TEACHING AND PREACHING
It is very commonly assumed that on the eve of the Reformation, and for
a long period before, there was little in the way of popular religious
instruction in England. We are asked to believe that the mass of the
people were allowed to grow up in ignorance of the meaning of the faith
that was in them, and in a studied neglect of their supposed religious
practices. So certain has this view of the pre-Reformation Church
seemed to those who have not inquired very deeply into the subject,
that more than one writer has been led by this assumption to assert
that perhaps the most obvious benefit of the religious upheaval of the
sixteenth century was the introduction of some general and systematic
teaching of the great truths of religion. Preaching is often considered
as characterising the reforming movement, as contrasted with the old
ecclesiastical system, which it is assumed certainly admitted, even if
it did not positively encourage, ignorance as the surest foundation
of its authority. It becomes of importance, therefore, to inquire if
such a charge is founded upon fact, and to see how far, if at all, the
people in Catholic England were instructed in their religion.
At the outset, it should be remembered that the questions at issue in
the sixteenth century were not, in the first place at least, connected
with the influence of religious teaching on the lives of the people at
large. No one contended that the reformed doctrines would be found to
make people better, or would help them to lead lives more in conformity
with Gospel teaching. The question of what may be called practical
religion never entered into the disputes of the time. Mr. Brewer warns
the student of the history of this period that he will miss the meaning
of many things altogether, and quite misunderstand their drift, if he
starts his inquiry by regarding the Reformation as the creation of
light to illuminate a previous period of darkness, or the evolution of
practical morality out of a state of antecedent chaotic corruption.
“In fact,” he says, “the sixteenth century was not a mass of moral
corruption out of which life emerged by some process unknown to art
or nature; it was not an addled egg cradling a living bird; quite the
reverse.” For, as the historian of the German people, Janssen, points
out, the truth is that the entire social order of the Middle Ages “was
established on the doctrine of good works being necessary for the
salvation of the Christian soul.” Whilst, as Mr. Brewer again notes,
Luther’s most earnest remonstrances were directed not against _bad_
works, but against the undue stress laid by the advocates of the old
religion upon _good_ works. Moreover, an age which could busy itself
about discussions of questions as to “righteousness,” whether of “faith
or works,” “is not a demoralised or degenerate age. These are not the
thoughts of men buried in sensuality.”
Two questions are contained in the inquiry as to pre-Reformation
religious teaching, namely, as to its extent and as to its character.
There can hardly be much doubt that the duty of giving instruction to
the people committed to their charge was fully recognised by the clergy
in mediæval times. In view of the positive legislation of various
synods on the subject of regular and systematic teaching, as well as of
the constant repetition of the obligation in the books of English canon
law, it is obvious that the priests were not ignorant of what was their
plain duty. From the time of the constitution of Archbishop Peckham
at the Synod of Oxford in 1281, to the time of the religious changes,
there is every reason to suppose that the ordinance contained in the
following words was observed in every parish church in the country: “We
order,” says the Constitution, “that every priest having the charge of
a flock do, four times in each year (that is, once each quarter) on one
or more solemn feast days, either himself or by some one else, instruct
the people in the vulgar language simply and without any fantastical
admixture of subtle distinctions, in the articles of the Creed, the Ten
Commandments, the Evangelical Precepts, the seven works of mercy, the
seven deadly sins with their offshoots, the seven principal virtues,
and the seven Sacraments.”
This means that the whole range of Christian teaching, dogmatic and
moral, was to be explained to the people four times in every year; and
in order that there should be no doubt about the matter, the Synod
proceeds to set out in considerable detail each of the points upon
which the priest was to instruct his people. During the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries the great number of manuals intended to help the
clergy in the execution of this law attest the fact that it was fully
recognised and very generally complied with. When at the close of
the latter century, the invention of printing made the multiplication
of such manuals easy, the existence both of printed copies of this
Constitution of Archbishop Peckham, and of printed tracts drawn up
to give every assistance to the parochial clergy in the preparation
of these homely teachings, proves that the law was understood and
acted upon. In the face of such evidence it is impossible to doubt
that, whatever may have been the case as to set sermons and formal
discourses, simple, straightforward teaching was not neglected in
pre-Reformation England, and every care was taken that the clergy might
be furnished with material suitable for the fundamental religious
teaching contemplated by the law. As late as 1466, a synod of the York
Province, held by Archbishop Nevill, not only reiterated this general
decree about regular quarterly instructions of a simple and practical
kind, but set out at great length the points of these lessons in the
Christian faith and life upon which the parish priests were to insist.
Even set discourses of a more formal kind, though probably by no
means so frequent as in these times, when they have to a great extent
superseded the simple instructions of old Catholic days, were by no
means neglected. Volumes of such sermons in manuscript and in print,
as well as all that is known of the great discourses constantly being
delivered at St. Paul’s Cross, may be taken as sufficient evidence of
this. For the conveyance of moral and religious instruction, however,
the regular and homely talks of a parish priest to his people were
vastly more important than the set orations, and it is with these
familiar instructions that the student of this period of our history
has chiefly to concern himself. All the available evidence goes to
show that the giving of these was not only regarded as an obligation
on the pastor; but attendance at them was looked upon as a usual
and necessary portion of the Christian duty. For example, in the
examinations of conscience intended to assist lay people in their
preparation for the Sacrament of penance, there are indications that
any neglect to attend at these parochial instructions was considered
sufficiently serious to become a matter of confession. It is, of
course, hardly conceivable that this should be so, if the giving of
these popular lessons in the duties of the Christian life was neglected
by the priests, or if they were not commonly frequented by the laity.
To take a few instances. “Also,” runs one such examination, “I have
been slow in God’s service, and negligent to pray and to go to church
in due time … loth to hear the Word of God, and the preacher of
the Word of God. Neither have I imprinted it in my heart and borne
it away and wrought thereafter.”[284] Again: “I have been setting
nought by preaching and teaching of God’s Word, by thinking it an
idle thing.”[285] And, to take an example of the view taken in such
documents as to the priest’s duty: “If you are a priest be a true
lantern to the people both in speaking and in living, and faithfully
and truly do all things which pertain to a priest. Seek wisely the
ground of truth and the true office of the priesthood, and be not
ruled blindly by the lewd customs of the world. Read God’s law and
the Expositions of the Holy Doctors, and study and learn and keep
it, and when thou knowest it, preach and teach it to those that are
unlearned.”[286]
Richard Whitford, the Monk of Sion, in his _Work for Householders_,
published first in 1530, lays great stress upon the obligation of
parents and masters to see that those under their charge attended the
instructions given in the parish church. Some may perhaps regard his
greater anxiety for their presence at sermons rather than at Mass,
when it was not possible for them to be at both, as doubtful advice.
In this, however, he agrees with the author of what was the most
popular book of instructions at this period, and the advice itself
is proof that the obligation of attending instructions was regarded
as sufficiently serious to be contrasted with that of hearing Mass.
Speaking of the Sunday duties, Whitford says: “At church on Sundays see
after those who are under your care. And charge them also to keep their
sight in the church close upon their book and beads. And whilst they
are young accustom them always to kneel, stand, and sit, and never walk
in the church. And let them hear the Mass quietly and devoutly, much
part kneeling. But at the Gospel, the Preface, and at the Paternoster
teach them to stand and to make curtesy at the word Jesus, as the
priest does.… If there be a sermon any time of the day let them be
present, all that are not occupied in needful and lawful business;
all other (occupations) laid aside let them ever keep the preachings,
rather than the Mass, if, perchance, they may not hear both.”
