CHAPTER VIII.

THE JESUITS IN ENGLAND.

The conspiracy to overthrow the Protestant institutions of Germany

furnished a precedent in dealing with other Governments. That against

England was characterized by some peculiarities, owing to its having

been subject to the spiritual dominion of the pope until the reign

of Henry VIII, and afterwards under that of Mary. As there are no

instances in history where a people have surrendered the control over

their institutions without a struggle, unless previously reduced to

absolute imbecility, the inauguration and progress of this conspiracy

furnish a great many "object-lessons" of special interest to all in

the United States who hold in kindly remembrance the struggles of our

English ancestry for liberty.

When Henry VIII quarreled with the pope, it was only about his

divorce. Religion was not involved. He maintained the dogmas of the

Roman Catholic Church until his death. But in order to give license

to his passions, he caused himself to be recognized by a submissive

Parliament as taking the place of the pope in the religious affairs of

England--not, however, as the head of the National Church, which did

not distinctively exist as such until the subsequent reign of Edward

VI. As between him and the pope, the dispute was about authority, not

doctrine. It excited intense anger in the minds of both, and this was

soon imparted to their respective adherents. Each was familiar with

the methods of persecution and the implements of coercion, long in use

to produce uniformity of faith, and they were equally ready to employ

them. There were, however, differences between them worthy of being

noted. The highest aspiration of Henry was to govern England; the pope

reached out after the spiritual government of the world. The pope,

without the sanction and authority of the Church, claimed personal

infallibility; Henry did not. They were consequently formidable

antagonists. Trained within the same circle of events, with minds

disciplined by the same doctrinal teachings, and entirely agreed about

the employment of compulsion in matters of faith, each dealt with the

other as a mere competitor for power.

The pope--Paul III--endeavored to bring his royal antagonist to

terms by excommunication; but Henry defied it and its accompanying

anathemas. In proportion as the passions of the pope became intensified

by resistance to his spiritual authority, the measures designed to

reduce England to obedience became more violent. Henry was denounced

as a traitor to heaven and the Church, and threatened with all the

consequences implied by that denunciation. The pope endeavored to

induce the Emperor Charles V and Francis I of France to invade England,

make conquest of the country, and bring it again into obedience

to him; but these monarchs feared the consequences, and prudently

declined the undertaking. Disappointed in this, the pope hastened to

solicit the aid of Loyola, who without delay provided Jesuits to be

sent to England as spies, and to plot secretly against Henry. These

emissaries were privately instructed by Loyola himself; and inasmuch

as these instructions have been made known, and are admitted by the

Jesuits, they serve to show the uses to which Loyola intended to put

his society. The philosophy of history is often left unperceived by

omitting to observe the force of such evidence as this.

After counseling them to practice great prudence and circumspection

in conversing with others, so as to unveil "the depth of their

sentiments"--that is, to draw out their secret thoughts--Loyola

proceeded to instruct them that, "in order to conciliate to yourselves

the good-will of men in the desire of extending the kingdom of God,

you will _make yourselves all things to all men_, after the example

of the apostle in order to gain them to Jesus Christ." And he tells

them further that "when the devil attacks a just man, he does not let

him see his snares"--therefore they must imitate him, in order to

entice men into Jesuit snares![75] Taken as a whole, these instructions

were manifestly designed so to train all Jesuits as to make them,

according to Nicolini, "crafty, insinuating, deceitful." Cretineau, a

Jesuit, attempts to argue, continues Nicolini, that they had reference

to religious and not to political matters, and this is the only

defense he offers for them. But this is itself Jesuitical, inasmuch

as these emissaries were sent to England upon a mission involving

politico-religious affairs--that is, the policy established by the

Government of England in regard to the relations between it and the

pope. Whether right or wrong, the English people established these

relations for themselves, as they had the undoubted right to do, and

no alien or foreign power, whether employed by the pope or any other

monarch, could rightfully interfere with them.

These emissaries of Loyola and the pope visited Ireland and Scotland;

but with the exception of intriguing with James V of Scotland, their

mission was ineffectual, and they returned to Rome. Henry was not

seriously disturbed by them. Nor was there any other attempt to

introduce the Jesuits into England until after the death of Queen Mary,

whose persecution of the Protestants was sufficiently satisfactory

to the papacy without their aid. Their introduction during her reign

had been opposed and defeated by Cardinal Pole, an Englishman; but

whether he was hostile to them, or considered the existing system of

persecution perfect enough without them, is not clearly shown.

