending rupture, and the subscription of
the clergy to a paper which, with unparalleled servility, placed the
whole ecclesiastical constitution of the kingdom in his absolute
power.[1142] The following year his long-protracted divorce from
Katharine of Arragon was consummated; the annates were withdrawn from
the pope, and Henry assumed the title of Supreme Head of the Church of
England.[1143] In 1535 an obedient Parliament confirmed the acts of
the sovereign, and forbade the promulgation of any canons by synods or
convocations without his approval. The power of the pope was abolished
by proclamation; and Universities and prelates rivalled each other in
obsequiously transferring to Henry the reverence due to Rome.[1144]