Nothing could possibly be more definite or explicit upon the necessity
of popular instructions and upon the duty incumbent upon the clergy of
giving proper vernacular teaching to their flocks than the author of
_Dives et Pauper_, the most popular of the fifteenth-century books of
religious instruction. In fact, on this point his language is as strong
and uncompromising as that which writers have too long been accustomed
to associate with the name of Wycliffe. No more unwarranted assumption
has ever been made in the name of history than that which classed
under the head of Lollard productions almost every fifteenth-century
tract in English, especially such as dealt openly with abuses needing
correction, and pleaded for simple vernacular teaching of religion.
This is what the author of _Dives et Pauper_ says about preaching:
“Since God’s word is life and salvation of man’s soul, all those who
hinder them that have authority of God, and by Orders taken, to preach
and teach, from preaching and teaching God’s word and God’s law, are
manslayers ghostly. They are guilty of as many souls that perish by
the hindering of God’s word, and namely those proud, covetous priests
and curates who can neither teach, nor will teach, nor suffer others
that both can and will and have authority to teach and preach of God
and of the bishop who gave them Orders, but prevent them for fear
lest they should get less from their subjects, or else the less be
thought of, or else that their sins should be known by the preaching
of God’s word. Therefore, they prefer to leave their own sins openly
reproved generally, among other men’s sins. As St. Anselm saith, God’s
word ought to be worshipped as much as Christ’s body, and he sins as
much who hindereth God’s word and despiseth God’s word, or taketh it
recklessly as he that despiseth God’s body, or through his negligence
letteth it fall to the ground. On this place the gloss showeth that it
is more profitable to hear God’s word in preaching than to hear a Mass,
and that a man should rather forbear his Mass than his sermon. For,
by preaching, folks are stirred to contrition, and to forsake sin and
the fiend, and to love God and goodness, and (by it) they be illumined
to know their God, and virtue from vice, truth from falsehood, and
to forsake errors and heresies. By the Mass they are not so, but if
they come to Mass in sin they go away in sin, and shrews they come and
shrews they wend away.… Nevertheless, the Mass profiteth them that are
in grace to get grace and forgiveness of sin.… Both are good, but the
preaching of God’s word ought to be more discharged and more desired
than the hearing of Mass.”[287]
In the same way the author of a little book named _The Interpretatyon
and Sygnyfycacyon of the Masse_, printed by Robert Wyer in 1532,
insists on the obligation of attending the Sunday instruction. “On each
Sunday,” he says, “he shall also hear a sermon, if it be possible, for
if a man did lose or omit it through contempt or custom, he would sin
greatly.”[288] And in _The Myrrour of the Church_, the author tells
those who desire “to see the Will of God in Holy Scripture,” but being
of “simple learning” and “no cunning” cannot read, that they may do so
“in open sermon, or in secret collation” with those who can. And in
speaking of the Sunday duties he tells his readers not to lie in bed,
“but rising promptly you shall go to the church, and with devotion say
your matins without jangling. Also sweetly hear your Mass and all the
hours of the day. And then if there is any preacher in the church who
proposes to make a sermon, you shall sweetly hear the Word of God and
keep it in remembrance.”[289] And lastly, to take one more example, in
Wynkyn de Worde’s _Exornatorium Curatorum_, printed to enable those
having the cure of souls to perform the duties of instruction laid down
by Archbishop Peckham’s Provincial Constitution, whilst setting forth
a form of examination of conscience under the head of the deadly sins,
the author bids the curate teach his people to ask themselves: “Whether
you have been slothful in God’s service, and specially upon the Sunday
and the holy day whether you have been slothful to come to church,
slothful to pray when you have been there, and slothful to hear the
Word of God preached. Furthermore, whether you have been negligent to
learn your _Pater Noster_, your _Ave Maria_, or your Creed, or whether
you have been negligent to teach the same to your own children or to
your god-children. Examine yourself also whether you have taught your
children good manners, and guarded them from danger and bad company.”
The same book insists on the need of such examination of conscience
daily, or at least weekly.[290]
The following in this connection is of interest as being a daily rule
of life recommended to laymen in the English Prymer printed at Rouen
in 1538: “First rise up at six o’clock in the morning at all seasons,
and in rising do as follows: Thank our Lord who has brought you to the
beginning of the day. Commend yourself to God, to Our Lady Saint Mary,
and to the saint whose feast is kept that day, and to all the saints in
heaven. When you have arrayed yourself say in your chamber or lodging,
Matins, Prime, and Hours, if you may. Then go to the church before you
do any worldly works if you have no needful business, and abide in the
church the space of a low mass time, where you shall think on God and
thank Him for His benefits. Think awhile on the goodness of God, on His
divine might and virtue.… If you cannot be so long in the church on
account of necessary business, take some time in the day in your house
in which to think of these things.”… Take your meal “reasonably without
excess or overmuch forbearing of your meat, for there is as much danger
in too little as in too much. If you fast once in a week it is enough,
besides Vigils and Ember days out of Lent.” After dinner rest “an hour
or half-an-hour, praying God that in that rest He will accept your
health to the end, that after it you may serve Him the more devoutly.”
“… As touching your service, say up to _Tierce_ before dinner, and make
an end of all before supper. And when you are able say the _Dirge_ and
_Commendations_ for all Christian souls, at least on holy days, and if
you have leisure say them on other days, at least with three lessons.