We are thus brought to a portion of English history specially

interesting and instructive to all who hold in admiration the civil

institutions of the United States; for they have read history to but

little purpose who do not know how the events of that period gave

stability to principles which now constitute fundamental parts of our

national polity. In tracing our pedigree back to its English source, it

is as easy to see our intimate relations with the Elizabethan era as it

is to follow the little rivulets in the valleys or upon the mountains

in their courses to the sea. On this account some particularity

of detail is rendered necessary, or else some matters of historic

interest, not generally observed, may be omitted.

During the reign of Elizabeth the papal authorities renewed their

exertions to put a stop to Protestantism in England, and sent more

Jesuits there for that purpose. "These satellites of the pope," says

the historian, "entered the country under fictitious names, and as

stealthily as nocturnal robbers, mendacious in every word they uttered,

and exciting the people to rebellion against the 'impious' queen."[76]

The vigilance of Elizabeth, however, was of such a character that

she was not easily taken by surprise, and their plottings against

her became less effective than they and the pope had anticipated.

Accordingly other Jesuits were sent to Scotland to encourage Queen

Mary, and hold her steadfast in the faith; but they were unsuccessful

in the attempt to stir up rebellion there, and being fearful of

detection and arrest, escaped out of the country as fugitives from

justice. Nevertheless they accomplished one thing, which was to carry

away with them several young English noblemen, to be educated by the

Jesuits in Flanders, so as to fit them for treason against their own

country--repeating in this the experiment Loyola had made in Germany.

All these movements, although not immediately followed by any direct

consequences, tend to show how ready the Jesuits were to make secret

and incendiary war upon anything or any country upon which the

pontifical curse was resting. And they show, moreover, their subtle

methods of procedure--how they were trained and educated in adroitness

and cunning, the more easily to mislead others; how they raised

hypocrisy and deceit up to the side of virtue; how they endeavored to

attach to falsehood the merit which belongs alone to truth; and how,

in order to be "all things to all men," they were required to be what

they were not, or not to be what they were, in order by deception to

accomplish the subjugation of England to the authority of the pope.

The Jesuits endeavored to become the educators of English youths as

they had those of Germany. They understood, and have not yet forgotten,

the value of this. The pope therefore established an English college

_at Rome_, to educate young Englishmen for the traitorous purpose

of destroying English institutions. Loyola conceived this idea as a

covert and strategic method of uprooting obnoxious Governments, and

the pope accepted it as an effective plan of conspiracy. This college

became a hotbed of treason. The young men were doubtless instructed

that the gates of heaven would be opened to them in no other way, and

that country and patriotism were unmeaning phrases, of no significance

when weighed in the scale against the interests of the papacy and the

Jesuits. None have better understood than they "that he who guides the

youth, directs the destinies of man."

The young Englishmen, educated at this college in Rome to hate their

country and its sovereign, reached the highest round in the ladder

of collegiate culture when they were brought to realize this as the

central feature of religious faith. It takes a peculiar training to

pluck out entirely from the mind all the tender and holy memories of

home and country, of family and friends; and no others in the world

except the Jesuits have ever undertaken it. They boast of this as one

of the prominent principles of their system, and the distinguishing

merit of their society. By means of it they succeeded well at Rome, and

sent back to England a swarm of conspirators, charged with the special

duty of winning a conquest over the Government, plucking Protestantism

up by the roots, and re-establishing the papal scepter, which Henry

VIII, in the pursuit of his illicit amours, had broken.