Shrive yourself every week to your curate, except you have some great
hindrance. And beware that you do not pass a fortnight unless you have
a very great hindrance. If you have the means refuse not your alms to
the first poor body that asketh it of you that day. Take care to hear
and keep the Word of God. Confess you every day to God without fail of
such sins you know you have done that day.” Think often of our Lord’s
Passion, and at night when you wake turn your thoughts to what our Lord
was doing at that hour in His Passion. In your life look for a faithful
friend to whom you may open “your secrets,” and when found follow
his advice. No doubt this “manner to live well” will perhaps hardly
represent what people at this time ordinarily did. But the mere fact
that it could be printed as a Christian’s daily rule of life as late as
1538, is evidence at any rate that people took at the least as serious
a view of their obligations in religious matters as we should.[291] In
the same way _The art of good lyvyng_, quoted above, suggests as the
proper way to sanctify the Sunday: Meditations on death, the pains of
hell, and the joys of Paradise. Time should be given to reading the
lives of the saints, to saying Matins, and studying the Paternoster and
the Creed. Others should be exhorted to enter into God’s service, and
fathers of families are bound to see that “their children, servants,
and families go to church and hear the preachings.”[292]
By far the most interesting and important part of any inquiry on the
subject of pre-Reformation instructions, regards of course their
nature and effect. We are asked to believe that the people were
allowed to grow up in ignorance of the true nature of religion, and
with superstitions in their hearts which the clergy could easily have
corrected; but which they, on the contrary, rather fostered as likely
to prove of pecuniary value to themselves. To keep the people ignorant
(it is said) was their great object, as it was through the ignorance
of the lay folk that the clergy hoped to maintain their influence and
ascendency, and, it is suggested, to draw money out of the pockets of
the faithful. The reverence which was paid at this time to images of
the saints, and in an especial manner to the crucifix, is often adduced
as proof that the people were evidently badly instructed in the nature
of religious worship; and the destruction of statues, paintings, and
pictured glass by the advanced reformers is thought to be explained,
if not excused, by the absolute need of putting a stop once for all to
a crying abuse. The explanation given to the people by their religious
teachers on the eve of the religious changes on this matter of devotion
to the saints, and of the nature of the reverence to be paid to their
representations, may be taken as a good sample of the practical nature
of the general instructions imparted in those times. The question
divested of all ambiguity is really this: Were the people taught to
understand the nature of an image or representation, or were they
allowed to regard them as objects of reverence in themselves--that is,
as _idols_? The material for a reply to this inquiry is fortunately
abundant. The _Dyalogue_ of Sir Thomas More was written in 1528, in
order to maintain the Catholic teaching about images, relics, and the
praying to saints. To this, then, an inquirer naturally turns in the
first place for an exposition of the common belief in these matters;
for Sir Thomas claims that in his tract he is defending only “the
common faith and belief of Christ’s Church.” “What this is,” he says,
“I am very sure; and perceive it well not only by experience of my
own time and the places where I have myself been to, with the common
report of other honest men from all other places of Christendom.” After
having explained that the commandment of God had reference to idols or
images worshipped as gods, and not to mere representations of Christ,
our Lady, or the Saints,[293] he continues: “but neither Scripture
nor natural reason forbids a man to reverence an image, not fixing
his final intent on the image, but referring the honour to the person
the image represents. In such reverence shown to an image there is no
honour withdrawn from God; but the saint is honoured in his image, and
God in His saint. When a man of mean birth and an ambassador to a great
king has high honour done to him, to whom does that honour redound,
to the ambassador or to the king? When a man on the recital of his
prince’s letter puts off his cap and kisses it, does he reverence the
paper or his prince?… All names spoken and all words written are no
material signs or images, but are made only by consent and agreement
of men to betoken and signify such things, whereas images painted,
graven, or carved, may be so well wrought and so near to the life and
the truth, that they will naturally and much more effectually represent
the thing than the name either spoken or written.… These two words,
_Christus crucifixus_, do not represent to us, either to laymen or to
the learned, so lively a remembrance of His bitter Passion as does
a blessed image of the crucifix, and this these heretics perceive
well enough. Nor do they speak against images in order to further
devotion, but plainly with a malicious mind to diminish and quench
men’s devotions. For they see clearly that no one who loves another
does not delight in his image or in anything of his. And these heretics
who are so sore against the images of God and His holy saints, would
be right angry with him that would dishonestly handle an image made in
remembrance of one of themselves, whilst the wretches forbear not to
handle villainously, and in despite cast dirt upon the holy crucifix,
an image made in remembrance of our Saviour Himself, and not only of
His most blessed Person, but also of His most bitter Passion.”[294]
Later on, in the same tract, rejecting the notion that people did not
fully understand that the image was intended merely to recall the
memory of the person whose image it was, and was not itself in any
sense the thing or person, More says: “The flock of Christ is not so
foolish as those heretics would make them to be. For whereas there is
no dog so mad that he does not know a real coney (_i.e._ rabbit) from
a coney carved and painted, (yet they would have it supposed that)
Christian people that have reason in their heads, and therefore the
light of faith in their souls, would think that the image of our Lady
were our Lady herself. Nay, they be not so mad, I trust, but that
they do reverence to the image for the honour of the person whom it
represents, as every man delights in the image and remembrance of his
friend. And although every good Christian man has a remembrance of
Christ’s passion in his mind, and conceives by devout meditation a
form and fashion thereof in his heart, yet there is no man I ween so
good nor so learned, nor so well accustomed to meditation, but that he
finds himself more moved to pity and compassion by beholding the holy
crucifix than when he lacks it.”[295]
In his work against Tyndale, More again takes up this subject in
reference to the way in which the former in his new translation of
the Bible had substituted the word _idol_ for _image_, as if they
were practically identical in meaning. “Good folk who worship images
of Christ and His saints, thereby worship Christ and His saints, whom
these images represent.” Just as pagan worshippers of idols did evil in
worshipping them, “because in them they worshipped devils (whom they
called gods and whom those idols represented), so Christian men do well
in worshipping images, because in them they worship Christ and His holy
saints.”[296]
Roger Edgworth, the preacher, describes at Bristol in Queen Mary’s
reign how the Reforming party endeavoured to confuse the minds of
the common people as to the meaning of the word idol. “I would,” he
says, “that you should not ignorantly confound and abuse those terms
‘idol’ and ‘image,’ taking an image for an idol and an idol for an
image, as I have heard many do in this city, as well fathers and
mothers (who should be wise) as their babies and children who have
learned foolishness from their parents. Now, at the dissolution of the
monasteries and friars’ houses many images have been carried abroad
and given to children to play with, and when the children have them
in their hands, dancing them in their childish manner, the father or
mother comes and says, ‘What nase, what have you there?’ The child
answers (as she is taught), ‘I have here my idol.’ Then the father
laughs and makes a gay game at it. So says the mother to another,
‘Jugge or Tommy, where did you get that pretty idol?’ ‘John, our parish
clerk gave it to me,’ says the child, and for that the clerk must have
thanks and shall not lack good cheer. But if the folly were only in
the insolent youth, and in the fond unlearned fathers and mothers, it
might soon be redressed.” The fact is, he proceeds to explain, that
the new preachers have been doing all in their power to obscure the
hitherto well-recognised difference in meaning between an image and an
idol. He begs his hearers to try and keep the difference in meaning
between an image and an idol clearly before their minds. “An image is a
similitude of a natural thing that has been, is, or may be,” he tells
them. “An idol is a similitude of what never was or may be. Therefore
the image of the crucifix is no idol, for it represents and signifies
Christ crucified as He was in very deed, and the image of St. Paul with
a sword in his hand as the sign of his martyrdom is no idol, for the
thing signified by it was a thing indeed, for he was beheaded with a
sword.”[297]
In another part of the _Dialogue_ Sir Thomas More pointed out that what
the reforming party said against devotion to images and pilgrimages
could be summed up under one of three heads. They charge the people
with giving “to the saints, and also to their images, honour like in
kind to what they give to God Himself”; or (2) that “they take the
images for the things themselves,” which is plain idolatry; or (3) that
the worship is conducted in a “superstitious fashion with a desire of
unlawful things.” Now, as to these three accusations, More replies:
“The first point is at once soon and shortly answered, for it is not
true. For though men kneel to saints and images, and incense them
also, yet it is not true that they for this reason worship them in
every point like unto God.… They lack the chief point (of such supreme
worship). That is, they worship God in the mind that He is God, which
intention in worship is the only thing that maketh it _latria_, and not
any certain gesture or bodily observance.” It would not be supreme or
divine worship even if “we would wallow upon the ground unto Christ,
having in this a mind that He were the best man we could think of,
but not thinking Him to be God. For if the lowly manner of bodily
observance makes _latria_, then we were in grave peril of idolatry in
our courtesy used to princes, prelates, and popes, to whom we kneel as
low as to God Almighty, and kiss some their hands and some our own,
ere ever we presume to touch them; and in the case of the Pope, his
foot; and as for incensing, the poor priests in every choir are as well
incensed as the Sacrament. Hence if _latria_, which is the special
honour due to God, was contained in these things, then we were great
idolaters, not only in our worship of the saints and of their images,
but also of men, one to another among ourselves.” Though indeed to God
Almighty ought to be shown as “humble and lowly a bodily reverence as
possible, still this bodily worship is not _latria_, unless we so do
it in our mind considering and acknowledging Him as God, and with that
mind and intention do our worship; and this, as I think,” he says, “no
Christian man does to any image or to any saint either.”
“Now, as touching the second point--namely, that people take the images
for the saints themselves, I trust there is no man so mad, or woman
either, that they do not know live men from dead stones, and a tree
from flesh and bone. And when they prefer our Lady at one pilgrimage
place before our Lady at another, or one rood before another, or make
their invocations and vows some to the one and some to the other, I
ween it easy to perceive that they mean nothing else than that our Lord
and our Lady, or rather our Lord for our Lady, shows more miracles at
the one than the other. They intend in their pilgrimages to visit,
some one place and some another, or sometimes the place is convenient
for them, or their devotion leads them; and yet (this is) not for the
place, but because our Lord pleases by manifest miracles to provoke men
to seek Him, or His Blessed Mother, or some Holy Saint of His, in these
places more especially than in some others.”
“This thing itself proves also that they do not take the images of our
Lady for herself. For if they did, how could they possibly in any wise
have more mind to one of them than to the other? For they can have
no more mind to our Lady than to our Lady. Moreover, if they thought
that the image at Walsingham was our Lady herself then must they needs
think that our Lady herself was that image. Then, if in like manner
they thought that the image at Ipswich was our Lady herself, and as
they must then need think that our Lady was the image at Ipswich, they
must needs think that all these three things were one thing.… And so
by the same reason they must suppose that the image at Ipswich was the
self-same image as at Walsingham. If you ask any one you take for the
simplest, except a natural fool, I dare hold you a wager she will tell
you ‘nay’ to this. Besides this, take the simplest fool you can find
and she will tell you our Lady herself is in heaven. She will also
call an image an image, and she will tell you the difference between
an image of a horse and a horse in very deed. And this appears clearly
whatever her words about her pilgrimage are calling, according to the
common manner of speech, the image of our Lady, our Lady. As men say,
‘Go to the King’s Head for wine,’ not meaning his real head, but the
sign, so she means nothing more in the image but our Lady’s image, no
matter how she may call it. And if you would prove she neither takes
our Lady for the image, nor the image for our Lady--talk with her about
our Lady and she will tell you that our Lady was saluted by Gabriel;
that our Lady fled into Egypt with Joseph; and yet in the telling she
will never say that ‘our Lady of Walsingham,’ or ‘of Ipswich,’ was
saluted by Gabriel, or fled into Egypt. If you would ask her whether
it was ‘our Lady of Walsingham,’ or ‘our Lady of Ipswich,’ that stood
by the cross at Christ’s Passion, she will, I warrant you, make answer
that it was neither of them; and if you further ask her, ‘which Lady
then,’ she will name you no image, but our Lady who is in heaven. And
this I have proved often, and you may do so, too, when you will and
shall find it true, except it be in the case of one so very a fool that
God will give her leave to believe what she likes. And surely, on this
point, I think in my mind that all those heretics who make as though
they had found so much idolatry among the people for mistaking (the
nature) of images, do but devise the fear, to have some cloak to cover
their heresy, wherein they bark against the saints themselves, and when
they are marked they say they only mean the wrong beliefs that women
have in images.”[298]
As regards the third point--namely, that honour is sometimes shown to
the saints and their images in “a superstitious fashion with a desire
of unlawful things,” More would be ready to blame this as much as any
man if it could be shown to be the case. “But I would not,” he says,
“blame all things which are declared to be of this character by the
new teachers. For example, to pray to St. Apollonia for the help of
our teeth is no witchcraft, considering that she had her teeth pulled
out for Christ’s sake. Nor is there any superstition in other suchlike
things.” Still, where abuses can be shown they ought to be put down as
abuses, and the difference between a lawful use and an unlawful abuse
recognised. But because there may be abuses done on the Sunday, or
in Lent, that is no reason why the Sunday observance, or the fast of
Lent, should be swept away.[299] “In like manner it would not be right
that all due worship of saints and reverence of relics, and honour of
saints’ images, by which good and devout folk get much merit, should
be abolished and put down because people abuse” these things. “Now,
as touching the evil petitions,” he continues, “though they who make
them were, as I trust they are not, a great number, they are not yet
so many that ask evil petitions of saints as ask them of God Himself.
For whatsoever such people will ask of a good saint, they will ask of
God Himself, and where as the worst point it is said, ‘that the people
do idolatry in that they take the images for the saints themselves, or
the rood for Christ Himself,’--which, as I have said, I think none do;
for some rood has no crucifix thereon, and they do not believe that the
cross which they see was ever at Jerusalem, or that it was the holy
cross itself, and much less think that the image that hangs on it is
the body of Christ Himself. And though some were so mad as to think so,
yet it is not ‘the people’ who do so. For a few doddering dames do not
make the people.”[300]
It is hard to imagine any teaching about the use and abuse of images
clearer than that which is contained in the foregoing passages from Sir
Thomas More’s writings. The main importance of his testimony, however,
is not so much this clear statement of Catholic doctrine on the nature
of devotion to images, as his positive declaration that there were not
such abuses, or superstitions, common among the people on the eve of
the religious changes, as it suited the purpose of the early reformers
to suggest, and of later writers with sectarian bias to believe.
For evidence of positive and distinct teaching on the matter of
reverence to be shown to images, and on its nature and limits, we
cannot do better than refer to that most popular book of instruction
in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, already referred to,
called _Dives et Pauper_, a treatise on the Ten Commandments. It was
multiplied from the beginning of the fifteenth century in manuscript
copies, and printed editions of it were issued from the presses of
Pynson, Wynkyn de Worde, and Thomas Berthelet. These editions published
by our early printers are sufficient to attest its popularity, and
the importance attached to it as a book of instruction by the
ecclesiastical authorities on the eve of the Reformation.
This is how the teacher lays down the general principle of loving God:
“The first precept of charity is this: Thou shalt love the Lord God
with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, with all
thy might. When He saith thou shalt love thy God with all thy heart,
He excludeth all manner of idolatry that is forbidden by the first
commandment; that is, that man set not his heart, nor his faith, nor
his trust in any creature more than in God, or against God’s worship.…
God orders that thou shouldst love Him with all thy heart, that is to
say, with all thy faith, in such a way that thou set all thy faith and
trust in Him before all others, as in Him that is Almighty and can
best help thee in thy need.” Later on, under the same heading, we are
taught that: “by this commandment we are bound to worship God, who is
the Father of all things, who is called the Father of mercies and God
of all comfort. He is our Father, for He made us of nought: He bought
us with His blood, He findeth us all that we need, and much more, He
feedeth us. He is our Father by grace, for by His grace He hath made
us heirs of heavenly bliss. Was there ever a father so tender of his
child as God is tender of us? He is to us both father and mother,
and therefore we are bound to love Him and worship Him above all
things.”[301]
Under the first commandment the whole question as to images, and the
nature of the reverence to be paid to them, is carefully considered,
and the matter put so plainly, that there is no room for doubt as to
the nature of the instructions given to the people in pre-Reformation
days. Images, the teacher explains, are ordered for three great ends,
namely: “To stir men’s minds to meditate upon the Incarnation of Christ
and upon His life and passion, and upon the lives of the saints;”
secondly, to move the heart to devotion and love, “for oft man is
stirred more by sight than by hearing or reading;” thirdly, they “are
intended to be a token and a book to the ignorant people, that they may
read in images and painting as clerks read in books.”