Elizabeth, as queen, was the great obstacle to papal success. Her

position was a peculiar one. At the beginning of her reign she had been

tolerant towards her Roman Catholic subjects, and they were permitted

to enjoy their religion and mode of worship without interference,

notwithstanding the severities practiced towards the Protestants

during the preceding reign of Mary. All historians agree, and the

Roman Catholic Lingard is candid enough to admit, that she retained

in her royal council eleven of those who had served under Mary, and

appointed only eight of her own selection--an extraordinary instance

of impartiality and conservatism. She preferred the reformed religion,

but "contrived," says Lingard, "_to balance the hopes and fears of the

two parties_,"[77] which she must have done from an honest purpose to

see that justice should be shown to both, and that religious strife

and discord should cease. Her want of success in this most desirable

object can be attributed to no other cause than the machinations of

the Jesuits; for, whatsoever may be thought of the fierce and angry

controversy which followed, the evidence is conclusive that they were

the main reliance of the pope in the subsequent inauguration and

prosecution of civil war in England. If it had not been their special

avocation to enter into plots and conspiracies against all governments

and peoples who rejected the absolute rule of the pope in doctrine

and morals, and if they had not actively engaged in that work during

the reign of Elizabeth, the memory of Mary's bloody and persecuting

reign might, in a large degree, have been blotted out, and this

impartial policy of Elizabeth might have induced the Christians of

different religious faiths to live in peace and mutual toleration, as

they did in Germany before that country was blighted by the curse of

Jesuitism. But taught by the Jesuits not to submit to equality merely,

but to demand absolute and unqualified superiority and dominion by the

entire suppression of Protestantism, the English Roman Catholics were

encouraged to form leagues and combinations and conspiracies against

the queen, Protestantism, and the Government.

Under these circumstances, Elizabeth could not have remained

unresisting if she had desired. To have done so would have been a

treasonable abandonment of the country of which she was the legitimate

sovereign. Not only was she assailed in all her rights as queen, but

the pope, adopting the views and opinions of the Jesuits, impudently

attempted to justify resistance to her authority upon the ground that

she was an illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII by Anne Boleyn, and

therefore had no just right to exact obedience to her authority. He

went further than this, and claimed jurisdiction over her conscience

by commanding her to accept "the communion of the Roman Church,"

which, with queenly dignity, she refused. He required her to send

ambassadors to the Council of Trent, and this she also declined to

do. When she imprisoned Mary Queen of Scots, he usurped jurisdiction

over the case, although Mary was an English subject, and undertook to

procure her release, for the reason only that she preferred Romanism

to Protestantism. He sought the aid of the kings of France and Spain

to make war upon England in the name of religion, to release Mary,

dethrone Elizabeth, and seize upon her crown. Failing in all these

things, and being baffled by Elizabeth, he caused a prosecution to

be instituted at Rome to try "in the papal court" her title to the

crown--a sham and farce as ineffective as it was ridiculous and

discreditable. It is difficult to imagine a more presumptuous and

impotent proceeding; but it is instructive as showing the pretensions

of the popes of that period.

In the papal indictment Elizabeth was accused, among other things,

of rejecting the ancient and supporting the new worship; of having

"received the sacrament after the manner of heretics;" of having

"chosen known heretics for the lords of her council;" and of having

"imposed an oath derogating from the rights of the Holy See." The

queen, of course, did not appear; but, nevertheless, she was held to

be in default, and the trial was conducted in the papal form. Twelve

English Roman Catholics, who are represented as "exiles for their

religion," were examined as witnesses, and, after their evidence was

heard and considered, "the judges pronounced their opinion that she had

incurred the canonical penalties of heresy." The major one of these,

which included all the minors, was the forfeiture of her crown; that

is, her actual dethronement. It is to be supposed that, in the decree

of the Roman Curia, all this was recorded in solemn form. But this

decree, like those of other courts, did not execute itself. Therefore,

the pope provided for its execution by issuing his pontifical bull,

with all necessary gravity and composure, whereby he pronounced

Elizabeth guilty of heresy, deprived of her "pretended" right to the

crown of England, and absolved her subjects from all allegiance to

her.[78]

Notwithstanding the long period intervening between those and the

present times, we are not relieved from the obligation and necessity of

understanding fully upon what pretense of authority Pius V assumed the

prerogative right to pluck from the head of the English queen a crown

placed there with practical, if not absolute, unanimity by the English

people. It is not enough to say that these things occurred in another

age and under circumstances peculiar to that age. This may sufficiently

explain the conduct of individuals, and the character and structure

of governments, all of which have ever been, and will continue to be,

liable to change. But the laws of God, founded in divine wisdom, are

not subject to these changes. The creative power of the Deity alone can

change them. It is the special boast of the papists and the Jesuits

that the system of laws which governs the papacy has the stamp of

Divine approval upon it, and that, therefore, it has always been, and

still remains, the same--"_Semper eadem_," is their motto. Hence it is

important to us to know the nature and extent of the spiritual powers

asserted by Pius V over the English Government and people, in order

to ascertain whether, if a parallel case existed to-day, or may exist

hereafter, the same papal powers may not be again invoked. The question

which most concerns us is not whether they may or may not be asserted,

but whether or no they have been embodied in the Canon law of the Roman

Church, and have been thereby stamped with the character of perpetuity.