And in reply to a question from _Dives_, who pretended to think that
it would be difficult to read a lesson from any painting, _Pauper_
explains his meaning in calling them “books to the unlearned.” “When
thou seest the image of the crucifix,” he says, “think of Him that
died on the cross for thy sins and thy sake, and thank Him for His
endless charity that He would suffer so much for thee. See in images
how His head was crowned with a garland of thorns till the blood burst
out on every side, to destroy the great sin of pride which is most
manifested in the heads of men and women. Behold, and make an end to
thy pride. See in the image how His arms were spread abroad and drawn
up on the tree till the veins and sinews cracked, and how His hands
were nailed to the cross, and streamed with blood, to destroy the sin
that Adam and Eve did with their hands when they took the apple against
God’s prohibition. Also He suffered to wash away the sin of the wicked
deeds and wicked works done by the hands of men and women. Behold,
and make an end of thy wicked works. See how His side was opened and
His heart cloven in two by the sharp spear, and how it shed blood and
water, to show that if He had had more blood in His body, more He would
have given for men’s love. He shed His blood to ransom our souls, and
water to wash us from our sins.”
But whilst the instructor teaches the way in which the crucifix may
be a book full of deep meaning to the unlearned, he is most careful
to see that the true signification of the image is not misunderstood.
In language which for clearness of expression and simplicity of
illustration cannot be excelled, he warns _Dives_ not to mistake the
real nature of the reverence paid to the symbol of our redemption. “In
this manner,” he says, “read thy book and fall down to the ground and
thank thy God who would do so much for thee. Worship Him above all
things--not the stock, nor the stone, nor the wood, but Him who died
on the tree of the cross for thy sins and thy sake. Thou shalt kneel
if thou wilt before the image, but not to the image. Thou shalt do thy
worship before the image, before the thing, not to the thing; offer
thy prayer before the thing, not to the thing, for it seeth thee not,
heareth thee not, understandeth thee not: make thy offering, if thou
wilt, before the thing, but not to the thing: make thy pilgrimage not
to the thing, nor for the thing, for it may not help thee, but to Him
and for Him the thing represents. For if thou do it for the thing, or
to the thing, thou doest idolatry.”
This plain teaching as to the only meaning of reverence paid to images,
namely, that it is relative and intended for that which the image
represents, our author enforces by several examples. Just as a priest
when saying mass with a book before him, bends down, holds up his
hands, kneels, and performs other external signs of worship, not to the
book, but to God, “so should the unlettered man use his book, that is
images and paintings, not worshipping the thing, but God in heaven and
the saints in their degree. All the worship which he doth before the
thing, he doth, not to the thing, but to Him the thing represents.”
The image of the crucified Saviour on the altar is specially intended,
our author says, to remind all that “Mass singing is a special
mind-making of Christ’s passion.” For this reason, in the presence of
the crucifix, the priest says “his mass, and offers up the highest
prayer that Holy Church can devise for the salvation of the quick and
the dead. He holds up his hands, he bows down, he kneels, and all the
worship he can do, he does--more than all, he offers up the highest
sacrifice and the best offering that any heart can devise--that is
Christ, the Son of the God of heaven, under the form of bread and
wine. All this worship the priest doth at mass before the thing--the
crucifix; and I hope there is no man nor woman so ignorant that he will
say that the priest singeth his mass, or maketh his prayer, or offers
up the Son of God, Christ Himself, to the thing.… In the same way,
unlettered men should worship before the thing, making prayer before
the thing, and not to the thing.”
One of the special practices of the mediæval church to which the
English reformers objected, and to which they gave the epithet
“superstitious,” was the honour shown to the cross on Good Friday,
generally known as “the creeping to the cross.” The advocates of change
in insisting upon this time-honoured ceremony being swept away, claimed
that in permitting it the Church had given occasion to wrong ideas of
worship in the minds of the common people, and that the reverence shown
to the symbol of our redemption on that occasion amounted practically
to idolatry. In view of such assertions, it is not without interest
to see how _Pauper_ in this book of simple instructions treats this
matter. “On Good Friday especially,” says _Dives_, “men creep to the
cross and worship the cross.” “That is so,” replies the instructor,
“but not in the way thou meanest. The cross that we creep to and
worship so highly at that time is Christ Himself, who died on the cross
on that day for our sin and our sake.… He is that cross, as all doctors
say, to whom we pray and say, ‘_Ave crux, spes unica_,’ ‘Hail, thou
cross, our only hope.’” But rejoins _Dives_, “On Palm Sunday, at the
procession the priest draweth up the veil before the rood and falleth
down to the ground with all the people, saying thrice thus, ‘_Ave Rex
noster_,’ ‘Hail, be Thou our King.’ In this he worships the thing as
King! _Absit!_” “God forbid!” replies _Pauper_, “he speaks not to the
image that the carpenter hath made and the painter painted, unless the
priest be a fool, for the stock and stone was never king. He speaketh
to Him that died on the cross for us all--to Him that is King of all
things.… For this reason are crosses placed by the wayside, to remind
folk to think of Him who died on the cross, and to worship Him above
all things. And for this same reason is the cross borne before a
procession, that all who follow after it or meet it should worship Him
who died upon a cross as their King, their Head, their Lord and their
Leader to Heaven.”
Equally clear is the author of _Dives et Pauper_ upon the distinction
between the worship to be paid to God and the honour it is lawful to
give to His saints. It is, of course, frequently asserted that the
English pre-Reformation church did not recognise, or at least did not
inculcate, this necessary difference, and consequently tolerated, even
if it did not suggest, gross errors in this matter. No one who has
examined the manuals of instruction which were in use on the eve of the
Reformation can possibly maintain an opinion so opposed to the only
evidence available. In particular, the real distinction between the
supreme worship due to God alone, and the honour, however great, to be
paid to His creatures is drawn out with great care and exactness in
regard to the devotion paid to our Lord’s Blessed Mother. Thus, after
most carefully explaining that there are two modes of “service and
worship” which differ not merely in degree, but in kind and nature, and
which were then, as now, known under the terms _latria_ and _dulia_,
our author proceeds, “Latria is a protestation and acknowledgment of
the high majesty of God; the recognition that He is sovereign goodness,
sovereign wisdom, sovereign might, sovereign truth, sovereign justice;
that He is the Creator and Saviour of all creatures and the end of all
things; that all we have we have of Him, and that without Him we have
absolutely nothing; and that without Him we can neither have nor do
anything, neither we nor any other creature. This acknowledgment and
protestation is made in three ways: by the heart, and by word, and by
deed. We make it by the heart when we love Him as sovereign goodness;
when we love Him as sovereign wisdom and truth, that may not deceive
nor be deceived; when we hope in Him and trust Him as sovereign might
that can best help us in need; as sovereign greatness and Lord, who may
best yield us our deserts; and as sovereign Saviour, most merciful and
most ready to forgive us our misdeeds.… Also the acknowledgment is done
in the prayer and praise of our mouths.… For we must pray to Him and
praise Him as sovereign might, sovereign wisdom, sovereign goodness,
sovereign truth; as all-just and merciful as the Maker and Saviour of
all things, &c.
“And in this manner we are not to pray to or praise any creature.
Therefore, they who make their prayers and their praises before images,
and say their _Paternoster_ and their _Ave Maria_ and other prayers and
praises commonly used by holy Church, or any such, if they do it to the
image, and speak to the image, they do open idolatry. Also they are not
excused even if they understand not what they say, for their lights,
and their other wits, and their inner wit also, showeth them well that
there ought that no such prayer, praise, or worship be offered to such
images, for they can neither hear them, nor see them, nor help them in
their needs.”
Equally definite and explicit is another writer, just on the eve of the
Reformation. William Bond, the brother of Sion, in 1531 published his
large volume of instructions called _The Pilgrymage of Perfeccyon_, to
which his contemporary, Richard Whitford, refers his readers for the
fullest teaching on sundry points of faith and practice. In setting
forth the distinction between an _image_ and an _idol_ this authority
says, “Many nowadays take the Scripture wrongly, and thereby fall into
heresy as Wycliffe did with his followers, and now this abominable
heretic, Luther, with his adherents.… And (as I suppose) the cause
of their error is some of these following:--First, that they put no
difference between an idol and an image; secondly, that they put no
difference between the service or high adoration due to God, called
in the Greek tongue _latria_, and the lower veneration or worship
exhibited and done to the saints of God, called in Greek _dulia_.… The
veneration or worship that is done to the images (as Damascene, Basil,
and St. Thomas say) rest not in them, but redound unto the thing that
is represented by such images: as for example, the great ambassador
or messenger of a king shall have the same reverence that the king’s
own person should have if he were present. This honour is not done to
this man for himself, or for his own person, but for the king’s person
in whose name he cometh, and all such honour and reverence so done
redoundeth to the king and resteth in him.… So it is in the veneration
or worshipping of the images of Christ and His saints. The honour
rests not in the image, nor in the stock, nor in the stone, but in the
thing that is represented thereby.” According to St. Thomas, he says
the images in churches are intended to “be as books to the rude and
unlearned people,” and to “stir simple souls to devotion.”[302]
Bond then draws out most carefully the distinction which the Church
teaches as to the kinds of honour to be given to the saints. “Our
lights, oblations, or Paternosters and creeds that we say before images
of saints,” he says, “are as praisings of God, for His graces wrought
in His saints, by whose merits we trust that our petitions shall be the
sooner obtained of God.… We pray to them, not as to the granters of our
petitions, but as means whereby we may the sooner obtain the same.”[303]
Speaking specially of the reverence shown to the crucifix, our author
uses the teaching of St. Thomas to explain the exact meaning of this
honour. “The Church in Lent, in the Passion time,” he continues,
“worships it, singing, ‘_O crux ave, spes unica_,’ ‘Hail, holy cross,
our only hope.’ That is to be understood as ‘Hail, blessed Lord
crucified, Who art our only hope’--for all is one worship and act.
Christ, our Maker and Redeemer, God and man in one person, is of duty
worshipped with the high adoration only due to God, called _latria_.
His image also, or his similitude, called the crucifix, is to be
worshipped, just as the Blessed Sacrament is adored with the worship of
_latria_.”[304]
To this testimony may be added that of another passage from Sir Thomas
More. He was engaged in refuting the accusation made by Tyndale against
the religious practices of pre-Reformation days, to which charges,
unfortunately, people have given too much credence in later times. “Now
of prayer, Tyndale says,” writes More, “that we think no man may pray
but at church, and that (_i.e._ the praying before a crucifix or image)
is nothing but the saying of a _Paternoster_ to a post. (Further)
that the observances and ceremonies of the Church are vain things of
our own imagination, neither needful to the taming of the flesh, nor
profitable to our neighbour, nor to the honour of God. These lies come
in by lumps; lo! I dare say that he never heard in his life men nor
women say that a man might pray only in church. Just as true is it also
that men say their _Paternosters_ to the post, by which name it pleases
him of his reverent Christian mind to call the images of holy saints
and our Blessed Lady, and the figure of Christ’s cross, the book of
His bitter passion. Though we reverence these in honour of the things
they represent, and in remembrance of Christ do creep to the cross and
kiss it, and say _Paternoster_ at it, yet we say not our _Paternoster_
to it, but to God; and that Tyndale knows full well, but he likes to
rail.”[305]
Finally a passage on the subject of pre-Reformation devotion to the
saints and angels, from the tract _Dives et Pauper_, may fitly close
this subject. “First,” says the author, “worship ye our Lady, mother
and maid, above all, next after God, and then other saints both men
and women, and then the holy angels, as God giveth the grace. Worship
ye them not as God, but as our tutors, defenders and keepers, as our
leaders and governors under God, as the means between us and God, who
is the Father of all and most Sovereign Judge, to appease Him, and to
pray for us, and to obtain us grace to do well, and for forgiveness
of our misdeeds.… And, dear friend, pray ye heartily to your angel,
as to him that is nearest to you and hath most care of you, and is,
under God, most busy to save you. And follow his governance and trust
in him in all goodness, and with reverence and purity pray ye to him
faithfully, make your plaints to him, and speak to him homely to be
your helper, since he is your tutor and keeper assigned to you by God.
Say oft that holy prayer, _Angele qui meus est_, &c.”
This prayer to the Guardian Angel, so highly commended, was well known
to pre-Reformation Catholics. Generations of English mothers taught it
to their children; it is found frequently recommended in the sermons
of the fifteenth century, and confessors are charged to advise their
penitents to learn and make use of it. For the benefit of those of
my readers who may not know the prayer, I here give it in an English
form, from a Latin version in the tract _Dextra Pars Oculi_, which
was intended to assist confessors in the discharge of their sacred
ministry--
“O angel who my guardian art,
Through God’s paternal love,
Defend, and shield, and rule the charge
Assigned thee from above.
From vice’s stain preserve my soul,
O gentle angel bright,
In all my life be thou my stay,
To all my steps the light.”
It is, of course, impossible here to do more than refer to the
books of instruction, and those intended to furnish the priests on
the eve of the Reformation with material for the familiar teaching
they were bound to give their people. Such works as Walter Pagula’s
_Pars Oculi Sacerdotis_, and the _Pupilla Oculi_ of John de Burgo,
both fourteenth-century productions, were in general use during the
fifteenth century among the clergy. The frequent mention of these works
in the inventories and wills of the period shows that they were in
great demand, and were circulated from hand to hand, whilst an edition
of the latter, printed in 1510 by Wolffgang, at the expense of an
English merchant, William Bretton, attests its continued popularity.
In a letter from the editor, Augustine Aggeus, to Bretton, printed on
the back of the title-page, it is said that the _Pupilla_ was printed
solely with the desire that the rites and sacraments of the church
might be better understood and appreciated, and to secure “that nowhere
in the English Church” should there be any excuse of ignorance on those
matters.[306]
The contents of the first-named tract, the _Pars Oculi Sacerdotis_,
show how very useful a manual it must have been to assist the clergy
in their ministrations. It consists of three parts: the first portion
forms what would now be called the _praxis confessarii_, a manual
for instructing priests in the science of dealing with souls, and
giving examples of the kind of questions that should be asked of
various people, for example, of religious, secular priests, merchants,
soldiers, and the like. This is followed by a detailed examination
of conscience, and pious practices are suggested for the priest to
recommend for the use of the faithful. For example, in order that the
lives of lay people might be associated in some way with the public
prayer of the church, the Divine office, the priest is advised to get
his penitents to make use of the Pater and Creed, seven times a day,
to correspond with the canonical hours. Those having the cure of souls
are reminded that it is their duty to see that all at least know the
Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Hail Mary by heart, and they are
urged to do all in their power to inculcate devotions to our Lady,
Patron Saints, and the Guardian Angels.