No special pleading, however adroit, can make the issue otherwise.

The question tried and decided at Rome by the Papal Curia, in so far as

it involved the right to the English crown, was exclusively political,

and the pope could not rightfully change its character by assuming

that it was brought within his spiritual jurisdiction by virtue of the

universality of his spiritual powers. It was an English and not a Roman

question. By the existing laws of England, Elizabeth was the rightful

and hereditary heir to the throne, and had possession of the crown. It

had been so decided by the Parliament, and ratified by the people with

a unanimity almost unknown in those times. She was queen, not only _de

facto_, but _de jure_. By what mode of reasoning or by what perversion

of language could the pope take to himself jurisdiction over such a

question? England was governed by laws, and whether they appear to us

now to have been right or wrong, they were her own laws, enacted by her

rightful authorities. They were exclusively political laws, provided

for her own Government and people. The pope was the spiritual head of

the Church at Rome, with a recognized jurisdiction over the spiritual

welfare of those who regarded themselves as within that jurisdiction.

By the methods of reasoning then adopted by the English nation, and

now familiar to all intelligent American minds, all who chose to

remain within that spiritual jurisdiction had the perfect right to do

so; all who did not, had an equal right to withdraw from it. Rights

of this character concern individuals, not nations, except as their

populations shall decide, in which case they may submit or not to this

jurisdiction at their pleasure. The English nation, by its domestic

laws, had established a system of government suitable for itself, and

had placed its crown upon Elizabeth's head. To say that the pope had

the divine right, as the spiritual head of the Church at Rome, to set

this National Government aside, and substitute for it another dictated

by himself, and after the papal model, means this, and only this: that

his spiritual power includes political and temporal power over all

nations, to the extent of requiring them to adopt whatsoever form of

religious faith the popes shall prescribe, to the absolute exclusion

of all other forms. And it allows him, moreover, to employ for that

purpose, against every domestic law to the contrary, all the papal

machinery of coercion. The decree pronounced at Rome against Elizabeth

affirms, in effect, that such is the Canon law; that is, the law of the

Church. Have the provisions of that law been authoritatively changed or

abrogated since the time of Pius V and Elizabeth? It may be necessary

to find an answer to this question when we come to see, as we shall,

that, at Jesuit dictation, it has been authoritatively announced that

the time has come, or is rapidly approaching, when the Canon law of the

Roman Church shall be introduced into the United States, to supersede

such of our laws, National and State, as are in conflict with it. For

the present, we must not pass by too rapidly the conflict between

the pope and Elizabeth--to the principles involved in which enough

consideration is not generally given--in order that we may comprehend

fully what it meant, and how, in the end, it turned the nations upon

their progressive courses, and brought them where they now are. In all

history there are few more instructive lessons.

In carrying on the war against Elizabeth, the Jesuits did not forget

the work of educating young Englishmen so as to make them believe that

treason was one of the highest virtues when dictated by what they chose

to consider the interests of religion; that is, of the papacy or of

their society, just as we have seen they did in Germany. Among other

seminaries of learning, they had one at Rheims, in France, established

by the Cardinal of Lorraine, one of the most vindictive persecutors of

the Huguenots. They had another at Douay, also in France. From these,

colonies of Jesuits were sent to England every year, instructed and

trained to subvert the English Government, and particularly to vilify

and calumniate Elizabeth by accusing her of leading a "licentious and

voluptuous private life." It is not easy to understand what force

was intended to be given to this accusation, as an argument against

her right to the crown, in view of the fact that a life tenfold more

licentious and voluptuous than that falsely charged against Elizabeth

did not invalidate the right of Pope Alexander VI to the papal crown

and the headship of the Church at Rome. Nevertheless, the Jesuits

availed themselves of it, without regard either to its truthfulness

or their own consistency. They were educated to this peculiar kind of

work, and it was considered their duty to educate others in the same

way, leaving the consequences to take care of themselves. Hume gives

this account of these Jesuit emissaries to England: "They infused

into all their votaries an extreme hatred against the queen, whom

they treated as a usurper, a schismatic, a heretic, a persecutor of

the orthodox, and one solemnly and publicly anathematized by the holy

father. Sedition, rebellion, sometimes _assassination_, were the

expedients by which they intended to effect their purposes against

her,"[79] pretending to find in the existing state of things in England

justification for all this, even for the assassination of the queen.