The second part of the _Dextra Pars Oculi_ deals minutely and carefully
with the instructions which a priest should give his people in their
religion, and this includes not only points of necessary belief
and Christian practice, but such matters as the proper decorum and
behaviour in Church, and the cemetery, &c. The materials for these
familiar instructions are arranged under thirty-one headings, and
following on these are the explanations of Christian faith and practice
to be made in the simple sermons the clergy were bound to give to their
people quarterly. The third part, called the _Sinistra Pars Oculi_, is
an equally careful treatise on the sacraments. The instructions on the
Blessed Eucharist are excellent, and in the course of them many matters
of English religious practice are touched upon and the ceremonies of
the Mass are fully explained.[307]
It is obvious that much of the real religious instruction in
pre-Reformation days, as indeed in all ages, had to be given at home by
parents to their children. The daily practices by which the home life
is regulated and sanctified are more efficacious in the formation of
early habits of solid piety and the fear of God in the young than any
religious instructions given at school or at Church. This was fully
understood and insisted upon in pre-Reformation books of instruction.
Such, for example, is the very purpose of Richard Whitford’s book,
called _A werke for Housholders, or for them that have the guyding or
governance of any company_, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1534, and
again by Robert Redman in 1537. After reminding his readers that life
is short, and that it is impossible for any man to know when he shall
be called upon to give an account of his stewardship, he turns to the
consideration of the Christian’s daily life. Begin the day well, he
says; on first awakening, turn your thoughts and heart to God, “and
then use by continual custom to make a cross with your thumb upon your
forehead or front, whilst saying these words, _In nomine Patris_; and
another cross upon your mouth, with these words, _Et filii_; and then
a third cross upon your breast, saying, _Et spiritus Sancti_.” After
suggesting a form of morning and evening prayer, and urging a daily
examination of conscience, he continues: Some may object that all this
is very well for religious, or people secluded from the world, “but we
lie two or three sometimes together, and even in one chamber divers
beds, and so many in company, that if we should use these things in the
presence of our fellows some would laugh us to scorn and mock at us.”
But to this objection Whitford in effect replies that at most it would
be a nine days’ wonder, and people would quickly be induced to follow
an example of such a good Christian practice if set with courage and
firmness.[308]
Speaking of the duty of instructing others, “the wretch of Syon,” as
Whitford constantly calls himself, urges those who can read to use
their gifts for the benefit of others not so fortunate. They should get
their neighbours together on holidays, he says, especially the young,
and teach them the daily exercise, and in particular the “things they
are bound to know or can say: that is the _Paternoster_, the _Ave_,
and the _Creed_.” Begin early to teach those that are young, for “our
English proverb saith that the young cock croweth as he doth hear and
learn of the old.” Parents, above all things, he urges to look well
after their children and to take care of the company they keep. Teach
them to say their grace at meals. “At every meal, dinner or supper,
I have advised, and do now counsel, that one person should with loud
voice say thus, ‘Paternoster,’ with every petition paraphrased and
explained, and the Hail Mary and Creed likewise. This manner of the
Paternoster, Ave, and Creed,” he says, “I would have used and read from
the book at every meal, or at least once a day with a loud voice that
all the persons present may hear it.” People are bound to see that all
in their house know these prayers and say them.[309]
Very strongly indeed does Whitford in this volume write against belief
in charms and giving way to superstitions. There is no question about
his strong condemnation of anything, however slight, which might
savour of reliance on these external things, and as an instance of
what he means, he declares that the application of a piece of bread,
with a cross marked upon it, to a tooth to cure its aching, savours of
superstition, as showing too great a reliance on the material cross. In
the same place our author urges parents to correct their children early
for any use of oaths and strong expressions. “Teach your children,” he
says, “to make their additions under this form: ‘yea, father,’ ‘nay,
father,’ ‘yea, mother,’ ‘nay, mother,’ and ever to avoid such things as
‘by cock and pye,’ and ‘by my hood of green,’ and such other.”[310]
Finally, to take but one more example of the advice given in this
interesting volume to parents and others having the charge of the
young, Whitford says: “Teach your children to ask a blessing every
night, kneeling, before they go to rest, under this form: ‘Father, I
beseech you a blessing for charity.’” If the child is too stubborn to
do this, he says let it “be well whisked.” If too old to be corrected
in this way, let it be set out in the middle of the dining-room and
made to feed by itself, and let it be treated as one would treat one
who did not deserve to consort with its fellows. Also teach the young
“to ask a blessing from every bishop, abbot, and priest, and of their
godfathers and godmothers also.”[311]
In taking a general survey of the books issued by the English presses
upon the introduction of the art of printing, the inquirer can hardly
fail to be struck with the number of religious, or quasi-religious,
works which formed the bulk of the early printed books. This fact
alone is sufficient evidence that the invention which at this period
worked a veritable revolution in the intellectual life of the world,
was welcomed by the ecclesiastical authorities as a valuable auxiliary
in the work of instruction. In England the first presses were set up
under the patronage of churchmen, and a very large proportion of the
early books were actually works of instruction or volumes furnishing
materials to the clergy for the familiar and simple discourses which
they were accustomed to give four times a year to their people. Besides
the large number of what may be regarded as professional books chiefly
intended for use by the ecclesiastical body, such as missals, manuals,
breviaries, and horæ, and the prymers and other prayer-books used by
the laity, there was an ample supply of religious literature published
in the early part of the sixteenth century. In fact, the bulk of the
early printed English books were of a religious character, and as the
publication of such volumes was evidently a matter of business on the
part of the first English printers, it is obvious that this class of
literature commanded a ready sale, and that the circulation of such
books was fostered by those in authority at this period. Volumes of
sermons, works of Instruction on the Creed and the Commandments, lives
of the saints, and popular expositions of Scripture history, were not
only produced but passed through several editions in a short space
of time. The evidence, consequently, of the productions of the first
English printing-presses goes to show not only that religious books
were in great demand, but also that so far from discouraging the use
of such works of instruction, the ecclesiastical authorities actively
helped in their diffusion.
In considering the religious education of the people in the time
previous to the great upheaval of the sixteenth century, some account
must be taken of the village mystery plays which obviously formed no
inconsiderable part in popular instruction in the great truths of
religion. The inventories of parish churches and the churchwardens’
accounts which have survived show how very common a feature these
religious plays formed in the parish life of the fifteenth century, and
the words of the various dramas, of which we still possess copies, show
how powerful a medium of teaching they would have been among the simple
and unlettered villagers of Catholic England, and even to the crowds
which at times thronged great cities like Coventry and Chester, to be
present at the more elaborate plays acted in these traditional centres
of the religious drama.
As to their popularity there can be no question. Dramatic
representations of the chief events in the life of our Lord, &c., were
commonly so associated with the religious purposes for which they were
originally produced, that they were played on Sundays and feast days,
and not infrequently in churches, church porches, and churchyards.
“Spectacles, plays, and dances that are used on great feasts,” says
the author of _Dives et Pauper_, quoted above, “as they are done
principally for devotion and honest mirth, and to teach men to love
God the more, are lawful if the people be not thereby hindered from
God’s service, nor from hearing God’s word, and provided that in such
spectacles and plays there is mingled no error against the faith of
Holy Church and good living. All other plays are prohibited, both on
holidays and work days (according to the law), upon which the gloss
saith that the representation in plays at Christmas of Herod and the
Three Kings, and other pieces of the Gospel, both then and at Easter
and other times, is lawful and commendable.”
A few examples of the kind of teaching imparted in these plays will
give a better idea of the purpose they served in pre-Reformation days
than any description. There can be no reasonable doubt that such
dramatic representations of the chief mysteries of religion and of
scenes in the life of our Lord or of His saints served to impress
these truths and events upon the imaginations of the audiences who
witnessed them, and to make them vivid realities in a way which we,
who are not living in the same religious atmosphere, find it difficult
now to understand. The religious drama was the handmaid of the Church,
and was intended to assist in instructing the people at large in the
truths and duties of religion, just as the paintings upon the walls of
the sacred buildings were designed to tell their own tale of the Bible
history, and form “a book” ever open to the eyes of the unlettered
children of the Church, easy to be understood, graphically setting
forth events in the story of God’s dealings with men, and illustrating
truths which often formed the groundwork for oral instruction in the
Sunday sermon.
Whatever we may be inclined to think of these simple plays as literary
works, or however we may be inclined now to smile at some of the
characters and “situations,” as to the pious spirit which dictated
their composition and presided over their production there can be
no doubt. “In great devotion and discretion,” says the monk and
chronicler, “Higden published the story of the Bible, that the simple
in their own language might understand.”[312]
This was the motive of all these mediæval religious plays. As a popular
writer upon the English drama says: “There is abundant evidence that
the Romish ecclesiastics in the mystery plays, especially that part
of them relating to the birth, passion, and resurrection of Christ,
had the perfectly serious intention of strengthening the faith of the
multitude in the fundamental doctrines of the Church, and it seems the
less extraordinary that they should have resorted to this expedient
when we reflect that, before the invention of printing, books had no
existence for the people at large.”[313]
The subjects treated of in these plays were very varied, although
those which were performed at the great feasts of Christmas and
Easter generally had some relation to the mystery then celebrated. In
fact, the mystery plays of the sacred seasons were only looked upon
as helping to make men realise more deeply the great drama of the
Redemption, the memory of which was perpetuated in the sequence of
the great festivals of the Christian year. In such a collection as
that known as the _Towneley Mysteries_, and published by the Surtees
Society, we have examples of the subjects treated in the religious
plays of the period. The collection makes no pretence to be complete,
but it comprises some three and thirty plays, including such subjects
as the Creation, the death of Abel, the story of Noah, the sacrifice of
Isaac and other Old Testament histories, and a great number of scenes
from the New Testament, such as the Annunciation, the Visitation, Cæsar
Augustus, scenes from the Nativity, the Shepherds and the Magi, the
Flight into Egypt, various scenes from the Passion and Crucifixion, the
parable of the Talents, the story of Lazarus, &c.
Any one who will take the trouble to read these plays as they are
printed in this volume cannot fail to be impressed not only with the
vivid picture of the special scene in the Old or New Testament that
is presented to the imagination, but by the extensive knowledge of
the Bible which the production of these plays must have imparted to
those who listened to them, and by the way in which, incidentally, the
most important religious truths are conveyed in the crude and rugged
verse. Again and again, for instance, the entire dependence of all
created things upon the Providence of Almighty God is declared and
illustrated. Thus, the confession of God’s Omnipotence, put into the
mouth of Noah at the beginning of the play of “Noah and his Sons,”
contains a profession of belief in the Holy Trinity and in the work of
the three Persons: it describes the creation of the world, the fall
of Lucifer, the sin of our first parents, and their expulsion from
Paradise. In the story of Abraham, too, the prayer of the patriarch
with which it begins:
“Adonai, thou God very,
Thou hear us when to Thee we call,
As Thou art He that best may,
Thou art most succour and help of all,”
gives a complete résumé of the Bible history before the days of
Abraham, with the purpose of showing that all things are in the hands
of God, and that complete obedience is due to Him by all creatures whom
He has made.
The same teaching as to the entire dependence of the Christian for all
things upon God’s Providence appears in the address of the soul to its
Maker in the “morality” of Mary Magdalene, printed by Mr. Sharpe from
the Digby Manuscript collection of religious plays:--
“_Anima_:
‘Sovereign Lord, I am bound to Thee;
When I was nought, Thou made me thus glorious;
When I perished through sin, Thou saved me;
When I was in great peril, Thou kept me, Christus;
When I erred, Thou reduced me, Jesus;
When I was ignorant, Thou taught me truth;
When I sinned, Thou corrected me thus;
When I was heavy, Thou comforted me by truth (_i.e._ Thy mercy);
When I stand in grace, Thou holdest me that tide;
When I fall, Thou raisest me mightily;
When I go well, Thou art my guide;
When I come, Thou receivest me most lovingly;
Thou hast anointed me with the oil of mercy;
Thy benefits, Lord, be innumerable:
Wherefore laud endless to Thee I cry;
Recommending me to Thy endless power endurable.’”
The more these old plays which delighted our forefathers are examined,
the more clear it becomes that, although undoubtedly unlearned and
unread, the people in pre-Reformation days, with instruction such as
is conveyed in these pious dramas, must have had a deeper insight into
the Gospel narrative, and a more thorough knowledge of Bible history
generally, not to speak of a comprehension of the great truths of
religion, than the majority of men possess now in these days of boasted
enlightenment. Some of the plays, as for example that representing St.
Peter’s fall, exhibit a depth of genuine feeling, of humble sorrow, for
instance, on the part of St. Peter, and of loving-kindness on the part
of our Lord, which must have come home to the hearts as well as to the
minds of the beholders. At the same time, the lesson deduced by our
Saviour from the apostle’s fall, namely, the need of all learning by
their own shortcomings to be merciful to the trespasses of others, must
have impressed itself upon them with a force which would not easily
have been forgotten.
In that most popular of all representations--that of Doomsday--“people
learnt that before God there is no distinction of persons, and that
each individual soul will be judged on its own merits, quite apart
from any fictitious human distinctions of rank, wealth, or power.”
Thus, as types, appear a _saved_ pope, emperor, king and queen, and
amongst the _damned_ we also find a pope, emperor, king and queen,
justiciar and merchant. And the words of thankfulness uttered by the
Pope that has obtained his crown betrays “no self-satisfaction at the
attainment of salvation; on the contrary, the true ring of Christian
humility betokens a due appreciation of God’s unutterable holiness, and
our unworthiness to stand before His face till the uttermost blemish
left by sin has been wiped away” by the healing fires of Purgatory.
No less clearly is the full doctrine of responsibility taught in the
lament of the Pope, who is represented as having lost his soul by an
evil life, and as being condemned to eternal punishment. The mere fact
of a pope being so represented was in itself, when the Office was
held in the highest regard, a lesson of the highest importance in the
teaching of the true principles of holiness. In a word, these mystery
plays provided a most useful means of impressing upon the minds of
all the facts of Bible history, the great truths of religion, and the
chief Christian virtues. The people taught in such a school and the
people who delighted in such representations, as our forefathers in
pre-Reformation days unquestionably did, cannot, even from this point
of view alone, be regarded as ignorant of scriptural or moral teaching.