Two Jesuit leaders--Campion and Parson--were sent from Rome to give

direction to the movements of the conspirators already there. In order

more effectually to encourage treason and sedition, they "_pretended to

be Protestants_," not being ashamed of this false profession, because

the obligation to practice deception when necessary was instilled

into their minds by Jesuit training, and, on that account, created no

compunctions of conscience. When Parson reached Dover, the better to

practice his disguise, he wore the uniform of an English army officer,

and pretended to be such. In this way he deceived the inspecting

officer, and arranged with him for the safe passage of Campion, whom

he represented as a fellow officer, who would follow in a few days. It

may thus be seen how easy it is to be "all things to all men," when

those who desire to become so have quieted their consciences with the

belief that falsehood and deception may be rightfully employed in

promoting "the greater glory of God." Howsoever incomprehensible may

be the casuistry by which the mind can be brought to this belief, it

is perfectly plain to a Jesuit, and is doubtless explained in their

schools.

It is exceedingly difficult to separate the true from the false in

the history of the times here referred to. The passions of the rival

parties became so intense as seemingly to render agreement between them

impossible, either with regard to facts or conclusions. It may not even

be safe to assume that the truth lies midway between the extremes.

But there is always, in the influences and effects produced by any

given period of time, that which explains the motives and purposes

of the chief actors. By careful investigation of these, we acquire a

knowledge of the philosophy of history. Conducting our investigations

in this spirit, we can not fail to conclude that the interference

with the domestic and internal affairs of England by an alien and

foreign power, was a flagrant act of usurpation, unless the spiritual

authority of the pope gave him rightful jurisdiction over temporal and

political questions in that country. And if he did rightfully possess

this jurisdiction in 1570, when Pius V fulminated his pontifical bull

against Elizabeth, and derived it from the divine law, we, of the

present age, and especially in the United States, can not refrain

from inquiring whether, from the Jesuit standpoint, Leo XIII does

not possess the same jurisdiction derived from the same law? Without

pressing this inquiry here, however, it is deemed more essential to

ascertain still more minutely how far the Jesuits were responsible for

sowing the seeds of discord and civil war in England, when otherwise

Protestants and Roman Catholics might, at the Elizabethan period, have

lived and associated harmoniously together, as they did in Germany

before the Jesuits appeared there. Many intelligent readers of history

fail to give due consideration to the events of this important period.

We have seen--upon the authority of Lingard, a papal historian--that

Elizabeth was, at the beginning of her reign, desirous of holding

an equal balance between the rival bodies of Christians. Her mind

was not fully made up with regard to her own faith, although it is

probable she was inclined to Protestantism. There were reasons for

this, some of which may have been controlling with a masculine mind

like hers. The relations between her father, Henry VIII, and the

papacy must have created impressions not favorable to the pope as

a sharer in her governing power over the English people. And the

reign of her sister Mary must have tended to strengthen, rather than

remove, these impressions. She could not have failed to know that

Mary's marriage to Philip II of Spain had brought with it to England

a series of calamities, the remembrance of which must have made her

not only sorrowful, but indignant. If Mary's natural inclination had

been kindly and her heart benevolent, it must have been apparent to

Elizabeth that these good qualities had been exchanged for others of

the very opposite character, which had incited her to prosecute her

Protestant subjects in the spirit of intense religious bigotry, and as

if God were acceptably served by shedding blood. And when, upon coming

to the throne as the immediate successor of Mary, she found herself

confronted by the terrible condition into which England had been

thrown--with every evil passion aroused, and little ground for hope of

the future--nothing was more natural than the belief that this state of

things had been produced, mainly if not entirely, by the unfortunate

marriage of Mary with Philip II, who possessed such a combination of

bad qualities as left room for scarcely a single good one. Sullen,

morose, and selfish, Philip separated himself from everything in life

calculated to encourage good or benevolent emotions, and gave free

play to that bad ambition which led him to desolate the Netherlands by

cruelties as unparalleled as they were atrocious. He had no affection

for Mary, being incapable of any such emotion. His marriage with her

was a matter of policy alone--one of those political unions which,

in the course of time, have produced evils to all the Governments of

Europe. He had inherited religious fanaticism from his father, Charles

V, but without any of the better qualities of the latter; and gave

such excessive indulgence to his hatred of Protestants that nothing

rejoiced him so much as to know that the dungeons of the Inquisition

were crowded with them, and that none of them escaped the rack,

the thumb-screw, and the flames. The best people in England--Roman

Catholics as well as Protestants--had feared, when this ill-fated

marriage was proposed, that the bloody scenes so often witnessed on

the Continent would be repeated there, and for that reason opposed

it. But State policy prevailed, and the popular will was of no avail.

England, thus united with Spain, became subject to the influence of

Philip, who employed it over Mary, to make her, like himself, the

obedient instrument of papal outrages. English persecution hitherto

had one distinguishing characteristic, in this, that Henry VIII had

visited his vengeance upon both Protestants and Roman Catholics, who

were bound alike to the stake and burned to death because of resistance

to his royal power and assumed right, in imitation of the pope, to

hold the consciences of individuals in subjugation. Elizabeth knew all

this. Her strong and sagacious mind was penetrating enough to foresee

that, unless this disheartening course of events could be in some way

changed, England would remain where Mary had left her--a mere appendage

to the papacy--and thereby reduced to a condition of inferiority among

the nations from which she might never recover.

When Philip proposed to marry Elizabeth--for whom he had no more

affection than he had for her sister--she was brought to realize, if

she had not already done so, that the future destiny of England was

mainly in her hands. From motives of policy she took time to deliberate

before accepting or rejecting this proposition of marriage by Philip.

Whilst holding it under advisement, she suggested that it would violate

the law of the Church, inasmuch as their relationship brought them

within the prohibited degrees. But when Philip proposed that he would

obtain a dispensation from the pope, she saw at once that it was a

well-matured scheme to bring her to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the

pope over English affairs of State, and consequently declined Philip's

proposal. And thus was broken the alliance between the two crowns of

England and Spain, and Elizabeth was left to protect herself against

foreign interference in taking care of the internal affairs of her own

country. The occasion demanded that she should assert herself by taking

the affairs of the nation in her own hands, and the result has long

since proved how well and conspicuously she did so.

Elizabeth was wise. Her bitterest enemies concede this. Whilst she may

have inclined to Protestantism, she had not, at the beginning of her

reign, acquired any positive dislike to the Roman Catholic religion.

On the contrary, the Roman Catholic bishops and lords were disposed

to regard her exhibition of tolerance as indicating that she would,

at least, act with justice and impartiality towards them. Camden, the

historian, says that, during Mary's reign, Elizabeth had intimated to

Cardinal Pole that she had a disposition to prefer Roman Catholicism.

Howsoever this may have been, she not only sometimes attended

confession, but assisted at divine service after the manner of the

Roman Church. Lingard says: "She continued to assist, and occasionally

to communicate, at mass; she buried her sister with all the solemnities

of the Catholic ritual; and she ordered a solemn dirge and a mass of

requiem for the soul of the Emperor Charles V."[80] Influenced by these

considerations, and probably by others of the same character, the House

of Lords--composed entirely of Roman Catholics--declared in her favor,

and the Commons having readily and unanimously approved their decision,

she was proclaimed queen "with the acclamations of the people." Thus

her right to the crown was settled by the highest authority in the

kingdom. There was not a murmur of discontent. Some regretted the death

of Mary, but there was a general desire that the barbarities practiced

during her reign should cease. In that desire Elizabeth manifestly

shared, as is well established by the fact, already stated, that she

retained thirteen of Mary's counselors, and appointed only eight

Protestants. She could have meant nothing else by this than to express

the desire that religious persecution should cease, and that the two

religious parties should in the future live in peace with each other,

and thus enable the country to develop into greatness.

The first attack upon her right to the crown was made by Henry

II of France, and not by her Roman Catholic subjects. Henry was

thoroughly indoctrinated with the persecuting spirit which prevailed

in France among the defenders of the papacy, and was dominated

over by the Guises, one of whom was the Cardinal of Lorraine, and

patron of the Jesuits. His persecution of the Reformers has been

previously mentioned. In assailing the title of Elizabeth, Henry II

had undoubtedly several objects in view, the chief of which were to

humiliate England and probably establish French sovereignty over it,

to continue the policy of Mary in persecuting the Protestants, and to

place the crown of Elizabeth upon the head of Mary Queen of Scots.

Whether one or all these motives influenced him, he solicited the aid

of the pope, and made himself a party to the conspiracy against the

peace of England by endeavoring to obtain a papal decree that Elizabeth

was a bastard, and therefore not lawfully queen. Consequently, when,

after her rejection of Philip's proposal of marriage, she saw the

Roman Catholic powers, with the pope at their head, conspiring against

her, she resolved that her own safety and that of England required

her to dismiss the Roman Catholic members of her council, declare her

purpose to protect and encourage the Reformed religion, and submit the

matter to the people by means of a Parliament to be assembled for that

purpose. This precautionary measure was most commendable, inasmuch as

it proposed to submit to Parliament the question whether or no the two

religions were equally entitled to legal protection. In order that

her purposes might be fully understood, she issued a proclamation

allowing divine service to be performed in the English tongue, and

the Scriptures to be read by the laity--a privilege hitherto denied

them. In order to allay all undue excitement, she expressly prohibited

religious "controversy by preaching," until the meeting of Parliament.

When the new Parliament did assemble, it was addressed in her behalf

by the Keeper of the Great Seal, who announced to the representatives

of the people that the queen had commanded him to exhort them "to take

a mean between the two extremes of superstition and irreligion, which

might _reunite the partisans of both the one and the other religion_ in

the same public worship."[81]

The conciliatory course of Elizabeth, as indicated by her proclamation

and this address to Parliament, exhibited a degree of liberality to

which the English people had been unaccustomed during the reign of

Mary. It is a reasonable supposition that, if her suggestions had been

accepted in the spirit in which they were offered, England would have

bounded forward far more rapidly than she did to the condition she

subsequently reached through severe and protracted trials. The times

were suited to the introduction of compromising measures of peaceful

policy. The people were tired of commotion, persecution, and bloodshed

on account of religious differences, and would readily have acquiesced

in any amicable plan of adjustment. But, unfortunately for England,

and the world as well, neither the interests nor the wishes of the

people were of sufficient avail to bring quiet to the country. The

course of subsequent events may be easily traced. The papal machinery

of Church government had been so constructed at Rome that, in order

to keep the people in subjection, it had deposited unlimited powers

in the hands of the prelates. The Roman Catholic bishops of England,

as well as elsewhere, had been accustomed to rule with a rod of iron,

and the time had not arrived when they could be reconciled to any

diminution of their ecclesiastical authority. They became "alarmed,"

says Lingard, at the position taken by Elizabeth. They undoubtedly

viewed it only in its relation to themselves and the interests of

the Church at Rome--or, rather, of the papacy--without bestowing a

moment's thought upon the general welfare of England. They regarded

conciliation as a form of heresy not to be tolerated. What they desired

was the extirpation of Protestantism and the unity of the Roman Church,

assured by the establishment of its religion to the exclusion of any

dissenting faith. Accordingly, they assembled themselves together to

consult "whether they could in conscience officiate at the coronation"

of a queen who proposed so to adjust religious differences as to put

an end to all interference with the right of individuals to freedom of

conscience. Upon various pretexts they decided not to attend, or to

take part in, the ceremony of coronation. Consequently, the ceremony

was performed with the attendance of only a single bishop, and was made

"to conform to all the rites of the Catholic pontifical." This decision

and conduct of the bishops "created considerable embarrassment," and

might have produced serious consequences but for the withdrawal of this

single bishop from his associates.[82]

The non-attendance of the Roman Catholic bishops upon the coronation

of Elizabeth was a signal for opening the old strife. It was

unquestionably intended upon their part to array their followers in

opposition to the conciliatory measures of the queen; and it did not

take long, in those days, to be so understood upon both sides. The

consequence was that the public excitement was imparted to Parliament,

and led to the repeal of several of the statutes of Mary, and the

substitution for them of others whereby the Reformed religion was

made national, and penalties prescribed for refusing so to recognize

it. This, of course, led to severe measures and to persecution, in

imitation of the example set during the reign of Mary, and produced

the unfortunate condition of affairs with which all readers of English

history are familiar. Upon which side, during the long controversy

that followed, the responsibility rested most heavily, is not easily

decided. Wrongs were undoubtedly inflicted by both sides. But

whatsoever these were, they grew out of the spirit of that age, and

had their origin, as we have seen, in the influences created by the

papacy, aided by Jesuit intrigues. The fact, however, which most nearly

concerns our present inquiries is what has just been stated, that the

first step taken in the direction towards the renewal of religious

agitation was the organized opposition of the bishops to Elizabeth,

formed for the purpose of defeating the measures of pacification she

had proposed to Parliament. It is impossible not to have known that

the defeat of those measures by the combined opposition of the bishops

would lead to a revival of the hatreds which had been encouraged under

Mary, and, therefore, to oppose them was to invite that revival for

which, consequently, these bishops were responsible.

Whether the Protestants would have accepted or rejected the

proposition of Elizabeth can not now be decided with positive

certainty; all the probabilities indicate that they would have

accepted them. One thing, however, is certain, they were rejected

by the Roman Catholics under the lead of their bishops. This, of

course, revived the old animosities, but with increased violence.

Throughout all the departments of society passion became greatly

intensified. Nevertheless, the questions involved were English

questions alone. They were primarily and chiefly political, although

having politico-religious aspects. But they involved only the internal

and domestic condition of England. No alien or foreign power had the

right, by international or other law, or consistently with what is now

universal usage among civilized nations, to interfere with them. But we

have seen that they were interfered with, not only by a direct attempt

to make the policy of the country conform to that dictated by a foreign

power, but in the threatening form of a conspiracy between the king of

France and the pope, to impeach the title of Elizabeth upon the ground

that she was a bastard, to which she could not have submitted without

disgrace. We have also seen how this conspiracy moved stealthily

forward, step by step, until she was tried at Rome by an alien

tribunal, pronounced a usurper by a decree which declared her crown

to have been forfeited and her subjects released from their natural

and lawful allegiance. And in order that her escape from the wrath and

vengeance of the pope should become impossible, swarms of incendiary

Jesuits were turned loose upon the country, to fan the flames of

discord, stir up rebellion and civil war, and carry into execution

the judgment and sentence of the papal court at Rome. If Elizabeth

erred in defending herself and her kingdom against this formidable and

dangerous combination, her error was upon the side of patriotism; and

she is scarcely censurable for it, inasmuch as the life of the nation,

and probably her own life, were the stake for which her enemies were

playing. And whether it be true or not, that the Jesuits attempted

her assassination--as some historians allege--it must be accepted

in her praise that, although a woman, she taught her assailants that

she was "every inch a queen," and that England under her reign became

enabled to convince all these rival powers that she was competent to

conduct her own affairs and take care of herself--facts sufficiently

demonstrated by her advanced position among the modern progressive

nations.

Every American mind should be duly impressed by this portion of

English history, showing, as it does, how fierce and protracted

was the struggle which led, in the end, to popular government, and

the civil and religious freedom which it alone has guaranteed.

Elizabeth was undoubtedly a great queen--great in the qualities of

her intellect, in the steadfastness of her purposes, in that manly

courage which "mounteth with occasion." When she became queen, the

people of England, both Protestants and Roman Catholics, were tired of

religious persecution, and anxious to put an end to it. She favored

and recommended to Parliament measures of pacification, in the spirit

of liberality and toleration. If, obeying the dictates of her own

conscience, she preferred Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, she had

such respect for the conscientious convictions of others as to desire

that all her subjects should be secured in the right to accept either

the one or the other at their own discretion. By the avowal of these

and other kindred purposes, she incurred the opposition of the Roman

Catholic bishops, who, in concert with foreign powers, and backed by

the pope and his Jesuit militia, brought on a civil war which afflicted

England with a long train of evils and calamities. Under the influence

of her liberalism, the bulk of the population became tolerant of each

other, and, by the great unanimity with which they accepted her as

queen, indicated the desire that the protection of the Government

should be given to both forms of worship. And it may be accepted as

a fair inference from what then transpired, that she was defeated in

her plan of conciliation only by the animosities engendered by the

English bishops, the pope, and the Jesuits. Her defeat, however, was

not final; and having survived the machinations of all her enemies,

even the excommunication and anathemas of the pope, together with the

stealthy plottings of the Jesuits, the pages which record the events

of her reign constitute some of the brightest in English history. They

teach a philosophy that will not be forgotten so long as free popular

institutions shall continue to exist.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 75: Nicolini, p. 65. Steinmetz, Vol. I, p. 302.]

[Footnote 76: Nicolini, pp. 151, 152, note.]

[Footnote 77: History of England. By Lingard. Vol. VI, p. 4. See, also,

Hume, Vol. IV, p. 4.]

[Footnote 78: Lingard, Vol. VI, p. 110. Nicolini, p. 153.]

[Footnote 79: History of England. By Hume. Vol. IV, p. 182.]

[Footnote 80: Lingard, Vol. VI, p. 4.]

[Footnote 81: History of England. By Rapin. Vol. VIII, pp. 217 to 232.]

[Footnote 82: Lingard, Vol. VI, p. 5.]

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